Eight Days of Diapers – Part I: A Hanukah Wish

This story is written by WingZ

“So do you get presents every night?” That, along with “is there a Hanukah Bush?” was the extent of Andy’s friends’ interest in Hanukah, in the entirety of his faith, actually. And though Andy felt confident enough to answer – gifts were usually exchanged during the first two nights and there was no bush, just a menorah – there was plenty about his religion that mystified him. There was the Hebrew language with its harsh, guttural sounds and funky alphabet; the holidays whose names he mixed up and whose meanings were reduced to dietary prescriptions (dairy on Shavuot, hamantashen on Purim, nothing at all on Yom Kippur); the dozens of other things, large and small, which separated him from his friends, who were Episcopalian or Catholic and claimed Sunday as their day of worship and had no need for any tongue but plain old English. Andy was 12 now, his Bar Mitzvah less than a year away, and he could feel those differences creeping up on him, threatening to sever his tenuous grip on “normal.”

Deep down, however, he knew it was not his religion which risked turning him into a pariah, that he would feel the same anxiety if his last name were Smith instead of Greenbaum. It had to do with what he liked, which, he guessed, had to do with who he was. Take his bike, for instance. He had it since he was 7 and though he’d had to have the seat raised a few times, he liked it just fine when he was riding alone. It was familiar, comfortable, and reliable. When he rode with friends, however, it embarrassed him. It was clearly a kid’s bike, a blue single-speed Schwinn which once housed training wheels. His friends were all moving onto the mountain bikes and street cruisers which would carry them into their teens and Andy knew it would only be a matter of time before they grew tired of waiting for him to catch up.

It was the same thing with video games. Andy’s friends favored the Nintendo Wii and Andy thought it looked like fun…until he tried to play it. He was unable to master the Wii Remote’s motion sensitivity and his performance at Wii Sports was embarrassingly awful. In bowling, his balls spun right and struck gutter and in golf, he couldn’t stay out of the sand. “You just need more practice,” his friends told him. They encouraged him to ask his parents for a Wii of his own and Andy agreed, though privately he preferred the older, simpler gaming systems and did not look forward to sharing a Wii with his younger brother, Jake. So to fit in, Andy put down a new bike and a Wii on his Hanukah wish list, confident he could get one but not both, even though he really wanted neither.

What he really wanted was diapers. For the past few years, Andy longed to be put back in diapers, to be routinely checked and changed, to have no more concern for making it to the toilet than he did for having a job. The why of it eluded him. He did not struggle with continence growing up and he was not raised without love. All he knew was that no 12-year-old should want to wear diapers. If his Judaism made him different, that made him a full-blown freak. It shamed him deeply and he carried the weight of that shame alone.

But the shame did not deter him. Furtively, he browsed diaper sites on the computer he and Jake shared. He was desperate to find out more about his peculiar desire, to see if there were others like him. What he discovered blew his mind. There were pictures, stories, entire online communities dedicated to people who liked to wear diapers. It left Andy wondering how many “DLs” (diaper lovers) there were in the world. Hundreds? Thousands?

Visiting those sites had a strange effect on Andy. Initially, it made him feel even more ashamed. He knew some of the sites were meant for adults and he had no business looking at them. His face flushed with shame and some of the content he came across scared and confused him. At the same time, doing something he knew he shouldn’t be doing made him feel good. It was his own quiet way of standing up for himself and what he wanted.

On the teen forums, Andy found acceptance and a wealth of practical advice. He exaggerated slightly, claiming he was 14 instead of 12, but no one suspected otherwise. When he contemplated coming out to his parents about wanting diapers, a menagerie of posters advised against it. Some shared horror tales of awkwardness and familial dissension that lingered for weeks. Similarly, he learned that intentionally having “accidents” was foolhardy and that real diapers would be worth waiting years for.

Andy was always careful. He typed out everything he wanted to post in a Word document beforehand. That way, his progress would not be lost if he had to relinquish the computer to Jake or was called away unexpectedly. He cleared his browsing history regularly and never left browser windows open, not even when he stepped away to pee. It wasn’t foolproof, but Andy figured he could go on for quite awhile without getting caught. Jake was 7 and only cared about games, their mother didn’t know much more than word processing and their father always gave a heads up when he commandeered the computer to perform maintenance or install something.

The computer and the world of virtual diaperdom wasn’t as good as the real thing, but it was close as Andy thought he could get for now. In another few years, when he had a car and some money saved up and a lot more nerve, he would buy his own diapers and hide them and enjoy them when no one was around. In the meantime, however, he began clearing imaginary space in the garage or in front of the TV for the bike or the Wii and practiced his gracious smile for when he would undoubtedly receive them.

