My StoryAs I see it this forum is about wearing plastic or incontinence pants pants for either need and/or pleasure. Sexuality certainly plays a role in that one either finds the wearing of plastic pants to be a positive sexual thing or a total turn off. I know of a couple wherein the need for plastic protective underwear by one member of the couple so turned off the other that separate bedrooms became the norm while I’ve known of others in which they “made lemonade out of lemons” and plastic clothing became a part of their sexual excitement and play.
My situation falls somewhere in between. I am not incontinent, but my desire to wear plastic pants has evolved from a personal security feeling. Let me explain. I am 59. It starts many years ago when I was 11. I was a pillow hugger or cuddler when I slept. On the occasion of my first nocturnal emission I made quite a mess. I knew from sex education books that such events would one day begin, but I had no idea of the mess that would ensue. I tried cleaning up my bed and pjs and my pillow. I apparently used the wrong towels in the bathroom and that made my mother upset the next morning from the crusty stains on the towels. I was simply told to use a wet wash cloth next time with no other reference being made to anything related to the previous night’s subject. My pillow was ruined, I was given sheets to change the bed and my pjs went into the wash along with the sheets. I was then off to school. I also had learned that such wet dreams usually occurred every few nights and seldom two nights in a row. But I started to worry about the next mess I would make.
The next night, when going to bed, I found my parents had gotten me a new pillow and it was covered with a soft plastic pillow case under the cloth one. At least my worries of damaging my pillow were taken care of. When I hugged the pillow I could hear the soft rustle of the plastic and I found it comforting. The next few wet dreams still caused a mess, but it was much simpler to just put pjs and sheets in the wash pile and get new ones. Still I began to worry about the next messes anyway. Further I knew nothing about daily ************ as a way to control or stop wet dreams.
I eventually decided I could get more control of the mess by tying on a small sheet of plastic in the form of a diaper under my pjs and any mess would be contained in something easily washed with a wash cloth, that is; me and the plastic. Thus I tried this method for a few months and liked the security feeling it gave me. I didn’t wear the plastic every night. I usually waited for a couple of nights before starting after each wet dream as they usually occurred every 6 days or so. There was, during this period, one night when not wearing plastic or even pj bottoms that while hugging my pillow the cloth case slipped off and I was just hugging a plastic covered pillow. The soft slick feel of the plastic was rather nice and I certainly had, by this time, the security feelings from the plastic to add to my acceptance of a bare plastic pillow. I feel asleep hugging the pillow. During that night I had a dream about hugging a pretty girl in my school and woke up with a slipping an erection in a wet dream mess on my plastic covered pillow. Fortunately all of the mess was confined to the covered pillow and myself and I could wipe it up without anyone noticing. From then on I started to wear the “plastic tie diaper” every night.
I had seen incontinence plastic underpants and plastic bloomers in the adult incontinence section of the Sears and Roebuck catalog and decided they would be perfect for my wet dream mess security situation. Unfortunately at 11 or 12, or even 14 or fifteen there was no way I could purchase such items. Any time we were at a Sears store I tried to find them in the stores but they were mail order only items. I had also seen advertisements in the backs of Sunset and Good House Keeping magazine for the Stephanie Bowman plastic weight loss garments. They also appeared as though they might be of help. While Christmas shopping one year I had even seen those in a Sunset House store at a mall but again being with adults, there was no way I could buy them. I would have too much explaining to do as to why I wanted either plastic weight loss garments or plastic incontinent underpants.
My situation with nocturnal emissions, a plastic covered pillow, and my improvised “plastic tie diaper” continued until I moved away to college. Some time during the 8th grade – 9th grade period I had learned from sex education books that ************ was not dangerous or evil and I began to use it as a method of controlling when and where I made a climax mess. It was always during the night, in bed, while wearing my plastic protection and with my bed pillow also protected. I always made certain to put the pillow back in its cloth case in the morning and hide my plastic “diaper” and I never felt my parents knew about either.
When I moved away to college I was able to buy my own plastic pillow cases and plastic incontinence underwear. The college dorm beds came supplied with plastic mattress covers. I liked the feel of soft plastic so much by this time that I would sleep directly on the plastic mattress cover when ever my room mate was away for the weekends.
The Stephanie Bowman weight loss garments became a “thing of the past” and were no longer advertised or sold in the Sunset House stores. I still hope to some day find some of them tucked away in items brought out for an estate sale.
As you can likely conclude, the feelings of security along with my sexual development were closely tied to plastic under garments and the soft plastic protected feel of my pillow. Together they had led to my having a bit of a sexual “thing” for soft plastic clothing and bedding. I am certain that a plastic fetish is the correct term, but many definitions of a fetish and of fetish activities and interests suggest that a fetish is interconnected with and leads to such unacceptable social and maybe even illegal behavior that I have hesitated to accept the term.
My high school and early college dating was somewhat limited having only dated 4 or 5 girls until I met the girl that I would eventually marry. The second half of my explanation of the interconnection between my wearing plastic pants, the feelings of security, and the development of the connection between liking plastic pants and life as a married adult will have to wait until I have time for more typing.