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  1. I have been using stents for many years now and for me it's by far the best solution to become incontinent. I can keep it in as long as I like my incontinence. Most of the times I use it three to four days at a time, but sometimes, like now, I can't get enough of that helpless feeling and keep it in for a few weeks. For me it is completely safe, it never hurts and I never had a UTI using my stents. Using stents I become totally incontinent, so I dribble all the time when standing or walking around. But when I sit the urethra is being closed by the pressure of the diaper between my legs so the dribbling stops and the pee stays in the bladder. If I remain seated for a long time the pressure in the bladder keeps building up untill it gets too high. Then I start having urges causing the urethra to suddenly give way so I start peeing large amounts in my diaper. The same goes for caughing, laughing or sneezing while sitting in my diaper. The pressure caused by these actions forces the urethra to open up for a while and let me pee small amounts. If I stand up from my chair my bladder will start emptying itself completely and sometimes it means I have to change immediately. In bed my incontinence is different again. If I am lying motionless the driblling also stops and my bladder starts acting like a reservoire again untill I start having slight urges. Then my bladder starts emptying immediately, but not completely. Sometimes I wake up from having these urges, but most of the times this seems to happen while I am asleep. If I turn around, caugh or sneeze I also wet myself a little. Getting out of bed my bladder completely empties itself and then the dribbling starts again. So being totally incontinent you will experience not only constant dribbling, but also urge and stress incontinence depending on the position you're in. But one way or the other, you will never be able to reach a toilet without an empty bladder (and a wet diaper). Apart from urinary incontinence I sometimes experience some other (un)pleasant side effects of using stents. Due to the fact that the stent is also inside the prostate it will gently massage it when you are walking. It has happened a few times that I had orgasms in public. The excitement of being incontinent, the pressure of the wet diaper between my legs and the prostate being massaged all the time, is sometimes simply too much to handle. Wearing a stent for extended periods also affects the strength of my anal sphincter. That's why I have had several accidents doing number two in my diaper when I wasn't anywhere near a toilet, also in public!! And that kind of incontinence is not exactly what I like, but it happened nonetheless.
  2. (jeremy is a nineth grader and comes into his parent room and ask if they can change his pants.) mom, dad can i have my pants changed please
  3. From the album Wearing stent and diaper

    Will I make it to the office in this diaper?
  4. Very interesting piece on the adult diaper "boom" so to speak. It's definitely going to climb with baby boomers getting back into diapers once again hehe. But mainly just discussing the logistics of it and how it's affecting paper sales in general. It didn't get to specific but I think they were almost entirely talking about disposables and even more so it seemed like depends based on the picture they had with it. Take a read for yourselves! http://bloom.bg/2nc3j8f
  5. I used to have a lot of tape problems years back, then I discovered I was at the root of most of it. I now only apply barrier cream with a rubber glove, am extremely careful with powder and only put my diaper on with surgeon hands (thoroughly cleaned and dried). Oils, lotion or powder on your hands easily transfer on to the landing zone and compromise the tapes ability to do it's job. Another problem I had was that I use moisturizer after a shower and the lotion under my forearm was transferring to the diaper, so I had to include that into my ritual. It's now extremely rare for me to have a tape issue. I do credit that partially to the brands I buy. However when I went through my tape troubles, I was beating my head against the wall trying to figure out if it was me or the diaper. For instance, I've never had any luck wit the dry 24/7's, I've tried a few times, last year being the most recent. I'm interested to see who has had tape issues with what brands? Also please include when the diapers were purchased as companies are always making changes to their products and may have since improved (or degraded). On a separate note, If you are having tape issues, try the above. Also, after the tapes are applied, I always rub all four of them quickly to generate friction/heat to help the glue out. Then while firmly pressing all four tapes, I sit up and wiggle around to give the diaper an initial stretch so all the tension isn't on the tape. So how are your tapes treating you?
  6. Hey there this is a thread for all the ab/dls in the NEW SOUTH WALES region feel free to comment and we can chat , would love to meet others and have a real conversation with
  7. Hey! I'm a female in Des Moines Iowa looking for some DL play. Anyone else going to be around for a bit?
  8. From the album Wearing stent and diaper

    Waking up in a wet diaper. How did that happen?
  9. From the album Wearing stent and diaper

    Stent in, diapered in plastic pants, guess I am ready to go to bed
  10. From the album Wearing stent and diaper

    Wearing a wet diaper at the office
  11. From the album Wearing stent and diaper

    In a wet diaper at the office
  12. From the album My stents

    My stent on march 16th 2017.
  13. Hey everyone Im currently looking for a bit of advice when masterbating in diapers, im pretty sure a fair percentage of us diaper lovers do it. Back to the point anyways, I have ran into few medical problems lately, when I have been masterbating or after I have been, I think I have been making the tip of my penis gradully more and more sore, causing me to get thrush. But also on top of that, im guessing its a side effect, I have ran into a problem which has happened to me in the past, but I am not a hundred percentent sure if it was masterbating in diapers that caused it this time or last time. The problem other than the thrush is that pretty much most of the time everyday I have a wet/tingly feeling at the tip of my penis, it constantly feels like I need to pee even though my bladder is empty and the tip of my penis isnt wet at all. It drives me up the walls and makes me very uncomfortable, espcialy seems to be worse when I sit down. I understand wearing diapers is a nice solution but I can't wear 24/7 in life as I don't feel anywhere nearly comfortable to wear in public and that wouldn't be fun for me at all. I have been to the doctors and I do not have a UTI or any STI/STDs, I am currently not sexualy active with anyone else. He has prescribed a cream called daktarin to use for the thrush which I have to apply for 10 to 17 days. He didn't mention anything about the second problem, although I explained it to him. I'm kinda hoping once iv finshed treatment the second problem will disapper with it. So im wondering if anyone else has ran into either of these problems before or has known someone to experience the same or simlar problems, or if anyone has any advice at all towards helping with either one. I would be massively greatful for any help from our commmunity. Thank you
  14. As Sam Gregory awoke one morning from a night of fitful dreams, he found he had been transformed in his bed into a giant baby. He lay on his back and looked up to see himself in a long pair of baby blue footed pajamas, with the soft bulge of a diaper around his waist. He tried to move his arms and legs, and the movements were weak and uncoordinated. He didn't seem to be physically different. His appearance was the same, and he was the same size, but his clothing and ability to move properly had taken a bizarre turn."What is happening to me!?" he wondered. It wasn't a dream- he could feel the bizzare clothing and weak movements as much as see them. He looked around himself. Between the four walls, the rather small but undeniably ADULT room, as it always had been. On his desk were scattered bundles of paperwork and cloth samples- Sam was a travelling salesman- and above it a framed picture of Batman. "Ok" he though "maybe that part isn't quite adult, but STILL! This is ridiculous!" His gaze shifted to the window. It was early morning and the sun had risen but was blocked by cheerless clouds hinting at rain. "Perhaps I'll just go back to sleep and forget this nonsense," he thought. However, that wouldn't work well. He was used to sleeping with blankets, which he guessed he had kicked to the floor. With his new restricted mobility, grabbing them would prove difficult."This is such BS" he thought as he squirmed on his back. He tried to get himself over on his front to move, but his arms and legs weren't cooperating. "You work your entire life, learning to walk, use the toilet, talk, all this stuff, get these stressful jobs, then one day out of the blue BAM! Its all gone. How does this even make sense?" He finally managed to turn himself over to his front. He threw his legs off the side of the bed and tried to stand up, but was met but at sudden pain in his feet. He collapsed to the ground. "Oh great, now I have to crawl?!" He thought. He was near giving up. That effort had all but drained him, and he still found his efforts frustrated. He was near tears, and he wanted simply to begin crying and wait for someone to come help him. "It must be the work," he thought. "Get up every day early, spend you time travelling around when all you want is comfort- of course it will drive a man insane! Much better to just stay at home and let others take care of you, do all the work, feed you, change your... NO! That is what they want me to think." He wasn't certain who 'they' were exactly. However, it seemed someone or something wanted to make him act like a baby, and he wasn't going to play along.He fought back tears. Wanting to cry and be taken care of was all part of it. He wouldn't find a solution be complaining or lying in bed. He'd get up, solve the problem, and go to work, one way or another.He looked at his clock. "Good God!" he thought. It was half past seven, he was running late. He began to crawl towards his cabinet. A voice came from the hallway. "SAM!" It was his older flatmate, Sarah. "What are you doing? Are you ready for work?""Yes, one second! I..." Sam stopped. Was THAT his voice? It wasn't the deep, manly voice he was used to. It was soft and high pitched."Is something wrong with your voice? Are you sick?""I... I don't know. I think so!""I'm coming in!""NOOO!""What is that? Why does he sound funny?" that was his girlfriend, Grace. They shared the flat with Sarah and her boyfriend, Aaron."I think he's sick.""What kind of sickness makes someone sound like that? Sam! Are you sick?""Ummm... Yes! Yes that's it. I'll be in her for a while. Don't worry, I'll be fine.""SAM GREGORY!"Sam's heart sank. That last voice was of his manager at work. "What the hell is he doing here?" Sam thought.His three flatmates outside seemed to focus on the newcomer."You seriously came here? That's obnoxious," Aaron said."WHERE IS HE!? I TOLD him to be hear EARLY today. I had to present to the CEO MYSELF!""But have I not been on time every day before this? An Is always do good work?" Sam stopped when he heard his own voice changing further."Nol. In fact you've been late pretty consistently."Sam flinched. He shouldn't have brought that up. In truth he wasn't the worst, but given the circumstances he didn't think he had much ground to argue the point."