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  1. It was some time in early June at the Ship Island Camp. Campers and their parents showed up in droves, disembarking from the ferry with heavy backpacks, sleeping bags, and bedrolls. They chattered with each other as they made their way towards the gate, which was wide open and decorated with a welcoming array of balloons and streamers. Most of the campers were teens, about 16 to 18 years old. Shayla was on the older side of this spectrum, at 18 years old. She looked around for familiar faces, hoping to see someone she had met from the prior years of her attendance. The entrance had a long line, filled with campers looking to get themselves checked in and pack away their things. At the end of the line, counselors stood in groups, where campers were directed to head to their respective cabins together. Shayla diligently waited with her mother in line, sipping from her thermos of ice cold water. She eagerly awaited to be put into a cabin, ideally with one of her long-time friends. Her mother asked her "Do you have everything?" Shayla nodded, mentally going through a checklist of her items. Hairbrush, mosquito spray, pillow, sleeping bag... It seemed as though she had everything. "I think I have everything, mom.", she said. Her mom reiterated, asking again "You have all of your things?" Shayla blushed at the question, but remembered that she had packed them. "Yes, I have them." They were always referred to indirectly, in some way or another. Most often they were her simply her "things". But when more clarity was needed, they were her "night-time underwear", her "just-in-case panties", or, at most, her "pull-ups". But they were never referred to as they actually where, how Shayla really thought of them: her diapers. Shayla felt that the subtle differences between these terms were all but irrelevant: they were padded underwear that absorbed her pee. Shayla had stopped wetting her bed when she was ten years old. Or so she thought, until she mysteriously began waking up to that familiar wetness in her bedding, pajamas, and panties. And just as soon as her parents knew that these accidents weren't flukes, the plastic sheet came out of the closet. And with it came the diapers. At first she cursed at her inability to hold herself in her sleep, but eventually came to begrudgingly accept her reality. Even in her long stretches of blissful night-time dryness, Shayla had always been accident-prone. She couldn't always hold it, and she often overestimated her bladder control. She had accidents only sometimes though, and mostly just small ones that were easy enough to clean. As the line further advanced, Shayla realized that she should begin seeking out the bathroom. Nevertheless, the line advanced slowly. Eventually, she made it to the front, feeling slightly uncomfortable. Her mother resisted asking her if she needed to pee, figuring that it would be embarrassing. After checking in, Shayla walked towards the wide circle of counselors. An assistant smiled and pointed her to her cabin: "You will be in the whitewater cabin, it's over there." Shayla walked in the indicated direction, but noticed one of her friends along the way. "Hi Amanda!", she smiled and waved. "Hi Shayla, what cabin are you in?" Shayla replied "Whitewater cabin." Amanda replied "Oh, never been in that one." Shayla walked up to her own cabin, becoming more aware of her need to pee. She knew where the bathrooms where, but they were far away and she still needed to put away her stuff. Her counselor cheerily introduced herself as Shayla approached and set her stuff down. "Hello there, welcome to Whitewater Cabin! My name is Fern." She extended her hand. Shayla replied in turn by introducing herself. Fern looked around at her cabin. There were only four other girls there (usually either per cabin) and no one that Shayla personally knew. Fern gazed at her clipboard and performed a mental head count of who all was there. "OK, I think that's everyone. Are we ready to go?" Shayla thought to herself Yeah I'm ready to go. To go directly in my pants. Everyone generally seemed to agree and they prepared to embark. Shayla quickly lifted her heavy backpack, which sent a wave of desperation through her. She even lost control for a second, resulting in a few drops of pee in her panties. After regaining control, she followed the others to Whitewater Cabin. The walk was mostly in silence, as they would be expected to introduce themselves later. Shayla knew this was for the best, each step proved more difficult for the last as her bladder pleaded for release. The girls finally got to their cabin. In mechanical fashion, bedrolls were unfurled, sleeping bags were placed, and bags were stashed in their respective places. Shayla noticed that this cabin lacked the traditional, old mattresses that other cabins had. This one had new ones, with a thick plastic outside. It reminded her of her mattress at home. Shayla had been careful to hide her embarrassing secret beneath a thick block of strategically-placed underwear, socks, and shirts. Shayla always packed spare underwear with her, just in case something happened. Just in case something was about to happen. As the parents filtered out and said their goodbyes, the girls turned to each other and to Fern. "Alright everyone," Fern said, "welcome to your new home for the next two weeks." Fern looked awkwardly around. She had a cute smile, and seemed to be kind of shy. "Does anyone know why you're in this specific cabin?" Shayla had already been putting the pieces together, but Fern's question made it immediately clear: This wasn't Whitewater Cabin. This was Yellowwater Cabin. Shayla, still desperately needing to pee, crossed her legs silently as she sat on her bunk. Maybe only she knew, maybe everyone knew, but Shayla wasn't about to share her secret to four strangers. