Deeker’s Diaper History

 

Updated 08/09/2009

 

Toilet Training Difficulties

 

When I was a young boy I was very difficult to toilet train. At age four I was still wearing diapers and sometimes training pants, which to me were as good as diapers. They were thick and white just like the diapers I had become so accustomed to wearing (and fond of as I greatly enjoyed the look and feel of such undergarments).

 

My toilet training difficulties primarily concerned my lack of ability to control my bowel movements and as a result I frequently had pooping accidents, much to the consternation of my mother, grandmother and babysitter who lived next door. Peeing accidents were rare; however, and I was not a bedwetter.

 

My father, who worked all day, had little to do with his first and only son’s toilet training as doing so required more patience than my father could muster, so this task was delegated to my mother. My two older sisters mastered the toilet by age two and had nary an accident, pee or poop. Perhaps my sister’s successful and early toilet training raised the bar and raised the expectations of my parents, who undoubtedly did take into account the fact that boys generally take longer and are more difficult to toilet train than girls.

 

My toilet training was solidly a very unpleasant experience for me and for everyone involved in that it left them feeling very frustrated and discouraged. There was nothing positive about the experience at all and there were almost no rewards offered or given for successful toilet training. My parents simply expected me to be able to get to the toilet when I needed to poop and I just would not do it. I don’t know if they had higher expectations of me in spite of being a boy, of if they just simply lost their patience with me when, at the age of four, almost five, I was still having too many pooping accidents and showing no hope of ever getting out of diapers.

 

I remember from as far back as age three that I loved my diapers. I distinctly remember having erections every time I looked down at my thick white diapers bulging out from between my bare legs and I indulgently felt the poop in the back of my diapers and savored the naughty smell. Every time I was in front of the mirror I would look at my white-diapered butt dwarfing my skinny bare legs and think about how there was so much poop behind that thick wall of white cotton panels and I was fondly reminded of how good those diapers made me feel. Was it any surprise that I did not want to give up something that brought me so much pleasure and made me feel more secure? Unfortunately, when you’re only four years old you don’t have the presence of mind, the vocabulary, the proper communication skills, or the understanding of one’s own sexual feelings to intelligently communicate such impressions to explain one’s motive to continue wearing and using diapers.

 

As I was approaching age five and would be enrolled in kindergarten by the following fall, it was imperative that I master my body’s control of its bowels and make it to the toilet each time. Other than some white boys’ briefs with racecars printed on them (one pair each— red, green and blue), I was given no incentives to use the toilet instead of my underwear for pooping into. I was merely expected to do it, period. My mother scolded me many times for my accidents, and even threatened to show my grandmother the soiled underpants she had gotten me to encourage me to use the potty (whether or not she ever did show my grandmother the incriminating evidence remains unknown). My mother was a kind, loving mother, but she was unprepared for dealing with such a stubborn boy who refused to let go of his diapers. Perhaps no parent could have possibly been prepared for such difficulties.

 

Multiple Underpants as Diapers

 

Because I was still not reliably toilet trained in spite of having outgrown the largest sizes of training pants available I was put into several pairs of plain white boys’ underpants (double-seated at first) to serve as diapers, and because I was already conditioned (perhaps innately, though such a response was likely influenced by my environment) to respond sexually to the sight of white diapers and training pants, my response to white boys’ briefs was naturally the same, especially when I wore several pairs at a time. Due to their thickness, wearing several pairs of underwear always necessitated the absence of pants, which may have also been intended partly as a punitive or disciplinary measure since my “diapers” were in full view of everyone, especially my sisters. The sight of my multiple pairs of underwear was an unending source of amusement for my sisters. My babysitter’s four-year-old daughter was also highly amused by the sight of a boy in over a dozen pairs of underwear. It was just like wearing those wonderfully thick, white diapers again, I thought to myself as I looked down at those bulging fly fronts and again looked behind me in the mirror at my well-padded butt.

 

As I got a little older I became increasingly aware of how it was the sight of my “diapers” that elicited the strangely pleasant response of getting an erection. Because of this pleasant response I quickly became quite fond of my underwear and I enjoyed wearing it in multiples. I enjoyed looking at the various features of my underwear such as the waistbands and the various stripe colors and patterns they had, the fly fronts, and the double seats, which sadly seemed to disappear after I attained the age of six.

