Didee DiapeRS

OF BOYS

AND

DIAPERS

A Truthful Account on

How a Diaper

Seduced his

Bedwetting Boy

into Pooping and More!

WARNING - Our learning and our communicating abilities, and our abilities to predict each other’s movements come from a specific kind of neurons called mirror-neurons, nerve cells which react by activating in our brain the same motor neuron sequence in a more or less virtual way as seeing or perceived in others around us (e.g. if you see someone eat you’ll unconsciously will active your mouth muscle neural sequence). This explains, for instance, our ability to feel empathy when we see someone getting hurt or… having his diaper changed. In other words, mirror neurons are at the very foundation of our imitating capacities and thanks to them we can learn by emulating other people’s action, including verbal behaviour, because we have the ability to feel what they are doing, since we have the wired-in capacity to reproduce their own neural patterns of action.

At the same time though, the discovery of the mirror cells confirms the so called “memes-theory”, according to which every thought, feeling and anything else running through our mind is a sort of virus aiming at its own replication in other brains (by imitation – e.g. the spreading of an idea, a song, a proverb, etc., etc.) or within the same brain (by inner repetition – e.g. obsessive thoughts, like tunes you cannot get out of your mind once triggered by a memory, an event or else). If you are obsessed with your diaper this is your story… DON’T read it! The ideas in this account will take a foothold in your brain never to leave it again and your diaper will take over – no turning point will be more possible after that!

If you do decide to read it, you should know that this account was written by… a diaper! Of course it wasn’t a diaper sitting in front of a computer and typing it in, but a person whose mind was so haunted by his diaper, that you could actually say the diaper dictated the account to him. And all the diapery ideas and obsessions replicated themselves in the shape of words, building a huge, powerful diaper-meme, eager to invade your mind and that of others.

The protagonists are a nine-year-old boy and his diaper. A boy was chosen because diapers are mainly a boy-thing. Deeker has explained this in the best way one can think of in his “The Girls’ Guide to Diapering Boys”. The boys’ fascination and ease with dirty things and being dirty (not wiping off their bottoms in the toilet, showing off when farting, not caring about the yellow and brown skids on their underwear, etc.) compared to girls. The external genitalia which make boys more sensitive to everything happening to them, including peeing, feeling bulky diapers pressed against them, feeling baby cream or baby powder applied to them, etc. The higher degree of narcissism who makes them more inclined to be watched while having their diapers changed or while wearing a diaper. Most important of all, all these factors reinforce each other because by differentiating boys from girls make the former, not wanting to identify with latter, more inline to indulge in them. This also explains why when watching a mom (diaper changers are usually females) changing a baby’s diaper, a girl identifies with the mom rather than the baby, whereas the boy (lacking any maternal instinct) cannot but (want to) identify with the baby.

A nine-year-old boy was chosen because even though the fascination for diapers starts much earlier in boys, the idea of a boy, who has supposedly well passed the time when wearing diapers is normal, wearing diapers builds a stronger and more enticing contrast. The age of the boy was also chosen because it fitted better the pre-sexual feelings (in an adult sense) the diaper causes in a boy compared to an adolescent, to underline the more deeply rooted character of diaper obsession in the boy’s own biography. Most male diaper wearers, no matter what their age, still are that older-than-diaper-age boy who wants and/or has to wear diapers. This is why this accounts speaks to you, touching your most inner, intimate feelings. After all, it is your diaper who wrote it and as you well know… Diaper knows better!

The boy’s name is obviously your name, whereas the diaper has no need of a name – what would it do with it? It is at the same time one and many, the diaper you wet yesterday is the same you are wearing today and it will be the same diaper you are pooping tomorrow. It will haunt you forever.

It came from inner space

Why on earth did he start wetting his bed? A seemingly normal development until his ninth year, lots of outdoor activities, good school notes, friends to play with and then… this! What went wrong? what was going wrong? As the uninvited horrible guest made its first appearance in the form of a huge wet spot on his bed one morning, everyone in the family thought of an accident. What else should they have thought? But then the “guest” came back a few days later, and a third time, and the “visits” took place more and more frequently.

The doctor couldn’t see anything wrong with the boy’s physiology and said that there were many boys still wetting the bed at his age, though, he admitted, it was quite uncommon for a boy of nine to start wetting the bed, rather than being still a bed wetter. Had there been an event in the family which might have triggered the boy’s wetting the bed? Like the arrival of a new brother? Were the parents separating? “No, no!”, assured the mother. At any rate, the doctor said the problem could be handled easily nowadays and, “Thank God!” he said, without need to recur to horrible diapers humiliating the boy even further by making him feel like a small baby! “The diaper suggests and confirms to a bed wetting boy a regressive message which grows stronger at every night” warned the doctor with a stern voice. He switched then to a more cheerful tone of the voice and said that the preferred options among today’s parents were bed wetting alarms or nasal sprays and the results were usually quite satisfactory in a short time. Both remedies were available at every chemist’s.

Mhh, bed wetting alarms? It sounded so cold, “so mechanical!” thought the mother as she left the doctor’s. Nasal sprays? Chemicals in her boy’s body? At such a young age? “Mhh, I don’t know…” And all that pseudo-psycho crap about diapers and regression! The mother’s doubts reverberated in her conversations with the father and the sister, and the word ‘diapers’ made its appearance more and more frequently. Thus, despite the doctor’s advice, folk wisdom – “bed wetting boys have always worn diapers and no harm ever came from it!” – and family tradition – there had been other bed wetting boys among the cousins and the parents’ brothers who eventually grew out of their nocturnal “habit” – prevailed and ‘diapers’ it was.

The boy did not hear what the doctor told his mother, as he had been sent out after the examination, and was completely unaware of the animated talks between his parents and sister concerning his problem and the possible “solutions”. But he was eventually informed about the family’s idea on how to handle his bed wetting one evening at dinner. He jumped as he heard the word ‘diapers’ peeking through the know-everything mouths of the older members of the family! The boy couldn’t believe his ears! They wanted him to wear diapers to bed? Like a damn baby? O, but they weren’t baby diapers, they were pull up diapers especially made for boys “like you”. Maybe ‘diapers’ was not even the correct word, because, they insisted, they were more like slightly-thicker-than-normal underwear he would be able to put on all by himself. The boy did not seem at all relieved to hear that, though he admitted that changing bed sheets every day was no longer an option, but weren’t there alternatives? There must have been! “No” lied the family in unison. And that was final.

The pull-ups weren’t actually so bad, he admitted to himself, that night. After all they were indeed “slightly-thicker-than-normal underwear”. So, it wasn’t so much the real feeling he got by wearing them that seemed to trouble him. What was haunting him was the word initially used to designate them, ‘diapers’. That word assumed a totally different meaning in his life now. No matter how much he repeated to himself the expression “slightly-thicker-than-normal underwear”, bumping into a diaper – that word! – commercial on TV would have a completely different, embarrassing effect on him now, especially as he could feel or imagine his parents and older sister looking at him with a badly hidden smile on their face while the commercial went on.

That feeling was not totally new, however… When did he last feel like that? O, yeah, when he was four – or five? – and while playing alone in his room with a towel folded like a diaper between his thighs, his sister suddenly came in and found him like that. He could still remember how that very evening all his family came into the room as he went to bed and his mother was holding an open pair of plastic pants in her hands! His sister obviously told mommy and daddy of his private, intimate game! They all smiled and laughed as he screamed “No! No! NOO!” while his mother was approaching the bed with the threatening plastic pants, which she still had kept for some reason since his babyhood. She waved the plastic pants back and forth, holding them with her hands. And the plastic pants got nearer and nearer, looking like a strange animal, a sort of alien creature about to eat him up! And then, suddenly, after a final laughter they all left. It was only a joke! He did not know then, the delight grown ups take by pulling their children’s leg and make them believe things. The matter was soon forgotten. Or was it?

That memory triggered in him many other diaper related experiences he thought he had forgotten, but which now began to fit in a growingly unsettling, disturbing puzzle. The first memory was of when he witnessed – he must have been six – his aunt diapering his non-cooperative eighteen-months-old cousin. For some reason the baby did not want to be diapered again after the bath and auntie had to take him by force, lifting him by his legs and putting him back on the changing table, fastening the diaper while he wildly kicked his legs and cried. He could remember now how affected he was by the scene, how uneasy he felt, in the wrong place and yet unwilling to leave, drawn by the curiosity of such a powerful, emotional event taking place before his very eyes. The unsympathetic attitude of the aunt in contrast with the shouting and crying of the baby raised in him opposite emotions and feelings. On one hand he was glad his auntie was being so firm, because that little brat certainly needed a lesson! But on the other hand he felt – even more? – sorry for the baby – he was so defenceless, so much in the power of the mother, nowhere to escape, his strength could never possibly match hers! He remembered also that while he was watching all this, he made himself smaller, unnoticeable, as he retracted into a corner, fearing, God knows why, that had he made himself visible – let alone heard! – he would have gotten the same treatment! What did auntie say? “There is no use in behaving like that, young man, all babies must wear diapers. And whether you like it or not I am going to put this diaper on you and you will behave like a good baby boy wearing his diaper!” My God, he remembered the words! And what words! So powerful, so commanding, as if nothing in the world could possibly counteract their meaning and effect. Those word performed the very action they designated while they were spoken, by being spoken, like a spell!

