justforfun

To add to the anecdotes, I trace my earliest diaper-memory back to when I would have been about 5. I remember standing in the hallway in our old house, and my mother was in the process of pinning a cloth diaper on my (2 year younger) brother. She said, "perhaps you can be a big boy and not need this tonight?" He nodded, and she handed him his regular day time underwear to wear under his pajamas. Then she went and changed the diaper on my four-year-younger brother. The impression I remember clearly, though, was my mother being cold and fast handing me my pajamas to wear, and then warm and affectionate when she was pinning the diaper on my brother. She was fast and dismissive when she handed him the underwear, and then warm and affectionate when changing my littlest brother. I have the distinct (but eminently not provable) belief that it was that perception that instilled the love of diapers in my mind. Diapers = kind, affectionate mom. Underwear/pajamas = cold, detached mom. Hence, diapers=good. Couple that with the points in the original article, which I take to be "[most] everyone likes being treated affectionately, and most people are most affectionate to their kids, in general, so if you treat your spouse like you treat your kids, for most people that will be more affectionate than you treat them today". So, in my twisted mind if I wear diapers, people [mom] will be more affectionate to me. Or something like that. [Note: I'm not actually saying my mom was ever cold and dismissive, or anything like that. She just didn't need to help get me changed since I was just wearing pajamas, and with two younger brothers there were other priorities. To my simple mind, I was being blown off; in real life she was just prioritizing.]

This weekend, my car was broken into while I was out hiking at a state park. They took the only two things in the car... about $10 in change, and my laptop bag. Now, I was very careful to leave nothing of value in the car, because in my mind, the contents of the laptop bag aren't all that valuable, really... it's my diaper bag. It's inconspicuous for me to carry it around, but I hadn't thought about the fact that to someone looking for something to break into, it probably looked valuable. I'm somewhat torn... while on the one hand I would have loved to see the person's face when they opened the bag hoping to see a nice expensive laptop and saw a stack of M2s and M4s instead, on the other hand I'm really pissed that they cost me a $150 window for $10 in change and my diapers. Jerk. I hope it was worth it.

Experience gained from dressing my small daughter... a onsie snapped outside the tights holds both them and the diaper up.

Well, she has mentioned in the past that during the times when my accidents are less frequent that there's no point in 'wasting' expensive disposables at $1-$2 per day; just wear thinner cloth and save money. Perhaps when it's just me causing the extra loads of laundry her thinking will switch, but for now there's not really any 'extra' work. In addition, when I am having accidents, the cloth is actually much more effective at doing what needs to be done. From a purely practical point of view, cloth makes more sense. Perhaps my daughter getting out of diapers would change things. And, frankly, I'm not sure that I really want to stop, deep in my heart. I actually worked quite hard to be where I am! I want to change the situation around the wetting, but I don't think stopping is the right answer. I'm not sure doing it less would help the situation at this point either. To answer Spokane Girl, well, yes she knows, but she's young enough now that it's not something she is aware that is different at this point. I'm quite discreet even around home. Not that I'm really able to hide a thick cloth diaper, but I also don't walk around in just a diaper, ever. We do hope as she gets older that it's something that while she may be aware of it, it's not something that affects her in any way. My problem, in the bedroom, discreetly. And yes, I need to figure out how to resolve what I told my wife. It's been bugging me since I got married in 2006. That's not an easy one, obviously.

The whole bedwetting-desires thing has come up in a few threads. Rather than posting my thoughts in a few separate threads I decided to take my ball and go create my own thread. I’ve been a DL for a long time, and I posted a few years ago the story of when I went almost 24/7 for almost two years. I think I pulled the story, though, because it contained a few too many details in this era of internet lack-of-privacy. The punch line of the story, though, was that I came out of it as an occasional bedwetter, for real. I didn’t mind at the time, and for a year or three (early 2000’s) I sort of encouraged myself, lacking any real relationships or reason not to. My (now) wife and I had been friends for a long time, and when we started seriously dating ~2005, it was relatively easy for me to break the news to her that I had occasional problems. I bent the truth a little; I told her that problems I had had during childhood had re-started due to work stress, etc., and that doctors had not provided any real solutions. Drugs messed me up, alarms just kept me from sleeping, etc. Even after we were married in 2006 I have not corrected this lie. The bedwetting was real, the reason was not. Issues with wetting came and went for me... for a month or three I’d be dry, and then I’d start having accidents for a random period of time, then they would become more and more infrequent, etc. During the times when I was wetting frequently I would wear a diaper, and while she wasn’t fond of the idea she preferred it to waking up in a wet bed. During times when I was “dry

Sorry about the long delay in answering. The realities of a new member of the household don't provide for much down time... In any case, I did end up calling the service, and yes it was TideeDidee in Sacramento. The do carry adult products (large flat pre-folds), and agreed to do a two week trial along with our infant diaper service. But then... my wife talked more to friends and neighbors, read Yelp, etc., and decided that their reputation was horrible, and cancelled our service before we even started. So I have no idea what they would actually have provided. She's looking around for other options, but they seem extremely limited. Like non-existent. We're doing a mix of cloth and disposables for kiddo, so I've been using a few cloth diapers bought off amazon occasionally since the laundry is happening on a mostly-regular basis. The constant parade of relatives helping out (none of whom are aware of my problem) mean that I'm still mostly using disposables anyway. Not that I'm parading around the house, just don't want someone helping to fold the laundry to get a 'big' surprise. In any case, the cloth seems hotter to me to wear during the summer, so we might try this again in the fall when it's a little cooler, the guests have stopped, and life is a little less crazy. The environment (and $$$) is important and all, but when I'm getting a few hours of sleep scattered in blocks around the clock, it's a lot easier to tape on a disposable and then throw it away than to deal with the cloth.

Does anyone use a diaper service for cloth diapers? Specifically, for bed wetting? My bed wetting problems have continued, probably exacerbated by the stress of a very happy event in my life very recently, the birth of our first child. (Yay!) The lack of sleep, stress, and general exhaustion have not helped with "my little problem", though, and now it's a pretty much every night thing. My wife has decided that the little kiddo is going to use cloth diapers from a service, and she's suggested that we should have them deliver some for me as well. I know that they do carry adult sizes, but she wants me to call and get more details and figure out if they'll work for me. I'm having a hard time getting over the embarrassment factor. I'd like to hear if others have gone this route, and what they think. I'm not sure I like the idea of wearing diapers others have used even though I know they're well cleaned, sterilized, etc. Does anyone else have an ick feeling? Do the adult products work them same as the infant products as far as just using a cover, or do they use the normal pins plus plastic pants? If we're getting a delivery of infant diapers anyway, I'm less worried about having a diaper service truck in front of my house, but I still worry that somehow it will be obvious that there's a delivery for me as well. I'd really prefer the neighbors didn't know. So, anyone been here before? Positive or negative experiences? (Disclaimer since I'm posting this on the medical board: Yes, I have a DL streak. Yes, that part of me is liking this idea. Great fantasy and all. But, the part of me that lives in the real world living with the real problem is not so amused.)

