Long pretty fingers are stoking a pert little cunt inside my diapered body. I can smell it. And though life should be pretty damn good at this point….I’m filled with sadness and self loathing. How I wish it would just end.
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I lay on the table open and awaiting the model. The sun shines through the window and it plays it’s dappled light across the white fluffyness of my body. And for just a fleeting moment, I saw the sun rising over white clouds.
Lots of grunting and moaning. It is dark and hot in here. It smells of pussy. Suddenly my world is filled with light as I’m pulled aside and I see a ……cucumber?!? being inserted. I have nothing against vegetarians, but was expecting the meat course. So I’m rather pleasantly surprised. At least there’s only one type of liquid to deal with!
When I am opened, and can look down and see over my pristine white body, I imagine myself as a cloud, all fluffy and light. That a gentle breeze might blow me away to a better life and more certain future. Even if it meant death. Come wind. Come tempest. Release me.
Are we human or are we diapers?
My pads are vital, your piss is cold,
And I’m on my knees looking for the answer,
Are we human or are we diaper?
Once I was speaking to God. Then something happened and I could no longer hear him clearly. His voice became muffled and faint….as if someone had diapered my ears. And so they had.
In the darkness I can hear a child crying softly. How it makes my heart ache. There is an abyss and I am staring into it. The crying has stopped and all is still. A door closes. A phone rings for the longest time and goes unanswered. Now, if only death would come to me.
Woman: What kind of underwear do you like; boxers or briefs?
Man: depends….
I am told that there exist a web site where all the ordeals I have suffered are on display for all to see. To think of all those shameful videos flying around the world. All those people looking at me, fantasizing and then jerking off. The very idea fills me with shame.
The Noble Truth of Suffering is this: Birth is suffering, ageing is suffering, sickness is suffering, death is suffering; sorrows and lamentation, pain, grief and despair are suffering; association with the unpleasant is suffering, dissociation from the pleasant is suffering; not to get what one wants is suffering – in short, the five aggregates of attachment are suffering. Fuck that! And I thought I had it bad.
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