diaperpt

yes, I think, no, and I got no idea! I'm sure you'll get a lot more elaborate answers than that, but why take any of this too seriously?? maybe more helium is a good thing in one way or another...

Let me know if you like this story... diaperpt BLIND DATE “What is your name?” “My name is Stephen.” SMACK! “What is your name?” “I told you. My name is Stephen” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! “Stop being so stupid. I’m not about to let you get away with that. Now tell me, what is your name?” My face stung from the slaps, but I insisted, “My name is Stephen!” This time, not only was I slapped, but my exposed nipples were twisted hard and then I felt excruciating pain as a knee was carefully and forcefully applied to my groin. I crumpled up as much as my condition allowed and screamed out in pain. Everything went dark for a moment and I actually hoped I’d lose consciousness. “You are stubborn, aren’t you? Tell me, what is you are wearing?” SMACK! Yes I am stubborn. “You put me in a diaper, you bitch!” SMACK! SMACK! SMACK! Then I felt the knee again. It took me a while to recover from this one and her voice sounded as if it were coming from miles away. “You are wearing a diaper, aren’t you? Why are you wearing a diaper? Because you need it, don’t you? What is you name, little boy? It’s Stevie, isn’t it? TELL ME, you stupid little fool. You are my little baby now and you need to learn to obey me.” The pain in my wrists where the handcuffs dug in had disappeared as the dull throb of my aching balls took over. The sharp pain in my cheeks competed with the pain from my nipples to complete my agony. My feet were cuffed to the wall behind me in what was actually a comfortable spread while the thickness and discomfort of the diaper I wore was just a mild reminder of what this woman intended for me. “Now, one more time, what is your name?” “My name is Stephen…” I braced for the smack that didn’t come. “…and this is the last time, I’ll ever agree to a third party blind date!” Again, I braced for more punishment. “Oh, you can say that again, little Stevie! This is the last date of any kind you’ll ever have. You are now my little baby and you’ll live with me here for the rest of your life. You aren’t being very cooperative right now, but I have a great deal planned for you and eventually you will come around. For now, maybe you need a nap.” She reached down and released one ankle cuff, twisted my body and pushed me into the wheel chair sitting next to me. Quickly a strap was brought around my midsection and tightened, holding me firmly in the wheelchair. After releasing the other ankle cuff, I was wheeled across the room to face a large crib with barred sides and a barred top as well. Suddenly I felt her grab my nose and as I instinctively opened my mouth to breath, a large bulb was thrust in and held in place as I felt straps around my head tighten to hold this gag firmly in place. It filled my mouth entirely, but was flexible and I found also that I could breathe through it. Next I felt a sharp pinch in my right arm. I looked to see what was happening as the contents of the hypodermic needle were plunged into my arm. A warm darkness began spreading through me, thankfully relieving my pain but pushing me into a deep sleep as well. As I slept, what would have seemed any other time to be a nightmare was simply a recollection of what had happened the previous evening. A ‘friend’ of a coworker I didn’t particularly like or trust had suggested a blind date with this stunning knockout of a woman. I’d seen her around at Friday happy hours and from a distance seemed like a genuinely hot prospect. Against my better judgment and a quiet internal voice telling me to beware, I’d agreed to a blind date with Susan. I met her at the bar, had a few drinks and some small talk and then went to a nice restaurant down the street that she suggested. In spite of the internal voice telling me to be careful, I found myself entranced by this beautiful woman and was all too ready when she suggested we finish the evening at her home just a few miles away out in the suburbs. We left my car and headed out in hers. I was put off by the stockade fence and the remote controlled, high gate which she explained away as something she’d put in after being burglarized twice. I should have let this tell me something, but I was thinking too much of getting into her pants. Little did I know that the only pants involved that evening would be mine. Minutes after I began sipping the drink she’d made for me, I faded to black onto her sofa. When I awoke, I was in the crib I just mentioned. I lay face down with my hands cuffed behind me and my legs were secured to the corners of the crib. She indeed had ‘gotten into my pants!’ They’d been removed, along with all my other clothes. I felt some bulk at my waist, which I soon discovered was an adult sized disposable diaper. As if this wasn’t enough of a surprise, I then realized all the body hair had been removed from my body – at least all that I could see! As I lay there, I felt pressure within my bladder. If I wasn’t let up soon, I would be in big trouble. Well, actually I was to be let up soon, but I had no idea what kind of big trouble I was really in for! Susan – my blind date – soon approached and began explaining to me how this had all been a set up to entrap me. Apparently the co-worker who had set this up had noticed one day when my off and on diaper fetish drove me to try wearing a disposable diaper to work under my dress slacks. I’d always thought no one would ever notice. After all, I’d worn many times before and no one had ever said a thing. I had made the assumption that not saying anything meant they didn’t notice. They had never said anything to me, but it was now clear that they had talked quite a bit and made elaborate plans! She continued, saying she had always been a very dominant woman and had always wanted a man who would be subservient to her. The three friends had cooked up this scheme having decided that I was a worthless person who fit Susan’s requirements perfectly. Her plans were simple. I would become her big baby boy and live with her. I was to be kept in diapers and baby clothes in the cellar rooms of her large private home and since I had no family and few real friends, my sudden disappearance would seem strange but could be explained in carefully planned ways. My signature was forged on letters resigning from work, giving up my apartment and transferring legal power of attorney to Susan. She explained that my casual interest in diapers would be translated into total 24/7 diapers, plastic panties, baby clothes and any other items she deemed appropriate. She said that I’d eventually become functionally incontinent, but I’d barely notice since I’d have no choice but to use my soon-to-be ever present diapers. My name was to become “Stevie” instead of Stephen, the name of a person she said now no longer existed. I was injected with some drug, brought out of the crib and locked into a standing position with the handcuffs attached to the wall as well. I was left alone standing there for quite some time, during which my bladder could wait no longer and I was forced to release into the diaper. The feeling of the warm pee inside the tight confines of the diaper felt stranger than it had ever felt when I’d worn a diaper voluntarily and it occurred to me that I must be hairless like a newborn baby under the diaper as well. Then the interrogation began - my refusal to cooperate and her retribution – this is where I began my story. All this flowed through my mind as a bad dream until I began to wake. The realization of my position forced me to reality. I lay face down in a crib cage, hands bound behind my back and legs bound to the sides of the crib. My groin still throbbed, my cheeks felt raw from being slapped and the tenderness of my nipples reminded me that the nightmare was real. All my body hair had indeed been removed and my only clothing was a now very wet disposable diaper. It seemed like ages, but couldn’t have been long before Susan approached. “How are you feeling now, little baby Stevie? I bet your diaper is nice and wet, huh? Need a change?” I tried to speak, but with the big gag in my mouth I could only mumble. “Oh Stevie, don’t worry. I’ll give you another chance to cooperate. First, let me feed you a little of your little baby formula.” With that she released my legs enough to turn me on my back, hung a large heavy clear plastic bag full of milky white liquid onto a pole at the head of the crib. She carefully attached a hose from the bottom of the bag to the front of the gag in my mouth. Soon a heavy pasty liquid flowed into my mouth. I might have been able to avoid swallowing but instinct took over. With each swallow, more of the paste followed. The bulb in my mouth allowed me only a hint of the bitter taste of this formula and my hunger and thirst got the better of me. Part way through the feeding, I was forced to allow myself to pee again. This reminded me of how wet the diaper already was. The bag of formula was followed by an equally large bag of a strange tasting apple juice. By the time I finished this my stomach felt bloated and unable to accept any more. After a while Susan returned and with the help of the wheelchair, brought me to the interrogation wall again. “This time I’m not going to mess around with you.” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! “This time I want you to cooperate with me, understand?” SMACK, SMACK, SMACK! The drugs which had been injected into me mixed with the drugs in the formula and juice. Those drugs might not have even been needed as the very painful memory of my earlier punishment washed over me. I was ready to do almost anything to avoid another punishment session. “What is your name?” “Stephen…” I saw her open hand and quickly said, “Stevie! Stevie! My name is Stevie!” “Good baby. Your name is Stevie, Baby Stevie. Say that for me – Baby Stevie.” I felt my cheeks redden in anger and humiliation, but I said it. “My name is Baby Stevie.” “What are you wearing, Baby Stevie?” My cheeks burned even more as my head sagged and I looked to the floor past my only clothing. “A diaper.” SMACK! “Look at me when you talk to me!” Now even more angry than embarrassed I glared into her eyes. Still the fear of being hurt more overwhelmed any other thoughts I had. “A DIAPER!” “And whose diaper is it?” I hesitated just a bit. SMACK! “It’s my diaper! It’s my diaper!” “And your name is…” “My name is Baby Stevie.” “And you wear a…” “I wear a diaper. My name is Baby Stevie and I wear a diaper.” “Now, Baby Stevie, do you need a new