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I’m new here. Sorry if I’ve posted this in the wrong place! I decided to join because I want to share/explore/understand something from my childhood which has become really big in my life now. I have no idea why I feel the way I do about this one thing, but here goes… Right before middle school, my parents bought a minivan from a family we knew well. It didn’t have a full seat belt in the middle seat and the family had fitted this special harness. Being the youngest of three, my parents made me sit in the middle seat between my brothers and I had to wear the harness which I really hated. Today, for whatever reason, I miss it. I have a strong desire to be back wearing it which I think about every time I’m in a car (especially when I’m not the one driving). It's not a kinky thing at all (which is partly why I thought a lot about joining here), but just this intense wish to have that feeling back. I don’t just mean wearing the harness but the general situation and routine of having to wear it as well. I had to wear it from the summer before middle school until sometime into my sophomore year in high school. I have loads of memories and I wonder whether my experience being when it was, for as long as it was, had some sort of influence to make it what it is to me now? I don’t want anyone to think I’m expecting any sort of special/qualified assistance or anything like that at all. I just want to share and try to understand why this thing I hated in my childhood has morphed into some big thing in my adult life. Folks here seem really supportive and open to these sorts of discussions, so I hope I’m okay to post so openly with no specific question! Thanks.

Hello everyone, I hope this sparks discussion about what helped shape our "Sissy" side. I know for me, this was a big tipping point. I wanted to make this thread to share specific memories or stories about your Sissy side. I'll share some of mine, starting with the following. This is the most open I've ever been with any of my friends growing up about panties and sissy things. When I was about a Sophomore in high school, i would stay the night at my friend Jim's house from time to time. We'd known each other since kindergarten and were really close. We both had younger sister's as well. Well, one Saturday after midnight, he and I were sharing our favorite "adult" videos with each other on his computer. We'd been a little "worked up" and both went to the bathroom (separately) to finish the job. Afterward, we were relaxing in his room and I half jokingly, asked "Have you ever wore Mel's (his sister) panties?" He said "No dude, and i don't think i'd fit haha" "Have you tried Ashley's (my sister)?" Nervously I said "Yes, sometimes when i'm home alone i "play" in them." He was immediately curious "Wait, you fit?....how do they feel? Are they soft?" We both wore generic store brand boxers at the time. His sister was almost the same age as us but on the "plus size". I knew she had a cute selection of panties from the many times I'd hung out at their house. She'd always bend over, showing her Hanes or Old Navy panties. Always with bright colors or cute sayings on them. My sister was a few years younger and more petite. I had spent many hours (when home alone) modeling her panties in the mirror. She was more subtle with simple polka dots and stripes from Gymboree or Gap. I told him "they barely fit, but they're so SOFT!!! and it feels amazing to 'finish' in them" "i know i could fit in Mel's just fine" It was too late that night to do anything, but we began to plan. I told my friend he needed to try panties as soon as possible. He was apprehensive but agreed. Just a few short days later, he sent me a text with a picture, "Dude i'm home alone which ones should i use" attached was a photo with 2 pairs of panties on his sister's bed. One was plain white with a very small pink bow on the front. The other was lime green with orange flowers. I replied "use the green ones, ones with patterns are so much more fun" He replied roughly 10 mins later "Dude!!!! holy crap that felt so GOOD" Later that week, i was home alone and sent him a similar message. The photo showed 2 pairs, one with rainbow polka dots and the others (and older smaller pair) with cinderella on it. He replied instantly "o you have to use cinderella!!!! will you fit in them?" I squeezed my butt into the cinderella pair and 'finished' almost instantly. I texted him back "i almost ripped them but it worked!!!!" We would play this game for a few months, quickly learning our entire sister's panty drawers and which pairs fit and felt good. Then one day he texted me and said "....would you ever want to wear Mels?" Sheepishly i replied "....ya...they look so freaking cute....would you want a pair of Ashleys?" "....ya.....if it's not weird..." "...no dude it's cool...just our secret man...promise...?" "ya of course man....totally.....when should we trade?" we waited a few more weeks, then found the perfect excuse, we needed to study for finals. He came over after school and my parents left us alone to study. We had the whole house to ourselves. I asked "Do you still want to do this, we don't have too?" "Ya