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  1. WARNING! READ THIS BEFORE CONTINUING!!! ACTS OF VIOLENCE AND GORE DESCRIBED!!! This story is indeed a Diaper Dimension story, but it's a bit different from ones you are probably used to. To summarize but hopefully not spoil, after reading so many stories with exceptionally cruel amazons, with so many different little (and the occasional tweener) protagonists, themselves and others, suffering at the hands of such amazons, I found myself wondering something. What if there was a little serial killer? Yes I know with the technology and nanites and hypnosis and whatnot that the amazons largely have at their disposal, as well as the obvious size and strength difference, that a little harming them, or at least more than one, seems pretty far-fetched in these stories about a race of babying giants from another dimension and their super-advanced sci-fi tech. I just wanted to give a heads up that there is going to be violence involved, from someone who LOVES horror movies and the horror genre in general. There will still be PLENTY of the amazon babying humiliation goodness, just with the extra horror aspect added in. If anyone is triggered by described acts of violence, I have another DD story that might be more suitable, Little Survivor, not to mention the many other DD stories available out there that are not as... bloody as this one is. For everyone else, I hope that you enjoy... Little Monster! Little Monster (Prologue) by Panther Cub "So what do you think happened?" Detective Roberts heard his partner, Detective Melissa Alvarez, ask from the passenger seat. He had just shown his badge to the security guard at the gate to the gated community that they were entering, Brookshire Estates, an ever familiar pit forming in his gut. "The Chief's been missing for two days, and then a little while ago a neighbor called in having heard screams coming from his house. That's all we know," Roberts said, his gut saying otherwise. "The Chief would at least call in or something," Alvarez said. The radio cackled to life, informing the two that backup was on the way, as another unit had just pulled up to the gate. It was then that Roberts pulled into the familiar two-story upper-class suburban dream. He noticed that the lawn was starting to look a little shaggy. Roberts took note that it's definitely been longer than three days since the grass was cut, and Chief Alexander was nothing if not meticulous about his lawn. The pit in the detective's gut doubled in size. "Well, they did just recently adopt, and new Littles can be quite the handful," he said, more to himself than to his partner. She looked about as unconvinced as he did. They got out just as their backup arrived. Roberts led the way, ready to knock on the front door and hoping to find a sleepless older man, looking disheveled and unshaven, with a story about the new little keeping them up or maybe even trying to escape. Instead, he found that the door was already open. "Hello? Clancey? Bonnie?" There was no answer, and so he called out again. He spotted a red smear on the white doorframe, and his heart skipped a beat. "Blood." With the probable cause they needed he and his partner entered, guns out, with the officers right behind them. From the entryway there was a clear line of sight to the dining room. There was a new blue with white trim high chair sitting next to the large oak table. Roberts and Alvarez quickly walk around the ground floor, finding all the doors and windows locked, nothing looking out of place. With the officers staying on the ground floor, calling in another unit, the detectives headed upstairs. Halfway up, they stopped. On the banister, near the floor, was a bloody handprint, as though someone had been laying on the floor, gripping it. Looking a little closer, Roberts could see indentations from fingernails. "Oh my god," Alvarez said, looking past the bannister in sickened shock. Roberts looked, his stomach clenching. Blood, tiny droplets like a fine red mist had been sprayed, and small pools of it splashed all about in the hall just past the top of the stairs. Even up on the ceiling. Immediately Melissa was on her radio calling in more backup. With confirmation, they continued onwards. Amidst the rest were splotches and drag marks leading right to the master bedroom. Looking inside, Roberts was reminded of a horror movie. The hallway had been bad, but the master bedroom was much worse. There, laying in the bed was Bonnie. Her face had been bludgeoned to a pulp, with a small hammer laying right next to her. Oh god... did the Chief do this? I know that he and Bonnie had been having problems before the adoption, but this... no, no assumptions. Roberts and Alvarez had both seen their fair share of homicides during their careers, so they pulled it together. Looking a little closer, Roberts saw that Clancey's side of the bed was the most disheveled, his pillows and part of the blankets and sheets on the floor, also covered in blood. He then noticed a trickling pattern of blood along with some intermittent bloody handprints on the floor, leading to the door. He looked again at Bonnie, and fought the bile that tried to come up. Her hands were at her sides, and they seemed clean. "No defensive wounds," he mumbled under his breath. Already he had a theory, even though his training taught him to reserve his judgment until further investigation yielded more clues. But he was only human, and he had seen blitz attacks. The intruder attacked them while they were sleeping... he probably gave Clancey a few whacks, being a big guy and clearly a bigger threat, before going to work on the still-sleeping Bonnie. She normally takes sleeping pills, so she could have still been out like a light. But Clancey hadn't been dead, just seriously injured, and maybe disoriented. He crawled to the door and to the stairs... when the intruder came for him next. But... there's too much blood here to just be Bonnie's... A thump in the room next door made him and Alvarez freeze. They walked back out into the hallway, just as the additional units were pulling up. On a silent count of three, Roberts pushed open the door and flicked on the lights to what appeared to be the new nursery. It was painted blue for the little boy that they had just adopted from another dimension. More blood was splashed around, but the crib was empty, or almost empty. Was this a kidnapping? Portal Littles can be worth a lot on the black market. They swept the room, before Roberts approached the crib. Inside was a