Relaxing whit diaper – miamiabdl

http://guillaumetell75000.tumblr.com/post/176266797741/miamiabdl-diapered-in-texas

This type of nice photo rely make me wish that i was wearing some diapers. But the weather currently don’t allow it. The temperature is really high here in Sweden at the moment.

Exposure is clearly a turn on for this boy – boyonbdsm

http://boyonbdsm.tumblr.com/post/174689700415/boy-dy-006-exposure-is-clearly-a-turn-on-for

Yes it sure seems like wearing a diaper sure turn on this boy :) He sure seems to love wearing the diaper :)

Soggy Abri Form X-Plus – Baby Hen

Looks like its maybe time for this diaper boys daddy to start thinking about chaining his sons diaper before it start leaking. Looks like its starting to get pretty wet and well used.

The baby business Part 15

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

Mrs. Warren visited Doug around noon on Sunday, which was great for Doug’s plans. After she left, he watched the diaper van exit the apartment complex’s parking lot, and as soon as it disappeared, he ran upstairs and took off his diaper. He was going to leave it at home, but on second thought, just to be safe, he folded it carefully and decided to take it with him, on the off chance he saw Mrs. Warren on the way to the grocery store. He wasn’t going to take any chances. He pulled his jeans back up, and immediately noticed how strange not wearing a diaper felt after only a couple of days. It felt weirder, of course, because he didn’t have any underwear to wear, so his normally-insulated skin was in direct contact with his rough jeans. In addition, for the first time in fifteen years, he had no pubic hair, so he felt the odd sensation of breezes drifting through his crotch periodically.

But he had to hurry. He didn’t want to be out of his diaper for more than forty-five minutes this first time. It would be too horrible if she found out. Later, he might explore the limits of his freedom, but right now he wanted to play it very conservatively. So he took the spare diaper, grabbed his keys, and jumped into the car.

He drove carefully to the grocery store, keeping an eye out for pastel-colored vans, but as he expected, didn’t see any. He quickly made his way inside the store, grabbed a cart, and efficiently started collecting the items he needed. He was organized and fast; he wanted to take no chances.

He breezed through several aisles before seeing the one thing that could make his heart skip a beat. Mrs. Warren was in the store! He saw her near the cash registers, but she didn’t see him, he thought. She didn’t have a cart, so it appeared that she must just be looking for something specific. Suddenly it hit him. She was looking for *him.* He didn’t know how, but she’d found him. He peeked down an aisle and saw her crossing it at the other end. He knew what he had to try to do: guess where she was heading, and go the other way. He could still escape, get home, and get into a diaper before she caught him. It wasn’t a sure bet, but it was possible. He could be quite savvy in these situations.

But damn! How had she found him? And now he questioned why he had even taken this chance. His bottom tingled. He didn’t want to cross this lady again. He was still a little sore from the first spanking. Forty-five minutes out of a diaper was hardly worth this risk, he realized.

Thinking quickly, Doug reversed his direction and turned down an aisle, pushing his cart with urgency. He was halfway down the aisle, thinking he might actually make it past the registers and safely to his car, when Mrs. Warren suddenly appeared directly in front of him at the end of the aisle. How?…Doug froze in panic. Seeing him, she turned and strode toward him.

Doug began to feel queasy. What would happen now? He was in an extremely vulnerable situation: he’d snuck out of the apartment without telling her, and he wasn’t wearing his diaper. He feared the worst, and Mrs. Warren wasn’t one to disappoint.

“Well, Douggie, what a surprise it is to see you here,” she said with a hint of sarcasm. “Maybe we’ve forgotten some of our rules.” She paused, letting her eyes sweep over him in a quick, practiced assessment of his diaper status. Doug felt his body tense; he (correctly) surmised that she now knew that he was undiapered. He stared at her face, looking for any sign of this fact, but her expression didn’t change.

“Well, Doug, I know it’s early in your ICP, and there are a lot of rules to remember, so why don’t we go easy on you here?” she said, with just a little too much sweetness in her voice for Doug’s taste. “We’ll just play the Wet Bet and leave it at that. Okay? If you win, no punishment. If you lose, though, you lose.”

Doug mind swirled. The Wet Bet. He’d read about it, he knew. But what was it?

She read his mind. “I know you haven’t yet played this little game, so I’ll describe it for you. It’s very simple. I make a bet with you that you’re not wearing your diaper now. I know you’re a good little boy, so I’m sure I’m wrong, but you just need to prove it to me. So I ask you simply to wet for me right now. You pee, and then we see who wins the bet. If you win, and you’re wearing your diaper, then you only end up with a wet diaper that we can change very easily. If I win, and you don’t have a diaper on, that fact will become very obvious very soon. In that case…” Her voice trailed off, indicating the undesirability of that outcome.

