Posted by Super-Soaker on February 07, 1999 at 12:48
The Perfect Load
(An anonymous true story)
Ten years ago, I moved to San Francisco, finding a room to
rent, upstairs in a single family house. The landlady was approaching her 50’s, and I was about 25. There was a strange sexual tension between us, and it was acted out on in several weird ways. There are other stories to be told about those days, but they are for a different venue. For now, this is the story of my Perfect Load.
During my life, I’d experimented with diapers on and off. It’s never been daily, but rather something I occasionally fell back on when heartbroken, in emotional pain or under severe and prolonged stress. I’m slim, and can still fit into toddler size vinyl pants, and I love shimmying into a pair and padding it with several prefolded cloth diapers. I’ve often had a small bundle of diapers and pants tucked away in a high closet shelf for when one of those days came. I’d go for years without taking them out, then one day I felt I just had to be diapered and feel that warm, wet, heavy fullness - being so wet that the diapers I squeezed into my genuine toddler pants were saturated, and a large, sloshing puddle formed down in the middle of them.
Some days, I’d go through three or more changings, soaking each thick set until they were too wet to be worn any longer. Sometimes I’d put just a few diapers inside my plastic pants, and they’d get saturated right away, and the noise of my stream would rush through the thin padding and ring against the pants like the sound of a long zipper being slowly opened. I’d rock back and forth until the entirety of the diapers were as completely wet as they could get. Sometimes, I’d go too far, and the diapers would copiously leak through the leg openings when I moved or sat down. Other times I’d crawl into bed with a dry set, and carefully leak a little at a time into my diapers, savoring the warm damp comfortable feeling, and sometimes I’d go to sleep that way.
I only rarely did "number 2" in my diapers, because of how messy and hard to clean that was, but I did occasionally have to do that, too. Usually, this happened while I was also very wet, and I’d realize that I really had to go #2, as it would start to push out on it’s own. When I felt that, I’d give in, and I’d press down hard, and a big load would fill my soggy diapers. Sometimes this was an extremely intense experience; a culmination following several hours of changing wet diapers. I especially like it when the load came out as a large and firm log, poking into my diapers and staying together until it broke or shifted. I had noticed, of course, that the size and consistency of these loads depended a lot on what I had been eating recently…
I was never conscious of actually making plans, but in retrospect, one day I started preparing for the Perfect Load. The night before, I had gone to a restaurant that offers breakfast all day long, and I had had a huge "Grand Slam" breakfast, which came with eggs, potatoes, pancakes and sausage, and I ordered another very large extra stack of pancakes to go with it. Leaving the Restaurant, almost short of breath from being so full, some little voice in the back of my mind said "good start, keep it up…" The pancakes, in particular, whispered a promise to me, and with the memory of that little voice in my head, that morning for breakfast I went back, and ate three large orders of pancakes. Later that day, despite still being full from that mornings gigantic helpings of pancakes, I went back again, and forced down two more large stacks of them. I staggered out to my car with a full, distended belly and could only go home and take a nap. That evening, I couldn’t stand the idea of more pancakes, but I had two orders of french fries and then squeezed 4 large corn muffins into me. After 24 hours of pancakes and other heavy starchy foods, I felt like I had gained 20 lbs. It had also been almost two days since my last bowel movement, and now I felt a specially strong pressure to do so. But despite the discomfort, I resisted the urge and went to sleep.
The next morning, the feeling of pressure was ever-present, but not bothersome – my body seemed to have had the understanding that things would wait I felt the time was right, and so I held back. I wasn’t hungry, to be sure, and I certainly couldn’t stand the idea of more starchy food. By that afternoon my last huge stacks of pancakes were 24 hours ago, three more the morning before, and that grand slam and first stack two nights ago, never mind the french fries and corn muffins last night.
By late afternoon, the feeling of fullness and pressure was becoming more than just intellectual. Though I felt I still had the will to wait longer, now I knew what was coming – eating all those pancakes had happened in something like a fugue state, but now I began to toy in earnest with the circumstances that would lead up to the Perfect Load.