diaper?” I wasn’t even thinking long term – of what this progression would ultimately mean for me. I only knew of the pain inflicted on me and the certainty of more if I didn’t obey. “Yes, I need a new diaper.” “Why, little baby? Is your diaper wet?” My head sagged in embarrassment, but I quickly looked up to avoid another slap. “Yes, my diaper is wet.” “Oh, how did that happen?” “I wet my diaper.” Even as I said this, I felt a rapidly building pressure in my bowels. All the other pain and activity had hidden the urges which had been slowly gathering. “Okay, little baby. I’ll change your diaper for you, then.” Relieved that I’d won even this small concession from my captor, I got brave. “I need to go to the bathroom.” “What?” “I need to go to the bathroom. I’ve got to take a crap.” “Oh you silly little baby. You don’t seem to understand. I’m not going to punish you for that. Instead, I’m going to pretend you didn’t say anything.” She quickly grabbed the gag, jammed it in my mouth and fastened it securely. I could only groan my disapproval in muted complaints as she unfastened the tapes of the soaked diaper hanging low around me. She took a large baby wipe and cleaned around my shaved diaper area and then carefully fastened a new disposable diaper tightly around my waist. As much as this reinforced my destiny, it felt so much better than the wet sogginess of the old diaper against my bare skin. Still, I soon felt a sharp cramp in my bowels as well as a fullness in my bladder. Susan walked away leaving me to suffer the cramps and anticipation of the inevitable. I didn’t have to wait long as even with my butt cheeks firmly clenched I felt a warmth part them. A hot mushy mass soon flowed out into the waiting diaper, which only served to smear and spread the mass onto my cheeks even as I felt a large bulge in ‘my’ diaper. Just as the first wave of mush subsided, my penis released a hot stream of pee. The pain of my punishments, the embarrassment and humiliation I’d suffered and now the hot, sticky mess in the diaper made me realize how much trouble I was really in. I had little time to contemplate this as Susan approached. “Eeeww, stinky little baby! What did you do?” I hung my head. “I SPOKE TO YOU, BABY! WHAT DID YOU DO?” “I, I shit myself.” SMACK! “That isn’t very nice language for a little baby. What did you do?” “I, uh, I pooped my pants?” “Not quite, baby. You aren’t ever going to wear big boy pants again. Tell me what you pooped.” I hesitated. “Tell me, baby. Don’t make me punish you.” “I pooped my diaper.” “I guess you must of. That’s OK. You’ll get used to it. That’s why you wear diapers, isn’t it, little baby. You wear diapers because you pee and poop in them. Can you say that little baby?” Again my cheeks reddened, but I complied, “Yes, I pee and poop in my diapers.” “And so you need…” “I need my diapers because I pee and poop in my diapers.” I burned with humiliation inside, but said the words to protect myself against the infliction of more pain. My mind raced as I tried to assess my situation and hope for getting out of my predicament. The tough approach didn’t seem to work – I’d been slapped, abused, kicked in the groin and drugged for my refusal to cooperate. It didn’t seem like cooperation was going to get me anywhere either, but I reasoned that maybe if I went along with things for now, I might get a chance to overpower Susan and escape what was rapidly feeling like a prison – a diaper prison. “Good Baby Stevie. I think you are beginning to understand. Well, you certainly are stinky, but I just put that diaper on you! I don’t have time to change you constantly. I’ll change you a little later. For now, I’m going to have you clean your nursery just a little. OK? Be good. I’m going to just chain your hands together in front of you so you can get down on your knees and clean the floor a little. If you don’t cooperate, you will be sorry. Trust me.” Maybe this would be my chance! Maybe I could overpower her, find my clothes and get out of here! Anticipation rose as Susan went to a drawer and pulled out two short lengths of chain with cuffs at each end. Somehow, as she was putting these chains on, I’d overpower her. If I couldn’t do it then, certainly I could even with the chains on. My movement wouldn’t be restricted that much, I reasoned. My chance was coming! I was so caught up in the hope of escape that I didn’t notice her carefully practiced casual approach to me. I should have known that what seemed too good to be true, couldn’t have been. “Stand still now while I release your ankles. Be good.” Why wouldn’t she attach the chain before releasing my ankles? It didn’t occur to me. “OK, now for your hands. Be a good little pissy-poopy diaper boy for me now.” My face burned and anger welled within. How dare she humiliate me! I’d get out of here soon and then report this abduction to the police! As the handcuffs were released from the wall then from my wrists, I swung into action. I reached around to punch Susan in the face. I’d never hit a woman before, but then again, I’d never been abducted and held captive by one either. It didn’t seem that I had made that solid of a connection, but she went down like a sack of flour. I guess she wasn’t as tough as I’d thought after all. I thought fast and soon I had Susan spread out on the floor, but locked into the cuffs