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Vacation Diapers


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I'm very happily into my 3rd day of vacation. And the fact that I committed myself to 24/7 diaper use has not turned out to be as difficult I thought. I rented a cottage nestled in the dunes along Lake Michigan's eastern shore. The lake is steps from my door, the cottage is for the most part secluded and get this, it has a washer/drier. The sunsets over here are the best I've seen since visiting California years ago. And to top it off, I'm diapered and loving it.

I've never been on this side of the lake before and I must admit, it's one of the prettiest spots I've been. And while I enjoy my diapers when the mood and circumstance match up, I wanted to spend a nice diaper dependent week at the shore. The combination of natural beauty and the freedom afforded by 24 hour dependency has proven to make me a very happy man ( or should I say boy?).

I have been doing my share of relaxing on the beach with a good book. I have my laptop too and it's been fun watching the waves roll in and keeping up with the abdl world. I suppose I should mention that I've been doing some serious fiber "loading" along the way. I mean, really. I love my diapers (and my thumb) and have been putting them to good use. As it turns out, (who knew?) the diapers have quite literally been needed. Ahh, the joy.

This morning was just like the day before. I stroll from the deck with coffee in hand. I still wear my comfortably wet but not nearly saturated night diaper. The Abena I wear as a "liner" under my cloth pull-up awaits the inevidable. Who we kidding here? Some hot coffee, sand between my toes and a metric ton of injested fiber. I had to go. Bad. So bad I coulndn't hold it. The urge to go is really a very basic feeling. For we so inclined, it's a wonderful feeling. And this morning it was a very intense feeling.

I feel the urge grow to near painful. It feels like it's going to come out my ears. With the sun coming up over the dunes and the waves beginning to sparkle in the early morning light, I succumb to the powerful forces of Mother Nature. I look both ways. In each direction I see only miles of mostly deserted beach, the few souls joining me this morning are a mile away. I'm sure in the distance they won't see my thumb in my mouth. Or the discreet bulge of a wet diaper.

The moment of release is just the way I like it. Once I have surrendered I let my body relax and my attention focus. The urgency is so intense I can no longer control it. An involuntary contraction forces a firm log to emerge. It's huge. I know there is ample room in my diaper. And that's a good thing. Becuase this is a monster. After a what seemed like the slowest 10 seconds in my life, I feel a strong wave of intense urgency. A mighty surge of warm poop fills my diaper to capacity. It won't stop. I feel a hot gush as my bladder joins in. The poop slowly spreads, engulfing my scotum and awakening every nerve ending.

The volume is enormous. With thumb in mouth, I reach back to feel a still growing bulge. The relief is orgasmic. Poogasmic.

So here I sit on the deck of my cottage. Laptop on and connecting me to others who might share the rapture of a messy diaper. And I say to all of you: May you feel the peace that I do this oh so poopy morning.

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Guest Poopy Wipes

Hmm. Poop coming out the ears?? Strange.

You should find better ways to describe it. I for one would hate feeling like my poop was coming out my ears.

Poopgasmic. Contact Webster's. Now.

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I'd say that Jack was operating well within the limits of artistic license. I have had to pee so bad that I was certain my back teeth were floating. Poop at the ears is not a long stretch from there! Thankfully, in both cases, the pressure was apparently released in the other direction before either teeth or hearing were actually lost. :rolleyes:

Webster's is sure to recognize the value of the word poopgasmic and add it to the next addition.

I wonder how the rest of Jack's vacation is going?

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