 

See also: Deeker’s article, Briefs: The Other White Diapers to better understand the significance of white briefs and the roles they play in the formation of my feelings about diapers.

 

I did eventually gain control of my bowels by the time kindergarten started, for I did not want to be embarrassed and be smelly amongst my classmates. I managed to make it through my days in school without having to poop in the school’s toilets which offered little privacy, this ability mostly driven by my fears and concerns that my classmates would ridicule me, especially if I had farted loudly or stunk up the restroom or had not wiped adequately as I often done. Having retained my bowel movements for much of the day, this only led to me having more accidents, which resulted in my wearing of multiple underpants for diapers, much too thick for pants to fit over them. These accidents continued off and on with regularity up until about age nine.

 

Sisters

 

My sisters had the biggest influence on my feelings for diapers because of the ways they constantly teased me about having to wear so much underwear at a time without any pants on. As my sisters were often at the forefront of my pooping predicaments, they took great pleasure in noting that such thick underwear forced me to go pantsless and put my padded up butt and bare legs on full display for their ceaseless amusement. My sisters were well are of why I wore my underwear this way. My sisters were quick to point out how the double seated pairs made my butt stand out even more and were glad that my underwear was adorned with such a feature.

 

They referred to my underwear as “diapers” and pointed out the features of my underwear such as the fly front, the waistbands and the double seats. They loved to snap at my multiple waistbands by sneaking up behind me and calling attention to the fact that my butt was so thickly padded in underwear and stood out so much. They attributed my problems to the fact that I was a boy and explained that was why all boys’ underwear was plain white (which, at the time, it was, for the most part).

 

As representatives of the opposite sex to me, my sisters were also quick to point out that because they were girls they did not have pooping accidents and did not have to wear so much underwear that they could not wear pants. They bragged about getting to wear pants and not being smelly and being able to use the toilet and thus proudly showed off the pants that they could. According to my sisters, only boys had pooping accidents and had to wear such highly conspicuous plain white underwear in multiples. They often compared their low-rising skimpy panties to my high-rising briefs which always showed when I did wear pants. They also pointed out that their underwear was colored and not plain white like mine was, comparing the whiteness of my underwear to that of diapers and training pants. My sisters never let me actually see them in their underwear, whereas I often spent hours at a time in just my underwear in their presence. This difference in modesty was also attributed to the fact that I was a boy and that boys who poop themselves are not entitled to modesty.

 

The weirdest thing about it was that, while it was embarrassing for my sisters to see me wearing more underwear at one time than they each wore in two weeks’ time, on the inside I enjoyed listening to the things my sisters liked to point out about my “diapers” and all the other observations they made in order to further bolster their status over me as my big sisters. Since my erections felt so good and that somehow, somewhere along the way I learned that only boys had a penis, and therefore only boys could enjoy the sensation of wearing diapers without pants and pooping in them, I felt really excited from getting this kind of attention from my sisters.

 

As I got older and became more aware of my feelings about diapers and underwear, I became more fond of such thoughts as I approached the onset of puberty. I would look at the boys modeling underwear in the Sears and JC Penny catalogs, imagining their underwear being ten times thicker and double seated (a feature that mysteriously disappeared from boys’ underwear in the mid 1970s) and being observed by their sisters donning blue jeans. I’d look at diaper ads, wishing that the boys wearing them were older and wishing that they made full-fledged diapers for older boys and not just babies (they did, but they were not advertised or sold in most stores, so it seemed that diapers for older boys did not exist and therefore had to make do with wearing lots of underwear).

 

In spite of all the embarrassment I had to endure from my two sisters, I actually enjoyed the undue attention my pooping accidents and my resulting state of dress drew to me from my sisters and from their friends. I knew that I should act upset and often feigned such feelings, but deep inside, I enjoyed it and I sought opportunities to draw attention to my “diapers” from my female siblings. It was these moments with my sisters that planted the seed that would one day blossom into what is now known as Deekerianism.