“But either way, I have to insist you take the bet. Your only other option would be a particularly severe spanking right here in this aisle. Most of my boys don’t like their pants pulled down in public, so I don’t get to do that very often. They always take the bet.” She sort of smirked at him.

“Well, what’ll it be? You wanna take the bet?”

Now Doug was scared. She had him pinned against a wall, and she knew it. Wetting his pants in public versus a spanking in public. He’d had a spanking before, though, and decided that even public humiliation by wetting his pants be better than that. Anything would be better than a *public* spanking! He swallowed hard, as he realized he really had no choice. At least if he sucked it up and wet himself right now he’d avoid any other punishment. It would be humiliating, but it would be otherwise painless, and over very quickly. Then he could go right home and change. He stared at the floor and nodded.

She smiled cruelly, though he didn’t see it. “That’s a good boy. Now, here’s how we’ll do it. I’ll turn around, and you can start peeing. I’ll tell you to start, and then you pee for at least ten seconds. Then you’ll tell me when you’re done, and we’ll try to figure out who won. If your pants are dry, I’ll need to see your diaper, of course, to make sure you didn’t cheat. That would earn you a spanking, too.” She smiled that fake smile again as she said, “Of course, I’m sure you wouldn’t cheat.” He nodded nervously.

“Okay,” she said, turning away to pretend to look at some spaghetti. “Fire when ready.”

Doug glanced nervously down the aisle both ways. Not seeing anyone, he tried to relax and empty his bladder. He felt a trickle come out, and then more, so he said, “Okay.”

She said, “Okay, now ten seconds.”

Doug felt his urine rush out now. He really had needed to go. He watched in horror as his crotch darkened quickly, and then he shuddered as he felt hot pee flowing down his legs, soaking his jeans. (These were the same jeans, in fact, that he’d wet just last week in his bathtub.) The insides of his pants legs turned dark blue, and he felt his socks get warm and wet before he saw his tennis shoes flood and then overflow. It would be unmistakable to anyone who saw him what had just happened. By the time he figured ten seconds was up, he was standing in soaking wet jeans, in a small puddle on the floor.

In a weak voice, he said, “I’m done, um, Mommy.” (Maybe she wouldn’t make fun of him if he buttered her up.) He just wanted to go home and change his pants. They were already turning cold and uncomfortable.

But when Mrs. Warren turned and saw Doug in wet pants, her expression changed to one of anger, something he’d not seen since that first morning last week. He watched her with growing apprehension as she opened her large purse and pulled out what he recognized as one of his diapers. How did she know to bring one, he thought idly. And what was it for?

“Here,” she snapped. “You’ll need this.” She put the diaper in one of his hands and grabbed the other.

She yanked on his arm, dragging him with her in the direction of the registers. He tried to follow, uncertain of what was happening, but acutely aware now of his cold, wet pants. He hoped they were headed outside to the car, but his hopes sank as she led him up to the nearest register. Doug withered with embarrassment as moms and children turned and one by one saw him, wearing wet pants and holding a large diaper.

“Could you tell me where the little boys’ room is?” Mrs. Warren inquired of the young lady at the register. She looked about sixteen and had surprisingly large breasts. Doug couldn’t help staring at her blond hair and beautiful face. Mrs. Warren was not similarly mesmerized: “I’ve got one who needs his pants changed.”

The checkout girl’s eyes widened, and she nodded. “Yes, he sure does. He seems a little big to be having accidents.”

Mrs. Warren snorted with derision. “Well, he’s apparently not as big as he seems, is he?”

The girl took a moment to study Doug’s stained jeans. “No, I guess not. Well, that’s what the diaper’s for, right? Too bad for him he wasn’t in one earlier,” she giggled, seeing Mrs. Warren’s obvious anger at Doug. Noting the determination on her face as well, she added, “I bet he’ll wear one from now on. But anyway, the restrooms are in the back corner of the store. You can change him there.”

Doug could have died. He felt his face burn with embarrassment. Could this day get any worse?

“Thank you,” he heard Mrs. Warren say. “And I’m afraid this little boy also left a puddle in Aisle #3. If you give me a minute to get him dressed a little more appropriately, I can have him back out to clean it up in a moment.”

The girl nodded, staring hard at Doug’s pants, clearly trying not to laugh. “That’s fine, but you probably need to see the manager first. She likes to know about things like this, and she can get him a mop or something. Oh, by the way, if you need more diapers for him, we ARE having a sale on Attends down in Aisle 7.”

