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I have been wearing diapers my entire life 24/7 with the exception of bathes, diaper changes, certain medical exams, and when I was being punished. I should probably tell you now that the truth of my story is in many ways more bizarre than anything I could make up. The first bizarre fact that makes my story what it is, is that both my parents have been wearing diapers as long as I can remember. My dad is a diaper lover and my mother is an adult baby. I can't imagine that to people like that would find each other before the Internet, especially in a city of 45,000 in which they lived. My mother is a teacher at our local college and my father is computer technician for a major insurance company.
The first thing I can remember about my life in diapers was at the age of 6 when my younger sister, who was 5 at the time, asked why we were still wearing diapers when our neighbors and friends didn't. Our parents sat down with us in the living room and explained to us that some people choose to wear diapers and others choose not to wear them. Our parents wanted us to have the choice to wear diapers or not to wear diapers because they did not. Now, I didn't realize at the time why the choice was so important to them, although I do now. The only other thing I remember from when I was six that is relevant to the story is that I decided to stay in diapers, and my sister, who had friends pressuring her, decided not to stay in diapers. My sister, Kelly, was accident free 24/7 by the time she started Kindergarten.
My parents and the school nurse helped my keep my incontinence (as she called it) quiet until I was about 10 years old when my sister unthinkingly mentioned that I wore diapers to one of her friends in school who had a sister in my grade who proceeded to tell her friends and so on until everyone knew that I was still in diapers. She felt guilty about it for years after it happened. Within a month of everyone finding out I dropped out of public school for three years. I was re- enrolled in a private school for kids with disabilities. Most had learning disabilities like blindness and deafness, and some had physical disabilities like seizures, paralysis, missing legs, muscular problems, etc. Very few were truly slow people. Some were in fact quite intelligent and they were all accepting people. It was here that I met my best friends to this day: David, who had been partially paralyzed on the left half of his body since birth (I always forget what it's called), and Adam, who was incontinent from a childhood accident. Both were very intelligent people who, like me, just didn't fit in quite well with the "other kids" as we called the kids who made fun of us at public schools.
By that time, my parents had made my sister start changing my diapers as her punishment for exposing me at school and for becoming increasingly more arrogant around me because she didn't wear diapers. Little did she know at that point in her life that she was the only one in family who wasn't wearing diapers. By the time I started at the Private School, Kelly was changing me everyday before and after school. I was very reluctant to let her change my diapers at first but my mother told me that in her house, I followed her rules. I of course put up a verbal fight with her, having had a taste of independence when she stopped bathing on my 10th birthday. The argument didn't go my way at all. That night was the first time my mother ever used my diapers to punish me. She did so by taking them all away. She left me with only my plastic pants to wear for the entirety of that Saturday. If I made a mess anywhere in the house whether pee or poop I had to clean it up. Thus I ended up spending most of the weekend sitting on a toilet pouting like a toddler.
Saturday night my dad came home from a business trip and was in a good mood until he heard about my unruly behavior and the way I was being punished. My sister was over at a friend's house for a sleepover. I remember my dad taking my mom into their bedroom and overhearing him scold her and say something like "You've been a bad girl." A minute later I heard load smack come from their room that was repeated several times. I heard my mom sobbing quietly between smacks. I was disturbed to say the least, so I slid on my last pair of clean plastic pants and to tide me over long enough to sneak up to the only half closed bedroom door where my parents were. What I saw changed my life. On the bed was my mom wearing only a shirt (and bra) getting her diaper changed by my dad. The wet terry diapers that she had been wearing previously were rolled laying on the floor next to the bed. As I recall, she was still sobbing softly and her eyes were wet with tears but she seemed happy as she watched my dad diaper her. They were talking about me through the whole process. It wasn't until my dad was sliding on the pull plastic pants over my mother's fresh diapers that it occurred to me why she always changed into knee high dresses within 15 minutes of dad getting home when she wore slacks to work every day. As I was putting all these things that my mother did at home over the years together my mother saw me at the door.
To make a long story short three important things happened that night. The first is that I found out my dad liked to wear diapers and did so 24/7 because he had slowly lost bladder control. I found out that my mom liked to act like a baby from time to time and wore thick terry diapers at home every night and on weekends while my dad changed her and gave her bottles and toys to play with at night when my sister and I were sent to bed early for what seemed like no apparent reason (until now). The second is that my mom would never take my diapers away again as long I followed a few simple rules. The third thing that happened that night was the creation of some new rules for me. The first was that my sister would be the only one who could diaper me at home until I turned 14 unless no one else was available (this would make me and my sister to get along or this rule could become miserable for the both of us). The second rule was that from now on I would wear terry cloth diapers from 7:00 PM to 7:00 AM every day. The third rule was that I was not allowed to change myself under any circumstances until I turned 18. The fourth and final rule was that I had to keep what I knew about my parent's personal lives secret from my sister as well as anyone else who didn't already know about it.
