I am a 31 year old sort-of-passable cross-dresser who considers myself heterosexual. I like nothing better than to meet sexy Dominant Women and do their bidding (within reason... I have quite a few limits). I love bondage and self bondage, and have quite a fetish for sexy shoes and lingerie. I have profiles on several of the more popular BDSM sites, but not because I'm looking for heavy BDSM. I enjoy chatting with other gurls like myself, but also have met some very nice guys that really stand out from the usual Doms that prowl the internet.
By the way, I don't consider myself a woman in a man's body. I don't even think of myself as transgendered. My first experience with dressing at about age 11 was an afternoon spent alone with two high-school age female cousins who playfully used me first for makeup practice, then eventually as a clothing model. When I was 7 or 8, I was visiting the house where these same two cousins lived and we are all going to “camp” overnight in a tent in the back yard. The two sisters had kept me tied to a chair inside the tent for quite a long time. I secretly loved it. It wasn't until I was 13 that I connected boners and orgasms.
I had already experimented with self bondage but had not yet connected anything kinky to anything sexual. I do, however, recall vividly how my boy parts were excited so much that there was no hiding it. It was, although not to the point of incest or molestation, openly acknowledged by my cousins. The elder girl, probably 15 at the time, was always the instigator of these "scenes" and teasingly suggested may arousal was an indication of how much I liked trying on girl's clothes, but I feel it was mostly just being that "intimate" with two beautiful teenage girls. No attempt was made to touch me inappropriately, but it was just so obvious to all three of us that there was a boner in the room, as the various panties, bras, dresses, jewelry, etc, were tried out on me. I've learned since that the instigator had become quite the Dominant in her adult life, and she had also played with many of the younger members of my extended family. I ran into her recently at a family reunion and didn't have the guts to thank her. My earliest erotic dreams usually took me back to that afternoon.
So with the background out of the way, on with the story. This very nice fellow had been messaging me and eventually let it be known that he enjoys treating young gurls like me as his little baby girls. No pain, all limits respected, yada yada. I had not even given much thought to the ABDL scene, and although I was aware of it, I never considered it something I was looking for. But after a few phone conversations, I became more and more curious about his seemingly harmless kink. The diapers, in my mind, were more of a bondage thing, or a restriction... almost like a chastity device rather than a specific connection to adult babies or age play. Plus for reasons already given, I really love having somebody dress me up, no matter the style.
I date very few guys, and don't fuck or suck them ever, but this one says no oral or anal, just possibly touching. (I have allowed a man to perform oral on me a few times, but I always prefer sexual intimacy with women). He wants to treat me like a little girl (how old? I'm not exactly sure, but young enough to need diapers!) It's strange, but the fact that he wants to make me (pretend force me) do something I have never much fantasized about has my head spinning with excitement. Much in the same way as, well, I've been tied up before and it's great fun, but if someone said they were going to keep me in bondage for an extended period of time (maybe a three day weekend) I don't think it's something I'd ask for, but at the same time... sploosh! (well gurl sploosh, which is the same as sploosh, but with semen).
Anyway, I agreed to meet him on a Friday evening and agreed to have a diaper on under my skirt... and he said no pull ups? Where should I get one? Walgreens? Will people be able to tell? I guess if I don't like it I just stop seeing him.
I chickened out going to Walgreens, and instead visited the local medical supply store. I lied to them and said my mother was starting to have issues with bladder control at night and they sold me a three diaper sample pack. They are called Abena Super Plus M4, no idea what Super M4 is... some special additive or some such. They fit me good, although I don't have anything to compare to.
Met him at a predetermined restaurant and had a bite and a few drinks. He says he's 36 but to me looks no more than 24. A quick friendly hug allowed him to insure I was diapered. I slid into a booth and he sat on the same side, pinning me in, but also blocking much of the view others had of me from the waist down. I had a small Greek salad with a grilled chicken breast on it, and two rum and Cokes. He had a patty melt with fries (he fed me some) and nursed one beer. A micro-brew of some sort. The label looked like a cartoon. I had a fairly loose denim skirt on over the diaper and although I was very self-conscious it was clear nobody knew I was wearing one except me (and my date). He was clearly excited that I was diapered, and had reached over several times and patted and rubbed my diaper gently. He asked if I had used baby powder and I told him no. He pretend scolded me and said I should always use powder "like a good girl"... LOL, but never talc, only corn starch. Live and learn. The conversation was mostly small talk; hobbies, funny work stories, some pretty funny jokes.