“Thanks, but we’re very well stocked already. Trust me, we have to be. Now, where is your manager?” The girl pointed at the other front corner of the store, so Mrs. Warren led Doug across the entire front of the store. They passed dozens of people in line to check out, and most of them turned and saw him. Doug started to feel lightheaded. This was horrible.

The manager was on the phone in the customer service area, so they had to wait a moment before talking to her. Mrs. Warren still had an iron grip on Doug’s wrist, and Doug instinctively struggled a little to get her to loosen her grip. At this Mrs. Warren wheeled around with fire in her eyes and swatted his bottom. Since it was damp and undiapered, this stung quite a bit, not to mention the added embarrassment it caused him. He was being treated like a two year old, and the worst thing was, with his wet pants and stinging bottom, he felt just like one, too.

“Don’t you mess with me, young man,” Mrs. Warren said loudly, so that she caught the attention of anyone in nearby lines who wasn’t already staring. “You’ve already done enough.”

“Evidently so,” said the manager, a stout stern-looking woman who had finished her phone conversation and was now studying Doug’s pants with a disapproving gaze. “Looks like you’re a little late with the diaper, young man.”

Mrs. Warren turned her attention to her, but kept a firm grip on Doug’s aching wrist. “Yes, ma’am. I was going to ask you if I could use your restroom to change his pants anyway. Afterward, I was hoping that he could clean up the little puddle he left in Aisle #3 himself, with whatever cleaning implements you might have.”

“Of course,” the manager said. “I’ll leave a bucket and mop in the back hallway for when he’s a little more properly attired,” she said, smiling at the diaper in Doug’s hand. “The restroom is back across the store in the rear corner. And ma’am?” the manager said as Mrs. Warren turned to drag Doug in that direction.

“Yes?” Mrs. Warren replied.

“I don’t mean to give unwanted advice, but while you’re back there, if I were you I’d give that boy’s rear end some attention with my hand. Look’s like he’s earned it.”

Mrs. Warren smiled conspiratorily. “Oh, you read my mind. I’ll apologize ahead of time if we’re rather, well, noisy.”

“No problem. Those rooms are pretty soundproof, and anyway, I’d bet the folks in the store would approve. He has to learn somehow.”

Doug didn’t have any time to speculate on what that exchange meant. He was so embarrassed he wasn’t very aware of what was happening anymore. He was now dragged at what felt like breakneck speed back past all the registers with lines of people whispering, down a side aisle, and to the back corner of the store.

They turned in a short hallway and gound a door marked “Restroom: Men/Women.” Mrs. Warren tried the door, but it was locked. She knocked, and a female voice inside said, “Just a second!”

So they waited. Doug nervously held his diaper and tried to ignore the cold wetness of his pants and the pain in his wrist. Mrs. Warren was silent, staring away from him. Doug wanted to know what would happen in that little room, he didn’t dare bother her. He assumed they would change his diaper and then come out and clean up the mess. He wasn’t looking forward to it. What would really happen would excite him even less, had he known. He spent his time telling himself how dumb he’d been, how he’d never sneak out or not wear his diaper again.

Finally, the door opened and a woman came out. She caught sight of Doug with wet pants and a diaper in his hand, and gasped. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “I didn’t realize I was taking so long.”

Mrs. Warren spoke up right away. “Ma’am, don’t blame yourself. This happened out there in the store because someone wasn’t wearing his diaper like a good boy. I just need the bathroom so I can remedy the situation.”

Doug was finally so embarrassed that he totally tuned out what was happening. He pretended he was somewhere else, and ignored this humiliating experience.

“Oh,” said the woman, with a a knowing look at Mrs. Warren. “Do you think he’s learned his lesson yet?”

“I don’t know,” Mrs. Warren replied, “but I’ll make sure, just as soon as I can get his pants down in there and turn him over my knee.”

The woman nodded sympathetically. “Well, good luck. Don’t go easy on that wet bottom, or he’ll never learn.”

“Don’t worry,” Mrs. Warren assured her. “He won’t forget this.”

The woman left, and Mrs. Warren pulled a distracted Doug into the small bathroom. She whipped him around and closed and locked the door, then let go of him. While Doug rubbed his wrist, Mrs. Warren sat down on the closed toilet seat. Doug waited to be told to put the diaper on.

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

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.

Bouncemaster 3000

https://ludisluteo.tumblr.com/post/175912808047/bouncemaster-3000

Aww poor diaper boy it sure seems like the Bouncemaster 3000 soon going to force him to be using his diaper for everything. I bet its going to force him to release one big stickies into the waiting diaper. Then he sure is going to be pretty humiliated.

