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Tuesday, April 19, 2011

Young Diaper Love


When I was five years old, we moved from Fort Lewis in Washington State to Southern California, The trip would have taken a couple of days but all I can recall of it is being in my old Step-Fathers' car, it was probably a Ford from the early 40's knowing his taste in cars, and being bundled up in the backseat with my younger sister Vickie Lynn, amid all the junk we were taking with us, there was barely any room to move. Sometime during the trip we were staying at a cheap motel that must have been pretty rundown because I remember standing outside next to a red-hot barrel. I mesmerized by it and was throwing junk of the ground into it when I was snatched by the hair by mom, who smacked me on the ass and made me leave this wonderful sight.

We ended a two bedroom rental house in Downey, California, mom has pictures of us there and I hardly remember much about the place except memories of the man I thought was my father, Harold working on his balsa wood airplanes. During this time period I was doing a lot of thumb-sucking and he was the one that broke me from it. His left thumb was very strange looking, with the end of it looking like someone had welded a large marble to it. I wasn't the only kid in the neighborhood who was having trouble with popping thumbs in their mouths, so one day Harold called us around him and told us he used to suck his thumb and that was how it got in it's present condition. I know it made a strong impression on me, that the cinnamon and other junk mom used to paste on my thumbs had ever done, His confession made me and the others stop the babyish habit.

The main memories of that year was meeting our next door neighbors who turned out to become family friends for years. Ralph worked for Lockheed, his wife was quite fat an named Beverly, like my mom's real first name, Kay is her name, then there was two daughters Kim about my age and Karen, Vickie's age. The girls were both blonds and we instantly became friends, I know we occasionally played with other kids in the vicinity but I can't visualize them. I may have started going to school there but if so I made no impression on me, I only know I started school in first grade. There are two distinct moments in my time there one was my first crime, although I didn't realize I was comiting one.

There was a small shed in their backyard that had a glass panel in the door, I could see all kinds of stuff inside, stacks of magazines and boxes of unknown items. The door was looked and all I could think about was getting inside and exploring the place, I took a rock and busted the glass, the noise and mess scared the girls who ran off to hide leaving me to face the adults who can running there. I got my ass busted of course, and never got to go inside it.

The other moment is one I have always cherished as an adult. I don't know how often I was wetting the bed but enough for my mother to haven't got frustrated with my problem. She had me in night diapers at various times. I don't remember much about the first time I was diapered by my Mother after I turned five, just that it happened and continued off an on into my teens. One night we got to spend the night at Kim's house and me and Vickie we both so excited, the girls were too. We played outside in the yard while our parents cooked out and after dinner we had to play in the house. Kim introduced to stip poker although I'm sure we weren't playing the card game totally right it was her game and her rules, She gave me accessories to wear, from her wardrobe while Vickie was supplied by Karen. For some reason I always seemed to lose and was the first one totally nude with Kim being the second one. She We were both used to seeing girls genitals but Kim and Karen having no brothers wanted to see a boy's parts, naturally they did a lot of giggling. Our parents were so loaded they just laughed when we later told them what we were playing.

Eventually the Mothers' broke up our party during a lull in their card game saying it was bedtime. Bev, as she liked being called asked Mom if she brought diapers for me, Mom promptly produced them but told Bev she could do the honors as she was loaded. Bev shrugged with a laugh and made my lay on the living room floor so she could diaper me, then she pulled a pair of plastic pants over them. Mom told her kids to give a round of night kisses which had become a family tradition we had to preform on any adults before retiring to our beds. I was slightly embarrassed by being in diapers but did as I was told, then joined the three girls in a double bed in the girls room.

I feel fast asleep only to be woken some time later by Kim who was laying beside me. She quizzed me about how it felt to wear diapers at my age and then said she wanted to touch them, I let her and she told me I had to touch her panties, I was nervous but she guided my hand to where she wanted it. Afterwards she kissed me on the lips and wanted me to kiss her back, which I did, then she asked me if I knew how to French kiss, I had no idea what that was an told her so. She said she would teach me next time we spent the night together.

This was the first of many times over the years until We were both in the fifth grade that we fooled around in bed Until the last time we were always at their house. Our families hug out a lot during those early years with the adults playing cards or board games in the evening at least once a month and several times a year we stayed the night. They were seemed to have all the latest gadgets and a large house with plenty of room. I seen my first color tv there it was totally amazing to us to see a tv show in color, there wasn't even a lot of movies back then that were color.

Although we didn't spent the night very often by eight or nine at night us kids were sharing a bed until the wee hours when we would head home. These cherished memories being taught by Kim how to kiss were amazing to me, it always very similar with us fondling each other. She was not but off by the diapers I always had to wear and loved to put one of her hands in them to play with me while she directed me to pleasure her.. Of course we weren't mature enough to have any climax's and were grew up experimenting with each other.

