doublepadded
Est. Contributor
- Messages
- 75
- Role
- Diaper Lover
- Little
For starters, my name is Lucas. I’ve been a diaper lover for around 15 years or so. Most of my memorable childhood memories stemmed from me wearing diapers and I’m eager to share some of my most cherishing memories. Including the time when I transitioned from wearing underwear to diapers.
Back in Grade 4, around the springtime, most of the afternoons would be spent with my dad as he worked earlier in the morning. My mom managed the evening shifts at Costco. I would say we were living well-off. Well… my dad got a promotion at his job but was expected to manage a different department in another city. My parents decided that it would be best to hire a caretaker to take care of me in the hours of their absence.
The caretaker they hired was a young lady. I think she just graduated from college and was looking to earn some decent cash before securing a proper job. I forgot what she had studied, but she was in health science.
The first few months of her caretaking after me, it went by relatively quickly as nothing interesting happened. Our afternoons and evenings would be spent over at her house. It consisted of finishing homework, then making dinner, then spending the evening playing games, and watching movies or shows, all before getting ready for bed at around 8 or 9 pm. On Fridays, she would let me stay late and if my parents had to work weekends, she would let me stay. Until my parents were able to come pick me up.
Most of my afternoons, evenings, and some weekends were spent away from my house. It did really begin to feel like I had a second home rather than being adopted by my caretaker. One day, I remembered coming home from school feeling exhausted, I passed out on the bed that my caretaker had given me. I don’t remember much, but I woke up being soaked, and my caretaker wasn’t too impressed. She was sympathetic to say it was perfectly fine, but I could tell she was slightly annoyed by it.
I don’t remember much, but by the following week, I was told to put on some diapers. At first, I thought that it was punishment for me as I had soiled the bed, but she insisted that these new underwear were special. I feel like she was avoiding another heavy accident, so she’d put me in diapers to help minimize it. I felt annoyed at first because I was wondering, “Why would big kids like me be in diapers? Can’t I prove myself that those bed wettings were purely accidental?”
I also felt annoyed because the diapers my caretaker had bought weren't pull-ups. No, they were full tab-style diapers. They were Tena Slip diapers. She also wanted me to wear nothing on the bottom, so she could see if the wetness indicator showed that my diapers were wet and that there was no hiding of those wetting accidents.
After 2 months, I was still wearing them. It sort of dawned on me that I was going to accept the fact that I was going to be in diapers regardless if I stayed dry throughout the day and night. And I slowly convinced myself that it should be okay to use the diapers as intended as my caretaker was disposing of dry diapers daily and I thought it was a waste. But every time I wanted to wet my diaper, I felt anxious that my sitter would become annoyed again.
It wasn’t until a few days later that my caretaker and I were playing games for the evening to pass the time. It was a Friday evening and we had pizza for dinner and she let me have a whole bottle of Pepsi for myself. My caretaker was sitting on the ground next to me while I was kneeling. We were playing this Lego game where it had a challenging puzzle for us to solve and my caretaker wanted me to lead the game. Like the kid that I was, I frequently stood up and helped guide my caretaker around the level, by pointing where things should be placed around the level.
Well… a few hours went by and I suddenly had the urge to pee. However, I was so invested in the game that we were playing together that I forgot about the consequences of soiling my diaper. I sort of raised myself up and began to let it flow out and wet my diaper. The feeling of wetting my diaper was quite satisfying, the warmness of my pee being absorbed felt quite nice. I felt like I was being discreet about it except that the wetness indicator changed color, the diaper began to sag, a small but audible hissing noise could be heard, and my caretaker paused to see what I was up to. She knew that I was filling up my diaper by the gesture I was giving off - a sign of relief, and a wet diaper around my waist.
I kneeled down and turned to my caretaker, seeing if she noticed or not. She did. I felt kind of guilty and embarrassed about doing it in front of her, but at that moment, I had to pee. I was expecting scrutiny and disappointment from her, however, she was more sympathetic about my wetting accident in my diaper than on the bed. She told me that “it was fine that I used my diaper,” and that “that’s what I bought them for, and you can use them” and that “I won’t blame you for using your diaper as intended. ”She assured me that it was completely okay to use my diaper and that she preferred me to soil my diaper than to accidentally soil onto one of her furniture and potentially ruin it.
It was scary to wet my diaper in front of her, let alone this being the second time I would cause a wetting accident in her house. But after hearing what my caretaker told me, I felt like wetting my diaper was rewarding. I got praised for wetting my diaper instead of being shamed on. She cheered me on by offering to change me when I felt like it, as supposed to immediately after I wet my diaper, to give me some freedom of choice, considering that I am old enough to ask about changes and not told to be changed.
