Search the Community

View File Recent Tumblr Diaper Clips Title says it all, found these recently. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 10/04/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

Wet the Bed Friday night, my husband and I decided that we would go out with some friends for drinks after work. So we met up with them at a lovely trendy craft beer place, and ordered flight after flight of tasters. I ended up trying a ton of different beers – some good, some clearly trying too hard, but that’s how it goes with craft beer. I was still in my work clothes (in this case a black pencil skirt, cotton panties, and a purple blouse) and was getting pretty sloppy. For those of you who will know me, I’ve got a tendency to be a slightly sloppy drunk. Well, we were 4 (or maybe 5) flights in, and my hubby wrapped things up and called us a cab (an hour long Skytrain ride would have resulted in me getting up to some bad behaviour on the train, I’m sure, or having a public accident. My husband is well aware of my sloppy drunken tendencies, and often takes care of me in these situations, making sure I don’t have more, and helping me get ready for bed (which if I’ve been drinking means getting me into a diaper). Well tonight, he was about as drunk as I was, it was a long week for him and he was helping to finish off the stronger beers, and some of those craft beers are pretty strong (one particular imperial IPA comes to mind... sort of). Anyhow, he had it together to get us a cab and home, but once we were home, we were both pretty wired, so we ended up making a couple of gin and tonics, and watching Netflix on the couch. At some god awful hour, we decided to head to be, though I have only vague recollections of this. Before this fateful time, we decided to have another gin and tonic, and my hubby, being British, made them strong. I don’t know what being British has to do with it, but he insists it’s some sort of national thing, particularly after a couple. We went to bed and I remember stripping naked, and possibly mumbling something like “Hun, I’m a bedwetting risk tonight, I should probably wear something.” And him brushing it off or I’m not sure what. Anyhow, I just crawled into bed and was out like a light. Not only did I not put on a diaper, but I also didn’t even go to the bathroom before crashing. I remember waking up, and feeling completely soaked, both the bedding underneath me, and my thighs and sex. I felt about and my inner thighs were very wet, like I had woken up while still peeing or having just finished. I still felt like I needed to pee urgently, and I remember staggering up, dripping everywhere, and peeing in the washroom. Slightly drunken and sleepy Rachel came back from the bathroom with a towel, and I put this down to lie on, and I went back to sleep. I don’t know how long I was out for, but I woke up some time later feeling wet again, either the pee from the bed had soaked through the towel, or, which was much more likely, I had wet the bed again. I was feeling sticky, and hot, and wet, and not a little surprised, as usually I sleep through these sorts of things and just wake up in the morning in a puddle. I should point out that on both of these occasions, my husband just lay next to me, snoring, oblivious. Also, on neither occasion had my wet spot reached him, or so it seemed. Anyhow, my bladder was empty, and I was sober. Mostly. I just wanted to get some sleep, but didn’t want a hangover and didn’t want to lay in a puddle. So I got up, had two moderate-sized glass of water, and put down my Peepod mat, something I should have done initially, and slid a Goodnite up my sticky legs. I then crashed out and slept the rest of the night. We ended up sleeping in to about 11 am, which was lovely, though every time my husband tried to cuddle, I kept him away, worried he’d roll into my puddle. When I say we slept in to 11am, I should note that I woke up again at about 9 am and found my Goodnite wet and my legs still sticky and uncomfortable. I opted to just leave it on, and roll over, already a mess. When we finally did get up, my husband was almost oblivious to the fact that I’d had a major bedwetting accident beside him. Even after I said that I was going to do the laundry apologetically, he didn’t clue in. It was only after he had woken up a little, rolled over and felt me on the dry, Peepod pad, that he remembered that my wetting the bed might have been a worry, and then he only realized that the Peepod was concealing a large puddle, after I told him apologetically. I got up and stripped the bed, still wearing my wet Goodnite. I enjoyed the feeling of shame that is associated with stripping a wet bed in the morning, magnified by my being in a wet Goodnite. It was only after all the wet sheets, the towel, the Peepod pad and the ‘waterproof’ mattress cover were stripped did I realize that the mattress cover had failed to do its job and that the mattress was wet. As you can see from these pictures I snapped during the process, this was certainly not the first time that I have wet our bed, and that when my bedwetting issues cropped up again, that we had trouble finding a good mattress cover. Anyhow, still wearing nothing but a wet Goodnite, I made my way to the bathroom to shower. My legs were sticky with sweat (as it had been a hot night), and pee (as I’d wet the bed three times). The good news was that the water seemed to have helped and I was not hung over. Or at least not all that much. I showered off, had some breakfast and tea. Thinking about the evening, my feelings of shame waking up in the morning, and all the complicated emotions that I have around bedwetting made me very aroused and I will admit to bringing myself to orgasm while ridding my hung-over husband, who needed some coaxing, given his hangover. I’ve not wet the bed unintentionally in a while, I thought I’d share. Rach