***

Hanukah started on a Friday that year. It would be over days before Christmas began, meaning Andy would not have off from school. Jake insisted this was a rip-off, but Andy knew better. All the important stuff happened at night anyway.

That Wednesday, Andy came home from school to find his father’s car in the driveway. This was not unusual – his father was a dentist and when his patients cancelled or no-showed their appointments, he headed home. Sure enough, he found his father seated at the kitchen table. His mother was there, too, and they both looked as if they’d been waiting for his arrival. They said they wanted to talk.

It could have been anything. It could have been more Bar Mitzvah planning or something about his brother, since they weren’t waiting until Jake got home in order to talk to him. Yet Andy couldn’t shake the feeling that his secret had been discovered. He felt his heart beat fast and hard in his chest and it took every ounce of self-control he could muster to not break down right there.

“What about?” he asked. He dropped his backpack by the door and pulled up a high-backed wooden chair.

“I needed to print up a list of odds and ends and last minute gifts,” his mother explained. “When I opened Word, what do you think I found?”

Andy felt like punching himself. He’d been in a hurry that morning and ended up hitting the off button on the computer instead of shutting it down like he was supposed to. That meant the next person to open Word would see a recovered document, his document. Normally, that next person was Andy himself – the middle school let out earlier than the elementary school and he always beat Jake home – but today it was his mother.

Of all the days to get caught, this was the worst. The post he’d started on that morning was in response to a Christmas wish list thread. Needless to say, he amended it to Hanukah. And needless to say, he put down diapers.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, staring down at the floor. His eyes focused on the gray swirls frozen in the white tile. The floor looked hard enough to crack a skull, but at that moment, he thought it would be softer than either of his parents’ faces.

“How long have you wanted this?” his mother asked. Slowly, Andy lifted his head. He was surprised to discover that his parents weren’t angry. They were concerned and a little bewildered, but not mad.

“A long time,” Andy replied. “I don’t know why. I kinda wish that I didn’t, but I do.”

His mother and father exchanged long glances, their eyes blank slates for Andy to project his anxiety. What if they try to have me sent away?, he thought. What if…

“Your mother and I talked this over,” his father said. “And I also discussed it with a doctor in my building, someone who works with children. We feel…” He paused, looking to his wife for confirmation, and Andy’s mother nodded with her lips pressed tightly together. “…that if this is something you want, something you really want, that we should let you have it.”

Andy couldn’t believe what he was hearing. His mouth fell open to issue a response, but it was as if he temporarily forgot how to speak. He managed to blurt out an “I” and let shocked silence fill its wake.

“It’s OK,” his mother told him, smiling now while she patted his back. He looked at her, at both of them, and wanted a “why,” only he didn’t, not if it cost him or complicated this most unexpected of victories. “We still love you.”

Andy relaxed slightly after that. The pressure was gone, but a lot of uncertainty remained. They said they would give him what he wanted, but for how long? Was there a catch? There had to be.

“What, exactly, am I getting?” he asked.

“Diapers for Hanukah,” his mother told him. “And you’ll be wearing them all eight days or until the package runs out. That ought to get this out of your system.”

Andy picked up on her subtle disapproval, but he didn’t care. He felt like he’d struck jackpot.

“Before you get too excited, you’d better be sure this is what you want,” his father cautioned. “It may not be all it’s cracked up to be.”

He knew what they were doing. For his parents, the diapers were a lesson. They probably figured he would get sick of them after a day or two and would want nothing more to do with them once the eight days were up. But Andy knew differently. This was a golden opportunity and he’d be an idiot not to take it.

“Yes, I want it,” he told them, practically giddy with excitement. “I want it a lot.”

This story is written by WingZ

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

So full – barkyaanarki

Yes i bet we all agree that this diaper has been pretty busy keeping your bed all dry and cozy. You sure have been a good boy and using your diaper instead of that scary potty.

Sagging soggy diaper – puppy_reese

Yes i think we all can agree that this Tykables Overnight diaper sure have done it job perfect here to handle all your accident during your sleep. Good thing you was such a good boy and put it on before you was visiting the dream land :)

Tricked into Diapers Chapters 15, 16 and 17

This story is written by tammie2

XV.