He also remembered now how a year or more later the same cousin was one day first teased and then scolded by auntie in front of everybody for not wanting to have his diaper taken off and start potty training “like every other boy of your age!”. “What?! Such a big boy still wearing diapers like a little baby!?”, would say grandma, “Don’t you want to use the potty like all other big boys like you do?” His cousin would look down and shake vigorously his head. “Well let’s at least have that diaper changed”, said his mother, “But here, in front of everybody, so they all can see what a baby you still are!”. And as the boy saw his cousin being changed in the living room, in front of the whole giggling family, he remembered seeing his little cousin toying with a little car, completely indifferent, almost bored, as if that diaper change was the most normal thing in the world. They exchanged glances only for a moment, and his cousin smiled at him! With no trace of shame nor embarrassment. He felt scared, as if his cousin wanted to draw him into a sort of sordid complicity, there, in front of the rest of the family! On the other hand, he could not help admitting that the little brat had had it the way he wanted, he resisted the pressure of the whole family, but why would someone do something like that? To carry on wearing a stupid diaper? His cousin would then resume his play with the car on the carpet, following the streets represented by the carpet patterns, only in his diaper. As he joined his cousin in the play, he could watch him closely, assuming all possible postures – sitting on the floor, lying on the belly, on his side, standing on his knees, bending forward, then sitting on his feet while his heels pressed against the diaper, legs open, legs folded – and with every new posture the diaper bulge would change shape and direction, adjusting to the movements of the very active young athlete. He was so close to his cousin he could hear the plastic of the disposable diaper crinkle at every move, the manifold plies dynamically changing orientation and width. His cousin looked so natural in that diaper, as no other garment in the world would fit him better. But that was two years ago. Surely his cousin was not wearing diapers anymore!

One more memory came up during the daydreaming of those “slightly-thicker-than-normal underwear” days. Something he thought he had forgotten, it was so long ago that he was not even sure it ever happened. But there was this vague memory of sleeping at another auntie’s home. It was afternoon. Only one, more? He could not remember, but he knew he was older than a baby or a toddler, but for some reason his auntie would put him to sleep in diapers and plastic pants. And that was strange, because as far as he could remember, he did not wear diapers to bed nor wet his bed after age three. And why on earth did he tell his friends, not long before he started wetting the bed, that his first memory in life was of his mother changing his diapers? He wished now that he had never said something so stupid! His friends didn’t seem to believe him, though. “How can one possibly remember such a thing? You were so small!”

One other time – how long ago? – he remembered playing at the house of a cousin of a friend of his. While barging around his room, he ended on his bed and threw his hand under the pillow. What was there? He lifted, unnoticed, the pillow for a short moment and saw a pair of plastic pants. They were so big! He did not even know they were making them so big! And why were they there? For some reason, however, he did not raise the subject with his friend as they went back home. Was it embarrassment? Politeness? Fear?

Diaper related memories kept on making their appearance in his mind. One would have thought his life consisted of nothing else than diapers and plastic pants! But it was exactly like when you meet someone for the first time and then you keep on bumping in him in the most various places and occasions. But that does not mean that you follow him – you are simply more aware now of a face which was there also before, but you did not notice, because you did not know it.

He remembered also that one morning, God knows when, he was at the house of a friend of his sister and was looking for the toilet only to find an eight-year-old boy in diapers getting into the shower! He stopped on the threshold and turned back, not saying a word to his sister. What made him feel such a respect and solidarity toward diaper wearing children, no matter their age? He did not know, but he remembered that on another occasion, when the family was at grandma’s birthday, one of his cousins, a five-year-old boy, would come into the living room asking if he could have one of the other kid’s dinosaurs, saying “Mommy can I have a d…” he hesitated just a bit and one of the men said “Diaper? You want a diaper?” Everybody in the room stopped talking and looked smiling at the five-year-old kid, as if waiting for an amusing confession. One could tell, the little kid did not have a clue as to why and how he got himself in that situation. All those damn adults, always embarrassing little kids with their jokes! And why would they pick so often on the diaper thing! As he remembered vividly the scene, he saw himself feeling sorry for his cousin, though, again, not saying or doing anything to take his part. What was he afraid of?

All these memories! But why? What were they trying to say to him? At any rate, he was glad he did not have to wear one of those diapers!

Alas, no words were ever spoken so soon! As it didn’t take long before the dreaded wet cold spots made their appearance again in the boy’s morning bed. And the spots grew in size with every day, as if mocking him! Ha! Ha! he thought he could hear in his mind, as the “slightly-thicker-than-normal underwear” seemed to cope less and less with the growing amount of pee his body would release in his sleep. It was as if some inner force made itself more and more apparent, to make a point, yearning for something, demanding something the boy couldn’t possibly fathom. “Where does it all come from?” would he wonder desperately, “How can it be possible?” “You drink a lot, sweetheart, maybe you could drink a little less in the evening?” would say mom. But he was thirsty! He did not know why, but he had to drink, and drink a lot! Common wisdom has it, that drinking lots of fluids is healthy and the mother didn’t insist with her suggestion to reduce it, but the situation was now the same it was before – wet sheets had to be changed everyday…

Eventually the family decided to go for the real thing, a disposable diaper stuffed with a cloth soaker. “But mom! These look like real baby diapers!”, he said as he first saw them lying on his bed that night. “I know, sweetheart, let’s try them for a week and see how you are doing. Now get your underwear off and jump on the bed and I will help you putting them on.” What? Having to wear a real baby diaper was bad enough, but to be diapered like a baby! “O, please, please! I’ll do it by myself, but go away, please!” he begged with a feeble voice turning into a whimper. “O, sweetheart, but you can’t put them on by yourself, there is the cream and the powder and all that …” “Yes, I can! I can! I am no baby!” he cried, “Go away, go away!”

The commotion attracted his father and his sister into the room. “What’s going on? Is someone making stories here?” “He says he doesn’t want me to help him with the diaper…” “Does he think he can do that by himself?” said his sister, “Nonsense! A nine-year-old cannot put on a diaper by himself!” “I am no baby! I am no baa-by!” the boy whined and sobbed as he refused to get on the bed. “You say you are no baby but you are behaving like one right now!” shouted his father, “Now get off that underwear and get on that bed!” The boy whined even louder, keeping his head down, and his mother said “There is no use in behaving like that, young man, all bed wetting boys must wear diapers. And whether you like it or not I am going to put this diaper on you and you will behave like a good bed wetting boy wearing his diaper!” Those words… again! The words of power! He had to obey! There was nothing else he could do!

He stopped, as if in a trance, sniffing every now and then, not realising his sister was taking off his underwear, though cooperating with her by lifting his legs. He mounted on the bed, laying his little bottom on the back of the soft diaper and laid down. “Good boy!” said everybody, “It is only a trial, nobody needs to know!”. He remained silent as the diaper rose between his legs and covered his belly, until his mother fastened the diaper tapes and then… the front part of a pair of plastic pants made its appearance between his thighs and jumped on his diaper! He did not know they were there too, as they had been hidden by the diaper. That wasn’t a memory! It was all real, happening right to him! And as the plastic pants buttons snapped one after the other, the scene of the plastic pants “joke” when he was four or five would repeat itself in his mind – “No! No! Noo!” he feebly moaned again. Only this time they did not go away! His dad, his sister, his mom stayed in the room, no smiles, no laughter, only a busy activity he couldn’t control nor grasp in its entirety. “No! No! Noo!”, but the plastic pants were already wrapped around his diaper, sealing his fate, certifying his condition as a little helpless child who had to wear diapers for wetting at night. And it was as if, after all those memories, after all those diaper scenes, after years of lurking in the back of his mind, the diaper had finally got him, enjoying his long awaited prey. He was the bed wetting boy wearing diapers and plastic pants at night, he was his cousin forced to wear a diaper while screaming and crying, he was himself finally trapped into the plastic pants his mother waved in front of him. A quick look at the huge and soft bulk which covered his boyhood and belly, keeping his thighs apart like those of a baby and he was again at his auntie’s home, put in diapers before sleep – a timeless image for a never ending destiny! And no matter how often his mother would keep saying “It is for your own good, sweetheart. It is only for a week, only for a week…”, he was certain that all that would have lasted for ever!

The Night of the Living Diaper

“A nine-year-old boy wearing diapers like a baby!” he thought again as went to bed that night. He had been wearing the thick new baby-like diapers for almost a week, soaking them every night. After a couple of days, nobody said “Let’s try them for a week and see how you are doing” any more, as he was obviously doing pretty bad.