which had just held me prisoner. I rushed around the room, opening drawers and doors looking for my clothes, but to no avail. I decided perhaps I’d find my clothes or some suitable substitute upstairs. I raced to the door I reasoned led to the upstairs, but as I opened it my heart stopped. Staring me in the face was a duplicate of Susan, but much older. In a motherly voice she said quietly, “I think you owe my daughter an apology, Baby Stevie.” Before I could react, this woman sprang at me and suddenly I’d been kneed in the groin again, flipped on my back, knocking the wind out of me, flipped around onto my stomach and cuffs reapplied to my wrists! “Now, would you like to apologize to Susan, you worthless piece of crap?” Effortlessly I was dragged into a standing position, dragged to the crib cage and none too gently thrown in. The bars slammed shut around me, finalizing my fate. I looked over to see the older woman release the cuffs from Susan, who was completely conscious and laughing a demonical laugh. “You played right into it! You aren’t just a pissy-poopy diaper baby, but you are a stupid one as well! Mother and I knew you’d want to try to escape, so we set you up to learn how futile it is! I want you to know that escaping from this room is unlikely as the door will always remain locked whether I’m in here or not. If you didn’t notice, it is controlled by a combination rather than a key, so even if you should be able to overpower me or Mother, you will not have the combination. You may have noticed the bars on the few windows down here in the cellar. There is another locked door at the top of the stairs, also controlled by a combination lock. Though decorative in appearance, there are bars on all the windows upstairs as well and you’d find the outside doors quite secure also. Then of course if you did manage to get to the outside of the house, you’d discover the electric fencing just inside the walls which are quite unclimbable anyway, but topped again by more electric wires which would completely incapacitate you but not harm you in the long run. I hope you realize that even if you were somehow able to totally incapacitate Mother and I you would be locked forever somewhere in this compound. You’d run out of food and eventually starve in the long run. You need to understand that you are hopelessly and completely dependent on us – just like the little baby you are Stevie. Now are you ready for a little punishment?” The crib was unlocked and I was dragged across the room and bent over a bench. My ankles were spread an uncomfortable distance apart and my arms pulled tightly and cuffed at a painful angle. I braced myself as best I could when I heard a whoosh sound behind me. Instead of the sharp pain I expected, it was muted as I realized I was cushioned not only by a diaper but quite a large amount of shit. The initial contact caused the warmth to spread across my cheeks as well as wedge more into the crack of my ass. “There. I’ll give you your spanking later, Baby Stevie. For now, let me just spread your poop around a little bit more.” I felt her hands pushing on the diaper and the resulting mush spreading further on my cheeks. She worked to push the mass down into my crotch and up toward my balls. While a woman playing with me normally would be arousing, this felt disgusting inside and out. The thought of my own shit smeared over my body was degrading and humiliating. “Yeah, little Stevie, that feels icky, doesn’t it? Just imagine how bad it will feel when it turns into diaper rash! All your pee-pee will burn you as well. This is not only a punishment for trying to escape, but also a lesson to teach you how important it is to let me or Mom take care of you. You’ll learn that you have no control over yourself any more and you do need us to take care of you. We’ll diaper you, feed you and put you in your crib. Those are your only needs now. In return, you’ll learn to behave and do the chores we expect you to do.” I have no idea how long I was left in this position. Whether I passed out or fell asleep, I don’t know but I seemed to drift in and out of consciousness. Several times Susan returned and connected a large bag of juice to my gag and I drank thirstily. I sank into a fog; undoubtedly from exhaustion and perhaps drugs. I felt myself pee over and over again – almost as if I were outside my own body. I felt a gaseous buildup in my bowels and a resulting flood of diarrhea into my already full diaper. Somewhere along the line I began to feel a trickle down my leg – was it pee…was it diarrhea or a mix? I couldn’t see and it occurred to me strange that I should even be thinking these thoughts, fuzzy as they were. The only thing that wasn’t fuzzy was the pain which began to develop across my ass. I wanted to scratch it, but knew that would only make it worse. The skin of my crotch tingled in pain and I realized I was developing a well planned and very painful rash all over the skin covered by the diaper. My wrists and ankles ached where I was cuffed. Every muscle in my body was sore and stiff from being locked down, but the focus of my existence became the growing patch of burning skin, etched by the acid of my own bodily waste. I was beyond feeling humiliation or embarrassment; I wanted only to be released and have some cooling relief from this rash. I was