60yr old male, incontinent, trying to find happiness in my situation. DL not AB Nor am i looking for mommies, mummies, nannies, babysitters, daddies, doms, fem doms, mistresses,or any other paid services.
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Fun Fact
The “We are the 99%” Tumblr blog became the slogan for the Occupy Wall Street movement.
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Three besties in a trestie 💦
@littlestkittenxx & @liddlestflora
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The diaper stops the cane hurting too much
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Oooh yummy, absolutely delicious 😋 😍 😜
Lovely retro pic of Heidi in a fluffy nappy
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Lovely retro pic of Heidi in a fluffy nappy
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“Turning Point”
Jack was a typical 19-year-old in some ways. Living with his mom in a quiet suburban neighborhood, he had big dreams once—dreams of finishing college, finding a good job, and making his mom proud. But those dreams had slowly eroded as he fell into bad habits. Skipping college turned into a daily ritual. Instead of attending lectures, he’d spend hours at the local pub, drinking with people who cared little about their futures. His room reflected his life: chaotic, cluttered with dirty clothes, empty takeaway containers, and the faint, stale smell of neglect.
His mom, Laura, a single parent who had worked tirelessly to ensure Jack had a stable upbringing, was reaching the end of her rope. Calls from his college had started coming weeks ago, the first ones gentle reminders, then warnings, and now outright ultimatums. She wanted to believe him when he assured her he was still attending, but doubt lingered.
One particularly warm summer evening, Jack stumbled into the house, his breath reeking of alcohol, and mumbled something incoherent as he kicked off his shoes. Laura was sitting at the kitchen table, staring at the phone in her hand. The college had called again that afternoon. This time, they’d made it clear: if Jack didn’t change his behavior by the end of summer break, he’d be expelled.
“Hey, Mom,” he slurred, wobbling slightly as he tried to appear normal. “How was your day?”
Laura looked up at him, her face a mix of disappointment and simmering anger. “How was college today, Jack?”
Jack, already mentally rehearsed for this question, answered, “It was fine. Just lectures and stuff, you know.”
That was the last straw. Laura stood up, her chair scraping the floor loudly. “Enough, Jack. Go upstairs. Now.”
“Mom, what—”
“Upstairs!” she barked, pointing toward his bedroom.
Jack had never seen her this angry before. Silently, he trudged up the stairs, his heart pounding. She followed closely behind, slamming the door shut as they entered his room. Her eyes darted around, taking in the chaos.
“Look at this!” she said, gesturing wildly. “Dirty clothes everywhere, the stench of God-knows-what… And you expect me to believe you’ve been going to college? You’ve been lying to me for months!”
“Mom, it’s not like that—”
“Don’t lie to me again, Jack. The college called today. They told me everything. They told me you haven’t been attending, and now you’re at risk of being expelled! I’ve had enough of your lies, your drinking, your utter lack of responsibility.”
Jack tried to stammer out an excuse, but Laura cut him off. “If you want to act like a child, then I’ll treat you like one.”
He blinked, confused. “What… What does that mean?”
“You’ll see,” she said, her voice cold. “Get undressed.”
“What?” Jack’s face turned crimson. “Mom, you can’t be serious.”
“Don’t make me ask again,” she said sharply. There was a fire in her eyes that made it clear she wasn’t bluffing.
Reluctantly, Jack began to undress, his face burning with embarrassment. He stopped at his underwear, standing awkwardly as Laura surveyed him. “All of it,” she said.
“Mom, please—”
“All of it, Jack,” she repeated.
Slowly, he slid his boxers down, trying to cover himself with his hands. Laura grabbed a towel from the corner of the room and pushed him gently onto the bed. Before he could protest, she laid the towel under him and began folding it in an unfamiliar way. Jack’s heart raced as he realized what was happening.
“No… Mom, don’t do this,” he whispered, his voice trembling.
Ignoring him, she pulled the towel tightly between his legs and began fastening it. The thick fabric enveloped him, making it impossible to close his legs. “Lift your hips,” she ordered, and he obeyed, too stunned to resist. She slid a pair of plastic pants up his legs, the elastic snapping snugly around his thighs.
“Stand up,” she commanded.
Jack stood, feeling the unfamiliar bulk between his legs. He looked down at himself in disbelief—the thick terry cloth nappy beneath translucent plastic pants. His face burned with shame as he whispered, “Mom… please, I can’t… I need to use the toilet.”
Laura crossed her arms and gave him a cold smile. “You’re wearing your toilet now. Until you prove you can act your age, this is how things are going to be.”
Jack’s knees felt weak as he tried to process what had just happened. The crinkle of the plastic pants filled the silent room as he shifted uncomfortably. His mom pointed to the bed. “Now clean up this room. Maybe some responsibility will remind you what it means to grow up.”
And with that, she walked out, leaving Jack standing there, dumbstruck, wondering how he had let things spiral so far out of control.
With that his bladder gave way as the thick thirsty nappy did its job he could only stand and look as he felt his plastic pants as the warmth spread.
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