Apparently nobody else apart from his family knew he was wetting at night and wearing really thick diapers for that. “Nobody needs to know!”, had said his parents. When he was at school or playing with his friends everything was normal, like before. Fortunately no offer of sleepover had come in the last few weeks, as he wouldn’t have known what kind of excuse to make up to reject it. Yes, everything was normal, except for the fact that during the day he felt more often an itch behind his little penis, telling him it was time to pee. His attention got more attracted to peeing and all related things. He would stand in front of the toilet, holding his little penis and watching it peeing. It was so small, like a baby pee pee, like a pacifier – why did he think of that! – no wonder such a small pee pee could hold so little! He wish it grew, to become like a big boy’s dick, strong enough to hold all the pee it wanted! The size of his pee pee would convince him that he was not strong enough to keep the pee inside his body, no wonder he was wetting at night! “Grow! Grow!” he would say, but in the meantime he had to experience the irritating fact that he was not totally in control of his body. Of course he could stand up, sit, walk, do all these movements by commanding them, but “down there” something else was in charge…

“Nobody needs to know!” But when he was at home, everyone knew and everything reminded him of what he was – a bed wetting boy wearing real baby diapers! The plastic pants and the cloth soakers hanging boastfully in the laundry room, the drawers ominously hosting more plastic pants and diapers ready to sneak out and attack him at night! And the disgraceful manner in which his sister and parents would mention the word ‘diapers’ at the earliest occasion! “Mom, where are my leggings?” “In the laundry, honey, right behind your brother’s diapers!” or “I am going shopping, do we have enough diapers for him?” “Well, just buy one more pack, dear, just to be sure!” Well, thank God nobody needed to know, because they sure were making everything to let him know!

He sought to divert his mind from the subject whenever he was alone. He would then imagine the building site near school, where a huge excavator was digging holes with an incredible ease. He was fascinated by the complex array of hydraulic levers which made the excavator arm so powerful and capable of every movement. Cranes were also part of his fantasy and he could fall into the wildest daydreaming when walking home from school just by picturing in his mind a crane being built one piece after the other. It was incredible how so many seemingly insignificant pieces of metal could be put together and produce as a result such a huge tower! He would then replay in his mind scenes where a load was taken up by the crane and brought to a far corner of the site or at the top of the future building. Just like that!

And yet, as he walked, the diaper memories and thoughts would eventually creep in and replace cool excavators and cranes with their outrageous imagery and bragging soundtrack. The memories became more vivid and detailed at every appearance. He could see now, for instance, his cousin’s little pee pee bouncing up and down, right and left, as he shook his legs, protesting against the forced diapering auntie was performing on him. And as the dramatic scene repeated itself in his mind, he could feel his heart beating faster and faster! “There is no use in behaving like that, young man, all babies must wear diapers. And whether you like it or not I am going to put this diaper on you and you will behave like a good baby boy wearing his diaper!” - Those words again, and again, and again! Each time more and more amplified by the furious rustling of the diaper’s plastics as the crying and kicking boy’s pee pee and belly were suffocated by the white monster! He could remember also how drenched and messy his cousin’s diaper was a year later, as he got changed in the living room, auntie roughly lifting his legs and wiping his dirty butt with rude brushes of her hand! “Diaper? You want a diaper?” his uncle’s words resounded, challenging him! “What?! Such a big boy still wearing diapers like a little baby!?”, would repeat grandma, “Don’t you want to use the potty like all other big boys like you do?” “Diaper? You want a diaper?” “Well let’s put him a diaper here, in front of everybody, so they all can see what a baby he still is!” And he would know see clearly the plastic pants his mother waved in front of him when he was smaller – their clumsy quasi-hourglass shape, the metal buttons making it look like a hostile many-eyed alien creature, a sort of mutilated octopus ready to stick to his butt and belly never to let go!

The imagery and voices would then become so intolerable at this stage, that he would usually catch himself running instead of walking, his heart beating like a terrorised bird. Fortunately his dog’s unexpected jumping on him, to celebrate his return in the most happy way, would make him forget for a moment all those frightening memories. He loved his dog! That big jumping puppy, rescuing him from all his troubles with a happy “woof!” and pushing his nose all over him, lapping him on the face. He was the only one in the family who had not changed his attitude toward him since the whole wetting thing started. He could feel his dog loved him unconditionally, no matter what!

But there he was. Lying in bed after a few nights with the new thick baby diaper. “A nine-year-old boy wearing diapers like a baby!”, he said again, as if reproaching himself. And no matter what he did to try to forget about “them”, with every move he made he couldn’t fail to feel the snoopy bulk of the thick diaper which made him feel so clumsy and helpless. He could rest only on his belly or his back, his legs involuntarily stretching and folding in the most stupid, babyish ways! Lying on the side was out of question. At least until the morning, when the soaked diaper would finally give its permission to assume that posture.

What seemed worse to him, however, was that at the slightest turn of his legs or waist the stern rustle of the plastic pants reminded him of why he had to wear them. He did not know what to do, because if he stopped moving to silence once and for all the horrible swishing of the plastic pants he would have the disturbing feeling that the diaper, sticking tightly to his belly thanks to the baby cream, got even bulkier and more intrusive than before. He would than start to jerk his abdomen and twitch his legs to and fro to get rid of that haunting presence, only to be mocked once again by the plastic pants rustling and hissing louder than ever.

Removing the diaper with the hands was a non starter, as long before they even approached the white monster, he would hear again in his mind the voice of his mother saying: “There is no use in behaving like that, young man, all bed wetting boys must wear diapers. And whether you like it or not I am going to put this diaper on you and you will behave like a good bed wetting boy wearing his diaper!” The vivid memory of the cold coming from the huge wet spot he used to lie in until a few days before would then make the hands step back as far as they could.

So there he was. Trapped between the intolerable crinkling of the plastic pants and the impossible dullness of the diaper bulging between his thighs. “Just like a damn baby!” he thought, “A damn little baby wearing damn diapers! I hate diapers!”. The only way to break that infernal cycle was, eventually, to lie on his belly and bang his head on the pillow hundreds of times, as he used to do since he was a baby – so told him mom – to tire himself to sleep. For some reason, he thought the banging would cancel out all the offensive swishes he had to endure before and make the unyielding bulk of the diaper pressed against his buttocks more bearable. Bang! Bang! Bang! Images of the day flashed before his inner eyes like a slide show. Bang! Bang! Bang! His teacher, his schoolmates, the playground… Bang! Bang! Bang! His bicycle, his skateboard… Bang! Bang! Ordinary images of the life of a normal nine-year-old boy. Bang! Bang! The garden. Bang! The street. Bang! No diapers, no wet beds… Bang! Just he and his normal life. Bang! Baby? Bang! Cranes. Bang! The excavator. Baby? Bang! Bang! Bang! His dog…

He drifted away, in the soundest of sleeps. The room fell into a perfect silence, the dull furniture in the darkness mirroring the numbness of the boy’s limbs on the bed. And while only a gentle movement of the quilt gave away the boy’s breathing, the same quilt hid the still activity of a diaper that carried out its patient duty. Or did it? Was it just duty? “To protect and to serve”? Or was there a hidden agenda? Something more in line with what the doctor said, namely “The diaper suggests and confirms to a bed wetting boy a regressive message which grows stronger at every night”?

Like an army of very tiny ants, the diaper’s fibres continued their relentless tickling of the boy’s skin, either because the boy’s breathing induced micro-movements to the parts in contact with the diaper, or because of the tiniest electrical tensions induced by the very small difference of charge between the skin and the cloth. His dermal receptors buzzed with activity and kept firing messages to his brain. The proprioceptors located in the muscles of the thighs and the abdomen, activated by the micro-spasm of the muscles which naturally contribute to our muscular tone, signalled the resistance coming from the cumbersome presence of the diaper. “It is still out there” they seemed to say to the brain, “It won’t go!” confirmed others. A concert of voices started in the background of the boy’s unconscious mind, as the neurons humming activity cascaded all over the brain.

“What shall we do?”

“Is it ok to pee?”

“How can we get rid of it?”

“Why are we wearing one? Are we still a baby?”

“Should we get rid of it?”

“Is it ok to pee?”

“Shut up! Is it still out there?”

“It sure is”

“But we need to pee!”

“Stop it! Can’t you see the trouble you caused already?”

Baby?

“Who said that?”

“I told you we were still a baby!”

“It wasn’t me! Stop blaming me for everything!”

Baby? Can you hear me?

“O my God! I think it is the thing out there talking!”

“What thing?”

“Is it ok to pee now?”

“The thing… er… the diaper!”

“Don’t say that word! you crazy?”

“Diaper? I knew we were still a baby!”

“Is it ok to peeeeeeeeeeeee?”

“No! you fool! We must think of an evasive manoeuvre!”

