A few preview photos of the lovely Russian diaper girl Marina. =)
The following is a true life account of the diaper punishment I endured from the ages of ten to thirteen. I have told this story before and have had many people claim it couldn’t possibly have happened. You just need to keep in mind that I am 41 years old and grew up in the seventies. Things were much different back them. Children were spanked often and I don’t mean a pat on the butt. I mean a butt blistering, can’t sit for a week ass whooping. Many parents also used humiliation as a form of control or punishment. If you didn’t grow up in those times, you are lucky.
Anyway, I started puberty when I was ten years old. There were a lot of things in body going through changes. It somehow affected my bladder and led to me wetting my bed. The first couple times it happened, my mother just told me accidents happen and not to worry about it. After four wet beds in two weeks though, she was not pleased. She insisted I was simply too lazy to get out of bed and use the toilet, so she began to punish me when I wet the bed. It started off with spankings, but when the bedwetting didn’t stop she escalated to diaper punishment.
One day at the grocery store, she walked down the baby aisle and started perusing the baby diapers. She grabbed a big box of the largest size Pampers(yes they came in a box back then) and commented that hopefully they would fit me. Knowing that she intended those diapers for me, I was suddenly struck by intense embarassment at walking around the store with diapers in the cart. Of course, in hindsight, most people would assume I had a baby sibling, but my ten year old mind insisted everyone knew they were for me. On the way home, she told me that from now on I will wear diapers to bed every night. And if I wake up wet, I will wears diapers the entire next day as well. If I stayed dry for one solid week, I would not be required to wear diapers to bed anymore.
It only took a couple days before I wet the bed again. Of course, this time I wet the diaper. When Mom found out, she told me that I knew the rules. She also added that diapers were expensive, so she would change me after I pooped. As per my daily routine, that poop came shortly after breakfast. I didn’t think there was any way I would be able to poop in a diaper, but the cramps didn’t give me much choice. When I went to tell Mom what I had done so she could change me, she told me she was busy with her needlepoint and would change me when she was done. That was two hours later.
Many people tell stories about how they weren’t allowed to cover their diapers or were purposely humiliated with public displays, but that never happened to me. I wore normal clothes every day, but I had a diaper on under my pants some days. Unfortunately, that also included school days, though she would always change me promptly after a messy diaper on school days.
This went on for over two years and I never did manage to stay dry for an entire week. In fact, at some points, I was diapered for a week or more thanks to nightly wetting. The wetting slowed down as my body began to settle into it’s post puberty stage and stopped altogether when I was almost fourteen. According to my therapist, and it makes sense to me, my diaper fetish and desire for diaper punishment was most likely triggered by the diaper punishment treatment during the most formative period of my sexual life – puberty.
Unlike most people, I was not very good at hiding my diaper fetish from my mother. Either I was just lazy or, as my therapist seems to think, I intentionally left my cache of fetish stuff in an easy to find location hoping to get caught.
You see, my mother was the snooping type and found my first stash when I was thirteen years old. In my stash, I had a several stories I had written about being forced to wear diapers and being treated like a baby against my will. I also had a few baby diapers that were far too small for me, but I used to just rub myself with them when masturbating. Being the snoopy mother she is, she made sure to read everything I wrote and then told me how disgusting and disturbing it was as she spanked me. She found my new stash a couple more times over the next year and both times I got the same treatment.
When I was fourteen, I made a huge discovery at a local second hand store. I found my first ever bag of adult diapers. They only cost two dollars, but I was too embarassed to carry them up to the register and pay for them, so I stuck them under my coat and walked out the front door. Big mistake. It was clear I was trying to steal them and they dragged me back into the store. The cops came and called my mother and she had to come down and pick me up. She had to pay for the diapers I tried to steal and I knew I was in big trouble.
When we got home, I got the worst spanking of my life. Then, to my surprise, she handed me one of the diapers and told me to put it on. It was incredibly embarassing to be putting on a diaper in front of someone that clearly didn’t approve of my fetish, but I knew better than to disobey her. As I taped the diaper into place, she grabbed a pair of sweatpants from my room and had me put them on backwards. I wasn’t sure why she wanted them backwards until after I had them on. She pulled the drawstring tight around my waist and tied it tightly in the small of my back. She double knotted it and tugged it hard to ensure I couldn’t untie it myself. I was basically locked into my diaper. She was clearly still upset with me, but said nothing until she sent me to bed at eight o’clock.
When I woke up in the morning, I needed to pee as usual. It was at this point that I realized I didn’t know if she intended for me to pee in the diaper or ask her for help. Not wanting to make another mistake, I found her in the kitchen and told her I needed to use the toilet. She just looked at me and said “You’re wearing it”. Clearly she intended for me to use the diaper. When I began to pout, she shot me a dark look and insisted that I was only getting what I always wanted. Realizing she was right, I went back to my room and wet my first diaper since babyhood.