I was feeling a slight urge to pee by the time we left the restaurant, and under normal circumstances would have visited the ladies room prior to departure. He suggested the movies, and I just didn't think I could hold it that long, so I suggested his place instead. He seemed nice enough and I carry a J-Frame 38 in my purse in case things went too far south. Once there, I figured I could use the toilet.
I followed him to his place (turns out he's quite local to me, but he doesn't know that yet). I retrieved my 38 snubbie from the gun vault in the trunk of my Fusion and tucked it into my purse. At the same time, I locked away my money, ID, and credit cards. The gun vault works by either combination or key, and I keep the key at home. He walked over to where I had parked, wondering, no doubt, what was taking me so long. I closed the trunk just as he approached, smiled sweetly at him, and we walked together to his apartment door (nice place). As soon as we got inside, he offered me a drink but I said first I had to "go"... He laughed and said I wasn't potty trained yet and that's why I was still in diapers... (I get it, role play) He also said if I took it off no hard feelings but the evening was over. I got a slight tingle of excitement... knowing I could end it any time I wanted, and yet not quite knowing what "it" was going to end up being. I sat down on his sofa and he looked up as he was rolling a joint and remarked that I was clutching onto my purse like it was full of gold. I assured him it was just girly stuff, and forced myself to set it down next to me.
Apparently, this guy's thing isn't sexual, or at least I didn't see it. Maybe he likes to wank while thinking about his previous "adventures" but he was never overtly or aggressively sexual with me, at least not when it came to his cock. He had me stand up and he inspected my diaper. His touch had just a hint of sensuality, but was for the most part fairly clinical. He seemed pleased with how it fit and also what kind I had chosen. He wanted to know if I brought any more, and I told him about the other two that were in the car. He said if I had to pee, I better go get the other ones, so I did. I could have left right then and there, but I went back inside. By now I was doing the pee-pee dance, but he told me I better try and hold it since we only had three diapers.
He looked me in the eyes and asked me if I was willing to be his baby girl for the weekend. It wasn't the first time he'd asked, but the first time it was face to face. He promised I could end it any time, but that as long as I was in the game I had to follow Daddy's rules. I realized I was rock hard inside the diaper, and a shudder went through me like a wave. I nodded nervously. He announced I needed to be changed and I thought wow, I hadn't even pee'd yet. But he meant my clothes.
He disappeared down the hallway and came back with a bunch of baby stuff, but sized to fit an adult. He spread a blanket with baby print on the floor and pointed. I sat on the blanket as he removed my top as well as my bra and breast forms (baby girls don't have boobies) then he pushed me back and unbuckled my belt and removed my skirt and sandals. After he took all my jewelry and put it safely in a small dish, I was left in nothing but the diaper and felt very vulnerable. All the while he was talking baby talk and saying what a good little girl I am. I was literally throbbing inside the thick diaper. He slid a pair of yellow plastic pants up over my diaper, and popped a pacifier into my mouth telling to keep it there "or else" with a playful grin. I thought the diaper was noisy, but the yellow plastic pants crinkled loudly with my every movement. Since it was “getting close to baby's bed time”, he helped me into a cute pink print footed pajama that zipped up the back. Then to my surprise, he fitted a small lock on the zipper. The final item was a pair of pink leather mittens that buckled on and kept my hands balled up into fists. I contemplated how hard I could punch him with these mittens, and could probably have knocked him out, but I also wondered if I could actually open a door or dial a phone in them. I knew I could at least break a window somehow.
He stood me up and said “Wait here”, and went to the kitchen. I could see myself in a mirror on the wall, and I have to admit I looked pretty cute and baby-ish. I was of course still wearing makeup and my brown hair is shoulder length. I am lucky because I can just wear a pony tail to work and nobody cares that I have longer hair. I couldn't hold the pee any more and had to let some out to relieve the pressure. It was all I could do to stop the flow once it started. He came back into the living room with a baby bottle. He sat down on the couch and pulled me into his lap. He took out the pacifier and offered the bottle to my lips. I asked what was in it. He told me just plain old milk (which I don't really like) and sternly reminded me that babies can't talk. We alternated holding the bottle as it was hard for me with those mittens to hold anything. When it was empty, the pacifier went back in and he lit the joint he had rolled earlier. I declined but it smelled really good. After taking a few tokes, he turned the TV on and cuddled me for about an hour, playing with my nipples until I thought I would explode. Apparently he believes in the ancient astronaut theory; (coincidence? I think not!) I wondered if he knew my diaper was a little wet, but he didn't mention it.