View File [MALE] Pullups wetting and leaking whilst texting in PJs Woke up, went down to the living room (still in my pyjamas), started texting and then THIS happened. Oops Submitter padsndiapers Submitted 08/15/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

View File Random Diaper and Pullup Finds Some more random diaper-related content I've found recently. Enjoy! And don't wank too hard this weekend! Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 08/16/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

View File Recent Diaper and Pullup Shorts Mostly collected from Tumblr, some from other places. All very cute, all mostly shorter. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 08/05/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

View File Assorted Diaper and Ageplay Videos I've been holding onto these for a while. This collection has been assembled from a number of various sources, and there's a mixed bag of Tumblr shorts, blow jobs in diapers, clips from PH. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 07/19/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

View File Random Recent Diaper and Pullup Finds I've been holding onto these for a little while. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 06/17/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

View File Diaper and Pullup Grab Bag! I've been holding onto these for a while, most are from Tumblr, others from elsewhere, some of them may be repeats as a couple of you perverts have stumbled across some of these recently. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 05/07/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

After a lot of drinking today I got desperate again a couple hours after the sweats vid. Thought perhaps I'd try overwhelming a pullup Trim_20190320_202246.mp4

View File Recent Diaper and Pullup Video Discoveries I've stumbled across these recently and wanted to share. Sources are mostly Tumblr and Pornhub (the Japanese page which has different stuff!). Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 03/17/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

Trying again. Something a little different. Hope y'all enjoy. VID_20190313_181937.mp4 Consumer info: While these work nights. I'd never wear them for daytime accidents.