The summer seemed endless. Finally, one morning Nancy came in with some news. “Only three weeks until you go home, young man. I don’t think your mother would appreciate it if she had to start all over with you. It’s a big task, but I think we’ll be able to potty train you on time.”
Tom wasn’t sure how to react to this news. As badly as he wanted to get out of diapers, the prospect of a humiliating toilet training frightened him. He somehow had assumed that one day Nancy would simply end his torture by removing his diaper and handing him his clothes. Sadly, he realized that his control had deteriorated so much that he seldom even knew he was wetting or soiling himself until he felt he diaper bunch between his legs or press against his bottom. The chance of accidents at home, though, scared him even more than the humiliation of potty training.
No sooner had he convinced himself that toilet training wasn’t such a bad idea, however, than Nancy entered the room with a grotesque-looking potty chair. The seat was almost adult-sized, but it sat barely eight inches off of the ground. Beneath the hole in the seat rested a rounded pink plastic bowl. The back of the chair had little lambs and ducks dancing in the rain pasted to it. Tom couldn’t take his eyes off this monstrosity. He was big enough to use the regular toilet and began to say so to Nancy.
“Don’t be nervous, Tommie,” Nancy said sternly, ignoring his protests. “You’re not ready to start using the big-boy potty yet. First we have to keep track of your toilet habits.”
As she spoke, Nancy lifted up a very large cardboard poster board titled “Tommy’s Potty Chart.” The whole next week had been marked out on one side, with the time written in 15-minute intervals along the top. A felt-tip marker dangled from a string in one corner. Nancy hung the chart on the wall above Tom’s changing table.
“From now on, we’ll keep close track of every time you go pee-pee or poo-poo, baby. That way we’ll know when to put you on the potty with the best chance of success. Conditioning should take care of it from there. Of course…” here Tom could hear the smirk in her voice, “we’ll have to check your diaper much more often.
When she finished speaking, Nancy came over and put her hand down the front of Tom’s blue plastic panties. “Oh, my, aren’t you wet this morning. Time for a change.”
As she put Tom down on the changing table, Nancy leaned over and took the marker in her hand. Tom cringed as he watched her write next to the 8:30 a.m. entry , in large letters, “SOAKED.”
That whole week, Nancy and Lisa took every opportunity to check Tom’s condition, either by putting a hand or finger inside his panties or sniffing his crotch and bottom. At times, they checked him every ten or fifteen minutes. Any pride he may have had left vanished. If that wasn’t bad enough, his potty chart began to fill with notes and comments about when he was wet or soiled and even the amount of pee or poop each time. Lying in his crib, looking at the chart that revealed his most intimate functions, the humiliation was immense.
It was a great relief when Nancy announced that his training would begin. Lisa and Nancy each lifted Tom up from the crib, lowered his panties and diapers, and for the first time sat him on the potty chair. His knees came up to his shoulders and he had to squeeze onto the slightly undersized seat. It dawned on him that he hadn’t sat on a toilet seat for over three months.
“Come on, little Tommie, you can do it. Let’s hear a little tinkle for Mommy and Auntie Lisa.” Tom looked up at Lisa as she taunted him. He was sure she had deliberately chosen to wear a revealing halter top and short skirt as a tease. It seemed like years since she had moaned with pleasure at his passion. Now she saw his penis mainly as a tool that needed her help to urinate.
Tom wanted to pee, but the two women hovering over him urging him on and occasionally directing his penis down into the potty was too much. The embarrassment seemed to dry him up.
After five minutes or so, Nancy gave up. “Ok, baby, we’ll try again later. Let’s get those didies back on.” As Tom stood up and turned back toward the changing table, the release or tension relaxed his bladder. Within seconds, a gusher of pee streamed from him, soaking Nancy and leaving a puddle on the floor. Tom was horrified as Nancy glared at him, speechless, and Lisa howled with laughter.
“Man, he really got you that time! Are you sure he can’t control himself?” Lisa gasped, breathless with glee. Nancy said nothing as she cleaned Tom up, put a fresh diaper on and then placed him back into the crib. Five minutes later, a more solemn Lisa entered the room with a bucket and mop.

XVI.

