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Found 12 results

  1. Do you eat a specific diet. I am a vegan, have been for going on 5 years and before that I was a vegetarian for 10 years. I was wondering if there are any other AB/DL, Mommies or Daddies that are vegan or vegetarian?
  2. Hey all, I thought I’d drop this here to get some fresh feedback and hopefully kick my motivation back into gear as I would really like to get this on flowing again. I’ll try and update one or two chapters at a time. I also have this posted elsewhere, so if you feel that it’s familiar... you’re probably right. There will be flashback chapters involved which I will try to identify with italics or something else where possible. Chapter 1 Annabelle knelt on the pink, woven mat. The strands of the mat dug into her knees and calves, the muscles of her thighs tightened to support her weight. The cold surface of the painted wall rested firmly against her nose, as her eyes searched for something to look at and distract her idle mind. The short skirt rested at the top of her heels and the lower part of the thigh while the pink shirt that she was wearing had tightened around her chest and had risen, exposing her waist and lower back. Behind her, Kyle stood still. His phone in his hand in order to set the timer indicating how long Annabelle punishment would last. The swear word that had gotten her into this situation was 4 letters long and the first letter was the sixth letter in the alphabet, dictating a twenty-four-minute duration for the punishment. Kyle watched as her body slowly began to shake, the strain from her muscles echoing throughout her body. He walked away to continue the preparations for the pair's dinner, while Annabelle was left to remain where she was for the remaining time. Annabelle and Kyle had been living together for six months prior to this point and had been romantically connected after they met online only three months prior. Kyle spent his days working from home as a website developer, conveniently able to keep watch on Annabelle who was unemployed by day and his little princess by night. The two met through the kink equivalent of Facebook, Fetlife; a place for people who enjoy something more, to meet, learn and explore themselves. They supported each other through good times and tough ones too, Annabelle had been diagnosed with a form of depressive disorder. Dealing with this illness and supporting Annabelle through it had been new challenges for Kyle and he never left her side, even when things became difficult. BEEP! BEEP! BEEP! The alarm rang, excitement filled Annabelle's chest as she heard Kyle's steps moving through the kitchen towards her. Each step Kyle took excited Annabelle further, the vibrations continued up her legs and into her chest, fuelling the butterflies. Coarse fingers snuck over her shoulder, gently gripping her chin and guiding her nose away from the wall. Craning her neck to follow her guided chin, her eyes meet up with his, the darkness of his iris' bejewelled by a ring of emerald green. She stared long and deep into his eyes, waiting for his voice to grace her waiting ears. "Annabelle," Kyle spoke firmly. "Yes, Daddy?" She responded almost dreamily. "Why did Daddy have to put you into the corner?" He asked, remaining firm yet still presenting a cheerful manner. "B'cause I swore and said naughty words," Annabelle responded childishly. "Good girl." Kyle praised, he slowly straightened his back while guiding the little girl in front of him from her knees and onto her feet. As Annabelle straightened up she was pulled into a strong and warm embrace, the warmth from his chest spreading through her body remedying her pain from the extended kneeling and re-enforcing the praise given. The small gesture signified a lot to Annabelle, it was love, forgiveness, faith, and dedication all crammed into a single action. A small sadness formed when his hold loosened and he released her but she knew there would be more to come later. "Come on princess, set the table for me and dinner will be ready soon," Kyle said, issuing a task as if he were talking to a child. Kyle and Annabelle went on with their duties and Annabelle found her seat at the table once it was set. Without much of a wait, Kyle brought out a chicken parmigiana with mashed potatoes and vegetables. While the portion of each serving was the same, there was a segmented, Disney princess plate with the roughly chopped parmigiana was sat in front of Annabelle, clearly indicating her childlike status. "Daddy!" she said irritably, her face puffing up with a brewing tantrum running shallow beneath her skin. "I wanna eat big wif you tonight". The whining continued. With a strict, stern tone he put a stop with it, turning the tantrum red into a shade of embarrassment. "Anna bear, you aren't nearly old enough to use such big cutlery or eat proper