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How were your nappies bought and stored?
I was lucky that way in a sense . I was always in cloth terry nappies which were made for me mostly though the hospital supplied them as well . The place we lived in had a baby and toddler clothes shop . The lady and her four assistants used to make all the items and it was no problem for them to just up scale things to fit me .
Angel A little bit of hanky panky does you good .  Angel
(02-15-2020, 09:18 PM)Girlygirl Wrote: In the early days of my nappy punishment when it was just an occasional occurrence under my lolita style dresses they seemed to just appear; I suspect in reality mum must have been hoarding them with the knowledge that from time to time I was going to be wearing them.

In the latter stages of my nappy punishment however, by which I am referring to the stage just before I left home, I had to bring them in myself. As I was slated for secretary punishment during the day, I could pretend that I was buying them for someone else.

As for storage, at the point of the permanent regime, my entire wardrobe changed. Prior to this stage, my every day wardrobe had actually been fairly typical with my skirt, dress and nappy punishment stuff being kept in mum’s room...but of course once the new regime came into play, there was no need for me to have a male wardrobe at all; my male clothes went into the attic with a half dozen pencil skirts, a half dozen blouses and the same amount of high heels making up my new wardrobe.

My underwear was similarly cleared away and I had around 12 pairs of knickers to recycle on my top drawer. My second drawer was where my new pull up nappies were stored for night time. When I brought them in from the shop I had to open them up and lay them out in there just like regular underwear coming back from the wash.

A couple of questions, with the change in your wardrobe being from clothes for a boy to that of a girl, what did your neighbours make of the situation, particularly those of the boys who your probably knocked around with. And what did you do when it came to going to school. Surely the teachers would have raised their concern?
My petticoating and nappies up until the age of 18 was entirely on a punishment basis and so was kept pretty much entirely to the home (the only exceptions to this really being one particular foreign holiday when I had been naughty previously and the rare occasions I had to wear my friend’s- Gabrielle’s- uniform to school, for which a plausible excuse was already at hand). 

It wasn’t until I was 18 that I had to wear my female clothes (mostly my secretary uniform) during the day and my nappies at night on a permanent basis and by this time my life was heading in a different direction anyway (it marking the crossroads between my education and my work life. As you can imagine, what I had thought of as friends up until then wanted little to do with me afterwards but there was never really a point where teachers became a major factor as it was to employers that I had to present and I did so on the basis of being transgender. 

At the time I was just a male wearing women’s clothing but over the years since I followed through on that and I am now in the greater part (certainly I consider myself to be) female.
(12-30-2020, 06:45 PM)Girlygirl Wrote: Some embarrassing instances mentioned there, many of which I can relate to. In many ways, the fact that you weren’t under punishment is possibly as bad if not worse. I at least had the knowledge (possibly illusion) that by altering my behaviour I could get out of my nappies but if you were wearing them as a result of a more endemic problem you presumably had no such comfort. 

While a big part of my punishment was in having to use my nappies (and often continue to wear it for some time thereafter) simply the knowledge that someone else (specifically someone that I knew) might find out about my punishment was quite an effective deterrent in itself and I at least was lucky in that mother’s methods tended to guard against the outcome of this eventuality. 

As for your experiences wearing girl’s clothes, this is something I can certainly relate to and (I think I speak for most here) is an area in which we are always keen to learn of poster’s experiences.

Hi Girlygirl,
Thanks for your reaction. Indeed, I don’t think my stepmom every considered diapers as a primary means of punishment, it was mostly a practical solution for her. I just was a typical boy that didn’t put much thought into my personal hygiene, and unfortunately for me, she minded changing a diaper a lot less than scrubbing out dirty undies or toilets. So, there was always some type of ‘potty trouble’ involved in order for me to end up in diapers, but she definitely would often keep me in them for longer than necessary to drive her point across. And once the diapers were on, she didn’t see a reason to remove it and go through the whole ordeal of cleaning my powdered bottom just so I could go potty. So, that meant using them for their intended purpose. And while this usually meant wetting them, it also definitely occurred that I ended up filling the seat of my diapers. That was soooo embarrassing!

In the end, my stepmom certainly was aware how wearing diapers made me feel and she surely wasn’t afraid to use that. For example, whenever she thought I was in need of a spanking, she’d usually take care of that after dinner. However, while I was usually only diapered before bed, in case I got spanked I could be pretty sure that I’d end up in diapers right thereafter for the rest of the evening. And that often meant a diaper change before bed. There is something distinctly more embarrassing about an actual diaper change, meaning that disgusting soggy diaper would just be replaced with a new one, just like when you were a baby. Beyond evenings, some visible dribbles in my pants would end me in diapers for the whole day. Furthermore, because she usually did laundry on Friday, a pair of dirty underpants would often lead to me spending a whole weekend in diapers. And there have been a few occasions where it was a week or more, like that time I wet myself in the new car on the way to our holiday destination.