in such a fog of consciousness that I began to hallucinate. I felt myself float out of my body and look down at me strapped down on this bench. I could see the diaper now dark brown from dried shit and little brown streaks of diarrhea tracing paths down my legs. From this vantage, I reached down and traced the path on my own legs and actually felt a tickling sensation. I reached out and touched the back of the diaper, feeling for myself the now semi-stiff coating of shit within. At the same time, I felt the sharp sting on my ass where my finger had touched. I felt sorry for me as I looked down at myself. I recognized how helpless I was and how dependent on Susan I’d become. I began thinking how much I wanted her to come to me, release me, clean me up and put me into a clean diaper. At the time, it didn’t even seem strange to want to be re-diapered. I was in a total irrational state and only wanted to be cared for and to have relief from my current situation. I experienced this strange out of body experience at least one other time. I had at least a few more feedings and felt more pee and diarrhea escape and run down my legs before finally Susan and her mother came to release me. I was barely conscious and unable to move and so was merely dead weight for them. I remember being plopped back into the wheel chair and screaming out in pain from my diaper rash. I was wheeled into a bathroom, my diaper removed and placed in a warm soothing bath. I thought perhaps there was some sort of additive in the bath to soothe my rash and I later released I’d probably been given some sort of drug to ease the agony of my rash. After some time I was taken out of the tub. Half led, half dragged I was placed on a changing table where I felt myself slathered with some sort of cream before my butt was lifted and placed on a thick pile of soft cloth. I next felt the cloth being drawn between my legs and fastened tightly around my waist. For now, at least, I felt nothing of my rash – only a distant feeling of tightness. Next I heard more than felt snaps fastening. I lifted my head slightly to see plastic pants enclosing and protecting thick cloth diapers. Very drugged, my head fell back down unable to support itself for any time. Soon I found myself lying in my crib, actually sucking on my gag as warm mush flowed into my mouth. After swallowing everything that flowed through my gag, I felt myself drift off to sleep. When I woke, I felt much less drugged and I guess as a result, felt sensitivity underneath my diaper. As I moved in the crib, I could tell my diaper was wet but not soaked. Soon I heard Susan approach. “Hi little Baby Stevie! Are you feeling a little better? You certainly have slept long enough, little sleepy head. Is that nasty diaper rash going away? We’ll see soon enough. Let’s get you up. Now, I don’t think you are in any condition to act out, but remember that if you are bad you will be punished!” While I was less drugged, I still felt very much in a fog and resisting in any way was not even a faint thought for me at that time. I lay passively as Susan unlocked the bars of the crib and helped me move to the changing table. I guess as a precaution, she bound my wrists at my side and my legs into stirrups like gyno’s use for women. “Oh Stevie, you look so cute in your little diaper and plastic panties. Even though you’ve been drugged, it’s nice to know you’ve been wetting and messing with no thought. You’ve slept through any number of changes and I’m not sure you even were aware of your feedings.” She put a pillow under my head so I could see her as she worked carefully unsnapping the plastic pants, removing a double thick cloth diaper and wiping my still red skin beneath. “Ah, it looks so much better, Stevie! Another day or two of cream and it will be all better. I hope you’ve learned at least a small lesson from this! Have you?” I wanted to say something, but I didn’t even know what. The gag in my mouth relieved me of any responsibility to talk, but I found myself making almost cooing sounds into the gag. Still in my fog, I had no capacity for anger. I realized she was working carefully and gently and the cream she applied took away the slight burn remaining in the rash. “Oh that’s right, baby, you have your paci in – you really are getting to like it, aren’t you?” Without any thought, I realized I was nodding my head in response and realized I was sucking on this gag as if it were a baby’s pacifier. Wait – that’s what she called it – it was a pacifier. A wave of humiliation rushed over me and I felt my face turn bright crimson – partly in embarrassment and partly in anger. “Oh Stevie, don’t take it that way. You’re my little baby now and that’s just the way it is. Well, Mom and I are allowing you to continue feeling your embarrassment over being a baby – that’s part of the fun of it. But you are a baby; you wear and use diapers, you eat only from a baby nipple – soon from a bottle, you sleep in a crib and you’ve just told me how much you like to suckle your pacifier. You are acting more and more like a baby each day. You really are beginning to accept your role. Well, maybe Mom’s hypnosis has something to do with it, but it doesn’t change the result.” The knowledge that I’d been drugged and hypnotized did little to lessen my rising humiliation. The drugs must have been