food. If you want to throw such a babyish tantrum I won’t hesitate to bring out the blender." He knew the threat of baby mush would stop her in her tracks, she had pushed him before and the result was less than pleasant for her. Silenced and put in place, Annabelle commenced eating using just the smaller fork provided to her by Kyle, it was pink and had Minnie Mouse stickers on it, the prongs blunt and shorter than normal forks. As she began eating she felt a soft urge building in her lower stomach, she knew what it meant although didn't want to announce it, even if it was just her and Kyle. As his mouthful was being consumed, he eyed off his little princess, he noticed the awkward squirming right from the start and knew the tell-tale sign. "Princess..." he started as he swallowed his mouthful, "Do you need to potty?" He saw the wave of red rush across her face, telling him how right he was. He knew that the pink, princess pull-up was dry as he had seen it when she had been bending over to set the table. Annabelle hesitated when he said "Potty", for her it was a word that brought on high levels of humiliation and a certain level of truth. As a kid, she had always had bladder problems and wet the bed until her later teens. Her parents had tried several different solutions although the only consistently effective practice was a plastic sheet and thick terry nappies. As she had grown older she rebelled and often refused the night time protection, even with soaking wet outcome in the morning. When she met Kyle, nothing changed until after she had slept with him. The morning after, as a result of Annabelle’s rebellion, both of them were drenched in pee. To Annabelle's surprise, Kyle's reaction was a fresh mix of admonishment and compassion, a reaction that she had never experienced before. Chapter 2 (Flashback) *** "Is this a regular thing for you? Peeing in someone’s bed?" Kyle asked calmly, causing the blood in her cheeks to rise in embarrassment. He knew that she wasn't going to answer without some provocation. Gently he braced his fingers beneath her chin, raising her vision until she had no choice but to look at him. He didn't say a word. The silence his weapon of choice. His previous question echoed in his eyes until she could no longer withhold her response. "No. Not someone else's bed at least." Annabelle mumbled, hoping that her undertones would satisfy Kyle's questioning. "Speak up Anna, I can’t understand mumbling." Undertones of an order ran through Kyle's voice as he grew impatient for an answer. Annabelle squashed down her hesitation and repeated herself so that he could hear. Her cheeks blushed as she finished, she had never had to talk about this with someone before. Kyle processed her answer, he assumed that the accidents as being normal for her and not wanting to cause too much discomfort he left his questioning there. "Go have a shower, I'll clean this up. When you're done getting dressed and I'll meet you downstairs." He said in his positive manner, no trace of the ordering tones but there was no room left for her to debate. As she slowly got up and walked towards the bathroom, Kyle set to stripping his mattress and setting them aside for his trip to the laundromat later in the day. He went downstairs and started to prepare some breakfast for the both of them. Meanwhile, in the shower, Annabelle was trying to process the conversation. Her predictions of disgust and anger had been squashed by his understanding and lack of judgment. Her mind zoned out under the water, the soothing hot water removing the urine from her body and the false fears from her mind. Upon coming out of her blank daydream, Annabelle exited the shower and grabbed a nearby towel and dried herself thoroughly until she realized a small problem. The underwear and top she had worn in bed that night were now soaked and unable to be worn. The only thing she had were the jeggings she had removed before going to sleep, thinking quickly she went to Kyle's wardrobe and found a basic grey hoodie on a low shelf. Knowing it would be an ideal, warm replacement for a top, she picked it up and pulled it down over her head and chest. Annabelle started to walk back to retrieve her pants until some purple packaging from where she had gotten the hoodie, managed to catch her eye. She pulled the package out from the clothes and quickly identified it as youth night pull-ups. Unsure of Kyle's family she didn't think much of the product, although curious as to why it was in his room she returned the already opened package to where she found it and continued to find and put on her jeggings. As she made her way towards the kitchen, the material from her jeggings started to rub and irritate her crotch. In only 6 steps it had gotten to the point of 'too much' causing Annabelle to dart back to the bedroom and take off the pants, look around to find a solution