willnotwill

Mom delivered me a handful of panties from Mary’s room. I pulled off my tights and put one pair on. Other than the one day I wore Jessica’s Depend, it was the first time I wasn’t in a diaper for a long time. I hope I don’t screw up and wet myself. I dressed and wet down for dinner. Mary was already sitting there steaming. “Don’t worry; you’ll get used to wetting yourself.” She glared at me over that piece of advice. I decided to risk it further. “Don’t worry; you’ll never get over having to poop in them.” Her eyes burned, and I thought she was going to take a swing at me, but she then sunk back in her chair and started to cry. I guess she hadn't realized yet that she was going to have to do that. The rest of the family sat down, and dinner progressed. “Have you thought of a name?” my mother asked. “Name?” I said. “Well, Matthew isn’t exactly a girl’s name,” my father said. He had obviously been a party to the whole discussion I had with mom. “You could use MATT-il-da,” my little sister said, emphasizing the “Matt.” “Matilda is a nice name,” my mother added. “You could still use Matt or Mattie as a nickname.” “I’d call him ‘Tillie,’” Mary said coming out of her funk over the diapers. I kind of liked the idea of Mattie. “Matilda it is then,” I decided. “You can call me ‘Mattie.’” My father held up his water glass. “To Mattie.” Everybody else did similarly, even begrudgingly Mary joined in. “To Tillie,” she said. After the table had been cleared, my sisters and I launched into our homework. I wasn’t really paying attention to anything else. I took out a sheet of paper to start on my math homework. I wrote “Matthew Stovall” at the top and then remembered. I erased the Matthew and wrote in Matilda and smiled. After a bit, Mary stood up and ran to her room. I didn’t know exactly, but I suspected she had just used the diaper. After some TV watching, I went to bed. I got out the nightie I’d been wearing. Tonight, I just removed my panties and put the panty of the nighty on. I’d forgotten the feeling of the satin directly on my skin having switched to diapers so soon after getting it. I started to get erect. This was odd. What girl had one of these? The next morning my mother accompanied me to school. We were escorted into the principal’s office and discussed my name and gender change. He’d been primed for it, so there were a few forms to fill out. He took me aside and took my picture and handed it to the secretary. Minutes later she returned with a new ID card. I was now Matilda Stovall. I went to class. Nothing much had changed. A teacher or two called me Matt, but that was OK. I went to lunch. I was hoping Jessica would come by and she did. I smiled broadly at her. “What?” she said when I didn’t say anything more. “I’m not wearing diapers anymore,” I said. “Cool, how’d you swing that?” she asked. “I took your advice.” “What advice?” she asked. “I slid over my new ID card.” “So?” “Check out the name.” Her eyes grew wide. “Matilda?” “I made the switch. You can call me ‘Mattie,’” I said. “I’m happy for you.” We chattered about dance class. I wanted to tell her what Madame said, but I think it was supposed to be a secret at this point. I just told her that in retrospect I thought I had done well in the audition. “I’ve just got one problem,” I said. “What’s that?” she asked. “I’ve got to pee, and I’m a little nervous about using the girl’s room for the first time.” “Well, come on then,” she said. “Us girls go to the restroom together all the time.” And off we went. When we got there, Jessica pushed her way in first and held the door for me. “Come on,” she said. I inhaled and entered. It wasn’t really any different than the boy’s room save for the lack of urinals. I went into one of the stalls and locked the door. I sat down. I guess from now on; this is what I should do. I finished up and headed out to join Jessica at the sinks. Jessica was applying lip gloss. “You don’t have any cosmetics, do you?” she asked. I shook my head. “We can go shopping together,” she suggested. “I’d like that, but today my Mom is taking me out to get a few things.” “Like what?” “Panties, for one. I’m wearing a pair of Mary’s today,” I decided to omit details of Mary’s predicament. “And new bras. I’m outgoing the training bra I have.” “I was going to ask about that. You did seem to have breasts starting under your leotard in class. The bulge from the diaper we could understand.” “My mom has been sneaking me hormones.” “Oh,” she said. “Well we better get to class before we are tardy,” she said with emphasis on the word tardy like it was some strange condition. “See you, Jess.” “See you, Mattie.”