At 10PM sharp, he announced bed time and stood me up. As soon as I stood, I had to really pee bad, and when I tried to let off a little pressure this time, I couldn't stop. It just gushed out of me! The flood of urine felt hot as it spread into the diaper material. He saw what was happening and I was so embarrassed. It's funny... you spend your whole life trying not to wet your bed or your pants, so even when it happens intentionally you feel like you've done some thing wrong. He remarked that I was going to be one very wet baby girl by morning and held my wrist as I waddled with him down the hallway to a back bedroom, my heavy sagging diaper making walking difficult. I felt my shame cause my boner to go away.
One of the two bedrooms was set up as a complete nursery, decorated with princesses, rainbows, unicorns, and other girly things in various shades of pink and a few other pastels mixed in. A glance around the room revealed an adult sized crib, an over-sized play pen and high chair, plus a dresser and a large heavy duty changing table. There were open shelves filled with stuffed animals and other baby toys, along with stacks of diapers of various kinds (each shelf having a girl's name over it's stack... one name was "Abby" and another was "Mandy" but there were others I don't remember) and neatly folded plastic and rubber pants, onsies, rompers, pajamas like I was wearing and other baby clothes. God only knows what was in the closet and dresser drawers. The frilly curtains didn't hide the fact that the window was barred, although I was pretty sure they were thick enough to prevent anyone from seeing into the room. I wondered briefly if the bars were to keep people out or keep people in. He noticed me looking at the diapers and told me that if I had brought more of my own, I would be getting changed more often; that these diapers belonged to other baby girls he “took care of”. He suggested I buy them in bulk online and keep them in his nursery rather than bring them each time.
I don't know how or why, but all of a sudden, the pacifier fell out of my mouth and onto the floor, our eyes meeting with an unspoken knowledge that I had messed up. “That's OK, my new babies all have trouble keeping the "paci" in, especially when they sleep, so they get to wear this to help them until they learn.” He pulled a pink leather head harness out of a dresser drawer and dangled it for me to see. Tossing it on the crib, he reached again into the drawer and came up with a set of four pink leather cuffs. I have to admit, they were cute as heck, but the head harness gave me pause. Whether I liked it or not, seeing the leather restraints had caused my boner to come back.
He backed me up to the changing table and, putting his hands in my underarms, said, “Upsie Daisy” and I jumped up as he lifted me onto the table. My weight squished into the wet warmth of my diaper. More baby talk from my “Daddy” and I was quickly buckled into the pink cuffs, tiny padlocks insuring they were going to stay around my wrists and ankles, as if I could unbuckle anything with the mittens on my hands. He helped me down from the table and assisted as I climbed into the crib. I would have liked nothing better by this time than to rip the diaper off and rub one out, but my boi-clitty was deep inside the pajamas, plastic pants, and thick diaper, and with my hands balled up into mittens, it just wasn't to be. I was so horny I couldn't think straight, and as I lay on my back in the crib, I think he knew that as well as I did. Short lengths of pink leather strapping were attached to each corner of the crib. Padlocking each cuff to a strap guaranteed I was staying in the crib until Daddy released me. I wasn't uncomfortably spread-eagled, but couldn't reach anything important like my crotch, or anything really. My whole body trembled with every exhale. He started teasing my lips with his fingers, eventually allowing me to suck his fingers. My hips heaved as I squirmed against the restraints.
He walked away for just a second and returned with a very life-like dildo of about 6-7 inches. He teased my lips and face with it allowing my tongue to caress is until it was dripping with my saliva. Only then did he move it into my mouth, just the head at first, in and out of my lips. Then deeper, but never so deep I gagged on it. He moved it in and out until my lips were tingling and I was panting like an animal. Every so often he would gently remind my nipples how sensitive he had made them earlier. I was getting lost in the moment, but told myself that if any real cocks were presented I was going to stop it. All of a sudden, he took the rubber cock away, and looking me right in the eyes, said, “My goodness, my little girl is a naughty one.” With that, he walked out of the room. As I lay there quivering with frustration, I could hear him doing something in the kitchen. A few minutes passed and I had regained some of my composure when he returned with another baby bottle full of milk. He had warmed it in the microwave I guess. He propped my head with his left arm and held the nipple in my mouth. I could do nothing but drink the milk. I suspect there was something to relax or sedate me in the milk, because I do not remember finishing the bottle, nor do I remember him buckling on the head harness.