So I happily sat down in my now wet and warm diaper. The feeling of the squish between my legs was nice. It sort of embraced that sensation of satisfaction and to be honest, I was quite proud of myself for wetting my diaper. The wetness indicator was also very pleasing to see. I felt like a baby who was old enough that he could make his own choices, but young enough to wet my diaper and feel innocent doing it. Like, “Oops, I soiled myself, and the diaper shows I had an accident.” I can’t lie or deny about wearing a wet diaper due to that wetness indicator line changing colors.
After we finished the level it was nearing bedtime. I had completely forgotten about the diaper I was wearing. It felt really nice around me and I forgot I was still wearing the wet diaper, a few hours after I soiled it. My caretaker seemed to not mind changing me either. After all, she did buy the diapers for wetting accidents just like that, and for nocturnal wettings. She said that “wetting is completely fine, just avoid messing in it,” and that “I can tell her that I’ve soiled the diaper so that she knows about it too because I had completely forgotten about my soiled diaper.”
After that first wetting and the experience of being complimented and cheered for, a few weeks went by and I had a few wetting accidents here and there around the house. Most of the time, I drank a lot in my afternoon classes, and by the time I was back at my caretaker’s house, she would put me in diapers and a few minutes later, I would have a nice wet diaper to wear for the afternoon. I would almost purposely do this to avoid wearing underwear as I find them cold and uncomfortable. In those few weeks, I’d slowly transitioned into accepting that I was wearing diapers and that I preferred them over conventional underwear. Seeing the wetness indicator change color was really cool, and to have someone see me wearing a visibly wet diaper, I felt a little bit naughty too.
There were times when I would come downstairs from my nap and meet my caretaker in the stairway. I would stop just at the top staircase and wet my diaper in front of her. She’d just smile at me as I’m relieving myself. When I was done, she would applaud me for confidently using my diapers, and sometimes she would joke about me being a naughty boy. I feel like on her end, now thinking about it, she didn’t want to discourage me from wetting my diaper as she’d rather me soil my diaper than have me ruin another piece of furniture for her.
For some reason, being encouraged by my caretaker, I would feel very confident about wearing my diapers around her and using it as intended. I feel like having someone to praise me for using my diaper gave me more attention than if I were to wear underwear. It gives me more desire and motivation to wear diapers over underwear.
Back in Grade 4, around the springtime, most of the afternoons would be spent with my dad as he worked earlier in the morning. My mom managed the evening shifts at Costco. I would say we were living well-off. Well… my dad got a promotion at his job but was expected to manage a different department in another city. My parents decided that it would be best to hire a caretaker to take care of me in the hours of their absence.
The caretaker they hired was a young lady. I think she just graduated from college and was looking to earn some decent cash before securing a proper job. I forgot what she had studied, but she was in health science.
The first few months of her caretaking after me, it went by relatively quickly as nothing interesting happened. Our afternoons and evenings would be spent over at her house. It consisted of finishing homework, then making dinner, then spending the evening playing games, and watching movies or shows, all before getting ready for bed at around 8 or 9 pm. On Fridays, she would let me stay late and if my parents had to work weekends, she would let me stay. Until my parents were able to come pick me up.
Most of my afternoons, evenings, and some weekends were spent away from my house. It did really begin to feel like I had a second home rather than being adopted by my caretaker. One day, I remembered coming home from school feeling exhausted, I passed out on the bed that my caretaker had given me. I don’t remember much, but I woke up being soaked, and my caretaker wasn’t too impressed. She was sympathetic to say it was perfectly fine, but I could tell she was slightly annoyed by it.
I don’t remember much, but by the following week, I was told to put on some diapers. At first, I thought that it was punishment for me as I had soiled the bed, but she insisted that these new underwear were special. I feel like she was avoiding another heavy accident, so she’d put me in diapers to help minimize it. I felt annoyed at first because I was wondering, “Why would big kids like me be in diapers? Can’t I prove myself that those bed wettings were purely accidental?”
I also felt annoyed because the diapers my caretaker had bought weren't pull-ups. No, they were full tab-style diapers. They were Tena Slip diapers. She also wanted me to wear nothing on the bottom, so she could see if the wetness indicator showed that my diapers were wet and that there was no hiding of those wetting accidents.
