Porn is this:
1. Sexually explicit pictures, writing, or other material whose primary purpose is to cause sexual arousal.
That does not make any sense. For those who are DLs, it is sexual. We get aroused by the fact that someone is in a diaper- and in effect we can surely get off on the story.
So- all stories with diapers in them, on this site, would be considered 'porn' by that definition.
Jordan had a look on her face that told me she wanted only one thing. She inched closer to my face. I could feel her warm breath against me as she untaped my diaper and began massaging me. I just went along with it, seeing as there was not much else that could be done. Before I knew it, everything was over.
“Pa, pa, you said…” I began.
“Ssshhhh, Violet, we had a deal.” he told me in a hushed whisper.
“B-b-bu--” I couldn’t finish, my tears choked me, they streamed down my face and were soaked up by the pillow.
He covered my mouth, and I couldn’t protest anymore. If I did live with mom, we could go to the movies, we could go to the mall, I thought to myself as his bony fingers dug into my sides. The headboard hit the wall, and I had to wonder how Grans didn’t hear anything, I knew she was a deep sleeper, but sometimes there was just so much noise that it would be impossible to ignore.
“Now remember Violet,” he said to me while walking away, “we have a deal, and if you break that deal - you know what happens.”
“Pa, please, why - you said - you said last time, it was the last, you said,” I tried to reason in a hoarse whisper.
‘Remember what I said,” he told me in a firm tone, as he walked out of my bedroom, shutting the door softly behind him.
“Daddy,” I said with a warning tone, “We’re in a park.” His fingers through the baby-wipe sent shocks of pure ecstasy through my body. He continued to clean my body with several wipes, allowing his fingers to linger on my most vulnerable and sensitive parts. I threw my head back and pressed my tongue hard against my cheek. “Daddy,” I whispered, pleading that he stop before I wasn’t able to. I heard him grunt, and felt him move the wipe down my other leg quickly. I heard him digging through the bag, and I felt him raise my hips with his hand. He slipped a diaper under me, and pulled it between my legs. I felt him splash some baby oil on me, and couldn’t help but notice he didn’t rub it in like he usually does, I didn’t blame him.
“You’ve been such a good girl for daddy today,” he told me, leaning his face towards mine, and brushing his lips briefly over my forehead, and then down to my ear. “I’m so proud of my little princess,” he whispered into my ear, his hot breath so close to my neck it made my hair stand on end, and my nipples erect. As his lips made their way down my nose, to my lips, my chin, my neck, the throbbing also followed, making its way down to my southern most private regions. I put both arms around his neck and scooted up, wrapping my legs around his.
“You’re a great daddy,” I said softly, allowing my lips to meet his once again. Our breathing was simultaneous, and our bodies moved as one. I lowered myself, and I felt his hard manliness push between my thighs, entering me gently. His hips moved swiftly and neatly, and I allowed mine to follow the rhythm of his. I moaned ever so slightly, and heard him do the same. He thrusted in and out, and I arched my back, moaning a bit louder this time. His lips moved from mine down to my breasts and he licked them ever so gently, still moving in and out of me. I felt him release, and then the warmth spread inside me. He collapsed onto me, and we both panted for air. I buried my head into his neck and whispered to him.
“I love you so much, Paul.”
“I love every inch of you, Juliette, and don’t you ever forget it.” He whispered back, rolling over. We lay side by side for a while, just pressing our bodies against each other for warmth. My knees were weak, and I was afraid if I tried to walk, or even move I’d fall over. The insides of my thighs were sore from the pleasure that radiated throughout my body, and I couldn’t get rid of the smile that was painted so brightly on my face.
I think that as long you don't go down the deker or DPF route of story telling, you'll be okay. Most on here consider such things to be distasteful/perverted.
But then what about violence, like very graphical detail about a violent act? Could you write some highly graphical account of murdering someone?