Well, I'm now in Paris. To answer some of the questions I asked... I ended up leaving a note for housekeeping (in French, or course!) asking for them to protect the bed; they added a very thin sheet that feels like the outer part of a "cloth-like" disposable. So that's good. They also left an extra supply of plastic bags for disposal. Pharmacies are not open on Sundays, but local supermarkets ("Carrefour") carry Tenas; I was able to find some Plus, which aren't great but seem to work OK. Interesting side note... I did learn something... while "Couche" translates directly as "diaper", the term "Changes Completes" translates (according to Google) as "Nappy", and seems to imply a disposable brief as opposed to a reusable cloth type diaper. Asking for "couches pour adultes pour nuit" will get one pointed towards the (minimal selection of) plastic pants, while "changes completes pour adultes pour nuit" will get one pointed to the Tenas. Maybe a French speaker can correct my interpretation! And now you know! (ding.)

After a several year break, my bedwetting returned last year. Not a big deal, after visiting a doctor to make sure it was not a symptom of something more serious. Hey, I like wearing diapers anyway, my wife is understanding, . I have an upcoming week-long work trip to Paris, though, and I've never had to deal with bedwetting while traveling before. What do people do? Call/email the hotel in advance to make sure the mattress is protected? Ignore it and hope the diaper leaks aren't noticed? I'm used to using cloth at home, but I intend to bring a few disposables, and buy additional diapers when I arrive. Where can I expect to find good diapers, hopefully good night diapers that will leak minimally? Are stores open on Sunday? What brands should I be looking for? Thanks for all your help...

So, that's the real part. I'm working on a few fictional extrapolations to this, but I'll post them separately. Hope you liked it.

Laura and I stayed close for the next few months, and I continued to wear diapers every night with her, and usually wore them when we would go to movies, or on long rides, or anyplace where bathrooms wouldn't be convenient. Occasionally, she would change me, but it was rare, and I never asked her. Typically, it was after a romantic night out when we were both feeling close. It was a very good few months. I was traveling on the morning of September 11, 2001. I was just getting out of the shower to prepare for a customer meeting that morning, when I saw the second plane hit the World Trade Center. In particular for me, it meant that my company cut back travel very significantly. Rather than being in Seattle every week, my time was gradually cut back to a trip a month, and that was usually not an overnight trip. Laura and I tried to keep in touch, but long distance relationships are difficult. In December, she got her degree, and moved away from Seattle. It was difficult for me, because I was depressed that although I had finally found someone who could accept me for who I was, I was still left with no one. Even though I was never completely honest with her about my fetish, I think she had figured it out, and was willing to play along with my own delusion. A few years later I was married to a wonderful woman who had been a friend for a long time. While I had trained myself back to being a bed wetter by then, I was less open about why I was wearing diapers, for better or worse, and my wife isn't really involved, by her choice.