Well, it’s been a while since I’ve shared an experience, and also, I wanted to share something pretty special, as I noticed I was getting very close to my 8000th post! This is quite a milestone and well, I hope you will all celebrate with me, by sharing more sexy wetting content and if you are interested, buying a pair of my dirty panties! I’m going to do a couple of posts and a video dump to celebrate, so here is my experience. I’ve had a couple of very hard months at work; a bunch of volunteers left and I’ve been scrambling to fill their roles. As such, I’ve been pretty busy and haven’t had much time for fun kinky stuff. Don’t get me wrong, I’ve still had some sexy times with the hubby, and certainly watched some porn and masturbated with toys and all that, but I haven’t had a chance to do elaborate or public. Well, the other day I finally had some time off, and decided to go shopping at MetroTown. This is a big mall complex not too far from our place. I also decided to have a little bit of desperation fun while I was doing it, or rather, I kind of decided to have some desperation fun mid-way through running errands. Here’s what happened. It’s been getting chillier here, so I’ve started wearing trousers a lot more. But this day, it was bright and sunny out, which offered the perfect, and perhaps the last, opportunity to wear a nice skirt (without leggings). After lounging around the flat for a while and doing some house work, I decided to head out and deal with the growing list of small errands. I pulled on a cute dark grey pleated skirt,, the white cotton panties I’d been wearing under my PJs all morning. I buttoned up a lavender blouse, threw on a cardigan, and picked up a larger backpack to accommodate my shopping. I pulled my wallet out of my purse, grabbed a couple of items that were piled up by the door, threw in a couple of cloth shopping bags, and wandered off to the Skytrain to hop down to MetroTown. It was about 11 am by the time I arrived at the mall (it’s huge by the way), and I headed off to the washroom, as I’d forgotten to go before leaving my flat. I used the one nearest the Skytrain, which I always find the yuckiest, but it was close, and I kind of had to go. Hovering over the toilet, I noticed that my panties were already a little dirty/sticky from the trip over and the mornings activities. I love how white cotton shows every little stain. I then headed up to the second level to return a sports bra to the sporting goods store. My sister had bought it for me and well, she wasn’t aware that my breasts have grown since going on birth control (a long time ago), and she still apparently bought me a bra using my size from like more than a decade ago. I wasn’t impressed with their sports bras, and so I wandered around the mall, visiting a couple of shops until I found something really comfy and supportive from Lululemon. This took more than an hour, and so rather than getting into some serious shopping, I headed off to Blenz coffee on the main floor. I grabbed a big matcha late, and sat down, drinking the whole thing and watching people bustling by. Sometimes it’s fun to just sit and watch the world go by, and it certainly is when doing so is a luxury. During this time, my mind wandered, and I had a few naughty thoughts. Completely filled up on green tea, I headed out once more. I probably should have planned out my trip a little better, as I ended up wandering all over the mall, grabbing items off my list and doing a little browsing. Half an hour after leaving the coffee shop, I could feel myself filling up. I could have easily ducked into one of the many washrooms around the mall, but I was starting to feel a little naughty. I was at about a 6 on the desperation scale, the point where I would normally always head straight to the washroom, but decided to have a little bit of public desperation fun. It sort of flowed on from the things I had been contemplating at the coffee shop. I didn’t have a concrete plan, but I did feel like getting up to some naughty mischief. Maybe just some desperation perhaps? I continued browsing through some shops and felt myself getting increasingly desperate. I headed into Chapters and looked through some of the new arrivals and non-fictions sections. By the time I was checking out the always poorly populated philosophy section, I was at a 7. I played up my desperation, allowing myself to display my need to pee in subtle, mildly exhibitionistic ways. A little foot jiggle here, tightly crossed legs when I paused to look at a book, that sort of thing. To the keen observer, I would have likely appeared to be an antsy book browser. The problem is of course that browsing for books is certainly the kind of thing that you can just stop doing and use the washroom, so I decided to get back onto my pre-schedule list of errands. I headed over to T&T, the huge Asian food supermarket, and began filling a basket with items off my list. Having an almost-full basket of things is a great reason not to use the toilet. I worked my way methodically through the store, my desperation mounting to a solid 8 by the