Teen years, sexuality and diapers
1966 to 1972
From top to bottom
1) Thick diaper under heavy navy blue wool fabrics shorts age 18 (The picture and age are real except the thickness of the diaper that I added, it definitely shows what my shorts looked like when I was diapered)
2) Age 17 in scout uniform with my very short leather shorts. I was already making sure I had no body hair
3) Age 16, I would, from time to time go on a scout outing with a diaper under my shorts
4) 1972, age 18. How much I loved wearing those thick leather shorts, sometimes with a diaper underneath, I still wore them six years later.
I gave them away in 1978 when I left the scouts and made someone happy. They were really hard-wearing, the one I gave them to still wore them in the mid-1980s. My parents bought them for me in 1967 for my 14th birthday.
I often wondered during this period why I was like that, so different from the rest of the world, the only boy who liked to wear diapers. I could not be normal, I had a serious vice, was I a pervert? And yet I waited with trepidation for the too rare moments when I could wear some again. The moments when my parents left for a few days, or even a week or two, with my brother and my sisters, leaving me alone with my grandparents, with whom we lived.
I often wondered during this period why I was like that, so different from the rest of the world, the only boy who liked to wear diapers. I could not be normal, I had a serious vice, was I a pervert? And yet I waited with trepidation for the too rare moments when I could wear some again. The moments when my parents left for a few days, or even a week or two, with my brother and my sisters, leaving me alone with my grandparents, with whom we lived.
With hindsight, I realize how badly and delayed my mental (not physically) sexual development was being totally crushed and repressed by the education received which made no reference to it other than the terrible prohibitions that were instilled in us. Masturbation was prohibited, a mortal sin, "the sexual act must be reserved for your future wife" could I read in the scout books. Fool and gullible that I was! I never even knew what masturbation meant and I believed these prohibitions as "divine word".
With hindsight, I realize how badly and delayed my mental (not physically) sexual development was being totally crushed and repressed by the education received which made no reference to it other than the terrible prohibitions that were instilled in us. Masturbation was prohibited, a mortal sin, "the sexual act must be reserved for your future wife" could I read in the scout books. Fool and gullible that I was! I never even knew what masturbation meant and I believed these prohibitions as "divine word".
Nocturnal pollutions, with the pleasure they produced, were the only involuntary sexual manifestations of this whole period. Contradiction of pleasure and of the deep shame of the forbidden. Too rare exceptional pleasures when they occurred whilst wearing a diaper.
Nocturnal pollutions, with the pleasure they produced, were the only involuntary sexual manifestations of this whole period. Contradiction of pleasure and of the deep shame of the forbidden. Too rare exceptional pleasures when they occurred whilst wearing a diaper.
Homosexuality was totally unknown in my world, a word never spoken, never explained. It was only decriminalized in 1982 in France.
Homosexuality was totally unknown in my world, a word never spoken, never explained. It was only decriminalized in 1982 in France.
I only attended boys' schools, weekends were spent in Scouting activities, which I liked a lot, and that were again amongst boys only. All my friends were boys. Beside my two sisters, not a girl on the horizon. Until the age of 17 I still wore shorts at school when the weather was good or if we had boy scouts activities in the evening. At that time short were worn very short, leaving most of the thighs exposed. I liked the sight of other boys’ thighs, especially when those boys were slim and well-shaped. Unconsciously my gaze also often drifted towards the bulge at the front of shorts where puberty and the effect of boys raging hormones were making themselves visible, and I also liked other boys’ cute bums.
I only attended boys' schools, weekends were spent in Scouting activities, which I liked a lot, and that were again amongst boys only. All my friends were boys. Beside my two sisters, not a girl on the horizon. Until the age of 17 I still wore shorts at school when the weather was good or if we had boy scouts activities in the evening. At that time short were worn very short, leaving most of the thighs exposed. I liked the sight of other boys’ thighs, especially when those boys were slim and well-shaped. Unconsciously my gaze also often drifted towards the bulge at the front of shorts where puberty and the effect of boys raging hormones were making themselves visible, and I also liked other boys’ cute bums.