...seriously. Aren't there rules against this? I mean, you can't just barge in here. The hell?" Aaron said again."I don't care! I want to speak to him NOW! SAM!"Sam, desperate, tried to speak up. "WES! WES SIWR!" He flinched at his own voice. It was getting worse."He's sick" Sarah said. "Can't you tell that from his voice?""I don't care. No call, no doctors note, nothing. SAM, GET OUT HERE NOW!""WES SIWR! One second!" Sam crawled again to the door and reached for the handle. He had locked it the night before, and struggled to undo it.Finally he managed to undo the latch and the door swung open. There, standing with shocked expressions, were all three of his roomates and his boss.Sam tried to sink into the carpet. He hoped the bulge of his diapers weren't too noticeable, but figured it was a lost cause."WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON!?" his manager said."Well clearly he's sick!" Grace said pleadingly. "Yes he clearly is SICK. What is wrong with him?" the manager replied."No not that kind of sick," she almost whined. "Like, disease sick. He doesn't normally do this!""What kind of illness makes clothes appear? That doesn't make sense!""That's actually a good point," Aaron said."YOU'RE NOT HELPING!""Never said I was trying to help. Just stating the obvious."His manager was clearly annoyed. Sam's work was far from perfect as it was. Sam wasn't terrible, but at the moment he could only think of his worse moments. "#%@ it, I don't have time for this. Sam, you're fired. I don't care what weird things your into, but if you can't make it to work, then its a problem. Goodbye.""What!? No please!" Grace pleaded."That does seem unfair" Sarah said.He ignored both as he left.The three turned to Sam."Soooo... what now?" Aaron asked."Yes what happened Sam? How do you feel?" Sarah added."I AWWA OOOO," Sam tried, then stopped. As he had feared, his speech had been brought to next then nothing.Sarah nodded. "I...see.""Well, I'm not changing his diapers," Aaron said."Aaron shut up. Thats not important right now," Grace replied."You're just saying that because you know it will be you. And boy, with a baby that size will they ever stink!" Sam blushed."Ok, look. We have to find out whats going on," Sarah said, rubbing her head as if thinking. "Grace, you're his girlfriend. Is this... a... thing?... of his?" the question was on 'thing," she added the rest after."NO! I mean, I wish but..." she stopped blushing."WOAH so the cats out of the bag!" Aaron said."I didn't do it! Clearly its some kind of illness.""Yes I think that must be it. He got sick and it turned him into an adult baby," Sarah said."That makes fuckall sense," Aaron said. "How can an illness just suddenly make someone act like a baby? And how did it summon diapers into existence?"Sam had to agree with Aaron. This was the dumbest s%*$ he had ever encountered. What sort of reality was this?"It happens.""WHEN does it happen? HOW does it happen!?""I don't know but its clearly happened", Sarah said. "Its like one of those kink stories.""WHAT kink stories," Aaron asked. There was an awkward moment as they all blushed and avoided eye contact."Ok, look," Sarah continued. "We all know we all know that we all know what we all know. I mean, you both know what I'm talking about. This sort of thing happens, and somehow everyone involved is kind of into it.""WHAT?!" Aaron shouted.Sam stared in shock. "INTO IT!?" None of this made sense too him. "Since when the hell does this sort off thing happen in real life? This is..." he couldn't think of a word "like something from some horror writer, with a nightmarishly complex, bizarre, or illogical quality, where senseless things happen in real life, and there is no way out... there has to be a word for that.""This is all just bizzare! Its like, Kafkaesque or something!" Aaron said."Well I don't think any normal person would be stuck up enough to say that," Sarah glowered. "I think we should stop questioning this and just go with it," Grace said. "Fortunately, I happen to have spare diapers for some reason." She opened a closet door, revealing piles of pampers as she promised.'I think its incredibly suspicious that you say that, and why the HE!! do you have those?" Aaron said, and Sam completely agreed. Hopefully, Aaron would find a way to get him out of it.Both women turned and glared at Aaron. Sarah glanced at the piles of diapers, then at him."Comment revoked," Aaron said, looking down."Good, then we are all agreed. This is perfectly natural and normal, just like those stories we all read. It makes perfect sense.""Agreed," they said in unison, and Sam's heart sank.
  15. So uhm.. Hi! This is my first attempt at writing a story so uhm.. be gentle on me I guess? Also because I'm not natively English, so I know my spelling might not be pristine. It's all fictional and it's going to be super kinky, but there's also going to be a bit of a build-up of the character and setting first so I hope you can be a little patient with me. Seeing it's my first attempt I'd LOVE every form of comment, even when it's criticism. Ideas are welcome too, though I already have a pretty clear picture in mind of where this is going to go. Thanks!! --------------------------------------------------------------------------------- "(...) if you make it this easy for me to win, I'm going to assume you're trying to get into my panties." Lynn joked, brushing a long strand of brown hair to settle behind her left ear. She dropped her racket carelessly on the gravel. The impact blasted thousands of miniscule grains of the desert dry sand up into the hot summer air. Just like it had mere seconds ago, when she served an ace on the matchpoint. The beaming smile, exposing her full set of teeth, gave away her joking attitude. Perfectly alligned and the brightest of white. Nothing more than a friendly - if not somewhat arrogant - sneer towards her best friend Ashley. Who, when it came down to it, really was no competition for Lynn. It didn't dampen how victory pumped through her veins. Radiating. She was born to win and it showed. Strolling towards the bench, the brunette wiped her wristband over her forehead. Objectively a sin to remove the beads of pure sweat on her brow, glistening so perfectly in the burning sun. Her pleated tennisskirt brushed against her well-tanned legs, her shirt clinging to her body. One photo, right there and then, and the athletic girl would have broken through as a model. "(...) so see you in class, monday? Don't forget, civil law starts at 9.30 instead of 9.00 am!" And with those words defeated Ashley said her goodbyes to the girl who had it all. The win, the health, the stunning looks, the brains. The girl who had it all, but didn't feel it. The hot sun couldn't protect her against the bleak spirit that mercilessly washed over her, the second she felt her phone vibrating against her right thigh. Alone on the deserted tenniscourt, she reached under her skirt into the pocket of her tennis(booty)shorts. Staring at the screen of her iphone, tears welled up in her emerald green eyes. 'Bailiff' Admittedly, it had always been a real struggle to pay the bills. Rent, food, insurances, college tuition. And those fucking expensive study books. But lately, life was crashing down on her like a house of cards. Even with her sidejob as a waitress, debts were piling up instead of sizing down. A trembling thumb nearly cracked the screen, jabbing the red button. Twice, because the second she had hung up, the bailiff's office redialed. Always admirably persistent in shaking down debtors for their clients. Breath in, one, two, three (...) Breath out, one, two, three, four, five, six. Stay calm. Prevent hyperventilation. Two perfect frontteeth dug deep into lower lip. Muscles tensed. Panic flared. The cool evening breeze that picked up might as well have frozen her right over. Unwatched, she sunk to her knees. Sharp little gravel stones jabbed smooth, glistening skin. Every fiber in her body was ready for a heartshredding breakdown. But she held back the mental floodwave. She had to. Tingling fingers dialed. Holding her phone against it, she could feel her heartbeat in her ear. Thundering. "(...) Discrete Desires, this is mediator Jennifer, how may I help you?" The silence stretched a second too long "(...) Hello?" Lynn gulped strongly. Stress in her voice would mean an outright denial. "I've made up my mind. I'm coming in tomorrow. At noon." Another silence, this time to ponder. "(...) Lynn, is that you?" She affirmed and the lady sighed. "I've got to say, I'm rather.. hesitant to book you. You've filled in your kink-list weeks ago and booked like what.. four times now? But everytime I reserve a room here and hook you up with a matching client, you cancel at the last second. That's not good for our reputati..." The sporty girl broke in "Please. I'll be there, I PROMI (...)" Only to be interupted herself by the stern person on the other end of the line. "Look Lynn, we're proud at the intense, far-stretching services we offer here. If you're doing this due to moneytrouble, you're not welcome here. We don't misuse situations like that, everything here is one hundred percent consentual." Lynn pinched her arm hard, wanting, no needing, to sound sincere and calm. "It's not money. This is what I want." She lied "I'm just nervous about the first time, that's all." Her comment was followed by such a long silence, that she found herself almost unable to hold back a pleading cry. Finally Jennifer sighed, resolves broken. "Fine. But this is the Last time. You're not there, you're going on the blacklist. Permanently. I'm putting you in room six. Be there at noon so we can record your proof of consent video. I'll book your first session at 12.30. You'll be paid afterwards, depending on the number of customers and the length and chosen kinks of your sessions." Lynn shuddered. No way she'd do more than one session. She voiced a half-hearted thanks. "Yeahyeah.. just be there. Okay? I'm putting myself on the line here for you, and honestly only because you're drool-worthy in your photo and you're the first one with these extraordinary tastes. Which would be enormously good for bussiness... If you'd actually show up." Having finished up the conversation, the poor girl only pondered for a second what was so extraordinary about the one and only thing she had selected on the kink list, being 'vanilla sex'. Then, she pushed her beautiful body up on her feet to gather her things and walk home, with nothing but extreme self-pity on her mind.