Someone pointed out that baby diapers are pretty heavily treated to avoid the facing from burning. Still, loaded up with flammable liquid, it should be a great "wick" for getting things going.

Next time you really need to get a fire going: http://www.modbee.com/news/local/crime/article166826452.html

'Course, a guy'll listen to anything if he thinks it's foreplay. ..

I got mine in the woman's department of some budget department store (might have been Target) years before. PajamaGram has these: http://www.pajamagram.com/women/collections/hoodie-footie up to 3X.

My ex and I changed each other a few times. My current wife used to diaper me every night and did full up changes a bunch of times.

The next dance class I could raise my arms without worry now that I had shaved pits. I knew I was going to have to get my own gel or borrow some from my sister or mother or just use shaving cream. While I had obtained a razor and shaved my face once or twice, I really didn’t have much beard growth, so I didn’t use it. We continued our development in scenes. We put together two minutes of dance at a time. We also did movements in groups now. In one we had to hold hands with the dancers to each side of us. I tried to get, so I was next to Jessica when we did this. Each week we did more and more. Then one week, Madame started running us through a scene. “Zis is your audition piece,” she said. “You do vell on this, and you get a solo role in ze recital.” There it was. I could see girls practicing it even when the music had stopped. Everybody wanted this. Another week came and went. “Today, I vill be making ze decisions,” Madame announced. She lined us up, and we did our basic warm ups. She ran through the audition scene once and then she motioned to the first girl. The music started, and she ran through it. Not bad, I thought. I’d have to be better. The second girl made some obvious errors. The third girl was better. I’d have to be flawless to beat her. Another girl and then it was my turn. I went through the scene and it seemed to pass too quickly. I was afraid I screwed something up and went and sadly waited along the wall as Jessica did hers. We sat down together and spoke quietly. “How do you think you did?” I asked. “OK, I guess,” she replied. “You?” “I have no idea. It was all a blur.” “Good,” Madame rapped her stick on the floor. “I vill let you know next week.” The class started to file out. More conversation followed. Everybody wanted to know how they did. Jessica and I were about the last to leave. Madame came to me. “I’d like a vord with you,” Jessica said she’d see me at school and left. Did I screw up that badly? Was she going to kick me out of the class? I couldn’t handle that. I fought back tears. “I said I’d tell ze class next week,” she started. “But I’ve made up my mind now. I’m giving you the lead in ze recital.” I was stunned. “There’s one thing. Ze diaper. It won’t look good under the costume.” I was shocked. My mind raced. “Jessica wears a thinner style. Would that one be OK?” Madame thought a second and second and nodded. I’d have to borrow some from her or ask my mother if I could switch. But that wasn’t going to dampen my spirits. I had the lead. I ran home and told my mom. She expressed great pride in my accomplishment. Mary came in. “Did you hear?” Mom said to her. “Matt has been given the lead in the ballet recital. Isn’t that great?” “Great,” Mary said with sarcasm and anger in her voice and stormed off. She wasn’t happy to be showed up. I went unstairs and looked in the mirror. I tried to imagine the recital costume. I would need to get rid of the diaper. In the process, I looked at my underarms. I’d probably need to shave again, and I hadn’t done anything about getting my own supplies. I decided to see what my sister had in the bathroom. I looked in the medicine cabinet and didn’t find anything useful. My razor was there. I knew my shaving cream was in the drawer with my stuff. I opened the drawer Mary used. It was jammed full with stuff, and there was always stuff of her on the sink as well. I started looking through it. I pulled out a box of tampons and set them aside on the sink. Skin creams, lip sticks, deodorant. Didn’t she have any of the gel. “What are you doing in here, Diaper Boy?” my sister yelled at me. “Why are you even in the bathroom. Why don’t you go poop in your diaper, Diaper Boy!” “I have to wash, too,” I protested. I shut the drawer as I was talking hoping she didn’t really notice what I was doing. “And what are you doing in my stuff,” she protested. I looked around. The tampons were still on the sink. “I ain’t touching your stuff. Other people have to use this