time I reached the tea section. I was playing up my desperation beyond an 8 though, for effect, and because of the little thrill of excitement that I got from knowing that other people around me in the shop could see that I had to pee. My actions were less subtle at this point, given my mounting real desperation. I was not at the point of holding myself, but I would twist my legs together whenever I stopped to look for something, and this was often followed by dancing on the spot. I spotted the sidelong glances of other patrons around me when I jiggle about. My basket was mostly full and I only had a couple more items to purchase by the time I made it to the noodle isle. I was still at a solid 8 on the desperation scale, but acting like I was a 9.5. I put down my basket, crossed my legs, and did slip my hand firmly between my thighs as I pondered the noodle selection. There are so many options and the packaging is always confusing (and it’s typically not in English, so you really have to look at the ingredients if you are looking for something specific. I found a couple that I was looking for, and put them, one-handed, into my basket, all the while holding myself firmly. A younger Asian man came around the corner as I was depositing the final pack of noodles into my basket, curtsey-style, so as not to put too much pressure on my bladder, or flash my panties at anyone. As soon as I saw him I whipped my hand out from between my legs, though I could tell from his look that he had noticed. I quickly retrieved my basket and hurried off, flushing a little and too embarrassed to look back to see if he was watching me. I still had a couple of items on the list, but my feigned extreme desperation was kind of getting to my head (and bladder), and I was at that ‘find a bathroom now!’ stage of desperation. I went to get the final item on my list – dumpling wrappers in case you care – before heading to the checkout. There was of course a line, though not a very long one and I wiggled and crossed my legs with increasingly real desperation (about an 8.5) as I waited for the two people ahead of me to check out. After the first person wrapped up, which seemed like it took far too long, I was able to unload my basket on to the little conveyor belt. This done, I could hold the empty basket in one hand in front of my crotch, to cover up the fact that my second hand had snaked its way between my thighs and was once again pressing the thick fabric of my skirt into my vagina. The additional pressure didn’t seem to help too much, and I was still very rapidly wiggling my thighs and legs. While I tried not to make eye contact with the people around me, I was acutely aware of their looks. My heart rate increased and I had those sexy and fluttery little butterfly feelings that I love and hate so much about embarrassing public situations. The person in front of me was a middle-aged woman, and she had a full shopping cart. I had noticed her giving me a sympathetic look when she began unloading her cart a little while ago. I think out of solidarity with me and my obvious desperate plight, she hurried along her interaction. The checkout person was a teen or university student, and she also gave me a sympathetic look. This made me blush even more and look away, concentrating on carefully arranging my items on the conveyor belt to maximize how fast I could load my backpack. I did not notice the two other people who had lined up behind me, only that they were there, boxing me in, preventing my dashing off and simply abandoning my groceries. As the woman ahead of me fumbled in her purse for her credit card, I switched from holding myself (which was really not as discreet as I had thought), to using both hands to prep my backpack and doing a little pee pee dance. I was so caught up with my own predicament – no longer feigned – that I didn’t notice the man behind me asking for a little grocery divider, and instead, the checkout girl had to give him one. I noticed too late and in classic Canadian style apologized, mumbling something like, ‘ah sorry.’ He said ‘no worries’ and went about pretending to ignore the fact that I was wiggling about in front of him in the checkout line, desperate to pee. The woman ahead of me finally completed her transaction and headed on her way, with one last sympathetic look over her shoulder at me. I reached the checkout girl. I had already removed my wallet from my backpack to speed up the interaction. “Hello, how is your day going?” I asked in a meek kind of voice. “Not bad, thanks.” She replied curtly, and began rapidly scanning my items. I prayed that nothing would need a price check or any such complication. “How about yours?” She responded. “Oh not so bad…” I replied vaguely. “Did you find everything you needed?” She inquired. I nodded, not wanting to have to concentrate on a conversation, and my mounting desperation. I let her get on with her job, not wanting to slow her down for any reason. “These ones are one sale if you wanted a second one half off.” She observed at one point, holding up a package of noodles. I must have not noticed when