I broke out my diapers and vinyl pants from the bottom drawer of my closet dresser. I took off all of my clothes and got into a pair of the toddler pants. I thought about what the right number of diapers would be, as my skin sweated a little in the naked pants. I guessed that, with the weight in my belly, I shouldn’t make the diapers too bulky, or there might not be enough room. I toyed with the idea of just using one thin diaper, since I wasn’t intending to wet them, just fill them. I mused that filling up my pants with a really huge load while wearing just one small, thin diaper might be particularly fun. But I thought I should prepare for some wetting, too. Finally, I selected three new, unwashed prefolded birdseye diapers, pulled down my vinyl pants, laid them inside, and pulled them up as high and tight against me as I could.
I got into bed and felt the needful pressure straining inside me. I lay there and caressed the outside of my vinyl pants, and thought about the moment when I couldn’t resist longer. But something seemed lacking. By then I knew I was going to have to push out a big load very soon, but I felt the need for an added sensation, something to make the moment more memorable in some way. I toyed with various ideas, but the strain to keep from pushing down was becoming unbearable, and it got so I couldn’t think anymore.
Just as I was resigned to filling my diapers right there and then, I heard my landlady (I rented her upstairs room) leave the house and drive off. I stood and watched her leave from my window. Then I left my room and walked, naked save for my tight diapers, downstairs into her living room. I was allowed to walk through her house to get to the laundry, but I had never done so while dressed this way! I stood there, feeling the growing pressure practically force a big sausage-shaped load into my diapers, and squatted part way, feeling my anus open slightly under the pressure. But I pressed back and kept everything inside. I paced back and forth some more, feeling the urgency, until I broke into a cold sweat. I was going to let go into my diapers, whether I wanted to or not. I took another look out the window, as I wasn’t sure how long my landlady was going to be gone. I paced back and forth some more, wondering how long I was going to be able to wait.
This was crazy – here I was, pacing in my landlady’s living room, naked except for vinyl pants and diapers, desperate to take a dump in them, but it wasn’t enough. Then something snapped, and I suddenly walked toward the back of her living room and saw that her bedroom door was ajar. I opened it and entered. The pressure was unbearable, and I squatted slightly again, feeling my anus once more open slightly, as a firm log strained to push out. I gulped and pushed back once more.
I looked around – the place was a mess. Her bed was unmade, and there were clothes and underwear strewn about. I picked up a bra that was on the floor. It was an old, unfashionable design, heavy and stiff, and I smelled the inside of one of the cups. This is crazy, I thought again. I have to go now, or she’ll walk in and catch me. But instead of leaving, I did something impossible – I got into her bed and drew her unmade covers over me. The bed smelled like her bra did – of her body, and I wondered what she would say and do if she caught me in it. I raised up my legs inside her covers and drew the diaper tighter around my rear.
Just then, it happened. I shuddered involuntarily, and before I could try to stop myself, I heaved and pushed down, and a hugely thick log was pushed an inch or two out of my anus and into my diapers. It stuck out of me stiffly, and pressed against the bottom of my tightly pulled-up diapers, pushing against them. Splaying my legs up and out, I experimentally pushed a little more. Maybe another inch of the big firm log pressed out, but it held it’s shape and I could feel the diapers pushing back against it. I relaxed, and the diapers pushed the log back inside me just a little.
I lay there in my landlords bed, heart pounding, listening for her return, feeling my anus stretched widely around that monster log, and pulled her blankets tighter around me. I relaxed with that fat log part way out, and pulled at my tightly drawn-up diapers to make just a little more room inside them, otherwise this monster would never escape. No sooner had I done that, then I experienced another almost involuntary contraction, and with a rush and a sound a little like ripping silk, the fat log came out about 6 inches, until it was pressed firmly against the bottom of my plastic-clad diapers. I shifted a little, and pressed down hard again. With the strain, the log finally folded over, and another 4 inches immediately came out in one push.