 

Preteen Years

 

By age nine the frequency of my accidents had waned and had tapered off to the point that wearing multiple pairs of underpants was no longer imposed upon me, as I had apparently finally overcome my accidents. I missed “getting” to wear my underwear like this, but I could not bring myself to fake having an accident lest I be punished for it, so I had to confine my “diaper” indulging to my bedroom. As I continued to grow into my preteen years I explored these feelings more and more. Whenever the opportunity presented itself (usually when my mother and sisters left the house), I would take off my pants and put on a bunch of underwear and then play around in my bedroom, hoping that nobody would disturb me; usually it was just my father who also stayed home.

 

I would make drawings of boys wearing lots of underwear being teased by their sisters wearing pants. I would write stories (and how I wish I still had these materials! They were discarded out of fear of being found by my mother or sisters). I would imagine myself not having any pants to wear and having all my closets full of nothing but underwear, packed all the way to the top. I imagined myself going for months at a time without ever wearing anything but lots of underwear.

 

It was my own secret world, and I longed for it to be real, but I conceded that it never would be. It should come as no surprise that when I discovered masturbation my thoughts were focused on these themes, whereas most of my friends likely thought about girls. I only thought about girls in the sense of seeing them wearing pants and teasing the boys for not having any pants on over their two or three dozen pairs of underwear, which were scaled up in size to allow more pairs to fit and to make the topmost pairs even bigger and more conspicuous.

 

Puberty

 

By the time I was nearly twelve years old I was beginning to undergo the bodily changes that came with puberty. One night, as I had gone to bed, I was wearing at least a dozen pairs of my underwear. I had an erection as always, but this time I was driven to take things farther with this strangely pleasant sensation I had never before felt. I continued to massage the bulky fly fronts of my multiple underpants and the feeling intensified greatly as I thought about my thick underwear full of poop and remembering all the teasing things my sisters . I couldn’t stop now, and I had to keep going. I then felt what seemed to be an explosion of sorts, a feeling of sheer ecstasy that defied explanation. I had experienced my first orgasm. Once the initial wave of euphoria faded I then became scared, worried that I had “broken” something, that I overdid it. I got up from my bed, my legs still weak from the intense orgasm I had just experienced, and turned on the light. I pulled back the numerous fly fronts enshrouding my budding genitals to inspect the damage. Much to my surprise, there was a mysterious thick, white gooey substance that had shot out of my penis, unlike anything I had ever seen or felt my body produce before. I felt guilty about what I had done and was afraid I’d never again be normal. I vowed to never do that again. I was afraid to ask my mom or dad about what I had done since it seemed so taboo to me.

 

By the following night I was back at it again, already having forgotten my very short-lived vow of masturbatory celibacy, doing the same thing I did the night before. While I was excited to re-experience this wonderful feeling and relieved that no damage had been done in the short term, over the following nights my concerns became fixed on the possibility of injuring himself over time if I continued to engage in this activity. I would soon learn that there was a word for this activity— masturbation— and that it was normal for boys my age to engage in this practice. Because of my methods and the fact that I grew up with the notion that discussions of anything related to sex was forbidden, I kept my thoughts and activities a big secret to myself.

 

John Jungles

 

The most significant turning point in the development of my diaper fetish and the formation of my focus on diapered boys came one day while in junior high school when while in the locker room getting re-dressed after P.E. class I saw a boy whose underwear from a distance looked thicker and fuller and was distinctly whiter (no skin tone beneath a single layer that would subdue the whiteness). His name was John Jungles. As I got a closer look I saw that he was wearing a lot of underwear, The most significant turning point in the development of my diaper fetish and the formation of my focus on diapered boys came one day while in junior high school when while in the locker room getting re-dressed after P.E. class I saw a boy whose underwear from a distance looked thicker and fuller and was distinctly whiter (no skin tone beneath a single layer that would subdue the whiteness). His name was John Jungles. As I got a closer look I saw that he was wearing a lot of underwear, much more than I ever wore. Even more remarkable was the fact that he came to school like this! I really, really wanted to get to know this boy and find out more about his reasons to wear his underwear like this, even to school. John seemed to have no shame and no self-esteem or sense of self-preservation.

 

Some other observations I made about John:

 

·         He had only one pair of pants, which suggested that his need for having any pants at all was minimal. The pants he wore would not have fit him without the several pairs of underwear he wore.

·         He wore his briefs in larger sizes on the outside so that they would fit over the smaller pairs underneath. As a result, the topmost pairs were larger and came up higher on his body, and since they had presumably not been worn close to his skin they were always straight-out-of-the-package white.