By the time we were in the fifth grade things changed rapidly, the families got together one Saturday and us kids were dropped off for a matinée movie, it was Elvis and I was both excited about seeing the movie and being able to spend time with her. But she wanted us little kids to sit away from her so she could make-out with this older boy she had her eye on. We kept her secrets as she kept ours, that night we kissed some but she seemed distant to me. The final time we shared was at my house when we had moved to Rosemead, although we only lived at that place a few months that house holds a lot of good and bad times for me.

The strangest one was when Kim's family stayed until 3 am was our last physical encounter. My brother slept in the bottom bunk he was about 5 and I had the top my sister had the double bed beside ours, so the girls had to share it. After Gary went to sleep Kim told me to come into the big bed,when I did she whispered she wanted me to put it in her later but she wanted to know if it would hurt. I had not been in diapers for a few months so there was nothing to stop me from trying it, except my own fears. By this time in our relationship our sisters were aware that we had been kissing and playing around for years. Kim boldly told the other girls what she wanted to try, Our sisters were caught off guard but were more shocked then giggly especially when Kim asked which one of them wanted to try with me first. This got me scared there was no way I wanted to fool around with my sister. Karen was finally picked by Kim and as we attempted to copulate I whispered in her ear that we should just pretend to do it which we did. Karen told all of us it didn't hurt and we all just giggled and huddled naked together under the covers. I made special care that Vickie was no next to me as there wasn't anyway I was having contact with her privates.

The funny part was that Kim didn't want to do it in front of the other kids but felt it was okay for them to do stuff in front of her. She whispered for me to stay awake and she would join me in my bed as soon as our sisters were asleep. When she crawled into my rack, I was even more nervous then usual. The only things most of us knew about sex was from other kids or what we had discovered in library medical books. Not knowing what would happen I mounted her when I was hard enough, We humped each other for a while, while kissing. With neither of us knowing about dry humming or lubrication it was indeed a frustrating experience and we stopped when she complained it was getting to painful. I never mentioned that it was making me hurt too and after a few kisses she left my bed never to return.

It was several years before I seen her again. Her parents were divorced with Ralph getting custody for the two girls. We were both 15 then but any attempt to renew our relationship was rebuffed by her acting like she had no idea what I was talking about. And besides she had a boyfriend already, she did flirt with me but no even a peck on the cheek.

Even though we never had an official relationship I kind of think of her as my first girlfriend. It is weird how a family relationship that started in 1955 just faded away and after 1966 was all but over. I think Ralph and my parents still continued seeing each other for a few years but I never say Karen or Kim again. I wonder what she would say about those days?

Monday, April 18, 2011

My Thoughts on a Old Topic

My Thoughts on a Old Topic

I have often called myself ‘Hippie’ ( Hippies evolved from the beatnik age and really means a hipster or being hip to the scene, which may not refer to anymore then their generational music, so in a sense there are a lot more hippies then we may think) and a ‘Diaper-Lover’ without thinking much about what these the labels really mean. Labels are really a form of description so you or others can instantly identify with a particular object. It doesn’t matter whether it is living or dead object, it is simply a reference point. It is non-judgmental; it is we the people who make it that way. A lot of labels have been perverted in their use, such as ‘Gay’ or ‘Queer’, denoting two different ways of referring to the same class of people.  But within this broad class are many subgroups each with their own name; they embrace their own name for different reasons; each group is compelled to shout their way is the right way.  Whether they created their titles for good or it was created by another for evil doesn’t matter. What is really important is how it relates to the group as a whole and that it lets them readily distinguish themselves form their peers.

Our own ABDL group is really two different groups; Adult-Babies and Diaper-Lovers. An AB is often considered a DL, yet a DL is seldom seen as an AB. The problem is how the terms are defined. Let’s think about what each one seems to mean for a moment.

Adult Baby says; an adult who acts like a baby. To act like a baby is to wear diapers, wear baby clothes, use a baby bottle and/or pacifier, sleep in a baby crib and otherwise conduct themselves as a baby would. A baby needs someone to care for it because it cannot do many things on its own. A baby needs to be protected, nurtured, disciplined, punished, and guided until it is capable of independent actions. A baby has stages of growth from infant to toddler.

Babies develop at individually at different speeds with part of their primary development including sexual discovery. We no more incapable of understanding how it relates to them; then they are to explain to us what they feel. Their primal sexual responses can be only described fundamental animal ones. Although they may touch their genitals throughout their babyhood during diaper changes and at other times; they are not capable of sexual release so they are regarded as non-sexual to us. Since babies are not sexual many AB’s are non-sexual, that is to say that when they are in their AB state they feel no sexual arousals they are sometimes referred to as Pure AB’s. Most other AB’s are on a different plane and include sex as part of their genre.