Still, it seems most of you guys had it worse with the intentional petticoating and diapers to boot! As soon as I have some time, I’ll see about writing down my experience of ending up in girl’s clothes (and a diaper).
Diapers were certainly something to be avoided (more so because of having to use them and wear them thereafter than merely wearing them). In that sense, had I ever been given the choice, I would have opted for petticoating over nappy punishment every time as while I was by no means enthused by either at the time (though I now wear what would then have been considered petticoating wear at the time on a daily basis) due to fear of other people discovering the punishment, at least with pure petticoating I didn’t have the sensation and smell of my own waste to contend with.

Mothers (or stepmothers in your case) certainly know what methods make us tick, don’t they?
(12-30-2020, 05:56 PM)oluiervier Wrote: I apologize for reviving this old topic, but when I read it, it brought back some memories. I was never structurally petticoat punished (although there were a few occasions that I ended up being dressed in girl’s clothes back in the days, but that’s another story for whomever is interested), but I did wear diapers for quite a bit; mostly for the nights. However, dribbling or skid marks in my underpants, the incidental daytime pants wetting, leaving the toilet a mess, or disrupting my stepmom’s schedule for an unplanned bathroom break, all have been grounds for me to end up in diapers for the day as well. And the questions about buying them and storing them brings back memories.

Unfortunately, I was a relatively small kid and that meant that I had no trouble fitting baby diapers. And my stepmother insisted on buying me Pampers. That always made me feel like such a baby! And I always dreaded it whenever we ran out and she would need to get more. For starters, she had her shopping list hanging on the pinboard in the hallway. That also meant that whenever we were running low on diapers, she’d add ‘Pampers’ to the list. Everyone who’d walk by the pinboard and had a glance at the prominently featured list, would see that my stepmom needed to buy baby diapers…and I was the only boy in the house. While most people that walked by probably never noticed, a few must have seen it and done the math themselves, and some actually ended up inquiring with my stepmom. And unfortunately, she wasn’t the one to beat around the bush. I remember one occasion when a curios neighbor stopped by who was pregnant at the time. She noticed the shopping list and started inquiring with my stepmom whether she was looking after a baby. My stepmom reacted with surprise and that should have told the neighbor enough to figure out what was really happening, but unfortunately, she couldn’t let it go. To make it more embarrassing, this was when the baby powder had also run out, meaning it was right underneath the diapers on the shopping list. Her mommy hormones were clearly already out of control as she discussed my bedwetting with my stepmom. You could imagine my blush as she told me how lucky I was that I had a mommy that took such good care of me. Of course, she was surprised that stepmom still used baby powder as well and swooned how nice I would smell, to which my stepmom bluntly replied: “he does in the evening indeed.” With that she left little to the imagination that the diapers were more than just a precaution. 

Usually, whenever we were in need of more diapers, my stepmom would just get them during her usual shopping trips. Luckily, this would oftentimes be while I was at school, but that didn’t mean that it’d be without embarrassment. For one, we lived in a small town and I knew that it was difficult not to run into a familiar face there. She would frequently come back from the store and say things like: “Oh, I ran into “bla bla bla” at the store and she told me that “bla bla bla.” Especially on days where she bought diapers, I’d always cross my fingers that no one noticed the big pack of Pampers in her shopping cart or while she was unloading the car. Especially people who knew her would also know that she didn’t have a toddler or baby at home. I still remember at least one occasion where a girl in my class started asking me curious questions as to why my stepmom was buying diapers because her sister was working the cash register that day.