·         He wore some of his underwear backwards and pulled the seats way up high over his stomach. The fly fronts on his butt added some extra padding, though when worn backwards the fly front did not go very high over the butt.

·         He tucked his shirt all the way down deep down between two of his innermost waistbands. Presumably, he did this so that his underwear and the number of waistbands that were exposed would be seen unobstructed in their entirety.

·         John’s sets of underwear always displayed his having a variety of waistbands which I recognized as being Fruit of the Loom, Hanes and several department store brands, including K-Mart and JC Penney.

·         On occasion I got to see his innermost pairs, which were thoroughly soiled with poop. He smelled of poop all the time.

·         He was not the least bit shy about letting others see him put on all his underwear. He liked to make a show of it by sticking his butt towards the impromptu audience that was the rest of the class waiting by the locker room door for the bell to ring.

·         He would sometimes go into a side room and put on his briefs there, away from the lockers, but with the door open and not caring that everyone could see him.

·         I never saw how many pairs he put on since he was still busy putting on his briefs by the time the bell rang (I was tempted to stay and watch, but I didn’t want to let on that I was interested in him since people already thought I was gay and picked on me under the assumption that I was). I would have estimated him wearing at least three dozen pairs, probably more.

·         He openly admitted he was gay and would chant, “I am a fag!” repeatedly.

·         He exhibited his alter ego in the form of He-Man. While this didn’t seem to have anything to do with his behavior regarding wearing multiple briefs, it did indicate that he had some behavioral issues that might have explained his wearing of multiple briefs.

 

John became the central focus of my fantasies for quite some time. I ran a variety of thoughts through my head as I indulged in my underwear during my “alone time” as the opportunities permitted during the day, and at night after I had gone to bed:

 

·         If this was how much underwear he wore to school with pants over them I could only imagine how much more underwear he wore at home. Since he clearly was obsessed with his underwear, it seemed highly doubtful that he would want to wear pants over his underwear at home.

·         I imagined him having a sister who got to observe this sort of behavior and also partook in it by teasing him, handling the washing of his underwear, perhaps putting his underwear on him. His sister, in my mind, was tall with long hair and glasses. She had wide hips and wore blue jeans. She resembled many of the girls I had crushes on, my crushes being based on how I would have felt having these girls as my sisters who teased me. The fact that weren’t really my sisters removed the quasi-incest factor from the scenario, which made it more satisfying. Unfortunately I was never able to ascertain if he really had any sisters or if any girls regularly saw him in lots of underwear (no doubt some of his classmates did!)

·         I speculated several possible reasons for him to come to school like this. I also had several questions, such as whether he came to school this way because he wanted to wear lots of underwear or if his parents made him wear lots of underwear.

·         I never gave his peeing much thought, but I considered the fact that with as much underwear as he put on it would not have been practical for him to attempt pulling them all down to use a urinal. His underwear was so thick that he could have probably peed in it and it would not have leaked all the way through.

·         I imagined him frequently masturbating in his underwear out in the open where his sister (if she existed) could see him doing it. Just as he showed no shame in the locker room, I imagine he would not have sought any sort of privacy to relieve himself of his sexual urges.

·         I thought about what it would have been like to have sleepovers with him (both at his house and at mine) and all the fun things we would have done together.

 

My biggest regret of all is the fact that I never approached John. I wish I could have put aside my fears and concerns and just talked to him, and once I earned his trust I could ask him what I wanted to know about his apparent obsession with his underwear and telling him about my own experiences. Since I was already so unpopular I didn’t need to give my aggressors any more reasons to pick on me. I had few friends as it was and I did not want to risk compromising these friendships. Before I mustered up the courage to talk to him he either moved away or transferred to another school.

 

In retrospect I have considered some possible explanations about John that I did not consider at the age of 13. John may have been a foster child, which would possibly explain the short stint he had at my school. I have also thought about his behavior possibly resulting from sexual abuse, wearing extra underwear to make his body less accessible, and soiling himself to make his body less desirable. I should emphasize that I do not take the possibility of sexual abuse of this boy or any other boy into any of my fantasy thoughts!