The beginning of July brought Fourth of July holiday, and plans for another long weekend spent at Laura's place. For the last two or three weeks I had been in an anti-diaper mood, perhaps brought on by Laura pushing me to wear the cloth diapers whenever we were home, rather than the disposables I preferred. Nighttime wearing continued, but daytime wearing had been cut way back as my control miraculously "returned". On the Fourth, Laura and I took a trip for a day hike up to Deception Pass, a beautiful area about three hours North. Our first stop was for breakfast, and I made my first mistake, which was to have a large coffee. The second mistake was not to use the bathroom just before we left. As we headed up I5, I felt the need to pee growing, and asked Laura (who was driving) to find a place to stop. She pulled off, and I used the restroom at a service station at the exit. I also made the third mistake, which was to buy a few bottles of water for the hike. Feeling thirsty, and obviously not thinking, I had about half of one of the bottle. 20 minutes later, I needed to go again, and again Laura found a place to stop. The third time, she was annoyed. "Look, I know your control is getting better, and I should be encouraging you to use the toilet, but damn, you have a small bladder. This is ridiculous!!" She pulled over to the side of the road, and I ran off into the woods to relieve myself. As I came back up to the car, I saw Laura digging though my luggage. "Whatcha looking for? I asked. "Where are your diapers?" "In the back, next to the cooler." The gray duffel bag of 'emergency supplies' always stayed in the car. "Why?" It was something of a rhetorical question. "We've stopped three times in the last 45 minutes. We're never going to make it. Wear a damn diaper and be we might actually get there! Otherwise we're going to turn around and head home." She pulled out one of the thick Molicares I used at night and handed it to me. "That won't fit under my clothes! At least give me one of the Attends." "You're wearing loose shorts. It will fit fine. We have another two hour drive, and I don't want to stop again." "Where am I supposed to change?" "Use the back of the car. No one will see." Right. No one except everyone on the road going by. I ended up putting the diaper on, huddling in the back seat under a blanket she had brought along for the picnic. This was far, far more humiliating than anything I had done before, as I at least felt I had the CHOICE about what to do, and when. My diaper looked to me to be a huge balloon under my shorts. Laura just smiled. When we got to the park, she simply reached down and felt my diaper to see if it was dry. It wasn't. She handed me another of my diapers. "I don't need a diaper now!!" I complained. She shrugged. ""You sound like a two year old, you know. Arguing about whether or not you have to wear a diaper. If you acted maturely enough to just wear them when you need to, I wouldn't need to tell you."" She shrugged again. ""Do what you think is best. If you don't think you need one, don't wear one."" I proceeded to take a pair of my underwear, and went into the bathroom at the trail head to clean up and change. I was kind of shaken up; this was the most direct she had ever been about my diaper wearing making me childish, but what messed me up was that she had actually said that _not_ wearing a diaper was childish. I didn't know quite how to deal with that. We ended up having a great hike. The bridge and beaches in the area are really something, and make a great hike and a great place to picnic. As it got later, we decided to head back to Seattle for the fireworks. It was about five now so we thought we'd get there right about on time. As we neared the car, Laura looked at me. I realized she was waiting to see if I was going to put a diaper on. I paused. This struck me as another key moment, as I felt control over the time and place of my diaper wearing drained from me to her. Except for the first few days, months ago, I had been confident that I could wear, or not wear, a diaper without a comment or second guess from her. She might make a comment about the need to change, or about putting on a night diaper, but in the end if I didn't wear any diaper at all she had never commented. Now, her words and demeanor took control of the situation, and I didn't think the decision was really mine any more. I could ask for a diaper now which would mean yielding, at least in my mind, to her expectations and control, or I could say that I didn't want to wear one. The biggest mind-fuck was being accused of being childish and irresponsible for _not_ making the mature choice of wearing a diaper. All those days and months of wearing a diaper of my own accord seemed to not prepare me in the least for being told by another to put a diaper on because I needed it. I doubt that she felt any deep meaning like that, and took my pause as taking too long to make what should be a simple decision. "I don't think you'll be able to make it all the way back to Seattle, and we don't have time to stop if we want to get there for the fireworks." She unlocked the car, reached into my bag, and pulled a bright white Attends out and handed it to me. In the parking lot. With people around. "Go into the bathroom and change." I was motionless for a second, then quickly tucked the diaper under the shirt I was wearing. Several people definitely were looking in my direction now, and I quickly shuffled off to the bathroom under the stares of more than a few curious people. I taped the diaper on, pulled my shorts back up, and went back to the car, thankful we were miles from anyone who knew me. When I was safely back in the car, I had to ask. "Why did you do that?" "Do what?" "Whaddya mean, do what? You pulled the diaper out in public!" She gave me a "get over it" look. "What's the big deal. You wear diapers. No one cares. You have a way of dealing with your problem. Accept it, deal with it, and just let things be. Do what you need to do, and don't worry about what others think, especially when you don't know them!" This was not how I was comfortable with things playing out. I didn't like this. "I don't want this to be public. This is a personal problem of mine, and how I deal with it is no one else's business. Please, do not expose me in public like that again." She said nothing for a while, then spoke as we turned back onto I5 to Seattle. "OK. I still think that others shouldn't care what you do. In my nurse training, and especially in the months I spent as an intern at the hospital, I got the job of changing many diapers on people. In the hospital, it was accepted as a just a fact of life for many. I can understand that you wish to keep things private, though. I won't do that again." I was relieved. During her silence, I had begun to think that this was the end of our relationship. It certainly wouldn't be the first relationship of mine that had ended because of diapers. I knew I was way over thinking things, but the emotional impact being handed a diaper in the parking lot in front of people and being told to go put it on was still affecting me. When we got to Seattle, it was just nearing dark. We found a parking spot near the park, and grabbed the picnic blanket to sit on. She asked if my diaper was wet, which it was. She gave me a funny look. "Don't you want to change, then?" She reminded me that it would be an hour or two of being in crowds, and the porta-potties were few and far between, and crowded. I sheepishly looked at her... "Yeah, that's probably a good idea." She smiled, and handed me another diaper. "Looks like there are only two more after that... we'll have to pick some more up tomorrow morning." She closed the car door, and I again used the blanket to hide my activities. We found a good spot to sit on the open grass, and watched the fireflies while we waited for the main event. The fireworks were a blast, and over before I knew it. As we were walking back to he car, Laura whispered in my ear, "Are you wet?" I smiled. "No." In her usual bubble manner, she said, "Good! Lets go out!" "Now?" "Sure... just for a quick drink or two... well, I'm driving, so you finally get to have several!" It was true... since I usually drove, I was limited to zero or one drinks, while she always imbibed. We were just walking past a good Irish bar so we stepped inside, and I had a large beer, while she had a water. And I had another beer. And a third. And a fourth. After the second and third beers, I had used the bathroom, undoing the tapes on the diaper to use the toilet. After the third, I was quite drunk, and Laura helped me stumble down the street, and poured me into the car. I wet my diaper on the way home without even thinking about it. Laura must have heard the hiss, as she laughed, "Good thing you're protected!" she joked. I laughed. "Yup. Useful things, eh?" When we arrived at her apartment, she helped me up the stairs, and I pretty much collapsed face first onto her couch. "Looks like you need some help there, huh?" "Yup" was about all I could manage. She helped me stumble, crawl, and roll down the hall to her bedroom, and helped me climb onto her bed. My diaper was soaked by now, and dark patches were starting to show on my pants. "It's definitely time to get you changed." That sort of woke my up a little. While she had "helped" a little during some of my changes, I had never actually been changed by anyone else before and the idea made me nervous... there was something about that act that meant giving up more even more than I felt I had given up earlier in the day. I tried to sit up in an effort to take care of myself, but the alcohol was stronger than I was, and Laura gently pushed me down on her bed. She kissed me gently, and said, "Let me take care of it." She went into the bathroom, and came back with some towels and wet washcloths. She laid one towel on the bed, and helped me move over onto it. She took of my shoes and socks, and unbuttoned my pants. As she slid the pants down my legs, my erection made an obvious tent in the soaked disposable. "You like this, huh?" she said, and kneaded the front of my diaper a little. I was in heaven... very confused and relaxed because of the alcohol, and having someone undress me in such a tender and caring manner exited me greatly. She helped me sit up a little, and slid off my shirt. Now I was laying on her bed naked, except for the diaper. She reached down, and undid each of the tapes. Pulling my knees apart slightly, she lifted the front of the diaper off. I tried to help, but she again gently pushed my hands back to the bend, and kissed me again, saying "Relax. Let me handle it." She gently rolled me toward her on the bed, so I was on my side. She pulled the wet diaper out from underneath me, wrapped it up, and tossed in a wastebasket by her her bed. Using a washcloth, she gently wiped the exposed skin. She took two of the thick cloth night diapers, folded one inside the other, and spread it out behind me. She used some powder on the diaper, and rolled me back onto the diaper. She again used the washcloth to clean the front of my diaper area. The attention, of course, only served to make me even more excited. She ignored it, though. When she was done washing, she used more powder, gently massaging it into my front. She dusted off her hands, and pulled the front of the diaper up between my legs. Reaching under me to get the back, she pulled the diaper together and pinned it tightly. I was in absolute heaven. She pulled up a pair of plastic pants, and carefully tucked everything in. The bed sheets were pulled over me, she gave me one last kiss, and left the room. She went into the bathroom, and the last thing I heard that night was her starting the shower. The next morning, I work with a raging headache and a very thick, very wet diaper. Laura was next to me, still asleep. As soon as I moved, though, her eyes opened, and she smiled a "Good Morning, Sweetie." She reached over between my legs to feel the diaper, and smiled. "I figured you'd be really wet this morning." I felt embarrassed. She gave me a funny look. "Do you remember me changing your diaper last night?" I turned to her, even more embarrassed. "Yes." "Did you like it?" I didn't know what to say, but I'd have to say my erection last night had given it away, and so lying now would be pretty obvious. "Yes.... it felt very... nice to be cared for like that." Her glowing smile came back. "I thought so. It was pretty obvious." I had to smile again with her, and we pulled each other into a loving embrace. My plastic pants crinkled softly as her hand clasped by rear. "I'll join you in the shower." With that invitation, I was up and getting the water running in a heartbeat. === "Bad day at work?" "Yeah." I had spent the day fighting a particularly hard to find bug that a customer had reported, and a day in the lab and on the phone had left me exhausted. "Need a change?" "Yeah." She took my hand and brought me to the bedroom. I was more accustomed now to having her change me, and pull down my pants and lay down on the bed pad. She grabbed a day weight diaper from the stack and laid on the bed. I relaxed as she pinned it on me and pulled the blue baby print pants up my legs. Last was the new onesie which she slipped over my head and snapped up between my crotch. I pulled up the offered pair of shorts, and walked with Laura back to the kitchen to have dinner with her and Karen. === (...Continued...)

