I need to preface this letter by pointing out that I really dislike self-pity explanations. That being said, I never knew my father and my mother was a raging alcoholic. Growing up, I had very little. Up until I was 12, my aunt lived with us and she was more of a parent than my mother. She wasn’t perfect, and they fought constantly about taking care of me, but at least I was clothed and fed. When my aunt met a guy, she moved to another state and I was left alone with my drunk mother. Right away, I became the parent and constantly had to make sure my mom would eat.
With nobody around to pay them, the bills began to pile up and the house fell into foreclosure. It was about this time that I began to notice the attention the boys at school paid me. Puberty was a huge boon for me, giving me C cups and a petite body. It didn’t take me long to realize the boys would give me things just to spend time with me. And if I let them kiss me or fondle my tits, they would do anything I asked. Basically, I was a prostitute of sorts by the time I was 13.
Of course, this behavior drew the attention of teachers – boys fighting over me didn’t help. CPS was called and they sent me to stay in a home for a while. It was more like a detention center with the types of rules usually reserved for prison inmates, but at least I was fed properly. I lived there for a few months until they found a foster family to take me in.
The foster parents I was sent to(James and Bevin) live with were quite nice. I expected much less based on the stories I had heard from other foster kids, but they just seemed like a normal middle aged couple in the suburbs. It also turned out I was their first foster child, so I didn’t have to deal with other kids.
Life improved drastically and after a couple years, I was doing well in school and working on learning to drive. A month before my 16th birthday, Bevin had a family emergency and had to travel out of state for a week. The afternoon she left was the first time I ever had even an inkling that James had a thing for me.
While we were eating lunch, he told me some long derived story about how he had always wanted a baby, but Bevin was sterile. At first, I didn’t understand why he was telling me all of this, but then he straight up made me an offer. If I agreed to be his baby for the week that Bevin was gone, he would buy me a car for my upcoming birthday. When I asked him how I could possibly be a baby, he explained that he just wanted to put me in diapers, feed and bathe me, etc.
I was quite embarrassed by his offer. At 15, the idea of wearing diapers was about as humiliating as anything I could think of. I knew I should have said no, but that side of me that enjoyed manipulating boys to get what I wanted came out. When I opened my mouth to speak, even I was surprised when I simply asked what kind of car.
He told me that Bevin was going to get a new car and that instead of trading in her Toyota, he would give it to me. Suddenly his promise didn’t seem empty and I knew how badly I wanted a car. Almost without thinking, I agreed to his offer with a simple “Okay”.
His face almost looked like it was going to break in half from the huge smile that crossed his face as he stood up and held out his hand. I took hold of his hand and he led me to their bedroom. I watched as he removed a footlocker from the closet and opened it to reveal piles of huge diapers, folded clothing, baby bottles, pacifiers and tons of other stuff. He grabbed a bottle of baby powder and a purple colored disposable diaper and set them on the bed.
I instinctively pulled back when he reached out to unbutton my jeans, but I stopped myself and let him strip me from the waist down. I felt incredibly vulnerable as he easily lifted by the hips and sat me down on the unfolded diaper. When he pushed back to a lying position, I blushed hard and felt blood rushing to my head.
He grabbed both of my ankles in one hand and lifted them up until my ass was a few inches above the diaper. Baby powder was sprinkled all over my ass and the smell filled the room. My legs were then lowered, but spread apart and more powder was sprinkled all over my groin. After putting the powder down, he pulled the diaper up between my legs and fastened the double tapes on each side.
James took my hands and helped me to stand. The bulkiness of the diaper seemed bizarre, but no really uncomfortable. Mostly, I was just embarrassed to be wearing it. As I stood there contemplating my situation, he removed my shirt and left me standing there in my bra and diaper while he rummaged through the footlocker. It only took him a moment to find what he was looking for. As he pulled a new shirt over my head, I looked down to see the front of it had the Pampers logo and it said “I’m a Pampers Kid”.
At that point, he explained the rules. The toilet was off limits and I simply needed to tell him when I needed my diaper changed. I had to drink only from a baby bottle and needed to ask him to prepare it for me when I was thirsty. Baby food would be fed to me for breakfast, but I could feed myself normal food for lunch and dinner. And he would bathe me after every poopy diaper. The final rule was one that I was completely on board with – nobody should ever know about any of this.
That week was mostly uneventful. I had a hell of a time actually messing the diaper, but managed to make it happen after holding it for so long I no longer had a choice. I had a total of three messy diapers the entire week and James was quick to change me, so it wasn’t too horrible of an experience. And as inappropriate as the entire situation was, James never overstepped any boundaries. Even when bathing me, he used a thick sponge and his hands did not stray. Bevin was none the wiser when she returned and everything went back to normal.
On my 16th birthday, they threw a big sweet 16 party for me and then gave me the keys to the Toyota in a wrapped jewelry box. All of my friends were jealous and I felt like I was on top of the world.
Over the next couple years, I used the event with James to my advantage. Now knowing about his interest, I began to use it to get other things from him. No, I didn’t blackmail him. I would just occasionally ask him to diaper me when Bevin was going to be gone for a while. Then I would lay on the floor at his feet and do my homework until I had to pee or poo. I would then ask him to change my diaper, and use that opportunity to ask for favors. Like, he would be in the middle of wiping my butt and I would ask to ‘borrow’ $50 for gas and movies with my friends. He always said yes.
When I turned 18, they were no longer obligated to care for me, but they helped me get scholarships and grants for school. The company Bevin worked for gave me a huge college grant, which allowed me to go the school I really wanted. They signed the car over to me and kept me on their insurance for four years while I was at school.
Being a thousand miles away and overwhelmed by school, I realized that I rather missed my time with James and the comfort and security that our secret meetings gave me. In fact, it was only halfway through the first semester when I realized I wanted nothing more than for someone to put me in a diaper and take care of me.
It was also at that point that I realized how sexual it had become for me. I would often lay in bed masturbating to the thought of James changing my diaper or bathing me after a big mess. Wanting to feel that security again became my primary focus.
Deciding to order diapers from the internet was a huge step for me, but it was also when I discovered the entire AB/DL community. I Googled ‘adult diapers’ and was greeted with tons of AB/DL sites intermixed with actual incontinence supply stores.
It was through one of these sites that I discovered another diaper loving girl went to the same school. After reaching out to her, we became fast friends online and after a few weeks we finally decided to meet. When Amber and I met, we both realized we had a class together and had seen each other many times.
Amber helped me to expand my kinks by showing me things I never knew. I discovered very quickly that I love being spanked. Other types of pain are not my cup of tea, but Amber loves anything and everything that hurts. The funny thing is, I can take a much harder spanking than she can, but pain in any other area of the body and she wins hands down.
At this point, I would love to find a Daddy Dom, but finishing my education and starting my career are more important. In the mean time, I have Amber and that is plenty for me right now. We have a lot of play time and I find myself wearing diapers about 75% of the time.
So that is my story. I realized how inappropriate my introduction to the fetish was, but I promise you it was welcomed by me. I do not consider myself an abused foster child or anything of the sort.
– Sierra –