very large jack in the box. He recognized it as the kind where kids and littles could put their favorite toy or stuffie inside to make pop back out with the hand crank. They could even be set to start turning their own cranks all by themselves, either on a timer or even if their sensors indicated that someone was nearby and in range. Roberts guessed he was in range, as the crank started to slowly turn. He and Alvarez heard the tune to Pop Goes the Weasel slowly started to play. The song reached its end and the lid popped open, making the two detectives flinch. Staring back at them was Clancey's head. His pale face, the slight jowls he was beginning to form, the short-cropped hair with a receding line and his red nose, staring blankly at the two detectives, his mouth hanging wide open. "Dear god," Alvarez said, sounding sick. Roberts was of the same mind. Despite all the previous grisly cases they had worked, it never got any easier, especially when the person in question was someone you had just seen and talked with recently. Roberts then noticed a piece of yellow note paper folded and stuffed inside Clancey's mouth. The paper fell out and fluttered to the floor, coming unfolded as it did and landing face up. Robert's, maintaining his composure, briefly marveled at how luck worked sometimes, before shaking his head to banish the thought. Without touching it, Roberts bent down to read it. It was written in blood. There's a surprise in the closet, it read, with a red smiley face at the bottom of the paper. Roberts nodded to his partner just as soon as she finished calling in a coroner, and stating that there were two bodies, as well as an officer down. "Some bastard did this to a cop," Roberts growled, knowing that whomever did this had to have known that they were putting a target on their backs. Alvarez went to the doorknob of the closet and, with Roberts pointing his gun at it, she opened it. There, amidst all the teddy bears and toys and outfits, was the body of the rest of the Chief. Cut into pieces, with an electric saw laying right there, drenched in blood with bits of gore still stuck in the teeth. It was then that Roberts saw some more hand prints, at the bottom of the back wall of the closer, underneath another bloody smiley face. But these prints were small, smaller than an adult's... like a child's... or a Little's. Roberts read the writing just above this second smiley face. I had a lot of fun. Let's play again sometime. "Holy hell... the Little," Roberts said, the pit in his stomach returning. That was why there was a fine spray of blood out in the hall, because a little couldn't have moved the body of an adult Amazon on their own. At least... not in one piece... he looked again at the electric saw and blanched. "What?" Alvarez said, looking inside the closet again, past the dismembered corpse of their chief. Her eyes went wide at the message and the handprints. "The portal Little they adopted... he's a murderer." (Chapter 1) "Keep those hands up," the officer snarled. His gun was out and pointed right at the man in the red hoodie, both of whose arms were in the air. His back was to the officer, yet he exuded an air of nonchalance. Detective Ash approached, her own gun in her hands. The alley was dark, lit up by red and blue flashes as well as a flickering green neon sign. Each light painting everything a different color. Just around the corner, her partner lay in a pool of his own blood while officers and paramedics saw to him. Rushing footsteps could be heard, and she breathed a sigh of relief, as additional backup was right behind them. She looked up to the officer with his gun out, noticing that it was the new kid, fresh out of the academy. Ricky, she thought his name was. His blonde hair was closely cropped, whereas hers was in a braided ponytail. He was in his uniform, while Ash was in a charcoal gray suit and tie. He was also an Amazon, as Ash was a Little. When the perp was a little, she would slap the cuffs on them during an arrest. If they were a 'Tweener or and Amazon, then her partner, David, a great hulking goliath of a man, would be the one to cuff them. Officer Ricky whatshisface looked down to her, his eyes wide that the sonofabitch was right there, in front of him. The man's face had been plastered all over the news. She saw fear in the kid's eyes, but taller than her or not, she was the superior. Ash gave him a silent nod, and with a gulp, and additional officers taking up positions with their own guns out, Ricky approached the man. He holstered his gun and got the cuffs out, quickly grabbing the perp's raised right hand. He was quick, but the man in the hoodie was quicker. He whirled around, a flash of silver painted green in the neon light, before a dark spray gushed forth from Ricky's opened neck. Ash froze, time slowed. Ricky's hands went to his slit throat, while the now faceless man in the hoodie laughed, running right towards her. Her gun went off, along with the other officers'. But instead of dropping, he kept running straight at her. Ash emptied her clip into the ever growing center mass of bright red... and then her eyes flew open. Sitting up, Ashley stretched and yawned, looking around her room. She was no longer in the dark alley, but instead in her pink and white crib, her purple dinosaur blankie still partially tucked in. She was sucking on her red binky, reluctantly finding comfort in it. Pulling back the blankie, she looked down at her bright yellow legless onesie, with the telltale bulge of her nighttime diaper hugging her waist. She pushed down on the front, the squishiness confirming she was once again wet. She then rubbed the sleep from her eyes, wondering about her dream. That hadn't been how any of what had happened gone down. Except for the parts about her partner being mortally wounded and the new kid's throat being slit. As well as the serial killer she and her partner had been hunting for over a month before cornering him in that damn warehouse. Oh, and the part when she had emptied her entire clip into him while he ran at her with a knife in hand. The sunlight drifting in through the open window feeling warm. Looking around her room, she sighed. On the one hand, she was adopted, on the other, her mommy and daddy were childhood friends of hers that had swooped in when she needed it and adopted her. She still had to be babied, between possible LPS getting involved, and Stacy's maternal instincts being apparently hard to suppress. Not that Ari was much better in that regard, what with his habit of calling her