After 2 months, I was still wearing them. It sort of dawned on me that I was going to accept the fact that I was going to be in diapers regardless if I stayed dry throughout the day and night. And I slowly convinced myself that it should be okay to use the diapers as intended as my caretaker was disposing of dry diapers daily and I thought it was a waste. But every time I wanted to wet my diaper, I felt anxious that my sitter would become annoyed again.
It wasn’t until a few days later that my caretaker and I were playing games for the evening to pass the time. It was a Friday evening and we had pizza for dinner and she let me have a whole bottle of Pepsi for myself. My caretaker was sitting on the ground next to me while I was kneeling. We were playing this Lego game where it had a challenging puzzle for us to solve and my caretaker wanted me to lead the game. Like the kid that I was, I frequently stood up and helped guide my caretaker around the level, by pointing where things should be placed around the level.
Well… a few hours went by and I suddenly had the urge to pee. However, I was so invested in the game that we were playing together that I forgot about the consequences of soiling my diaper. I sort of raised myself up and began to let it flow out and wet my diaper. The feeling of wetting my diaper was quite satisfying, the warmness of my pee being absorbed felt quite nice. I felt like I was being discreet about it except that the wetness indicator changed color, the diaper began to sag, a small but audible hissing noise could be heard, and my caretaker paused to see what I was up to. She knew that I was filling up my diaper by the gesture I was giving off - a sign of relief, and a wet diaper around my waist.
I kneeled down and turned to my caretaker, seeing if she noticed or not. She did. I felt kind of guilty and embarrassed about doing it in front of her, but at that moment, I had to pee. I was expecting scrutiny and disappointment from her, however, she was more sympathetic about my wetting accident in my diaper than on the bed. She told me that “it was fine that I used my diaper,” and that “that’s what I bought them for, and you can use them” and that “I won’t blame you for using your diaper as intended. ”She assured me that it was completely okay to use my diaper and that she preferred me to soil my diaper than to accidentally soil onto one of her furniture and potentially ruin it.
It was scary to wet my diaper in front of her, let alone this being the second time I would cause a wetting accident in her house. But after hearing what my caretaker told me, I felt like wetting my diaper was rewarding. I got praised for wetting my diaper instead of being shamed on. She cheered me on by offering to change me when I felt like it, as supposed to immediately after I wet my diaper, to give me some freedom of choice, considering that I am old enough to ask about changes and not told to be changed.
So I happily sat down in my now wet and warm diaper. The feeling of the squish between my legs was nice. It sort of embraced that sensation of satisfaction and to be honest, I was quite proud of myself for wetting my diaper. The wetness indicator was also very pleasing to see. I felt like a baby who was old enough that he could make his own choices, but young enough to wet my diaper and feel innocent doing it. Like, “Oops, I soiled myself, and the diaper shows I had an accident.” I can’t lie or deny about wearing a wet diaper due to that wetness indicator line changing colors.
After we finished the level it was nearing bedtime. I had completely forgotten about the diaper I was wearing. It felt really nice around me and I forgot I was still wearing the wet diaper, a few hours after I soiled it. My caretaker seemed to not mind changing me either. After all, she did buy the diapers for wetting accidents just like that, and for nocturnal wettings. She said that “wetting is completely fine, just avoid messing in it,” and that “I can tell her that I’ve soiled the diaper so that she knows about it too because I had completely forgotten about my soiled diaper.”
After that first wetting and the experience of being complimented and cheered for, a few weeks went by and I had a few wetting accidents here and there around the house. Most of the time, I drank a lot in my afternoon classes, and by the time I was back at my caretaker’s house, she would put me in diapers and a few minutes later, I would have a nice wet diaper to wear for the afternoon. I would almost purposely do this to avoid wearing underwear as I find them cold and uncomfortable. In those few weeks, I’d slowly transitioned into accepting that I was wearing diapers and that I preferred them over conventional underwear. Seeing the wetness indicator change color was really cool, and to have someone see me wearing a visibly wet diaper, I felt a little bit naughty too.
There were times when I would come downstairs from my nap and meet my caretaker in the stairway. I would stop just at the top staircase and wet my diaper in front of her. She’d just smile at me as I’m relieving myself. When I was done, she would applaud me for confidently using my diapers, and sometimes she would joke about me being a naughty boy. I feel like on her end, now thinking about it, she didn’t want to discourage me from wetting my diaper as she’d rather me soil my diaper than have me ruin another piece of furniture for her.
For some reason, being encouraged by my caretaker, I would feel very confident about wearing my diapers around her and using it as intended. I feel like having someone to praise me for using my diaper gave me more attention than if I were to wear underwear. It gives me more desire and motivation to wear diapers over underwear.
