[Non-Fiction] Making a Diaper Sammich

[EndlessElljay]

On 4/19, fellow user sissydiaper boomed me (jerkhole!) on a Cumulative AB/DL Dare. The following is a report of the dare, picture proof of which can be seen on my identically named KinkTalk profile.

First, THE REQUIREMENTS, rewritten because I feel like it (don’t judge me, judgy mcjudgeface!):

Pre-Dare:

1. Put on a double diaper. You must wear it until it leaks.
2. One hour prior, take a large dose of laxative/castor oil.
3. Coat your innermost diaper with PB&J.

The Dare:

1. Drink half a liter of water every hour.
2. Eat at least one cereal bowl’s worth of baby food before leaking.
3. Watch baby shows.
4. You are not allowed to walk.
5. When not eating, you must drink from a bottle or suck on a pacifier.
6. If you mess, smush your diapers and rub it all around.

Post-Dare:

1. Wipe as much PB&J as you can onto bread.
2. Eat your new sandwich.

Needless to say, I was nervous (mainly for that ending challenge, which my dumb, soon-to-be diapered ass added). However, an opportunity presented itself that Friday, so I knew it was time to attempt…

THE BABY SAMMICH CHALLENGE

Approximately one hour before the dare, I downed half a bottle of magnesium citrate oral laxative, taken with a glass of water as directed. I pulled out my trusty bottle and paci and grabbed two slices of bread, all of which I put to the side. I also laid out some towels…you know, just in case. It’s not like I’m subtly foreshadowing anything. Then, I got to work.

First: the baby food. Since this was supposed to be a challenge, not simply a stroll in the park, I mixed a jar of Gerber Carrots with Gerber Green Beans. The concoction looked vaguely reminiscent of diarrhea, and smelled about as bad, which is perhaps appropriate for the dare in question.

Next: the diapers. I cut four small slits in the innermost diaper to allow drainage. Then, I grabbed the sandwich material. It took three spoonfuls of peanut butter and about as much jelly, but I coated the diaper fairly well (enough to please those in the original dare thread, I believe).

Finally: the wearing. After powdering up, I sat down in the first diaper and put it on. It was cold, and the jelly immediately started smushing into my various bodily crevasses. I imagined if this was what bread felt like, then slapped myself for temporarily turning into a hippie. I put the second diaper on over it, which spread my legs apart just enough that I knew my knees wouldn’t be touching for a little while.

With my pacifier in and Sophia the First playing on Netflix, I started the dare proper at 11PM. Thanks to the liquid laxative from earlier, I already had to go, so I let loose and let the diaper expand. Though a sizeable amount came out, it wasn’t enough to make the first diaper leak. I knew I was in for a journey.

My first step was to down the baby food. I figured it would be a struggle, so I didn’t want to delay it until a more dangerous point in the dare. The first bite was disgusting, a mushy mix of misery and high nutritional value, but it wasn’t bad enough to make me gag. By switching between the paste and sips of water, I was able to get through the bowl in about 10 minutes.

It took about 15 more minutes, but I was finally able to wet again. It wasn’t much, but I could feel my diapers growing. However, I’d reached my first real predicament: no more water. Adhering to the strict no walking rule, I took my bottle (as well as a normal cup, which I was using to transfer water into the bottle) and crawled to the kitchen. My god, I need to clean the house; random junk was everywhere, and my knees kept digging into random bits of pain. It was like a LEGO hell, but worse since LEGO are at least colorful and fun. I eventually made it to the kitchen, filled my bottle and cup, and crawled back the room, but I was not excited to do that again.

For the next half hour or so, things stayed the course. I kept drinking, and the pee kept coming. However, at 12:05, the next predicament hit: the laxative from earlier started to kick in. Oh fuck. Oh fuck oh fuck oh fuck. I was hoping it wouldn’t work this fast. I was still in control, but my colon was starting its coup. Much like the Egyptian government, my anus was in for a violent takeover.

My diapers were fairly wet, and I figured (read: prayed to the diaper punishment gods) that I would leak after my next major release. Unfortunately, bad news came at 12:16. I wet myself again, a fairly large amount, but it simply wasn’t enough. It seems my outer diaper was dryer than I thought. The cramps were getting faster, and I did NOT want to eat a poopy sandwich, so it’s perhaps redundant to say that I was reaching peak anxiety.

Drink, bitch! Drink! I was a fiend, downing as much water as I could in an attempt to leak faster. I crawled to the kitchen again, my diaper drooping toward the floor, and refilled my reserves. The cramps got worse every minute, and it was getting difficult to keep my backdoor closed. Worst of all, it had reached the point where every time I tried to pee, poop wanted to come out right along with it. It felt like I was in divorce court, my bladder and colon fighting for custody over my self-esteem.

12:34: the day the Earth stood still. My body was tired, and my will finally broke. Riiiiiip. My diaper expanded rapidly, a gooey substance covering my rear. It came with liquid, mixing into a concoction that began leaking out of my diaper, dripping down my legs. The smell came fast, and with it, the sadness. It was over. I lost.

I crawled to the bathroom, using my path of towels to avoid dripping on the carpet, and removed my diaper. Inside was a soupy mixture of peanut butter, urine, and scat. The jelly, as far as I can tell, had escaped, probably to find a better home. Jelly has standards, after all.

But now, the true challenge: sandwich time. With poop still dripping from my rear, I took the bread and rubbed it along the diaper. I took the rules seriously and focused solely on spots that looked like peanut butter still, and though my final meal was not as disgusting as some doms might hope, I still soaked up quite a bit of anal broth. But did it taste good? Om nom NO IT DID NOT. Though it wasn’t as bad as it could have been, primarily due to the bread, my rocks certainly weren’t being jollied.

After a day of reflection, I’d be lying if I said I didn’t love this dare. Double diaper challenges are always fun, but the sandwich element added a new dimension of terror and fun that I didn’t expect. Next time I attempt this, I might even go for a harsher punishment, but for now I’m very content with the experience. Thank you, sissybaby, and all the other crazy people from the Cumulative AB/DL Dare thread!