to her problem. A thought ran through her mind, blocking the way for any other ideas to come through, the pull-ups in the closet. Annabelle tries to dismiss the idea, but couldn't think of any alternative. Quickly she pulled a pull-up out of the already-opened package, opening it up she remembered times that her parents had attempted to use these to protect her own bedding, unsuccessfully. Pushing through the memories, she stepped into the garment and pulled it up to her hips, the waistband feeling a little tight but still managing to keep the thick padding against her skin. Annabelle looked down and glimpsed the Tinkerbell waving back at her, a mix of adoration and disgust washed over her at the sight of the childish design. She rushed to pull up her jeggings to quickly cover the sight of the little fairy before rushing out to meet Kyle in the kitchen. Exiting the hall which opened to the kitchen and dining area, Annabelle saw Kyle standing over the stove. As she got closer the gentle fragrance of pancakes and bananas began to overpower her senses causing her mouth to water. Kyle sensed the arrival and flipped the current pancake before turning around. "Nice shower? That hoodie certainly suits you." Kyle complimented, noticing his hoodie being worn, oversized like a toddler. Annabelle spun around, modelling his hoodie, the base of the hoodie raised up with the speed of her spin enough for Kyle to see up to her waist. Enough for Kyle to notice a bulge around Annabelle’s crotch that reminded him of his young cousin's sleepovers with him and the pull-ups he kept upstairs for her. Kyle couldn't hold back a broad grin. "Very pretty. You look so good that you can keep it." He said. As Annabelle plopped onto a bench stool, Kyle finished the last couple of pancakes, thinking of how to play this situation. The girl he likes, wearing his young cousin’s pull-ups after her own bedtime accident. Kyle had been curious about caregiver-based dynamics and had for a while been researching and talking to many littles, caregivers and middles about their experiences. He thought that this could be an opportunity to explore a dynamic, but his mind started to swarm with doubts. "Would she leave? Would she think that I a freak? What if I do something wrong?" Kyle and Annabelle both ate their meals in silence, except for a few remarks about the food and the day ahead. Their minds both racing about the night’s events and their morning surprise. Upon finishing, Kyle took a leap and spoke up. "I hope you're not going to disappear after this morning." Slightly shocked, Annabelle almost jumped at him, even though it had briefly crossed her mind to disappear in shame. "What?! Why would I do that? I'm not that low." She exaggerated, with a hurt tone. "Sorry, sorry. So, you won’t object to coming around tomorrow night for some drinks and maybe another club." Kyle suggested, hopeful of another chance. "Sure..." Annabelle started, "...but I'll try not to repeat this morning’s events." She said apologetically, trying to inject some humour into her awkward situation. "If you’re that dedicated to preventing it, I might just pick up some more of my cousin's pull-ups, like the one you’re wearing. Just in case." Kyle offered, he couldn't hold it in and instantly saw her whole face turn a shade of deep red. ***
  3. I have started wearing diapers a few weeks ago and I want to wear them for longer. But even if you don't use them do you have to change them every day? I mean you have to do that with regular underwear. How long do any of you feel comfortable wearing a 'clean' diaper? Maybe I just got unlucky with the 2 boxes I got but with me after about 20 hours or so the padding has gone into hard clumps that really dig into my pelvis bones when I sit down and especially when on the bicycle. Also it's usually pretty moist from just sweat.
  4. In another thread I mentioned that I was going in for a routine check-up. I thought I was peeing quite a bit more often lately. And so I went. It was all good news; blood pressure, normal (a little low, but OK); heart and respiratory, OK; prostate, OK. So basically, I'm disgustingly healthy. I do need to go back in for a blood test, but I don't expect anything newsworthy to come of it. All this means that I don't have to wear diapers out of necessity. And that's good. The doctor did mention an optional test for cancer by taking a stool sample, he said if I wasn't too embarrassed about crapping in a cup, packaging it up in a box clearly labeled "Fecal Material." I laughed and said that brought to mind a few bathroom quips like: "No shit?" "Yeah, the box is full of it." I also thought I could diaper up, poop my diaper, and scrape off the big hunks into the sample container. Then I thought, "Nah...probably contaminate the sample." Still feels like I'm peeing more often than I used to. Eh....more diaper time, I guess.