wearing off as my brain began processing more and more. I remembered back to my blind date with this woman and the mistake of going home with her. I even remembered the taste of the drink which first incapacitated me – the bitter aftertaste of the first swallow should have tipped me off, but it had been too late by that point anyway. I remembered my resistance, the kicks in the groin, my attempted escape and being placed over the bench only to be punished by my own effluent. I remembered the explanation of the security of my new prison and with this, sank into despair. I felt Susan finish the process of diapering me and snapping on a clean fresh pair of diaper panties and I rolled onto my side in my crib and pulled myself into a fetal position. Without thought, I lay there rocking myself to sleep, sucking on my pacifier in complete despair over my new diaper humiliation. Days went by – sometimes I would be changed by Susan and sometimes by her mother Ellen, who trained me to call her ‘Gam.’ Susan became “Mommy” or “Mamma.” The embarrassment of being forced to address these two in such babyish talk burned through me, but between spankings, slaps, drugs and hypnosis, I gradually accepted it. I knew I was a grown man potty-trained before my earliest recollection. I knew I’d had a job, an apartment with an adult bed, a dresser full of underwear, socks and other clothes as well as a well stocked closet. I knew I held normal conversations with other adults both at work and in my leisure time. I knew all this, but I began to realize this was all in my past. Gradually Mommy and Gam explained more details – certainly to make me more embarrassed but to accept even more the loss of my past and the futility of thinking about any future out of their total and complete control. Not only had they forged documents to take over legal power of attorney, but Gam was a justice of the peace and had officially married Susan – I mean Mommy – and I. As my wife – and Mommy – with full legal power of attorney in all regards, even if I managed to escape, I’d have no control over my own affairs. While I didn’t understand all the details of how, Gam and Mommy had somehow gotten me declared mentally incompetent and had developed an entire scenario to explain away any attempts I might ever be able to make to explain my situation. I’d been gradually bottle trained and given a new pacifier instead of the locked gag. I missed the taste of real food, but hunger always got the better of me and though I hated my own complicity, would ask for my bottle when I knew mealtime approached. The pasty formula had little taste to it but my bottles were proportioned to my physical size and so filled me well. This was supplemented with bottles of juice and water, which I can only assume were drugged at least in some small way to keep me compliant. I grew accustomed to the feeling of my own pee flowing into my diaper and being absorbed into the always soft cloth. Somehow my bowels had been trained to release on a regular basis soon after my breakfast bottle and so my first change of the day was always into a disposable diaper to save on the messiness of pooping into my cloth diapers. At first, when I felt the urge to pee or poop, I’d try to hold back in spite of the realization of the inevitability of peeing or pooping myself. Gradually I let go of this urge and would almost be surprised as I felt a flow of pee. At some point I remember trying one more time to hold back my pee, only to realize I had actually lost control of my muscles – I was now incontinent! Although I had seldom cried as an adult, I cried and cried then realizing my body’s acceptance of my new baby state. I wondered if I’d ever regain control of my bladder as I rocked and rocked in my crib, as reality slowly crept over me; I no longer had any control over my existence and never again would. Gam and Mommy told me what to do and when to do it. They fed me, changed me, bathed me and put me to sleep. There was not going back. I had strength enough to get out of my crib – when it was unlocked, walk or crawl around my room and into the bathroom, and had once been allowed upstairs only to be shown the barred windows and locked doors to illustrate the futility of any thoughts of escape. I knew all too well that beyond that, my strength had been sapped by drugs, hypnosis and lack of muscle tone. I’d tested my strength during diaper changes and baths and there was no way I’d have strength enough to exert any effort against Mommy or Gam. One day Gam came and got me out of my crib. She changed my very wet diapers, wiping me carefully and applying the usual baby oil and powder. My plastic panties were pull-on with a little circus print on them. She then introduced something strange and different. At first, as she brought over a pile of cloth to my changing table, I was reminded of casual adult cloths. My hopes were dashed however as she pulled a shirt over my head, rolled me back and snapped the crotch of a onesie. I looked down to see the picture of Elmo from Sesame Street emblazoned on the front. Next, Gam pulled shorts up my legs and tugged them over my bulging plastic panties. They were baby blue and not only had an elastic waist, but elastic legs as well. Far from adult clothes, this outfit only dampened my spirits. Irrational thoughts of being