Baby! It’s me! I am here, you can pee all right…

“Don’t you even think of listening to that!”

“But we are a baby!!”

“Pee, pee!”

“Stop it, both of you!!”

“Sorry guys, this is the bladder control centre, we have a situation here…”

Baa-bee! Pee pee time!

“What situation?”

“The diaper spoke again!”

“Er, well the pressure is mounting and at this pace it won’t be long before…”

“Is it ok to peeeeeeee, please!”

“All right, evasive manoeuvre, everybody at his place – we must get the boy awake now!”

Baa-bee, yo’ didee iz weady fo’ yo’ pee…

“O my God, do you hear that? Our diaper says we can pee!”

“It is not our diaper, you idiot! Get this boy awake now! Come on! Come on! Come on!”

The boy broke his paralysis, but only to fold his left leg, his knee at the level of the waist, and to turn his face to the other side.

“You call that an evasive manoeuvre? He barely moved! And he is still as asleep as before!”

“Sorry again guys, but the situation here is critical…”

“But we are a baby! Can’t we just pee?”

Ba-bee, pee pee! Baby, pee! Pee, baby!

“Peeeeeeeeeeeee!”

“Good baby boys make lots of pee in their diapers!”

“Yeah! Pee pee! We love diapers and peeing in them!”

“You all crazy? What has happened to you? Get this boy on his feet now!”

Baa-beee!

“Sorry, guys, but we must open the gates…”

“We wike peeing in our didees!”

“O no! Not again!”

From the cute little kid’s boyhood a joyful, growing creek of pee turned into a stream, flooding the diaper’s surface below it. At every instant little ponds quickly formed, grew and sank into the diaper, while the crystalline, baby-like pee infused throughout the whole depth of the fabric as far as the plastic barrier, releasing its cosy warmth all around. And as the bladder happily relinquished its precious content in an intense jolt, the diaper managed to accommodate every molecule of water into its more than welcoming recesses. It drank eagerly every droplet of the boy’s fluid, assimilating it into its tissue, making it its very own, happy to feel this most intimate nectar of his became a part of its texture.

The warm wetness began radiating a sort of magical energy. And as the boy’s body turned on his back, the light friction of his private parts against the drenched diaper triggered a new neural tempest. The brain choir began to speak again, but in a higher pitch, at first babbling and chuckling like baby voices, then gradually forming words and “sentences”...

“Ba, ba, ba, bah!”

“Goo! Goo! Goo!”

“Hee, hee, hee, hee!”

“Pee, pee! Wee! Wee!”

My baby wikes to be cuddled by his wet didee?

“Hee, hee, goo, goo!”

“Pee, pee, baby, goo!”

“Pee, baby, didee!”

“Didee, baby, pee!”

Is my baby happy in his wet diaper?

“Baby, wee wee, baby, pee didees!”

“Diaper, diaper, diaper, diaper, diaper…”

“Pee, baby, diaper!”

“Diaper, baby, pee!”

It is time to go through our hypnosis routine again…

“Diaper baby pee pee baby diaper!”

“Diaper baby boy, wet baby diaper!”

Good boys wear diapers to bed

“Good boys wear diapers to bed!”

“Diapers!”

Good boys wet their diapers every night

“Good boys wet their diapers every night!”

“Wet every night!”

Good boys love their diapers more than anything

“Good boys love their diapers more than anything!”

“More than anything!”

Good boys want to be babies again

“Good boys want to be babies again!”

“Babies!”

Good boys will be babies again because they love their diaper and do what the diaper says

“Good boys will be babies again because they love their diaper and do what the diaper says”

“Good boys will be babies again because they love their diaper and do what the diaper says”

“Good boys will be babies again because they love their diaper and do what the diaper says”

“Good boys will be babies again…”

And as the choir began chanting with one voice, the boy started dreaming. He was on the playground ready to strike, when he saw he was wearing nothing but a thick diaper covered by the whitest plastic pants. Kids all around him looked at him and giggled and said things one another: “A diaper!?”, “What?! Such a big boy still wearing diapers like a little baby!?”. He stroke and began to run, but the bulge of the diaper made him feel so goofy, and the kids laughed their heads off, and he wanted to run faster and faster, away from there! At every step the plastic pants rustled louder and louder swish, swoosh, swish, swoosh, SWISH, SWOOSH!

He was safe in his room now, safe and… naked! And the room! He barely recognized it – stacks of cloth diapers and disposable diapers lined up against the walls, hundreds of open, unsnapped plastic pants hanging from the ceiling, waiving to and fro, brushing his face as he moved through them, the floor covered with baby pants caressing his feet. The rustling plastic pants carried on their unsettling, merciless chant: Swish! Swoosh! Swish! Swoosh! On the bed a pair of open plastic pants matched on top by an open disposable diaper offering a thick cloth soaker in its middle section lured him in insidiously: “Baby boy, it’s time for your thicky baby diaper! Little baby boys must wear diapers ‘cause they can’t hold their pee and wet themselves! Come here! Come! ”. And a voice said “There is no use in behaving like that, young man, all babies must wear diapers. And whether you like it or not I am going to put this diaper on you and you will behave like a good baby boy wearing his diaper!”

He looked down and he saw his cousin wearing diapers and playing with a toy car amidst the plastic pants on the floor. His cousin looked up at him and smiled, smiled and pointed his finger to the bed, where the open diaper was beckoning him! The boy wanted to flee, but he was paralyzed, trapped by the baby pants on the floor that wouldn’t let his feet move. The ceiling pants barred all escape routes! Swish, swoosh! Do as the diaper says! Swish, swoosh! Don’t make us angry! The plastic pants then grabbed his arms and lifted his body in the air, his legs grabbed by other pants wrapping their lower part around them! The plastic pants would release their grip only to allow other plastic pants nearby take their place. No! No! Noo! And bit by bit the boy was being carried around until he found himself hanging above the bed, his buttocks dangerously hovering above the rear part of the ominous diaper! He jerked and twisted, but to no avail, as his bottom began landing towards the white carnivorous plant waiting to engulf him! No! No! Noo!

Boy, boy, boy! Is this the way you like to see me?

A faint “What?” came out of the boy’s mouth as the imagery of the dream disappeared. Did he hear a voice or was it part of the dream? He lied in the dark trying to figure out whether he was asleep or awake, and if so and most importantly, whether there was someone lurking in the room or not!

After a few seconds he became aware of the overpowering bulge of the diaper. “Oh!” he moaned with disappointment, as if to say “You are still there, and I thought I managed to forget about you!”

Well, perhaps you weren’t thinking about me right now, but you haven’t done anything else in the last days and you certainly were dreaming about me a few moments ago…

There was someone in the room! Or was he making this all up?

“Who… who are you? Where are you?”

Have a wild guess…

The voice sounded like dampened, as if coming from below something...

You still haven’t figured it out?

The boy startled as he realised it came from underneath the bed’s cover! He raised the quilt in a nanosecond and prepared to jump out of the bed.

There is no need to run as I will be with… er… on you wherever you go…

“This can’t be true! Am I becoming crazy? My diaper is talking to me!!”

And you are talking to your diaper – me…

“I must be mad!” said the boy, trying not to shout.

The only thing you are mad about is me and this is why it is about time we do some open talking, the two of us.

“I want to see you, this can’t be real!”

Well, see me if you must, you got a torch in your drawer, haven’t you? But don’t expect to see any funny little mouth talking in the front of your baby pants, as even if you hear my voice coming from there, it is actually in your mind that I am speaking.

“So, I am crazy!”

Yes, but only about me said the diaper in a teasing tone.

“What do you mean! I don’t understand!”

I mean you like me more, much much more than you are willing to admit.

“What?! No way! I hate you! You ruined my nights!”

I actually saved your nights or have you forgotten the cold, soaked bed you sat in the morning?

“Well, I hate the bedwetting too!” he said with a sensitive tone.

Mhh… maybe. But I wonder why would a boy of your age start bedwetting again, as if he were a much smaller child?

“I don’t know, I don’t know! Damn it, you make it sound as if I was doing it on purpose!”

Well, of course you are not doing it on purpose. At least, not completely…

“I don’t understand!”

Well, what if I told you that there is a part of you that you are not aware of… yet. A part, which we may call your inner baby, that misses the time when you were a little baby so badly, that it wants to go back there again.

“But babies are so boring! And all that peeing and messing oneself! Yuck!”

Yeah? Boring? Yuck? You are wearing a wet diaper right now. I am drenched with a nice pee you had an hour ago. What does it feel like? I mean what does it really feel like?

The boy lied in silence, as if sulking.