  5. I'm sitting here diapered up, already wet myself once. The brave part is, my wife will be home from meeting a friend for breakfast I should imagine in about two hours' time. I think I can do this discreetly. And if I get busted, I'm prepared. I've been rehearsing what I'd say, and how I'd say it. Anyway, it's nice to start out the day with a diaper, a cup of coffee, and the sun streaming through my windows.
  6. I used to have a lot of tape problems years back, then I discovered I was at the root of most of it. I now only apply barrier cream with a rubber glove, am extremely careful with powder and only put my diaper on with surgeon hands (thoroughly cleaned and dried). Oils, lotion or powder on your hands easily transfer on to the landing zone and compromise the tapes ability to do it's job. Another problem I had was that I use moisturizer after a shower and the lotion under my forearm was transferring to the diaper, so I had to include that into my ritual. It's now extremely rare for me to have a tape issue. I do credit that partially to the brands I buy. However when I went through my tape troubles, I was beating my head against the wall trying to figure out if it was me or the diaper. For instance, I've never had any luck wit the dry 24/7's, I've tried a few times, last year being the most recent. I'm interested to see who has had tape issues with what brands? Also please include when the diapers were purchased as companies are always making changes to their products and may have since improved (or degraded). On a separate note, If you are having tape issues, try the above. Also, after the tapes are applied, I always rub all four of them quickly to generate friction/heat to help the glue out. Then while firmly pressing all four tapes, I sit up and wiggle around to give the diaper an initial stretch so all the tension isn't on the tape. So how are your tapes treating you?
  7. Confession I suppose this is a sort of confession. I suppose it’s something I feel a little bit guilty about… although I’m not sure why. It’s something I like to do, because it makes me feel good and… I suppose… makes me feel sexy… even though, to most people, that’s the last thing it would do. OK. OK. I’m just going to say it out loud and then … well… it’s out there and you can mock or call me names as much as you like. Hell, over the years and in my confusion I’ve called myself all kinds of things but… it doesn’t stop me doing it. Yes, alright… I’ll stop putting it off and just tell you. But don’t judge me. Well, I suppose you will but… I feel that… well… this is the place I should be able to talk about this… without too much… too many erm… well, problems. I mean, we all have our little secrets don’t we? I’m sure some are worse than mine. I bet some are really weird… yer... weird… but I promise I wont judge you. So, be kind. I really need to get this off my chest even though I don’t know why and after all… isn’t the motto of this group… this forum… “If it feels good, do it”? A bit like the sportswear brand Nike “Just do it”. OK. OK. Sorry, sorry… OK... I’m just waffling now. Here goes. I like to wear… erm… I find it comforting to wear… under my jeans, or suit, or in bed… a pair of… don’t be shocked… erm… a diaper and a pair of plastic pants. *** Perhaps some of you want to know where my love of these items comes from. I’m sure everyone has their own starting point for this type of thing. The moment when they realised… ‘POW’… that precise moment in time when it all started. I remember reading about an older man who could tell you the moment, and the occasion, that he became obsessed with men. As a kid he was watching a Tarzan programme on TV and he realised he was jealous of the boy Tarzan was looking after. Tarzan; all muscles and all but naked body in a loincloth had a young boy with him dressed pretty much the same… he desperately wanted to be that boy. Since that TV programme he’d become obsessed about finding his own Tarzan character; big, strong, in charge but, as he said, it gets more and more difficult as you get older. He’s now middle-aged and, playing a little defenceless little boy in need of protection, is getting more and more difficult. Not that that is how I see myself. No. I don’t see myself as a little lad. Hell NO, what are you thinking? Although I can tell you when this obsession started and it was down to a little boy… my younger brother. *** As kids we shared the same bed. Well, when he was old enough to sleep away from my parents he ended up sharing my bed. He was 3 at the time and I was 7. As a grown-up 7 year-old I didn’t really want to be sharing my bed with anyone, least of all my little brother who I wasn’t convinced was toilet trained. In fact he