"Now that you're staying over at my place more, you could, you know, use cloth diapers. It would be better for the environment." It was early June and we were at the local park, swinging on the swings. It was fairly late in the evening, but Seattle's Northern location means it's still light out, even though pretty much everyone else had left to go put the kids to bed. A few teenagers continued to kick a ball around at the other end of a large field, but other than that we had the place to ourselves. Laura had been on a green kick recently, having attended a lecture at school during her summer classes about the impact of humans on the planet. She had taken the message to heart, trying to be a better person to the Earth. Now my diapers had caught her eye. "You know how many diapers end up in landfills? Billions! I had always thought that, you know, it was parents who made that choice, but I guess there are some people who actually get to choose what kind of diapers they get to wear." She looked at me in a not-a-all-subtle sort of way. "Have you thought about using cloth diapers? I mean, I can understand why you'd use them when you were staying at the hotel, but I have a washing machine and dryer. You could use that." This was a new twist. I liked wearing the disposables, but I wasn't so sure about the cloth diapers. It just didn't tickle the same nerve, so to speak. But, I was staying at her apartment several nights a week, with the hotel being a backup when she had a big test, or her roommate had someone over, or just to keep up appearances of not "moving in". "I guess I could try them. I've never worn a cloth diaper. Well, not that I remember. I think that they'll be hot and bulky and uncomfortable, and probably really obvious to other people." "You don't have to wear them all the time. Maybe just to bed. Or around the house. It will help to cut down on the disposables you use. And as far as being obvious, you already look like a toddler now with the top of your diaper hanging out in the breeze above your pants!" I was lucky that there was no one around, as each swing caused my shirt to billow out, exposing the white plastic waistband that extended over my belt. Well, I guess that point concluded the discussion on that, and we moved on to discussing other things. Later that evening, we browsed the web, together, looking at the cloth diapers options. I carefully guided the search to sites that are legitimate medical sites, as opposed to some of the more ABDL sites that often come up when one searches for such items. There were some conversations that I really didn't want to have to have. After a little while, we had chosen a variety of diapers a few suppliers in a few sizes and weights, to figure out what would work. I added a few pairs of plastic pants that would be large enough to fit over the increased bulk, and we grabbed a onesie to help hold everything together. It was a pretty surreal moment, sitting there in a thick Molicare under my pajamas, picking out cloth diapers for myself, with my girlfriend helping, and being told to make sure that I got the heavy-weight version so that I wouldn't leak. The packages started coming a few days later. We put everything though the wash, and that evening I found myself on the bed, on my back, laying on one of the white rectangles with some pins nearby. Laura was there. "Do you want help?" The look on her face told me that she wanted me to answer that I did. I had never had someone else help me with diapers, though, and it felt weird to accept. The fantasy of it had sounded good, but the reality of it, when presented, wasn't the same. "I... think I can handle it. Thanks." I pulled the thick Extra Heavy-Weight Angel Fluff diaper between my legs after giving myself a little powder. It actually felt pretty good, and was definitely a LOT thicker than any disposable I had ever worn. "The website says you should use two pins on each side..." "I know, we read it together... I remember..." I grabbed the first pin and did one side, then then other. Two more pins down low provided the suggested "seal" around my thighs. The top came up to my belly button. Laura brought over one of the new pairs of plastic pants. "At least let me help with this part." She held the pants open as I stuck my feet through, and then pulled them up my legs. I finished by pulling the pants up over the thick diaper, and tucked it in. "Wow, that is pretty thick. I bet it will work really well at night!" I tried to put my knees together, feeling the many layers of flannel between my legs pressing them apart. "Stand up, and let's see if you can even put on pants." I did, and I couldn't. It was just too thick. Even the pajama bottoms I normally wore ballooned out comically. An attempt to walk led to a stifled laugh by Laura. "You waddle. I'm sorry, but that's pretty funny." I did have to admit that my profile in the mirror was decidedly pear-shaped, and rather amusing. "Here, try this." She handed me the onesie, or "Concealer" as Angle Fluff calls them. I slipped it on, and before I had a chance to her hand was between my legs, pulling the back flap forward and snapping the snaps between my legs. I could feel the garment lift the diaper, kind of cozying it up into my crotch. It really didn't feel that bad. The next morning I had to deal with my first wet cloth diaper. I had wet in my sleep while on my side, so one side of the diaper was soaked, and the other side dry. The bed was completely dry. It smelled much more like stale urine than a disposable in the morning, and was definitely not as pleasant to deal with. It also felt colder, clammier, and just more "wet" than the disposables. "It's really loose on you." The diaper felt like it was going to fall off. "I think that we need to try to get it a little tighter when you put it on." "Yeah, I'll have to work on the pinning." After a quick shower, I put on an Attends and headed to work. The diaper went into the waiting pail; we hoped that we could wait a day or two so that we didn't cause a lot more wash. I returned that evening for dinner. "Are you wet now? Do you need a change?" I had indeed wet a little on the drive over to her apartment. "Yes, I'll be right back." She followed my into the bedroom, and watched as I grabbed for another disposable. "Why don't you try another cloth diaper. We're not going out tonight." "They're too bulky!" "Well, you got some of the lighter ones as well, why don't you try one of those?" It wasn't a bad idea. "OK." I grabbed one of the thinner ones and went over to the bed, getting things as tight as I could as I pinned it together. The day diaper was definitely much more manageable for walking around in than the night diaper was, and actually fit under my loose shorts. The onesie again helped hold everything up. An hour later the problem with the cloth diapers became more obvious. I was standing in the bathroom, clothes half off, as Laura knocked, asking what was up. "Umm... I needed to pee, but I couldn't get everything unsnapped and unpinned in time to make it to the toilet." "Why didn't you just use the diaper?" I felt a little angry, and more than a little humiliated standing there in a partially on, but very wet, diaper. My voice rose. "It was already wet, and I'm TRYING to not leak all over everything! Besides, I don't want to get used to always using the diaper! They I'll never get control back." I was really upset enough that I didn't really need to play it up at all. I had waited too long, and I really hadn't been able to hold what had been a very full bladder long enough to get everything off. It was a real accident, and I was shaken up. Her eyes softened. "I'm so sorry." She came over to me. "It's not a big deal, and it's done." Her soft voice helped me to calm down a little, and I replaced the pin I was holding in my hand to hold things together. I pulled the plastic pants into place, let her guide me by the hand to the bedroom with the back of the onesie unbuttoned behind me like a tail. She grabbed another cloth diaper from the closet. She grabbed for the blue baby print plastic pants that were on top of the pile, but in what I assume was deference to my fragile state grabbed a plain white pant instead. As she came back, she looked around. "What's the easiest way of doing this?" I was confused. "Doing what?" "Changing you. I don't want to get the bed all wet." I stood up, pulled the wet plastic pants off, and unpinned the wet diaper. She frowned at the drops of wetness that fell from the saturated diaper onto the floor as I tossed it into the pail, but didn't say anything. After wiping myself with a wet washcloth, I took the supplies in her hand from her and laid them out on the bed. I proceeded to pin the diaper, and wouldn't let her help me pull the plastic pants up. I did NOT want her helping me, that was just too much to deal with. To her credit, she let me handle it without a word. When I was done, and had a pair of sweatpants pulled over the dry diaper, I had calmed down. "Sorry about that. I was a little upset." "I know, I know, it's OK. I know this is tough." She sat down beside me on the bed. "But look, I love you, and I want to help you. You don't have to deal with this by yourself. And I don't really want pee spots," she gestured at the drying spots over by the pail, "all over the place. That's gross." I wasn't sure where she was going with this. "I'll get you a bed pad; we use them at the hospital. You can use it as a changing pad on the bed so you don't have to stand up when you change, and you don't get the bed wet. But it would be a lot easier if you let me help you, you know." "It's just that I really don't want to be treated like a baby, and having someone else change me seems to cross that line. I'm sorry, I'll be more careful about moving the pail close, and not dripping. And the pad sounds like a good idea." She paused for a second, considering her words. "If it's too hard to take the diaper off to use the toilet, don't worry about it. Just... use it as if you were going to use the toilet. I think there's less chance of a mess that way." "But then I'll have to change more often." "Well, it's not like you've been doing too well at making it recently anyway, so just use a night diaper instead, or two day diapers together, and then you won't need to change as often and you won't need to worry about getting undressed in a hurry. As beaten down as I was, I didn't feel like arguing with her logic. "OK, let's go watch the rest of CSI." === ""Oooh, I have got to get to a bathroom!"" Traffic across the 520 bridge was stalled. Laura was desperate, with her legs crossed. ""Want a diaper?"" She grimaced. ""It's almost tempting. You're wet?"" To be honest, the Attends I was wearing was indeed wet. I reached behind the seat to pull one out of my backpack. She looked over at me. ""No, I'm not going to wear a damn diaper. I'll be fine. Look, traffic is moving up ahead."" === "I'm headed out shopping. Anything you need?" "Well... I'm almost out of diapers. I don't suppose you could pick up a bag while you're out?" She looked at me funny. ""If I sent you out to buy tampons, what would you say?"" ""..."" ""I though so. Go get your own diapers."" === (...continued...)