The baby business Part 14

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

When Doug had spent several minutes soothing his hot, red bottom, he sat down in stunned amazement to consider what his life had suddenly been turned into. He thought of the mounds of diapers up in his room, destined to be worn and used by him in the near future. He thought of being forced to call Mrs. Warren “Mommy,” and essentially forced to do anything she told him to do. It was so humiliating. How could he possibly live with this?

But what could he do? he asked himself. He told himself over and over that he had no choice. That it didn’t matter how he got here and what he thought about it. He simply had to play baby now, or risk losing the rest of his life. It was unfair, and miserable, but he had to be realistic: it was his only option if he didn’t want to be the laughingstock of his family, friends, and colleagues.

He stared down at the bulky diaper he had sentenced himself to wear. Because he had gotten cute and self-righteous over the phone with Mrs. Sheffield, he was now going to wear the thickest, loudest diaper ever. It would undoubtedly be noticeable, and even more embarrassing was how much he had contributed to this situation. If he hadn’t gone into the store, if he hadn’t lied about being incontinent, if he hadn’t lied about wanting such an unmanageable diaper, if he hadn’t agreed to the incontinence test….there were so many ways he could have avoided this, he thought. But at every step, he’d made the wrong move, and now he ws stuck in huge, noisy diapers. It was so thick he couldn’t even masturbate through it, even if that was allowed.

But, of course, he had been operating under the assumption that this was a game of which he had control. He now knew differently, but it was too late. This diaper service was a business, and a serious one at that. And he had just contracted them to enslave him in diapers. He snorted. It sounded like a dream come true. But he knew, or thought he knew, what it would really be like. His bottom knew. It was a nightmare.

He told himself he had to take this situation day by day. If he tried to deal with the whole thing, he’d get too depressed. But if he only thought about the next day, he could get through. Tomorrow wouldn’t be too bad. In fact, this week wouldn’t be too embarrassing, since he was studying at home alone. This was almost what he had intended for this weeks, anyway. No one had to know. Next week would be interesting, though, when he went back to work. How would he ever keep his co-workers in the dark? Bulky clothes, he mused… His real life would be quite a challenge.

For the next day, though, his job was easy. Study as much as possible from his GRE Review Book, and, in the words of Mrs. Warren, “be a good little boy.” He actually didn’t care how ridiculous that sounded: right now, and for as long as his bottom kept hurting, he was happy to wear his diaper compliantly, and do anything else he needed to. He wasn’t interested in risking another spanking right now.

Doug was surprised to find his diarrhea clearing up fairly quickly that afternoon. Mrs. Warren was right again, he thought. He didn’t like to admit it, but she seemed to know everything. Of course, he would have been angry at how gullible he’d been, if he’d known how she knew when his BMs would slow down.

And as his diarrhea slowed, he noticed that his diaper consumption was slowing as well. He thought about this idly during dinner. He had a diaper quota to fill, and in the interest of remaining pain-free, he would try to fill it properly, at least in the short term. He calculated his usage for the week at his new, slower rate, and realized he’d be hard-pressed to wet enough diapers. And if he didn’t, he knew what awaited him. So he began to drink more that evening. This, he only half noticed, had the effect (desired by Mrs. Warren) of his spending more and more time in partially-wet diapers, as he conscientiously waited to saturate them fully.

By the next day, Thursday, Doug was consciously starting to relax his sphincter control, wetting whenever he felt the urge. His diapers held almost anything, and as long as he had the opportunity to relax and not worry about control, why not? It wasn’t like it was important whether he tried to hold it back or not. The rules didn’t reward him for that! So who needs it? If I have to be a baby, I might as well take advantage of it, he thought. It’s the only perk, after all.

On Thursday, for the first time, Doug felt the need for the first time to have a real, formed BM. This was another little landmark for him, since it involved using his diaper for an “optional” mess: it wasn’t like the diarrhea, where he was controlling an emergent situation. It also necessitated wearing the diaper for some time afterward, in an obedient attempt to make the diaper appear “fully used.” It usually felt good, but today, as he squished around in his full pants, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he was being forced to do this, to wear his poop-filled diaper. Mrs. Warren was *making* him do this, and for some reason (embarrassment?) this took away much of the pleasure he usually derived from wearing his messy diaper.

Mrs. Warren stopped by occasionally, and was pleased when she checked Doug’s diaper, diaper pail, toilets, and tub. She acknowledged his good behavior with a sticker on his refrigerator, about which she said he should be proud. He found it difficult to get excited about a sticker. It was just one more embarrassing element to this absurd program.