I was picking them out, or forgotten to pick up a second pack, which was understandable, given my predicament. “Oh, that’s ok.” I added quickly. I began packing the scanned items into my backpack as quickly as possible. She scanned the final items, and at this point, I transitioned from almost comical pee pee dance, to crossed legs. It had been over an hour since I downed the very large green tea and I had reached a real 9 on the desperation scale. I hadn’t quite planned this out. Usually when I plan to get up to some desperation, pee, or diaper fun in public, I plan things out, but today was more spontaneous, and I was reaching a point of real and serious desperation. The kind of point where you are in real risk of a very public accident. I don’t have the kind of bladder which allows me to let out little leaks to relieve the pressure. I have been practicing, and can sometimes let out a little if I really concentrate and also if I’m absolutely desperate. These little leaks do sometimes happen without my control, but are very often followed by a rather longer release of pee. I really didn’t want that to here in the narrow checkout isle of the T&T Supermarket in front of a group of strangers. The thought of it made my heart race, and my pulse quicken, but also terrified me. Maybe I did want to have a little accident? I mused a little, about the possibility of relaxing, just a little bit, to let out a drop into my panties. I immediately decided against it, as I didn’t want to make a mess and involve the people around me. I clenched down with my PC muscles, removed the hand which was once again pressed between my legs (I had not even been conscious of having done so), and packed the last few items into my bag. “Debit please.” I said, anticipating her question, and she punched a bunch of buttons on the till. She indicated that I could use the machine and I punched in my pin. “Would you like a receipt?” She inquired. “Yes please.” I muttered, replacing my debit card into my wallet and stuffing it into my mostly full backpack. The machine seemed to take forever to print. She tore receipt from the machine and handed it to me. “Just outside the doors in the parking lot, turn left, and then take another left.” She said, cryptically. I hastily put my backpack on, while still doing a pee pee dance, with as much discretion as I could muster. “Huh?” I inquired, not sure what she was talking about, though it should have been obvious. “If you need a washroom, they are just around the corner from the exit.” She clarified. I immediately felt my face flush with warmth. “Oh.” I replied, dumbly. “Thank you.” I had clearly been quite obvious. The fact that a stranger had pointed me in the direction of the washrooms without my having to ask was acutely embarrassing, though I had of course been asking for this kind of treatment. Still lacking decorum, I decided to make a dash for the toilets. Now I can usually make it to the washroom with a bladder at a ‘comfortable’ 9, I have in the past. The trick is to be close to the washroom and to not run or jostle too much. I knew where the washroom was and I could probably make it at a good walking speed. However, still play acting just a little, I rushed out of the exit. The parking lot outside of the exit was busy, with shoppers milling about, cars driving past, and people randomly standing about checking their phones. I zigged and zagged between them at a brisk pace, but still not a jog. I found the main hallway and took a left and there was the sign and hallway leading to the washrooms. It was then when my slightly foggy, desperation confused, brain made a naughty decision; Rather than continuing my brisk pace and hurrying into the washroom, I decided to make a sprint for it. I gripped the straps of my backpack with both hands and took off at a good pace down the hallway towards the washrooms. This was of course a bad idea, if I was hoping to keep my panties dry. While I’m not very good at intentionally letting out little leaks when I’m desperate (and instead tend to just lose control as I mentioned), I am particularly known for leaking when working out. The increased pressure from my running footfalls jostled my bladder, and I could feel a little leak with each running step as I approached the ladies room. Coming around the corner of the entrance of the washroom, I almost collided with a middle-aged woman, and I was forced to slow my pace. Bearing down hard on my PC muscles, to stop the leaking. I hoped that I could find a free stall. Fortunately, Metrotown has well-provisioned washrooms, so that when I entered the relatively crowded washroom, I was quickly able to locate an empty stall. Down at the end, it was sitting with its door ajar. Now, safely inside the washroom, I slowed my pace, weary of slipping on the wet floor, or bumping into one of the many women dotted along the long line of sinks to my side. No longer running, I quickly let go of my backpack strap with my right hand, and, reaching up under my skirt so as not to press is fabric into my damp panties, I held myself tightly. I was largely oblivious