was very slow in getting to use the potty and mum kept him in training pants during the day, and at night she’d slip a pair of plastic pants over them for added protection. One night, when he was 4 years old, mum had said that he didn’t need the training pants anymore as he’d had dry nights for several months. Like me he slept in just his pajamas and yes, that night, he wet the bed. Now, I was sleeping next to him and to be suddenly awakened by a wet patch took me by surprise and disgust and I literally kicked the little bugger out of the bed. He landed on the floor with a crash and banged his head on the bedside table, which caused a cut and he started crying. I panicked as mum and dad came to my room to see what the commotion was all about. Mum picked up my little brother and stared daggers at me for hurting her little baby, while dad grabbed my arm and pulled me from the damp bed. I tried to explain that he’d wet the bed and I hadn’t meant to hurt him but my dad did something he’d never done before. He put me over his knee and gave me a spanking. Never in all my 8 years had dad said so much as a harsh word to me let alone raised his hand, but over his knee he gave me such a hard hand spanking that my little cotton pajamas offered no protection and my bottom felt every fierce smack. By the end I was weeping more than my little brother, my bottom hurt and stung but my father told me to stand in the corner of the room with my hands on my head… I couldn’t even rub the pain away. As I stood there crying, and in shock, dad flipped the mattress and changed the bedding. He seemed to take ages and all I could do was sob in the corner with a stinging red bum and regretting ever having a pissy little brother. When he’d finished he called me over to him. He was sat on the bed and I feared I was in for another spanking but I wasn’t. He pulled me into his warm manly chest and gave me a cuddle. He kissed my head and held me in a comforting way until my sobbing had quietened down then he spoke to me in his usual, soft and mild tones about… responsibility. He told me about my responsibility to my brother… that when he or my mum were not around, I was in charge and I should be looking out for him; making sure he didn’t hurt himself or get into any trouble. He explained how he and my mum were relying on me to be a good brother, a thoughtful brother, a protecting brother… and all in all… I was made to feel I had let them down, but more importantly, I’d let myself down by this one act of nastiness. Dad hugged me and put me back into bed with a kiss and I slept on my front as my bum still smarted from the spanking. My little brother spent the night with mum and dad and, after thinking about my situation and what dad had said, I eventually managed to get some sleep. The following day David, my little brother, had quite a bruise on his forehead together with a small scratch. I really did feel guilty so apologised to him before I went off to school though didn’t know what to expect when I got home. Sleeping arrangements were the same, I went to bed and David was there only this time he was back in his plastic pants. I cuddled him that night, I wanted him to know that I was his older brother who would protect him and not harm him, and he scooted up to lie against my chest as I wrapped my arms around him. That was the moment… the ‘POW’ moment I was telling you about. The moment when I fell for a sensation and my life changed quite a bit. *** My pajamas were very thin and so were David’s and I could feel the thickness of the diaper and plastic pants through the material. As he snuggled up closer the back of his pajamas came down and mine had also ridden up a bit so, some of my hip came into contact with his plastic pants. I liked the feeling. As he slept I pulled down his pajama bottoms and had him sleep tightly up against me and I just loved his hot little body, his thickly padded butt and his shiny plastic pants rubbing up against my naked skin. I’m sure he had no idea what was going on, and in all truth, neither did I, but I do know that we innocently slept that way for many months. I often wondered if he ever wondered why he always woke up with his pajama bottoms around his ankles but nothing was ever said. We tried on several occasions to let David sleep without the protection and he’d go a couple of days dry before he’d have another accident and mum would put him back into the protective padding. This frustrated little David a lot and visits to the doctor and several help-features later, we still couldn’t stop him from his involuntary pissing. He seemed to stay dry when he was in all his protection but as soon as we let him out of it, he peed the bed. He was getting one angry