Cindy Marie

Though this post is about fantasies with humiliation and shameful diaperings, I'm going to tell my true experience with being humiliated and shamed with diapers because I couldn't make up anything that would come close to what I actually went through. I'm sure many won't believe me but that's alright. I know it really happened just as I'm about to write. It started around 1950 while I was in foster care. Having been born out of wedlock, my mother had to board me out so she could work to support the two of us. The family took in several boy boarders and had one child of their own, a girl about a year older than myself. I clearly remember the events that changed the rest of my life and they were so bazar I need not add or fantasize anything. My first shaming happened when I was almost 7 years old. It was a warm, sunny morning and we boys were playing in the back yard when I suddenly needed to use the bathroom. Not wanting to stop playing long enough to go inside, I slipped behind a tree to relieve myself. The youngest boy, seeing me, ran inside and told the foster mother what I'd done. I was immediately called inside and asked if what he said was true. Though scared of a spanking, I confessed with pleas I'd never do it again. Without hesitation, she told me to get undressed. I was confused by her command but dared not disobey as I started to remove my clothes. As I did, she went to the back door and called the other kids inside and had them line up across the room to watch. When I stopped from embarrassment, she snapped, "I told you to get undressed and that means all of them including your shoes and socks." I was really shaking now as I got down to just my underwear. Just as I was slipping my t-shirt over my head, I heard her tell her daughter to go and get her a couple of the baby's diapers and some diaper pins. That's when I knew her intention and I went into shear terror, screaming for forgiveness. She quickly grabbed my shirt and finished removing it while I struggled to get free. Grabbing my arm, she pulled me to the kitchen table and pulled me up onto it. I remember kicking so hard that my foot knocked her glasses to the floor making her even angrier as she called the older boys over and told them to hold me down. Her daughter returned and handed her the diapers while I squirmed with terror helplessly. My mind was spinning in horror at the thought of being put in diapers like a baby. Once she folded them to fit my larger frame, she told the boys to lift me up while she slid the soft fabric under me. My head was reeling as I lifted my head just as she pulled the diapers up between my legs and drew the first corners together. Looking up, my eyes were so filled with tears I could hardly see the other boys faces as I felt the cloth being pinned at my hip. Then I felt her pull the remaining corners taunt across my stomach and finished pinning me in my degrading garment. The moment the second pin clicked shut, all my resistance suddenly stopped and I numbly surrendered to defeat. Sitting me up, she grinned with victory as she told me, "Since you didn't want to use the bathroom like a big boy, now you won't have to. You can use your diapers as that is what they're for." Her words cut into my psyche as I felt dazed and in a trance like state. Lowering me to the floor, she directed me to face the other children while I tried to hide my degrading garment with my hands. "Put your hands behind your back so everyone can see what a little baby you are.", she snapped. I was so traumatized, I blindly did whatever she wanted. She told me to look down at myself and tell everyone what I was wearing and why. I could only mumble tearfully, "I'm wearing diapers because I wet outdoors." I was quickly corrected with her response, "NO! You're wearing diapers because you didn't want to use the bathroom like a big boy so now you won't have to. You can use your diapers like a baby. Now look up at the others and stick your thumb in your mouth." She then directed everyone to point at my diapers and laugh while calling me a baby. I could see they were really scared but it didn't ease the devastating humiliation and shame I felt. After what seemed forever, she told them to return outside. Turning to me, she said, "You too!" I was horrified by her words and burst into further tears as I begged to stay inside. To my relief, she said, "Very well. Then run along until I call you for lunch. But you'd better not try and remove those diapers until I say you can." I headed for the living room feeling surreal and detached. The rest of the morning is still a blur but I vaguely remember looking down at my lap and feeling so infantile at the sight of wearing diapers. The next memory I have is the mother coming and ordering me to follow her for lunch. My heart started racing again at the thought of again having the other kids see me in diapers. Just as we entered, I immediately spotted the baby's high-chair pulled up to the table while she ordered me to climb up. I couldn't get my foot high enough so she grabbed me and helped me in. Though I was hanging my head, I could see her struggling to get the tray to snap in place. Once it did, I felt so trapped and on display to the others. I felt so ashamed and couldn't look up as she went and brought the food to the table. She then placed a bowl on my tray and ordered me to eat. I was really out of it and couldn't move. She became angry and told me I'd better eat or she'd feed it to me like a baby. I heard the other giggle as she took the