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I remember well the first time I realised how wonderful nappies were, the morning which changed my childhood memories from sorrow and shame to great happiness. I woke up this one morning, just before my 11th birthday, in wet nappies and plastic pants, and for once I felt entirely happy, and aroused, and since then I’ve never looked back.
Up until then, night-time had been a torment for me. I was never dry at night. The sheets and my pyjamas were always soaked in the morning. It was horrible. My mum was fed up with it because of the washing, and though I was never smacked for it I knew how she felt about it -she had a bedwetting son and somehow it was her fault. I think that she kept expecting me to grow out of it, but I had no idea how to stop. I was a whiney little boy who cried easily and wet my bed every night (and sucked my thumb), and I was miserable. By this time I was about eight I had a little baby brother who, of course, wore cloth nappies (this was the 60s, no disposables) all the time. My mum was talking with her friend one day when I was in the room. Mum was putting the nappies on to Adam, and talking about how I was such a problem what with all the washing. “Well,” said her friend, “why don’t you just put him back in nappies at night? I mean if he’s not dry it’ll make it much easier for you.....” I was horrified, but didn't say anything - I don’t remember what mum said, but she obviously decided to try it, because the night after when I came in to get into my pyjamas for bed, there they were lying set out - a nappy, and plastic pants, just like my baby brother.
I remember screaming and shouting that I wouldn’t wear them, but then I was grabbed and smacked hard (the only time I ever got smacked for anything connected with wetting). I was held down and pinned into the nappy, then as I sobbed and sobbed my mum told me that she was fed up with the wet sheets and all the bedding and that if I was going to wet like my baby brother then she would treat me like him. She pulled up the plastic pants and then put on my pyjamas. I cried and cried. I kicked off the nappies and pants when she’d gone, but then a bit later my mum came back and found them, smacked me once more, pinned me in again and told me what a hiding I would get if I ever tried to take my nappies off again.....I popped my thumb into my mouth and sobbed some more, then I fell asleep.
Well, obviously the bedwetting didn’t stop. I hated the nappies, but after the first night didn’t put up any resistance. Looking back on it I don’t know why I hated them so much; after all, the bed wasn’t uncomfortable in the morning any more, but I just hated being treated like a baby, especially when, as she usually did, my mum would change me and Adam (and then my little baby sister Sarah) for bed at the same time. Also, my cousins soon found out about it and I got teased, and once at school my brother told people and I was called nappy boy, once or twice - though I don’t remember the kids were that bad to me. Actually I’m inclined to think that I’d got a little used to it by the time I reached that morning. Perhaps I’d begun to accept it, though I didn’t know it at the time.
Anyway, cut to this morning in 1969, just a few days before my 11th birthday. I woke up to blazing sunshine, and a lovely spring day outside. And I felt...great. Just great. Why was that? I put my thumb in my mouth. Why did I feel so nice? Then I felt the nappies, and a stiffy inside them. Why, they felt really nice! I had probably just wet them - it was very early - and this had woken me up but....I’m sure for the first time they felt really good. They were tight, and damp, and warm, and when I wriggled I could feel the plastic pants, and hear the crinkling. But I knew I hated the nappies, and yet they felt so right - hell they were brilliant, how come I had never liked them before? I remember looking under the covers at the nappies showing through the thick, semitransparent pants, and feeling so pleased and happy. For the first time in my life I had woken up wet, and in nappies like a baby, and I loved it, it was awesome, and to think that I had never liked it before! Well, I must have turned over on to my belly and stated humping the nappy, because it wasn’t long before I was having my first, shuddering orgasm, nearly eleven, in my wet night time diapers...
And ever after that morning, I have loved wearing nappies. I would snuggle down in my bed, and sometimes hump myself then, but best of all was to fall asleep, then wake up wet, and then do it. I soon discovered that I could use my hand, of course, and then after a while came the other stuff. And sometimes I would wet the already wet nappy..... My mum noticed gradually because I had this idea that I was doing something naughty so at first I pretended not to like it still at bedtime, but on my eleventh birthday night I must have seemed eager because my mum said: “well you seem very happy these days! You don’t seem to hate the nappies so much...and I was thinking that now that you’re 11 we should take you out of them...would you like that?”
Oh God no! I’d just got to like them and now she was going to take them away!
I tried not to look disappointed but said basically, that “I wasn’t sure I’m quite ready...after all the bed’s dry in the morning and I think I’m sort of used to them...”
Anyway the thing was, she carried on with the nappying, and I carried on wetting the bed and the nappies, and carried on being very happy. And not only did I like the nappies but I liked the bedwetting too - I was the happiest bed wetter in the whole town!
Well when I was about 13 I began to fancy girls and my masturbation fantasies changed a bit, and I kind of stopped wearing them when I was 15 (by now I nappied myself as I didn’t like it when my mum saw me with an erection) the bedwetting was no longer every night either. Then when I was about 18 it seemed to just stop, which was fine.
One night in my early 20s I wet the bed I was sleeping in with my girlfriend - end of girlfriend, but sudden remembrance of wet beds and nappies....I found with some difficulty a supplier of nappies and plastic pants, and was soon back in them again most nights.
I carried on wearing them at night and thinking I was weird until I was in my late 30s - that’s when I discovered the internet and that there were lots of others like me. As soon as I knew it was OK I went back to it with a vengeance. I bought lots of stuff and concentrated hard on proper bedwetting again. I recorded a self hypnosis tape, relaxing my bladder and telling myself how much I loved it - and soon, within about a month, I was effortlessly wetting myself every night, as I had when I was a teen.
That’s where I am now. I do wet every night - I can’t help it. When I wake up in the morning it feels lovely. I totally accept that I’m just a nappied bedwetter, and always will be. Sometimes I wear nappies during the day too, but at the moment I don’t quite want to go to full-time wetting, because of the inconvenience. I’m quite open about my bedwetting - all my family, and any girl friends know, and every morning when I wake up in my wet nappies and plastic pants I am carried back to that day in 1969 when, in one little moment, everything I had previously hated became lovely, and for the first time in my life I was proud to be a nappied bed wetter.
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