to the fact that I was holding myself in a very undignified fashion, and in such a way as to reveal a flash of white cotton to the other women in the washroom. My face burned with warmth as a hastily walked past various women at the sink. Out of the corner of my eye I could see one of them turn to stare at me as she caught my reflection in the mirror. Finally, heart pounding, I reached the empty stall, hand still pressed firmly between my very public, and very wet panties. I pushed the door close, and fumbled with the lock with my left hand. I felt a jet of warmth strike the hand between my legs. I gave up on the lock, removed my wet hand, and used it to yank down my panties, all the while stepping back and spreading my legs. My wet panties were stretched between my thighs as I sort of squatted over the toilet (my backpack and discomfort with sitting on unwiped public toilets preventing me from sitting down). My panties were barely at my thighs when my body released, splashing furiously into the toilet with a loud hiss. As the pressure subsided, I angled my legs more, to prevent splashing and stop the little dribble I felt running down one leg. I peed for a good minute, and possibly a little longer. This is the maximum duration of a Rachel bladder, and I was awash with a wave of relief once I reached the dribbling conclusion of my pee. It took several wadded up balls of toilet paper to dry my sex, legs, and the toilet seat. My panties were another matter. They were rather wet, and I used even more toilet paper to dab them. All the while I had been peeing, I was paranoid that someone would burst in on me, and see my drenched panties spread between my thighs. I was lucky, I suppose, having chosen a stall further from the entrance. As soon as I had stopped peeing, I latched to door, to give me added privacy as I dried myself off. I was careful to inspect my skirt, which had avoided getting wet, which was great, given the embarrassing and revealing steps I’d taken to keep it that way. There may have been a couple of little damp spots on the inside, but the fabric of this particular skirt is pretty thick. Now, as most of you will know by now, I have long carried a spare pair of panties in my purse. This is a habit that comes from long experience with my bladder, its foibles, and also my sometimes intentional wet fun times. While I dried myself off, I came to the realization that I did not have my purse, but rather, I had removed my wallet from my purse before leaving home, and had instead brought a backpack. While the backpack is a large one, capable of holding all of my groceries, it is not as well provisioned as my purse – it lacks a spare pair of panties, pads, makeup and the usually stuff that accumulates in ones purse. I thought about my options. I had largely completed my important errands (I only had to pick up some stamps), and so I could head directly home in my very wet panties, enjoying the cold wetness of them against my skin, and possibly leaving a little wet patch on the seat of the Skytrain. But it was a long walk home, and I still wasn’t quite done with other optional errands (for example, popping over to the library and doing some more window shopping). I wasn’t quite ready to go home, but I was not up for wandering about the mall and area in rather wet panties. I could of course remove my panties and go ‘comando’ but this was not a very good idea. While I’m known for my mild exhibitionism, and get very excited at the prospect of playing up my desperation for a couple of strangers, or flashing my panties at a washroom full of other women (or some of my other adventures), wearing a relatively short skirt without panties is a little too much for me. I would have to navigate the very steep, upskirt inducing, stairs at the Skytrain station, as well as escalators and open areas in Metrotown, where people beneath me could spy my shaved girl parts. I decided that I had been a bad girl, and as such, I would have to wear my wet panties a little longer, but that I would need some other stopgap to get me home. I wadded up a little toilet paper, making a small pad, and pressed this between my legs before hiking up my wet panties once more. The paper would keep my skin dry for a little while, and also reminded me of previous accidents when I was younger, and some of the steps I’d taken after these. My heart was still pounding when I flushed and headed out of the stall to wash my hands. I didn’t recognize any of the women at the sinks from when I had dashed in, not that I would have likely been able to. I dried my hands and headed out, acutely aware of the dampness of the edges of the gusset of my panties, touching my inner thighs, despite the wad of toilet paper. I had a couple of options, and mulled them over in my head. I could go and buy some new panties, I always love new panties, and the packs of cotton girl’s panties that I wear are not that expensive. I was certainly not going to buy something fancy from La Senza or La Vie En Rose, girls who wet their panties are clearly not ready for big girl lingerie. Given my cheap taste for