=== We were at Daniel's, a high end steak place in Bellevue, celebrating something or other. I wet very wet, and needed to pee more. I whispered over to Laura in a low voice. ""I need to go change. I'm close to leaking."" She had stuffed a few diapers in the large bag she carried as her purse, since the backpack that I normally carried my supplies in didn't fit in with the high-end surroundings. ""How are you going to get it to the bathroom? Do you want to take my bag?"" I paused. That would look funny, but it might work. Then I had another idea. "Pass me one under the table." She reached into her bag, and discreetly passed it to me under the cover of the table cloth. I rolled the Attends into a tube, and then wrapped one of the green cloth napkins on the table around it. I pulled it out from under the table to look at it. Good enough. I carried the funny green burrito to the restrooms, and changed there. === Late April was the first time that I stayed with Laura at her apartment, rather than at the hotel. We had decided to spend the weekend together, and rather than make my company foot the bill for the hotel I'd spend the nights at her place. On Friday morning I checked out of the hotel, and that evening we met at the rental car place, so I could drop off the the rental car I wouldn't need for a few days. I got my return receipt and hopped in the car with Laura. As she was leaving the rental car lot, Laura hesitated. "I have to tell you something." "What?" ""Well... just so you know, Karen knows about your diapers. I told her about them a long time ago."" This was not really a surprise; they were good friends, and I'm sure they talked about more than just the diapers I wore. "That's OK. It's not a big deal. It's probably better that she found out that way then to be shocked by it..." "That's what I thought." She looked relieved that I wasn't upset. When we arrived at her house, Karen was cooking dinner. We had talked on the phone, but I had never met her. She was a small, thin blond with a slightly ditsy disposition. Like Laura, she was a psych major. "Come on in! Dinner's ready. I hope you like spaghetti with meat sauce!" She tried to hide the glance at my crotch, but it was a little too obvious that she wanted to know if I was diapered, which I was. She quickly turned back to the stove, ladling the sauce onto a waiting plate of pasta. Laura pulled a bottle of red table wine out of the pantry, pulled the cork, and poured three glasses. I was starving, and we quickly sat down and began eating and drinking. We talked about where I worked, what my job was, and what they were studying. As we finished the last of the first bottle of wine and started the second, I got up to get seconds on the spaghetti. Karen looked at my shirt and laughed. ""You got a bit on your shirt, there... we should get you a bib!"" She suddenly realized what she said, and froze. Her face was turning red. "Not because you wear dia..." She froze again, her face now the color of the tomato sauce. "I'm sorry, I guess the wine was stronger than I thought. I didn't mean to say that." She buried her face in her hands to hide her embarrassment. Laura glanced my way nervously, not sure how I was going to handle it. I had pretty much been expecting some comment at some point, and I think she was way more embarrassed and upset than I was. I laughed it off. "That's OK, don't worry about it. Laura told me that you know, so don't worry. I know you weren't making fun of me or anything." Karen and Laura both looked relieved. The second bottle of wine helped dispel the remaining tension in the room, and I answered Karen's questions openly, or at least open in terms of the fiction that I had created about why I wore them. Karen wanted to see the diapers, and I pulled one out of my bag. She tuned it over in her hands, and opened it up. "Wow, these look just like giant baby diapers!" Another glass of wine later I found myself standing in front of Karen with my pants down while she stared in what might have been awe at the white plastic diaper on me. "Is it... comfortable?" she asked. Even after a bottle of wine there was no WAY I was going to be completely honest here, and disclose the fact that to me they felt soft, comfortable, and wonderful. "They're OK. They get hot, sticky, and itchy when they're wet." "You mean you WET them?" Karen asked. I looked down. The wetness indicator clearly indicated that I had not bothered to make it to the bathroom that evening, but I guess that not everyone would immediately recognize that. Especially after a lot of wine. Laura looked at her, waiting for Karen to snap out her "blond moment". "Yeah... that's urm... kind of what they're for, right?" Laura answered for me. "What happens when you need to be changed? Do you change them yourself?" I explained that yes, I was perfectly capable of changing myself, and it was not much more difficult than putting on underwear. At that point, I decided that that was far enough down that road. I changed the subject to what the plans were for this evening, and we decided that given our inebriated state the best move was to crack a third bottle of wine and head to the living room for a movie. As we were about to sit on the couch, Laura looked at me. "You're pretty wet there, I think... perhaps you should change?" I actually was pretty wet, and the alcohol was not helping with my control. I turned and started heading to the bedroom. "You should probably just put on a night diaper now, in case you fall asleep." As I responded, "But it's only nine o'clock! I don't need a night diaper yet!", I realized just how childish it sounded. I tried to regain some face. "Yeah, I guess it's probably a good idea. I'll be right back." The thick Molicare gave my shorts a very obvious bulge, but, well, it's not like I had anything to hide here any more. The top of the white plastic pants stuck well above the top of the shorts, covered poorly by the t-shirt I was wearing. It amused me greatly that the whole evening Karen couldn't stop looking at my crotch, and it amused me even more that I think Laura was annoyed by Karen's stares. When we went to sleep just after midnight, I got the last small surprise of the evening. When I sat on the bed it had an obvious crinkle. "I can't afford to have this mattress ruined, and you still leak sometimes. So, I put a plastic mattress protector on. Are you wet? Did you change?" I was still dry, and replied that I had used the bathroom. We turned out the light, and fell asleep. === I was in her bedroom, finishing up some work on the laptop. I heard Laura and Karen talking in the dining room in hushed tones, but not hushed enough given the small apartment. "How can I bring a guy home when he's here? What's a guy going to think when he comes in the door and there's another guy standing there in a diaper?" "Oh, relax, when was the last time you brought a guy home, anyway?" "Well,... true,... but, what if I want to?" "OK, tell you what. If you tell me in advance, we'll stay in the hotel. Then there's no problem at all. If you don't know until late, then just call me and we'll make sure everything is hidden. OK?" "OK, but it just better not start smelling like diapers here." === (...continued...)