  16. We are a little shop that has grown pretty fast in the area and online and wanted to reach out to more locals and make sure you all know about us. After talking with many people we have come to realize that many don't have the luxery of experiencing premium diapers or able to get their hands on accessories that they have been wanting for awile. So we originally decided to buy some bulk and sell at just enough to help other out and also help our own needs but it quickly grew to larger orders and more requests for stuff we didn't have. So we took the jump and have got a lot of stuff here now. So if your into supporting small local business let us know what we can do for you. And if your not local we still ship all over the world. And even offer super obvious non discrete shipping for all you humiliation cravers or mommies and daddies sending packages to their little ones and want to have some fun. Here is a quick list of a few things we offer. abdl printed diapers plain premium diapers adult pacifiers pacifier clips silicone pocket bibs onsies chastity cages a few other adult items to Adult sized pacifier pals ( stuffed animals attached to pacifiers)
  17. “Okay Aisling, it’s your turn. Tell us a little bit about yourself.” “Ahem” I cleared my throat to buy a little time, I wasn’t expecting to have to talk so soon into the meeting. Well…Geronimo! “Hi! My name is Aisling, my friends call me Ais. I am 27 years old. This is my first support group meeting. Like you all I am incontinent, so, also like you all I wear diapers to manage my condition. I am not from around here, if you can’t already tell by my accent. Uhhh…Yeah…I like sappy movies, country music, and whiskey.” I wrap up my little introductory spiel, and look to the girl sitting next me, she does not speak next. I guess she is a veteran. I hear the leader speak, and the rest of the group echo back his words. “Thank-you for sharing, Aisling.” The group moves along to the other new members, I pay attention but just as quickly as I hear the names of the people they are gone. Us Irelanders my have the gift of the gab, but this one has an added talent. The gift of the bullshit. I can avoid using someone’s name in any conversation. I will know their face, but their name will escape me. It is a double-edged sword. Anyhow like you heard: My name is Aisling, I am 27, and I am incontinent. What I didn’t tell the group is that I chose to be this way. I chose to wear and use diapers. Ever since I was little I have been attracted to diapers. This is my story: I first really remember wanting to wear diapers again at age 9. I mean let’s face it, who among us really remember their formative years. You might get the occasional glimpse of a memory from your younger years, but for all intents and purposes you are remembering the stories people have told you about you. You don’t really remember your young childhood. I remember it was rainy, I was watching the T.V. I don’t recall what. What I do recall is that a commercial came on for adult incontinence pants. I was transfixed. They made diapers for grown-ups!? Where, when, how can I get my hands on these. Like I said, I was hooked. It was all I thought about. I mean I was still functioning, I went to school, did my class-work, played with my friends, went to church, etc. ad nauseum. It was always there though, in the back of my mind. I dreamt about it, thought about. I almost asked about it once, but my Mum was busy and I lost my nerve. Fast forward until I was 12 years old. I have been thinking about diapers more and more often. It was like an itch I couldn’t scratch. I had to know. I schemed, and plotted. Eventually I came up with a foolproof plan. I would simply start wetting the bed again, eventually I would get what I wanted. Out of sheer necessity I would get diapers again. So, I began. At first it was really hard. Have you ever tried peeing laying down, it is tough! But I persevered, I would leak a bit into my jammies and then bolt as loudly as I could to the loo. Hopefully waking my Mum in the process. It took two weeks of that until she noticed. “Ais? Can you come here for a moment, I need to ask you something?” I was watching T.V. this had better be good. I came around the corner and saw her holding a pair of my pyjamas. THIS WAS IT! The crucial moment, the fulcrum. It all came down to how I handled myself right now. I started walking over to her, she was holding my jammies in front of her. “Yes Mum?” “Sweetie-pie, I was just going through your clothes and I noticed that all your pj’s smell like pee. Is there something you want to tell me?” I started to fidget and I looked at my feet. This was more for me than her, I was nervous as heck. “Yes” I said this very quietly. “What is it baby” “Mummy…” I broke down into tears. And I buried my face into her stomach, and gave her a hug. This had the added effect of buying me time as well as catching her totally off-guard. I am not a huggy person. “Ohmygoodness, sweetie! What is it?” “Sniff. I have been having accidents Mum.” “What do you mean?” There was no scolding in her voice, just concern. She was buying it. “When I am sleeping. I keep having these weird scary dreams, I wake up and I really, really hafta go to the loo. I don’t always make it though. Sometimes it has already started before I am up.” “Oh?” She replied. “Anything else?” “No” Once again I said this really quietly. “Okay then sugar, if this keeps up though I am going to take you to a doctor, it is not normal for girls your age to start wetting the bed again.” Not normal? Give me a break, Mum. I just want to wear diapers. If it was not normal, do you think that there would be T.V. commercials for it? “Okay Mum. Can I go back to the T.V. now?” “Yes, you CAN go back.” Opps, it has always been one of her pet-peeves. The difference between “Can I” and “May I”. I rephrase. “May I go back to the T.V.?” “Yes you may honey. Thank you for being honest with me, I know that it is hard to talk about things like this. You shouldn’t be embarrassed.” “Okay Mum, thanks!” I went back to the T.V. I thought to myself, “That did not go as planned, where are my diapers?” I guess that this is going to be the long-con. Time to get to work. I kept up the partial wettings sporadically at night, keeping myself awake and then peeing a little and going back to sleep. And another week passed of me not sleeping all the way though the night. I heard her voice again. “Ais? Can you come here for a moment?” Round two, I think to myself. “Mum I am doing my maths, can it wait until I am done?” “No, it can’t.” “Coming then!” I shout back. I go into the living room where she is once again holding my pj’s “Ais, these still smell like pee, are you still having accidents?” “Yes. But if I don’t go to sleep I don’t pee the bed, so it’s okay Mum, we don’t need to see a doctor.” “You mean to tell me that you have been not sleeping at night so you wouldn’t pee?” “Yes Mum. Sometimes I make it, but sometimes I don’t then I wake up wet.” “Honey! That’s not healthy for you! You should have told me you were still having issues.” “Sorry.” “It’s not your fault baby, stay right there I am going to phone the doctor, we are going to get this sorted out.” So, I waited, the doctor, bugger. How am I going to fool him? She returned a couple of minutes later, and sat down next to me. “Okay. I phoned the doctor to make an appointment. The soonest he can see you is in two weeks. In the meantime, so you can get some sleep, he recommended that you wear ‘protection’ to bed. Do you know what he means?” Of course, I did, I was not an idiot. The commercials on T.V. had said that they ‘protect’ you from any embarrassing leaks. She was talking about DIAPERS! I had to play dumb though. So, I shook my head “No”. “Well Ais, what he said to me is that it is not uncommon for people your age to wet the bed, so there are special products you can wear that are just like underwear that keep you from wetting the bed. Let’s go to the store okay?” “Okay Mum, but first can I finish my maths, I am almost done.” “Sure, thing kiddo.” I finished my homework, and we were off to the store. We walked down the holy of holies. The diaper aisle. I was in heaven. I always avoided this place when we shopped together, for fear of staring. Now we were here! Mum pushed the trolley and I followed behind her, staring at the shelves. “Mum?” “Yes dear?” “Why are we in the diaper aisle? I am going to be wearing diapers?” I tried the hide the excitement in my voice. By masking it with uncertainty. I think I succeeded. “No Ais, not diapers. Protection, for big kids. Not diapers.” She really stressed that they were not diapers, if not diapers what were we getting then? “Ahhh, here they are. I think you are a size “L”. Lets get one pack and see how it goes okay?” “Okay Mum.” We finished the rest of our shopping, and went to the checkout. The clerk who scanned us up gave no sign that the ‘protection’ was anything unusual. Maybe it was common. I would hate to be common! We got home and put away all of the groceries, except for one. My new ‘protection’. I was so excited to try them on, but I couldn’t let on to it. She had to tell me. The day progressed, we ate dinner, she did the washing-up. I helped. Bath time was next. Bedtime was approaching fast. Finally! The magic hour had arrived. “Ais, lets get you into this thing and off to bed okay, I bet you are really tired.” “Yeah, I am Mum.” “Okay, start by taking off your towel.” I did that, heart pounding through my chest, in excitement. I saw her open up the bag, and take out a pink object. “Can you come over to me hon? I need you to step into these for me.” I walked over to her, and raised my left leg and put it in the hole, then my right. She started pulling them up my legs. These weren’t diapers! They were pull-ups! I felt ridiculously cheated. I could not let my disappointment show. She finished pulling them into place. Satisfied with her work she got my pj bottoms out and had me step into them, covering this thing. This non-diaper imposter around my waist. “Okay, you are set for bed. Sleep well honey.” “I will Mum.” Little did she know I would not. A week went by with me wetting the ‘protection’ nightly. I was getting pretty good at this now. I could pee laying down and without having to concentrate so hard at it. I would also say a mantra in my head before falling asleep: “It’s okay to wet your bed. It’s okay to wet your bed. It’s okay to wet your bed…”. By the middle of the second week I was wetting through the ‘protection’. Mum said they were called Drynites. They were anything but for me. I was wetting through them and once again my pj’s smelled like pee. I told her I was leaking, and getting wet at night. She had no good answer and told me as much. Finally, the day came to see the Doctor. I loaded up into the car and we were off. We got to the offices and I had a seat in the waiting room, while Mum checked us in. it wasn’t long and we were shown into the exam room. The Doctor appeared, make the introductions, and got down to business. “So Aisling, what a pretty name, I hear you have been having accidents at night care to tell me about it?” So I did, I told him the fib I told my Mum. Mum confirmed my story and said although we were following his advice I was leaking through the Drynites and was still waking up in a wet bed. The Doctor looked puzzled, but not worried. He explained that: “With the onset of puberty some girls can develop ‘nocturnal enuresis’, commonly referred to as bedwetting. Generally, it sorts itself out in due course. I would like to run some tests though to exclude any infections and such, but I am not too concerned at this point. To that end, Aisling, if you would be a dear and urinate into this cup in the bathroom over there.” I did and when I re-entered the exam room things were just as they were before. “But” he continued “The fact that she is wetting though the Drynites is cause for concern. Not medical concern, just concern for her general wellbeing. I would suggest a more absorbent product, geared towards heavier wetting episodes.” My Mum looked worried and confused. “What do you mean Doctor?” “Ms. O’Byrne, I am simply referring to a more specialized product, not found in grocery stores, but rather at medical supply stores and the like. I can recommend a good one not too far from here.” My Mum looked aghast she knew what he meant. And I knew what they were talking about, and I was excited about it. I had to hold it in though. Must not look happy. “Are