My friends and I would often walk, very close together, arms over shoulders or behind each other’s back, talking animatedly. Our sides and naked thighs would touch but it was just young boys’ friendship.
My friends and I would often walk, very close together, arms over shoulders or behind each other’s back, talking animatedly. Our sides and naked thighs would touch but it was just young boys’ friendship.
However, I had no benchmark nor warning signals about a possible homosexuality since this notion was unknown to me. In my young mind I would get married one day and have children. I did marry and have children. It is only decades later that my blind eyes opened, and I understood I was gay.
However, I had no benchmark nor warning signals about a possible homosexuality since this notion was unknown to me. In my young mind I would get married one day and have children. I did marry and have children. It is only decades later that my blind eyes opened, and I understood I was gay.
Parallel to this love of diapers, I had deep in me the strong need to wear shorts trousers, most likely another expression of my unconscious refusal to grow up. Even though teen fashion had started to change in France from the beginning of the 1960s with regards to wearing shorts at school, I continued wearing shorts (although not my leather ones) most of the time until I was 16, end of junior high, I was in a Catholic school. Several of my boy scout friends would also still wear shorts at school as soon as the weather was good enough. During our freshman year at high school (same school) we would still wear shorts at school when the weather was warm or when we had boys scouts activities in the evening (not unlike teenagers do today, even at college although with bermuda shorts rather than short shorts).
Parallel to this love of diapers, I had deep in me the strong need to wear shorts trousers, most likely another expression of my unconscious refusal to grow up. Even though teen fashion had started to change in France from the beginning of the 1960s with regards to wearing shorts at school, I continued wearing shorts (although not my leather ones) most of the time until I was 16, end of junior high, I was in a Catholic school. Several of my boy scout friends would also still wear shorts at school as soon as the weather was good enough. During our freshman year at high school (same school) we would still wear shorts at school when the weather was warm or when we had boys scouts activities in the evening (not unlike teenagers do today, even at college although with bermuda shorts rather than short shorts).
It was not unusual for us to still come to school in shorts during our sophomore year when the weather was warm to hot in September or in the following spring.
It was not unusual for us to still come to school in shorts during our sophomore year when the weather was warm to hot in September or in the following spring.
I may have transferred to wearing shorts which was still somewhat acceptable the fact that it was difficult for me to find the opportunity to wear diapers.
I may have transferred to wearing shorts which was still somewhat acceptable the fact that it was difficult for me to find the opportunity to wear diapers.
In any case a connection had naturally been made very early in my mind between both.I liked to go for walks with a diaper under my shorts. I loved the feeling of the diaper padding compressed by my thick wool cloth, leather or corduroy shorts. What a pleasure to wet myself without anyone noticing. Sometimes, when I knew that I could wash myself when I got home, I would also poop my diaper.
In any case a connection had naturally been made very early in my mind between both.I liked to go for walks with a diaper under my shorts. I loved the feeling of the diaper padding compressed by my thick wool cloth, leather or corduroy shorts. What a pleasure to wet myself without anyone noticing. Sometimes, when I knew that I could wash myself when I got home, I would also poop my diaper.
Another sign of my psychological imbalance, of a refusal to leave childhood, when hairs started to appear on my legs around the age of 17 my disturbed mind did not accept them. I have no idea how this solution came to my mind, but I found and bought hair removal cream which was the start of a permanent struggle against those big ugly body hairs that I hated.
Another sign of my psychological imbalance, of a refusal to leave childhood, when hairs started to appear on my legs around the age of 17 my disturbed mind did not accept them. I have no idea how this solution came to my mind, but I found and bought hair removal cream which was the start of a permanent struggle against those big ugly body hairs that I hated.
Disposable diapers, of course, did not yet exist at that time in France. Going, from time to time to Paris by train, I walked past the Bally Pharmacy and had discovered, in their front window, the wonderful, well padded, waterproof pants exposed on display mannequins. This is where, far enough from home, I could safely buy my "baby" pants at my size, pull up ones to avoid leaks, big and wide enough at the crotch to cover my thick diapers.
