My privacy is important, so for the sake of this letter I will refer to myself as Becky. Why Becky? Because Becky was the girl that used to pick on me in high school, so fuck her. Anyway, I am currently 28 years old and a lifelong AB/DL.
Growing up, I always wanted to be back in diapers. My aunt and cousins still talk about how I used to try to steal diapers from the diaper bags of visiting mothers. They don’t know the truth. They simply think it was an odd childhood quirk. My mother, on the other hand, discovered my fetish after I hit puberty. Using my allowance and money I got for holidays and birthday, I would buy the largest size Pampers which fit me until I almost fifteen. Mom gave me the sex talk and asked me about my interests, but I was too embarrassed to answer. Instead she just told me it was normal, but that others might tease me if they knew and suggested that I keep it a secret. Obvious advice, but she meant well.
There were a few times she got upset with me over my fetish. Specifically the times I was saving up for something and caved in to buy diapers. She sent me to therapy, which helped our relationship a lot. The therapist helped me understand that Mom just wanted to be there for me. She helped Mom to understand that my fetish had become sexualized and that is why I was so opposed to discussing it with her. In the end, the therapist discovered that I was spending so much money on diapers because I was still buying Pampers and taping several together to make them fit. I nearly lost my mind when she explained that adult diapers were a thing.
At first, I was buying the cheap store brand diapers. They were great compared to modified Pampers, but then I got my first taste of M4s and knew I would never go back. I wore them to bed every night and under my clothes any time I was going to be home most of the day. Mom knew I was wearing them, but pretended not to notice. She would just give me a head’s up if we had visitors coming over, so I could go change.
Things changed a bit when I was nineteen. I had just taken a year off after high school, but Mom was pressuring me to register for the following year. I kept putting it off, because I still hadn’t decided what I wanted to study, and ended up missing the deadline. Mom was furious and had a meltdown. She was convinced that I missed the deadline on purpose, because I just wanted to sit around and act like a baby all day. We had a massive fight and I ended up leaving to stay with a friend.
After a few days away, I went back home to find Mom still quite upset. I followed her into the kitchen where she had all of my kink stuff laid out on the table. Diapers, pacifiers, stories I had printed off the internet – everything. I couldn’t even form words as she turned to me and laid down the law. She told me if I wanted to be a baby so badly, that is exactly how I would be treated. Then she picked up one of the particularly long stories and commented about how worn and earmarked the pages were, meaning this was clearly my favorite story, and would be the basis for my new life until the following semester started. At that point, I could go back to being a grown up.
I was torn. Part of me was insanely excited about the prospect of living my fantasy, but the other part of me knew it just wasn’t the same when my mother was enforcing it. When she took hold of my ear (just like in the story), I knew I wasn’t being given a choice. She twisted my lobe painfully until I followed her lead and laid across her lap. Just like in the story, she twisted my arm around to trap me in place and picked up a wooden spoon and began paddling my ass through the thin yoga pants I wore. I had only ever spanked myself before and this was not even remotely the same. The pain was unbearable after only a few strokes, but she kept going until I was sobbing and begging for her to stop.
When she finally finished spanking me, she took advantage of my acquiescence and stripped me of all my clothes. After laying me on the floor, she slid one of the M4s under my butt, sprinkled me with way too much powder and taped up the diaper. She helped me stand up, then pulled my skimpiest half shirt over my head, which ironically said Baby Girl. After that, she shoved my nose in the corner and insisted that if I so much as turned to look elsewhere, she would give me a harder spanking. She remarked that children should get one minute of time out per year of age, but she thought an big baby should get five minutes per year, so I stood in the corner too afraid to turn around for over 90 minutes.
After my time out, she had dinner ready. We had always just eaten meals wherever we wanted, but she insisted that we eat at the table. She made a meal she knew I didn’t like – giving me a triple helping of green beans, which I despise. Even worse, she had filled my own baby bottle with water to accompany my meal, which made it hard to wash down the disgusting food. Again, she threatened me with another spanking if I didn’t finish my entire plate.
After dinner, she made me go to bed even though it was only 8pm. She insisted that babies needed lots of sleep and warned me about getting out of bed before she came to get me in the morning. As I walked toward my room, she told me she would be locking the bathroom door.
I actually fell asleep pretty fast, but woke up a few hours later needing to pee. I had wet my diapers many times, but this time was different. Mom would be checking my diaper and it would just be a type of humiliation I didn’t want to experience. The house was quiet, so I decided to sneak to the bathroom, but found it locked as promised. My next option was to sneak outside and pee in the bushes, but as I crept down the hallway I heard Mom holler from her room – “If you’re out of bed, you’re going to be a sorry girl.” I tiptoed back to bed as quickly as possible and acted like I was asleep. A minute later, Mom opened the door to check on me and then went back to bed. It didn’t take long for my bladder to win the war of wills and I soaked the diaper.
Mom came in the morning and changed my diaper. It was so humiliating to have her wiping the pee from my diaper area, but she insisted she had done it thousand times before. We had oatmeal for breakfast, which made me realize I was going to have to poop very soon and the idea of doing that in a diaper seemed impossible. When the urge grew too strong, I asked Mom to let me use the toilet and she refused. I tried to convince her how disgusting it would be to change, but she was adamant. I grew flustered and accidentally shouting out “FUCK” as a cramp hit extra hard. Mom picked up the same wooden spoon and gave me several hard swats on the tops of my thighs and made me stand in the corner again.
Within a few minutes, I lost control and pooped in my diaper. The humiliation was utterly horrendous and I began to bawl loudly. She made me stand there for about twenty minutes until the bawling subsided, then pulled me out of the corner. She told me that she sick and tired of my fetish controlling my life and if I didn’t start getting my shit straightened out, she would make sure I never wanted to see another diaper ever again. She told me my punishment was over and to go get cleaned up, but if I wasn’t in school the following term she was going to kick me out of the house.
I learned my lesson and started college a few months later. I now have my Master’s Degree and I’m well on my way to a successful career. These days I have a boyfriend that is also my ‘daddy’. He diapers me and spanks me when I’m bad. Unsurprisingly, I rather enjoy when he spanks me, but sometimes I do have flashbacks to the time my mother spanked me and it makes me cry harder than expected.
And in case you were wondering, this story is absolutely true. It really did happen. I’ve had several people insist I either made it up or I have some sort of mental block, but it was a real experience.