The recent letters from guys sharing their stories of how their family were open to their fetish had inspired me to pen my own letter. I would just like to point out ahead of time, that whether you believe my story or not it is quite true.
I grew up in the 80s and 90s. In 1992, I was 14 years old and was taken from my mother by child protection services. She had a very bad drug problem and the neglect was severe enough to warrant my removal from her home. I was also something of a troublemaker with multiple arrests for shoplifting, fighting and vandalism. At this point in my life, I had already developed a bit of a diaper fetish. I can’t say for sure where those desires came from, but they were very strong.
After being taken from my mother, I spent a few weeks in a group home before being taken to live with a foster family. Angela was the woman that lived in the house and I was told I would meet her husband when he returned from a business trip in a couple weeks. It turned out her husband had moved out and she needed the foster parent money to pay the bills.
She was rather nice, but I was a rebellious punk and didn’t care. I took full advantage of her and the used the information I had as leverage. I would often stay out all night and come back at 3 or 4 in the morning. If she tried to intervene, I just told here I would rat her out to CPS for lying about her husband.
Almost as soon as I had moved in, I found a good place in my room to hide adult diapers. I stole a package of Attends from the drug store, which I would wear any time I had the opportunity. To make sure Angela wouldn’t walk in on me, I would push the dresser in front of the door. She suspected I did so to hide drug use, but I didn’t care what she thought.
A few months later, I got caught stealing diapers and they called Angela to pick me up. She agreed to pay for the diapers and then we went home. I was embarrassed and on the way home, I told her I was stealing the diapers to use as a prank on a friend. When we got home, she told me that she knew all about my diaper fetish. She had found my stash of diapers and porn in my bedroom when she was searching for drugs. At that point, I was ready to run away and my face was beet red with embarrassment at being found out.
I wasn’t sure what to expect, but Angela told me she really wanted to help me get my life on track. She told me that if I worked really hard to straighten out my life and work harder in school, she would help me to realize my fantasies. At first I thought it was a trick, but she continued her speech about how she would keep me in diapers and punish me in the ways I had written about in my stories.
She gave me a few minutes to think about it as she went into my room and grabbed the baby powder from my stash and one of my leather belts from the closet. When she returned, she told me it was time to make a decision. If I was willing to make a positive change, she would give me the spanking I deserved and then put me in a diaper. If I was unwilling, then I could do as I wanted but she wouldn’t be there to bail me out the next time I got into trouble.
Despite the humiliation, or perhaps because of it, I whispered that I was willing to make a positive change. She said she was happy to hear it and told me to remove my pants and underwear and bend over the back of the couch. I did as I was told. Angela positioned herself behind me and gave me the first stroke of the belt. It hurt, but I could handle it. She paused for a moment to judge my reaction before proceeding to administer another 24 swats. It hurt like hell, but it was also exciting.
After the spanking, she had my lay on the floor where she placed a diaper under my butt and then sprinkled baby powder all over my ass and crotch. She fastened the diaper tight and then told me to go stand in the corner and think about the days to come.
I spent about an hour in the corner thinking about what I had gotten myself into. It was exciting, but what about public humiliation? Would I be exposed to my friends or at school? Angela pulled me gently from the corner and gave me a big hug. She hugged me for several minutes while she explained the rules.
– I would be diapered at all times, even at school, and the toilet would be off limits. Only Angela was allowed to change my diapers. I could not change myself.
– She would do nothing to expose my secret to others unless I gave her reason to do so. Appropriate reasons would be anything involving the police.
– If I needed a diaper change at school, I would just go to the nurse’s office and ask them to call her. She would leave word with the school that I had a condition that was private and might need her attention. That way I wouldn’t have to tell them why I needed to call her.
– I had two specific friends she didn’t want me to hang out with. They were known troublemakers. If I was caught hanging out with them, she would invite them over to watch me have my diaper changed.
– Homework had to be finished by dinner time or I would receive a spanking at bed time diaper change. The severity of the spanking would depend on how long after dinner it took me to finish.
Those were the rules specific to my diaper discipline, but there were other normal rules that didn’t need to be outlined here. By the time she was finished explaining all of this, I had broken down into tears. It was the first time I had ever cried happy tears. It was the first time anyone had ever cared enough to do something like this for me and I was determined to make it work.
The transformation from juvenile delinquent to a proper young man was almost immediate. Angela and I created quite a bond and I became a straight A student. I never got into any legal trouble again and was never subjected to public humiliation. In fact, I did so well Angela instituted a mandatory weekly maintenance spanking. Every Saturday, we would go out to breakfast and discuss the week. I would tell her about any hardships I was having at school and she would determine how many swats it would take to get me back on track. It was usually around 30-50 swats, which I would receive immediately upon returning home from breakfast. I would then spend an hour in the corner contemplating my spanking. This, of course, was followed by a long hug and a good cry.
Even though the foster money went away when I was 18, I continued to live with Angela. She helped me get through college and I used my student loans to keep us afloat. After college, I started my own business drop shipping products online. Angela and I switched from the role of adopted mother/son to husband and wife. She is fifteen years older than I am, but it doesn’t matter. I’m still her diaper boy to this day and I owe her my life.
And that is how consensual diaper discipline saved my life…