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea. Only the faint sound of Shayla's bouncing, crossed, leg could be heard. Finally, Fern broke the silence. "You're all here because your parents indicated that you might sometimes have night-time accidents." The room became even more still and silent as each camper's worst nightmare was realized. "Now, don't you girls worry about a thing. The thought behind this cabin was that you all have the same problems, and you all know how best to deal with them. You have everything you need: protected sheets, cleaning stuff, and the first shower of the day." Fern continued explaining that it's OK to have accidents sometimes The shower part sounded nice, Shayla thought, since the showers were usually cold by the time she could get to them. She thought about that warm shower, about standing in the warm water, about it flowing down her back and legs... Shayla snapped out of her daydream abruptly when she caught another small leak go into her panties. Not now she thought, as she summoned more strength to hold on. Not immediately after everyone here knows I'm a bedwetter. But it was little use. Fern was not done talking, and she didn't want to be rude. Periodically, little dribbles of pee escaped. Shayla felt lucky to be on a protected mattress. Shayla continued to listen to Fern's speech, eagerly waiting for it to end. Part of her wished she had a diaper on right now, just so she could take care of it.
  2. I’m back! It’s been a while, but I’ve finally had an accident worth sharing. But first, some backstory. Rice has always messed with my stomach sorta bad. It doesn’t hurt or anything, but maybe an hour or so after eating, my bowels always feel extra full, and I usually find myself in need of a nearby bathroom only three or four hours after eating, or even just two or so if I’d already been holding it for a while. For this reason, rice is usually a bedtime food for me. This means that I can eat it, watch some TV, and then right before bed make the terribly hard decision of whether to make it to the potty or not . This has meant that, despite it making me need to go, I can only one, maybe two accidents that happened because of it. Well, at least I used to only be able to count one accident… This morning, I had leftovers. Today, this was some stir fry from the night before. Because you can’t have a proper stir fry without it, I steamed up some fresh rice and, in just a handful of minutes, I was having a pretty nice meal. It was good enough that I didn’t think to worry about my stomach—I wasn’t even planning on going outside, after all—and I certainly didn’t think about how I hadn’t emptied my bowels since after lunch the previous day. Still, I might’ve made note of how, just a half hour later, my belly was feeling slightly bloated and gassy, if not for a sudden meeting. One meeting later, I’d pretty much forgotten about my breakfast, and I set about making lunch without giving a second thought to my slight gassiness. I’d been planning on making myself some muffins, because that’s pretty much my go-to type of food when I have time to bake something. On this particular day, I decided to set out all of my ingredients before cooking, which was quickly shown to be a good decision as I realized I was straight out of baking soda. I didn’t have much of anything to do today, and my next meeting was in a few hours, so I decided that a quick drive down to the grocery store would be fine. It’s finally warm out, so I was wearing a pretty simple lavender t-shirt and some jean shorts. I’d stayed dry and clean for the last couple weeks, so I wasn’t actually wearing a diaper (yet, at least). If I had, I might have realized exactly how obvious it would be under my tight shorts. But I’d been clean for a good while, and it was just going to be a quick drive, right? So grabbing my purse, I made my way out the door. Well, I was actually right on the latter count. It only took maybe five minutes to get over to the grocery store. However, my luck went downhill from there. I couldn’t actually find the baking soda. I took maybe five or ten minutes looking for it, before finally mustering myself enough to ask an employee for help. However, even with his help I couldn’t find it, and it became clear soon enough that they were just straight out of the baking soda. By now maybe fifteen minutes had passed. This was usually just about where the rice would start kicking in, normally. But the rice had slightly different plans. I didn’t actually feel the first real pang of needing to go until I’d already made the ten minute drive to the next closest grocery store. It wasn’t urgent at first, just the soft pressure that it’d be really nice if you could just loosen your pants a little and start looking for the bathroom. But I’d been clean for so long, and it wasn’t like I was just going to have a messy accident out of nowhere, right? I found the baking soda quickly, this time. I was still confident in my ability to hold—really, I was barely even thinking about my need. But when I kneeled down to get it off the lowest shelf, it hit me like a truck. Suddenly, my knees were shaking and