 

Having squandered a friendship that could have been wonderfully fun and fulfilling, I could only fantasize about what might have been, thus inspiring me to write a story about this boy being friends with me. The story is appropriately titled, What Might Have Been.

 

While I am not counting on it, I do hold out some hope on the slim chance that John Jungles is still out there somewhere and that he might someday come across this article and contact me. Given the level of involvement that he demonstrated having in his underwear, I would expect him to still have similar interests.

 

John, if you are out there and you come across this article, I personally invite you to contact me. To ascertain that you are the John I am seeking, you attended Meridian Junior High School in Meridian, Idaho in the fall on 1983 for a few months (the school has since been renamed to Meridian Middle School).

 

Teen Years

 

As I had advanced into my teen years I was fully aware of and engaged in my sexual feelings. Having missed a great opportunity to share this secret with John, I hoped that I could confide in one of my longtime friends to know this intimate detail about himself. One night during a sleepover I let my friend Justin see me wearing a bunch of underwear. I did not want to reveal everything just yet as I wanted to test Justin’s reaction. I explained that I liked how my underwear looked and felt but did not explain that I had worn my underwear like this because of the frequent pooping accidents I had as a little boy. Much to my disappointment, Justin showed no interest and dismissed my behavior as weird and said nothing more about it, so I made no further efforts to share my secret. I also had a crush on one of Justin’s sisters, Lori, who had long straight brown hair and was pudgy, just the kind of girl I liked. I often fantasized about her being my sister and I wanted her to see in multiple pairs of underwear. My biggest fantasy with Lori was for her and Justin’s other sisters to strip me of my pants and put me in diapers and then leave me that way for an entire weekend.

 

My fixation on diapers and boys led to a great deal of confusion over my sexuality. While thinking about girls aroused me when I thought about girls seeing me in diapers and changing my diapers, I did not have “normal” thoughts about girls. I also thought about fellow boys wearing diapers and this fed my sexual feelings, but I did not desire to have sexual contact with these or any other boys. My sexuality was deeply rooted in my diapers.

 

By the time I was in junior high school I did not express any interest in girls as did most of my classmates. Because of this, many of my classmates thought I was gay and treated me as such, calling me “faggot”, “queer” and other epithets, threatening violence. It was hell. By the time I was 15 years old I finally began to recognize girls the way my classmates had already done for the past few years and this was good enough to convince most of my classmates that I was not gay after all, but I was still seen as a hopeless loser who didn’t have a chance of scoring with even the ugliest girls in school. Because of my social awkwardness, my few attempts to pursue girls and seek dates with them were humiliating and unsuccessful, thereby forcing me to revert to my diapers and my thoughts about boys being diapered by girls as my primary sexual outlet. My diapers (multiple underpants) were familiar, dependable and they never betrayed me.

 

Throughout high school I kept my feelings about my diapers to myself and was content with these feelings. I did finally land myself a girlfriend, Carla, but only because I sought the assistance of my lifelong friend Justin, who had since moved and attended a different high school. I lost my virginity to this girl and thought I had a normal sex life, although I still indulged myself in my diapers. I never confided in Carla to know about my diaper fetish.

 

I dated Carla for about a year before she broke up with me. It would be several months before I would date again. The next girl I met was April, who captivated me with her charm. While this relation started out beautifully, it deteriorated as April took advantage of my generosity, giving me the false hope that I would be rewarded for my efforts. Such a pursuit to be rewarded and recognized for my efforts turned out to be futile and the relationship was ended.

 

Young Adult Years

 

I was in college, but like in high school, I had little social contact with anyone. I did not fellowship with other students outside of class and did not attend any parties or other functions, whether or not they were university-sanctioned events. I lived with my parents so I did not experience living in the dormitory.

 

I spent most of my free time at home, and when I was not studying my books or playing on my computer I would write diaper stories and make drawings of diapered boys and their sisters, sometimes using my computer for such drawings. It was a Tandy TRS-80 Color Computer 3, which had passable graphic capabilities, though crude by today’s standards. With my two sisters having moved out of the house, this afforded I more time to be alone, especially when my parents went out of town for the weekend. During these times I would prance around the house in multiple pairs of underwear and pooping in them just like I did as a little boy. I even made videos of myself (which have since been destroyed) with my video camera. This privacy allowed me to retain these materials unlike from when I was a child.