(...continued...) Of course, the binge/purge cycle is a cycle, and my desire came back. The first week of March, I was again wearing diapers at night at the hotel, and a new package of Attends was sitting by my bed. I no longer cared about what housekeeping thought. One night that week, Laura was very drunk, and was in no condition to drive home. She asked if she could crash in my hotel room. I thought about the diapers. Well, here goes nothing... I explained to her that I occasionally wet the bed at night, and wore diapers to help control it. "I know. Everyone here knows. It's not a big deal." She giggled a drunken giggle. ""Housekeeping started talking about them a long time ago. We hear some good storeis from the girls."" She laughed, then thought for a second. "But why do you wear them during the day, too?" She looked at my crotch. "Are you wearing one now?" I was shocked for a second. I saw the choice before me, and, like a deer in the headlights, I froze. "Yes, I know. Don't worry about it. I still like you. Why do you wear them, though?" My answer defined my life for the next year. I told a story about how I had been in a mountain biking accident last summer. I had been descending a steep hill, and my front wheel caught a rock and just stopped. My body continued forward, and the twisting handlebars caught me right in the lower stomach, right on the bladder. The impact caused a bunch of internal damage, including tearing some tissues. The attachment of the urethra to the bladder was damaged, as were the nerves to the bladder. I suggested that I was very lucky it was not a few inches higher or lower, as if could have been my heart, or the family jewels! As a "result" of that story, I had leakage problems that came and went, and I had minimal awareness of when bladder was full. Doctors thought that they could repair the damage, but things needed to heal and stabilize first, and they hoped the nerves would grow back and re-develop on their own. It might be a year before they were willing to re-asses the damage and repair it. So, I wore "protection". The problems waxed and waned, and sometimes I felt confident during the day to go without as long as I was careful to keep my bladder empty. This week had been pretty good, so I didn't have one on. At night I still had problems because I would not wake up, and so I always wore one to bed. She seemed to accept this pretty well. The fact that she was very inebriated kept her focus more on staying upright than thinking too deeply about what I was saying. When we made it back to the room, hanging on my arm, she saw the bag, and laughed. "I can't believe that you have to wear these!" she said as she picked one up and fell sideways onto the bed. At that point, she passed out. I carefully got her shoes off, and rolled her, still dressed, under the bed covers. I took the extra sheets, and made a place for myself to sleep over in the chair in the room. I though briefly about whether or not to wear a diaper, and quickly decided that, given my story, I had no choice. I grabbed one, went to the bathroom and put it on, and collapsed on the chair. The next morning, Laura was definitely not doing well. She needed to get up early so that she could get home to get the stuff she needed for school, take a shower, and get to her early class. I was not very awake when she stumbled out of bed, gave me a kiss, told me she'd see me tonight, and took off. I realized a few minutes later that "the talk" would probably happen tonight. It did. We went out for dinner, and ended up in a secluded corner of a loud restaurant. I don't remember the conversation exactly, it was pretty much of a rehash of my story from last night. There were more detailed questions about what had happened, when I felt OK to go without a diaper, and how it affected my life. She didn't quite take it as well as she had the night before. She didn't say much of anything at all, in fact, as I re-explained my fictional plight, and answered her questions in more detail. After a while, she said that it was OK, and she didn't have a problem with it. She said that it hadn't been an issue up until last night, and it didn't need to start being one now. I was relieved. Conversation soon moved on to other topics, and the issue of diapers didn't come up again. That evening, as things progressed, she indicated that she wouldn't be opposed to spending the night in my room again. As we entered the room, she kissed me deeply, grabbed my crotch, and a very nice and intimate evening was begun. Later, as we were laying in the bed holding each other, she whispered in my ear, "Shouldn't you put on some protection before you go to bed?" My initial though was that she meant a condom, and was ready to go again, but she reached over to the bag of Attends and pulled one out. While this was disappointing on one hand, it was very exciting on another. Here was someone willing to share my bed, knowing that I wore diapers. Granted that she didn't know the real reason, but I still realized it was something special. I went into the bathroom to put the diaper on, and pulled a pair of boxers over the white brief. Somewhat nervously, I went back to he bed. She rolled over, and smiled. "Heh, you look kind of cute like that," she said with an impish grin on her face. I climbed into bed, and we went to sleep in each others arms. I woke up at about four in the morning, and she was still sleeping in my arms. I felt a pressure in my stomach, and rather than wake her as I got up to use the bathroom, I just let go. I felt the warmness spread over my diaper area. I quickly fell back asleep. I woke again to the feeling of hands feeling the front of my diaper. "Wow, you really are wet!" She kissed me gently on the lips, and we fondled each other tenderly, me playing with her C-cup breasts, and her gently massaging the front of my wet diaper. I suddenly realized that I had a meeting I needed to be at, and swore that this potential fun would have to wait. Thursday night we went out for a late dinner together after she got off work. For the last three days I had not worn a diaper during the day, and I had begun to convince myself that I would need to have an "event" so that I could feel OK wearing them in front of her during the day. My mind works in funny ways, sometimes. Despite the fact that I could probably just start wearing and tell her that I feared an accident, for reasons that I still don't understand I felt it necessary to be a little more dramatic. We headed out for Mexican. I had made sure I had a bunch of water before we left, so I needed to go even as we left the hotel room. Just as we were getting to the restaurant, I just let go. I soaked my pants, and the car seat. I looked down in mock surprise. "Oh, crap." "What hap.." she looked over. "Oh. OOOH." I felt bad deceiving her, and I think that showed through, but she took it as I felt bad about what had just happened. "Let's go back to the hotel. Give me your key card; I'll run up and grab a clean pair of pants." "And a towel." "And a towel," she agreed. We drove the three minutes back to the hotel, and she ran upstairs. I sat there in my wet pants, on the wet seat, wondering what I had just gotten myself into. As the pee cooled, it was not feeling like such a good idea any more. She re-appeared a few minutes later carrying a towel-wrapped bundle. Inside was a sheet, a wet washcloth in a plastic bag, my pants... and two diapers. "Can you change in the back of the car? I brought the sheet so you could cover yourself." It worked pretty well; I spread the sheet between the front and back seats, stripped off my wet pants and underwear, and cleaned myself up. As I was putting the Attends on, I asked her why she had grabbed two diapers? "Well, I didn't know if you'd have another accident. I'll just stick this other one in my purse in case you need to change later." She laid the folded towel on the seat, and I moved back to the front, crinkling