you sure Doctor? D-I-A-P-E-R-S? For a girl, her age?” “Ma’am, it is my considered opinion that your daughter Aisling would benefit from greater protection at night. This is the only way to ensure that that happens.” He then looked and spoke to me. “Aisling? Are you sleeping well at night?” I shook my head “No” That was true. But only because I was staying awake to wet. “Are you tired at school and at home?” “Yes.” I said that very quietly. Truth be known I was very tired. “That settles it then. Your daughter is not getting enough rest at night, this is a solution that will help with that. Kids need sleep. End of story in my books. If you want what is best for her health and wellbeing it should be the end of story in yours too.” My Mum, still didn’t look happy about it. Diapers for a 12-year-old? The Doctor sensing my Mums conflict asked me to step outside for a moment so he could have a private chat with her. I don’t know what they said, but when my Mum exited the room she thanked the Doctor and we were on our way. We got back to the car and headed out. But not home. I suspected where we were going, but I wasn’t sure. We arrived at a non-descript building, with lots of handicapped parking spaces. Mum got out of the car. I followed. We entered the store, and Mum made a bee-line for the service desk. The clerk looked up and asked: “What can I do for you today Ms.?” My Mum replied, “I was recommended your store by Dr. Danielson, I am looking for some…” She dug around in her handbag for the note. “Youth incontinence briefs, size small, poly backed.” She read that ad verbatim from the note. “Okay, that is no problem at all, do you know what brand you would like?” My Mum looked flabbergasted, there was more than one? I however was in heaven. There was more than one! “Um…whichever is the most absorbent.” “Sure thing, that would be these right here, they are a new item from BetterDry. Specially sized and designed for youth. May I presume that the youth in question is you young lady?” She asked while looking at me. I looked at the floor, continuing the charade. “Yes” “Well these are going to be perfect for you, now you can go about your day and not have to worry about leaks! May I recommend some PVC overcovers for added security? They really help keep in odours so others won’t know what you have done in your diaper. That’s a secret between you, your diaper, and your Mum. Aren’t you lucky to be getting these?” He finished that little speech of his with an exaggerated wink. I felt I had to play the part here. Therefore, I shouted: “They are ONLY for nighttime! I am fine during the day!” The clerk looked abashed. “Sorry there little miss. I just made an assumption.” My Mum was shocked. She paid for the diapers and we were off home again. When we got into the car, she broke down into a fit of laughter. I looked at her strangely. After she was done, she reached over and gave me a big hug, and said, “That was the cutest thing I thing I have ever seen! You were so mad! And rightly so. This is a private matter, what we need them for is none of her business. Even so though, so, so cute.” We drove home, got pizza, and soon enough it was time for bed. Mum approached me, bag in hand. “Sweetie, it is time to get ready. Can you help me?” “Sure Mum, what do you need?” “I need you to get undressed for me and lie down on this towel, okay?” “Okay, but why do I need to lay down, aren’t these step in and pull up like the other ones?” “No sweetie, they are a little more complicated than that. If you would like I can explain all the steps while I do them. Would you like that?” “Yes please.” If only she knew how much. “Then lay down over here please, and let me get started.” I did as she asked and lay down. Once again, my heart was pumping through my chest, finally diapers! “The first thing I am going to do is unfold the brief. Next I need you to raise your bum off the towel.” I did, and she slipped the first of many diapers under me. “You can lower again.” I dropped my bum and felt I the diaper. It felt wonderful, soft and warm. It felt right. “Next I am going to use this cream to protect your skin against wetness. It is going to feel weird , but I need to get it in the right places.” She creamed me, it smelled good, and felt good. “After that I am going to take this powder and sprinkle a little bit all over you. It helps keep wetness away from your skin. Like the cream.” I felt a cooling sensation, and I smelled a smell I immediately loved. A smell I still love. “Now it is time for me to do up the brief.” I felt the front get pulled tightly up against me and rest on my stomach. “Then the tapes. They have to be tight or else you will leak, and this whole thing will be a waste of effort. Tell me if it feels okay, okay?” “I will Mum.” I heard a gentle ripping noise, and felt the bottom left get tighter, then the bottom right. After that I felt the top left get pulled tight. Finally, the top right. “Everything done. I am surprised how easy that was, I thought I would have lost the knack of it, but it came right back. How does it feel?” I sat up and examined the white bundle between my legs. I shuffled, and squirmed. As I did the diaper made rather loud crinkling noises. I did not expect that. Nor did I expect the feeling of fullness between my legs. It felt nice. It felt safe. It was right. I told her as much. “It feels okay Mum. Kinda thick”. I got up and went for a test waddle/walk. “I feel like a duck.” I was not altogether unhappy about that. I loved this. She smiled at me. “It has to be thick Ais, or else where is all the pee going to go? The Drynites were for small accidents. This is for bigger ones. That is the only difference. Now off to bed with you.” “Yes Mum.” I crinkled and waddled my way to my bedroom. I closed the door, and lay down on my bed. I smiled the biggest smile, I think I have ever smiled. Finally! I got diapers. I said my mantra in my head: “It’s okay to wet your bed. It’s okay to wet your bed. It’s okay to wet your bed…”. I drifted off to sleep with those thoughts. I only woke up once briefly, and it was to pee. I did, and I went back to sleep. I got up in the morning, and a felt a ponderous weight around my waist. Then I remembered, I was wearing a diaper. I looked at it, it was yellowed and discoloured. I looked at my bed. Dry! Now to keep the diapers. I went down the hall into the kitchen, my Mum was already up. She was worshipping her coffee cup. She perked up when she saw me, and asked. “So, how was the night?” I felt I really had to sell the diapers at this point. So, I did. “It. Was. Great! I slept all the way through, no wetness. I think I am dry even!” I knew I was not, but I couldn’t let her know that. “Really? You’re dry? Let’s have a look.” She walked over to me and poked at the back of my diaper. “Ais, you are not dry. You are very wet. But the bed is dry?” “Yeah, I know.” “What do you mean you know?” So I explained, “When I woke up the diaper felt different, I figured I wet last night. But the bed is dry. And I slept. I love this, I am not tired, I don’t smell. In my books this is okay.” My Mum looked so sad. “Why didn’t you tell me it was this bad Ais? If you are this happy to having slept, how long has this been happening. Really?” I lied. “About three months now.” She was shocked. “How did you keep this hidden for so long?” So, I explained again. “I would wait until you had wash on, then I would sneak my jammies out of their hiding spot and put them in. You never noticed that you were doing the extra wash. And I made sure to keep switching out jammies so you wouldn’t get suspicious.” She was still shocked. “You are a very smart little girl. I think you deserve a special breakfast, how about waffles?” “Yes please!” While we ate, I wet again, not much, but enough to know that I liked it. The diaper, MY diaper absorbed it all, with Mum being non-the-wiser. I knew what I had to do next. The week progressed as usual, save for the fact that I was getting diapered nightly. But I suppose that was usual, so nothing exciting happened. The test came back negative for any infections. Which was a relief to Mum, it confirmed in her mind the Doctors hypothesis. This was only temporary. The weeks turned to months, turned years. I was now 15 years old, the single packages of diapers picked up on the fly became a standing order of cases. I went to school, I did well. I did not go to any sleepovers. I was now wetting the bed in earnest, and I could not have been happier. It was time for phase two. I opened the door to the house and bolted into the lav. Mum hearing the commotion came running. She knocked. “You okay in there?” I replied, in tears. “No” “Ais. What’s wrong!?” “Go Away!” “Ais!?” “Go Away!” “Aisling Maeve O’Byrne! If you don’t tell me what’s wrong I am coming in there, and you are going to have some serious explaining to do young lady!” “I pooed my knickers Mum!” I was hysterical, it was a well practiced cry. “Come again?” “I. Pooed. In. My. Knickers!!” “Oh…well then, how about opening the door and we take a look at the damage? Okay?” “Sure, just don’t laugh. All the kids on the bus laughed at me.” Actually, that part was true. I had to spread the seed of it. Teenagers love telling others, and teachers listen to those tales, and report them to back to parents. I opened the door and Mum saw the wetness down my legs and the smell coming off of me, the look of compassion she gave me almost made me want to tell her the truth. But only almost. “Oh, no. Baby. I am so sorry that you had to go through that. Come here.” She wrapped me up in a tight hug. I am not a huggy person, but even I wanted one after embarrassing myself intentionally to my peers. “Mum” My voice was muffled by her body. She released her hug, and held me at arms length. “Yes?” I looked at the ground. “This isn’t the first time.” That’s all I had to say. I watched her mind drop into high gear. Filling in the rest of the blanks. “Yeah…I have been wearing my Drynites to school. I started to wet myself a little bit during P.E. Then it got worse sneezing, laughing, coughing all made me leak. Until I couldn’t control it at all. I was wearing the Drynites so you wouldn’t have to worry about me. I have been buying them for a couple of months now” “Honey. I am your Mum. It is my job to worry about you. How long has this been happening?” “The leaking has been going on for about a year now. This is not the first time I have pooed either.” “What!?” “Yeah. It is just that this is the first time it has happened so badly. Normally it is just a little bit, I just lower the pull-up and grab it with some paper.” “I am taking you to the Doctor. Right now! No. Not right now. Let’s get you cleaned up first.” “Can you take my clothes. I need a shower.” “Sure thing Ais, whatever you need.” I stripped off my shirt and jeans. To reveal the very well used Drynite beneath. I blushed. It was an unconscious, if useful reaction. I handed Mum my clothes, and she handed me a bin bag. I figured it was for the soiled Drynite. I closed the door to the loo. I looked at myself in the mirror, and I asked myself. “Self, is this worth it?” I answered “Yes”. I pulled off the soiled pull-up and placed in the bin bag, and left that by the door. I hopped in the shower and proceeded to clean myself. Paying particular attention to the area I would forevermore refer to as my diaper area. Getting out of the shower I toweled myself dry. I grabbed the bin bag as I left the loo. I placed the bag on the floor by the door and headed upstairs to get dressed. Mum met me on my way up the stairs. “Feeling better then?” “Yes. Much. I am just on my way to get dressed and we can go. Does that sound good to you?” “Sounds fine pumpkin. One thing, seeing as you have been leaking during the day too. Don’t you think it wise that you took the precaution and wore one of your night diapers to the doctor. As a just in case measure?” My heart did a flip, and stopped beating for a moment. When it started again I answered. “Actually Mum, I was going to suggest the same thing. It will be so nice not having to worry about leaking for a change.” I am rather excited about this prospect. Day diapers! She looked at me with pity, and said: “I am glad we are on the same page Ais. I would have hated to make the suggestion only for you to fight me on it.” I smiled at her and thought, “If only you knew.” I went to my room and got my supplies together. I am still changing on the floor, at least I have a dedicated mat for it. If all things go to