Well, from then on until I hit puberty life was good and my comfort was defined by the state of my diapers. By the time I turned 14 and my sister was no longer required to diaper me, diapers had begun to develop a new role in my life. I had begun growing pubic hair about this time and my parents, having changed my wet and messy diapers for 14 years, wear getting a little lazy about changing me. After I messed myself and waited for as much as an hour for a change, all I got in the way of clean up was a quick once over on my poop-smeared behind and lean amount of baby powder from my sister, and not a whole lot better from my mother and father. By the time I was 15 and had a full bush of hair in my diaper area, what was at that time a chronic diaper rash had developed into a full-blown yeast infection. When I finally worked up the courage to ask my parents to take me to the doctor, the situation had come to a head. It was that first time I had ever told my parents they can stick their diaper change rules right up their asses. My sex organs, which I only saw about 15 minutes a day, felt like they were falling off. My crouch smelled like sourdough even 5 minutes after a shower.
After it was all said and done, the rules were completely removed by my 16th birthday as was my yeast infection and my self-disgust. It was a good thing too because I had met a girl at the private high school I was attending. I was changing my own diapers now and deciding how many and what kind I was wearing. I had gotten to a pretty effective schedule by my sophomore year in high school. First thing I would do upon waking every morning is I would take off my terry night diapers and plastic pants. Next, I would give myself a 3-quart warm 10% salt- water enema and retain it for several minutes. My sister usually came in at about the time I was finished taking in the enema and occasionally help me be squeezing the bag to get the last of it in before showering herself while I sat on the toilet waiting until I had to expel. Kelly had really mellowed out by that point and, although she didn't respect my choice to wear diapers at that time she did respect my right live with my choice. Thus, she had stopped teasing me except in a playful manner from time to time and she stood up for me in front of her friends. However, she still (as far as I know) did not know about our parents' lifestyle. Anyway, retaining the enema was a challenge in and of itself because I had never trained my anus to stay shut. It wasn't until I found an enema tip that had the double inflatable bulbs that this problem was a solved. Once my sister was out of showering and shaving my face and every inch of my diaper area. Then I would cut slits into the back of an Abena Abri-Form Medium X-Plus before applying a thick layer of Nursery Petroleum Jelly over my entire diaper area including my hips and butt cheeks, penis, scrotum, and anus as well as around my inner thighs. I would then tape on the Abena diaper as tightly as possible before wrapping duct tape around my waist at the top of diaper just above my hips to help keep it from sagging. Then I tape on a Molicare Super Plus Medium tightly over the Abena and secure it around my hips with duct tape as before. The last thing I would do is put on a pair of plastic pant that just barely covered my diapers and fit tightly around my thighs and waist to ensure that their were no leaks and minimize the crinkling sound the diapers and plastic pants make. This setup has lasted me as long as 14 hours but has never needed changing in less than 4 hours (unless I had a BM) except on very hot summer days when I drank a whole lot of water.
The last thing I do before putting on a loose pair of pants or shorts-- depending on the occasion-- is something that I learned on my own from experimentation as a boy pubescent young man. I pick up a bottle of Astro-glide and squirt a quarter size amount on my inner thighs were my diapers meet my legs. I then spread it around where the leg gather on the diapers and plastic pants rub my inner thighs to reduce friction make it more comfortable to walk normally. On days where I would be walking a lot I'd use Vaseline instead of Astro-Glide. After I was finished with this process I had one extra activity to do before dressing almost every morning. I would proceed to play a DVD compilation of all the ABDL videos (all girls; boys in diapers never really turned me on unless they were masturbating in messy diapers). I had collected over the years off the Internet and masturbate through my diapers until I climaxed. Then I would get dressed, eat breakfast, drink a large glass of Metamucil, and drive to school. I often sat in the parking lot for about half an hour and smoked cigarettes until school started.
At school the teasing had all but stopped. Growing up with the same group of kids in a town of 15,000 has the effect of making oddities like me wearing diapers old news. Not to mention that since I began deciding what diapers I wore to school, my diapers really only make themselves known by causing a bulge in my crotch and ass is when I sat down or when I bent over, respectively. But I learned just sit note-pad or whatever in my lap when sitting down in class if necessary and to crouch instead of bend over. When I got home from school I changed my diapers immediately because they were usually soaked by that time. What I changed into next varied depending upon what was going on that night. If my friends, David and Adam, and I were going out to do something that night, I would usually put on one Abena X-Plus Medium after applying a liberal amount of baby oil. In case I needed to change myself while we were out I always brought two extra Abena diapers, baby powder, and wipes along so I wouldn't have to run home to change. If I was staying home for the night I would change into 3 triple-layered terry diapers and plastic pants and then get out my "diaper pants" as I called them. They were 2 inches larger than my normal school pants, which meant they would fall off if I was wearing disposables. They were extra baggy, too, so my diapers wouldn't be as noticeable under them. Of course everyone in the house knew I was wearing them but I didn't like to make it too obvious that I was wearing diapers when my friends came over to play console games or when other guests came by the house. However, most of the people who came by regularly new the gist of my story anyway: I never was toilet-trained. It was my choice to continue wearing diapers.
