I am Diaper

• Published:May 13th, 2010
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• Published:December 10th, 2008
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   Woke up to the pleasant smell of coffee. Light was hurting my eyes. And then the sensation of heat. I become aware that my diaper body is being used to mop up spilt coffee. How low can I go?

• Published:December 5th, 2008
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 From my (very) limited view of the world, I can now ID a porn models pussy, more or less instantly, from the moment she opens her legs to put me on. And they all bare the mark of porn. The Tramp Stamp.

• 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? 

• 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.

• 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.

• 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.

• 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.

• 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.

• Published:November 2nd, 2008
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  I wonder if, as a diaper, I am made in his likeness? Maybe we do actually look the same. Except of course that he’d be God.