plan I will get a proper changing table sooner rather than not. I diapered myself and put on leggings and a skirt. Being in a proper diaper in the daytime. I finally felt whole, I finally felt like me. Normally I don’t really walk around in diapers, it is a quick tape up and into bed. But since I am wearing a diaper out I wanted to see how it felt. I waddle/walked in a circle in my room. Just like I thought, crinkling all the way. How lovely. I went down the stairs and met Mum. We got into the car and went to the Doctor. She explained that although we did not have an appointment, any time the Doctor could spare us was needed. We were told to wait. It was a long wait. I wet myself twice during the time. Nobody save me knew. Finally, we were told that he could see us. We went into the exam room. The Doctor entered. “So…” He looked at the chart “Aisling, I hear you have been having daytime control issues as well as continued nocturnal issues. Care to elaborate?” I told him everything I had practiced in my mind. Some were lies, others only half-truths. Regardless he was starting to look concerned. He said as much. “This is highly unusual. I am going to recommend a battery of tests. Also, I think you should see a Urologist and a Proctologist to rule out any structural abnormities. Furthermore, this is probably not the greatest thing for a teenager to be dealing with, therefore, I am prescribing that you see a Psychiatrist until a conclusion is reached regarding your specific concerns. Sound good?” He really didn’t give us much choice, I agreed. So, did Mum. He continued. “Until this is all sorted, what measures have you taken to mitigate the problem?” I answered: “Well Doc. I have been wearing my old Drynites to school, but they are no longer cutting it. I am barely able to tell when I am going anymore. Also they don’t really contain my messy accidents all that well. Why? Do you have a suggestion?” Mum’s head snapped in my direction. I didn’t tell her that lie, the lie about how often I was messing. I needed another party present before I could trot that one out. “As a matter of fact, I do. You wear adult briefs to bed correct?” “I do” “Excellent! Then it will be a simple matter to transfer your strictly nocturnal undergarment to fulltime wear.” I was ecstatic! Here was a doctor telling me to wear diapers during the day. Everything was falling into place. My Mum piped up at this point. “In fact, Doctor, she is wearing one right now.” “Is she indeed, do you mind if I take a look?” This question was asked to both me and my Mum. We both shook our heads: “No, I don’t mind”. “No time like the present then. May I?” “Sure thing” I hopped off the exam table, and started to lower my leggings. After that I started to raise my skirt, it was the moment of truth. The doctor saw that I was wet. Mum did too. She asked the question first. “Ais? Did you know you were wet?” The Doctor nodded confirming the question. His pen poised to take notes. I answered: “Uhhhh… what are you talking about. I haven’t peed yet.” They both shot me looks of pity. “Actually Miss O’Byrne, that brief has indeed been wet. More than once if I am any gauge.” My Mum nodded her confirmation, I could see her sadness. All I could say is “Oh.” I tentatively touched the front of my diaper, and feeling the squishiness I racked a sob. My Mum swooped in and gave me another hug, she said. “Shh…shhh…It’s gong to be okay dear…shhhh.” I stopped crying, but my eyes were still watering. The doctor saw all of this and took notes. He started to talk again. “Welllll… seeing as there is nothing I can do here. I have made my suggestions and recommendations. All I can say is that you act quick, this looks to be rather serious.” I nodded my ascent. I pulled my leggings up and put my skirt down. Concealing my diaper. We left the office rather quietly, save for my gentle crinkling. What could be said by anybody? On the drive home, I felt the need to pee. So, I peed. It felt good. It felt right. It felt normal. We got home, and I said to Mum. “I am going to bed, g’night Mum.” “Goodnight baby, sleep well.” I waddled up the stairs to my room. Closing the door, I laid down on the changing mat, and proceeded to ball. Not out of sadness, but out of regret. Regret for having to deceive my Mum. To deceive in order to achieve. After crying myself out, I changed my diaper. Got into bed and fell asleep. Of course, I wet myself. I was after all a bedwetter. I woke up in the morning to a wet diaper, nothing new there. The only new thing is that instead of knickers I got to put on another diaper. What a great feeling! I re-diapered myself and started to get dressed for the day. My trousers didn’t really fit all that well. It was pretty clear that there was something going on under them, that something being a diaper. I smiled to myself thinking of the shopping that I could do. I settled for a knee length skirt and leggings, again. What can I say? It is an outfit that works. I got into the kitchen and made a bowel of cereal for breakfast. Mum entered shortly after. “What are you doing?” She asked. “Eating Breakfast.” “Why?” “Because I have school. Duh. It is a Thrusday.” “Oh, I was going to call you in sick for the rest of the week. Give it some time to ease off. I know how kids can be.” “Don’t do that Mum. That just lets the rumour mill run un-checked. If I show up today I can come up with a reason. Like a UTI or something to explain it away.” “If I have said it once, I have said it a thousand times. You are a very smart little girl. Sorry, young lay.” “Thanks, Mum!” I give her a kiss on the cheek and I grab two bags from the foot of the stairs. One is my books, the other contains my fresh diapers. I am going to have to get used to carrying a diaper bag I hope. I leave the house and start my waddle/walk to the bus stop. School as you can imagine, sucked. The kids were merciless. I got called to the heads office as soon as first period had begun. I had to explain the situation, to him. Yes, I am wearing diapers. No, I don’t know if it is going to be permanent (I hope that it is). Yes, I need a place to put my extras. So, I went on a merry excursion to the nurses office. I handed her the note that the head had written for me. She read it, and said: “You can put your things over there in the empty cubby. If you need any help I will be at my desk. Please don’t hesitate to ask if you need it, I am a trained professional.” I thanked her and I said that I would if I needed. After lunch, I went back to her office. Knocking on the door. I heard: “Come in.” So, I did. She did not look surprised to see me, actually she looked rather glad. I think she is really bored. “Need a change?” She asked. I nodded my affirmation. “Need any help?” I was torn, only my Mum had ever helped me and only at night. I took a leap. “Please, that would be great.” “Sure thing, lay down on the table I will take care of everything.” True to her word, she did. It was the fasted, most professional diaper change ever given. I was un-taped, wiped, creamed, powdered and re-taped before you could say “Boo”. She pulled up my leggings, I put down my skirt. Wow. That was fast. “Thank-you Ms….?” “Oh you can call me Abigail, or Gail. It was nice to meet you. Eh-Sling.” “Actually, it is pronounced: Aeeshling.” I am used to having to correct people regarding my name. “Sorry, dear. I will try to remember, I am horrid with names.” “That’s okay. I am too!” We both smile, and exchange knowing looks. The looks that say, I know your name now, but come tomorrow, you will be a familiar blank. School ends and I get home. I am very wet, having opted out of a change I figured I could wait until I got home. I was right, I didn’t leak. I open the door, head upstairs to take care of pressing business. There is a new item of furniture in my room. I new what it was; from the online searching I had done: It was an adult diaper pail, I played dumb. “Mum!” “Yes?” “What is this?” “What is what?” “This can thing in my room!” “That’s your new diaper pail. If you are going to be wearing diapers for a while, I thought it would be a good idea, cuts down on odour.” I am so excited! I have an adult diaper pail! Must not sound too pleased. I answer in a monotone: “Oh, alright then. I guess that makes sense.” Days turn into weeks. I have just seen the shrink for the first time. Straight off I asked him: “Is everything I say confidential between you and me? Or do you have to tell my Mum?” He replies: “Whatever you choose to tell me stays in this room, provided that it is not against the law, nor does harm to yourself or others.” Having heard that. I spill. I tell him everything. How I have always wanted diapers, how I got my first diapers, how I kept them. How I got them in the daytime. How I am going to keep them in the daytime. Exhausted, I finish my tale. “That is some story Ais, from what you have just told me it looks to me like your mental wellbeing has been fixated upon diapers for so long they are an emotional need for you. You need diapers. Maybe not physically, but mentally to help you cope. We will keep talking. This has been a very, very informative first session.” “Thank-you Doctor.” “If it makes you feel any more comfortable please call me Ben” “Thank-you Ben.” “You are welcome Ais.” I leave his office ten thousand pounds lighter. As expected the Urologist and Proctologist found no physical reason to explain my developing incontinence. I was therefore referred to a Neurologist, just to rule out anything really nasty, MS for instance. That was a waste of NHS funds, nothing there. My sessions with Ben have been going very well. Also on the plus side I have continued to wear and use diapers for the last several months. I now know that this is the life for me. Weeks turn into months, and months turn into years. I have been meeting with Ben every week for the past 5 years. Diapered full-time the whole time. My Mum has since adjusted, her daughter needs diapers. I finally have an adult sized change table in my room. This is my last session with Ben, never once has he recriminated me for the diapers. Leaks on his furniture, bad smells in his air. It doesn’t seem to faze him. I love him for that. After the first several months he made the official recommendation that I remain diapered at all times, it was clear it was what made me happy. My Mum noticed a change in me, my friends at school noticed a change in me. I finally felt like who I was meant to be. But it was time to move on to greener pastures. I was moving out, moving up. Actually West. A long ways West. Canada West. There was an opining for a nurse in a public (In the colonies they say private) school. Having finished by degrees early, I was now a fully qualified nurse practitioner (not needing a bathroom has some advantages), I accepted the position. My Mum was sad to see me go, ever the traditionalist, she held a living wake for me. It was eerie, all the sadness, and the black. I am a single flight away woman! So, I went. I took the job started to set down roots. And that is where you met me. “Hi! My name is Aisling, my friends call me Ais. I am 27 years old. This is my first support group meeting. Like you all I am incontinent…” The meeting ended, and we all broke down our chairs and stacked them up. It was a real treat to see this many adults in one room wearing diapers. The girl who was sitting next to me walks up and says. “Hi, I am Emily. I just want to say, thanks for being brave enough to come out and meet up. It is not many people our age who are comfortable enough with themselves to sit with a group of strangers and say ‘My name is (blank) and I wear diapers’. Kudos to you for your courage.” I smile at her, and reply. “Well, it has been an interesting couple of weeks for me let me tell you, new flat, new city, new country, and most important of all new places to source diapers. I have been having a hard time finding a store with any kind of selection. Do you have any tips?” “What do you mean?” “Well Tena pads and underwear are fine for some, but I need- how do I put this delicately- more substantial protection.” I give her my best knowing look. “Oh…Ohhhh…Ohhhhh! I see what you mean. Most of us just have minor leakage issues, but if I am picking up what you are putting down, you have no control at all.” “That’s it exactly!” “Well I know of one store that might help you. It is not too far of a drive, only a couple of hundred klicks away, just in Waterloo.” She said that like it was nothing. A couple of hundred Kms? That was a long way to an Irish Lass. I said as much. “That is a really long way away!” “No, that’s nothing. I grew up in British Columbia and I drive back every summer. That is a long way 3000 Kms.” I looked at her aghast. 