I shifted and felt below, and was gratified by the large solid lump that lay in my diapers. I pushed again, and the log that had broken and folded into them was joined by it’s other half, all in one rush, and then, in several large lumps, there was a good 10 inches of firmly packed "pancakes" filling my diapers. The next big log was already opening my anus in a bid for escape, but I wanted to take my time. I shifted, lifting my rear up into the air, then set it down again. I felt the warm lumps against my rear, and cupped the burgeoning load through my plastic-covered diapers.
My heart was still pounding, and my mind was buzzing with a strange, extended rush. I kept my hand over the healthy load and pushed again, and another incredibly large log squeezed into my diapers. I had to lift my rear up again to allow it to fit. The large lumps were so stiff and solid that they deformed very little, even when I drew my legs together to squeeze the load a little. I shifted more to spread open the crack of my rear, and adjusted my plastic pants to allow the load to shift away from my rear and then nestle back. I arched my back and ground the diaper-clad load a little between me and my landlords bed.
Pushing down hard, I forced another wide log partway out. I had to squirm to re-arrange the load to make room for the rest of it, and finally I pushed an additional 4-6 inches into my heavy, packed load. There was more to come, though, and I had to reach down and squirm a little to make still more room, and another big log joined the load. It stuck out of me, and when I stopped pushing, it re-entered me almost all the way from all the pressure the fully packed diaper was exerting on it. I relaxed again, taking some time to see how much would come back inside me, seeing if I could draw every bit of it back in, then pushed hard and it finally came all the way out, in one big solid slug until it, too, folded over into my diapers.
Now my diapers were so full and packed that my lower leg openings were gaping a little. That would have meant severe leaking if I was as wet as I normally would want to be by now. It was rare that I wasn’t wet while wearing diapers, and I marveled at how fully packed my diapers were with my load while not being the least bit damp. I almost wanted to wet my diapers then, but I knew I still had to make a bigger load before long.
I gingerly got up on the bed and squatted onto my haunches, being careful not to sit down on the heavy load or pack it down inside my diapers. I squirmed my butt around and felt the heavy load dangling below my rear, lightly touching me. I pulled up on my plastic pants, drawing the hot load firmly up against me and, holding that position, I pushed again, forcing another chunk out. I felt I was nearly finished, but didn’t want to give up, so I took a deep breath and pushed harder than ever, and one of the longest logs yet joined the rest. It wasn’t as large around, but was so long that I had to let go and let the diapers hang a little beneath me to give it plenty of room.
At last, the load tapering off to a string of firm chunks like soft golf-balls, which I pushed out one at a time, teary-eyed and gasping between each. Just then, between the anxiety about being caught naked, filling my diapers while squatting on my landlords bed, and the high of having laid the largest, firmest, most erotic load of my life in my pants, I moaned and involuntarily experienced a massive orgasm.
I swayed on my haunches, sweating, almost blind from the pleasure of the huge load and orgasm and then stood part-way up, feeling the mass and heavy weight of the Perfect Load in my pants swing below me. I sat down on her bed, squishing the firmly packed load against my rear. I put my head between my knees, and suddenly a little stream of pee started. I pushed a little again, and the stream rushed out harder. I relaxed, and the stream trickled out softly for almost a minute, until my heavy, firmly packed diaper was soaked.
I stood slowly, and waddled towards the door. I had to walk bow-legged from the size of the load in my pants. I paused to feel the warmth and wetness, and then waddled into the living room. I stood there, still bow-legged, feeling my heart finally slow down again. My plastic-covered diapers hung heavily beneath me and I squatted down, letting the bottom of my diapers just rest on the carpeted floor. Having walked those few steps, I felt I should push again, and I did, and several well-compressed golf-ball sized chunks, as well as a short hot stream of pee, exited simultaneously. I sat down harder, compressing the warm load beneath me, and gently rocked back and forth.
Just then, I heard a car drive up. I stood, waddled to the window in time to see my landlord slamming her car door, and then quickly but carefully leaped up the stairs to my room. I stood in the center of my room with my hand holding the bottom of my full, heavy, warm, obscenely full diapers, and listened to my landlord walk about down stairs. The Perfect Load lay full and warm in my pants, and I felt fine.
+++++++
Perhaps next time I’ll write about the time my landlord "accidentally" caught me on her couch and what we did then.