 

The “Purge”

 

1994 was the year of the “Purge”. During that spring I dated a girl named Ellen. She was my first real girlfriend since July of 1990 when I broke up with April (in between there were a number of failed attempts to hook up with girls, which led to me giving up on the whole dating thing). At the time I still didn't know about other people who were also into wearing diapers, as this was just before I first got on the Internet, which at the time was in its infancy (the Internet as we know it today, where it is accessible to the general public). After I got to know Ellen I thought they really hit it off well and I really felt confident that everything was finally going my way. I really thought and earnestly believed that she was “the one” and that fate had finally come through and was going to work in my favor for once.

 

Because of this elation and (foolishly) optimistic outlook towards spending time with Ellen, I felt that there was no place for my diapers in this relationship. All at once I tried to rid myself of these lifelong desires which were deeply and inextricably rooted in my childhood. In one fell swoop I burned my printed stories and my collection of clippings of diapered boys from magazine ads and photocopies from other sources. I erased every computer file I could find that had information about diapers, including artwork and photos. I tried not to look back as I had “burned my bridge” to pursue my life with Ellen.

 

While fighting off these urges it didn't feel natural to me. I felt like I was being forced to fit into a mold that was not cast for me. In spite of my vows to abandon my diaper-obsessed past, I knew that I just didn't feel like I was my real self. It was very difficult for me, but I was determined at the time to finally get a move-on with my life.

 

After about a month or so the relationship with Ellen collapsed I was once again back to where I was before, alone and dejected. Fate had duped me once again. My outlook towards dating once again looked hopeless and bleak, and to add insult to injury, I had gotten rid of most of my diaper-related materials. It took me some time to get back the things I got rid of when I tried to rid myself of my diaper fetish. A few items did survive the purge, though. I knew it would be difficult to regain what I once had. I was devastated.

 

Getting on the Internet

 

When I got on the Internet in August 1994 I discovered I was not alone. I was quite elated, to say the least to finally have a safe way to find others who were like me without exposing this part of me to a vast majority of people who would have likely ostracized me for having such interests. I was eager to jump in and share my experiences and share my imagination through the stories that I liked to write. I met many fine and fun people, some of whom still drop me a line once in awhile.

 

There weren't nearly as many online resources then, but there was enough to assure me that I was not alone. The primary resource for diaper lovers at the time was a Usenet newsgroup called alt.sex.fetish.diapers. At the time it served as a central point for diaper lovers and adult babies to share stories and talk about experiences and fantasies. Since then the web has grown exponentially and hundreds, if not thousands of web sites devoted to diaper fetishism have appeared (many have come and gone, of course). The Usenet group has long since deteriorated to a vast wasteland of spam posts.

 

DPF

 

Shortly after discovering alt.sex.fetish.diapers I learned about a club called Diaper Pail Friends (DPF). Having recently moved out on my own, I finally had full privacy and I could order diapers and other materials to be sent to an address I could call my very own. I immediately signed up on DPF and I made some postal exchanges with several of its members. I also ordered dozens of printed diaper stories. At the time DPF was also a primary source for diaper lovers. The proliferation of the web has since diluted DPF’s prominence and I am no longer listed there as a member, but I enjoyed my time being there.

 

The Birth and Growth of Deeker.com

 

On May 4, 1996, my web site made its official debut. I was ready to make my presence known on the web. Back then it was quite a modest site, primarily designed to showcase the three stories that I had written and posted to alt.sex.fetish.diapers at the time. Since then the web site has grown exponentially to include hundreds of stories and many new features such as Surveys, Diaper Sightings, Questions of the Week and Diaper Boy Drawings. I have exchanged emails with hundreds of diaper lovers of all ages and I have even met many of them in person (all adults, of course).

 

I chose the name “Deeker” simply by pronouncing my first initial “D” with the first two letters of my last name “Cr”. I know it’s a rather lame way to form an online moniker, but there it is, and it has stuck. If I had to do it all over again I’d likely choose “Yobrepaid”, which is “diaper boy” spelled backwards.

 

At the risk of tooting my own horn, I must acknowledge that the Deeker name has become widely recognized amongst the diaper lover/adult baby community. It stands as one of the few diaper web sites that has remained almost since the inception of the publicly-accessible Internet as we know it today.