Even worse than my stepmom buying them on her usual weekly shopping, would be when I had to join for shopping trips. I never enjoyed joining to begin with, but sometimes she’d swing by the store on the way back from school or she’d do big groceries in the weekend. I distinctly remember a few instances where she needed to buy diapers while I accompanied her to the store. Those were absolutely mortifying. Although, I am glad that she never made me carry them myself, it felt just as embarrassing to me as that it was casually placed in the shopping cart with all the other groceries. The packages were bulky and because she insisted on using Pampers, that also meant that everyone no doubt could recognize the familiar baby brand from a mile away. All I could do was stare at the ground, but in hindsight I am sure that made it even more conspicuous for people around us. She could just be buying diapers for another child at home, or perhaps she was helping out a friend with their shopping, but a boy nervously staring at the floor right next to her surely would help people decipher the purpose of those diapers. While that was embarrassing enough, there even have been two times or so that I was actually wearing a diaper during the shopping trip. This was stepmom’s solution whenever I had an accident or otherwise had been sloppy after going to the bathroom (not wiping well, leaving the toilet a mess, etc). Let me tell you, I still remember how nervous I was standing next to my stepmom in the baby aisle of the supermarket as she browsed through the packages to find the size 6 Pampers. I was self-conscious enough already about the noticeable thick padding and the unmistakable crinkling sounds (this was before ‘cloth-like’ baby diapers), but I also knew that if anyone had a trained eye in recognizing a padded diaper butt, it would be the mommies standing there at the baby aisle shopping for the very same thing that I was wearing. I could feel their eyes burning as I was trying to find a position where they wouldn’t notice my diaper as much, but this was difficult; from the back and side they would surely notice my bulging behind and from the front I didn’t really dare to face them. One particular instance that I’ll never forget is that we once ran into my teacher at the store while my stepmom had just placed two big packages of diapers into the shopping cart. I saw my teacher glancing at the diapers repeatedly and at one point in the conversation she casually inquired whether my stepmom had any other ‘little ones’ to which she answered that I was the only one and enough of a handful. I still remember that little smile she gave me as she connected the dots in her head. This by the way would not be the last embarrassing encounter with that teacher. My stepmom at one point in time told her that I still get spanked at home, which definitely resulted in a lot more teacher’s notes to take home and I even ended up wearing a diaper while I was in her classroom but that is a story for another time if people are interested.  

In terms of storing the diapers, I was relatively lucky that they would usually be neatly stored away in my room. However, she kept a few supplies in different places in my room and hence there was always a risk if someone really looked around that they would pick up some hint towards my embarrassing nighttime. She usually kept a stack of diapers, baby wipes, and other changing supplies in my nightstand. Unfortunately, to me she always seemed obsessed with preventing diaper rash and that meant wiping, powdering, oil, lotion, cream, you name it, so the drawer in my nightstand was full of baby stuff. And that also meant that there always lingered a hint of that classic baby powder scent around my room. This was something I myself was painfully aware off, and always hoped that no one else would smell that. I definitely remember once having a friend over who remarked that it “smells like a baby room in here.” Then besides my nightstand, she usually had the package of leftover Pampers standing in my closet, which meant that every morning as I got dressed, I’d see that embarrassing package of baby diapers standing there. Furthermore, there was that baby changing pad that she always stored next to the closet against the wall. It wasn’t an eye catcher but to the astute observer it could certainly be noticeable. This meant, just as was eloquently worded in the first post of the thread, that every second that there were visitors I’d be nervous that someone would discover my secret. And over the years, there have been a number of instances where exactly that happened.

Sometimes this was due to sloppiness of my stepmom. For example, every night before diapering me she would take the stack of diaper, wipes, and whatever baby products she thought she’d need from the drawer and place it on my nightstand. Then she would leave it there overnight because she would still need the baby wipes the next morning. She always insisted on wiping me thoroughly even if I’d have a shower first thing in the morning anyways. So embarrassing! That also meant that each morning I awoke to a babyish reminder of what I was wearing staring at me from the nightstand. Usually, she would immediately put everything back where it belonged after wiping me down, but it happened a few times that she was in a rush and that she left the supplies out. Two times this was with the cleaning lady. Once I saw her coming out of my room as I walked up the stairs and she sniggered a little at me. Her English wasn’t great, so we never really interacted much, and I didn’t think much about it until I opened the door to my room and my heart skipped a beat. Turns out my stepmom had bought a new pack of Pampers and left it out on the bed to clean it up later. It wasn’t long thereafter that I came home from school again on a day that the cleaning lady had come by and I saw that my stepmom had left the stack of diaper, the baby wipes, the baby powder and the diaper rash cream out on my nightstand. I saw they had been rearranged and hated the idea that the cleaning lady had actually handled my embarrassing supplies. This weren’t the only times though that my secret was discovered in my room. I once had girl over who was tutoring me who noticed a used diaper in the trashcan (which my stepmom forgot to empty) and there was the time that a babysitter who only knew I wore protection (my stepmom for a while diapered me for the night so that the babysitter wouldn’t need to do that) but she was curious and ended up exploring my room in more detail. 

That’s the relevant memories that come to mind in terms of storing and buying diapers back in the days.

Oluievier, Can you tell us more about your classroom experiences with your teacher?
(01-03-2021, 12:28 PM)Bobby111 Wrote: Oluievier, Can you tell us more about your classroom experiences with your teacher?