3000 Kms? Holy Moley. So, I trotted out an old Irish saying. “To the Canadians, a hundred years is a long, long time. To the Irish, a hundred kilometres is a long, long way”. I looked at her and smiled sweetly. “See it is all a matter of perspective.” “Smart-ass.” “Diapered ass, actually.” We both laugh at that. I feel myself wet. I am nearing capacity. I must have had a look of distraction on my face because Emily said to me. “Looking for a place to change?” I couldn’t lie, I was done with that. “Yes”. “Come on, my place isn’t far. I take it you have your diaper bag?” “Yes, always” in this new country it was my only friend. Besides Fetlife, and Facebook. “Good, my needs aren’t quiet as severe as yours, I make do with pull-ups. I don’t think that they would cut it for you as a loan” “Really? I couldn’t stand them when I was using those. Always leaking, not substantial enough for my tastes”. “Oh?” “Yeah, but I was out of pull-ups at 15 so my views may be a little foggy with time. I am sure they make them better now.” We walked in as much silence as two diapered women can. Arriving at her flat she let me in. It was immediate, I felt my diaper begin to leak. “Shit, and Bugger, and DamnitalltoHell!” “What’s wrong Aisling?” “I am leaking” “Oh, don’t worry about that, come on, I’ll show you my sanctum sanctorum.” I followed her, walking as gingerly as I could. I felt the wetness trickle down my leg. She opened a door, and revealed a loo. Or at least it looked like one. Upon closer inspection, I noticed that it lacked one key feature common to most loos. There was no toilet. I guess this was her bathroom. She motioned to the change table and closed the door behind her. I undid my now wet trousers and tossed them aside to get stuffed into the wet bag later. My diaper was toast. I mean saturated. Having worn them for so long I hardly notice wettings. I am aware that I am peeing only when I let out an involuntary dribble into a fresh diaper, or when I feel my diaper warm. But I leak constantly, so my diaper is always damp and warm, and therefore I seldom notice. Thanks, be to God I was not messy, I barely notice those either, only when I sit in it or feel it squish do I know for certain. I wear diaper covers to help partially mask the odours associated with that aspect of my incontinence. That overly enthusiastic clerk all those years ago, was right. They helped keep what I did in my diapers a secret between me and them, for the most part. I would have hated to stink up her place on my first time here. I begun wiping up the urine soaked lotion and powder that coated my diaper area. I move next to my bum, making sure it is clean. After being in diapers for the last 12 years I am accustomed to diaper rashes. They come with the territory. But I do everything I can to avoid them. I finish cleaning myself and begin to prepare my new diaper, still sitting on my old one. I can no longer not be in or at least on a diaper. I have learned from experience to keep tape in my diaper bag to give the tapes an ‘assist” (use a hockey term, why not I am in Canada now Eh.). I unfold my fresh diaper and place it under me, only then moving off the used one. I am never not protected. Like I said, I leak constantly. I grab the Vaseline and begin to spread it all over the required areas. I next take the powder and puff it where it needs to go. Taking a wipe, I clean my hands. I tape myself in to my new, clean, dry private toilet for the next couple of hours. I dig out my spare trousers, pull them up and I am good to go! The crotch of my pants bulges a bit. Not too noticeable unless you were staring at it. I don’t really care if my crotch bulges a bit or you do stare. I am wearing a diaper, I need them. What is your hang-up, why you perving out on me? I leave her bathroom, and I see her relaxing on the couch. I sit down next to her. “Mind if I join you?” “Not at all. I welcome it” “Thanks” “Pleasure” We sit in silence for some time, not an awkward silence, but the kind where there is nothing that needs to be said. She breaks it. “So…you said substantial protection, how substantial? I mean, are you aware?” I am a little taken aback by the directness of her query, but I was warned that people in North American are just that direct. I do her the courtesy of a direct answer. “Do you want the short or the long answer?” “Let’s start short, and maybe go long.” “Short Answer: Very substantial, I am completely unaware or either function.” To illustrate my point I stand up and un-button my trousers to show her my diaper, it is already a little wet I can see. I pull them back up. She notices the bulge. “Oh. My. God! You can totally tell, you are wearing a diaper! Aren’t you a little embarrassed that someone will say something? “Not really, I mean if they do, they are perving out on me by staring at my kitty. It just so happens that it is covered by a diaper. They are gross for doing it, if I notice them staring I will say so.” “Okay, well you are brave. Most people are embarrassed by their need for diapers, me included, and I only wear pullups during the day! You just changed, right? It looked to me like your diaper was already damp, am I wrong?” I give it an experimental poke. Affirmative, wet and getting wetter as per the norm. Unconsciously I check the rear for mess. None yet. “Did you just check yourself for wetness?” “Yes, and in case you were wondering, no surprise poops either.” “Wow, you really weren’t kidding about the needing substantial protection.” “No. No I was not.” “Let me get you a glass of something. Whiskey, was it? I want to hear the long version now.” As I sit thinking about how I am going to tell it, she returns with my tumbler. I decide to go for it, tell her the truth. “Okay, but promise not to judge.” “I’ll do my best.” “I first really remember wanting to wear diapers again at age 9. I mean let’s face it, who among us really remember their formative years. You might get the occasional glimpse of a memory from your younger years, but for all intents and purposes you are remembering the stories people have told you about you. You don’t really remember your young childhood. I remember it was rainy, I was watching the T.V. I don’t recall what. What I do recall is that a commercial came on for adult incontinence pants. I was transfixed. They made diapers for grown-ups!? Where, when how can I get my hands on these. Like I said, I was hooked. It was all I thought about. I mean I was still functioning, I went to school, did my class-work, played with my friends, went to church, etc. ad nauseum. It was always there though, in the back of my mind. I dreamt about it, thought about. I almost asked about it once, but my Mum was busy and I lost my nerve….” We Irish, born storytellers
  18. hi there am a 20 year old male looking for a female with the same interest would love to talk and maybe meet one sometime?:)
  19. Alex struggled helplessly in his binds. Stuck in a diaper and dress, gagged with an oversized pacifier, and with a bright red ribbon wrapped around, he could do nothing but wait. He supposed that was what he was a Christmas present for someone. The only question was for whom. It was a question that had haunted him since the day he arrived at the training institute. Like everyone, he knew there was someone paying for him. Like most, he had no idea who they were, when he’d see them, or what they intended to use him for. There were several reasons someone could end up in the institute. A scant few were volunteers- people choosing the submissive lifestyle, often for a kink, or out sheer laziness, giving up freedom to be guaranteed food and shelter rather then work their entire lives and risk homelessness. This, in Alex’s opinion, was a poor trade and a worse excuse for a career. Others seemed to think they eventually be guaranteed a place their anyway, and so volunteered. The advantage there was that they could at least pick the manner of their submissiveness, and have some control over who their eventual master was. Had Alex known that would be necessary for him, he’d have taken that route. He shifted uncomfortably in his binds, his arms getting stiff, and his diaper beginning to chaff his spanked bottom. He definitely would have. Alex, for himself, was one of the many who had been chosen against their will. Some of them had obvious reasons for going. They had committed clear crimes, were put on trial, and plea-bargained out of jail or were sentenced directly. They stood out at first in the first days at the institute. Trying to look tough, with tattoos on their arms and glares on their faces, until they realized this just made them all the more ridiculous. Alex was in a final category- those who had no idea at all why he was brought. He had simply went to bed one night after drinking at a bar, blacked out, and woken up already locked and dressed in the institute, with his form of submissiveness and master chosen for him. Many had similar stories, or were dragged from public places kicking and screaming, or got into cabs that went in completely the wrong directions… There was a long list. They were usually given a explanation. Vague allegations of minor crimes, poor behavior, a likeliness of future crimes or failures, internet search histories, having failed some kind of government test- there were plenty. Alex had a mix of these, with the same accusations of brattiness and immaturity that most who ended up in diapers got. They may be true, he knew, but he tended to believe the rumor that the institute simply needed to sell certain number of submissive to operate and did what was necessary to keep going. The government turned a blind eye and the public kept silent less they be chosen- they were fulfilling a needed service, anyway. For Alex, it was hard to argue. They seemed to know everything about him, and his trove of 'secret' stories about similar kinks was brought up time and time again as a reason. Whether they knew about them when they grabbed him or coincidently found out after searching was beyond him. Alex moaned inwardly thinking of it. The struggled slightly, hearing the tissue paper and his diaper rustle, then stopped. He glanced at the paddle beside him. Tauntingly cute looking, but sharp and painful, he had been given a taste of it earlier and threatened with more if he woke anyone up. He was a Christmas present, and just like any other gift supposedly from Santa Clause, he would not be seen until morning. Waking them up would spoil the surprise, and he had been trained to obey. That training itself had been a nightmare. When he first woke up that day long ago, he had no idea what was happening. He had woken up slowly at first, feeling a slight headach, then bolted up when he noticed he was in a strange room surrounded by bars. “No” he had thought, “it can’t be…” IN reality it was obvious- he had long known about the training program, and that the diapered subs were one of options, but like most, he had never thought it would happen to him. When it did, he did everything in his power to deny it to himself. He had quickly glanced down at himself to see he was dressed in bright pink footed pyjamas and a bulky object he later realized was a diaper. He tried to scream out, only to find his mouth full of something he later realized was a pacifier. He tried to remove it, only to find his hands were wrapped in thick, fingerless mittens, leaving them useless. He looked around himself, and confirmed his suspicions. The bars he had once thought were for a cage were in fact part of a crib, and the room was a giant nursery, decorated cutely, with a changing table, high chair, and toys all clearly intended for him. A pit had begun to form in his stomach. A woman, not much older then Alex, came in beaming. He still remembered the first words she said. “Hello, how’s my little baby doing?” She spoke in a sweet, familiar voice, as if he truly was a baby girl and there was nothing strange at all with him being there. The rest of the day had followed suit. He was offered no explanation and given no chance to ask for one. He was carted helplessly from humiliation to humiliation, unable to get out of the arms, baby harnesses and strollers that held him, and unable to speak with the pacifier in his mouth, only leaving it for feedings. That day