cute cotton little girls panties, I headed all the way across the mall to Walmart. Rather than going straight for the girls isle, I opted to wander about a little. As I have often done, I found myself wandering down the diaper isle, ogling the packages. I’m sure any diaper lovers out there have done the same. Like a moth to the flame, I hovered about the isle, looking for new arrivals, and seeing what I could find. I stared at the packaging of the Goodnites (no change there) still my favorite go to diaper (so cute, so nostalgic), and then worked my way along to the Pull-ups. Now I’ve not worn Pull-ups for many years, and I’m almost certain they don’t fit all that well. I do, after all, wear the L/XL sized Goodnites, and despite these fitting well, I have my doubts about going down to the 4t-5t sized Pull-ups. But right then and there, I decided to try. So I mulled over my options, looking at the feel and learn, night time, and other options available. I finally, after some serious mulling over, decided to pick an adorable pair of regular girls Pull-ups with learning designs, of the largest size I could find. I was excited at the prospect, and even if they didn’t fit all that well, I could still enjoy the stickers that they promised to have inside. I carried these to the checkout as my single item, and paid. I’m at the age where I could have legitimately been buying Pull-ups for my kid, and as I’ve bought Goodnites on many occasions in person, I didn’t get that excited rush that sometimes accompanies buying incontinence products in public. No one knew that I was buying these pull-ups because I’d had an accident, but I knew, and this gave me a naughty little secret which did get my heart pounding just a little bit harder. I got a bag for my item, and headed out, making my way straight for the washrooms. They were easy to find and I didn’t need any help. This time, I headed to the family washroom, and found it open. Feeling a little sneaky, being bereft of a family, I smuggled my way inside, and locked the door. The first thing that I did was open the pack of Pull-ups and give it a big smell, appreciating the new diaper scent. I had pulled out one with a lady doctor character on them. I appreciated them from various angles, taking in the ‘learning designs’ and colours. I also felt them and they felt considerably thinner than Goodnites, which I suppose makes sense, given that these are supposed to be training pants, and not designed to take a full night time bladder’s worth. I did worry that they would leak if I released a very full bladder into them, my Goodnites do this when I wear them (usually when I’m laying down). I pulled down my panties and removed the toilet paper, which was damp. I then pulled down the changing table and finally remembered to take a couple of photos for your perverts. I set up a little still life with wet panties and shameful pull-ups. I then patted myself dry, again, with some toilet paper, as I had become a little damp in the intervening shopping time – both from my panties, and from my natural juices due to all the excitement. I pre-stretched the Pull-ups, a technique I’ve used on smaller pull-ups before, and then slowly shimmied them up my hips. They fit surprisingly well, but were still tight. I gave my legs a couple of practice steps to test out whether or not the sides would hold, and they seemed to do their job. I supposed that they would hold, as long as I didn’t like do any squat thrusts, or similar moves. I did worry for a second that if they didn’t fit, they could tear and fall down while I was wearing them! Or one side would tear, and I would face the awkward situation of a diaper hanging half-attached, under a rather short skirt. I then pondered my options once more. I could pull my panties over the Pull-up, keeping it in place, like a pad. This would work, but also I’d still get the wet clammy feeling of wet panty gusset against my legs. The whole point of the Pull-ups was to wear something dry (and also protective, after all, I’d had am embarrassing bathroom accident in my big girl panties, I told myself, excited by the inner dialogue). The other option was just to risk it, and avoid hip-spreading activities, and hope for the best. I opted for this choice, as putting wet panties over top of a dry clean diaper is just not something a good girl does. I balled up my wet panties so that the dry bits covered the wet and stuffed them into my backpack. There was insufficient room in my backpack for the opened diapers, so I pulled out a cloth bag and put the pack in this. I then headed out into the world. I then went for a rather longer walk all the way to the public library, which is on the other side of the mall and through a lovely little park. There I dropped off a book and picked up a couple of holds I had, stuffing these into the bag with the pull-ups. I spent some time browsing the shelves. It had been a good while since I had peed and while I did this, I felt the urge to pee growing. I was also careful to hold the back of my skirt when walking up the stairs at the library, nervous about flashing