All that warm, soft, cosy feeling around your private parts and buttocks? My cuddly bulk between your legs? Don’t you feel a strongest sense of protection and safety you haven’t experienced since then? And when was the last time you were shown so much interest for you, for your body? We are not talking here about a quick hug and kiss before going to school. I mean real interest… Why do you think your little cousin smiled as you looked at him lying there in the living room, having his diaper changed in front of every body? Could it be, just for the sake of the argument, that he knew that no embarrassment could ever possibly outweigh the pleasure he got from me? And what should be wrong with your pee or even your mess? Why should it be ok when it is in you and not when it comes out of you? Ever thought of that?

The boy remained silent, but one could sense that the diaper’s words were giving him quite some food for thought. Not only did the diaper talk, but it talked a lot! And the things it said! And what if the diaper was right?

You have never touched me with your hands. Why don’t you try now?

The boy was glad the room was in complete darkness, because he could feel the hot blush of his face turning red.

“C… can… can I?” he said, stammering.

Of course, go right ahead. All boys who wear diapers do that. Remember when you were a baby?

He did remember. The boy’s hand was shaking with emotion as it approached the diaper. His hand landed with a thrill on the front of the diaper, feeling the smoothness of the plastic pants.

Easy, no?

“U… huh…” he said almost reluctantly, not wanting to give away his real feeling.

Man, don’t just stay there! Explore!

And as his hand began to move about, the fingers could feel the soft plies of the plastic pants, whereas the palm sensed the thick curve of the diaper. It was so strong and fluffy at the same time! The boy’s legs jerked with emotion from time to time.

Nice, uh?

“Yea…” he spoke out shyly as his face turned even more red.

Now, think about the words you said before, that you hated me, that I ruined your nights. Think how you first felt about wearing me to bed again. Could it be that, just maybe, you were saying those things and having those feelings only because you didn’t want anyone, maybe not even yourself, to know how you really felt about me?

The boy stopped the hand’s movement. He was puzzled, he wasn’t sure he understood what the diaper just said. It was like when grown ups told him things he did not fully grasp, but knew and felt they were important and true. And the diaper was saying something very important about him! He was faced for the first time in his life by some “one” taking a very strong interest in him, in his body, in his private parts up to the point that instead of showing disgust for his pee it seemed to like him exactly because of this! The diaper must have liked him really very, very much! Like his dog did, loving him no matter what! But he was just a boy, could he really be so interesting and likeable by some “one” who wasn’t a dog, by some “one” who could speak? It was such a completely new and unexpected experience! And it was happening for real! Not to some cartoon hero, not to some TV-character, but to him!

Would you still say you hate me?

“No…” he said. He felt so sorry he had said it. No, more than sorry, ashamed. He felt again like when he was six years old and used to almost cry whenever he broke an object, like a pencil or a toy, because he thought of objects as living things and breaking them meant killing them. He did not want to hurt the diaper, he wanted to make up for what he said, he wanted to promise he would not say that ever again, and that he would be a good boy!

“No!” he repeated softly and began to caress the diaper in the same way he used to stroke his dogs after stepping on his paws and hurting him involuntarily. He stroked the diaper with the best tenderness a nine-year-old boy could express, imitating gestures seeing in others, but lacking the experience to perform them correctly, naturally, though knowing it was important to be able to express affection in that way. It was not too difficult, however. After all, the diaper did feel like a puppy doggie in his lap – or was he in the “doggie’s” lap? –, a puppy at times maybe too clumsy or nosy, but so happy and loving that one could forgive him anything!

Are you my baby?

“Y.. yeah…” said the boy softly as he kept caressing the diaper.

Will you be a good boy and show me that you really are my good baby boy?

He nodded like a little boy.

Do you feel like doing something nice for me?

He stopped caressing the diaper and nodded again.

Okay then, I want the two of us take a sort of oath, a pact, something that will make us best friends for ever.

The diaper got the whole of the boy’s attention.

Do you know that once, in the old times, friends used to make a light cut in their forearms and exchange blood by licking the wound of one another to swear reciprocal friendship and trust? It’s something like that, only that you have to poop while you are wearing me and I hold it against your buttocks and don’t let a single bit of it get out.

“Oh! But that is so messy! My mum will get mad at me!”

I don’t know – maybe, or maybe not. But this is one thing you have to decide for yourself, I can’t do it for you. You must want it. You must prove to me that you really want to be my baby. Otherwise I will just turn into a piece of stupid cloth between your legs for a while, no more talks and eventually I will go away without you feeling anything about it. Is this what you want?

“No…” hesitated the boy, “But, can’t it be something else?”

Sorry, baby. It has to be you messing me. And mind you, it has to be really messy, not just a little skid – it must be a full load, for you to show me that you really trust me and for me to show you that I can take it all and that I really care about you. If it wasn’t so difficult, if it didn’t mean trouble, it wouldn’t be worth it, would it?

“Oh!” whined the boy, “Do I really have to?”

Only if you want it. It is very important that you understand this. You must prove to me, to yourself and to your mum and others that you really are a helpless baby who can’t control himself, who needs to be diapered and taken care of. If it was just a secret between me and you it wouldn’t mean much, would it? As you could always say “O, I don’t really need my diaper as I can decide when to wear it and if to wear it or not.”. No, no, baby, if you are a baby you must wear me 24/7, not because you decide it, but because you need it! That is why I want you to perform this action with the lights on – you must see what you are doing and feel real embarrassed about it, as if the whole world was watching you!

The boy sighed and turned his bed light on. He looked at the diaper and actually saw that there was no “little mouth”, exactly like it said.

What did I tell you? Now, give it a try. You may find that you resist it at first and that your body will try to do anything within your power to hold your stool. But I am here to help you, you will see. The only thing is that you must want it.

“Mhh… ok…” said the boy, almost resigned. And instinctively he lifted his legs, as if getting ready for a diaper change. He hold the plants of his feet against each other with his hands and started pushing, more and more, but nothing seemed to come out, and finally, just a second before giving up, an impertinent fart resounded in the depths of the diaper. He burst out laughing, immediately trying to suffocate it to avoid waking up his parents.

You liked that, uh?

The boy giggled like a little kid, still trying to keep the volume as low as he could, feeling his belly jerking all over.

Ok, ok, now try harder. I want you to be more focused.

The boy resumed his position. He started pushing again, helping himself with choked grunts.

“Erg…. Erg.. Erg!”. He could begin to feel now that something waited for its moment of glory just within the threshold of his lower orifice.

You must doo doo in your didee, like a good baby boy!

“Erg! Erg! Erg!”

As the pressure mounted toward its climax, the boy contracted all the muscles of his body in a painful posture demanding a most needed release, which his sphincter however, due to years of training, still refused to concede. As the boy lied grunting on his back, his legs were trying now to strangle the bulk of the diaper in what seemed a struggle for life. But the diaper kept its promise and began to help by keeping its stronghold between the thighs and forcing them apart just enough to provide for a little flat surface against the kid’s anus.

Let go, baby! Let go! Give your doo doo to your didee, baby!

And the sphincter muscles finally took advantage of that little surface to flatten on it and relax for a nanosecond.

“Erg! Erg! Ahh!” finally moaned the boy.

Enough time and surface for the stool to have its imperious tip pass through the opening and widen it for the rest of the army to follow. A nice little cone of brown matter crawled along the bottom’s crack and stopped for a moment.

Good boy! That’s my baby! Goooood boy!

The boy could feel a warm, sticky little banana resting peacefully between his buttocks, like a new happy guest in his diaper. It felt sooo good! He immediately felt the urge to give little sweet pats on the diaper part hiding that tiny marvel. He didn’t dare to lower his legs, out of fear of squashing his new soft, delicate and welcome guest. He kept patting lightly and the “guest” responded to the friendly gesture by letting its nice shape being felt more neatly by the bottom’s skin.

Now, now. Don’t get carried away so soon, you surely can do more than that!

Taking up the challenge, the boy came out of that most intimate pleasure, pressed his legs against his chest and resumed pushing. A short, babyish grunt was enough this time to feel a new load pressing powerfully against the diaper, filling it steadily with warm and gooey stuff, but only up to a point, as the resistance offered by the diaper managed to stop momentarily the awesome flow at the muscle ring, where the stool stood still and prevented the sphincter muscles from closing again. What a feeling! He had never felt so helpless! He felt the need to close the ring muscles, but he couldn’t. And yet it was so nice!

He raised his head and saw the hill which had just formed, the plastic pants plies pointing from all directions toward its summit, as if to say “This is where the baby boy’s poop is!”.

The tension of the open sphincter grew more and more. It was a like a fist fight between him and the diaper! He pushed to the maximum of his strength, and the procession resumed its course with a dull rumble, rolling more stuff into the diaper. As he saw the plastic pants slowly swelling up, dutifully adjusting to the growing hill beneath them, he could sense the flow of firm matter expanding throughout all diaper cavities and creating its own new space. And then… BLURP! A sudden burst accompanied by a dull thud, the multiple plies of the plastic pants flattening out in an instant as the hill suddenly doubled its mass!

Gooood boy! That’s my baby boy filling up his didee like a good, gooood baby boy! exclaimed the diaper as it witnessed the birth of this universe with a sense of admiration.

