Wow, I slept ALLLL day yesterday, cleaned the house, ran errands, just wore diapers all day, nothing big happened, wore like 5 tenas. Today I woke up at 7 or so, I'm an early riser, theres something in me that makes me wake up at 7 or 8 every morning. When I wake I do this stretch with my feet while laying down where I push out the heels and arch back the toes to relieve stress in the calf muscle. It was so satisfying that I wet my diapers right there, I was lying on my back and I didn't leak, and the comfy-ness of the wet cloth made me feel all smiley and happy, I fell right back asleep. I woke up around 10 in a still warm cloth didee, it was nice :) My ex-boyfriend, the college professor, the one person I've ever given the boyfriend title to, but in public I was generally introduced as his daughter... He used to call me his little furnace, I guess I emit alot of heat, enough to keep a wet diaper warm or contempt for a long-dead relationship.
Sorry, I ran into him tonight at a local film scene mixer, I pretty much just avoid him, he says how good I look and I give him a hug, he sneaks a kiss, and thats it, we return to our separate schmoozes.I didn't dress terribly cute tonight, I was tired and all the faces are familiar, half the room knows me from when I was doing the Tower training videos, aka - 'back in the day'. I wore a Tranquility ATN Small under a pink polo and a black and pink skirt, flats, some blush and eye shadow and a tiny bit of gloss. I was going to leave and meet some friends from the trip at a hookah bar, but my ex handed me a glass of champagne and asked if I wanted to join him outside for one of his imported cigarettes. He knows I don't drink or smoke anymore, but I've been going to the mixer for 8 years, and cuddling up at night with him for 5 of them, its easy to break rules with old friends.
We went out onto the balcony of the Sheraton, it was windy and cold and the pool was covered and furniture stacked. We talked, or rather, he talked, as it often ended up, he always had something to say to either argue or trump whatever you said. I started feeling lightheaded from the cigarette, and I got a little closer to him, for warmth... right? I didn't know what I was doing, but I am a pretty lonely girl, and he was my only one, my mentor, my friend and confidante. I really loved him, but I know we'll never be together again, I just wanted to be close to him again for a minute, that old familiar sting. Things got quiet and I put my head on his chest, his hand found itself on the small of my back, moving me a little closer. His hold moved a little further down, I was looking in his eyes and could tell the exact moment when he realized I was diapered, one of the points of contention in our relationship. We exchange looks, first his excitement to have his arms around his girl again, then a look of disdain over feeling a plastic diaper instead of a little pair of panties, my look changed to a cute/embarressed "well, you know I wear diapers" look, which illicited this response...
"To be honest, I thought you would have grown out of that by now"
I squeeze him hard for just a moment, the kind of hugs we used to give each other, and then I look him in the eyes and say with every ounce of dissapointment in my body, "oh Nathan..." He knows I'm sensitive about my diapers and can be nervous wearing them around him, and i feel extra bad if he talks down to me about them, because he just thinks they're gross and it makes me feel like a pervert. Also, I hate when people think saying "To be honest" before something makes saying something rude ok... grrrrr....
I toss out my champagne into a bush, and walk back inside, leaving him to finish his cigarette, alone and cold without all those shiny happy people to tell him how great he is, then call him a pedo and a bore behind his back. I've always wanted to keep it real, my real self, and never make compromises, and with him I always felt like the bottom line, meaning of life, it wasn't growing and learning for him, it was about amassing control, power, but deep down here's as afraid as the rest of us, maybe even more. All in all, I've been to the mountains and to the big city all in a couple days, the city has much better hors d'oeuvre but the mountains doesn't need lights or makeup, and its harder to get your heart broken.
I guess the whole purpose of this post is to explain why I likebondage.
I'm not a fetishist in the sense that I don't NEED anything to enjoy romance/sex. Most of the sex I've ever had has been vanilla, all of the ''relationships'' I've been in have been with people much less kinky than my very kinky self. Before coming out about being transgendered and AB/DL, I dated more than I do these days. I go months without sex, I'm relatively happy by myself, sexually and mentally. I do get lonely.
That's not what this post is about, this is about how much I like being tied up. I at one point was a strong practitioner of Self Bondage but have somewhat lost interest in that. It's lost the thrill after I've done it enough times, and it's kinda hard to take it seriously. I've used some tactics such as freezing keys in ice cubes and using combination locks in a dark room, so I have to wait for the sun comes up to unlock my bounded self. It's fun, but without a partner it does get a bit boring. Adding diapers to the equation makes it much more interesting...
I think many of us who share the same "interests" or "kinks" as I do (bondage, AB/DL etc) fantasize about not having control, especially when it comes to using our diapers. Ideally this would be achieved through a 24/7 diaper regiment and tons of dedication. For those of us that have not attempted, failed, or are currently going through that process, bondage can be a lovely alternative. Though I don't have hardly any experience with experienced partners, the times I have been tied up have been amazing. I love the helpless feeling, the attention, the mystery of whats going to happen next, and the relaxing feeling of an utter lack of responsibility.