Princess. Shaking her head and brushing away her dark locks, Ash reached up and pressed the pink button at the corner bar of her crib, causing the side to slowly open. With a great big yawn, she climbed out of bed and started waddling to the door. To her left was her changing table and toy chest as well as the closet that was full of baby clothes. To her right was her computer desk with the latest, and skinniest to date, PC sitting on it, the computer itself translucent. Next to that was her cork board with names of clients and photos pinned to it, a great section showing a map of Bentwood and the surrounding areas. After the fallout from her final case in Xophta City, and the press coverage from it, Mommy and Daddy had elected to move them to this sleepy small town for a fresh start. Zephyinstan was one of the more progressive countries with how it treated its Littles like legal adults... yet here she was. Once one of the youngest, and littlest, detectives in the Xophta Police Department, now an overgrown toddler getting ready for a diaper change. What shame she had initially felt for it had slowly faded in the year since her adoption, and it had just become another part of her routine. Wake up, get changed, have her morning coffee and some breakfast, and then log into work from her own desktop. As a freelance private investigator, she could actually set her own hours. But she was a morning Little. Always had been, always would be. She didn't get far stepping out into the hall before she was scooped up and cradled into Stacy's arms. She smiled and giggled when the red-headed bombshell rubbed their noses together. "There's my special little girl, yes she is," Stacy cooed to her as she carried the smaller girl back into the nursery, laying her down on the changing table and quickly removing the onesie and the thick night time diaper. Stacy was a pro at diaper changes, and in less than a minute, Ash was wiped clean, powdered, and taped into her pink princess daytime diapers. While thick, they had nowhere near the mass of the nightime ones. Soon, Ash found a bright blue dress with puffed shoulder sleeves and a peter pan collar slipped over her head, before Stacy set about tackling her bedhead with a brush. "What's the occasion?" Ash asked, before being offered her binky and accepting it. "We're getting a new neighbor today, Sweetiepie!" Stacy said, picking up the girl and placing her on her hip. The walk downstairs to the kitchen, past all the cute family pics hanging on the wall, was uneventful. Ash was safely buckled into her orange and peach high chair, with a matching bib snapped on. She was then handed her steamy mug of coffee, with two sugars and a splash of cream stirred in, just how she liked it. Ari smiled at the two of them as he entered, adjusting his tie. He and Stacy shared a kiss, and then he kissed Ash on the forehead. Sometimes it was hard to believe that she and Daddy were the same age, and even had the same jet black hair, his reaching his shoulders, while hers was now able to reach the back of her diaper. His mischievous green eyes twinkled in delight. "I see our little Princess is enjoying her morning coffee while sitting on her special throne," he said, heading over and grabbing the plate of food he had made for himself. Stacy was a sweet person, but she could not boil an egg without messing it up horribly. Luckily Ari loved cooking. He set before Ash a big, for her, plate of the chicken omelet. Ash smiled, grabbing her plastic fork and knife and quickly digging in. "So I heard that the new neighbor is a bachelor," Ari said, setting a plate in front of where Stacy sat, finally grabbing his own. "Well, I'll bet that Sheila will be especially interested in hearing that," Stacy said, making Ari chuckle, and Ash roll her eyes. If it had a Y chromosome and could afford its own house, Sheila was on the prowl for it. "Maybe, maybe not, or at least, maybe not in the usual manner," Ari said, smiling slyly to his wife. "Oh?" "Just found out from Randy that our new neighbor is a Little." That caught Ash's attention. She looked up from her omelet to stare at Ari and see if he was trying to make a joke. It was not unheard of for Littles to own their own homes, it was just that the house purchased across the street from their own was built for Amazons. Most Littles in Bentwood stuck to small areas with houses sized for their statures. "Really? And he's buying old Mr. Mulligan's house?" Mr. Mulligan, a rather cantankerous old man, had passed away last month. While not a particularly pleasant man, he was fastidious with the upkeep of his two-story Zictorian-style house. It was white with a massive oak tree in the front yard, and even a tower. Anytime so much as a leaf from a neighbor's tree blew onto his manicured lawn, he would go on over to the offender's home and loudly berate them for it. Old Mr. Mulligan had also been very vocal with his opinions, especially his opinions on Littles and their places in society. To him, all Littles, and even 'Tweeners as a precaution, should have been legally mandated to wear diapers at all times. Needless to say, no one in the neighborhood had been especially torn up over his loss. Old bastard, Ash thought, remembering when the pot-bellied and bald old man had scolded Stacy after he had somehow learned that Ash was working as a private investigator, despite being adopted. He had threatened to call LPS many times, and they had even had to talk with an LPS rep on two occasions, before apparently they realized that the one who called them was just a crazed old man with nothing better to do. She smirked a little at the thought of a Little being the one to buy his house. He's probably spinning in his grave, she thought, taking another bite of cheesy chickeney omelety goodness. "I heard that he works in IT," Ari said, snapping Ash out of her reveries. "and that he didn't even need a loan. He bought the property outright." "Oh wow!" Stacy said with glee. "Well, now I'm excited to meet him! And I'll bet our little Ashley will be too!" She leaned over and smooched Ash on her cheek. Ash smiled, internally cringing a bit. Free Littles just being nearby, no diapers of Amazonian parents in the picture, tended to stir up emotions for Ash, reminding her of what she used to be. She sighed again, before wondering what the new Little neighbor was going to be like. Meanwhile... The sun was shining down while movers were unloading furniture and boxes from the O-Haul truck. There was a light breeze that was carrying with it a tune. It was Thurston