"is the desire to wear diapers and be treated as a helpless infant. One who engages in infantilistic play is known as an adult baby (AB) or teen baby (TB), depending on age. About one in three adult babies is also a diaper lover (DL), so they are collectively known as AB/DLs. The majority of infantilists are heterosexual males. Paraphilic infantilism and diaper fetishes differ in self-image and the focus of attention. However, they can coexist in individuals and have some similarities in practice. Neither include a sexual preference for children. There is no singular, archetypical infantilism, but a range. Some fantasize about being free of guilt, responsibility, or control while others might not. Some act indistinguishably from a baby at times, while others practice in a way that would be unnoticed by passers by on the street. The desires and tastes of infantilists vary around common themes of diapers and babyhood."
* From: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Paraphilic_infantilism
Picture a white man in his early to mid-thirties, average looking, average build/height. Completely nondescript. He had light brown hair cut in a short typically corporate style. He always came wearing a nice mid length black leather jacket and jeans. He would not stand out if it weren't for the way he behaved himself.
He would visit the porn theatre nearly every evening. He would wander the hallways in a slow and quiet manner. To say that he snuck around would be rather accurate. He always gave me the creeps when I would see him peer into my window. He would just stare blankly at me. I would smile and wave to him but he would just stand there staring without any discernible emotion. Sometimes he would come into the booth but then leave without a word moments later only to go back to the theatre.
One day he decided to come into my booth for real this time. He entered his money and the window raised. I motioned for him to pick up the phone so I could speak to him.
He moved in a very slow and deliberate manner. He picked up the phone and said "hi"
He spoke very quietly and in a low tone. Is was obvious that he didn't want to be overheard. When I responded to his greeting he simply shot me another one and attempted a smile. It was a strange and strained smile. Obviously not something he was used to and the effect did little to compliment his face. In fact it almost seemed like a grimace more than a smile.
I know I say this a lot, but he was strange.
He just watched me dance around a bit but he wasn't terribly concerned about what I did or if I removed anything or not. When given the option I always chose to leave my clothing on. I felt no need to bother much if they didn't care much, and yes I am guilty of only doing as much as necessary.
He whispered into the phone: "Can I show you something?"
I hesitated not really wanting to see anything: "Sure."
He undid his zipper and allowed his jeans to fall just down to his hips.
He pulled back his jacket to show that he was wearing a diaper. He reached just inside the waist band of the diaper to pull up some strange nylon panties.
He asked: "You see them?"
"Yes I do." I answered.
"Don't you think I am weird?"He asked.
Time for the lie: "No, why would you think that?"
He made that grimace/smile again and a short horse like snort.
He then began rubbing the front of his diaper in a bizarre fashion. He was actually using the diaper and nylon panties to stimulate himself.
After a very short time he asked: "Can I show you something?"
I pretty much knew where this was going and as much as I didn't want to see this, I had a strange morbid curiosity. I mean, sure I would rather him fuck right off with his diaper but then again he was paying me. This was a true test of my gag reflex. Could I hold back the vomit rising and threatening to erupt?
He turned around and pushed his pants all the way to his ankles. He also, to my surprise, pushed the diaper down as well. The he proceeded to foul up his nylon panties and diaper. Fortunately the lighting in the booths are very dim so not much could be seen. Since he had his back to me, I was able to stifle a gag before he turned to look at me. He had that weird grimace again and he muttered "Baby made messy."
"You need someone to change you don't you?" I asked, not really wanting to know any details but trying to distract myself from the foetid odor that somehow found a way to waft into my side of the booth through the Plexiglas.
"Yes, So far I do it for myself. I would prefer another to do it for me of course." He said.
We had a little more small talk but then his time had run out in the booth.
He thanked me then he proceeded not to the bathroom but back to the theatre.
Ugh! He wasn't going to clean himself? That is far from sanitary and just plain repulsive.
So I called the custodian and asked him to Lysol the hell out of that side. The custodian came to the booth and opened the door and immediately he went running out from the booth waving his hand to his nose trying to wave away the odoriferous ass fragrance. He stood outside the booth and pointed the can at the door and sprayed an ungodly amount of Lysol. When the fumes began to choke me out he stopped and went to get a fan.
After awhile the custodian came back he asked me what the hell the stench was. After I told him he replied: "So that is why the theatre smells like rotting ass right now. I am going to have to
kick him out if he is going to go in their after shitting himself. I bet he does this all the time, this is why no one in the theatre likes him, he fucking reeks."
Like as if on cue two customers emerge from the theatre to complain about the man's stink. He used this as an excuse to go in there and ask the man to leave, so that the man didn't blame me for it. The custodian was good at being discreet so as to not ruin our efforts to make money.
The diaper man came back into my booth instead of leaving and bought another show as if oblivious to the fact he had just been kicked out. The staff let him stay in my booth but when he was finished they escorted him out.
The man continued to come around like clockwork, and behaved in the same strange manner. Slinking around the hallways, peeking in he booths.... He occasionally bought shows from me and one other girl but pretty much just stuck to the theatre.
There is something entirely bizarre about a grown an able man shitting himself and wearing diapers that makes my skin crawl.