Certainly, Bobby, the first time that happened was a particularly embarrassing day. That teacher and I always seemed to have it in for each other. One of the ways which I figured out to annoy her and, in addition, get out of boring topics in class, would be to raise my hand and ask to go to the bathroom. She’d always let me go and I’d stay away longer and entertain myself in the hallways, making faces to classmates and friends through the windows, for example. She once busted me standing in front of the window making faces and ever since, she wasn’t that lenient anymore with my bathroom requests. Usually, that didn’t matter much except this one time during an assignment.

The toilets had been disgusting during the break, so I figured it’d just hold it all in until after school. Unfortunately, halfway through the assignment I got a stronger and stronger urge to go, so I raised my hand and asked the teacher whether I could go to the restrooms. Unfortunately, the skeptical teacher remembered the last time. Instead, she reprimanded me that I had opportunity to go in the break, so that I’d just have to wait until after the assignment. I sat there squirming in my seat for probably another 15 minutes until I recognized that I was about to have an accident, so I stood up and ran out of the classroom to the surprise of the teacher. When I came back a few minutes later she was not pleased and explained that she felt forced to take my assignment back and that meant a failing grade. Now I started to get nervous, although my mom never really cared about my performance at school, my stepmother found it especially important. My last grades all haven’t been great, and I was at risk for failing the school year and staying back for a year. Of course, I got a teacher’s note and went home as soon as the others handed in their assignments.

I dreaded the walk home, knowing what a teacher’s note usually meant after dinner. At home, to my surprise though, my stepmom was actually more in disbelief that I hadn’t been allowed to go to the bathroom rather than being angry at me. She decided to give the teacher a call. I felt more confident with my stepmom seemingly supporting me and I set myself at the kitchen table doing homework while I overheard my stepmom on the phone. She explained that I was accident-prone (blush!) and that it could happen that sometimes I need to go unexpectedly. Then she said that she’d really appreciate a chance for me to get a good grade. Later I heard from my stepmom that apparently the teacher told her that it would have to be during detention hours not to disturb the class, and that she was reluctant because this could apparently just happen again. I remember to this day that my stepmom responded something along the lines of: “What if I could guarantee you that it won’t happen again tomorrow…Well, what if I send hem while wearing some protection…indeed, what if he’d be wearing a diaper?” You can imagine my shock as I heard the dreaded term ‘diaper’! As if that wasn’t bad enough, my stepmom went on to embarrassingly explain that I still wet the bed and that I frequently wear diapers at night. My heart sank as the ladies agreed, my teacher would send me home ten minutes early, and then my stepmom would deliver me back ‘fully protected’.

Needless to say, I tried to change my stepmom’s mind, but the threat of a spanking and wearing a diaper for the whole day to school quickly made me settle down. The next day I really dreaded facing the teacher after the embarrassing conversation her and my stepmom had the day before. I felt so ashamed every time she looked at me and I tried avoiding eye contact to rest of the day. Fifteen minutes or so before the end of the day she announced that I could leave early to ‘take care of something’ and she would see me soon for the redo of the assignment. I can still see her triumphant little smile as she said it. I felt a little queasy walking home, knowing that the teacher knew exactly what was going to happen. At home, my stepmom went to work quickly; ushering me upstairs to my room, where the diaper supplies were already laid out. She told me to take down my pants and undies and lie down on the changing pad on the bed. I was hesitant but the threat of sitting on the hard wooden chair with a red bottom made me change my mind. Before I knew it, I had my legs held up high in the air as she extensively wiped my bottom and front. Then applied a thick layer of diaper rash cream to my bottom and then dusted my diaper area extensively with baby powder. I tried to argue that this wasn’t necessary, as I was mortified to have this baby scent aura around me, but of course this was all nonsense according to my stepmom. After she taped the diaper in place, she helped me up and pulled me shorts over my diaper. I felt the fabric was stretched tightly over my padded rear. Furthermore, I knew that my polo shirt did not cover the back of my shorts adequately, so I was very nervous about my bulging diaper butt. My stepmom decided to accompany me back to school to make sure that I wouldn’t get any other ideas. The walk back to school was horrible. I had walked it hundreds of times, but now with every step I heard the obvious crinkling emanating from my pants and the thick diaper between my legs always made it difficult to walk normally.