slightly as I sat down. The rest of the night was relatively uneventful, with a nice dinner and her sharing my bed for the night. The morning dawned with us spooning, my arms around her. I felt so comfortable with my arms around her, and the damp bulk between my legs. I remember thinking, "Huh, that's funny, I don't remember wetting last night." The alarm went off after I lay in bed for a few minutes, and I disentangled myself and picked a pair pants and underwear out of my bag. As I headed for the shower, Laura asked sleepily, "Are you... going to be OK... without... protection today?" I was a little taken aback. She immediately backed off a little. "I mean, you had an accident last night. What happens if you have one at work? Didn't you tell me that it's episodic; isn't it more likely to be a problem today?" I wasn't sure what to say. I didn't really feel like wearing one today, but I wanted to continue the narrative I had built so far. I sighed. "Yeah, you're probably right. My dejection was real, I really didn't want to, but I didn't think I had a choice. I tossed the underwear back, and pulled another diaper from the bag. It was getting low. "I need to pick up some more, I guess." I closed the bathroom door, and proceeded to have a nice shower. A dry diaper, a little powder ("Helps with the chaffing"), and I was ready to go. The evening drive back to the hotel was a nightmare with traffic blocked for 45 minutes due to an overturned tractor trailer on the highway. I felt the need to go. "What the heck", I thought, "this is as good an excuse as any." I let go. When I finally made it up to my hotel room, Laura was waiting. "Let's go! We're going to meet a friend of mine for dinner, and we're late!" "I, urm..." I couldn't actually say it. She saw me pause. ""Are you wet? Oh, you had another accident?"" ""It was the traffic. I couldn't make it in time."" ""Oh. Well, that's OK. At least your seat isn't wet this time."" She laughed. ""Well, at least the seat of the car! Well, quick, change."" I grabbed another Attends and headed for the bathroom and before long we were at the restaurant, and I was being introduced to her friend, and her friend's new boyfriend. The beers went through me quickly, and to let off a little of the pressure I released some into the diaper. Not a lot, of course, just a few drops at a time. I got up twice to use the bathroom to Laura's knowing glance, opening two of the three tapes on a side so that I could use the stall. While I knew the diaper was a little wet from the intentional dribbling, I didn't think it was nearing it's capacity. So when she said "I think you're leaking" in my ear as we were walking out to the car after saying our goodbyes, I was very surprised. I was sure I wasn't that wet. Was I? The barely visible damp spot indicated that I was. "I don't think anyone else noticed. It's dark. But, if you're already leaking, I don't want you ruining my car seat like you did to the rental!" I looked around. "Do you have a towel or something I can sit on?" "Here." She pulled a diaper out of her purse. "Go back inside and change." "I can't walk back in there carrying this!" There was no way I was going to walk in there carrying a diaper! She handed my the paper bag that the restaurant had put the "Doggy Box" containing the rest of her salad in, and I managed to roll the diaper and fit it in the bag. "It's dark in there. Just go change." I walked inside, clasping the top of the bag shut to hide the bright white diaper inside. Luckily, the restroom was right off the entrance lobby, and I got in quickly. As I unzipped my pants, it became obvious what had happened. One of the times that I had gone to the bathroom, I must have ripped the plastic covering with the zipper of my pants, and the wetness was soaking through. I untaped the old diaper, rolled it in a ball, and put it in the bag, taping on the dry diaper. The used diaper went in the trash, with the doggy bag, on the way out. I explained the ripped diaper to her when I got back in the car. She was surprised that could happen, but it was clear that in her mind that meant that I had still wet the diaper, even though I had used the bathroom twice that night. After about a week, my interest in the 24/7 wearing that I had subjected myself to was again getting old. I stopped wetting, and started making a concerted, though subtle, effort to make sure she knew I was staying dry. After a few days, I started going without a diaper and she only made a few 'Do you think you're OK?" comments. I would still wear a diaper whenever I thought that we would be away from a bathroom for a while, since I felt I needed to keep up the appearances, but over about a week I was wearing only rarely during the day. March turned into April, which turned into May. This pattern got to be a routine. I wore when I wanted to, didn't when I didn't. My wearing ceased to be a big deal. I "managed" it as I saw fit, sometimes wearing during the day, usually not. I did have a few "bouts" of bad times where I wore 24/7 for a week or two at a time, but I would always get tired of it after a certain amount of time and "dry out" again. Night was actually becoming a little problem, though. Over the past few months I had become so used to waking up in the night and just peeing as I lay there that I was starting to not remember waking up. I was mildly worried about this, as I did occasionally visit my family on the East coast and I didn't want to be an "actual" bed wetter! More importantly, when I wet without being aware of it I often leaked, as I sleep on my side and unless I roll to the front or back the Attends would not absorb well. This lead to more wet beds than wet diapers, and while Laura was reasonably good natured about it, she was clearly not terribly happy when she woke up. After waking up in a puddle for the third night in a row, she finally "suggested" that I should look into a better solution. "Can't you find something better? Baby's diapers don't leak this much." "I'll look around. Adults don't have as many options." ""What about wearing some plastic pants or something? I'm getting sick of waking up in a wet bed."" Of course, I was very familiar with the options out there, having browsed the Internet, shall we say, extensively. "Let's look at the web tonight. Perhaps we can find something better." That evening I showed her some of the various sites that carried the diapers I had tried. I read various reviews with her, and we ended up getting some Molicare Super and Tena diapers to try, which promised to be better for night use than the Attends that I had been using. While they did work a little better, wetting while laying on my side continued to be a problem. One of the sites we had looked at had cloth diapers and plastic pants, and Laura asked me if they would work better. "Maybe the cloth would keep things from leaking out the side?" "Maybe, but how am I going to clean them? It's not like I want to be doing laundry all the time here." "Well, that's true. Maybe you could just put the plastic pants over the disposable?" "Yeah, I guess I could try that. Let's see what we can find." It wasn't long before she found the plastic pants with prints on them. "We should get you these! They're so cute!" That was not my thing. I just looked her. "Well, I guess they are kind of babyish." "Kind of? Wearing diapers is bad enough, I don't want to look like a baby while doing it!" She started to say something, but just laughed instead, and reached over to give me a hug. "Oh, lighten up already. It's just cute and fun. It's not like you're a baby or something. But it doesn't hurt to have a little fun with it." A few days later I had a few pairs of plastic pants, including one blue pair with some prints on it that she insisted on. They did help to reduce the leakage in bed somewhat, although I had to be careful standing up in the morning as the pool of pee would sometimes drain down my leg. === (...continued...)