Harris' Little Bitty Pretty One. The music started to grow in volume as a car, sized for a Little, started to pull into the driveway next to the truck. One of the movers, a man with a big bushy ginger beard, recognized the car as one from one of the Terra dimensions, a classic. It was a red '58 Plymouth Fury, complete with fishtail lights and a white top, with whitewall tires. The music continued before it was shut off, followed by the car. Getting out was a male Little, definitely over six feet, wearing a tailored navy blue suit with a blood red tie. His chestnut brown hair was short-trimmed and slicked back. He smiled up at the two movers, before they went back to work. The Little turned to see approaching him was an Amazonian couple, and a casual smile spread on his face. "Well, hello there," he said, with a light southern accent to his voice. "Oh, hi there, little fella," the woman cooed, squatting down a bit with a bright smile on her face. "Welcome to the neighborhood! My name is Linda, and this is my husband Marty. If you need any help with anything, you can always come and get one of us!" Linda was a middle-aged Amazon with auburn hair that was partially curled. She had some curves to her, and was wearing a white sundress, a gold locket hanging around her neck and dangling in between her ample bosom. The man, Marty, was wearing khaki shorts and a green polo shirt. He nodded to the Little, but otherwise said nothing. "I appreciate that. It certainly is a pleasure to make both of your acquaintances. I am Patrick Maetnab," he said, holding out a hand to shake. And there you have it readers, the very first part of a new mini-project. I hope that you enjoyed it.
  2. I'm taking a punt on this type of story, its going to be full of magic and vamipres, let me know if you like it and if you wish to roleplay with this theme or something similar. I've been told that I shouldn't put pictures in the story but I like too coz its better than a long list of what the character looks like. So this is Mattias Bourbon he is a thousand year old vampire. This is Matilda Rogers but she goes by Tilly. She is 18 years old. Chapter 1 - Sweet Girl We Meet Again Back and forth, back and forth. That's all I could do. It had been 8 hours, I could hear the church bells as the chimed on the hour. They called it a bedroom but if you have a lock on the outside of the door and bars on the window it's really a cell. I had been in this asylum for as long as I can remember. It was the only home I had ever known, not that it was much of a home. This really was a hell on earth. Lifting my dirty shift I had to wear day in and day out, I gently place my hands on my poor marked bottom. Sister Agatha had really done a number on it this morning. Stupid old nun. If she had let me speak at breakfast I would have told her I had to pee. I tried to get her attention but she had shushed me, It wasn't long before I felt the warm trickle of pee run down my legs and form a little puddle on the floor. I had tried to hide it as we left the dining hall but Sally the Snitch had to shout out "Tilly wet herself again!" Sister Agatha came up behind me and before I could do anything she had grabbed my ear twisting it so I was forced to bend over "YOU WICKED WICKED GIRL!" she shouts as she pulls me along the hallways to the punishment room. Pushing me down over the old exercise horse she used the straps that are attached to the bottom of it to secure my hands and feet. She then picked a switch, there was a bunch of them and the nuns liked to use them on us all the time. She roughly pulls my dress up and without warning she starts to whip me, I try to be brave but it isn't long before I break and beg for mercy "PLEASE SISTER!" I scream as the switch cuts into my poor bottom. "WICKED GIRL!" was all she said as she continue to whip me. My whole body was shaking when she finally finished. Unbuckling the straps I slide onto the floor. To weak and scared to move but Sister Agatha simply pulled me up and along by the arm. When we got to my cell she pushed me in and slammed the door. I crawled up onto my old army cot and sobbed. I could swear my bottom was bleeding but it was far too sore to touch. After I had finally calmed myself down I got up and I had been walking in straight lines since. There was nothing else to do, all that was in the room was an old army cot and a chamber pot. The sun had set about 2 hours ago, it was December so the nights came fast. It was so cold here, I had the blanket they gave to each of the girls, wrapped around my shoulders to try and keep me warm. I wanted heat and food, I didn't care which came first. Suddenly I can hear voices coming along the hall, it sounded like Sister Mary, the mother superior and a man. But that couldn't be right. No men were allowed in St Peter's Girls Asylum. They stop outside the locked door of my cell, fearing more punishment I quickly get into bed and pretend to be asleep. Keys jangle and the door opens. "Are you sure you want this one?" Sister Mary asks "Yes she is the one" the man answers and I feel him coming closer to the cot, he bends down, I guess to take a better look at me so I keep my eyes shut "Sweet girl, we meet again. I'll take her" Take me where? And what did he mean we meet again? I think. We weren't supposed to leave ever and I had definitely never met anyone apart from the nuns and other inmates. "Now?" Sister Mary sounds a little put out. She sighs before ripping the blanket away from me "Up girl" I open my eyes again and see Sister Mary standing over me with a man beside her. I had never seen a man before, not in real life anyways just in pictures and books when the nuns weren't looking. He looked like a giant. "Up up up!" Sister Mary repeats, clearly I wasn't moving fast enough for her, I sit up and move to get off the cot, my bottom touches the cot causing me to cry out "Ouch!" I jump up and rub my bottom. "She's been punished?" The man asks, his voice emotionless and cold. "Well Tilly here has a problem with wetting, we have tried many different methods to stop it but none have worked. So now she is whipped every time she wets" "I would like to inspect the damage" he says I think he is talking to me. I look at Sister Mary, unsure what to do but she simply nods. Hoping I am doing the right thing I slowly turn around and bend over a little before lifting my dress up to my waist. "Tsk tsk tsk" is all the man says as I feel a hand on my bottom, but it doesn't hurt like it should, it feels soothing. This is odd, I think. He removes his hand and I straighten up allowing my dress to fall back into place. Without saying anything else to Sister Mary the man turns to leave my cell "Come Matilda" he orders, not even looking back. Sister Mary grabs my arm as stay glued to the spot. "Go with him girl, do what he says or you shall be right back here" Without a second thought I walk as quickly as I can to catch up with the man. I dare not speak until we are out the front door of the asylum. "Where are we going?" I ask as he opens the passenger door of his large black car. He ignores me. "Get in young lady or sore bottom or not you will be punished" I quickly slide into the car as he gets into the other side. Reaching over me he pulls the seatbelt around me and clips it into place. He drives through the old gates and heads towards a dark and winding road. "Where are we going?" I dare to ask again. He gives a simple one word answer. "Home"
