Letters & Biographies

Cynthia’s Origin Story

April 29, 2015

My name is Cynthia and this is my origin story. I’ve always been a bit hesitant to share my story, simply because someone one wrote a fictional story that starts off fairly close to my actual experiences. Because of that, I’ve been accused of ‘stealing’ it from that story on multiple occasions. Regardless of that, I wanted to submit it for entry into your contest.

When I was eleven years old, my mom was desperately trying to potty train my three year old brother. She would often get very frustrated with him, because he refused to overcome his fear of toilets. He was so big at that age, she had to buy special diapers for him from the drug store.

The thing my mother didn’t know was that I had been teasing my brother and telling him there were monsters in the toilet that would bite his butt. That went on for months and months before my mom caught me.

She was livid when she realized what I had been doing and immediately took me into the living room and beat my ass with a wooden spatula. As I was bawling my eyes out, she went and got a diaper from my brother’s room and told me to lay down. When I realized she intended to put me in a diaper, I tried to pull away but she just grabbed the spatula again and gave me several more swats until I agreed to lay down.

As she was putting the giant diaper on me, she told me that I was going to be in diapers until my brother was potty trained. I still remember one of the things she said, as it’s something I now fantasize about often.

“I’ll be damned if I’m going to be changing two sets of diapers, so you will be responsible for changing your brother and getting him potty trained. I hope you’re up to the task, because school starts in just over a month and I doubt you want to start a new fashion trend.”

I realized that this, of course, implied that she would be changing my diapers. And if I didn’t get my brother potty trained quickly enough, I would be wearing diapers to school.

It only took me a week to potty train my brother by convincing him that I had killed the monster in the toilet. Apparently he was very much ready to be potty trained and my monster story was the only thing holding him back. His quick training turned out to be both good and bad for me.

On the plus side, I only spent eight humiliating days in diapers and having those disgusting diapers changed by my mother. On the other side, my mom realized just how effective diaper discipline was and decided to use it any time I got into serious trouble. Any time I would do anything wrong, she would just ask me if she should get out the diaper bag and I would immediately be on my best behavior.

Over the next few years I was only diaper punished twice. Once when I was caught smoking behind the school. It was literally the first cigarette I had ever tried and I got caught. Mom was beside herself with anger and put me in diapers for the entirety of my two week suspension from school.

The second time was when I was brought home by the cops for skipping school. We only got caught because my friend shoplifted a bottle of root beer. That time I got my ass beat with the belt and sent to bed. It wasn’t until the next day that she pulled out the diaper bag and I spent another two weeks in diapers. I even had to wear them to school, but luckily I was able to hide them under my clothes without detection.

As I got older, she threatened me with diapers less and less, until it just stopped. Of course, I started hanging out with a better group of friends and rarely got into trouble. And the trouble I did get into was minor and usually just got me grounded for a day or two.

When I went to college, I was so homesick that I began to fantasize that she would show up at my dorm demanding to know why I ran away. She would drag me to the car and take me home. Once we got there, she would pull out the diaper bag and tell me it was time she just kept me in diapers permanently.

Of course, that was a stress fantasy and not a sexual fantasy, but it quickly turned sexual when I found out about the ABDL community. I had no clue that such a thing existed until I saw a TV show talking about it. The internet was rich with information and your site was one of the first I ever found. My desires for diapers quickly shifted from wanting my mom to diaper me and take care of me, to wanting a strong, dominant daddy to take care of me and keep me in diapers.

Now, I’m sneaking up on thirty years old. I’m married to my wonderful ABDL husband. Our jobs and lives don’t lend itself to full time diapers, but we do indulge as often as possible. He is my daddy, but he also wears diapers himself. He would also get upset if I didn’t tell you that he is your biggest fan. We almost went to CAPCON this year, but couldn’t fit it into the schedule. He was so upset when he found out you were there, because he really wants to meet you someday.

Anyway, that is my story. I hope you’re able to post it. My husband says he will try to write one of his own as well, but is afraid his origin story is boring by comparison. LOL

Thank you and take care.
Cynthia

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  1. I for one believe your story, however, it’s probably because it’s so close to my own. In my case I got in trouble for teasing my disabled older brother for wearing diapers. It became a thing at school and he was so humiliated by it my mom took him out of school. He had ALS and had a very limited amount of his life that he could still be in school. I ruined that.

    Aside from getting my ass beat, she wanted to teach me a lesson by putting me in diapers and giving me a taste of what my brother had to deal with. She fed me, bathed me and changed my diapers for two solid weeks. I was allowed no privacy and anyone that came to the house could see how I was being punished. I was basically treated like an infant the entire time and I developed a real appreciate for the struggles my brother endured.

    He passed away about a year later. A few years after that, I moved 120 miles to attend college. Living in the dorms sucked and I missed being at home. Everyone can’t wait to get out on their own until they do. Like you, I began to daydream about a simpler time.

    In my daydreams, my mom would show up at school angry about bad grades. She would diaper me right in front of my roommate and drag me across campus with my diaper in full view. Halfway across campus, in the middle of the student plaza, I would be overwhelmed by a need to poop and would just squat right there and fill my diaper as everyone laughed. When we got home, she would treat me like a baby again by feeding me, bathing me and cuddling me as I fell asleep.

    At one point, I was so overwhelmed by school that I broke down and confessed everything to my mother over the phone. I told her how I just wanted to be her baby again and forget about adulthood. In true maternal fashion, she didn’t blink and talked me through my breakdown and told me she would have a case of fresh diapers for me when I came home for break.

    When the mental break passed, I became acutely humiliated by my confession and worried about going home. Neither of us mentioned it in subsequent phone calls, so I hoped she had let it pass. Fortunately for me, she didn’t.

    When I went home for break, I was already building up to another breakdown. Mom was waiting for me when I got home and there was a case of diapers sitting openly on the dining room table. I could tell she wasn’t sure how to proceed, so she just held up one of the diapers and gave me a questioning look. I felt like all of my blood rushed to my head, but I just looked at her and nodded. She smiled, took me by the hand and led me to my bedroom where she stripped off my pants and panties and put me in a diaper.

    I spent the next week and a half in diapers and being treated mostly the way I was when I was punished, but it was much more loving this time. We spent most nights on the couch, with my head in her lap as we watched movies. After that, I spent every break back at home in diapers.

      1. She did. I am aware that is sounds far fetched, but it’s really not. My mom is amazing and she would do anything for me. It was a little awkward at first and she was worried it was crossing some weird incestuous line, but we discussed it at length and she felt better about it after I explained that it wasn’t a sexual thing for me.

        At first, she was really nice and polite about the whole thing. Always making sure I was okay and giving me a ton of attention, because she was worried I would have a full blown mental breakdown. When I explained that the thing that soothed my mind was the punishment aspect of being diapered, she got really worried about the kink side of my interests. It took a lot of talking to explain that when it was a punishment, embarrassing and humiliating, it really made me feel like someone else was in control. The only way to get my stress under control was to know I wasn’t in control.

        After that, it went back to the way it was when I was younger. She let me do my own thing for the most part, but would come to check my diaper several times a day. She gave me a bed time and would make me eat all of my vegetables. She spanked me one time for using the toilet in the middle of the night when I was half asleep, but she said spanking me crossed the line for her. Instead she used other punishments, like corner time and early bed time.

        These days, diapers are still not a sexual thing for me. It’s very much about stress relief and giving up control. However, in a relationship sense, it is a key component in things that do sexually arouse me. My boyfriend is very understanding and I get diapers every night and most weekends and I try to make it worth his while. He gets to have fun with his dominant side with a very pliable and eager to please girl. 😀

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