man i;ve been thinking about it all day" Jim replied. "what kinda panties do you want? I asked. "The girlier the better dude" I excused myself to my sister's room and selected the pair. It was all cotton. Red with white polka dots and 2 little white bows, one on each hip. They were the largest size, so i hoped he would fit. When i returned, he told me to close my eyes. I heard him unzip his backback and place some soft fabric in my hand. I opened them and my heart started racing. They were bright blue with tons of white and pink stars all over. The waistband was bright pink and the on the butt they said "outta this world" I showed him the pair i selected and we both got tense. I told him to go first, if he wanted. He walked into the bathroom and shut the door. I could hear his shorts hit the floor. Then him shuffle to slide into the panties. "Wanna seee....just for fun hahaha" he asked. "Sure" i said. He slid the door open. He was barely contained by the small cotton panties that stretched around his waist. "dang those look good on you hahaha" "thanks man...these feel incredible...my sister doesnt have ones like these." He closed the door and 'finished' in them. then i went in. I couldn;t believe it. I was going to wear a real girl's panties!!! I practically jumped in them. "wanna see?" i said after i had modeled them to myself in the mirror. They fit like a glove. better than any pair of boxers or tighty whiteies i had as a kid. I felt magical. I opened the door and Jim said "whoa those fit you so well man!" I blushed and said "thanks." I then closed the door and 'finished' in them. We then realized we had 2 pairs of "dirty" panties that we didn't know what to do with. After a bit of deliberation, we decided to throw them in the dumpster behind my parents house. We both really wanted to keep them but realized it would be impossible to explain if we got caught. We never exchanged panties again but we would send pics and make each other choose which ones to "play with" throughout high school. A couple times he even had his cousin visit who was a year older than us and how thongs and PINK brand panties. We went to different colleges and soon only would reconnect on spring break or other holidays. We never spoke of the panties again. Recently he moved out of my area and got married. we only reach out to say "happy birthday" or send christmas cards.

I have heard it said that our "olfactory" (hope I spelled that right) or sense of Smell, is one of our strongest senses related to triggering long distant, past Memories..anyone interested or know any thing about this and or want to share Diaper smell(s) experiences or memories, feel free..:)

Did anyone else like to secretly read the toilet training chapters of your parents’ baby care books as a kid? And/or the parts about accidents, and bedwetting, and diapers....? Did you ever look up words related to wetting and diapers in the dictionary, and the library catalogue? Find all the diaper-related ads in catalogues, grocery store flyers and magazines? Walk down the diaper aisle at the store at every opportunity? Remember every single mention of someone being desperate, or needing their diaper changed, or ‘having an accident’ in every story you ever read and every conversation you heard? What else did you do like this? Here's how some of it started for me. About 5 seconds into puberty I accidentally gave myself some very good feelings wriggling around trying to hold it in when I was desperate to pee. I didn’t have an accident or anything, but suddenly I was really aroused by imagining having one. Holding until I couldn’t, and helplessly wetting my pants or bed like I often had as a younger kid. Memories came ‘flooding back,’ and with them a sudden bunch of questions I’d never thought about before. How old was I when I was potty trained? What was it like for my parents when I was not-quite-potty-trained? Did I really just have accidents everywhere for a while? What must it feel like to be in diapers? Being nerdy and bookish and genuinely curious, I found my parents’ copy of Dr. Spock's Baby and Child Care. Along with learning a few basic facts about my diaper years, I quickly discovered that reading about all this gave me lots of tingly feelings and urges about doing it. Some of my earliest pee play consisted of wearing makeshift diapers (or just my pyjamas or pants), making myself desperate and literally wetting myself like a baby to the words and sentences in that book that made me feel that way. Not long afterwards, I was doing the same to ads for Pampers and plastic baby pants in my parents’ magazines. I kind of discovered ageplay this way, imagining being the babies in the ads as I really did what babies do in their diapers. Or I’d be a 2 or 3 or 4 year old in the Dr. Spock chapter, failing potty training in my diapers or pants in any of a hundred ways… Forgetting to go and doing it where I sat... Not being able to hold it any more in a car or a store... Hurrying to the bathroom clutching myself a minute too late, and feeling it running all down my pantlegs on the way. Which all felt so freeing, exciting and good that I still have favourite sentences from that chapter and some of those ads memorized.