Next thing I remember, I awoke before dawn, alone and still restrained to the crib wearing the head harness which held (I actually learned later when I could see it) a removable pacifier whose nipple was penis shaped. It snapped in place and the snaps were strong because I could not unsnap or push it out with my tongue, and my hands were unable to help. I lay there in the pre-dawn stillness, neck and pillow covered in drool, reality slowly coming back to me. I felt a little stiff, but was not cramped. Eventually, the urge to urinate hit me like a Mack truck. At first my body didn't want to allow my bladder to empty while lying down. I concentrated, giving up any thoughts of embarrassment and let it flow, the heat from the pee spreading all around my crotch. I was feeling a bit uncomfortable and heard myself making whining and fussing noises and it wasn't long before my new Daddy was hovering over me telling his precious little girl good morning. Checking my diaper, he remarked how full it was (something he didn't need to tell me) and said he would change me right after he got showered and dressed. I lay there another 30 or 40 minutes... the longest half hour I had experienced since being there.
Rather than being changed, I was released from the crib and told to crawl to the kitchen. The diaper was so heavy I'm not sure I could have walked or even waddled. The four cuffs were used to fasten me to the high chair, which had been moved to the kitchen. The removable penis gag/pacifier was unsnapped from the head harness and he spoon fed me oat meal (not at all my favorite food, but I was hungry, and he had put lots of brown sugar in it). He held a bottle of apple juice for me. When it was empty, the penis gag was immediately put back in and I crawled back to the “nursery” where he stripped me and gave me a quick sponge bath on the changing table before rubbing me thoroughly with lotion, (he kept me so close to the edge that I was gushing pre-cum) even toying with the outer edge of my butt hole until I was moaning. Then after a liberal dusting with powder, the fresh diaper was tightly taped on. He was much better at it that I was. Over the diaper I was dressed in pink rubber pants with lots of ruffles on the rear, and a very short babyish dress was pulled over my head. The rubber pants had a very unique scent; different than the plastic pants but no less noticeable. The cuffs and mittens, some soft pink booties, and a big pink bow in my hair completed my ultra baby look. With the gag removed again, I sat in his lap and drank another bottle of juice as he watched FOX news on TV. I had already wet a little before the bottle was empty.
When I did finish the bottle, I was helped into the play pen. There was a large eye bolt in the center of the floor of the sturdy 5ft by 5ft play pen. It was attached by a very short length of chain to the middle of a 30-inch spreader bar that got padlocked to my ankle cuffs. I could move around the entire play pen, but could not think of escaping. Daddy said it was to keep baby safe and secure. It did. A 12-inch length of chain was locked between my wrist cuffs (more for effect than anything else, I suppose). After tossing a few dolls and stuffed animals into the pen, my daddy said he had some errands to do and would be back in an hour or so.
I tested the possibility of escaping the play pen, but could not even reach the floor outside the pen. I could sit up against the sturdy outer walls of the pen, or I could lay flat on my back if I bent my knees. The latter causing my knees to spread wide apart as I relaxed. I also tested how difficult it would be to get inside my diaper, but with the mittens, I could not even get a hold of the rubber pants' waist band and figured I wouldn't be able to do much more than let him know I was trying to be naughty, so I scrapped that idea and just laid back and let my mind drift. I could hear kids playing outside, and birds chirping and the gentle breeze was blowing the leaves of a big shade tree outside the window causing shadows to dance all around the nursery. I felt myself regressing and it was not a scary feeling. Rather, it was calming and a feeling of warmth and well-being washed over me as my baby mind imagined a zoo of cartoon animals created by the dancing shadows.
Time stood still. I drifted in and out of a dream world; sometimes napping, sometimes day dreaming, only to be snapped out of it by the sound of the apartment door as my Daddy returned. I suspected he had been gone way more than one hour. I was pretty wet but don't remember peeing while in the play pen.