Forward The events here are largely true, and happened in the years 2000-2002. I was in my mid twenties. While there are some lines of dialog that I remember very clearly, it's safe to assume that most of the dialog I've made up; who can remember who said what 10 years ago? Snippets of conversation that I have a strong enough memory of to be able to say that is exactly what happened are marked with double quote marks, ""like this."" I've changed some names and places for privacy reasons. There also may be a few inconsistencies in the memories; while I've tried to remember to the best of my ability, time distorts memories and it's not clear to even myself what the exact truth may have been. So I've put it down like I remember it, and hope that it's close enough. There are also some slivers of memory that are interspersed here because I have a spark of memory of a certain image in my mind, or something that was said, or some other crystallized moment in time. I want to record it, but the surrounding details aren't part of the memory. Take them as the slivers they are, woven into the story as a whole. =========================== The story starts in the fall of 2000, when I was commuting to Seattle from California pretty much full time. I would fly up to Seattle on Monday evening, and fly back Friday night. The huge amount of time away from my family and friends gave me the first real flexibility to experiment with diapers. As I spent more and more time on the road, I began wearing them more and more, to the point where I would put them on at the airport in Sac, and wear them continuously up until I had to be face to face with someone I knew. Outside of work, I wore them all the time, to restaurants, movies, bars, and of course at the hotel. They were a coping mechanism for the loneliness of the constant travel, as well as something I had been interested in for a long, long time. Perhaps I'll relate some earlier stories at a different time. At one point during the February of the spring of 2001, I was supposed to have taken a ski trip to Whistler with friends, and had planned on staying for two weeks. Since I would already be in Seattle for work the week before the trip I decided that I would simply not go home one weekend, and drive up to join them in Canada. Due to poor ski conditions, though, the ski trip was canceled. Rather than scheduling a trip home, I decided to stay in Seattle, and go skiing by myself. I should tell you a little about the games I play with myself. I often use the flip of a coin to decide my "fate" for the upcoming time period. For instance, if I know I will be alone for a weekend, I might flip a series of coins. The first coin would be whether or not I would wear diapers at all. A 50-50 chance... if it comes up heads, I get to indulge in my fetish, if it comes up tails, I don't. If it comes up heads, I'll flip another coin... heads means diapers 24/7 for the time period, tails means I get to choose. Since diapers are a fetish and not a lifestyle for me, being "forced" in the diapers 24/7 removes some of the fun aspects... I can't just get off on them and then be done. If the coins determine that I'm to be in diapers 24/7, I'll flip another coin. If the third coin is heads, I don't get to use the toilet to pee, at all. This means that I basically force myself to wet all the time, and the only use for a bathroom is to change my diaper, or to poop. The last coin eliminates the "poop in a toilet" option... I'm only allowed to use the toilet once a day, before a shower in the morning, and all other eliminations throughout that day must use the diaper. When the coins have come up heads four times in a row, I know that I won't be enjoying things once the thrill wears off. Back to the story... when the ski trip was canceled, I decided to flip coins for the coming two week trip. Monday morning I was packing at home, and was wondering how many diapers I should fit in my bag. I took a quarter, and flipped. Heads. Heads. Heads. Heads. Ouch. While I easily could have ignored the result (it was just me "forcing" me to do something after all...) I decided to go with it. There was no way I could bring 2 weeks worth of diapers with me, so I packed two diapers for the trip, put a third one on immediately, and removed all the underwear from my luggage. I threw my bags in the car and headed for the airport. Things went smoothly at first. When I arrived in Seattle, my first stop was to change my diaper, and then hop in the rental car to drive to the U&I pharmacy in Bellevue where I picked up two bags of Attends. For the rest of the week I went to work wearing a diaper, I went to restaurants wearing a diaper, and I went to bars wearing diaper. Wearing a diaper out was not unusual for me; I had done it many times before. What was unusual was that I had no underwear with me, so any time I took a diaper off it was predetermined that another diaper would be going back on. I quickly gave up on using the diapers for pooping; it was just too much. I tried to use them in the morning for my normal BM, but the occasional mid-day movement was just too much to deal with. After a single episode of a mid-day dirty change, I gave up and just used the diapers for wetting. By Wednesday, I was well into the mindset of a full-time diaper wearer. Already being comfortable with wetting diapers, I was wetting them without really thinking much about it. I shaved my diaper area to make cleaning easier and help keep odors down, and the backpack I carried with my laptop in it always had a few diapers, powder, and wipes stuck in the zippered pockets inside. By Friday, I was really starting to get sick of diapers, which is not unusual when I 'force' myself to wear them for an extended period of time. I was getting sick of the constantly-wet feeling, I was sick of changing them, I was sick of having to keep them covered, and I was sick of trying to keep myself clean to minimize the smell. Luckily, the weekend at the hotel gave me some time away from others, and I could take a little break. I went skiing, lounged around, and was able to relax a little. All diapered, of course. The extra time at the hotel over the weekend gave me some time to flirt with Laura, one of the girls at the front desk. She was studying nursing and psychology, and worked at the hotel in the evening. With nobody else to talk to, I spent a great deal of time chatting with her. On Sunday night, I took her out for dinner, trying to hide my diaper in the close company by wearing loose Dockers and a untucked shirt. If she noticed the diaper, she didn't say anything. It was the usual, "getting to know you" kinds of conversation that two people just starting a relationship normally have. Monday night, I have a very strong memory of standing by the front desk, chatting with Laura, when I suddenly needed to pee. Not thinking about my already wet diaper, I simply let go like I had been doing all week. The thought that I was peeing barely crossed my mind. A few seconds later, I felt something warm drip down my leg, and THAT woke me up. I realized that I was standing the the lobby of the hotel with a leaky diaper... I quickly made up some lame excuse and headed back to my room, trying as best as possible to keep my now-soaked pant leg out of sight. The rest of my two weeks in diapers really sucked. If I thought I was sick of diapers the previous Friday, by the second Friday I never wanted to see a diaper again. I was so used to wearing diapers by then that I didn't give a second thought to changing in public restrooms, or showing a diaper bulge around my waist... it just didn't matter. The only times I tried to be more discreet was at work, and around Laura, who I took out to dinner and a movie the Thursday before I left. Over the next two weeks, I didn't wear diapers at all. I seriously thought I was done with them, that the intense two weeks had broken my fetish. I enjoyed the freedom! During those few weeks, Laura and I had some more fun, going out to some bars, movies, etc., after she got off work. (...more...)