Padded Travel The other day I was waiting for my flight at the airport and saw a sight that brought back some mixed, though in general, happy memories. There was a young girl about 6 or 7 sat reading a book resting on her knees with her feet on the seat and her little blue summer dress had risen up innocently showing what she was wearing underneath. What caught my eye were the shiny pale blue plastic pants that were obviously covering a thick diaper. I didn’t want to stare too long but it reminded me of the time when my parents used to put me into diapers for long journeys. The mother was sat next to her but I don’t think she saw me looking however, shortly after I saw this particular sight; she called to her son, who was watching the nearby TV screen. The boy, about 10 or 11 was wearing a pair of blue and grey checked shorts and he also appeared to be protected because when he reached over to pick up a toy he’d dropped, the gap between his t-shirt and shorts showed the top of his diaper. Once I knew he was dressed that way, it became obvious from how he was wearing his shorts that he was also very well padded indeed. Unfortunately, pretty soon after this event the father, a very good-looking man in his late twenties, wearing pale blue chinos and a brilliant white polo shirt, arrived and hurried them all off to their flight. They looked a really nice family group as they gathered up their belongings, and the children’s colourful cases, and hurried their way to the departure gate. Neither child seemed distressed by, or even conscious of, what they were wearing for the flight. They, like their parents, appeared to be just excited by their trip and that was all. **** I’m not a father myself but I always think that having your children well-padded for long flights seems to be such a prudent idea, as kids can suddenly get the urge to go at the most inopportune times and often holding it is not an option. Such precautions seem sensible and cuts down on any anxiety from parents and airline companies. No-one really wants to be left with a wet seat. The reason I think that way is because although I was potty-trained from an early age, when we embarked on any journey of any significance in the family car, I was always diapered for the duration. I do remember that this was because once, when I was 4 years-old, I fell asleep in the back of the car and accidentally wet the seat. Dad was furious, although he didn’t shout or scream at me he just sternly mentioned that we’d have to take more care the ‘next time’. Little did I know that the ‘next time’ meant I was to be well padded. A few weeks later, before we set off to visit my Aunty Joan and Uncle Jon, my mother said that she would supervise my getting ready as she had something I needed to wear. At the time I had no inkling to what she had in mind but it soon became apparent when I got out of the bath, dried myself off and saw the clothing she’d put out. There on the bed, taking pride of place between my navy blue shorts and red t-shirt was a triangle of material that I didn’t at first register what it was for. In my innocence I thought it must be some kind of shawl to keep me warm on the journey… that is until my mum arrived and told me exactly what it was for. I screamed and shouted in protest; “I didn’t want to wear a diaper.” “I was a big boy not a baby.” “I was too old to be in such a thing” or even worse “What would people say?” Bless her, my mum tried to calm me down and assured me that no-one else would know, it would be just me, her and dad… it would be our secret. She said all the correct things but I was still crying and refusing to let her put it on me… that was until my dad arrived saying we were late and to get a move on. I still protested but dad, who in all my 4 years on Earth had hardly ever raised his voice to me, never mind a hand, sat me down and explained why it had to be this way and there was no question about it. It was a company car for one and he took colleagues and visitors around in it and he couldn’t risk it not being anything but perfect for them (he was very car proud, constantly washing and cleaning it). He assured me that as soon as we reached our destination I could change back into my normal underwear but he was adamant, that on this occasion, I would put on what my mother had already sorted out for me to wear for the journey. He stood and watched as my mum fitted and pinned the thick terry towelling to a rather recalcitrant young man but in truth, once my shorts, t-shirt and jumper had been added no one else would have been able to tell that I was padded. Although I knew and I thought it felt really strange and uncomfortable but an argument would not be permitted, dad had made it clear that any more protest would not be tolerated. **** The journey to my aunts was quite long and we stopped for breaks and food along the way. Together with my dad, we went to the restrooms and he helped me skin down my shorts and ease my little penis past the leg holes of the diaper to pee. I was making a point… that I hadn’t really needed to be wearing this bulky item as I could be relied to get to the restroom in time if need be, However, I did fall asleep on the last leg of the trip and, on getting out of the car realised that I had, wet myself. Once at my aunties I was glad to see that at least my shorts didn’t show any evidence of what I’d done and I couldn’t wait to get to