allowed some measure of adulthood were dashed. She finished the ensemble by producing little baby blue booties and slipping them onto my feet. “Aren’t you just adorable, little Stevie! Come on, let’s go upstairs. Your mommy is waiting for you.” Something inside me feared what was coming, but I felt powerless to resist. I allowed myself to be led out of my room, up the stairs and into the kitchen above. There, Mommy was waiting for me. In her hand was a bunch of baby blue leather straps. Gam said, “OK Stevie, hold still while Mommy puts on your new harness.” I burned in humiliation and fear of what might be coming. I tried to struggle away from Gam, but she held me firm. “No, Mommy. Please no, Mommy. What are you doing? I don’t want that harness.” I struggled more and felt a sharp slap across my face for my efforts. “Stevie! Stop it this instant! Stevie!” While I knew all too well the senselessness of struggling, a deep fear overcame me and I reacted out of deep animal instinct. “Oh mother, I don’t want to have to drug him.” “Susan, you have to.” As I struggled against Gam’s firm hold on me, I felt the injection in my arm and soon I was allowed to slump into the wheelchair, which hadn’t been used since my arrival. I slipped into a foggy but conscious state as the blue leather harness was eased around me. Firm cloth mittens were slipped over my hands and were somehow attached to the sides of the harness, making all but the slightest movement impossible. The locking pacifier which hadn’t been used for a long time was slid into my slack mouth and fastened. I was then wheeled out the front door and to a waiting car. Belted firmly into the back seat, I sat helpless as the mother-daughter team slipped into the front of the car. We drove for quite a while. We pulled into the parking lot of a large building. I was put back in my wheelchair and wheeled into the building. My humiliation burned deep with my first public appearance since my imprisonment. There were many people there and while most tried not to stare, their curiosity and amusement at this fully restrained adult baby burned through me. I let my head slump to avoid eye contact, but I knew they were staring and undoubtedly wondering about this big oversized baby in front of them. In the elevator, I felt myself release into my diaper and a tear crept down my cheek in the realization I was now publicly wetting myself. I had little time to wonder where we were going as we left the elevator and entered an office whose door read, “Primecare Laser Hair Removal.” So this is what we were there for. Up to this point, I’d been carefully shaved once a week. At one point, Mommy had tried a cream depilatory on me, but I developed a small rash and she decided not to try that again. Now here I was, apparently to have permanent hair removal. Mommy spoke in quiet tones to the receptionist and moments later I was wheeled into a suite of treatment rooms. I was beyond measuring time by this point, but it didn’t seem to take long. I was laid out on a treatment table, my clothes removed and two technicians came into the room. Thankfully a clean diaper was left under me on the table as part way through the treatment I peed myself. I hear Mommy explain a lot of medical jargon to the technicians. They merely nodded a sympathetic nod and went on to complete my treatment. They explained that this one time treatment should result in complete permanent hairlessness other than the sides and top of my head. Even my face and neck had been treated so that I would never again have any hint of a beard or even sideburns. I was soon re-diapered and dressed again in my baby outfit, placed in the wheelchair and we were again soon on our way home. To add to my public humiliation, we stopped at a fast food restaurant and I was wheeled in. Gam and Mommy ordered from the regular menu as Mommy pulled a big bottle of juice out of a large diaper bag she’d brought with her. She leaned over and whispered in my ear, “Baby Stevie, I’m going to release your pacifier and your mittens. You will drink your bottle and you will NOT say a word! Keep in mind two things. First of all, I can and will feel free to explain your medical condition to anyone and everyone here, so that no one would believe anything you had to say anyway. Second of all, if you do say anything, you will be put back into the car, driven home, drugged, spanked and spread eagled on the punishment wall for two days without a diaper change. You would of course be fed a constant diet of water, diuretics and bulk. Would you like that Baby Stevie?” I quickly shook my head no and soon was quietly sucking on my oversized baby bottle much to the amusement of young and old alike. Several kids I guess between 6 and 12 actually came over and asked Mommy what was wrong with me – why I had to have a bottle and why I was dressed like I was. I wanted to drop my bottle and tell them I was a prisoner and forced into this, but instead I sulked as Mommy explained that I’d had an accident and though I could talk like an adult, didn’t even really understand whatever I might say. I needed a diaper because I wet and messed like a little baby and my stomach could no longer tolerate adult food, so I could only have baby formula and juice. Some of them just accepted what Mommy said with a serious face while others laughed. A