My own story is a bit odd and I’m a bit embarrassed to share it. My name is Tina and I was a bit of a rebellious teenager. This led to the foundation of my diaper fetish as an adult.
As many ABDLs, I was a bedwetter for most of my childhood. My mother bought me pullups until I was 12, but then I mostly outgrew them. They still technically fit, but they weren’t absorbent enough and I still continually woke up with a wet bed.
After doing her research, she started buying me Depends, but they are terrible for bedwetters and still leaked fairly often. The leg elastic was also causing some serious chafing. This time, she asked the pharmacist what to buy and he suggested the Abena brand adult diapers they sold there.
Mom always made me get ready for bed before 9pm, because that’s when she went to bed and she wanted to make sure I didn’t forget. I had a tendency to fall asleep in bed while watching TV. So, the first time I put one on, I had some serious mixed feeling.
The Abena’s were so much thicker than Depends and I felt ridiculous. For the first time, I felt like I was wearing a baby diaper and it was embarrassing. But then, when I went to the kitchen to get a late night snack, I actually had my first orgasm just from the bunched up padding of the diaper rubbing against my clitoris.
I didn’t connect the two and actually thought something was wrong with me, but it felt so amazing I didn’t say anything to my mother. Instead I started finding reasons to walk around the house after she went to bed, just so I could feel it again. The point of this story is my rebellious teen years though, so I should move on.
At 16, I started to think I was grown and constantly tried to assert myself with my mother. It never worked and I got more and more frustrated. Near the end of my Junior year, I got caught smoking pot with some friends behind the shop building. The police were called and I was given a school probation – if I got in trouble again, the prosecutor would get involved and I might go to juvenile detention.
Mom was pissed and for the first time since I was 11, she spanked me with a wooden spatula. Of course, thinking I was an adult, I ran off and didn’t come home until the cops brought me home three days later. A counselor from the police department told me that I was under house arrest until the prosecutor decided if he wanted to charge me with anything.
Still rebellious, I yelled and screamed at my mom and told her I was leaving as soon as the cops left the neighborhood. She called the cop that left his card and told him what I said and he just told her they couldn’t do anything until I actually left.
In hindsight, I realize she was desperately trying to save me from myself, but at the time I thought she had gone off the deep end. She came into my room with a drill and put screws right through my window frame to prevent me from opening it. Then she added a bar lock to the outside of my bedroom door to prevent me from leaving my room.
I screamed and threw things for hours after that, but she seemed to ignore me. At dinner time, she brought me a plate of food and told me she would let me out when I calmed down. I just yelled that I was leaving as soon as I got out. Despite my anger, I still ate the food she brought me.
That evening, she came to get the empty plate and reminded me to put my diaper on for bed. Out of spite, I didn’t and wet the bed that night. The next morning, she was livid and beat my ass with her spatula again and made me stand in the corner while she cleaned up my mess. My rebellious side wasn’t completely stupid. Mom was twice my size and significantly stronger than I was, so refusing to do as she told me would have resulted in a much worse beating.
After she put down a pad to soak up the urine from the mattress, she put on a new sheet set. Then she pulled me out of the corner and stripped off my wet pants and added them to the pile of laundry. Then, for the first time during the day, she pulled out one of my diapers and started putting it on me. I struggled at first, but she just lifted my leg and gave me a dozen swats with her hands and I stopped fighting. She warned me that if I took the diaper off, she turn my ass black and blue.
She brought me breakfast a little while later, but the real problem came after breakfast began to settle. I had to poop real bad, but I was locked in my room. I pounded on the door and screamed that I needed to use the toilet, but Mom didn’t come. I managed to hold out for over an hour, but then I messed in the diaper for the first time.
When Mom came to bring me lunch a couple hours after that, she found me crying in shame. She apologized for not letting me use the toilet and even cleaned me up. It was embarrassing to have her wiping the poop from my ass, but I was far too distraught to do it myself.
After that, she still made me wear the diapers, but she gave me a little bell to ring when I needed to poop. She warned me that if I lied and rang the bell for other reasons, she would beat my ass with the spatula again.
For the remaining two weeks of my school suspension, Mom kept me locked in my room and wearing diapers. At first, it was horrendous, but I soon found myself walking around my room and doing ‘exercises’ just to feel the padding rub against my clit. I also discovered that wet diapers feel so much better when I masturbate.
When it was time to go back to school, she asked me if I had calmed down enough to be trusted. I still desperately wanted to be treated like an adult, but at the same time I wanted my diapers more than ever. If I didn’t stick it out with my mother, I wouldn’t have the diapers, so I knew I had to give in.
After that, my attention was less on trying to be an adult and do what I wanted and more on wanting to be forced to wear diapers again. I even started fantasizing about being spanked, diapered and told I was going to wear them forever.
Mom was actually surprised when she noticed that I had put my night diapers on early every night. She was convinced that I was trying to earn back her trust, but I just wanted to feel them while I was awake as much as possible. During the summer, I would sleep in past the time she left for work and would wear my wet diapers for most of the day. I did that all the way through college, because I lived at home until I was 24.
Some people might say what my mom did was abusive, but until you’ve been in that position with your own offspring, you don’t know how you would react. I was a terror and she was afraid I was going to get myself killed or hooked on drugs.
I’m now 29 and I have an amazing ABDL boyfriend. We wear diapers together all the time and he often plays the Daddy role for me. In a sexual relationship, I adore being spanked – and spanked hard. I like to be locked into my diapers and forbidden from using the toilet. I still fantasize about it all being against my will, but fantasies and reality are two different things.