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This story is absolutely true, my first experience of 
						diaper play in twenty years. All the events took place 
						on the night of May 1, 2016, through the morning of May 
						2. 
9:50 PM: I take over 3 ounces of castor oil, swigged 
						straight from a new 4 ounce bottle. Only ½ inch remains 
						in the bottom of the bottle. Not much taste, nasty 
						texture! I read  that alcohol dissolves the oil, so 
						I take a small swig of wine, just enough to swish around 
						in my mouth, and indeed, the oily residue disappears. I 
						had eaten at 6:00 PM, so my stomach should have been 
						partially empty. I thought of the old saying “You can’t 
						un-ring a bell!” I know my fate is sealed; I don’t know 
						what my fate will be. At least I don’t feel immediately 
						nauseated, as others had reported, so I wish the oil 
						well as it starts its journey through my system. I have 
						a feeling that I will earn my display name tonight, big 
						time!
10:00 PM: I take my bedtime melatonin, as I often do 
						to help me sleep when I am nervous. I want to be cool 
						about this, but my heart is beating fast, and I am 
						acutely monitoring myself for any warning signs of the 
						uncertain “outcome” of my adventure. I feel a 
						combination of excitement, regret, and dread.
10:15 PM - 10:45 PM: I get everything ready that I 
						can think of. I lay out two XP Medical Absorbency Plus 
						Level4 disposable diapers; they are supposed to have a 
						usable capacity of 86 ounces. I hope that would be 
						enough! Then, I prepare my bed. I put on a vinyl-backed 
						fleece mattress pad over my regular bottom sheet, and 
						cover that with an old sheet that I sometimes use to 
						protect tender outdoor plants from frost. I place a 
						large hospital grade pad over the sheet. Next, I put 
						down some painter’s plastic next to my bed, making a 
						path from bed to bathroom. I line a plastic garbage can 
						with double layers of plastic bags, with elastic around 
						the top to be sure they would stay up.
11:00 PM: I take another few swallows of water. My 
						mouth feels dry. Is it because I am nervous? Is water 
						being drawn into my intestines? I don’t feel anything 
						yet, but it’s too early. This stuff is supposed to take 
						anywhere from 2 - 6 hours to work.
11:15 PM: I get undressed. I go to the bathroom to 
						take a leak. I get on the scale - 189.2 pounds. It’s 
						time to get serious; I don’t want to be taken by 
						surprise, as so many have reported, being betrayed by 
						what they thought was just a fart ... From now on, 
						everything that happens will happen in the diaper.
I apply a thick layer of petroleum jelly all over the 
						area to be diapered, making the layer especially thick 
						where the skin is especially thin - you know where I 
						mean. Just like a baby, I want to be protected from any 
						kind of rash; I have also heard that the petroleum jelly 
						seals the pores, and makes it much easier to remove 
						residual smells later. After all, I have to be in public 
						tomorrow afternoon!
11:30 PM: I am a rookie at this - with all my 
						planning, I forget to take some things into account. 
						What part of the diaper goes in front? These aren’t 
						marked clearly, but I figure it out. 
I had read that the wicking properties of these high 
						capacity disposables takes all the moisture away from 
						the skin and locks it away. That is the opposite of what 
						I want, so I put on an old pair of cotton briefs, worn 
						thin and full of holes - the kind of underwear only a 
						guy wouldn’t throw away. It would get soaked, and hold 
						everything I let go into the diaper against my skin. I 
						would feel wet and messy. 
Carelessly, I allow a small amount of the petroleum 
						jelly to get on the outside of the diaper; some if it is 
						still on my fingers, even though I try to wash it off. 
						The tapes won’t stick! The clock is ticking. Was that a 
						gurgle? Now what? I finally find some duct tape. It 
						doesn’t want to stick either, at least not all that 
						well, but I wrap it all the way around my waist \ and 
						overlap it; it seems secure. I am really encased, there 
						would be no quick escape if I decide to change my plans. 
						Just for an added measure of safety, I put on a pair of 
						long, high waisted plastic pants.
11:45 PM I am lying here, trying to relax, but 
						getting more nervous instead. I want to pee, but I can’t 
						let myself go. I feel things starting to move high in my 
						gut; I feel things starting to shift. How long will it 
						be? As time passes, I begin to wonder if anything will 
						really happen. For a moment, I hope it doesn’t, but then 
						I know that I would be disappointed. And deep down, I 
						know that all that castor oil is an irresistible force. 
						It really is only a matter of time.
I lie there with nothing happening; my attention 
						drifts, and I get bored. The next thing I know is that 
						it’s ...