little chap. He hated being like he was and, because he was still in his diaper or training pants, I think he was getting a ribbing from his friends at pre-school. Even at that age kids can be so cruel but he’d refused to wear those trainer or plastic pants to bed and started to wet even more regularly. No one at his school wore them, he argued in his boyish petulance, so why should he? He was determined that he wasn’t going to wear those ‘baby’ pants any more. We sympathised but every morning we’d both wake up to a soaked bed. The rubber sheet we both now slept on helped a bit but he still flowed almost every night. Mum would be very forceful with him and dress him for bed, making sure his night time diaper and plastic pants were in place but as soon as she left the bedroom he’d angrily remove them and chuck them in the corner. When I came to bed a little later I’d see them and, thinking about what dad had said about being responsible and David’s protector, would pick them up and try to put them back on his sleeping little body. However, one night, instead of re-dressing David, I struggled to get into them myself. They were very tight and clung to me like another skin. It was incredible… I loved the feel. I loved the way the bulkiness made me... I suppose… excited… as I’d gently stroke the soft malleable plastic material against my body. I didn’t realise it was sexual - all I knew was that I liked the feeling it gave me. This was even better than rubbing up against my little brother and I had no idea why it had taken me so long to undertake this most obvious of steps. *** The following morning we woke to another wet bed, I had forgotten the fact that I was wearing David’s diaper and plastic pants and so when mum came in, she saw me in them. At first she looked a bit surprised and then just nodded to me. At breakfast I was worried about what mum would say to dad but I was amazed. Mum said that I had hit upon a fantastic idea. She had read that a sibling, which I gathered was me, might set a better example than anyone else if I wore the same as my brother. At the time I didn’t quite get what she meant but I was just so happy that she had not said anything embarrassing to dad and that I was being held up for some praise. That night, when mum took David up to bed, she asked me to go with her. I was watching TV but with a smile and an encouraging nod from dad, I made my way upstairs. David was once again riling against putting on his night time padded protection but mum asked him - what if I wore the same as him, would he then wear them? She told him that he was not a little boy, and that we all knew it wasn’t his fault. I was shocked… somewhere in all this I suddenly realised what I was being asked to do. Even as an 8 year-old I thought, what I did in the privacy of my own bed and liked, was not necessarily what I wanted to be taken as the natural course of things. After all, I was a lot older than David; I was grown up for heaven’s sake. I hadn’t worn a diaper since I was 2. I was just about to voice these concerns when she told David that it was all my idea and that both she and dad were proud that I loved my little brother so much I was prepared to do this for him. She said that I was the best brother in the world and David should know just how much his older brother was trying to help him with his slight problem. She produced a new, slightly larger diaper like David’s and a pair of plastic pants and asked me to put them on. So, caught off guard by this turn of events and knowing I had no way out of it, I stripped off in front of mum and David and let her fasten me into them and the new, slightly larger and more rubbery pair of plastic pants, before pulling my pajamas over it all. I felt huge… if well protected. Seeing me like this David didn’t even try and argue, he let my mum dress him the same and with no more fuss kissed him a more relaxed goodnight. I was on my way back downstairs to watch TV and … well I don’t know what… possibly to try and talk myself out of the situation… when David called me back and asked me to come to bed with him there and then. I was about to argue but mum said what a good idea it was and I knew I was beaten. Even dad came into the room and kissed us both goodnight, he gave me a huge hug and said “Thanks” and at that moment I knew things would never be the same. I went through this nightly ritual for as long as I shared a bed with David, a further two years. Some times he’d go forever without getting wet as long as he had his protection on. When we tried to take him out of them he inevitably wet the bed. However, I had grown used to my nocturnal mode of dress and told mum I didn’t mind sleeping that way if it helped. I was happy