bathroom, too. “You leave your stuff all over the place.” I gestured at the bottles around the sink with a flourish. Alas, I hit the box of tampons in the process. It went over spilling many into the toilet. “Now you’re in trouble, Diaper Boy,” she screamed. “Mommm!!!!” My mother stormed into the room. “What is all the screaming about?” “Diaper Boy threw my tampons in the toilet!” Mary protested. “Don’t call me Diaper Boy,” I screamed back. “Enough!” Mom said holding up hands to both of us. “Both of you, to your rooms.” Mary stormed off and slammed her door. I went into my room. I was silently fuming. Not only was Mary a bitch, but now I was going to be punished for it. I decided this would be a good time to change out of my dance stuff, so I pulled off the leotard. I reached in the drawer for one of my training bras. Pulling it on I paused. I took it off again and felt with my hands. I looked in the mirror. I remembered Jessica’s joking comment about my tits. I hadn’t noticed it I guess, the training bra being ann odd sensation, to begin with, but I was beginning to get breasts. This was odd. So far my entire descent into femininity was just clothes and dancing, but why was my body changing. I sat there for a long time pondering this. My mother knocked on the door and I quickly finished pulling the training bra on as she entered. “Sorry mom, just changing out of my dance stuff.: I grabbed a robe and sat down. “Knocking her stuff into the toilet was an accident, Mom. I’m sorry. But Mary kept yelling about the diapers.” “I know,” she held her hands up to stop my pleading. “I’ve already dealt with her on that subect. As for you, she says you were going through her stuff.” I decided to confess. “I was looking for shaving gel to do my arms.” “I see. Well you’ll need to replace her tampons.” OK, I thought, I could do that. “You’re shaving your underarms now?” mom asked. “I did once. I had to do it when I switched to sleeveless leotards. It was embarrassing in class. My friend Jessica helped me the first time.” I decided to omit the details on how we had done it. “OK. I suppose we need to help you get some more feminine products. Do you need anything other than shaving stuff?” I paused. “Well, Madame says I should wear something other than the diaper I have under my costume. Even with just a leotard it shows. One of the girls wears these Depend Silhouette. Could I try that.” Mom nodded. “Anything else.” I hesitated. I wanted to ask about my recent discovery. I didn’t know how to bring it up. “Is there something else you want to tell me?” she asked. “It’s strange. I don’t know why it’s happening.” “What?” “My breasts are growing.” “Let me see.” I took off the robe and removed the bra. She felt the budding forms. “How do you feel about this?” “I don’t know why it’s happening. I didn’t even notice it but Jessica did.” “The hormones are working.” “Hormones?” I said confused. “Those pills and cream you use every day.” “I thought that was for my face.” “That too, but they are female hormones. You’ll note other changes.” I thought about it. My skin had softened, but I just assume that was expected with the face cream. My musculature was different, but I just assumed that it was all the ballet exercises. “Why?” “Because it seemed like you were having enough fun as a girl that you should get the full treatment.” This hit me like a ton of bricks. “I don’t want to be a girl,” I protested. “You don’t? You dance en pointe. You shaved your arms. I noticed you studying the fashion magazines looking at clothes.” I thought hard about it. I had explained everything so far as just being interested in dance, and that mom was punishing me for teasing the girls. “It would be easier if you accepted it. For one, we could stop worrying about your ambivalence about the bathrooms at school. Mr. Howard said that if you wanted to enroll as a girl, you could use the girl's bathrooms.” I thought about it more. She was right, I had thought more about girls things of late. And I’d love to be out of the diaper. “If you want to do it, we can get you panties right away. Of course, you probably should still wear something under your leotard, remember that accident. But we can try the ones your girlfriend wears.” I thought about it. It seemed like Mom, Jessica, and probably everybody else knew I was turning into a girl before I did. “OK, I’ll do it. Are we going shopping tonight?” “No.” “You said right away,” I protested. “We’ll go shopping tomorrow. For now, you can have Mary’s.” “She’s not going to be happy about that,” I commented. “She’s already not happy. But it’s fair. She’ll be wearing your diapers for a while for teasing you about them.”

