 copy.jpg)
The assistant said something about the model only being willing to work with her boyfriend. And later they came to work. Whilst laying open in the changing room, I heard them speaking about the day to day, just as any couple might speak. And then, just before starting, they gave each other alittle kiss and a hug. Something so insignificant and yet so full of meaning. I felt a cloud of lonelyness descend. For I am so alone. How I long for a hug or a kiss. How I long to be seen as the person I truely am beneath this plastic and fluff exterior. I look to God. Am I loved? But I never get an answer.
Because my conscious moments are so fleeting, I’m sometimes confused as to whether I’m really awake or dreaming. In lucid moments I can feel the hands that lift my diapered body, can feel the hot pee and poop and smell the old sperm on my damp padding. And though I must sleep through the darkness which is the consuming part of my existence, the times when I get to see and bathe in the light are so few and so short, that I wonder if they really happened at all. My life as a diaper fills me with sadness. The only consolation is that my dreams are sadder.
I really hate it when they dump on me. Ok, like I know I’m a diaper and all that, but pleease, not the poop! I get so depressed thinking about self esteem and my station in life. And the smell stays with me for days. Last night all this weird juice stuff was coming outta this girl who was really going at it with her vibrator. That is, coming out of her revolting stinky cunt. Whatever it was, the vibrator and I concluded that this was bad. We had barely started conversing then, a burst of blinding light as she pulled him out and away. His warning was lost as she pulls me tight. The fart was a prelude. Then came the dump. God I hate my life.
When my diapered eyes where opened I just knew this would be bad. The dude is into Adult Baby and has just broken news of his to his chick. He spreads me out and I look into his eyes. He’s nervous as fuck. She looks at me with that familiar distain. He lays her on me. I see she has a hairy butthole. And genital warts. Darkness falls as they do e up. It’s unbearable hot and it stinks in here. I start to pray…
Got used in a sex video for Diapersexvidoes.com. The assistant opened me up and I just lay there for the longest time, looking at the lights, and camera and shit. Things went kinda hazy. If I could only break free. My head started to swim. I sometimes think of those fairy tales where the princess kisses the frog and eh voila! Ahhh…to taste freedom. I awake from my daydream to hot piss and sperm raining down on me. The lights and sounds are blurred and muffled as that stuff gets into my eyes and ears. I yern for death. But like the Flying Dutchmen of diapers, my fate is to eternally circle the globe, with glimpses of light and freedom that are then dashed by shit and piss.
Within the multiverse of diaper lives, why is it that mine can only focus on those used by couples having sex in them. I sleep through time, only to be awakened when undone and then subjected to the friction and the grunting, before being tossed aside, broken and heavy with the saturation of all bodily fluids, where I lie with my compatriots, the condom and the tampon. I die and like ether, I am then trasported to wait for my next encounter….
