Posted on Wed, 26 February 2025
The following is the true story of how I discovered my diaper fetish. I will take some creative license when filling in the gaps in my memory. Still, the overall story is as accurate as I can remember.
Unlike many ABDLs, I did not grow up with a diaper fetish, and I was not a bedwetter. I was raised by a loving and attentive mother, although my father was out of the picture when I was eight.
After my parents divorced, my mother and I moved into a mobile home park in rural California. Mom worked for a country veterinarian that lived on a farm down the street.
Dr. Linda had a son my age named Ronnie, but we never got along. He was a troublemaker who was frequently in trouble at school and was brought home by the local police multiple times throughout his teenage years. Dr. Linda was also divorced, and since Ronnie helped very little around the farm, she often paid me to do many of the chores.
When I was fifteen, we moved to the city when Mom decided to marry her new boyfriend, Tom. Tom was a good guy, and I was happy she found someone. However, I hated living in the city. This was in the early 1980s, so the city was filled with smog, and everywhere I went, it smelled terrible.
I graduated from high school in 1986 at the age of eighteen. Mom and Dr. Linda were still friends and talked often. A few weeks after graduation, Mom told me that Ronnie had signed up for the Army, and Dr. Linda had offered to let me stay with her. I could get out of the city, and Dr. Linda would get much-needed help on the farm. Dr. Linda even offered to pay for my community college tuition. It seemed the perfect solution to everyone's problems, so I agreed.
A few weeks later, I was surprised by a used truck Mom and Dr. Linda had bought. A vehicle would be necessary for living in the country, and having a truck would make it easier for me to help around the farm.
Shortly before my move, we got word from Dr. Linda that Ronnie had washed out of boot camp and was back home. It did not affect my move, but she wanted me to know he would be there.
That's when I learned that he had only joined the Army to avoid going to jail for being a repeat offender. To avoid going to jail after washing out of boot camp, he enrolled in Job Corps and would be leaving in a few weeks.
Dr. Linda ranted about how Ronnie's commanding officer had called her. He told her Ronnie had thrown tantrums to get out of training exercises and had started wetting the bed to get a medical discharge.
A few days after that, I had my stuff packed up and left for the four-hour drive back to my hometown.
When I arrived at Dr. Linda's farm, she met me on the porch. She told me things were going to be a bit weird around the house for a while because she had gotten tired of Ronnie's bullshit and decided to lay down the law.
I was confused about why that would be weird, but then we went into the house, and I saw Ronnie standing in the corner with his face pressed against the wall. Below his t-shirt, he wore a thick cloth diaper under a pair of translucent plastic pants. The tops of his thighs were bright pink, which made it clear he had recently been spanked as well. She told me he had thrown a fit about me seeing him in his diapers, so she had blistered his butt, and he would be staying in the corner until dinner.
Flabbergasted by what I had seen, I said nothing and followed her to my new room. The room was larger than expected and was furnished with a full-size bed, dresser, desk, and a bookcase. She helped me carry in my boxes, and I couldn't help but stare at Ronnie every time I walked past.
Over the next few weeks, I got used to living there. The chores were easy enough, and I loved the freedom my new truck offered. It was odd to have Ronnie helping me with chores while wearing a diaper, which made him waddle as he walked. Dr. Linda wouldn't allow him to wear pants outside because she wanted him to be acutely aware of his punishment.
For anyone wondering, she didn't treat him like a baby or anything. He was kept in diapers as a reminder of his infantile and immature behavior. He was prohibited from using the toilet and often wandered around in a wet or messy diaper. Every few days, he would be put to work washing his dirty diapers in the utility sink and then hanging them outside to dry. I learned that Ronnie had a bedwetting problem up until he was fifteen, which is why she had a stash of diapers and plastic pants.
He was spanked about once a week. I wasn't present for any spankings but heard them through the walls. He was always sent to the corner with tears streaming down his face after each spanking, where he would stand for a couple hours.
While all this was happening, I was enamored with the situation. It started with disbelief, but it wasn't long before I wondered what it would be like to be in his shoes. How would I react if she spanked me and forced me to wear diapers? Could I handle the embarrassment?
It wasn't long before my wondering turned to longing, and I began to fantasize about being kept in diapers. I stood out of view and watched as he laundered his dirty diapers and hung them out to dry. My erection would often strain against my pants as I imagined myself in the same position. I even absconded with a pair of plastic pants and would wear them over my underwear to masturbate.
After six weeks of witnessing Ronnie's punishment, he got the call that Job Corps was ready for him, and he would be leaving in a few days. He was ecstatic to be escaping his mother's humiliating discipline. I was disappointed that I wouldn't get to witness it any longer.
