A Holiday in Diapers by Deewet

[archives]

A Holiday in Diapers - - Part 1

Author: Deewet, May/3/2004 18:59:37 [-04]



A Holiday in Diapers

By Deewet



Part 1 of 2





Suicide. I’ve read that the most suicides are during the holidays and although I’ve never considered killing myself, as I sit alone in a new city during Christmas, I can see how loneliness could drive someone to that extreme. My small Christmas tree seems pathetic making me wish I hadn’t bothered.



My eyes are tired from reading the endless stories on the web. Lately I’d moved from transgender stories, which enticed me with fantasies about using my little girl size to excite men, to sissy stories. Not that I’m gay, I love women. It’s just that y size doesn’t attract the opposite sex who are looking for a hunk.



I don’t know why but the thoughts of being diapered are with me all the time now. I’ve got a collection of panties and am thinking of expanding with the baby underwear.



Then, I wonder if I’ll ever meet someone. It would be so nice to meet a woman and maybe push these other fantasies out of my life.



I turned from the computer and am about to hit the remote to watch some TV when a soft knock comes to my apartment door. “It’s me,” says a familiar voice. It is my neighbor from across the hall, the only person I know in New York except the few people from work. Diana is a big woman who I know is probably also alone this Christmas Eve. She has watched my cat before when I had to leave for business and we have talked over beers and watched a movie together, but that’s been it. We would make a weird looking couple with her over six feet tall and me barely five feet.



“One minute,” I say, scrambling to find my jeans to cover my pink panties. I smile for a second, wondering how shocked she’d be if I came to the door in these panties.



“I was wondering if you like to come over for a drink,” she says when I open the door. “No one should be alone tonight.”



I’m very grateful and say yes quickly. Maybe too quickly, I worry. Maybe she’ll think I’m a desperate fool.



She doesn’t. She smiles and leads me across the hall. And, I mean lead. Surprisingly, she grabs my hand tightly and pulls me into her apartment.



Her place is so warm and friendly compared to my sparse place. Her Christmas tree is large and with a sinking feeling, I see a pile of presents. She obviously had a big Christmas planned with her family or someone and she was just taking a little pity on me.



“I don’t want to be a bother,” I mumble.



“Are you kidding me,” she says. “It just took me a lot of nerve to come get you and no way are you leaving now.”



She leads me to the couch, but instead of letting me sit there, she gently pushes me to sit on the floor. “I believe Santa has been here for you.”



I’m stunned and embarrassed as she leaves me to retrieve the presents under her tree. In my self-pity about being alone I never thought to get her a present. I’m even more shocked to see that all the presents are for me.



“I—I didn’t get you anything,” I stammer.



She plops on the coach behind me, with a leg on each side of me. For a second I feel like a little kid at Christmas. “Don’t worry about that. These are for both of us.”



This puzzles me. “Open the green one first,” she says.



I open the small box and find a pacifier. I try to turn to her but she will not let me. “Please, don’t say a word until you have opened everything.”



With my hands shaking slightly I take the red box she hands to me. In this box are five shower caps. At least I think they are shower caps until I pull one out of the box and see that it is actually a pair of plastic pants. There is a pink pair, a light blue pair, a pair with dancing animals, a pair with blocks and one pair is clear. I start to say something again, but I’m muffled by the pacifier she sticks in my mouth. “Relax, I got into your computer,” she says. “The stories sounded so sweat and with our size difference, this makes so much sense.”



I’m not sure what to do. I continue to stare at the oversized plastic pants until she prods me to open the rest of the presents. When I finish, there are a stack of diapers, pins, powder and such on one side of me. On the other are ruffled socks, black baby shoes (adult sized of course) an adorable purple jumper with bows and ballerinas, a blouse with a purple lined peter pan collar and puffy sleeve. The biggest box contains a huge petticoat.



I still had the pacifier in my mouth when she stood and left the room for a second. She came back with a comforter she spread across the floor. She kneels and pats it for me to come over and lie down.