  3. The Face Another early morning and already James is feeling angry and resentful. Ever since the unknown virus had entered his body and more or less disabled him he’s been getting angrier and angrier by the minute… even when he was asleep his dreams were all about him angrily doing something. The doctor’s regular visits over the past eight weeks had also angered him. The man was an absolute buffoon. What the hell did it mean - he didn’t know what the problem was? How could they not find something out from the seemingly never ending supply of blood that was taken from his veins? Was everyone at the damned testing lab incompetent? James had woken up eight weeks ago and found he could hardly move. His legs and arms were paralysed even though the rest of his body was working as normal. This had become a constant source of frustration for him. At twenty eight years old he had the normal urges a young man in his prime would have and as blood flowed to his penis he was thwarted in any attempt to relieve himself. The catheter they attached to take away his strangely greenish piss had done little to interfere with what became almost constant hard-ons. This wasn’t the cause of his angry frustrations but it certainly didn’t help. Then, because of a rather nasty infection the catheter was removed and he had to entertain the idea, as a twenty something, of wearing a nappy. He hated that piece of material. The nurses manhandling, the embarrassment of a stiff cock and not being able to do a thing about it, but worst of all was lying around in a wet and messed in nappy... just waiting. The nurse had obviously been in while he was still asleep and left a cup of tea on the bed side table… but of course he couldn’t reach it and knew he’d have to wait for her return so he could have the cup cradled to his lips as he sipped the lukewarm beverage. He’d tried to talk the old nurse into giving him a wank but she had retreated embarrassed and threatened to leave seven weeks ago. So now she only spent time with him when meals were to be taken, the doctor arrived, some medical exam or her sanitary obligations had to be performed. She had taken badly against James and saw her job of bringing relief to the suffering of those patients in her charge to be only medical and not recreational. Although performed with efficiency she completed each and every change with as little eye contact as possible. Once he’d returned from the hospital where the array of talented doctors had to admit to being baffled by this mysterious complaint James had spent the last eight weeks lying in his bed unable to move. Unbeknown to him, a few were of the opinion that it was something that was mental and his ‘virus’ was the product of his own imaginings. He had told them that on the night when this strange condition had taken hold of his body he had dreamed of a great wasp-like thing stinging him at the base of his spine and he’d woken sweating uncontrollably, in fear, a soaked bed and crying but unable to move. He had managed to scream for help but living alone it had taken a couple of days for anyone to hear his cries for assistance. So he’d had to live in his own piss and excrement for all that time, it was a situation he wouldn’t have wished on anyone. Now each night, and completely frustrated at having to rely on anybody else, the man who was a champion squash player… well in his works league at least… and on the front row of the local amateur rugby club… he wore the shirt with pride… fell asleep and his head spun with the weird dreams that occupied his nocturnal thoughts. It’s strange but… well… never had his dreams seemed more real. Never had such a strange and disparate selection of extraordinary, connived and utterly stupid electrons fused together in his brain to produce a panorama of madness and mayhem. Each dream seemed to outdo the last. He both feared and looked forward to his eyes closing and the dream merchants bringing on unbidden the bizarre and exotic… with the occasional erotic thrown in to seemingly mock him for what he was now unable to do. * He shouted for the nurse. The cup of tea was cooling quickly and he hated drinking cold tea. He’d learned that his requests to his nurse for anything normally fell on deaf ears until it suited her… she had her own routine and she wasn’t going to let the fact that he was paying to be cared for interfere with that. Even his nappy was only changed when it suited her. James hated the bitch but had come to rely on her. He gazed out of the window. It faced north so never actually got much sun coming full into his room but this particular early spring morning was glorious. He could see out into the fields and the morning sun lit them up and was bringing out the new green buds on the trees awakening from their winter’s hibernation. If he wasn’t in his usual bad mood he may have quite enjoyed the view… even the pale blue sky seemed to go on for ever without so much as a single cloud to spoil the view. Actually, as he stared out of the window he could see a small black ‘something’ on the far blue horizon. Perhaps it was a small flock of birds but he couldn’t quite make out what it was. He called for the nurse again, he really didn’t want to suffer cold tea again, and a very full nappy but she wasn’t in any rush to come to his assistance. He needed her to put the TV or radio on as well as he couldn’t control the controls. Annoyed and frustrated he returned to looking out over the peaceful sunny morning view… everything the same except that the black smudge on the horizon seemed to be getting bigger and he wondered if there was perhaps a fire burning off in the distance. He couldn’t make it out