If I was being grounded, my sister who got home about the same time I did, would change me into my night diapers as soon as she got home. My punishment usually consisted of her inserting how many suppositories she felt I deserved at the time into my rectum, which, when she was on the rag when I was being punished, could be as many as 15. Letting her decide how many to give me was in idea that my mom had; Kelly jumped at the chance to get even when she had a grudge with me. Then she would proceed to diaper me with 10 three-layered terry diapers (I usually only wore 3-4 to bed) using four locking diaper pins to secure each diaper tightly around my hips. When she was finished she would then have me stand up so she could pour baby powder down the front and back of my diapers because she refused to touch my diaper area after several times when I got an erection while she was rubbing baby oil into my skin. I was a little embarrassed to say the least. After patting my butt and crotch a few tapes to spread the powder around a bit she would put on my largest pair of plastic pants. These plastic pants happened to be locking plastic pants. After she had the pants locked tightly in place just barely covering all of my now enormous diapered ass, I was free to go about my business for the night. Needless to say, I couldn't really go anywhere because I couldn't get any pants on and I certainly couldn't invite anyone over while I was wearing poopy diapers. The idea for this form of punishment was my dad's. He came up with the idea of locking me in diapers that I would be maked to wet and mess without a change until my sister (the only person besides my dad who had the keys to the diaper pins and plastic pants) let me out of them in the morning. Of course my sister would never clean up the mess she had caused in my diapers the next morning. She would just give me the keys and say, "Have fun, poopy pants." The rash that several days in a row of this treatment would cause was a great reminder not repeat the same bad behavior...for a while.
I was almost 17 when started dating Sally, a 5'3" brown haired girl at my school. She made me look tall and I was only 5'10". It was...weird at first because I was almost certain she knew about my diapers while I prayed that she didn't. She was a very shy girl when we first started out by going to movies, restaurants and whatnot. She was by no means a hottie, but she was gymnast and thus physically fit. But what I liked the most about her was her smile and her warm-hearted demeanor. It wasn't until the night we went to watch The Two Towers that I found out the truth about her. I hadn't thought a head changed into a fresh diaper before going to dinner and then going to the theaters to watch a 3 hour movie. About 2 hours into the movie my diaper hit the saturation point and I could feel the urine leaking through one of leg gathers on my diaper and my heart sank. I spent the next thirty minutes trying to figure out how I was going to explain to her why the seat of my pants was wet with urine instead of watching the movie. She must have seen me squirming in my seat at some point because she asked what was the matter. I lied and said I was fine. By the time the movie was over my diaper was soaked and their was a large dark spot on the seat of my pants. I said my prayers and got out my seat to leave the theatre praying no one, especially Sally, would notice. When we got to her car I sat down in the passenger seat carefully to avoid having any more liquid squeezed out of my diaper and onto her seat.
When Sally sat down in the driver's side she looked at me and said something I'll never forget, "You know, you can't just ruin my seats because you're to embarrassed to tell me." I looked at her like dear at headlights waiting for the collision. "I know you wear diapers, okay. Your friend David told me a month ago; he's my friend too." I said something like "I'm sorry." but she wouldn't have any of it. She said she didn't care about it because she understood how I felt. She told me she suffered from enuresis on and wore diapers at night to keep from waking up in wet sheets every morning. I didn't believe her until she pulled out a Medium Depends diaper from under the back seat and handed it to me. She said she kept one in her car for emergencies and that I could use it until we got home if she could change me herself. I was a quite reluctant until she French-kissed me for the first time to shut me up. We had done normal kisses on many occasions, but that night in her car in a soggy diaper was the first time I had been French-kissed. She told me to take my pants off so I did. She grabbed a shopping bag from her back seat, took of my soaked Abena diaper and put it in the bag and sat it on the back seat. She then opened up the depends diaper and had me sit down onto it. By the time she was ready to tape it onto my hips I had a rock-hard boner and she just smiled and pulled out some hand lotion from her purse and rubbed it on her and then proceeded to give me my first hand job. When I was ready to climax she covered my member with the front of the diaper to avoid making a mess in her car. Minute of kissing later and I was ready to be diapered. When she was done I pulled up my pants and we talked about diapers throughout the drive to back to her house. Since then we have had a dozen sexual encounters, a few of which occurred while we were both in diapers. However, I don't think it would be appropriate to talk about them here. Suffice to say we have found many ways over the past year to make the best what is sometimes a debilitating lifestyle.
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