he wasn’t even treated as a sub, but simply as a baby. Spankings or other punishments weren’t necessary yet- he was too restrained and bewildered to fight, he was simply there to learn his place. He was fed, talked to in baby gibberish or simply ignored, and changed. THAT was a memory that had stuck with him, not because of the teasing or punishment, but because of the lack there of. “Do you smell something?” one has said calmly. “I think the baby has a stinky butt” the other replied with no sign of surprise. “Check him?” Alex was bent over, his onesie undone. “Yep,” then, in the high pitched joking voice used for infants, “has the baby made a stinky? Does she need to get her butt changed? YES SHE HAS! YES SHE DOES!” The lack of mocking and teasing had made it seem all the worse, as if it was something natural that should be expected. The truth was, as he would learn, it soon would be. As Alex was lain on the floor in a main hallway and changed as the pair in front of him talked on as if nothing was wrong, he had even begun to wonder if he really was a baby, and the last few decades of his life were some bizarre dream. It seemed a better option then being a submissive. The real training had started the next day. Alex shifted again, and tried to pull his arms at least a bit loose. This position was far from comfortable, and his back was getting sore. He wondered what it said about his new masters that he was to be found this way. Did they know how uncomfortable it was? Did they want him to be sore? An answer either yes or no could mean a lot. Of course, the fact that he was chosen as a sissy baby said a lot as it was. There was something of an unspoken hierarchy at the training institute. It depended a lot person to person, but their were some general rules that could be said depended on the harshness, or embarrassment, related to the job. At the top were the merely unstated submissives. They were there to serve, with no real, and as long as they behaved were treated well. After that came the ‘animals,’ either work horses intended to pull their masters around or pet kittens and puppies, they were treated well, if condescendingly. Then came the punishment subs, there to take spankings, be degraded, and tied for their masters pleasure. Underneath them all were the babies. Some could live pretty good lives and be treated well, finding themselves essentially just living to be cuddled and coddled, but that was often not the case. It was hard to feel any sort of pride when all others were baking away from the smell of your diapers. Alex was the lowest from of these. Not just a baby, but a sissy baby and a punishment sub at that. He had become well acquainted with rope and paddles while there, and the diapers and dresses simply added a whole new level of humiliation. Alex pondered slightly. As most had guessed, if that is what his masters wanted, it did not bode well for him. Whoever was paying want him degraded as much ass possible. Most ended up living essentially as their training had done. Some, however, were lucky. They were punished and trained to a low level then brought to their masters as if being rescued, receiving love and affection, and forming a strange form of bond from the knowledge of what they were being kept from. Others got the exact opposite. Even within the categories, the harshness, strictness and length of training varied. Some masters wanted subs with fight left in them that they could spank out over time. Others would switch their subs theme upon arriving, leaving the poor, bewildered submissive confused and having to go through training again. The ones that Alex pitied the most were, ironically, barely even punished at training. Their masters wanted the opposite idea then the rest received. They were praised, given freedoms, and given rewards to build up a sense of pride that the masters could have fun breaking. They were often even given authority over the other submissives, who were told to keep mum about the poor fools fates. Sometimes they’d come back with their masters later, tears streaming down their faces, their pride shattered, their delusions gone as they were laughed at by the ones they had looked down on. Alex himself had been spanked by a few confused submissives only to later see them crawling around In diapers themselves, now bigger bawling babies then anyone, their pride making the fall all the worse. Somehow they never seemed to learn until it was too late. Alex groaned at the binds and his stiff muscles. He was beginning to feel hungry again. How long had he been there? He would have thought it was only one night, but there were no windows, and it felt like a lot longer. He prayed his masters were in the kindest category, hoping for him to see them as some kind of saviors, but he craved being untied whether or not they were. It was more likely that he was meant to be the baby he was dressed as anyway. This could still mean different things, as rumors always came back about what the babies got in the outside world. Some were treated merely as that, infants for their ‘parents’ to take care of, nothing more. Some existed for humiliation, spending long nights tied in messy diapers and over laps getting spanked in public. Some were there to work and please their masters, their clothing adding a form of mocking comedy to otherwise adult tasks. Some lived for pleasure, receiving toys and other benefits, others were deliberately denied it, being brought close to it then returned to whine and moan in their diapers. Some lived to train people to take care of real babies, used for diaper changing demonstrations, some were mascots for small sports teams and organizations or public draws to restaurants and game rooms. Others still were even given to younger people, treated as playthings, live in dolls for the amusement of children. Most did not know what it was going to be until they got there. He shuddered at the thought, and prayed it was one of the better ones. He tried to think of the cruelty of someone who would subject him to it. Could he really blame them though? He had, after all, written all those stories... but those were fiction, not reality... was there a difference? Yet there he was, an adult, diapered, sissified... The training varied from person to person, but for babies there were some general themes. The life in a nursery, the wearing diapers, and being given toys were all common. Most were fed, and most were taught to use their diapers. Some were deliberately made incontinent, being given pills and hypnosis to render them diaper dependent. Alex avoided this, though you never would tell from watching him. A messy diaper around his waist was a common theme in his life. Like all babies, he slept in a crib, and was taken care of like a baby in his ‘home.’ This home was the residence while he stayed in the institute. As usual, he was the only baby there. The other themes were represented similarly, there were pets, work animals, slaves, sissies, and other kinds of submissives, but rarely more than one or two of each at a time. There were also groups of non submissives who went in and out of living there like a hostel, and more still that came by and paid to gawk and laugh. They usually paid to see due to their own sadistic kinks or schadenfreude, and the fact that they beleived the people there had earned their punishment made them all the more vicious in their laughing and teasing. This was for a serious, if subtle reason. If the submissive felt rare, and they were constantly faced with a new group of people, it kept the helplessness and embarrassment of their situation fresh. As had been explained to Alex, the reason a sissy male was embarrassed to be in a dress was because men didn’t wear dresses. If Alex had spent his life surrounded by other sissy babies, eventually it wouldn’t seem to be strange at all. From the ‘homes,’ the submissive would be taken daily to training, this time along with the similarly dressed brethren. As a sissy baby, Alex would join a long and often smelly line of grown adults in diapers, feeling absolutely ridiculous as they were paraded, all holding a rope like children, toward class. Once there, they were trained as a group, with variations for their individual master’s desires. They would be given kindergarten like classes on basic subjects to reduce them and bring their thinking to that of a babies. Sometimes they’d deliberately be given fake information, being forced to learn math wrong or memorize a made up alphabet. They’d then be tested on it, and have their place hammered home when they failed tests seemingly made for children. From there it was more kink related training. They’d be taught to be submissive, with a long list of humiliating and painful punishments, from spankings and being tied up, to more childish such as time outs and mouth soaping’s. They were trained to behave as their masters wanted, forced to crawl around, play with children’s toys, and mess their diapers. They were even trained to act up from time to time, practicing throwing tantrums or acting as brats. Some were slowly rendered incontinent, some were given potty training which was deliberately made impossible, then told they were in diapers because they failed, and others were simply ignored until they messed themselves, and at times kept in them until they were used to the feeling. Whatever a master wanted, he could get, and the trainers bet their careers on making it happen. Alex wasn't given a chance. There was no effort to untrain or to pretend to train. This, he figured, meant whoever he was going to meet in the morning wanted someone who was able to control their functions, but still used to diapers. Did that mean they intended to some kind of joke potty training routine? Was it meant to be successful, with him finally getting out of the childish undergarments, or not? Would they go the opposite route, subjecting him to hypnosis and bizarre diets? He doubted that one, if they wanted that they could have done it already. There was a chance they'd keep him in diapers but let him use the toilet, or present themselves as the saviors of the degradation he had suffered... It was possible, and he hoped for it, but he had learned not to hope for too much. Something told him that wasn't the case. The most likely was that they'd keep him in some variation of what he had before- continent, but with no way to tell that based on what he wore (or, he thought blushing, he smelled like), giving them control over when it happened and whether or not he'd be punished... he shuddered. What else could tell him what to expect? So this one is a bit different then my others. I'm sort of experimenting with a different structure. Rather then having a normal narrative or much dialogue, it is a series of settings, with the plot hopefully coming through. That is because it is supposed to be the Alex (myself) remembering what happened to him as he lies in bondage. I figured memories tend to be more like vague snapshots rather then having a lot of details, so I tried to write it like that. If it didn't work, it is basically the story of Alex's will being broken as he waits for his captors. BTW, this goes with this picture: http://swabbs.deviantart.com/art/The-Gift-That-Keeps-On-Giving-Dress-Clean-652281997 by Swabbs, with his permission. Le me know if there is an issue with me posting that there, I will remove it.
  20. banana

    Hello, i am new here but just looking for some suggestions for something I'm going to try. I ordered an inflatable butt plug and a hollow "tunnel" plug and when they arrive I am planning on using them to fill myself up with bananas and enemas and then eventually messing my diaper. I have done the banana challenge a couple times but always have to let them out earlier than I would like. so here's the plan. Going to put the hollow plug in, put in roughly 2 bananas cut up into smallish pieces, and then a 16oz bottle of water. Once that is all in I am going to put the inflatable plug inside the hollow plug and pump it until it's snug. Then hopefully I can hold that for a while, and repeat 1 or maybe 2 rounds of that. My questions are: Should I put the inflatable plug inside the hollow plug or just remove the hollow one and insert the pump one? Is there anything else you would suggest putting in my butt (suppositories, whipped cream, another kind of fluid)? Any other suggestions you have if I'm trying to just make myself really desperate to poop and then have a giant release? Thanks!