I was in real danger of soiling my shorts. I needed the bathroom now. Standing, one hand fidgeting as I tried not to clutch my bum while the other held the soda, I started to half-waddle, half-run towards the bathrooms. I found them in just a moment, and at first, it seemed like a miracle had happened: despite the pandemic, they were actually open. After taking a second to reflect on how that might be a safety hazard, I threw the door open and dashed into the women’s restroom. That was where, for the second time today, my luck took a clear nosedive. All of the three stalls were full. So I waited. Leaning against the wall, fidgeting with one hand creeping ever closer to holding myself, I waited. Finally, after what seemed like eternity, the door opened, and a middle-aged woman came out. She looked slightly sheepish, and as I made my desperate way to the stall she awkwardly confessed that the toilet was actually jammed. Pretty much not hearing her, I entered the stall anyway. The toilet was, in fact, jammed. It was very, very full as well, and it was clear pretty quickly that I wouldn’t have been able to use it even if I was willing to make even more work for some maintenance person later. I was halfway panicking, trying to find a way to make this work in a way that let me check out and buy the soda before the inevitable happened. Maybe ten seconds—and one highly risky fart—later, I finally checked my purse. There it was: a reminder of my general toilet problems, but also, right now, my salvation. A pullup, and a handful of boosters. Throwing my shorts and panties down, I shakily slid the pullup up my bare legs. It was taking all of my concentration not to mess right there, and so it was with less-than-steady hands that I shoved not one but two boosters down the front and back of my pullup before pulling my pants back up. Even a pullup sticks out under tight jean-shorts, and with the two extra boosters I was sure that anyone who knew anything about diapers would tell what I was doing in just a glance. Waddling slightly, I made it out of the bathroom. I made it to the checkout. I even made it through the checkout, before finally my bowels gave way. I leaned up against one of the doors and, trying to look casual, closed my eyes and scrunched my face up as I felt something warm and mushy begin to fill the back of my diaper. It only took a second, but by the time I opened my eyes again I could feel the damage. I could feel how my pullup had sagged and then, constrained by the tight shorts, smushed my load back against me. I could smell just how bad of a mess it was. And as I shifted my weight side to side, judging how quickly I could powerwalk to the car, I could sense that I still needed to go just a little bit more. Keeping myself from trying to hide my face behind the container of baking soda, I squished my way over to the car. Throwing open the door and quickly tossing my bag and the soda in the back, I realized another problem. My diaper was full. It was just a pullup, and pads really don’t help with a mess all that well. So if I sat down in my car—worse, if I hit a bump in my car—I couldn’t be sure it wouldn’t leak. I stood there, trying to figure out what to do, when my body gave the signal to release for the second time today. I didn’t need to go nearly as bad this time, really. I’d mostly emptied myself the first time, but here was the urge again, and this time I couldn’t bring myself to even bring up a weak resistance to it. I squatted down, turning enough to brace myself against my car, and pushed, just wanting to get everything out of me. This time my full diaper provided resistance, but I pushed again, harder, and finally the crackling, squishing sound of a good messing was all I could hear. I panicked again. What if someone heard me? Saw me? Smelled me? I hopped up, shorts resisting the motion and pressing harder against the pullup, and half-jumped, half-tripped into the car. There was a distinct squelching noise as my warm, messy pullup once again protested against the tight shorts, but as I pulled out of the parking lot I was pretty sure I hadn’t leaked. The ride home didn’t take too long. Just fifteen or so minutes later, I’d made it back to my apartment and, after fumbling the keys, managed to let myself in. Feeling my diaper squish dangerously, I carefully undid the zipper and pried my shorts off. A brown smudge near the bottom of one marked a slight leak, but nothing major had gotten out. Finally, I could relax and calm down. That was right about when my neglected, forgotten bladder decided that it didn’t need or want to hold for a moment longer. There was a hissing noise. I looked down at my pullup and, after a moment of shock, scrambled for the bathroom. The extra pads seemed to do nothing, and as I made my way through the door I felt wetness on my leg. I slid into the shower just as the same seal that had leaked with my mess gave out once more, and as I leaned against the wall I heard the pitter-platter of a puddle forming beneath me. I let myself fully relax, drooping against the wall and eventually sitting in my puddle, pullup squishing against my bum. I sat there for maybe ten minutes, feeling the warm diaper between my legs, before finally getting myself all cleaned off. And so here I am, some six hours later in a clean diaper and a spare shirt, writing out how I lost my few week long clean and dry streak by filling my pullup at the grocery store. I hope you all enjoyed this writeup as much as I enjoyed experiencing it!