Luckily, the schoolyard was empty as we walked to the school and we didn’t encounter people in the hallways. When we arrived at the classroom, my stepmom opened the door and I looked right into the eager gaze of the teacher. She invited me into the classroom and those ten paces seemed like the longest in my life. It was silent in the classroom and I could hear the obvious crinkling and swishing of my diaper sound as loud as thunder to me. Certainly, the teacher would hear that as well. I could feel her eyes burning in my back, no doubt trying to get a look at my padded behind, as I walked to my desk and sat down. My stepmom embarrassingly emphasized before she left that there would be no reason for me to get up from the desk and that I better behave. I still remember the teacher smugly smiling at me for what seemed like an eternity once the door closed.

Then she mentioned that this must have been the first time for her that a student was diapered in class and that she applauded my stepmom’s dedication to my education, although she was glad not having to deal with diapers herself anymore. While she usually always handed out the assignments, she now had me walk to her desk to pick it up. What a walk of shame that was, and on the way back I could only hope that my polo shirt obstructed enough of her view. I still remember that disgusting squishy feeling while walking of the diaper rash cream that also made my diaper stick to my behind. The entire time doing the assignment I couldn’t help but think about how my stepmom had put that embarrassing package of Pampers in the shopping cart when we ran into the teacher some time ago, and now there was little doubt left for her to know who those baby diapers were meant for. Worse yet, because my stepmother told her about my bedwetting, she’d even know that I sometimes actually used the diapers for their intended purpose. Despite her own explicit reservations of dealing with diapers, she did seem somewhat amused by my predicament. Every time I moved around in my seat, you’d hear the telltale crinkling and every time I looked up, I was staring right at her subtly smirking face. Unfortunately for me, the toner in the copier was low and the last questions on the assignment sheet were faded out. Unfortunately, her solution was simple, to invite me up to the blackboard and write the answers down there while she read me the questions. Imagine my shame as I stood there in front of the blackboard, giving her a full view no doubt of my padded rear and every time I wrote something on the board, I felt my polo shirt riding up. This got even more obvious as a piece of chalk broke off and she instructed me to pick it up from the ground. I felt cool air on my back and as I stood up again and tried to yank my shirt back down, I felt the plastic of my diaper sticking out over the waistband of my pants, so I surely must have treated her to a view of the baby blue plastic edge of the diaper.

When my stepmom picked me up after the hour was over, unfortunately, there would be a little more conversation. Although luckily, the teacher reported that I had behaved well, she did seem quite interested in my bedwetting, asking my stepmom a bunch of questions where she also mentioned that it wasn’t the first time that I’d be in diapers during the day. That was the start of some drastically improved behavior at school for me, as the teacher now knew something about me that I never wanted any of my classmates to know. She mentioned diapers a few more times, including once when she was discussing the topic of bedwetting in class, she casually mentioned that some boys and girls may even still need to wear diapers, after which she smiled at me. No one else noticed, but I surely did! And then there was another time that I ended up in diapers for a long detention (I had neglected to hand over a teacher’s note), which of course ended up with me having a red bottom and my stepmom trying hard to convince the teacher not to send me to principal. She agreed on condition of a long detention, especially once my stepmom offered preemptive diapering. I’d actually end up using it, but that’s another story. I apologize for my lengthy reply, but some of these experiences are etched in my memory and it almost feels somewhat therapeutic to write it out like that Blush .
I think the main takeaway from that is not to cry wolf. I imagine you thought twice before asking for a toilet break during class afterwards. 

As far as nappies in school go, that is of course amongst the most embarrassing situations one could find themselves in and you were perhaps lucky that your predicament occurred outside of normal hours. Whilst I never wore nappies to school, my sister experienced it once (due largely to an outburst of her own petulance) but it didn’t do anything at all for her street cred.
(01-04-2021, 06:55 PM)Girlygirl Wrote: I think the main takeaway from that is not to cry wolf. I imagine you thought twice before asking for a toilet break during class afterwards. 

As far as nappies in school go, that is of course amongst the most embarrassing situations one could find themselves in and you were perhaps lucky that your predicament occurred outside of normal hours. Whilst I never wore nappies to school, my sister experienced it once (due largely to an outburst of her own petulance) but it didn’t do anything at all for her street cred.

Ha ha ha, indeed that was the take home message! I don't think I ever asked her again Big Grin !

And I suppose you're right, I guess in hindsight I'd have to be very happy that it happened outside of the normal classroom hours, but it surely felt embarrassing enough already. But your poor sister had it worse! Very surprising that this didn't affect her street cred. I guess that means she managed to keep it a secret?

Thank you so much for taking the time to share these intimate and humiliating details from your childhood. I feel as if I am reading one of my own ABDL stories! Smile

If it is not too much trouble, would you be so kind as to tell us more about your long detention experience?

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