3:00 AM: How dry I am! Nothing happened while I 
						slept. But something is beginning to churn a bit - 
						pressure starting to build, gurgles, mild cramps, a 
						feeling that the lead turd is beginning to move, and 
						that there is a lot behind it, pushing it forward. It’s 
						not at the back door yet, but I feel it getting closer. 
						It’s progress is inexorable, slow but steady. The 
						feeling is ominous.
3:15 AM: That same feeling of approaching doom, but 
						nothing has happened, and things actually feel calmer. I 
						get out of bed and walk around, massage my gut clockwise 
						to encourage movement. It’s swollen, almost distended, 
						and feeling a little tender. I start to wonder if 
						something is seriously wrong, but the slow movement, the 
						feeling of shifting fullness, continues. My body is at 
						war with my years of training, and my deep inhibitions. 
						Something within me does not want to let this happen! 
						Maybe I should take all this stuff off and just go to 
						the toilet. And yet, I want to go through with this, 
						even though I am now disappointed. All those stories of 
						castor oil hijacking people’s systems, taking away all 
						choice and and messing helplessly - it’s been almost six 
						hours, and nothing. I drift back to sleep until ...
4:20 AM: I wake up with a start, needing to go, NOW! 
						But I am still in command, and I hold it back, and the 
						urge subsides. I am lying on my stomach. But this is 
						different. Deep rumbles, gurgles, intense pressure. I 
						start to moan. I clench and squirm, and breathe as 
						though I am in labor, and I succeed again in holding it 
						back for a few moments. I am trembling and sweating with 
						the effort. But slowly, my hole loses its ability to 
						stay clamped shut. The pressure is steady, and I feel a 
						slow ooze beginning to work its way out. I still clench 
						with everything I have, but that poor muscle is tired. 
						... The steady, slow release continues and builds, 
						thirty seconds (it seems much longer), and I feel it 
						pushing past my clenched cheeks. Suddenly, my body 
						realizes that the fight is over. A massive cramp! I roll 
						on my side, knees to chin, fetal position (how 
						comforting and appropriate!).
OMG! An involuntary push, every muscle contracting, a 
						soft, sticky mass spewing out, spreading everywhere in 
						an instant. A primal grunt. I roll back & forth, ending 
						up on my stomach, as it just keeps coming and coming, 
						traveling inside the briefs, up to my back, down my 
						crack, encasing my balls in hot, sticky mush. I feel wet 
						heat flooding me from the front - without any willful 
						action on my part, my bladder just opened. I am limp. I 
						am drooling all over the pillow. I hear these unearthly, 
						guttural sounds, and barely realize they are coming from 
						me. And the flow continues, from both places, on and on.
4:30 AM: I feel a totally irrational contentment, 
						totally relaxed, totally relieved, totally safe. I drift 
						into slumber. This is what it's like to be a baby!
5:15 AM: I wake up, feeling full again; I push, and a 
						little more comes out, but there is still some 
						unfinished business. I put on a rubber glove, pick up a 
						dulcolax suppository, and work my way through a 
						tremendous volume of soft, sticky poop, find my hole, 
						and push it in. The now covered glove goes into the 
						wastebasket; my hand is still clean, and I don’t have to 
						worry about what I touch. 
This time, the reaction is swift and sure, Within a 
						few minutes, the cramps start, the rumbles begin, and I 
						just go with it. I push, and wet mush just pours out of 
						my hole, thinner this time, wave after wave. It runs 
						down my crack, and this time surrounds not only my 
						balls, but spreads across the front of the diaper, 
						encasing my entire manhood in warm, slippery goo. I get 
						hard, painfully hard, and by reflex start squirming and 
						humping the bed. I feel something starting to build. It 
						feels like it’s coming from my toes, and this feeling of 
						immense pleasure takes over my entire body, building to 
						an inevitable climax. But this is a whole new sensation. 
						I don’t speed up. I don’t tense my thighs. I don’t stop 
						breathing. I just keep moving, and the sensation grows 
						and spreads. And for the first time in my life, I relax 
						into cumming, Surging and pumping, prolonged ecstasy 
						like I have never felt, total release, a full body 
						orgasm.
I don’t remember it stopping. I don’t remember 
						falling asleep. The next thing I see is bright light, 
						and the clock: 
11:00 AM: Back to reality. My sensitive areas are 
						starting to sting just a bit, and my diaper is now 
						filled with more liquid than it can handle. I must have 
						drained more through the night. Time to clean up; thank 
						goodness for the plastic pants, and the floor 
						protection! A long shower, citrus soap; I gradually feel 
						clean. Finally, just for curiosity, to the scale: 184.6 
						pounds. Over 4 ½ pounds lighter. 
Now that it’s over, I know one thing: I’m doing this 
						again!
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