Guest Entry: Champ

[CWIS'S NOTE] Up today I've got an article from someone new: Champ. Champ is an AB/lil' boy, 26, from southern California. You'll find him on RUPadded (http://www.RUPadded.com/Champ) and he has a Tumblr blog: http://lilboychamp.tumblr.com. This is his first time submitting to Abysitter.com. 

Special note: What follows is a true account from Champ's developmental years. In the essay you are about to read, he talks about activities which occurred when he was a child. This is not to be confused with Deeker-era stories involving "real-life sightings" of children, etc. While this is certainly not the first blog entry involving memories of childhood, I'd respectfully ask that anyone offended by this type of material skip the remainder of this blog entry, and that anyone who is turned on by that kind of material kindly exit my blog.

Thanks to Champ for such an introspective blog entry - this is awesome stuff. Anyone else who'd like to contribute on similar topics, or any ABDL-related topics, please get in touch.

GUEST ENTRY: Champ

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Champ here.  For as long as I can remember having complete thoughts, I have always had a desire to wear diapers and after eight years of sporadic wearing, I am ready to follow that desire and find out where it takes me.  But where I am now, and what happened in those eight years to bring me here is a story for another day.  Instead, I'd like to talk about my relationship to diapers before the Fall of my 18th year.   Back when I could only imagine the day when I would finally be free to wear as I liked.

I was born in 1986 and I'm told I potty trained myself at the age of two, before my memory starts.  My first coherent memories, and the first ones connected to diapers start two years later at the age of four - a full year before I would have my first fantasies about other boys.  When I was four, I was friends with a neighbor boy named Jake who was a little younger than me and I remember that I was fascinated by his sister's life after she was born. How they bathed her in the sink, how they put an alarm in her diaper to tell when she wet.  I asked him one day if he remembered what diapers felt like.  We put a pillow on him like a diaper but he said it didn't feel the same.  Not long after, I noticed that one of my big sister's old dolls was wearing a real baby diaper.  One day, when I was in my room for being naughty, I grabbed it from the toy chest and put it on beneath my pants.  It was a crinkly white pamper and I was surprised that it felt just like my underwear.  The crinkle was too loud, so I quickly took my pants off and removed it just in time to avoid getting caught by my mom as she returned to lecture me.  Later that day I brought an inflatable tugboat tub toy to the bathroom with me and peed in it, pretending it was a diaper, but it would be a long time before I got to try on the real thing again.

By the age of eight I knew that diapers were for babies and not for big boys.  But this only made me want them more.  At night I would sleep on my side with a pillow wedged comfortably between my legs.  I remember one particular dream in which I was locked into a  series of connected cages, like a McDonald's Playplace.  It was where they kept babies and somehow I had gotten locked in with no way out.  This both excited and terrified me.  In one of the cages I found a suspended rubber ducky and began rubbing up against it, only to wake up rubbing against my pillow in the same way.  Eight is around the age at which I began to fantasize about being tied up, often incorporating kidnap scenarios into make believe games I played with friends.  I always hated having to escape so it's no wonder I remember the dream so well.  

At age nine, I diapered my first boy.  He was a chubby kid with curly blonde hair and we were playing in my room when I brought out an old sling I had used when I hurt my arm.  I don't know what I said but it wasn't hard for me to convince him to let me put it on him like a diaper.  Again this didn't last long because my mom kept coming in to check on us, but boy was it fun.  

My interest in all of these aspects of diaper wearing only increased with time.  

By the age of ten, I was having fantasies about being kidnapped by all the girls in class and forced to wear baby clothes.  I remember one fantasy in particular where I was tied to a pole in nothing but a diaper and bonnet and teased by all the boys and girls that passed by.  I think that should have told me that I was more than a Diaper Lover and yet I am only realizing that now.

At eleven I finally managed to buy a pack of baby diapers.  They fit me perfectly and I just laid in one for a while enjoying the feeling before throwing it out in the trash.  When my mom found it she asked me why I had a diaper.  I later made up a lie which neither of us believed but being the great mom that she is, she had the sense not to push the issue.  As for the rest of the diapers they went straight into the trash never to be seen again.

At age twelve, I am sorry to admit I committed a sin.  I went to a private school with students from pre-school to eighth grade and once I discovered there were diapers there for the little kids, I snuck a couple home.  Sadly, this would be the last diaper experience I'd have until college.  It must've been near the end of my twelfth year because I was able to successfully reach orgasm when I rubbed myself through the diapers.  Every time I put one on, it was like heaven, but no matter how much I tried to make them last, it wasn't long before I started rubbing myself through them.  Once I had used them like that, I had to throw them away.  I did not like the idea of being in a dirty diaper, and I certainly didn't consider actually using them for their intended purpose.  

I look back on all the boundaries I've made and broken and laugh.  In the years since I was sure I would never use diapers.  Then I was sure I would never mess them.  I was sure I would never wear them outside of my dorm room.  And I was just sure I would never wear them in everyday situations.  I was completely sure I would never tell anyone else about them and positively sure that I could never tell a significant other about them.  I would just hide this part of me forever and lead a simple, stereotypical middle class life next door to the Joneses.  It hurt for a long time, being different.  It can be scary to look at yourself honestly and discover what it is you really want because you don't know what you'll find or if you'll be able to accept it.  But the attrition of all these years has finally washed away my shame, even though I'm still a little scared.   Want to know a secret?  Everybody feels this way sometimes, no matter how many fears they have faced and defeated.  It never ends!  But there's always a reward on the other side of a fear and after eight years on the fence, it's time for me to claim it.  Until next time, stay padded!

-Champ

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Again, check out the rest of Champ's pictures,

including a very hot diaper changing series, on his Tumblr.