After breakfast, it donned on me that diapers weren’t just for peeing in as the urge to have my after breakfast bowel movement set in. Once again, not wanting to piss off my mother, I let her know that I needed to go number two. At this point, she gave me a long speech about how I had crossed the line by stealing diapers to feed my disgusting fetish and that the only way she could think to break me of it is to give me exactly what I wanted, so I could see that it isn’t as fun as the fantasy. I took this to mean I was meant to have a messy diaper as well.
Ten minutes later, I was sitting in a very wet and messy diaper. When my mother smelled it, she told me to play outside until lunch, because I was stinking up her house. As I walked out the door, she told me if I was good she would change me at lunch time. As much as I had fantasized about just this, reality was clearly not as good as fantasy. It was embarassing and uncomfortable and I just sat outside fearing that my friends might show up and find out I was wearing a messy diaper. I wanted this to end and swore to myself I would never fantasize about diapers again.
At lunch time, mother came and got me. She took me to the bathroom and untied my pants. Then, she had me lie on the floor as she untaped the diaper and wiped me clean with a dozen wet paper towels. Once clean, she told me to take a shower while she finished fixing lunch and to wait for her in my room after my shower. At this point, I figured my diaper punishment was over and that I would get either a spanking, a lecture or both after my shower.
Instead, I was met with yet another diaper. I began to tear up when I realized I would be spending another day in a diaper, but my mother just explained that my punishment was to wear diapers until the diapers I tried to steal were gone. She then made a point of counting the diapers in the bag and announcing there were still nine diapers left, which meant nine more days in diapers with one diaper change a day. She followed with a comment that more diapers could be purchased if I didn’t do as I was told. This time I was not given a pair of pants to wear as mom told me to come down and have some lunch. In fact, I spent most of the next nine days wearing nothing more than a diaper and a t-shirt.
The embarassment of wearing diapers in front of my mother quickly wore off, but I was still mortified at the idea of being found out by my friends. Spending one embarassing day in diapers was enough to make me swear off my fetish, but ten days in diapers had the opposite effect. Because I had gotten used to wearing diapers in front of my mother, I began to enjoy it again. Of course, I didn’t tell her that, but I was incredibly tempted to do something stupid so she would buy more diapers. The only thing that stopped me was the knowledge that she would probably take the punishment up a notch and maybe send me to the park in a diaper with my pants or something. In hindsight, I know she would never do that, but in the mind of a kid I figured it was likely.
On the tenth day of diaper punishment, mom took me to the drug store. She shopped for the normal stuff she usually bought, but then took a stroll down the adult diaper aisle as she carefully glanced at the diapers on the shelves. She picked up on bag and commented that they must be extra thick diapers, because there was only a dozen diapers in that huge bag. I began to wonder what rule I had broken to earn more time in diapers and began to panic at the thought of being embarassed in front of my friends. She realized what I was thinking and quickly told me that these were going to be put in her closet for the next time she found dirty stories in my room.
I get a lot of emails from members that want to tell me about events that have happened in their lives. With permission, I am going to be adding these letters to the new letters category here on the blog. If you would like your letter posted here, please email it to email@example.com and be sure to mention that you give permission for it to be posted on the site.
Look forward to reading your great letters. =)
The email I posted the other day about things going wrong during playtime reminded me of something that happened a few years ago. My ex and I were having some weekend fun and I gave her a choice of helping me with the yardwork in only a diaper and shirt or spent the afternoon in the pillory while I did it. She opted for the pillory rather than possibly expose herself outside. I gave her three suppositories, taped her into a thick diaper and locked her into the pillory in our bedroom. I told her I would let her out after I finished the yard work.
About an hour later, while I was mowing the part of the yard furthest from the house, I saw her mother pull up and head for the door. I ran up to intercept her, but it was a big yard and took me a couple minutes to get there. By the time I got to the door, she had let herself in. I ran in the front door and found her in the kitchen. She said she had forgotten her cell phone after visiting that morning. As I showed her out, she commented that she thought someone had stepped in something and dragged it into the house, because it stunk so bad. Little did she know it was her own daughter’s diaper that was the smelly culprit. LOL
I just got this email from Tabitha about her first try at self bondage. She gave me permission to share it and I think some of you may have some insights for her. If you have any ideas or suggestions for future self bondage projects, please post them. She is looking forward to reading what you have to say.