few made comments like “What a big baby! He really pees and poops in his diaper? HaHa! That’s funny!” and “He really makes a cute little baby! I love those little baby blue diaper panties!” and “Does he have that harness on so he doesn’t crawl away and get lost?” With each comment, Mommy actually encouraged more questions and further humiliated me in everything she said. Finally Gam and Mommy finished their meal and we went home. I was changed, put in a fresh diaper and put to bed in my crib. I don’t think I’ll ever really be used to the treatment Mommy and Gam give me. We’ve gone out many times since that first time. It took several treatments of laser hair removal before it stopped growing back. Slowly my diet and lack of care has caused dental problems and most of my teeth have been removed by a dentist sympathetic to Mommy and Gam’s purpose of keeping me as a baby. Mommy has a special stroller for me now and takes me out to the park, for walks and to restaurants. Each experience is an opportunity for further humiliation. I remember that I’m supposed to be an adult, but I know I need my diapers. I need Mommy and Gam to take care of me. They feed me, change my wet and dirty diapers, let me sit in my big new playpen and put me in my crib when it’s time for bed. I’m constantly embarrassed by this but I understand it is my fate. Let this story be a warning to all you who ever might think of going out on a blind date! Mommy has told many of her friends about me. I’ve been at many of Mommy’s parties where her friends take turns feeding me and changing my diapers. Some of her friends have come and stayed with me for days while Mommy and Gam have gone on vacations, business trips and even to conventions of dom women, eager to learn from my Blind Date. Beware!

You might find something similar by looking at AB store sites...check the links page...maybe someone else will respond with the answer to your specific question. You might try a medical supply store for plastic or rubber bed sheets. Another idea is to use an old shower curtain under your regular bed sheets - the sound is nice and crinkly and gives good protection to the mattress itself as long as you don't flood...but of course, you or your Mommy (or Daddy) should keep you thickly diapered when in bed... Good luck!!

I keep checking too! I miss them. Maybe I broke them...hehe...it took forever for me to get a password, then for the longest time I forgot it and couldn't log on...then finally, just when I managed to get my password back - within a few days - their server went down! Hope they can get back soon!

...and so, the next time we're out and a big wet spot appears on our pants, we just whip into the scientific explanation..."Well, you see, the reason that wet spot is there, is..."

traditional - mostly boring - ate too much. as a holiday, not great, but i am very grateful for all i have. I'm very fortunate to have more than an awful lot of people in the world. love my diapers too!

I've had to give myself double Fleet enemas for some simple in office procedures and a complete cleanout with phospho-soda for colonoscopies. Stuff sure works...but I don't know as I'd want it in my diaper! I actually enjoy pooping my diaper, but I'm not sure I'd like to deal with diarhhea such as some laxatives will cause. I'm OK with Fleet enemas and I actually prefer suppositories. Yes, you need to be careful to avoid becoming dependent but doing it now and then over a long time has not seemed to harm me - at least as much as I can tell. What consistency of poop are you willing to deal with - watery and runny or just something to force you to push it out? Thing is, if you need to go poop and have a diaper on, its going to happen! You don't really need to force it out. How long can you hold on? I've never tried castor oil, mineral oil, or ex-lax - someone want to jump in and describe the effects you get from each?

It may seem weird being aware of what others think, but sometimes telling a spouse could mean the end of the relationship and further, if certain people knew about a diaper fetish, it could easily mean the end of a career. On one hand, I admire those of you who are in secure positions where your gf (bf) or spouse can easily accept your diapers. On the other hand, I'd lose my wife, my family (2 daughters and a son) AND my career.

Hi Richard, Right now I'm wearing a cloth diaper with a cloth insert - both homemade. Two pair of plastic panties - inner ones yellow and outer pink. I'm also wearing a bra but don't have my onesie on. Yeah, I'm a guy - just like the feeling of wearing a bra...

was a middle & high school teacher 30 yrs+ now ordained minister and love my diapers when i get a chance to wear...

Hi, I've used this site for a long time now but am just getting around to registration. I'm a DL with some AB stuff going on. Love my pacifier, drinking from a bottle, and wetting and messing my diaper when I can. I like mostly cloth and plastic panties but use Depends when I'm going to poop and some other times too. I can't be open about diapers 'cause I'm married to a woman who would NOT understand, I've got teen kids who would NOT understand and work at a job I'd lose in a second! Looking forward to corresponding with others here - I'm on ABY.com but new there too. Sooooo.... HI stay wet and stay happy! diaperpt