The rest of the day was a combination of teasing, feeding, and gentle bondage, mixed with several outfit changes; each one more cute than the one before it. He had added a pink leather collar with a leash attached and had me crawl around on the leash, keeping me close to him no matter where he went in the apartment. I was never out of his sight unless restrained securely. Several times I nearly came from just nipple teasing, and I heard myself make sounds I'd never made before. Thankfully, Daddy put a fresh diaper on me when he dressed me in my pajamas. When bedtime came Saturday evening, and I was safely restrained in the crib for the night, Daddy removed the penis pacifier and fed me my night time bottle. As he was doing so, he said he was concerned his darling princess was constipated as she had not made a poopie. (I had given myself a Fleet enema prior to our meet-up at the restaurant Friday evening to clean out, not knowing exactly what was going to happen, so that may be why I hadn't had an urge for a bowel movement). Again, I do not remember finishing the warm bottle of milk.
I awoke again a little before dawn, feeling uncomfortably full and really wished I could use a toilet. And a shower. The diaper was very wet and I had clearly pee'd in my sleep. It wasn't long before a new flood of urine threatened to overwhelm the capacity of the capable Super M4 . I worried about this for a second or two, then realized, hey it's not my mattress. Plus, the waterproof pants Daddy always had me wearing over my diaper would help contain the wetness. The feeling of fullness was only partially alleviated by emptying my bladder and I realized I had to poop. Surely he didn't want that! Yuck!
My restlessness no doubt alerted him to my being awake and after waiting for him to shower and dress again, I was released and made to crawl to the kitchen. After crawling only a few feet across the nursery, I got a huge cramp and a bunch of gas escaped. Halfway down the hall, I thought it was going to happen again, but this time a violent stream of loose stool shot out of me and into the diaper, stopping my crawl in it's tracks. Several big waves of diarrhea roared out of me and piled up in the already straining diaper and all I could do was sit there on all fours and endure it. Daddy no doubt had slipped a strong laxative into my night time bottle last night. I need to discuss this with him.
When the waves of awfulness finally subsided, I looked up sheepishly at Daddy, suddenly feeling totally humiliated for the first time that weekend. Daddy said, “Pew, somebody needs a diaper change!” as if it was totally normal, and encouraged me to continue my crawl to the kitchen. Another wave of cramps hit me as he helped me to my feet. As I approached the high chair, I dreaded what was coming next. I was seated in the chair, it's hard wooden seat smashing the mess all over me. I could feel it squishing up around my balls as well as up the back of my crack. The smell was horrible and I started to cry. Daddy quickly removed the head harness and put his arms around me and comforted me, wiping my tears and caressing my hair and face until I got my shit together (no pun intended). He then locked me to the chair and fed me breakfast while I sat in my mess. I felt defeated and ate without enthusiasm.
After breakfast, he took off the cuffs and pajamas, and got me up on the changing table where he carefully removed the plastic pants and the diaper from hell, tossing the diaper into a waiting lined trash can. He cleaned me up fairly well, and then told me there were clean towels, etc, in the bathroom and I should go shower. I found my street clothes, purse, and jewelry were already in the bathroom. I was a bit startled when I saw my face in the mirror... the tears along with the rest of the two day ordeal had destroyed my makeup. I looked like a zombie. I have to figure out something better than that if this happens again. That face couldn't have been pleasant for him to look at! The trouble is, real girls are still pretty and feminine without makeup... me, not so much. He stayed in the living room until I was showered, dressed, made up, and back to my “normal” gurly self. I was without panties, but no big deal. After the shower I could have fallen fast asleep in seconds had I allowed myself to sit and relax at all. I felt spent, yet at the same time rejuvenated if that makes any sense.
I walked into the living room and we both had huge grins on our faces. I detected the scent of what must be some killer weed again. He asked me if I had fun, and I had to admit I did. Had he been a woman, I would have been disappointed by not getting to cum, but since I'm still going to define myself as hetero, I'm OK with the way it went down. I told him it left me frustrated and horny. He laughed and said it made him that way, too. He handed me a diaper (not one of mine, as they were all used up) and said jokingly that I could use it since I didn't have any panties to wear home. I declined, but looking back, maybe I should have accepted.
I got a coffee at a fast food drive through and tried to not let my boy parts get aroused on the way home. As soon as I did get home, the first thing I did was lift my skirt and jerk my brains out. He wants to do it again whenever I'm ready... it was a bit overwhelming and I kinda would like to cum too, but wow was it exciting. My mind is still racing. It was so bizarre, and yet very exciting. I'm debating whether or not to do some solo diaper play.