but shouted loudly again for the nurse to come to him. A voice called back that she was on the phone to the doctor and that she would be up in a minute. That calmed him down a little but he knew that cup of tea would be undrinkable now and that his nemesis would not think of brewing him another cup. It wasn’t like it was rocket science for God’s sake he’d think to himself, as he wondered if anyone of his team-mates would visit him today. He knew they wouldn’t… over the past eight weeks a total of… zero… zilch… bugger all… not one of those bloody self-centred bastards had taken the trouble to come and visit or call to see how he was. It was as if no one even missed the fact that he wasn’t around anymore. “Bastards every fucking one of them” he thought… he couldn’t wait for the chance to ignore them once he was in full health. He looked out of the window again. Hell that black cloud was getting larger by the moment. It put him in mind of a sight he’d seen on a television nature programme where a plague of locusts had swooped in on some poor foreign country and eaten the area’s entire crops leaving the locals starving. It wasn’t a nice image but he’d been enthralled by what nature could do if it wanted and there was bugger all Man could do to stop it. * As he thought these thoughts… the black cloud seemed to separate and peel away in different directions. “How amazing” James thought and was even more amazed as after a few minutes the two separate clouds changed direction again and came as two parallel lines towards his home. He still couldn’t make out what it was but saw that it wasn’t two solid black entities but a multitude of separate moving parts. It was a swarm but, he wondered, a swarm of what? Again his mind went back to the locusts and he thought he was witnessing one of natures little quirks manifest itself in his back field. Suddenly for some reason James felt uncomfortable. Sweat had begun to form on his forehead and his body was clammy under the sheets. His bladder gave way as the green brackish liquid filled his already pretty soaked nappy and his bowel tightened as he tried to keep from messing in his thick protection. Pain stabbed at his insides as he failed to hold himself in check and a brown liquid steam oozed from his backside as he gave way to the excruciating agony that gripped his belly. He mournfully cried out through clamped shut eyes as if for some reason he knew… he just knew… that something terrible was about to happen. He was scared to open even one eye as he tried to block out what was waiting for him should he dare to even blink his eyes open for a split second. His misery got worse and he could feel his eyes, by some strange and malevolent entity, being prised open. He fought as hard as he could… crying out “No No No” to no one in particular… but suddenly his eyes were open wide. He blankly gazed out of his window… but the field had gone, the blue sky had gone, his newly budding trees were gone but there, hovering were a mass of shapes moving around… themselves seemingly caught up in some terrifying current of air. Images of bodies being tossed around at random… darting skyward and then plummeting earthward filled the view from his window. James was scared and transfixed as this myriad of changing, dark, yet animated, images appeared to clamour at his window. The buzz clattered against the window pane and he could make out that they were giant wasps. Terror tightly gripped his chest as he made the connection between his waking dream and his illness. There, beyond the window, was the cause of his situation but now they’d returned in their millions. Then it happened. * The cacophonous sound in his head surprised him. His blood ran cold as he tried desperately to heave himself from the bed and hide. The noise seemed to be calling to him, this time louder and more demanding. He hoped it would be the nurse at the doorway telling him off for being such a complaining baby but there was no one around. His body temperature was dropping quickly and his breathing got more and more laboured. His cold breath creating a small cloud as he breathed out but his face was drawn once again toward the window. All those millions of wasp-like images had become a solid mass of ghostly figures, which then became one. A face. A face that was beckoning James. “Come” The word came again this time demanding and commanding him for the final time. * The nurse arrived in the bedroom to find her charge cold and dead. His eyes were wide open in terror and his mouth locked in an unheard scream. She couldn’t understand what had happened and rushed to telephone the doctor who only minutes earlier had told her that he thought he’d found a solution to their patient’s problem. She didn’t see the black smudge retreating back over the blue horizon. She didn’t hear the return of birdsong that had been silenced for the last few minutes and she never saw the final tear trickle down the face of her charge. James was indeed dead but his torment was just beginning. ***** *****
  4. Maybe this should be in the Diaper References forum but whatever... Asking because I love to see ABDL mentions/references in movies (indie or mainstream)...ecspecially in horror since its my favorite genre. Also keep in mind for whatever reason ABDL content tends to show up quite frequently in horror cinema from what I have seen...(for example) Rupert (2017), Peelers (2016), Poultryguist (2006) Toxic Avenger 4 (2000)...plus of course, The Baby (1973) and Attack of the Adult Babies (2017) And yes I get the media in general does not happen to portray our community very fair "usually"...but this is just for fun. DONT TAKE THIS TOO SERIOUSLY GUYS! Lets actually SHOOT THE POOP! Btw by "references" that doesnt have to mean EXACT mentions to the ABDL fetish per say in Horror...rather that can mean horror movies where adults are treated like babies, wear diapers etc.
  5. Hay I am looking for a writer to commission, but he or she must be able to do horror and ABDL stuff, you see I have an idea were this curl business woman buys this doll and her life starts to fall apart.