my room and change out of the increasing dampness that was clinging to my groin. I thought I might get away with it too but my mum followed me upstairs to unpin me and she saw my embarrassment. I wasn’t very wet but there was no denying what I’d done as my mother ran her hand over my soggy diaper. I was on the verge of crying again but she pulled me to her bosom and comforted me. Telling me what a good boy I’d been and saying that was what all the precautions were for… so not to worry. She quickly got me changed and I was soon wearing my little red nylon swimming trunks and eager to go out to play with my two cousins who were already splashing around in their little inflatable pool outside. My cousins, JJ (Jon Junior) was 6 and his younger brother Si (Simon) was the same age as me and we had a great time firing our water-pistols, throwing water over each other and generally doing what kids do. Our parents were out in the garden chatting and catching up and although we were constantly under their ever watchful eyes we were only called in once and that was to eat. Uncle Jon and my father had made a fantastic barbeque and we boys feasted on sausage and chicken and soda. It was a warm night but at 8 o’clock it was bedtime and the three of us reluctantly trooped in to get ready. Si and I went to the bathroom first to wash the sauce from our fingers and faces and mum came in to supervise we had cleaned everywhere. When we came out of the bathroom JJ was already lying naked on his bed and his mum was getting him ready but I was surprised to see that he was in the final throws of having a diaper put on. Once he was done she called Si to go over to her and he was similarly equipped, though a pair of clear plastic pants were put over his before his pajamas were pulled up over them all. I was shocked but the two boys didn’t seem to mind and suddenly I found myself similarly being diapered by my aunt. I was about to protest when my cousins told me to hurry up as they were waiting for their story. I’d not been sent to bed in a diaper for a long time so I was a little worried about it, especially when a pair of plastic pants was also added to my night time experience. When my mum arrived with my pajamas she could see what was happening and the worried look in my eyes but knew the other boys were already in their night time protection so decided not to make a fuss. I felt betrayed and the thickness around my bottom, as I climbed into bed with Si, only added to that feeling. However, Aunty Joan had told JJ and Si that my mum was going to tell them a story tonight but after that, it was lights out… and we were told in no uncertain terms… no fooling around until morning. My mum is a great story teller. In fact, Aunty Joan always said that even as a child (mum was the eldest by 2 years) she could make up a decent story in seconds. I was still none too happy but Si cuddled up close to me in his little single bed, JJ was on his own in one opposite, and mum began her tale of three rabbits, which just happened to be called JJ, Si and Les. It was a great story and we were all enthralled. Si clung to me for dear life as mum told of the perils these little rabbits got themselves into and we cheered when they escaped the clutches of the farmer and Foxy the Fox. When she’d finished she kissed us all goodnight, turned out the light and closed the door. JJ voiced the opinion that my mum was the ‘bestest story-teller ever’ and as Si held onto me he eagerly agreed. We must have quickly fallen asleep because the next thing I knew we were being roused to get up for breakfast. **** Aunty Joan came in and checked the boys to see if there had been any accidents in the night. JJ was dry but both Si and I had woken up with a soggy diaper so the plastic protection had been needed. “No more drinks after 6 o’clock for you boys” she said, as we realised that the huge glasses of cola we’d drunk had found their way into out diapers. Once all cleaned up and powdered (this was another new experience for me) it was back into out t-shirts and shorts, as after breakfast we all went down to the lake for more swimming, fishing, sun bathing and play. For the entire week we were there on vacation the days followed a similar pattern; we boys were kept busy and interested as we daily went on expeditions with one or all of our parents. Night times became the norm as well and I soon got used to being diapered for bed. As the nights had grown hotter we slept in just our diapers and sometimes, just before bedtime, we were allowed to stay up and watch TV a bit later than normal. We three lads would be laid out on the floor glued to the screen, naked but for our thick diapers, while our parents sat on the two available sofas and quietly chatted about whatever it was grown-ups found to talk about. I think my mum enjoyed seeing us kids dressed like that as she often patted our padded bottoms, whilst telling us how cute the three of us looked. Neither JJ nor I wet again but unfortunately Si did ever night. He always woke up soggy but he never leaked because both me and the bed were always dry. No one seemed to care and he was changed, lotioned and powdered (to prevent a rash Aunty Joan said) in front of us before donning his shorts for the day. **** It was a great week and I hardly thought about it when it was time to return home and I was required to be diapered once again for the journey. This