The weeks passed, and I was getting really depressed. I was alone. At school, all my old friends ignored me for being in girl’s clothes. At dance class, they ignored me because I was a boy or because I was a diaper or perhaps I was showing them up. My older sister continued to be hostile to me. Even though initially she loved the idea of forcing me into her clothes, she now saw it as taking attention away from her. My little sister followed her big sister’s lead but most of the time just giggled at me. The only time I was happy was while dancing. Dance class progressed from basic exercises to stringing things together into scenes. Madame even started playing music, so we had some accompaniment other than her drumming on the floor with the stick. It was hard to tell, but she seemed to be spending less time correcting me than with others. Coming home one day my mother pointed out that my leotard and tights were getting worn. We diverted to the dance store to buy new ones. They didn’t have a short sleeve one like the one I had been wearing so I got a couple of tank top ones. The store clerk also pointed out that I probably should make an appointment for a new set of pointe shoes before too long. The next week at dance class we were doing a pirouette and a jete. I did mine for the second time and heard giggling. Was I doing something wrong? Madame didn’t seem to notice. I let it go. The next day Jessica came to me at lunch. She looked as if she wanted to ask me something, but she hesitated again. “What?” I said. “Umm… If you are going to wear sleeveless leotards, you need to shave your underarms,” she said. So that’s what the laughter was when I raised my arms. “I can help you if you come over to my house this afternoon.” I thought about it a minute. The only other option, short of trying it myself was to ask my sister or mother for help. I’d rather have Jessica. “OK,” I replied. She wrote her address on my notebook. I made my way to the address after school and rang the bell. She met me at the door. “Come on in,” she said. I walked in and started looking around. “My parents won’t be home for hours,” she said sensing my curiosity. “Come upstairs.” She led me upstairs and to the bathroom. The tub was already full of water and bubbles. “It works better if you’re in the bath. Soften things up.” “I don’t know about this,” I said. “Don’t worry. I said my parents won’t be back anytime soon. Take off your clothes and get in the tub. I’ll get the rest of the stuff.” She left the room, and I kicked off my shoes and socks and got out of the blouse and skirt I was wearing. I pulled off the training bra and with a brief hesitation slid the now wet diaper down and off. I got in the water and slid down under the bubbles just as Jessica returned. She set my clothes aside and then started laying out things on the edge of the tub. One was a razor, and the other was a tube of something. “This is a moisturizing gel,” she said. “It works well. Just keep soaking your arms.” She stood up and removed the dress she was wearing revealing a bra with developing breasts and something that wasn’t quite a panty. I stared. “I don’t want to get my dress wet,” she said slyly. She set it aside carefully. I continued to stare. “Oh, this is a Depend Silhouette. I have accidents from time to time. Mom got this for me. It’s not anywhere as bulky as that,” she said pointing to my diaper. “You should wear it instead under your leotard.” She had a point. She got down and pulled my arm toward her. She squeezed some of the gel into her hand and then started rubbing my armpit with it. She then picked up the razor and started to work. She’d shave a bit and then swirl the razor in the water and repeat. She finished the near side and then leaned across me and started on the other arm. Her breasts hovered just in front of my face. I was glad the bubbles hid my growing penis. When she was done she took a towel down for me. I stood up holding the towel in front of me. “You’re not going to put that wet one back on?” she said pointing at my diaper. It was asked as a question, but she didn’t hesitate for an answer. “Hold on,” she said. She dug under the sink and came up with an unused Depend like she was wearing. “You can put this on,” I made motions of drying myself trying not to expose myself to her more than I had. She picked up the razor and gel and started putting things away. While she had turned away, I quickly pulled the Depend on. Now I could use the towel to full advantage. She turned and came very close and looked up at me. Here we were in our underwear, such as it was, and she came closer, and we kissed. She drew back and patted me on the rear. “Time to get dressed,” she said. We did, and she took my used diaper downstairs. “I’ll throw this in the outside can,” she said. A minute later she was back. She came up and kissed me again. “See you tomorrow,” she said, and I made my way home, thinking of Jessica there in her Depend panty and bra. Now I had two things to smile about. Dance and her.

Methinks that you should have spent a minute to find out what this site is about before posting your spam.

I think that's the new default if you don't set up one explicitly. Google and Apple have been doing similar nonsense in their software.

Yep, the last bunch of times I skiied I was diapered up. Near impossible for me to easily get out of my ski gear anyhow.