and I suppose enjoying my first ‘fetish’, although at the time I had no idea that such a word existed but I suppose, even at that age, I knew it was nothing to shout about as I hadn’t told anyone how much I liked wearing all that stuff. *** Eventually, dad got a new job and we moved. In the new house we had a room each and in many ways I was sad to lose the comfort of my younger brother sleeping next to me, though at the time I think I was really made up about having so much space to myself. The strange thing was… David stopped wetting himself. Now he had his own room he just grew in confidence and his wetting stopped. Not gradually, but overnight… he pulled off his protection on that first night in his new single bed and never put them back on. Things changed for me as well. I had more privacy but mum, had stopped buying plastic pants and stuff to fit me, because she was able to stop buying those things altogether. However, I kept my diapers and plastic pants and occasionally would just pull on those very tight fitting stretched slippery pants and wear them in bed. I’m not clever or academic so I didn’t go to college but found a job locally just a week after my 18th birthday. On my first pay day I went out to the drugstore and quite openly bought a couple of new pairs of plastic pants and adult diapers and have been doing so, on and off, ever since. I’m 20 now and still live at home with mum, dad and my brother and it’s great, I have as much freedom as I need. I’m not sure if mum knows what I do. I don’t leave ‘evidence’ around the house but I did once notice that the draw I kept them in had been opened. I assumed it was mum putting away my ironed clothes but I never asked and she never said if this was the case. So, everything is fine. I wear my diapers and plastic pants for comfort, for memories and, well, because I like to. My job doesn’t pay a fortune so I’m not able to wear them 24/7 but at night, when I’m feeling that way out, there is simply nothing better than getting well-padded; slip on my diaper, some soft plastic pants and drift off to an amazingly comfortable sleep. I think I must have been in denial in the beginning because in truth, I do feel like a little boy in need of protection when I wear them. I have a footed onesie (a Christmas present from my parents would you believe), a bottle and a pacifier (which I bought myself) for when I feel the need and I just love to regress, even for a little while, back to when I shared the bed with my little brother. I dream of those times regularly and I always wake up happy and relaxed, even if I happen to have wet myself in the night, which, unintentionally, I occasionally do. I adore my thick protection. I enjoy the sensation of my plastic pants. I enjoy my bed being dry even when I’m not. Perhaps, in the future, I’ll get a daddy who wants to join me on these adventures, maybe even coming up with a few ideas of his own. Until then, I love my occasional ‘little’ life. **** tbc
  8. Hiya. So to preface, I hate living alone. I'm kinda a naturally lazy and unmotivated person who pretty quickly becomes anti-social if I'm not forced to interact with folks. As such I tend to prefer even the worst of roommates to living on my own. However, last I lived alone was over two years ago, and there is one major regret that I have from that time, and that is not building a greater surplus of diapers, not mail ordering some fancy babyprint ones (not that I have any actual beef with the goodnights, tenas, and depends available at my drugstore), and maybe even wearing 24/7 a couple times. Now I was super unemployed at the time, so I didn't really have the extra scratch to spend on fancy diapers or having an excess of different types, but I'm still so excited for the next point in my life I get this opportunity, now that I have a better idea of how to take advantage of it. I've never desired a true 24/7 lifestyle but I'm just real disappointed in myself for not having more 24/3 moments when I had that chance.
  9. I'm more of a lurker on this site but promised myself I'd get more involved this year.
  10. Hi everyone,Thought I'd share with you all a link to a just-published interview with a professional ABDL Mummy. It's a thoughtful, intelligent, positive and balanced article written with genuine intrigue into the ABDL community. It's one of few articles not out to denigrate or exploit the ABDL world for "freak-show' entertainment.
  11. Hi, my name is Ami_Mercury. I've been a lifestyle ABDL on and off for about 7 years, but until the past few months I've been pretty reserved and quiet about it. I'm excited to start connecting with the community, and make new friends.
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