time I didn’t make a fuss as I’d gotten used to it and as no one ever seemed to give it a second thought I also didn’t worry about being padded. In fact, I ‘d got quite comfortable wearing such a bulky piece of material between my legs on a night and as both Si and JJ took it as read that was the way everyone went to sleep… it was easy for me to accept it as well. Before I left Si had cried because we’d become great friends and he didn’t want me to leave as he said he’d miss me. Thoughtfully, mum had bought two new teddy bears, one for him and one for me so that we’d both have similar soft toys to sleep with and to remind us of each other. She also bought JJ a fabulous toy car to go with his collection, which he was really excited about receiving. I was a little sad myself as we waved our goodbyes but after only a couple of hours on the journey home I fell asleep clutching my new teddy bear. **** As he wanted to get home quickly, and I was fast asleep, dad didn’t need to stop once as we hurried along the highway. I woke up when were about 30 miles from home feeling more than a little damp. Dad looked in the mirror and told me we were almost there so I kept quiet but suddenly found I couldn’t hold it any longer and was peeing even more. The wetness spread but unfortunately I wasn’t wearing any plastic pants and a damp patch appeared on my shorts as we turned into our driveway. I dreaded the thought of having wet the seat but I rushed from the car and quickly followed mum into the house desperate to get my soaked diaper off. Mum saw the wet patch on my shorts and followed me to my room where she stripped me and told me to take a shower. Whilst I was doing that, she went and checked the rear seat of the car where I’d been sitting and reported back that it was dry and I wasn’t to worry. Relieved that I wouldn’t be in trouble with dad, I let my mum dry me off and before I was really aware of what was going on, she had powdered me and put me back into a lovely soft diaper, pulled on a pair of clear plastic pants, that I assumed must have been a spare pair of Si’s and told me I could either go straight to bed if I was tired or come down and watch TV for a while. Neither suggestion worried me and I cuddled up on the sofa wearing just my diaper and plastic pants as if this was the norm. That was it. From then on until I was ten years-old I wore diapers and plastic pants to travel in and most nights I wore them to sleep in. I didn’t wear them during the day for school or at weekends but at night I was now wrapped in a thick terry diapers, which mum took great pride in pinning tightly around me. It was all very comforting. Mum doing that, then telling me a new story or just chatting about what I’d done that day. She would make sure my teddy bear, the same type that Si had, was always with me and that last kiss goodnight made my world so much better. **** We visited my aunt and uncle at least once a year but they never came to us, Uncle Jon hated the city and was never keen to travel far from his home. When I was ten my mum and dad were off on a second honeymoon. I was told that when they got married they hadn’t been able to afford a real one so they had waited until they had enough money and would then celebrate in style. They went off to The Bahamas for two weeks without me but I was happy enough as I got to spend more time with JJ and Si. We still had a great time but the boys had grown up and neither now wore diapers for bed so I also wasn’t required to wear them either. At home I’d got into the habit of wearing them even though I couldn’t actually remember the last time I’d needed to use them for the purpose they were designed for. I just found it nice to be wrapped up like that and mum was happy with that choice. Anyway, I wasn’t at home now and my diapers were never unpacked and I wasn’t asked about them. It was just assumed I’d be like my cousins and wear normal big boy clothes. **** So, that was it. My parents returned home fully refreshed and looking even more in love than before and I was now grown up enough not to need any protection at night. I didn’t mind, I was ready to be a big boy but it came as a bit of a shock when, about 4 months later, mum told me I was about to have a baby brother or sister. I wasn’t sure what my reaction should be but as both her and my dad was so excited about it; I thought I should be as well. A few months after that I got my baby brother Joshua and there would be no doubt from then on I was to be the older, wiser and grown-up big brother. It was strange that all those thoughts came scrambling back into my head just because I’d caught sight of two children at the airport wearing diapers to travel in. The waiting at an airport had never seemed to go by as fast when I suddenly heard my name being called over the public address system. “The last and final call for passenger Mr Lee travelling on flight AA2003 to Los Angeles…” I quickly picked up my case and proceeded to the required gate feeling guilty about daydreaming and keeping everyone waiting. It wasn’t that bad and as I took my seat I couldn’t help getting the urge, when I got home, to buy some diapers and plastic pants and happily regress to a time when I felt my most happy. After all, no matter what our age… isn’t that what we all want to feel… HAPPY? **********$************

Okay, so, for whatever reason, I'm very bizarre like this. Let me explain.