This is as if I’ve fallen into another world and my wildest fantasies are being met. She seems so loving and I trust her completely as I crawl over and lie on my back.

[archives]

A Holiday in Diapers Part 2

Author: Deewet, Dec/24/2003 09:43:02 [-04]



She didn’t let me lie down right away. She pulls me to a sitting position and begins to pull off my shirt. I can’t place the emotions I feel as I passively let her take off my clothes. Not since I was a little boy, did a woman strip me for something besides sex, and then I have to admit to myself, only two women had done it for sex and both times ended in embarrassing disappointment.



My skin seems alive with sensitivity. The touch of her soft hands on my shoulders and then my hairless chest sends shivers through my whole body. I close my eyes as she pushes me onto my back. When she takes off my jeans and sees my red panties and shaved legs she’ll be the only person to know my secret. I want to assure her that I’m not gay, but the pacifier stops me and I don’t want to remove it from my mouth. For some reason, I’m afraid to do anything that might break this spell.



She says nothing after I’m down to my panties. Instead, she does something so very nice. “Those are so perfect on you, I almost hate to take them off,” she says in a soothing, motherly voice. “But, we have to get my little girl into her soft, safe diapers and plastic pants. I’ve been waiting to make you my baby since you first moved across the hall.”

Her voice makes things sound right.



In the background, Christmas music plays while she turns me into something new and wonderful. My panties are gone and I’m as naked as a baby. A familiar smell fills the room as she sprinkles powder on me. When her soft hands rub the baby powder on me I don’t get aroused. In my state of mind, that would be wrong as I regress into a place in my past. A place we all have been before when the world was new for us and we weren’t alone.



My submission to her is locked with the diaper pins she uses to put me firmly in the diaper. She is my mommy and I have complete trust in her. I lift my legs as she pulls the plastic pants on me. These also bring long lost memories of being young and not able to control my body functions.



The transformation continues in the light from the Christmas tree. First comes the blouse. She coos as she buttons the purple buttons on the blouse. She puts the pretty dress on me, zipping it up in the back and then pulls up the petticoat under my skirt. I’ve always thought I have nice shapely legs and they look wonderful in the black Mary Jane shoes and ruffled sissy socks. She doesn’t let me look in the mirror until she puts a blond wig on me and little dashes of make-up on my face. The last step is lavender polish on my nails to match my dress



When she takes me to the mirror, my knees almost buckle. I can’t believe the change. My old self has vanished, replaced by this vision of lace, ruffles and cuteness. I focus first on my eyes and face, framed in the silky blond hair of my wig. The blue eye shadow makes my blue eyes look dazzling. I suc-k harder on the pacifier as my eyes travel down to my dress. The petticoat pushes out the dancing ballerinas on my dress. The waist is high, not at my real waist, but at my thin chest, making the whole thing so babyish.



I turn to Diana and smile, tears forming in my eyes. There is a bond that forms between us and I’m no longer alone. She opens her arms and I hug her tight. In her strong arms, I glance over to the mirror and I see only a little girl, hugging her mommy, her plastic pants picking out from under the ruffles of the petticoat.



“Come on,” she says to me. “You have more presents to open.”



I waddle over to the tree -- I can only waddle in these thick diapers – and see more presents. They are all for me and as I sit on the floor opening the gifts, while she video tapes me, I realize that she plans for this to be more than a one night of fantasy playing. There are more dresses, tights, shoes, rompers, pajamas with feet, baby bottles, and disposable and cloth diapers. My head spins and I’m swallowed in this new world.



Soon, I’m finished. She smiles and puts me on the couch. For a few minutes, she leaves me alone as she gets a bottle ready for me. I look down at my legs sticking out of my petticoat and wish this night would never end. It feels so right, sitting on my padded bottom and feeling the plastic of my pants on the inside of my thighs, my legs apart because of the thick diaper. As I wait for her, I begin to wet my diaper. The spreading warmth feels so right and wonderful. The wetness safely protected by my plastic pants.



She returns with my bottle and with my head in her lap, I suc-k down the warm milk. The stereo is playing, “I’ll be Home for Christmas.”