Diaper Lover says; to love diapers. Loving diapers includes wearing diapers, seeing someone wearing diapers, seeing diapers in a store, etc… And diapers can not only be a source of comfort but also one of sexual desire. DL’s use diapers also for their intended purpose, although some use them this way only occasionally. Some just like to wear diapers without doing their business in them. A lot of DL’s also like to role-play as AB’s but do not consider themselves as AB’s. This seems to blur the line between the two groups.

This broad ABDL class contains many subgroups; that include Furies, Transsexuals, Transvestites, Gay, Bisexual, Straight and BDSM members who are also either AB’s or DL’s or who use diapers at times in their scenarios.  It has many ways of describing what we are such as infantilism or perversion but in medical terms infantilism is a perversion.   It doesn’t matter much other then how one perceives them selves and how they want to be viewed by their Vanilla peers. I realize this is an old argument and I may be whipping an ole dog here but I said my piece, what are your thoughts on it?

Saturday, April 2, 2011

Life on the Dark Side


I had a strange and eventful time living at the Royal Airport Inn in Brookpark, Ohio. I arrived back in Cleveland on the first of January 1996 with the clothes on my back wearing a windbreaker and carrying an awol bag with a change of underwear, a paperback novel,a couple of good pairs of VIP plastic pants and two sets of diaper pins and a carton of Newports inside and a hundred and seventy dollars in my pocket. Exiting the Greyhound bus terminal I was misted with the whirling snow steadily falling and no idea where I was going to sleep for the night. I decided to see if I could get my job back as maintenance man at the Country inns in Fairview Park, so I caught a cab there. I was here on the job there in late ’94 and had spent the year of ’95 in recovery with my wife in WV. Chis the proprietor of the Country Inns, welcomed me but said I was replaced and made me pay regular rates for a week, (one hundred and thirty dollars).  I was a bit down but let it go. The place was in worse shape then when I left, except for the new heating system. Although it was far warmer with the old boiler system I used to have to maintain, I figured I could find another job easy enough. I used one of the cheap bath towels in the room for a diaper and hoped into still hopeful.
To save money I would walk the six miles to downtown and eat in the homeless kitchens, there wasn’t much in the way of shelter back then. It took me about two months to get on my feet working through day labor agencies and sleeping on the streets the first month. In June I finally found a contact I was looking for and was able to get a job from his brother repairing, cleaning and helping install used restaurant kitchen appliances. It was hard but honest work; it was a new venture that never made it out of the red. Gary Lee lived at the Royal Airport in with his brother John who was my contact. Gray was a very likable guy but you had to chase him around for your pay, he loved to get high and hang out in the local strip clubs. After a year and a half I got fed up and moved into the hotel after I foolishly got my car stolen, to do maintenance work for John. The pay was less but it was on time. I had my own bed by then although my room was very rough being an out of service one that only cost me fifty dollars a week. I had a computer by then and had been on the net for over a year.
This was year of the ’97 meet in Oregon but I am ahead of myself again, since I was living there for the ’96 meet too. Live was never routine there, there was always new people to meet and you never knew what was around the corner. I met some good and bad ones, and the staff was mostly good to me. More especially after I came out of the closet. The best time for me was the time I could spend in my room in diapers, plastic pants and a tee-shirt chatting on the computer while I was stoned on some good weed. I had gotten to be good friends with a few of the local hookers and they used to come and ask to hang out in my rooms quite a bit. I was always polite to them and never hassled them about their reasons. I knew the reasons; they wanted a place to smoke their crack without having to worry about someone begging or stealing it.
I wasn’t interested in it, I only asked them to relax and strip down to at least their undies, while they were there and to not invite strangers there. They were fine with it and some of them readily modeled diapers for me, which was very thrilling to me. They never judged me or me them they were living their lives for their own reasons. Life is very raw in the urban jungle and people will work over you before they give you a helping hand. I found people would give you a drink or a joint of weed far sooner then a bite to eat. Life can be very cruel but not everyone that is down on their luck is bad, luck can turn on you in a wink and a working man or woman can find themselves living on the edge of a cliff with nowhere to turn. It is not as hard as you want to believe. A lot has changed in my life since then but I will never forget or regret how I have lived my life, because even with all my faults I was able to discover that life is worth living even if you have nothing to put in the cook pot or no pot to piss in. The most important part is to be able to have friends to share life with, even if they come and go. I would rather live in a cardboard box with good friends then a mansion with strangers and enemies.