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Most times I come back as Attends. Sometimes as Tenner. But never cloth. if I were the latter, maybe I have more “conscious” time, more time to see the real world, as I suppose, they would wash and hang me out to dry. Hmmm…hanging out to dry, sounds like how Jesus treated me.
Almost got used yesterday. But a brave and selfless pair of plastic pants stepped in and made the right impression. I returned to darkness.
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Girl/Girl….that is two chicks doing the do to/with each other….but in diapers.At some point they are both sitting on me rubbing their disgusting cunts on my padded body. They then pull each other’s cunt lips apart (why?) and give me a view only a butcher could appreiciate. Some sort of whitish gunk starts comming out of one of them. In a perfect world, it would be snowing.
Sometimes in my darkest moments I try and cheer myself up by imagining that I have a child. I don’t know if “it” is human, but I only hope he is not a diaper, following in his fathers footsteps. When he was a baby, how happily I could diaper him, and then again, when he’s very old.
In the darkness I could only smell. Something I’m not quite sure what…but it does kind of remind me of the smell of cat! Yes, I can feel hairs all over me.And I seem to be lying in some sort of flat container.Next thing I feel are soft paws. I suddenly wake up to find myself staring up at a cats arse. I don’t understand.But as I see the shit appearing, I realise that I’m being used in the cat litter tray. From suffering one type of pussy to another one. How much lower can I go?
I already know what today’s scene will be. i could hear them talking of it.But I try to push it to the back of my mind.I think of lying on a beach in Phuket. Hang gliding around the Matterhorn. Of a warm breeze that caresses my body as it blows across the Sahara. This works and I come out of my day dream just as the work finishes. And as they open my diapered body to take me off, I see a tomato seed and a piece of sweetcorn. Sweet Jesus!.jpg)
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It’s so hot and claustriphobic in here, I can barely stand it. It smells of cheap perfume and cheaper cunt. A cock is pressing up againgst the outside of me. I can hear someone crying. After what feels like an eternity of suffering, the smell of hot piss fills my small enclosure. The crying gets louder. And only when the sound fills my ears do I realize, that it’s me, crying from my very soul for all the unendourable that I endour.
When first awakened from my heavy slumber, my only sense is that of the muffled voices nearby. It is during this time that I get to know the names of the soon to be wearer. My companions through this dark journey. My giver of light. My deliverer of piss and shit. So…Sharon, Helen, Sarah, Rebbecca and all the rest of you, thankyou for giving me life, and Fuck You for all the other stuff you give.
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Immortality. I often wonder as to the nature of it, with particular regard to myself and more so, my predicament. I’m pretty sure that all the people I so briefly glimse in my moments of conciousnes will all die. I mean that the nature of people. But not I. Do I have many lives or just this continuos one? It’s true, I have no clear memory of those before, and yet each new situation seems somehow familiar. It’s deeper than deja vu. At least, unlike Connor MacLeod in Highlander, I shall be spared the pain of watching those I love grow old and perish. Still, on a positive note, though my life is absolute shit, at laest I’m not Scottish!
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I day dream of the place of my birth. Under the bight light and whirring machines, of the diaper factory I was concieved and born. Everything was so clean and white. I was amongst all my brothers and sisters there. We laughed and giggled. How earnest and young we were. Through all the subsequent years of suffering and pain I often try to picture my mother and father. But the image seems just out of reach. I don’t know what to feel, but I feel I miss them.
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