Tom lay in the crib for half a day without being changed or placed on the potty. Nancy entered the room with bottles of formula but never spoke. Tom was too scared to say anything.
Finally, Nancy came in and stood by the side of the crib. She looked calm and spoke softly. “I shouldn’t have been angry earlier. Once I calmed down, I realized that you couldn’t have done that on purpose. You have no more control of your eliminations than any 12-month old. Now, what do you say we take off that smelly diaper and try the potty again?”
Tom nodded eagerly. As soon as he sat on the potty, he heard the tinkling of urine hitting the plastic guard and trickling into the bowl. He looked down, astonished and pleased. Nancy beamed and even bent down and kissed him. She took a silver star from her pocket and put it on his potty chart. “Gold is for BMs,” she told him, smiling. Tom was smiling, too, as Nancy re-diapered him, never once reflecting on how foolish he would have felt three months earlier at being proud of peeing into a bowl.
Within three days, Tom’s chart began to get more stars, silver and gold, than anything else. The women had begun to write “ACCIDENT” in big letters whenever he used his diapers, and the embarrassment of looking at these entries on the chart gave him even more incentive to regain control of his toilet habits.
When the chart finally began to show only two or three accidents daily, Nancy presented Tom with several pairs of brightly-colored training pants. Tom was so pleased to be out of diapers that he didn’t even complain that some of the panties were pink while others had little slogans stitched on the front or back, like “Slippery When Wet ” and “The Devil Made Me Do It.”
Tom’s freedom began to increase as he moved around the house, unencumbered by the thick cloth diapers he had worn for so long. He was permitted to walk, not crawl, and he began to feel more like an adult each day, with one notable exception. Whenever he felt the urge to go to the bathroom, he wasn’t allowed to go to the toilet on his own. He had to tell Nancy or Lisa, and then either bring the potty chair to them or have them go with him to the nursery.
One day shortly after his training began, Tom sat watching television when Sherry, Nancy’s friend, dropped by. Tom was able to ignore the chatter for awhile, but then felt an urgent need to urinate. He glanced at Sherry, hoping she would leave. Showing no indication that she would be departing soon, he got up and whispered in Nancy’s ear.
“Well, then, go get the potty chair and bring it here,” Nancy said in a loud voice. “And you’d better hurry, so that we don’t have a repeat of your accident this morning.”
Tom blushed as he ran up the stairs and got the potty chair. Returning to the living room, he avoided Sherry’s eyes as he set the chair on the rubber sheet Nancy had spread out on the floor. He stood still as Nancy undid his jeans and pulled them to his ankles, revealing pink training panties with white lacy trim. Tom quickly sat on the potty. Nancy kneeled beside him and held his penis in a downward position. No sooner had she done this than Tom’s bladder released, and the familiar splatter of pee onto plastic sounded loudly in the room.
“How wonderful!” Tom heard Sherry say, then cringed as the woman came up next to him. “You’ve grown up so much. It seems like only yesterday you were suckling from my breast in your dirty, smelly diapers. Now you’re wearing such pretty big-girl panties. Stand up and let me see.”
As Tom stood, a light odor of the yellow puddle beneath him rose to his nose. Nancy took the bowl out and showed it to Sherry, who gushed at the progress the “little baby” had made. As Nancy left the room to empty the bowl into the toilet, Tom stood before Sherry with his panties and jeans still at his ankles. He would be spanked if he pulled them up himself.
Sherry smiled at Tom’s awkward condition. “Let me help you,” she said. “My, these are pretty panties. Let’s check them, shall we? Let’s see, the front and crotch are dry, although I believe those little yellow stains show that you’re not quite a big girl yet. And, oh dear. You’ve soiled these panties recently, haven’t you? It’s so hard to get all those panty stains clean in the wash. You really should do better.”
Tom stood silently as Sherry buckled his pants, ignoring her comments about his still being a long way from ready to have the boys get into his panties. As she finished, Nancy entered the room. Tom fled to the laughter of the two women, more determined than ever to regain total control.

XVII.

Tom beamed when, only one day before his mother arrived to pick him up, he made it back into his own underwear and clothes. He hadn’t had an accident for almost two days. He felt confident and cocky, especially when Nancy and Lisa sat with him for an hour coming up with a story of how Tom spent his summer that he could use on his mother and his friends back home.
Tom ran to his mother’s car when she came to pick him up, anxious to leave and to return to some level of normalcy. He was disappointed when she berated him for his rude behavior and had him come back inside for a drink of tea with Nancy before they left. Finally, they were packed and on the road.
Nancy leaned against the front door as she watched the car disappear down the road. Soon, she found herself smiling. The effects of the powerful diuretic and laxative she had spiked Tom’s tea with would begin to be felt in about 45 minutes, just after the only stop on the tollway for over seventy miles. The way Tom’s mother drove, never going above fifty miles per hour, he wouldn’t come even close to making it. She laughed as she closed the door, anxious for the phone call she knew would come soon.

The end.

This story is written by tammie2

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Crinkle – yggiToryM

Someone sure have one squishy diaper here to play whit. It sure most be kind of awesome :) Wounder if the diaper still manage to handle everything or if it has starting to leak yet.

But one thing for sure it is always fun to be playing whit this kind of soggy wet diaper :)

Onesie is too big – yggiToryM

Maybe the onesies is to big for you but it sure makes for some very good and super cute onesie photos here.