my Pull-ups at a library denizen. I was at a very comfortable 4 or 5 when I finally left the library (with a couple additional books and a documentary) and headed back to the mall. I had some time to kill and was keen crack into one of my new books, so I located a cool bench in the park, arranged myself so that I was not sitting on my skirt, and pulled out one of the holds that I have been dying to read. I ploughed through a couple of chapters before I registered that I needed to pee again, properly this time. A good solid 6. Not wanting to get up and abandon my book, and also, still suffused with naughty thoughts, I closed my eyes, and released. I could feel warmth suffuse my girl parts and the diaper filling up. The peed flowed differently inside the Pull-up than it does in a Goodnite. I find Goodnites a little more thirsty, so the pee doesn’t run as much, but rather gets absorbed. In a Pull-up, the pee sort of ran all over getting my bum wet quickly. I bore down after a good 30 seconds (as soon as I was able), worried about leaks. I listened for the tell tale patter of droplets hitting the cement beneath me, indicating that the diaper had leaked, but I heard nothing. While there were no passersby, I reached my hand between my legs and felt for wetness. The Pull-up felt squishy and warm but I didn’t feel any leaks. I read more of my book, all the while enjoying the warm squishy feeling of the wet diaper between my legs. After a couple more chapters, I was starting to get chilly and decided to get up and head back to the mall to get changed before heading home. I hoisted my heavy backpack, picked up my bag, and headed back to the mall. The wet diaper under my skirt felt heavy and rubbed against my thighs subtly. I navigated my way into the mall and found the nearest washroom. Once again, I surreptitiously made my way into the family washroom and barred the door. Because I had in no way emptied my bladder earlier, I wiped off the toilet seat, pulled down my Pull-ups, and peed. I tore the sides of the diaper pretty badly yanking them down, and I tore them off completely while I was peeing. I inspected the gathers and cute designs on the Pull-ups and noticed that I had made the ‘learning designs’ thoroughly disappear. It looked like I needed some more time to learn. After wiping myself, and snapping some pics of the wet Pull-up for all you perverts, I rummaged in my bag and found another diaper. This one I tore badly trying to pre-stretch it, so I stuffed it back in the bag (even torn diapers can be fun, but at home), and pre-stretched another. I carefully shimmied this one up, checked myself in the mirror, washed my hands, and then headed off into the mall once more. I was all excited at having changed myself in a public washroom, and rethinking the whole adventure on my head as I walked to the SkyTrain. I was feeling very naughty by the time I arrived, and as I was on the ground floor, I was less than careful with holding the back of my skirt as I made my way up the steep stairs to the platform. Did I flash a tight pair of Pull-ups to a pervy stranger beneath me? Possibly. But even the prospect of doing this quickened my pulse. I sat on the SkyTrain most ladylike, thank you very much, my adventures with subtle exhibitionism only go so far, and I texted my hubby to see if he was home, he was, and I let him know that he should be ready for a very horny Rachel when I got home. I was throbbing by the time I reached my stop (which isn’t many stops), and I hurried home. My husband didn’t say anything when I got in the door, pushed him into the bedroom and removed my clothes, revealing a brand of diaper that we don’t normally have in the house. It didn’t stay on long however, and I got myself good and satisfied. Well, I hope you enjoyed my adventure, I will share some more soon of course. If you appreciate my work, do please consider buying a pair of my panties or just getting me something off my wishlist, the more fun things I have to wear and play with, the more stories I can share! http://rachelkirwan.wixsite.com/panties Here’s to the next 8000…. Rachel

Well so this is a classic B (or maybe C) film which features a creeper who kidnaps a young woman and keeps her in the basement. She develops Stockholm syndrome and well yeah. I'm sharing it because while she is tied up, which is about 1/3 of the entire film, he keeps her in pullups to stop her from making a mess. Anyhow, I think you can find it on Amazon... **Warning Contains lots of creepy, non-consensual scenes, and also bad acting ** Here are some screen grabs I took: Rach

View File Recent Diaper Videos Found on Tumblr Found these recently and thought I'd share. Enjoy, Rach Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 02/16/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay  

View File Rachel's Diaper Video Grab Bag! So another collection of recent discoveries for your enjoyment. A rather random grab-bag of diaper-related vids. Enjoy, Rach *** Contains peeing, nudity and masturbation with a dildo *** Submitter rachelkirwan Submitted 01/10/2019 Category Diapers and ageplay