spoon and filling it, pushed it to my lips. "Now eat if you don't want a spanking." After the first mouthful, she gave the spoon back to me and I struggled to eat. She also brought me a large glass of milk and it puzzled me because I'd never seen such a large glass before. "Now you're to finish drinking this before I'll let you down." True to her words, I had to sit there long after the others had returned outside until I managed to finish the milk. At the time, I didn't relate to the consequences or reasoning for such a large drink. It wasn't but an hour or so later when the reason became apparent and I again needed to use the bathroom. Horrified of further humiliation, I went and begged to use the bathroom only to be reminded that was what my diapers were for. "You didn't want to use the bathroom before so now you don't have to, you can use your diapers. Now run along." I was shocked and couldn't believe she was serious. I thought she was just trying to scare me as further punishment. As time passed, the need grew stronger as I bent over with painful cramps. In desperation, I approached her again only to be told if I bothered her again, she'd put me outdoor with the others. Totally terrified now, I went off to a back room while clutching my privates. Just as I entered the room I felt the diapers growing wet around my fingers and I let go in humiliating defeat. My head swirled with shame as I felt myself being reduced even further to that of a real baby. Bursting into tears, I stood with my legs parted and felt my urine run down my legs to form a puddle around my bare feet. My attention was interrupted when I heard her voice as she stood in the doorway. "What have we here? Has baby wet his diapers? Now isn't that better than having to use the bathroom like a big boy?", she grinned. I was totally traumatized and in shock as she told me to stay until she returned. Her words brought a spark of hope she was going to prepare to remove my shameful baby pants. Just moments later, I heard her call me into the next room as I rushed with excitement my punishment was about over. Just as I entered, I saw the other children gathered across the room. "Get yourself over here.", she demanded in a harsh tone. I was frozen with shame but she quickly grabbed my arm and stood me in front of everyone. "Now tell everyone what you just did." I couldn't speak as the crippling humiliation froze my ability to respond. Repeating her demand, I cried, "I wet myself." "You mean you wet your diapers like a baby, don't you? Now say it. Say, I wet my diapers because I'm still a baby." I just stared at the floor, completely debased and degraded. Angered by my silence, she grabbed my hand and said, "Well, since you insist on ignoring me, lets see how you like showing others what a little baby you've become. She then pulled me across the room to the front door while I screamed to be let free. Opening the door, she forced me out onto the sidewalk where passing cars could get a good look at my humiliating condition. I stood frozen with shame as several cars drove by seeing me standing there in my wet diapers. My mind was numb yet still aware of what was happening. After a couple of minutes, I heard the door open behind me and she called me back inside. As soon as the door was closed, she again grabbed my hand and led me over to the baby's playpen. "We can't have you running around, soiling the furniture in those wet diapers. You'll have to stay in here until I have time to change you. At that she lifted me over the railing and sat me down on the plastic pad. I will never forget the cold chill I felt on my legs as I felt the plastic against my bare legs. Having the other children gather around once again, she told them to tell me what a cute little baby I was. The first time they were told to tease and call me a baby, they seemed really scared, but now they seem to enjoy my plight as they giggled and even talked baby talk to me. The oldest boys seemed to enjoy my crying the most and kept saying, "Look at the little baby. He's wet his diapers. Does baby want to be changed into some nice dry diapers?" There was no doubt they were enjoying seeing me treated as a baby. My crying probably added to their fun but I couldn't stop. It seemed forever before she returned and told them they could stop and return outside. Looking down at me, she gave a pleased grin as she asked if I'd learned my lesson yet. I was quick to respond with a tearful but hopeful, 'YES!' Lifting me over the railing, she took me upstairs to the bathroom and removing my wet diapers, told me to get in the waiting tub to take my bath. "Hurry up and don't take all day while I get your clean clothes ready." My heart was excited at finally returning to some sort of sanity as I washed up faster than ever before. Grabbing a towel, I wrapped it around my waist and darted for my bedroom. She was waiting by my bed as I looked around for my clothes. That's when I spotted the fresh diapers spread out on my bed. I immediately burst into tears as I begged her not to make me wear diapers again. Without saying a word, she grabbed me and lifted me onto the waiting cloth. "You can have your clothes back in the morning. For now you will remain in diapers just to make sure you don't forget what happens to boys who don't want to use the bathroom. Once again my head was spinning as she pinned me in my shameful garment. This time I didn't fight as I knew it would only bring further punishments. Thankfully, she kept her word and my regular clothes were