  21. A sissy diaper friend from both Fetlife and Daily Diapers named “Rufflie” recently challenged me to get fitted for a bra while wearing diapers and plastic pants. While I love the challenge of going out in diapers barely covered, I have never worn a bra, much less got fitted for one. After some discussion, I told Rufflie that there are plenty of beach shops and even some adult stores around where I live and I could hopefully get fitted for a bra as challenged all while heavily diapered. I decided I would go for it this past Saturday as I am one not to back down from a challenge. All day Saturday I was both excited and could not get the thought of going out diapered for a bra fitting out of my mind. Later that afternoon I took a long hot shower, applied a generous amount of baby lotion followed by a heavy dusting of baby powder. I decided I would go all out and wear my thick Babykin pink nursery print cloth diapers and see through plastic pants. I topped these off with a women’s short yellow fleece beach top that ended just above the waistband of my plastic pants. After looking in the mirror, I had second thoughts that I might be going too far. While in just diapers and the top, I logged into Fetlife to see who was online only to find Rufflie and here his banter, telling me I better give a play by play of what happens. Before I could back out, I quickly put some baby blue fleece short shorts on over my diaper, thinking there is no turning back now, grabbed my keys and left the house. As I was driving through the Cocoa Beach and Cape Canaveral area I passed the new Fairvilla Boutique that recently replaced the older mega store I used to go to. I had seen a recent commercial that described their extensive collection of lingerie and dancewear, as well as massagers, unique gifts and more for adventurous adults as they described it. I decided that Fairvilla was the place to do my fitting as it is an adult store and they would be aware of various fetishes. I turned the car around and my foot slid automatically from the gas toward the brake pedal. With a deep sigh, my heart raced with anticipation and excitement as my car came to a halt at the edge of the parking lot. As I got out of the car and walked towards the front door, and as if mocking my masculinity, my penis twitched within the thick folds of my diaper, and a stream of pee flowed warmly between my thighs. I could not help but be reminded of the infantile thick diapers and plastic baby pants that were barely covered by my short shorts. The sales girls in the shop were different from my last visit to the old mega store… not surprising considering the time between visits, but just as friendly and unsolicitous as the others. I browsed around to see what was where and then found myself fascinated by the PVC, leather and lace lingerie hanging in one corner. I could not ignore the attraction. Then I wandered over to the bondage section. I always wanted to be restrained and forced to wear and use my diapers. Periodically one of the sales girls would ask if I was "ok" or if I needed any assistance. After this one girl asked me a second time I decided it was time to ask for help with the bra fitting that I came for. Besides the bulk between my legs was making me feel very self-conscious and I was sure I'd be `found out'. Silly when you think of what I was there for. Anyway I asked the salesgirl where the bras were. She smiled at me and led me to a series of racks and displays and said her name was Nikki and I should ask for her if I needed more help. I looked through the displays and caught myself feeling the lace and satin of many of the bras in various colors, sizes and styles. I started to select several and then began to have doubts about their fit since the sizes were numbered and with letters instead of the large or extra-large markings I am used to on other clothing. Seeing my indecision Nikki again offered to help and I confessed I wasn't sure of the size. She asked the size of the person they were for. Simple enough question but I fear I blushed a bit. After starting several answers I admitted they were for me. She smiled so very understandingly, glanced at my padded hips and said, "I thought they might be. She said why don’t we take a couple of quick measurements so we can pick the right bra size for you. Nikki wrapped a cloth measuring tape around my chest and told me I would be about a 44B. You can always try them on and we can make sure they fit." That seemed logical enough and I headed for the changing area with 5 different bras. As I was about to enter the changing room, Nikki looked at the bras I had and told me 3 of them would probably not fit me. Some pink lace bras on the rack next to the changing room caught my attention and I asked if I could try one on. She reached one down in my size and handed it to me as I slipped through the curtain. I made sure the curtain was shut and decided to take my shorts and shirt off leaving me standing there in just my thick diapers and plastic pants. I took a deep breath and wrapped the pink bra around my chest while attempting to hook the clasp behind me. I could only get it partially hooked and was about to abandon the experience when I heard Nikki's voice ask how things were going. My quick answer was," fine…" and before I realized what I was saying, "…but I can't hook the clasp." Somewhat to my surprise and embarrassment and deep down delight, Nikki glided through the curtain and said, "turn around". This was the first time in a long time anyone had seen me in my diapers and oh, wow was my head hot and swimming. She hooked me in and inquired "how's that?" All I could stammer was "thanks" and she patted my diapered butt was gone. I spent a little time looking at myself in the mirror and deciding to add the bra to my purchases and then realized that I needed to ask Nikki to undo the bra for me. But where was she. I looked out through the curtain for Nikki and the other girl was talking on the phone but no Nikki. The other girl caught my eye, smiled and pointed to a door. After an awkward moment I caught on that she expected me to walk out in only my diapers and bra and go get Nikki. Ah, why not. I took a quick breath and crossed the room to the indicated door, looked in and almost pleaded with Nikki to come help me, just as 3 college age girls walked into the store and quickly noticed the diapered sissy in front of them. They stood there for a moment and just stared at me before they burst into laughter and then walked off toward the dildos. On our way across the room I again took a quick look at the maid dresses and other sissy dresses. I didn't think she noticed but said, "pretty aren't they. Want to try a couple on?" Just how hot can one's neck get but I nodded yes and muttered "sure". She took one of the shortest black PVC French maid dresses with white PVC ruffles in the back off the rack and with that innocent smile said we should try a couple different styles. Suddenly here I was in the changing room with this petite pretty girl pulling a maids dress down over my diapers. The dress did nothing to hide my thick bulging diapers. I did all I could to hide my embarrassment and excitement as she zipped it up, and then left the dressing room leaving me in only the short French maid dress with diapers and plastic panties almost fully exposed. She returned a few minutes later telling me while cute, the maids dress is way too sexy and mature for someone still in diapers. In her hand was the most beautiful white romper just dripping with ruffles and lace with a bib front and straps that cross in the back that she insisted I try on. I quickly complied as she slipped it over my feet and up my legs, we both laughed, as she had to force past my bulging diapers. She told me to put my yellow fleece beach top on as it would look cute with the romper. She then crossed the two back straps and buttoned them to the lace trimmed bib in the front. As I looked in the mirror, I realized I now looked like an overgrown toddler with a bulging bottom covered with ruffles and lace. She patted me on my diapered bottom and left the room one more time as I decided to put my shorts on but couldn't find them and decided they must have put them somewhere to keep them safe. I looked outside the curtain for Nikki and only saw the other young girl. She said Nikki would be with me shortly. When she finally returned she told me that had no idea where my shorts were. Nikki told me to follow her, in horror I realized the predicament I was in as both girls started to laugh. Nikki told me they were closing for a private bachelorette party and I would have to pay for the bra and romper I was wearing and leave the store. I reluctantly paid her as the college girls walked up to the counter and commented on how cute my romper was. While I love being caught in diapers and humiliated, I had more than my share today. As I walked out to my car I felt like everyone was staring at me. After all, here I am a grown man in thick diapers and plastic pants covered by a very babyish lace romper. I quickly got into my car and drove off only to wet myself one more time.
  22. Hi this is my first try at a story and English isn't my first language so bear with me Part 1 So not how he thought his first month of college would go. Almost 18 Tee just moved away from his parents to start Uni far away from home. Sitting anxiously on his new flats sofa waiting for his dad to return his mind started to drift back to his childhood memories. He has always been the perfect kid. Smart polite quiet top of his class loved by his teachers and peers. Every parents dream - well almost... 2 problems remained almost constant in his life or was it actually 1 ? Seemed like no matter how much he tried somehow having a healthy bowel regimen didn't seem to work for him. And neither did staying dry at night 365 nights a year. He was the eldest of 3 children his parents were well off as his father Chris was a quite successful singer, which also meant him being away from home for weeks at a time for work. His mom Patty worked mostly from home with 3 children at different ages was the most logical thing to do. He couldn't remember if there was ever a time in his life longer than a few months where he had no troubles with either wetting his bed or having regular bowel movements or more commonly both. He remembered as a toddler numerous suppositories given by his mom, who always seemed less patient with him than his dad. But most ordinary days only his mom was there to notice him hiding trying to avoid the urge to go potty. Things didn't get better as he grew older. As his mom had his siblings she seemed to have lesser and lesser patience to deal with her eldest and probably most anxious child's issues . He was seen by numerous doctors who either offered only temporary solutions or just said he will grow out of it. Now he started to wonder if he ever will. He thought back to the family summer vacation when he was 12 or 13. His dad been away for a few weeks when his wetting started up again . His sister was just being potty trained and he remembered his mom muttering under her breath that she once again got 2 kids in diapers at night but maybe by the end of the summer it would only be 1. Him. As rules went, his problems were only known by his parents and most rules were made by his mom since she was the 1 home most of the time. When he was little the rules were getting diapered ( either by mom or dad ) and not being allowed to take off the diaper without 1 of them. As he grew older his dad bought goodnites for him which made his life so much easier. He still had a rubber sheet to protect the bed but now he could change his own pullup and didn't require his parents to change him. Normally there were no punishments for wetting his bed. He was allowed to sleep without a pullup if he was dry for 4 nights in a row. If he wet the bed he was required to take off his sheets pjs and put them in the laundry, letting his mom know what happened during the night. Usually after a few wet sheets he had to start wearing the pull-ups again. That summer however he decided to try to hide the fact that he was having nighttime accidents again. It turned out to be a big mistake. His mom found out as of course she did what mom wouldn't . Though until that day when he came home to find his mom in the middle of the living room waiting for him he never got punished for wetting his bed.
  23. From the album DLBiker

    You got to love the combination of diapers, puffy plastic pants and leather while working on the cold steel of the motorcycle. It looks like DLBiker is ready to ride!
  24. From the album DLBiker

    You got to love the combination of diapers, puffy plastic pants and leather while working on the cold steel of the motorcycle. It looks like DLBiker is ready to ride!
  25. From the album DLBiker

    You got to love the combination of diapers, puffy plastic pants and leather while working on the cold steel of the motorcycle. It looks like DLBiker is ready to ride!