  3. Well this came up on another thread and I realized that I didn't recall seeing a thread dedicated to sharing adult diaper ads. There have been some great ones recently, and some pretty good historic ones as well, so please share any adult diaper ads you may find here. NOTE: This is not for baby diaper ads and let's keep any bedwetting pullup ads out of the thread as well please. Here are some from another thread to get us started: Start with a tear jerker! Tena Silhouette Tena Discreet: Tena pants: Pads Black pullups: More black pullups: PAds: Spanish Tena: Interviews:
  4. https://es.pornhub.com/view_video.php?viewkey=ph6251814554a36 So yeah, not into nuns, but if you are, this could be for you... Enjoy, Rach
  5. 892 downloads

    Following up on the Twitter content thread, I spent a little time and downloaded all of the videos of the last 25 Twitter accounts that were posted there. I thought I'd upload these by user. Videos are provided individually and in a Zip file for ease of downloading. You can see previews of all of the content there. I did not sort them by type, only user, so for each user there are an odd assortment of peeing, desperation, wetting, and diaper/pullup videos. Also, there may be some repeats in there, I was often not sure if a video was a different take or my download program grabbed two of different quality, but if you are complaining about too many videos, you are in the wrong place. Finally, because these are from Twitter, some are of poor quality and very short. Some are also longer than you'd expect and quite good. So it's a bit of a random grab bag! Enjoy and Happy New Year! Rachel
    Free
  6. 1,256 downloads

    Fresh JAV release with lots of hot diaper content! Enjoy, Rach
    Free
  7. View File JAV - ACZD-020 - Diaper and Pullup JAV Fresh JAV release with lots of hot diaper content! Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 02/22/2022 Category JAV Collections  
  8. Alright, I shared this one on the discord, so it’s only fair I post it here too. So, I don't live super far from where my work is (or was, since it's all remote right now). This means that, in theory, I can save some time in the morning by waking up, shoveling down breakfast, rushing a shower, and then just zooming there, and I'm not at too much risk of needing to go to the bathroom on the way there. However, I am dumb and have a very small bladder and bowels, so this particular time things didn't go to plan. I was experimenting with drinking coffee, which I usually don't do, and which I gave up on again after this. So that morning I got up, ate a muffin and slammed back a cup of coffee, then did a quick shower and just dashed out the door. Things were going pretty well; I was well ahead of schedule. And then I hit traffic. And then the coffee hit my bowels. So I was sitting in traffic at a place where there usually isn't real traffic, feeling my tummy burbling, and farting just slightly too often for comfort. Finally, the traffic let up, and I almost made it to work before my bowels finally gave out. Luckily, when I worked in person, I pretty regularly wore a pullup. Unluckily, I wore a pullup, so after that first second of relief as I felt warm mush fill my diaper, I started to get worried. I could feel my bladder leaking too, and I was getting really worried about leaks as I pulled into the parking lot and felt a second wave of messing begin. I parked and sat in my car for a minute, my pullup pressing hard against the back of my pants and the hissing sound of my bladder releasing in fits and starts filling the quiet space. Finally, I forced myself to get up and get moving. I gingerly stepped out of the car and, slightly waddling, made it into the office and all the way to a private bathroom without being challenged. This was a good thing, because when I got there and looked down, I saw that my pullup had leaked, leaving dark stains down my grey pants. It was… not great. Luckily, I always used to carry an extra skirt and pullup in my purse, so I was able to quickly get myself cleaned up, bag the dirty pullup and pants, and walk back out like nothing had ever happened. And this is one of the several reasons that I never drink coffee.
  9. View File A collection of wetting, peeing, and diaper clips A collection of clips from the same producer. As the title implies, there's a mix of a few things in here. Something for everyone. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 12/18/2021 Category Female  
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