returned in the morning after I had my bath. I was only punished with diapers one more time about a year later for having an accident on the way home from school. It wasn't nearly as humiliating though as she kept it from the other children. That night, after my bath, she told me that since I was still having accidents, I must still need diapers. She called me into her bedroom and told me I was to sleep in the baby's crib. I remember her threatening to call the other kids in to hold me down if I resisted or made a noise. I was really scared of them finding out as I laid there helplessly while she again pinned me in diapers. Before I fell asleep, she came in and gave me a baby bottle with instructions I was to finish it before she returned or else. The next morning, she loosened one of the leg openings so I could use the bathroom while at school. I had to wear the diapers under my regular clothes and could hardly concentrate in class as they bunched up under my bottom and felt really uncomfortable. I was also afraid someone would discover my shameful secret but thankfully they never did. When I got home, she removed the diapers with a warning if I ever have another accident, she'd keep me in diapers for a week. I was never diapered again though years later, I developed a fetish, wishing I could those events again. Well, that's my true life story whether anyone believes me or not. Back in those days it was common belief to humiliating a child as a way to get them to behave. It worked with me though it also set me on a life path of wearing diapers with wishes that foster mother was pinning them on me. Since it is now a fantasy wish to repeat my childhood diaper humiliations, maybe that qualifies for this post.

Interesting reflections. I was a 40’s child and don’t remember that far back. My memories are only of the Curity gauze diapers and only because they were used on me from the early 1950’s. Though I didn’t have a wetting problem, I was disciplined with diapers several times up until I turned 9. Being so big, she didn’t have plastic pants that fit me so I had to walk around in just the diapers which made me even more humiliated and ashamed. It also let her see when I’d end up wetting them. She would then stand me in front of my playmates and have them laugh and call me a baby. Though those days were horrible, I still remember how soft the cloth diapers felt and how pleasantly warm they felt when wet. Disposable diaper wearers just don’t know what they’re missing but I do... even now!

Wow! I can't believe so much negativity over a preview/ screen test. What do you expect of a short film? For myself, I'm glad there are people out there that want to explore different ideas for films. There is so many BLA mondaine films being made every day. Though this was very weak in overall production,it did get the idea of the film out. I would have loved to see the final production as I'm sure it would change many opinions. As far as this being a dark, boring film, other than the killing of her mother, it seemed mild compared to experiences I myself have experienced. I say this because I also was put in diapers as a punishment. For me it was not for bed wetting. I was an only child, born out of wedlock. To keep from putting me up for adoption, my mother put me in foster care so she could work to support the two of us. I felt like an orphan being too young to understand. There were three other boy boarders and the families only child, a daughter about a year older than myself. When I was six, I was playing in the back yard with the other boys and suddenly needed to use the bathroom. Not wanting to stop playing long enough to go inside, I relieved myself behind a tree. The youngest boy saw me and ran inside to tell the woman. I was called in a asked if what he said was true. Though scared, I confessed with promises I'd never do it again. I was immediately told to get undressed. As I did, Iwatched her call the other children inside and had them line up across the room to watch. I felt scared I was going to be spanked in front of them that is until I was down to just my underwear. Just as I was lifting my undershirt over my head, I heard her tell her daughter to go and get her a couple of the baby's diapers and some diaper pins. That'so when I knew what she planned to do and my world went into a spin. Grabbing me, she dragged me to the kitchen table and forced me onto my back. I was kicking so hard, she called the older boys over to hold me down. I can't begin to describe the horror I felt as I was diapered in front of my peers. Standing me down, she instructed everyone to point at my diapers and call me a baby. I could see everyone looked scared though it didn't lessen my feelings of humiliation and shame. I was kept in the diapers all day and when I again needed to use the bathroom, I was refused and told that was what my diapers were for. After several pleas, I ended up wetting myself only to again be stood in front of the other children and told to tell them what I'd done. At that point I was in such a traumatized state, I just did what ever she wanted, too numb to feel anything. She then forced me out on the front steps, telling me the neighbors should see what a baby I really was. Gratefully, I was allowed back inside in just a few minutes. Because I was wet, she told me to climb in the baby's play pen for the remainder of the day. At supper time I was put in the high chair though I barely fit. It made me feel put on display as the other children sat down. They didn't