Mrs. Warren had expected this good behavior. It was typical of her new boys for the first few days, what she called the “honeymoon” period. Their bottoms still stung, and the potential humiliation of the photos was still fresh in their minds. They also weren’t yet bored with the program, and hadn’t had enough time to build up a huge amount of sexual tension.

Doug did come up with some questions for Mrs. Warren, however, as he found minor problems with the ICP. How, for example, was he supposed to blow his nose if she had forbidden all paper products from his apartment? It was easily solved, Mrs. Warren said, by using an old-fashioned handkerchief, which, like his other laundry, was to be inspected by her before he took it to the complex’s laundry room. Working out details to another problem, Doug agreed to shave himself every other day to keep his bottom and groin smooth. On Friday, he did this for the first time, and found that it wasn’t too difficult, except for his ego.

Saturday was the day of his big test, Mrs. Warren showed up at his apartment early in the morning to see him off. She presented him with a large, pink pastel diaper bag, which he was not so pleased to receive. It was so frilly and infantile that it could not be mistaken for anything other than what it was. He pled his case to her that it was just too embarrassing to take out in public, but Mrs. Warren said that it was more important to be prepared properly than to be socially comfortable, and she therefore wouldn’t accept his excuses.

This brought up an issue Doug hadn’t considered before. Surely there would be times when he’d have to change himself in public, but how was this possible if he wasn’t allowed near restrooms? It wasn’t so hard, said Mrs. Warren. First of all, any time he went out, he should already have informed her, so that she or a babysitter could watch him. If the possibility of needing a change existed, they would know about it, and could appropriately interpret his usage of a bathroom. If he used it to change himself, he should naturally have a used diaper to show for it, and this could be checked when he arrived home. He was, however, warned that any trip to a public restroom would be carefully watched and, often, timed. Some of his “babysitters” might even be male and could follow him in. Any activity conspicuous for masturbation or using a toilet would be punished as such. As long as he hurried and was a good boy, he’d be okay.

So he went off with his pink diaper bag to take his test. It lasted through lunch, and he found that by restricting fluids, he didn’t have a problem needing a change. This was a relief for him. No one even noticed his bag, or his bulky bottom, or his waddle, or his rustling, probably because everyone was so preoccupied with the test. Doug came home from the test impressed with his academic performance, considering all the stress he’d been under during the preceding week.

With the test finished Saturday night, though, Doug started thinking about the future. He was worried about going grocery shopping tomorrow, his first errand outside his apartment wearing diapers. He also started thinking more long-term, and he was already tired of wearing these huge diapers. It was a pain. He never thought he’d miss the convenience of the toilet, but he was starting to. He’d never been in diapers for so long at one time, and it was wearing thin. In addition, there was also the growing problem of his mounting sexual appetite. He hadn’t come in several days, and that was just about a record for him. Plus, he wasn’t excited about resuming his public life on Monday when he went back to work. Hiding these bulky diapers might be impossible, and would at the very least be a huge social burden he’d have to deal with constantly.

All in all, he was beginning to feel far less obedient than he had over the past few days. He was starting to see that, just as he’d feared, he couldn’t live this life constantly. It wasn’t practical or desirable. If he was going to cope, he’d have to figure out some ways to cut corners, to express his independence in little, harmless ways, and to maintain a vestige of his former autonomy.

He mulled this over in his head, before forming a plan for tomorrow. He needed groceries. He assumed he’d be followed, or something, but he wondered how Mrs. Warren would follow him if she didn’t know he’d left. What if he left right after she visited tomorrow? She never returned right away. She’d never know. And if she didn’t know, he could venture out without his diaper, and not risk embarrassment tomorrow at the store…

It made him a little nervous to think about, but it had to work, right? If he was scared, he could always take along a diaper in the car, into which he might be able to change quickly if he somehow met Mrs. Warren on the way there or back. And he’d hurry, to cut down further the chance of being discovered. The risk, he knew, had to be miniscule. And the symbolism, and implications for later, were enormous to him. If he could poke a little hole in her regime, there might be other opportunities later. His life might end up being manageable after all.

Doug went to sleep Saturday night excited, with the first bit of hope about the future that he’d had in days. As he settled into bed, feeling the now-familiar thick cushion between his legs, and hearing the omnipresent crinkling of his diaper, he could hardly wait until for what the next day would bring.

If he’d been able to see what would really happen, however, he wouldn’t have wanted ever to wake up.

Copyright (c) 1995 by Babydoc.

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.