The boy relaxed, satisfied of his performance, feeling the cumbersome load happily snug between his ass and the diaper. He couldn’t help watching the huge packet with pride.

“I did it! I did it! I was good, wasn’t I?”

Yeah! Good boy! I knew you could do it! You are my baby boy!

“But you are good too! You hold it all inside, I didn’t know a diaper could take all this!”

That’s what I was made for, baby.

“You are a good diaper!” said he, almost cooing, lightly patting it on the crotch, “Good didee!”.

The boy and the diaper remained silent for a while, enjoying each other’s company, savouring that glorious moment, while a sweet and slightly acid smell began to make its presence more and more noticeable, reaching every corner of the room. After a first chuckle, the boy resumed the silence, somehow realising that that powerfully offensive odour, however gross, went together perfectly with his performance. The diaper seemed to feel the same way, as it tried to keep as many molecules as possible of the strong scent from escaping its fabric. As with the pee, the diaper wanted to hold on to those tiny aerial manifestations of the boy’s body and make them its very own. But as the boy was also breathing them, in reality the odour worked as a living link between the diaper and the boy, binding them closer and closer, announcing enduring happiness and bliss for both of them.

“I forgot how great it was! You didn’t tell me!” he broke the silence.

I did not want to spoil the surprise… and probably you would have not believed me. Besides, I was serious when I said that you had to prove to me that you are my baby. If I had told you how wonderful this was, you would have acted out of your desire to feel this pleasure and not out of your determination to be a baby no matter the costs. Can you see now that all the terrifying memories and thoughts you were having about me were a sort of shield hiding the huge pleasure you can get from me? It was my way to challenge you, to see if you really were wanting to wear me again despite the difficulties and the costs. And costs there will be – what are you going to say to your mum tomorrow?

“Oh!” moaned the boy, “I almost forgot about it! What am I going to do?”

No need to be scared now. Say it was an accident, the rest will come with time. It is time now for my baby to go back to sleep. Turn off the lights and I shall lull you into sleep by telling you a nice magic story.

WARNING – What follows is the story told by the diaper to the bed wetting boy of our story. But you can use it as your own hypnotic routine when you go to sleep, by recording your voice reading it (your diaper’s voice is mostly your own voice… but you can of course have someone else read it for you). You do not need to read the titles, which are kept here only for the sake of the story. Just make sure that once recorded you play it every night as you go to bed in your diapers (if they are wet and poopy it works better and sooner…) and lower the volume just a little bit at every night that follows. Thus you will be able to listen to it while you sleep without having troubles in falling asleep, but you will be also sure that the voice is audible to your unconscious mind. The tape will last for a long time and if you keep listening to it you will eventually reach the stage in which you have no longer control over your bladder and bowels and you will have to wear diapers 24/7. Think about that carefully!

The story has been designed especially for hypnosis-sceptics, as it starts with a part talking to your conscious and rational mind and than talks to your unconscious mind only when you are asleep, i.e. when it is most effective as the barrier of your rationalisations will be no longer active. The hypnosis here is taking you only downwards, i.e. there are no waking up formulas, you will be brought to a state of relaxation and sleep and left there! So that the hypnosis entrenches in your mind permanently. Be sure you want to go through this, as words can play very dirty and wet tricks, though the main credit will still go the diaper. It is the diaper which sends the most powerful messages to the brain and the body, convincing them that you are now a baby.

Me Diaper, You Baby

This story is for you to relax and enjoy your deserved sleep. It is a gift for a good baby boy who poops and pees happily in his bulky diaper. This story is the award every boy gets for behaving like a good baby who wets and poops uncontrollably and has to wear diapers and plastic pants for that. And as you hear my voice, you feel more and more at peace, more and more relaxed, and the limbs of your body become heavier and heavier.

You listen to this story because you are a good boy who makes your diaper very happy by peeing and pooping in it. And whenever you behave like a good baby boy and make your diaper happy by peeing and pooping in it, your diaper will tell you this good night story. The more you listen to this story in your sleep, the more you will behave like a good baby boy wetting and messing his diapers in order to listen to this story once more when you go to sleep, because you know that this story will last all night long, it will make you feel so good, both when you are relaxing and when you are asleep, it will shape your dreams and it will permanently affect your mind, your brain and your body so deeply that you will remain the baby boy you are for ever and ever.

This is the story of how I entered your life, your mind, brain and body, and why you love me so much and why we are made for each other. You will not remember the first time I embraced you and you probably will not remember me at all in your baby years, because you do not have memories of that time. You were simply too small to have memories. But I remember you. O, it was such a happiness to lap up your first pee and to clasp your first poop! I wouldn’t have missed that for the world! You were so small, cute and helpless – I was almost afraid to hurt you as I clamped your sweet little butt! I was so happy for the privilege of being the only one staying with you, on you, the whole time. Of course you don’t remember that, whereas I do remember every detail of it!

But later on, as you grew, you saw other babies comfortably wearing their diapers and happily peeing and pooping in them, and your mommy told you how cute you were when you wore diapers and she even showed you pictures of you wearing diapers, so you came to the correct conclusion that once you wore me too. It was so strange, being told things about you that you couldn’t possibly remember and yet you knew they had to be true. You felt as if they were talking about someone else, but you knew this someone else had to be you, your baby-you. You did not know it then, but you were becoming jealous already of this other you!

Your mind could not remember, but somehow your body did. Because, even when you were too small to remember me or think about me, your body told you how good it was to have me on you, gently imbibing all your pee and keeping you dry – well, sort of… - and warm, gently holding in place on your little cute bum the poop your body let out uncontrollably.

Your body knew and told your forming mind that I was there, I was always there for you, I was the only presence constantly with you. And even if your mommy wasn’t there, I was there reminding you with the cosy feeling of my strong, soft bulk between your legs that everything was all right and that you did not have to worry because I was there. And your body knew this and told you how good I was, he told you I was your best friend, always there for you. Thus, without knowing it, you developed a strong attachment to me. Without knowing it, you fell in love with me. And as later in life you began to find yourself in more and more difficult and stressful situations, you started feeling this strange longing for a time you didn’t have a conscious memory of, a time in which your body told you correctly that there was someone always there for you – me, your didee.

“What would it feel like, to be a baby again?” you began to wonder. But as soon as you watched little babies having their diapers changed, you knew the answer was… “It must be so nice, so wonderful to have a diaper on, to wet and poop in it, to have it changed when it is all wet and poopy!”. You were already forced to use that horrible toilet, you were shown contempt for the products of your body and nobody cuddled you and fondled your bottom and pee pee any more, because they were now your “private parts”, you were not even allowed to show them any more! You could not understand what was wrong with your body and your pee and your poop. Why was it ok to see the pee and the poop of a baby and not yours? Why was it ok to fondle their pee pee and bottom and not yours? Why were you told that your feet were dirty and needed to be washed while everybody wanted to kiss the feet of a baby?

And so you felt that growing was not at all a convenient trade, you rightly felt that, while growing, you were losing more than you were gaining. That was so wrong and unfair! You wanted to go back, you would have given anything to revert to the state of a happy baby, a state you did not know, but knew it had to be wonderful. Indeed not knowing what it was like made it even more irresistible! And you knew by then, that being a baby means first of all wearing diapers and peeing and pooping in them. Because one can imagine a baby without his pacifier, one can imagine a baby without his baby bottle, one can imagine all sorts of things, but one cannot imagine a baby without his diaper. It is impossible. Because the diaper is part of the baby’s body, its plastics or plastic pants being his skin and his fluffy bulge being his muscles. And the baby is the moving limbs, body and head of the diaper, the diaper’s mean to sense and interact with the world. The baby and the diaper are one, the two form together the eternal image of perfect happiness.

Think of when you bumped occasionally into an older diaper wearing child – weren’t all grown ups around saying things like “He is wearing diapers just like a baby!”? Diapers were and are and will be inextricably associated with babies. So you knew that by just wearing a diaper the most important step back to babyhood was made! You knew that I was the very key to your lost happiness.

And yet they used every mean to keep you away from me. If you ever showed as much as a tiny bit of desire of being a baby again, let alone wanting to wear me, you were immediately reprimanded “You are not a baby any more! Stop acting like one! Who would want to be a baby again?!” Couldn’t you detect the most derogatory tone of voice as they pronounced the word ‘baby’ on those occasions? And you thought “What? Why is being a baby suddenly so wrong? You all get cooing like crazy when you see one! What is wrong with peeing and pooping? You all long to wipe a baby’s butt and change his diaper!” And didn’t they do everything to picture diapers as the most horrible thing a boy could bump into? Not just the most horrible, worse still, the most ridiculous! They encouraged all you children, all you boys, to tease one another if any of you showed any hint of a babyish behaviour. They turned you in a bunch of cops watching each other, spying each other, eager to denounce the first sign of weakness with a hysteric shrill voice shouting “Baby! Baby! He is just a baby!”. All grown ups around you knew that it was enough to say “You don’t want to behave like a baby anymore! What would your friends say?” to knock down any attempt of yours to go back to your lovely babyhood. O, what a masterpiece of social engineering! It worked so well, you almost believed them.