I generally use the term "SubSpace" to describe this feeling, its like a mix of riding your bike down a big hill and falling asleep with a teddy bear in your arms. I cried a bit to myself when I was first tied up by another person, diapered in my crib, but it was just a little whimper and made me feel better. I'm blessed with a vivid imagination, and when I'm bound or even just in little girl mode I can kinda astral project to watch myself, and seeing myself this way only solidifies the subspace I'm in. I don't have to be bound, just the right attire or setting can trigger this meditative state. As far as I can tell, this is as close as a person as skeptical and, dare I say, nihilistic, as myself can get to actually meditating, even breaching on the transcendental. I'm not a total nihilist, I'm a sunny-side up nihilist, there are no absolutes and everything is subjective, but as a society and as individuals we should learn all we can, have a great time and be damn sure not to take advantage of anyone. It's this mindset that allows me to explore both ends of the spectrum, both pain and pleasure, fear and comfort, love and loneliness. The hurt makes the healing, and vice-versa.
This is a recollection of my past experiences with bondage, training and humiliation. Thanks for looking back with me, now it's time to look forward. I've been playing around, testing the waters, and now it's time for some real experiences.
We buried a friend in Cincinnati, my old middle school crew and a hundred crying family members. I still know some people from middle school but haven't seen the friend in mention since 04. He moved to Ohio for the later part of High-School, I would see him log onto IM but never messaged, I was so sure we had grown apart that I didn't try to reconnect. When I got the call that he had committed suicide, I was asked to join his family at his funeral in Cincinnati. I guess his parents didn't know how little we were in contact, maybe it just meant a lot to his parents to have people they remember from his childhood around, I was always very polite at birthday parties.
He didn't know I was trans or AB/DL or what music i was into or anything current, he was always very conservative and with him is where I learned to gut and clean a deer, something I've been trying to forget since. For the 5 days I was there I looked like a sharp young man, a funeral for a friend is one of those times where expressing myself isn't important. It was the first time in years, and maybe in my entire life where I was perceived as a man, it felt new and strange, like cross-dressing. I got my suit out of my moms garage and borrowed a tie, kept my pitch low and let my facial hair grow out. On the positive side, I got the ego boost of flirty looks from the local girls and some rock-star treatment due to my tight-jeans California hipster looks and my indie filmmaker reputation.
All of us grew out of our god-fearing child hood except the family of my friend, the services were long and unrepresentative of the person I knew, and for the theologically uninformed, Catholics don't look kindly on suicide. I don't know why he did it, maybe he didn't think he'd actually do it, or maybe he wanted to see how it feels, to have all that pain and then nothing. In middle school we used to talk about how curious we were about seeing heaven, how it would feel and what it would be like, if we were good enough to get in or if it even exists. We used to think of ways to kill ourselves on accident or just die for a few minutes so we wouldn't go to hell but we could still see death, it was always kind of a joke, but with a eerie bit of seriousness about it. On that note, I'm really glad I don't ponder god or the afterlife very often anymore, I'm purely Que SeraSera, I don't have any knowledge or control over god or the afterlife, therefore it will be what it will be. Be a good person because your a good person, not because you're going to get something for it, be it karma or heaven.
After the service and the painful wake, I went out with the guys, watched them throw beers into the river and punch the iron girders of the bridge he walked off of. We got stinking drunk and I had my shoulder cried on by strangers and old friends, brothers fought and made up and some good times were remembered. I stayed for a few days due to a chartered flight, his father was a pediatrician who specialized in critical cancer patients, which explains flying out all his old friends and the ivory casket. It would be tough to have a dad with a depressing job like that, to understand death so early and always have that dark cloud above you, and being born with money I'm sure leaves people with the feeling of nothing to look forward to. Here I am blaming someone, damn grief cycle.
I think I've talked about this enough to have purged whatever needed purging, please no condolence emails or anything, you don't have any idea who this person was, and never will. I've been to many funerals in my time, and death has always been a curiosity for me. I hope I can go a year without one, and why does it always rain? With everything else going on in my life this was a shock, I realize it would have been best for my mental, emotional and financial state to stay home, but I felt like I had to go. I've been so happy lately with the hormones, I needed something to get to me, I'm over balling up sadness and pain, I needed to cry and hug my teddy bear. Things have felt different since coming back, I'm still happy and content, I just feel a little older. This whole experience just goes to show, if life gives you lemons, someone you know might die.
Name: Riley K. Home: United States About Me: I started this blog to share some of my life with my fellow AB/DL and transgendered people, and anybody else that wants to go outside the box a little bit. I live every day as a girl and I've been doing this blog for over 2 years! Read More