seem as nervous now and giggled occasionally. When it was time for bed, I felt hopefully punishment would end as the day ended. Instead, I watched her spread a rubber sheet on my bed. I was told I was going to remain in my still damp diapers until morning just to make sure I learned my lesson. The next morning I took a bath and had my regular clothes returned with warnings of a repeat if I misbehaved again. I was never the same after that and lived in fear of everything I did. The older boys often threatened to get me punished again whenever they wanted what few toys I had. Thankfully, they never followed through with their threats. I was only diapered one more time about a year later for not reaching the bathroom in time and having an accident. That time I wasn't diapered until bedtime but was made to sleep in the baby crib in the woman's bedroom. I have told you all this for two reasons. One: there are much darker events that children can and do experience than what happened in this film. Being humiliated in front of peers and having them have to participate is even worst. And though I went through this, I never felt the desire to kill the woman. I was too traumatized to even think or feel anything. I was like a zombie emotionally and too ashamed to resist whatever happened. Maybe everyone reacts differently to trauma but I can' treated except from my own experience. Two: I felt there were some key points made in the film. The fact that people can 'love and hate' both at the same time, really touched a part of me. I have to praise Mr. Bryson for wanting to make a film of such a taboo subject. I feel we need more people like him and more visionaries who realize not all films need to be big block busters to be of true value. Films are a record of humanity and life itself. This should include all the dark as well as the brighter sides if it is to be a true record of understanding of ourselves. So please don't be so harsh on how good a screen test is. After all, it is just a preview and pre-judging what could have been a great film only discourages broader knowledge about ourselves.

just a short addition to my post. In no way was I responding to any entries here but was referring to the general post across the internet. I don't even try to judge which stories are true or not as I have no way of knowing, however, I do believe diaper discipline goes on a lot more often than we know, especially when used to humiliate the child for bed wetting problems. Sadly, parents don't have a manual to tell them how to raise children. Being human, they can make mistakes and some can be life altering to the child. In my case, it was back in the 1940's / 50's when people believed humiliating and embarrassing a child was an effective way of correcting undesired behavior without using physical force. They just didn't know about the mental harm they were doing to the child. I'm not making excuses for the foster mother in my case as I think she had other issues. She was very cruel in many other ways and looking back, I believe she might have been abused at

Very intelligent conversation. I don't usually post but this one really stirred some deep emotions. First of all, I want everyone to know that diaper discipline DOES really happen and not always by the child's parent. I was raised in foster care by a local family that took in several boarders for extra income. When I was six, I got caught wetting outside behind a tree because I didn't want to stop playing long enough to go inside. I was stripped and diapered in front of the other boarders and stood in front of them while the woman had them laugh and call me a baby. I was kept in just the diapers all day and forced to wet them. I was again stood before my peers and had to tell them what I did and that I was now a real baby. I can't begin to find the words to describe the horrific humiliation and shame that I felt. At the time, my mind was in a daze and I couldn't think clearly. My world was spinning out of control and I detached. I had to remain in the wet diapers all day including sleeping in them that night. I can still see her putting the rubber sheet on my bed and telling me to climb in. The other boys slept in the same room with me and though they seemed scared earlier, they now seemed to enjoy my plight. They giggled and teased me for a long while before going to sleep. My regular clothes were returned the next morning after a bath but I was often threatened with a repeat if I misbehaved again. I lived in fear every day after that. The other children would threaten getting me put in diapers again if I didn't let them have what few toys I had. I tell you this to validate diaper discipline does really happen though I have no idea how often. And that is the point I want to make. Since the Internet, I have found I am not the only one. But the real problem is there is so much fetish driven fantasies posted on all the sites, there is no way to know how often it really does happen. Sadly, the Internet could have been a source to learning more about this cruel form of child abuse and the mindsets behind it. I really wish there was better education to preventing others from suffering thru this horrendous form of cruelty. Because of the false postings, the validity of any real truth is lost. The few like myself who actually experienced this abuse have no way to validate it happened. If anyone knows of a way to sort through all the B.S. I'd really like to hear about it. Thanks for letting me have a voice for whatever it's worth.