And yet, you couldn’t keep your eyes away from me whenever you had an opportunity to take a look at me on the butt of some of your fortunate younger likes. And the more they told you my shape was stupid, ugly and ridiculous, the more you found me attractive, enticing and beautiful. O, you certainly had learned by then to hide your feelings toward me, you had learned to watch me without others noticing the subject of your forbidden love. And the more it was forbidden, the more it was irresistible! What a new strange feeling… falling in love with the very thing nobody wanted you to fall in love with. It was so strange, so bizarre! You felt for the first time that you were not listening to your parents, that you were doing something on your own. You discovered your own sense of intimacy and independence of thoughts and feelings. It was so nice to have a secret, something which made you different from all the others, something which made you an autonomous human being! You felt so funny as you despised me joining the choir of conformity from time to time, though knowing that you felt the exact opposite of what you were saying publicly! Or, maybe, fearing and loving went together? Had to go together? For the latter to be more precious?

So you started this little game with yourself, i.e. fearing me or feeling contempt for me publicly, even to your conscious mind, to make it more believable to others, while feeling the most intense longing for me in the depths of your heart. Thus, while craving secretly for my bulky presence between your legs, you would say to yourself and others “No! No! Noo! I don’t want diapers! I am no baby!”. But I knew better, as I was the only one around hearing your most inner voice, the voice of your heart, begging me: “O please, please, take me, cuddle me again as you used to do! I want to be your nice cute little baby again! O please, please, be my diaper and I will be your baby!”

Your heart was so desperately yearning for me, and yet your mind was not willing to admit it. So I told your heart “I love you too, baby! I remember your sweet pee and your cosy little butt, but you are the one who has to make the first step! There is no other way for the two of us to be together again! Talk to your mind and explain you want to wear me again. If it doesn’t work, talk directly to your body. He has good memories of me, he will certainly share your wish and help you making it come true!”

You know, with some kids talking to the mind is enough. The mind will say “Ok, you will get your diapers, but only if you don’t tell anybody!” and the happy kid will try to do everything to get hold of a diaper or even make one himself, if he can’t find one! And as he grows, he will eventually manage to buy his own diapers and baby things and enjoy them on his own. But with other kids, like you, the mind won’t listen, won’t give in! And it is only the body who can help. And the body will say “Ok, you will get your diapers, but sooner or later everybody will find out!”. “O, this is so exciting!” says the heart. The mind won’t be happy of course, but the heart will be prepared to pay for the price of the mind’s unhappiness, confident that sooner or later the mind will change… its mind!

Thus, in one way or the other, every diaper-adoring-boy - and there are soooo many! - will get what he wants.

So you went through all this because you knew that by just wearing me again the gates to baby heaven would open again to you. You knew it was enough just to wear me again and all the rest would have followed. By magic? No! Just naturally! Somehow you knew already that the most incredible thing about wearing diapers and becoming a baby again is that you do not have to learn anything! Boy, you’ve been there and you’ve done that! All it took then and it takes now is to feel my bulky presence between your thighs and let your body and brain do the rest for you. And as your body realises you are wearing a diaper again, your brain will adjust, by reverting back to its baby state and impart the appropriate orders and make you feel the right emotions and make you act as a baby does. You try to walk and you waddle, just like a baby. And you know that if for whatever reason anybody sees you in that diaper, he or she will treat you like a baby! You feel the urge to pee and you know you can’t pee but in your diaper, just like a baby! And when the body realises your wearing a wet diaper, o boy!, your brain will be completely reassured that you are a baby again and will act accordingly.

You know all this already and as you feel my bulky presence between your legs, you are feeling as helpless as any other baby in the world, you know you cannot hold your pee and poop anymore and you have to wear diapers for that. And as you feel that I am wet and messy, you know it was you wetting and messing me uncontrollably like all babies do. Even if you think that you did it on purpose, deep down in your mind and body, you are aware that you had no choice, you had to wet and poop like a baby, because once you wear a diaper you have no other choice than letting go in it. You know that once I am on you, I won’t let go and you cannot but pee and poop in me.

Wearing diapers is never a matter of choice. As I said before, even those who start wearing a diaper without wetting their bed first have felt a most imperious need to have a diaper on them, a need they could not master. As a matter of fact no one has a choice when it comes to diapers – you have to wear them!

Enough talking to your conscious mind! I want to address now your unconscious mind and in order to do that I will have you relax more and more, until you are almost asleep. I want you now to picture a little baby lying in his crib, happily sucking his thumb and embracing his lovely teddy bear. Imagine you are that very baby, lying on your back in the crib, sucking your thumb or a pacifier you like, cuddling your favourite teddy bear or stuffed animal. And as you lie on your back, sucking your thumb or pacifier, cuddling your teddy, you concentrate on your breathing. You take your air in. You let your air out. You take your air in. And you let your air out. You take your air in. You let your air out.

And as you breath you can smell the lump of poop in your diaper or the baby cream covering your skin. The smell is so strong that it reaches everywhere in the room. Think of this smell as parts of you which fly about in the room and you are in every and each little tiny part that make up the strong, powerful smell...

One tiny little part of you leaves your didee and flies about the plastic pants, gliding along the plies which lead from the leg to the centre of the diapered bottom. One tiny little part of you leaves your didee, swims underneath the quilt, between your thighs, your knees, your legs, until it finds a way out between your feet, and then flies swiftly toward the table and lands gracefully on it. Another tiny little part leaves your didee and swims underneath your body, along your back, following your spine until it reaches your shoulder, then bends to go along your arm, your elbow, your forearm and leaves your hand to get lifted and fly as far as the top of the cupboard, where it lands to rest and relax completely.

One more tiny little part leaves your didee and swims under your body, following your spine, reaching your shoulder and then following your other arm, crawling along your elbow and your forearm, until it reaches the hand and the base of the thumb in your mouth, where it gets captured for a moment by the air going into your nose, diving down your throat, your airways and your lungs, and then gets sucked up by the air going out, and leaves your nose to fly toward the window, lifted by a stream of air which takes the tiny little part through the narrow opening of the window, flying in the garden, floating around a tree, looking at every branch and the little birdies cuddling each other in their sleep. And then the tiny little part of you is taken up higher and higher by the wind and sees the house, the garden, the street and the other houses, the whole town becoming smaller and smaller, that there is no longer way to tell one thing from the other. The tiny little part of you flies through a nice, soft, shape-shifting cloud, and becomes a part of it, bumping into millions of little baby particles like you, delicately whirling around and about, travelling for miles and miles and miles, and eventually melting with other particles into a tiny drop of water, which begins to fall very, very lightly like a snowdrop. The drop of water leaves the cloud downwards and the cloud becomes smaller and smaller, whereas the waves of the see underneath it become more and more visible, bigger and bigger, and the drop lands on top of one of them. The part of you in the drop begins to float on the see at the rhythm of your breathing, up… and down. Up… and down. Up… and down. And the movement gets slower and slower, more and more peaceful, more and more relaxed. And wave after wave, wave after wave, wave after wave, you find yourself lying on a sunny beach, completely relaxed, your body so heavy…

And while you are completely relaxed, you can feel my thick pad below your bottom, my firm grip bulging between your thighs, my soft soaker covering your private parts and belly. You feel my warm, steady bulge embracing you all around between your waist and your thighs: You can feel that I am holding you and that I won’t let go and you feel so reassured, so safe! You can feel the smooth plastic pant holding all inside and keeping your bed dry and clean, as dry and clean as a good baby boy has to be. And as you feel all this, you feel so secure and loved, so nice and happy, just like a good baby boy in his diapers. And you know that this is just right and normal. It is just right and normal because you know you are a little helpless baby, who can’t hold his pee nor his poop and it is right and normal that you need to wear diapers and baby pants. You are a helpless baby lying in your diaper and plastic pants and they feel so nice, so comfortable, that you know you must be a baby, nothing but a baby, and your very nature is being a baby wearing diapers and plastic pants. Only babies wear diapers because they can’t hold either pee or poop and you know your very nature is to pee and poop uncontrollably and this is why you have to wear diapers permanently like every other baby. All little babies wear diapers and it is perfectly normal for them to wet their diapers and poop in them, as it is for you – it is perfectly all right to wet and mess your diaper because you are a little baby who can’t control his bladder and bowels. Wearing diapers is perfectly normal for babies and peeing and pooping them even more so, you are a normal baby and it is normal that you wear diapers all the time because this is just what babies wear all the time.

