Don’t Say a Prayer For Me….

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 29th, 2008
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  The girl is on her knees. I can tell by the way her arse is pressing against me. From the sounds and the slight but rhythmic movement, I can surmise that she’s sucking cock. It’s both interesting and disturbing that the only time I’m ever on my knees is when performing a sex act, and yet I know that I should be praying. Praying to the Cock of God!

Things Can Only Get Better

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 27th, 2008
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    From where I was lying, I could just about see the TV, on at the end of the studio. Apparently we’re all doomed, with a serious financial melt down in full swing. Hopefully this’ll translate into less work, and therefore, less suffering for me. So whilst those around me tear their hair and rant/starve, I’ll be happily sleeping.

My Diaper Journey

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 23rd, 2008
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I am so very tired and weary of my life, trapped in the body of a diaper. My choices are not mine. I can do nothing but hope that at some point I’ll be opened up, and catch a fleeting glimpse of the world beyond mine. And yet I am not blessed with memory for the beautiful things. Only the shit that is mine. Whenever I ask God who am I, he tells me that my life function is all. But I struggle to accept that. And the more I struggle, the more he baits me, throwing me deeper and deeper into the darkness. Is this how I shall be saved? 

Tour De Pants

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 19th, 2008
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  Lots of rubbing and panting. Another day at the fun factory. The stagnant air is filled with the smell of cheesy cunt and sweat. I can see nothing. I wait for the inevitable gush of piss or sperm, but nothing happens. Just the same movement and hard breathing. My diapered body is getting sore. Eventually it stops and when I am opened I briefly glimpse an exercise bike. And I am saved.

Fly Me To The Moon

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 17th, 2008
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  I dream of space travel. Flying through the cosmos at the speed of light, as I look back towards the shrinking Earth. And then, putting all my earthly terrors behind me, I speed onto the next solar system. Blah, blah, blah, you sneer. But i know that every time the Space Shuttle takes off, my brother diapers are there.

Weeping

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 14th, 2008
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  The feeling of doom, as if all the wind has been sucked out and you can feel yourself dropping over the edge into the abyss. That’s how I feel right now. Hot, dark and smelly, well, nothing new there. But it is a very particular smell. The stench of something rotting. And dead. There is the sensation of something warm, wet and kind of sticky against me. I cannot breathe. I’m finally opened to the smiling face of a nurse. Looking back, I see an old man with weeping bed sores. We both prey for death.

Keep it Real

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 11th, 2008
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The sensation of wetness and force awakens me. I can see nothing, but can hear the muffled sounds of a fake chick, fake build up to a fake orgasm. She’s rubbing herself through me. Pressing and pushing me almost inside her cunt. It’s pretty disturbing. Linsey Lohan, Tom Cruise, Michael Douglas and this chick….I hate bad acting.

Waves of Tears

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 9th, 2008
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Most of my days start in the studio props room, filled with sad tacky items, which themselves fill sad and tacky porn sets. One night I must of fallen from my usual resting place, into a box of nick-knacks below. And that night I was awoken by the sound of the sea. Lying there in the darkness I felt the cool breeze and smelt the salty ocean as it ebbed and flowed in my grateful ears. Gradually I became aware of Gods presence. Filling me with love. Hot tears came and I felt choked up. And so I slept under His watchful and caring eye. Next morning I awoke to find that I’d fallen onto a seashell.

Cock Block

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 6th, 2008
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     Opened up, I see a very petty face smiling down at me. Sparkling eyes of the bluest blue. Silky bottle blond hair. A lovely fuck-me mouth. Well I guess life could be worse. But then I’m lifted up and away from her and suddenly a hard cock comes into view. Fucksocks. She’s going to jerk him off using ME! Before the thought has properly formed, my diapered body is wrapped around this dick, whilst she frantically strokes him off. Grunting, sweating, swelling and finally hot wetness along with that particularly revolting floury smell. And then the darkness. Welcome to my Hell.

The Diaper and the Dead

by Diaper Sex Lover
  • Published:November 4th, 2008
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    Hmmm… an uneasy feeling that something is not right.By the dim light that now comes through the sides I can make out, well, I’m not exactly sure what it is. Wrinkled and withered, covered in moles and discoloured skin, along with grey wiry pubic hair, and with the smell of a thousand year old training shoes couples with the breathe of death itself.Then, when opened, the first thing I see is an old, old cunt, followed by an old,old face. Can’t really tell the difference. Looking beyond this into the room, I can make out lots of old people. OMFG. Somehow I’ve travelled down the wrong wormhole and ended up here, to be used by oldies. Let’s hope no-one dies whilst I’m on the job.

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