I finally tried some of the self bondage you turned me onto. After reading some of the threads you suggested and going over some ideas in my head, I came up with a plan. Unfortunately, it didn’t quite turn out the way I had hoped…
The self release trick I decided on was to tie a string to a handcuff key with a big knot at the other end. This was routed around the chair in such a way that the end of the string was released, the key would fall low enough that my handcuffed hands could reach either the key or the string and unlock myself. The knotted end was placed under a large 44 oz cup of ice water with a long twisty straw that could easily be reached by my mouth.
The trick here was that in order to release the key to unlock myself, I would have to drink enough of the water in the cup that I could tip the cup over by manipulating only the straw. To ensure that I didn’t drink it too quickly and ruin the entire experience, I filled the cup with ice first. This way, regardless of how quickly I drank the water, I would still have to wait for the ice to melt and drink it as well.
I started off by inserting three suppositories into my ass to ensure a very messy diaper, followed by a thick bambino diaper with three of their stuffers inside. Next, I sat on the tall wooden chair I had prepared for this proceeded to tie my ankles to the legs of the chair and then tied a long rope around my midsection to keep myself seated. Once I was sure the key would fall correctly when the cup was moved, I handcuffed my wrists together behind the back of the chair.
It was already an uncomfortable position, so I got to work drinking the water and waiting for the ice to melt. After about twenty minutes, I could feel the suppositories working and the cup was only half empty. A few minutes later, I had a cramp in my bowels and began to fill the diaper. The thickness of the diaper prevented any kind of eruption, so it was just a slow release of poop. It actually made my ass burn a bit, which I guess was caused by the glycerine in the suppositories. I already wanted out, but the cup was still half full of ice. I spent the next hour trying to tip the cup over with the straw while I continued to mess my diaper further every few minutes.
After nearly two hours in this position, the cup was finally empty enough to tip over. However, the one thing I didn’t think of sent me into a panic. Because the cup was filled with ice, it had a lot of condensation on the outside. This dripped down onto the table and soaked the string with water. When the cup tipped over, the string didn’t budge. I nearly had a panic attack as I started tugging against my bonds. I really didn’t want to yell for help…
Luckily, after another hour, the puddle of condensation dried up enough to allow the key to drop and I was able to free myself. All in all, I think back at the experience fondly, but know that the next time I will need to find a more foolproof method.
Thanks again for giving me the idea! ;^)
I posted a letter from Addie a while back about her first experience with diaper punishment at my hands. We’ve had a couple more visits since then and she promised to write about them, but it appears she’s just too busy to do so. So, I will have to think of a special punishment for her laziness, but in the mean I wanted to relate some of the fun we’ve had the last couple visits.
The second time Addie came to see me, she told me about her ridiculously strong desire for pain and humiliation. I quickly found out just how true that was after giving her a particularly brutal spanking with the hairbrush. Her ass was purple and I was actually scared I was going to cause permanent harm, but she kept insisting I continue. After about 100 stroke, she began to moan and I could tell she was on the apse of an orgasm. I ran the brush between her legs and over her clitoris and she erupted into a violent orgasm that lasted several minutes.
She also told me about some fantasies she had of putting stinging nettles or poison ivy inside her diaper and then having it locked on for an extended period of time. Since both of those can cause serious medical problems, I told her that I wasn’t comfortable with doing any such thing. I did promise her something she would never forget the next time she came to visit.
By some bizarre coincidence, the day before that visit I had read about a thing called figging. Figging is where you take a hand of ginger, peel it and then trim it into the shape of a butt plug. You insert it into your sub’s ass and it burns like a hot pepper. Despite the burning sensation, it’s quite harmless and was used in the Victorian Era to prevent people from tensing their ass cheeks during a caning. You see, the ginger causes a burning sensation just being inserted into the ass, but it is amplified tenfold if you tighten your ass around it.
On our next visit, I locked Addie into the pillory and stripped her down. I gagged her to keep her from screaming, just in case. When I first inserted the ginger there was no reaction at all. However, a couple minutes later she was desperately trying to push it out by squeezing her sphincter, which just made it worse. The only thing left to do was just try to relax and wait for it to be removed. Of course I had no intentions of removing it right away. While still locked in the pillory, I fastened an extra thick cloth diaper around her waist with a stuffer strategically positioned to keep her from expelling the plug. I covered this with a pair of tight plastic pants to keep her from jamming her hands in through the leg hole and then a pair of locking plastic pants over that. Once they were locked into place, I let her out of the pillory and told her I would remove the plug after she scrubbed my entire kitchen floor on her hands and knees.
After about fifteen minutes, I wandered into the kitchen to check her progress and found her humping a chair trying to orgasm. It seems once the initial shock of the ginger wore off, she was just in heaven. I was glad she was enjoying herself, but I still needed to punish her for having an orgasm without permission. I will post about that another time… =)