Disposable diapers, of course, did not yet exist at that time in France. Going, from time to time to Paris by train, I walked past the Bally Pharmacy and had discovered, in their front window, the wonderful, well padded, waterproof pants exposed on display mannequins. This is where, far enough from home, I could safely buy my "baby" pants at my size, pull up ones to avoid leaks, big and wide enough at the crotch to cover my thick diapers.
The local Prisunic, one kilometer from our house, offered an inexhaustible supply of baby cellulose padding rolls and there was a good supply of old sheets, in the basement of our house that provided me with the necessary rectangles of thick white fabric that I used to make my diaper, snugly tied, being now an expert, by diaper pins.
The local Prisunic, one kilometer from our house, offered an inexhaustible supply of baby cellulose padding rolls and there was a good supply of old sheets, in the basement of our house that provided me with the necessary rectangles of thick white fabric that I used to make my diaper, snugly tied, being now an expert, by diaper pins.
What an eternally renewed pleasure it was to unfold this piece of white sheet on my bed, to unroll several layers of cellulose padding on it, then lie down on its soft thickness with trepidation and delight and pull the lot over my lower abdomen and my hard penis, making sure it was well shaped at the crotch, tight around my pelvis and at the waist and securely fastened by two diaper pins on each side (I already liked and still today like very well fitted and fitting diapers). Hardly had my waterproof pants been pulled up, I would let my full bladder empty in the thirsty padding. What an immense pleasure to feel the wet warmth spread over my lower abdomen, expands between my thigh and go up my padded bum! Standing in front of a mirror, I could not help watching every time with relish this growing boy in a thick diaper that he eagerly stroked with his hands.
What an eternally renewed pleasure it was to unfold this piece of white sheet on my bed, to unroll several layers of cellulose padding on it, then lie down on its soft thickness with trepidation and delight and pull the lot over my lower abdomen and my hard penis, making sure it was well shaped at the crotch, tight around my pelvis and at the waist and securely fastened by two diaper pins on each side (I already liked and still today like very well fitted and fitting diapers). Hardly had my waterproof pants been pulled up, I would let my full bladder empty in the thirsty padding. What an immense pleasure to feel the wet warmth spread over my lower abdomen, expands between my thigh and go up my padded bum! Standing in front of a mirror, I could not help watching every time with relish this growing boy in a thick diaper that he eagerly stroked with his hands.
If it was bed time I would put, in winter, my pajamas on or just stay in diapers during the summer, if not, I would dress in a short-sleeved shirt, if necessary a sweater and put on one of my shorts to go and play or ride my bike if the weather permitted.
If it was bed time I would put, in winter, my pajamas on or just stay in diapers during the summer, if not, I would dress in a short-sleeved shirt, if necessary a sweater and put on one of my shorts to go and play or ride my bike if the weather permitted.
Getting rid of my dirty diapers was the most difficult part, especially as I was getting bigger and my diapers bulkier. Garbage was collected once a week, plastic bag did not exist back then, wastes were thrown directly into the trash bin. Brainless that I was, I several times tried to get rid of the soiled cellulose padding in the toilets, blocking the drain each time. My mother had to put her rubber gloves on to unclog them and recover the guilty padding. You can imagine that I was not proud of myself, however she never really scolded me (as far as my selective memory allows me to remember). I had to use very elaborate tactics to go, in the middle of the night, and hide my used diapers at the bottom of the trash bins that had already been taken out onto the curb the previous evening as the garbage collectors came very early in the morning, all this without the large, heavy, rusty garage side metal gate of the property creaking.