The day she took him to the Greyhound station was the first time I had seen him in regular clothes. She lectured him about making Job Corps work or things would be far worse when he returned.
When Dr. Linda returned from seeing Ronnie off, she came to the barn, where I refilled the feed containers. She carried a stack of diapers. I remember her exact words to this day.
"Now that he's gone, are you ready for your own diapers?"
I had no words and wondered what I had done to deserve that. I wanted it, but I hadn't done anything wrong, and my confusion was apparent.
She told me she had seen how I would watch him and frequently had to adjust myself when my dick would get hard. How I would touch the plastic pants hanging on the line when I thought nobody was looking. And she knew about the plastic pants I had hidden under my mattress.
Beyond embarrassed, I couldn't get myself to say anything. I stood there, staring at her feet, not saying a word. This was definitely something I wanted, but I tried to avoid admitting to enjoying it. In my fantasies, it was something I wasn't given a choice about.
Time seemed to stand still as we both stood there silently. I could see the smile on her face in my peripheral vision, but I couldn't get myself to look her in the eyes. About thirty seconds passed before she told me that I would need to be spanked for stealing the plastic pants.
I just stood there as she moved forward and pulled the belt from my waist. As she unbuttoned and pulled down my jeans, she told me Ronnie had been punished severely because she thought he had thrown the plastic pants away. I would be receiving an equal punishment for the theft.
Once my jeans were around my ankles, she told me to bend down and grab my ankles. My boxers were yanked down next, leaving me naked from the waist down in the middle of the barn. She warned me to keep my hands in place, or she would spank me again the next day for good measure.
The belt swung through the air and landed right across the middle of my ass. I nearly jumped out of my skin from the pain but managed to stay in place. She rained down blows from the top of my ass to the middle of my thighs until I was bawling and barely able to stand. As much as it hurt, it made me feel a certain way - a feeling I enjoyed.
After she finished, she pulled me over to a workbench and positioned me on top so my legs were dangling over the edge. Rather than removing my shoes, she slowly pulled my jeans over them, leaving me wearing only my shirt and shoes.
She stacked several of the diapers together and rolled me back and forth to get them under my butt. As she pulled them up between my legs, the cloth touched my penis, and it began to swell. She just grinned as she positioned the stack and began fastening them with several diaper pins. When she pulled the plastic pants up my legs, I realized how bulky the diaper was. I had difficulty getting my knees close enough to allow the plastic pants to pass.
Diapered for the first time and nursing a sore butt, I stood up and quickly realized why Ronnie was always waddling around like a penguin. The thickness of the diaper made it impossible to get my thighs closer than a few inches to each other.
Dr. Linda told me the same rules that applied to Ronnie applied to me: I could not have toilet privileges or cover my diapers without permission. Then she told me to finish my chores and that she would let me know when dinner was ready.
I went back to my chores, but my erection was straining against the diaper. I had a lot of mixed feelings because this was an exciting turn of events but also a scary proposition. The plan was to attend community college in the fall, which was only a month away. Were college plans canceled? Would I be expected to wear diapers to school?
Despite all those conflicting thoughts, my cock rubbing against the thick padding as I moved around was causing problems. I got very close to cumming several times and had to pause and wait for the feeling to pass.
At one point, when I couldn't pause while moving a bale of hay, I lost control and ejaculated right into the diaper. As amazing as it felt, I had a new potential humiliation to deal with. Dr. Linda would be changing my diaper at some point and would clearly see the cum I had deposited. My only hope was to release my bladder and hope the pee would hide the fact.
It turned out to not really be a valid concern. She immediately noticed the pee stain when I was called in for dinner. With a broad smile, she rubbed the front of my diaper to see how wet it was. My cock responded as expected by getting hard instantly. Her response was to keep rubbing until I had another orgasm.
At this point, I realized she was attracted to me and had used my fascination with her son's diaper discipline to cross a threshold and make our relationship more intimate. Despite the twenty-year age difference, I was all for it. She wasn't winning any beauty pageants. Still, she took care of herself and would be considered attractive for a woman in her 40s.
Despite this new revelation, she took her role as disciplinarian quite seriously. She enforced the rules the same way she did for Ronnie. I wore diapers exclusively and waddled around the property in diapers that were clearly only that thick for the purpose of humiliation. I wet and messed in the diapers, and she would change me at her own convenience.
The most apparent difference was that it was quick and to the point when she changed Ronnie's diapers. Clean him up and get him straight into a clean diaper. During my diaper changes, she was more thorough as she cleaned. She liked to tease me with a fingertip in my butthole while wiping it and would shave away all of my pubic hair a couple times a week.