You drink every day lots of water and fruit juice and milk, especially before you go to sleep, and as you feel the lightest itch in your bladder you know that the pee is coming and that there is nothing you can do to hold it inside and this is why you have to wear a diaper and plastic pants. And as you feel your diaper getting wetter and warmer you are so happy because you are wearing a diaper and like a very good baby boy you are wetting nothing else but your diaper and plastic pants. In the same way you eat lots of fruits and vegetables and when you feel your poop is pushing you know there is nothing you can do to keep it in and this is why you have to wear diapers and baby pants. And as you feel your diaper filling up with smelly and mushy poop you are so happy because you are wearing diapers and plastic pants and like a very good and nice baby boy you are messing nothing else but your diapers.

You are a baby and you can’t help wetting and pooping without control, but you are a good baby and you know that it is normal for you to have to wear diapers to keep your bed and clothes nice and clean. And the more you pee and poop your diapers, the more you will be reminded of what you still are: A baby who will need to wear diapers and plastic pants to keep your clothes and bed dry and clean.

All baby boys love their diapers and all baby boys love to feel their diapers getting wet and warm with pee and all baby boys love to feel their diapers full of warm and mushy poop on their little bottoms. Like you – you are a little baby who loves his diaper and is happy to feel it wet and warm with pee and full of warm and mushy poop on your little bottom.

Everything you do reminds you at every moment that you are a baby, because you can’t do nothing like the big boys – you can’t walk or run like a big boy, because you can only crawl and waddle around in your very thick diaper; you can’t wear big boys’ underwear and clothes, because your thick diaper is to big for them; you can’t pee or poop at command, because you wet and mess uncontrollably and this is why you have to wear diapers and plastic pants like every normal baby.

All baby boys love their diapers and all baby boys love to feel their diapers getting wet and warm with pee and all baby boys love to feel their diapers full of warm and mushy poop on their little bottoms. Like you – you are a little baby who loves his diaper and is happy to feel it wet and warm with pee and full of warm and mushy poop on your little bottom.

Even when you are asleep and you can’t hear what I’m saying with your conscious mind, in the background of your mind the true things I am saying about your very self keep on affecting permanently your behaviour. You know what I am saying is true about you and you are adjusting more and more your external behaviour to this inner truth: You are baby and you love your diapers, you are a little baby who loves to have to wear his diapers because he needs them. You are so happy to be a helpless baby who wets and poops his diapers because he can’t do otherwise. And as I am not reverting you back to a conscious state these words will keep running permanently in your mind and repeat themselves over and over, for ever, keeping you a permanent baby who needs to wear diapers and plastic pants. And as you wake up in the morning in a wet diaper, like every good diaper baby boy, you feel rewarded for having wet uncontrollably your nice thick diaper by such a feeling of well being, pleasure and happiness, that you pat your diaper and say to yourself “Good boy! Good boy! I am such a good baby boy! It is so right, good and normal to wake up in wet diapers and I am so glad, satisfied and happy for being a good baby diaper boy. I am so proud that I behaved so good, like a little baby helplessly wetting my diaper.”

You are asleep now and I am about to enter the deepest recesses of your mind to regress you to a baby permanently, prolonging your babyhood for ever, commanding your brain to do as I say. You will have your diaper changed while you are asleep. And as the diaper change progresses your brain will follow my tactile instructions and surrender the control of your bladder, bowels and the whole body to me.

Step one. Your plastic pants come off, exposing your wet and messy diaper. The cells of your skin tell your brain that you wear a diaper and that it is ok to pee and poop at any time.

Step two. Your diaper gets unfastened and reveals your penis and balls. The cells of your skin feel cold and tell your brain that you are very weak and vulnerable without a diaper.

Step three. Your diaper is removed and as your legs get up, your bottom exposes the poop. Your muscle cells tell your brain you are very vulnerable and helpless and that you cannot possibly cope without the protection of your diaper.

Step four. The wipes clean your bottom. With every stroke your sphincter muscle cells tell your brain that they are weak and tired and need to relax permanently.

Step five. As your legs come down, the wipes clean your penis and balls. With every stroke your bladder muscle cells tell your brain that they are weak and tired and need to relax permanently.

Step six. A new diaper is laid under your bottom. The sphincter muscles and the bladder muscles feel more and more relaxed, knowing that a new diaper is there to help them relaxing permanently.

Step seven. You lift your legs and baby cream and baby powder are applied on your bottom. The sphincter muscles feel the baby cream and baby powder and tell the brain that from now on they will do only what the diaper commands.

Step eight. As your legs get down, baby cream and baby powder are applied to your penis, balls and belly. Your bladder muscles tell your brain that from now on they will do only what the diaper commands.

Step nine. The diaper rises between your thighs, covers your private parts and belly, and fastens. Your muscle cells feel the diaper bulge sticking tightly against the body and tell your brain that there is no point in trying to oppose the diaper’s will, because the diaper is stronger than your brain.

Step ten. The plastic pants seal the diaper. The brain surrenders control of the bladder and the bowels to the diaper and reverts to the neural patterns it had when the body was a baby.

I am your diaper and you are my baby and you find yourself now in the diaper cycle. As you feel the strong grip and the softness of a new diaper cuddling you, you feel so happy and loved, because you know the strength of the tight diaper and the firm hold of the plastic pants protect you and make you a safe baby. As you feel the cosiness of your warm and wet diaper you feel so happy and taken care of, because you know your stubborn diaper and your trustworthy plastic pants will always be there for you. As you feel the heavy weight of your drenched diaper and the nice lump of poop in it happily bouncing between your little bum and your diaper as you toddle or jump, you feel so happy and free, because you know your diaper and your plastic pants allow you to be the playful baby boy you are. As you feel your plastic pants being unsnapped and your soaked and messy diaper taken off while you lie helpless and vulnerable with your legs up, exposing your dirty bum for everybody to see what a good baby boy you still are, and then feel the fresh wet wipes cleaning thoroughly your bum and private parts and then plenty of baby cream being spread carefully along your bottom’s crack, on your little balls and pee, and lots of baby powder snowing on it all, you feel happy and excited, anticipating the return of the soft cumbersome diaper raising like a white fluffy wave between your legs and embracing you again as tight as ever, while the happy sound of the plastic pants buttons snapping you in confirms once more that you are a diaper wearing baby who can’t hold his pee nor poop. And another round of the diaper cycle starts again, and you know this will go on for ever and ever. You know you are trapped in this cycle and yet you would not give anything to get out of it. Because this is what you deserve, this is what you need, this is what all babies deserve and need – wearing diapers and plastic pants. And this is so right, so normal, so natural that a good baby boy abides by the diaper cycle with pleasure and obedience to his diaper.

All these words keep running permanently in the back of your mind and repeat themselves over and over, for ever, day and night, affecting your behaviour, popping up now and then during the day, reminding you constantly that you are a permanent baby who needs to wear diapers and plastic pants. And as you wear a messy and wet diaper, like every good diaper baby boy, you feel rewarded for having pooped and wet uncontrollably your nice thick diaper by such a feeling of well being, pleasure and happiness, that you pat your diaper and say to yourself “Good boy! Good baby boy! I am such a good baby boy! It is so right, good and normal to be in wet and messy diapers and I am so glad, satisfied and happy for being a good baby diaper boy. I am so proud that I behaved so good, like a little baby helplessly wetting and messing my diaper.”

And every time you feel your didee is poopy and wet, like every good diaper baby boy, you feel rewarded for having pooped and wet uncontrollably your nice thick diaper by such a feeling of well being, pleasure and happiness, that you pat your diaper and say to yourself “Good boy! Good baby boy! I am such a good baby boy! It is so right, good and normal to be in wet and messy diapers and I am so glad, satisfied and happy for being a good baby diaper boy. I am so proud that I behaved so good, like a little baby helplessly wetting and messing my diaper.”

I am your diaper and you have to wear me because you are a helpless little baby who pees and poops uncontrollably. You know you are a helpless little baby boy who pees and poops uncontrollably and that, whether you like it or not, you have to wear your diaper like every good baby boy wearing his diapers and peeing and pooping in them.

I am your diaper and you will do as I want. You know you cannot resist me because I am your diaper and I have all the power on you, the power to make you pee and poop at my command. The more you pee and poop in me the more you know you cannot do without me, you cannot stay without your diaper because you are a little helpless baby who pees and poops uncontrollably and has to wear diapers like every good baby boy who doesn’t want to upset his diaper by trying to hold the pee and poop which come out naturally of your body. Every good baby boy pees and poops his diaper because this is right and normal.

“I am a good baby boy and I want to make my diaper happy and I pee and poop uncontrollably because my diaper wants me to, because this is what a good baby boy like me does to make his diaper happy. I am a good baby boy and by listening to my diaper and by doing what it wants from me I make him very happy.”

I am your diaper and I hold you and will not let go of you because you are baby and you have to pee and poop in your diaper like a good baby boy listening and obeying his diaper’s commands.

[repeat this last section as many times as you wish]