  6. First I want to blame/thank @BabySofia for the idea behind this story while we were debating the Diaper Dimension. This is very different then anything else I have ever written and has been a joy and a complete pain in the padded butt. On that note I would like to thank @Pudding for being my editor and proof reader. The most powerful thing in this world, I think, is the bond between a mother and her child. A child’s inability to understand this correlation does not detract from it; for this bond transcends both the infinity and the very cosmos itself. Philosophers and scientists have, for countless ages, known of this power and sought to explain it. However, none have come to know the true nature behind this universal force as I have. While many were blind to this wellspring of latent potential that has existed since the time stars were young, others have awaited the herald of such to awaken once more. For unlike those who have lived in ignorance, I know now that those days are numbered; as for once a secret is learned, it can never be unlearned. Accidental is a term used by the weak minded, by those yet to grasp the complexity of the universe or its true plan. I stumbled upon this revelation on the eve of my 30th birthday. Gone from this world for four years my parents had been; the car they drove guiding them from this world and into the next. Or, at least, what was left of it. The all-consuming pain at their loss had taken years to heal, even with my only living relative, my Aunt Clara, helping what little she could. Just as her sister had been taken from this world, it seemed like a part of her had been taken as well. My Aunt seemed determined to bury herself in studies, the likes of which I believed best left alone, and her disappearance had come so suddenly and so unexpected, with the pieces and expectations left to fall upon me in her stead. The house felt bereft, and it was as though the walls themselves watched me as I explored the residence of my now lost relative. While the house itself drew no concern, Clara’s study was another matter entirely; inside I found an endless sea of books and notes, scattered across the room like a great hurricane destroyed the room and left the walls and ceiling intact. The floor boards wailed and creaked like banshees with each step I took, and among the mess of papers and detritus I suddenly found myself drawn to a small book. The cover was unlike anything my eyes had witnessed, not in this life and not in my darkest of nightmares; a diapered infant carved into the cover, embraced by tentacles emerging from an inhuman darkness. Below the picture there sat bizarre hieroglyphics that seemed otherworldly. Most unsettlingly, and without rhyme or reason, I understood what exactly was written, even without understanding the writing itself: Diapa'thulhu. A dominant, uncharted instinct compelled me to seize the malformed abomination of literature, and as I did I felt a sudden breeze running up my spine despite there being no logical point of origination. Shath'Yar Diapa'Thulhu Uovssh thyzz It was a whisper on the edge of my reality, an exotic and yet somehow horrifying sound in both sheer nature and the explainable contentment that came along with the sound, and I knew without knowing that I’d found why my aunt was missing. The book opened into my hands like an affectionate feline seeking attention, and more glyphs filled the pages. With my unexplained ability to read what I saw, I recited words that were certainly not of this world "Ph'Magg Pu'Elotha." For a fleeting moment, my mind felt on the edge of understanding something, something perhaps beyond this world, and then nothing. I dared not speak the indecipherable words again, knowing full well what I had said: "Endless torment in Pu'Elotha." Unable to comprehend what was happening, I left the building of horrors with her book, with hopes that within I’d discover more understanding. Obsession gripped me upon departure from the house, owing in certainty to the book. I’d discovered in time that it had been the diary of one Beth Lovecraft; a tome she’d penned following in the wake of her mother’s disappearance. The authoress had learned of a cult she believed had connections with her mother, and months she had concealed herself therein, learning of the true darkness obscured from the world of man. The cult dubbed it the “First Mother,” depicting a being older than time itself and with unexplainable and undeniable cosmic power and knowledge. This inheritance passed to its daughters of this world, the power of motherhood. A power known to all, but truth understood by none, save the Cult of the First Mother. A mother creates her offspring and from her bosom she nurtures life, to carry forth, and to do her will. In millennia past it had been betrayed, the creature’s own essence used against it, used to create a seal for all eternity. And though sealed, the power of Diapa’Thulhu still reached out to those that would heed the mothers call, to those who would break the seal, and bring the first mother into the world once more. The horrors Beth had witnessed were almost too much to read. The book told of a young woman brought in one night for dark rituals to bind her soul to that of the first mother, offering a microscopic amount of essence to the creature that it could one day be free. The screams of the women turned in pitch and tone to the squeals of an infant babe signaled the rituals completion. Gone was the woman she had once been, her eyes a deep unending blackness that sought to consume all who peered within. Clothed in only a diaper for all eternity, it had been told that even the name of such a garment grew from the First Mothers influence. One day, all would be one with Diapa’Thulhu, as this non-believer now had become. Men appeared to have had little use in such rituals, and though their fate would be the same as women, their essence lacked the capacity to free the abomination and they were thus afforded a limited freedom. Beth had fled shortly after her discovery mired in fear and guilt she returned to the family she had left behind. I began to fear my aunt had now passed the point of return, in much the same manner as Beth’s mother had been. I discovered a piece of paper hidden within the pages, revealing an address written in the unmistakable elegant scrawl of my aunt herself. I believed it was from this address that my aunt had obtained this item from Beth Lovecraft, and it signaled my last modicum of hope. This curse that had passed from person to person had now revealed to me a world unknown to most. My aunt was trapped within its walls and though I lacked optimism, I found little recourse. The next morning upon the eve of my 30th birthday, I arrived at the address left to me. A young woman answered my knocks and showed true apprehension when I showed the excretion of literature, and it was hard to blame her for such a response. Her name was Marcie Lovecraft, heiress and daughter to Beth of the same bloodline. After