I continued with the exercises and helping Jimmy with his work. He was finally starting to come around and could legitimately start the advanced beginner level. My toes were hardening up and were the muscles I’d never before used in my legs. Still, on the occasions Madame dropped in, she continued to adjust my form with her stick. My hair started to grow longer and got easier to put up in the bun for class. It got annoying during the day otherwise so I started putting it in a ponytail. Going to school in girl’s clothes started to get routine. Even wetting the diaper instead of using the bathroom wasn’t too bad. I still hated pooping in it and resolved to never do that at school or any place I couldn’t get a quick change and preferably a shower out of it. Formal pointe class started. This took a lot of worry off me. Madame led the girls through initial exercises. These were ones I had already been practicing, so most of the time Madame directed her stick towards other students’ forms. At one point we broke off our group work as Madame had each of us take a few steps in front of her and the rest. As my turn came, I heard the girls giggling and whispering between themselves. Frankly, I thought I wasn’t that bad. Madame dismissed the commotion with the rap of her stick. School continued to be a drag. What few friends I’ve had other than Jimmy seemed to ignore me now that I was dressed like this. I muddled through. My big joy was the times I got to spend at the barre either alone or with the class. This went on for weeks. I really thought I was doing well in class (though with Madame you could never tell). One day I was eating alone. Jimmy wasn’t around, and I was just moping. A girl placed her tray opposite me. “Is this space taken?” she said. I shook my head not really paying attention to her. “I’m Jessica. Aren’t you in my ballet class?” I perked up and looked at her. All the girls looked about the same, clad in leotards and hair tied back. She was wearing an oversized gray shirt and shoulder-length blonde hair hanging free. She did look familiar, however. “Matt,” I said in the way of instruction. “I guess I am.” “Can I ask you something?” she said. “Go ahead.” “You’re a boy right?” “Yes.” “But you’re wearing a dress?” “Yes, I am.” “And you are taking pointe lessons?” “You’re in the class, too.” She paused for a second. She seemed to have properly identified me, but she clearly wanted to ask something else. “Go ahead, ask,” I said. “I don’t care.” She paused and leaned forward. “Do you wear a diaper under your leotard?” I grinned. “Yes, and I’m wearing one now.” Her eyes grew wide. Finally, she asked the real question. “Why?” “Why am I in ballet?” I started. “Because I was hanging around outside the class being a nuisance and Madame thought I needed to be there. Once I got started, I found I really liked it.” “Why am I in girl’s clothes? I was teasing my sisters one day about their clothes and this was what my mother decided to do about that.” “The diaper started because I wet myself in an early class because I wasn’t used to getting out of my leotard and tights quick enough. Then my mom felt it best for me to wear them at other times, so I didn’t have to worry about going into the boy's room like this.” She took it all in. “We were all wondering about that. Me and the other girls in the class. Some said you were wearing a diaper, but I couldn’t tell for real.” It occurred to me that this was a lot of what the whispering and giggles were about. I had to ask. “What do the other girls say about me.” “A lot of them thing your weird between the diaper and being in a girls class. Some of them are a little hostile thinking that you’re taking up space one of their friends might be in.” “My sister is a bit mad that I have passed her.” “Your dancing is up to snuff though. They probably won’t get really pissed unless you beat them out for the lead in the recital,” she laughed and tossed the blond hair to the side. She was quite cute. “Why don’t you just use the girl’s bathroom instead of the diapers?” “I’m not a girl.” “You dress like a girl. You dance like a girl, better than many. Your tits are even better than half the girls in the class.” I laughed at that last joke. “Well, we’ll just have to see how things progress.” “Yes,” she smiled. She picked up her tray and started away. “See you in class.”

Very cute.

I tried a variety of thinner diapers. For years I used the Sam's Club briefs which were OK (these appear to be the same diaper that shows up in multiple store brands including Walgreens, CVS, and Walmart). I finally settled on the Attends Breathable Extra Absorbency. Best mix of absorbancy and thinness I've found. You can still get them, but the Attends site no longer lists them (though they appear to just have rebranded things so I'm wonering if the "advanced" is the same).

I don't know if it was an intentional change or not, but the recent color changes have serious legibility problems. Black and gray on medium or dark blue is pretty hard to read. Some stuff like at the very top is white on dark blue which is good.