Other than rubbing my wet diapers until I came, things didn't change until a couple weeks later. At the beginning of one diaper change, she started stroking my cock through the soaked diaper, then got up on the bed and straddled me. She began grinding against my diaper until she orgasmed - several minutes after I came myself. After crossing that barrier, she would do it once or twice a week.
One of my duties on the farm was to drive into town and pick up feed once a week. On those days, my diapers weren't as thick. Rather than four diapers stacked, she would only use two. To cover them, I wore thick canvas overalls that did a surprisingly good job hiding the diapers. I was still self-conscious about the crinkling sound, but nobody seemed to notice.
The same applied to school. As promised, I was enrolled in community college in the fall. During the day, it became normal to wear a diaper that was still thick but not enough to make me waddle and thick denim jeans or canvas overalls. Being a rural town, it was a fairly common way to dress, and nobody ever noticed.
She seemed to have a proclivity for spanking, though, as that became a punishment she dished out for minor reasons. She always had a broad smile on her face when she would spank me, and it was always followed by her grinding on my diapered crotch. The spankings hurt, but it always put me into a deep headspace I loved.
A few months after this all started, we had to drive into the city to pick up medications she used in her veterinary practice. While we were there, we stopped at an adult novelty store downtown. It was a seedy place and smelled terrible, but it was filled with all sorts of books, magazines, sex toys, and fetish clothing.
We were there because she wanted to purchase a butt plug, but she acted like a child in a candy store when she saw all the kinky options. In addition to three different butt plugs, she picked out a strap-on harness and two dildoes, three different paddles, and a set of leather restraints.
When one of the women who worked there came over to offer help, I was mortified when Dr. Linda accepted and asked which of the items was the best quality. During that conversation, they began discussing the different types of strap-on harnesses, and the lady asked which of us would be wearing the harness. Dr. Linda said she would be using it on me, but the idea of me using it on her seemed interesting. Then she asked if a harness could be worn over diapers. The lady looked me in the eye and suggested the adjustable leather harness was the best option, but we were welcome to try it on and see.
Right there, in the middle of this porn shop, she unsnapped my overalls and dropped them to my ankles - exposing my thick diapers to everyone in the room. The two of them positioned the harness over the diaper. They checked to ensure enough room to adjust it over thicker diapers.
In the middle of all this, the lady told us that they didn't carry any diaper fetish stuff but that she believed there were some pocketbooks about infantilism in the used book section. Until now, neither of us had any idea that diaper fetishes existed. We were both confident that we were the only people in the world with those interests.
After pulling my overalls back up, we looked through the books where she pointed and found a single pocketbook with a drawing of a man in a diaper on the front. I don't remember its name, but it was just a simple black-and-white paperback filled with stories of diaper discipline. One of the pages even had an advertisement for DPF(Diaper Pail Friends), which boasted hundreds of members.
In addition to adding to our kinky collection of toys, Dr. Linda signed us up for the DPF newsletter.
While we waited for the first newsletter to arrive, she started experimenting with the new toys she purchased.
The strap-on became her new favorite thing, which she would wrap around my diaper with a sizable fleshy dildo and then ride on until she had an orgasm. Once or twice a month, she would strap me to the bed, bend over the footboard, and fuck me with the strap-on as well.
The butt plugs became the new tool she used during spankings. She liked to insist it would ensure I didn't have an accident while being spanked. Her new paddles got worn out fast, which prompted her to buy higher-quality versions.
When the DPF newsletter finally showed up, we were mostly underwhelmed. We weren't sure what we were expecting but realized it seemed designed to appeal to single men needing a fantasy outlet. However, some of the products struck a chord for sure. Dr. Linda ordered several pairs of printed plastic pants. Neither of us was into ageplay, but the idea of wearing babyish plastic pants just added a new level of humiliation.
The only time I was ever out of diapers was when I went home to visit my mom for Christmas break. When Mom and her new husband visited us, Dr. Linda kept me in diapers the entire time but opted for disposable diapers from the drugstore, and I was allowed to wear pants over them. Mom was only there for two days, so our secret was safe.
Ronnie did well in Job Corps. He had no interest in coming home, though, and spent all his breaks hanging out with friends in the city. When he graduated with a certificate in welding, he moved two states away for a job. He would call his mother once a month but has not expressed interest in visiting.
We were together for nine years. Dr. Linda died of liver cancer in 1995. I mourned her for a while but eventually got involved in the online ABDL community. I got married in 2004 to a woman I met online. She is ten years older than me and a lifestyle ABDL herself. We switch, but she is definitely the more dominant of the two. In our day-to-day lives, she is in charge. When she wants to switch, it's only for a few hours, and then she wants to return to being the boss. It's great, and I wouldn't have it any other way.