Getting rid of my dirty diapers was the most difficult part, especially as I was getting bigger and my diapers bulkier. Garbage was collected once a week, plastic bag did not exist back then, wastes were thrown directly into the trash bin. Brainless that I was, I several times tried to get rid of the soiled cellulose padding in the toilets, blocking the drain each time. My mother had to put her rubber gloves on to unclog them and recover the guilty padding. You can imagine that I was not proud of myself, however she never really scolded me (as far as my selective memory allows me to remember). I had to use very elaborate tactics to go, in the middle of the night, and hide my used diapers at the bottom of the trash bins that had already been taken out onto the curb the previous evening as the garbage collectors came very early in the morning, all this without the large, heavy, rusty garage side metal gate of the property creaking.
Several times I went on a scout outing with a diaper under my shorts. Rectangular or T-shaped Inserts for babies had been put on the market, by putting two of them in my plastic pants instead of my usual thick diaper made my diaper hardly visible under my shorts, especially when, the previous shorts having become too small I could no longer fit in them, or being too patched up, my mother was forced to buy new bigger ones.
Several times I went on a scout outing with a diaper under my shorts. Rectangular or T-shaped Inserts for babies had been put on the market, by putting two of them in my plastic pants instead of my usual thick diaper made my diaper hardly visible under my shorts, especially when, the previous shorts having become too small I could no longer fit in them, or being too patched up, my mother was forced to buy new bigger ones.
Sometimes replacement shorts were a hand me down from some of my parents’ friends own boys, sometimes they were new but always two sizes too big, as was usual then, to last for years. A pair of shorts would last me at least three years during my fast-growing years and would only be replaced when they were so tight around my bum and bulge that my Mum would give up, and shorts were shorts, 2, maximum 3 inches inseam were the norm in France.
Sometimes replacement shorts were a hand me down from some of my parents’ friends own boys, sometimes they were new but always two sizes too big, as was usual then, to last for years. A pair of shorts would last me at least three years during my fast-growing years and would only be replaced when they were so tight around my bum and bulge that my Mum would give up, and shorts were shorts, 2, maximum 3 inches inseam were the norm in France.
It is difficult for young people today to understand that we had very limited clothing. My wardrobe consisted of a few shirts and short-sleeved shirts, two sweaters, including one for scouts and three shorts pants, one in leather, one in navy blue corduroy, one in thick navy blue or gray woolen cloth. Two undershirts, a few white briefs, three pairs of long wool socks for the winter, three pairs of short socks for the summer and, for the weekly sports hour at school, very very short blue canvas shorts. A warm navy-blue pea coat for the winter, a sailor’s raincoat for summer’s rainy days. No hat (apart from my scout one), no gloves.
It is difficult for young people today to understand that we had very limited clothing. My wardrobe consisted of a few shirts and short-sleeved shirts, two sweaters, including one for scouts and three shorts pants, one in leather, one in navy blue corduroy, one in thick navy blue or gray woolen cloth. Two undershirts, a few white briefs, three pairs of long wool socks for the winter, three pairs of short socks for the summer and, for the weekly sports hour at school, very very short blue canvas shorts. A warm navy-blue pea coat for the winter, a sailor’s raincoat for summer’s rainy days. No hat (apart from my scout one), no gloves.
I have always struggled at school (I fortunately caught up in my professional life), I was 16 when I started high school, still wearing shorts almost all year round, to my delight, and I was far from being the only one. I attended Boy Scouts to the age of nearly 25, in 1978, having been a Scout Master for over 6 years. I would wear shorts on weekends, all year round, as well as on holidays, including at home every time I could. It was nothing unusual at that time.
I have always struggled at school (I fortunately caught up in my professional life), I was 16 when I started high school, still wearing shorts almost all year round, to my delight, and I was far from being the only one. I attended Boy Scouts to the age of nearly 25, in 1978, having been a Scout Master for over 6 years. I would wear shorts on weekends, all year round, as well as on holidays, including at home every time I could. It was nothing unusual at that time.
"It is not through the legs that one catches a cold" were we told over and over again when one dared to complain about having to wear shorts, and this was true, we were used to the cold, we just needed our feet and upper body to be warm.
"It is not through the legs that one catches a cold" were we told over and over again when one dared to complain about having to wear shorts, and this was true, we were used to the cold, we just needed our feet and upper body to be warm.