some convincing she agreed to take me to her mother, though she believed nothing could help me. An odd yet familiar feeling washed upon me as I entered; heat seemed to radiate from all directions as though I were inside hell itself. It wasn’t so much as to be unbearable, but it would seem to have been prudent to shed some layers of clothing. As we traveled further, a soft sent of baby powder permeated the halls, the sound of a baby’s lullaby just on the edge of hearing, and with each step I felt like I was descending deeper into my own demise. Our travels through halls rich with the hellish confluence of powder and brimstone came to an end when Marcie opened a door. Nothing I had witnessed up to this point could have prepared me for what I was so casually presented. The room was a nursery, almost like any other with one indisputable difference: the size and sense of scale. The bright pink color of the walls was almost blinding, contrasted by the misbegotten and grotesquely engorged baby toys scattered across the floor. White wooden prison bars made up a crib not dissimilar in size from the single bed I had awoke from earlier in the day. A malodorous sent of baby powder and ammonia drew my attention to a massive changing table, a small mobile circling above to vague attempt to offer some escape to the poor soul deprived the most basic concealment of their intimate parts. Movement drew my eyes to a figure in the middle of the room, a middle-aged woman, her mouth a pink empty mountain range in which rivers of saliva flowed over where teeth had once been. A waterfall that fell past her lips and joined the puddle forced on the small pink shirt that stopped just above her navel. Below the soaked through shirt, the women was adorned in an enormous diaper, the same hieroglyphics before, this time reading "Diapa’Thulhu Yu’Gaz." In abject horror I came to the realization that the adult sized infant before me was none other than Beth Lovecraft, although kneeling beside her to recite her name garnered neither response nor recollection. Only the feeling of my hands, of my touch, drew the attention of the perverse amalgamation, her head slowly turning to face me. An unnatural smile spread across her face in a manner I wasn’t certain a mortal being to be capable of, and at last she broke the silence; but not with words. A foul sound erupted from the seat of her diaper, and for reasons beyond my control I shifted my attention to the noise she had created in time to witness the seat of her diaper expanding outward like a balloon, bringing with it a smell I found both putrid and beautiful. Finally controlling my eyes, my stare shifted from the ever-spreading diaper to the infantized woman’s body; the pink shirt was now missing and left her naked save for her diaper, and salivaflowed like rivers of the pink toothless mountains that were her gums, splashing onto her now bared chest. Her eyes, pitch as black and darker than the blackest of nights found my gaze, and I was taken aback by the all-consuming darkness. As I stood and backed away, I felt something block my retreat. Diapa’Thulhu Yu’Gaz Lilth qi The whisper echoed through my mind and as if I was in a drunken stupor, it was as though the universe collapsed in on itself. I turned to in shock and my vision filled with the form of Beth's daughter, appropriately naked but for a diaper and with eyes as black as her mother’s and a pink pacifier between her lips. The darkness felt all consuming, like I was drowning in a sea of pitch I could never hope to escape. A river of gold flowed down my legs as I fought with all my might against the wamrth, but my body stayed fixed in place, immobile. I could feel it coming, an end to all that I was and all things in creation. I began to scream, in my mind and then out loud, as I clawed for the last vestiges of my sanity until… I woke. With a scream I sat up in the warm wet puddle that had become my bed. The terror was still fresh in my mind, how close I had been to oblivion I could never be sure. It had all seemed as real as this room did in this moment, and I couldn’t shake the feelings of what had just happened. The morning I spent calming my nerves, lost to the notion that what I had seen could very well be a glimpse into the future if I tumbled down the rabbit hole to this destination. A part of me couldn’t help but wonder, though, if the events that transpired in my mind were done just to ward me from proceeding. Could it be that somehow this… malformation of the primordial universe… could it feel my fear? Never before had a choice so simple in design but so complex in its variables ever been presented, not in my life or anybody else’s, I was certain. A choice that could reshape not only me, but the entire world. Deformed curiosity and dread guided my actions, and I knew in the deepest of truths that I’d come too far to give up now. If the grotesque book of malice written by Beth was to be believed, then this world sits on borrowed time. And If there is even a single iota of justice and righteousness in the infinite cosmos then perhaps there is a way to stop such a malformation. Confusion had become alarmingly normal for me now, and as I researched my inevitable destination, I learned that it was not within the city, but situated in the mountains to the east. My maps only revealed roads that had once been, even from a Gods-Eye View, a vantage perversely delivered by satellite, produced nothing but rock and tree. And as the roads of the mountain became worse and worse, it was clear that no simple automobile would finish this the journey and thus I set out to complete it by foot. The journey along the long-abandoned, long-neglected, road had been an unnatural silence, nary a bird in the sky or a breath of wind, and at last I found my destination in a wash of both relief and disappointment. What I beheld was an old cottage sitting inclined against the side of the mountain, long forgotten by time as much as the stone itself. "Diapa’Thulhu Yu’Gaz Lilth qi" The whisper on non-existent wind burned a message upon me that I was in the right place. The cottage was old and rotten, parts of the roof had collapsed upon itself in the fatigue of time and the structure was empty and decrepit that it any wonder it had not collapsed yet. My attention was suddenly drawn to a carving in the wall that faced the mountain, a something that I had seen many times during the past few days: Diapa’Thulhu. My hand extended almost of its own volition, touching the carving of the abominations name and I found it strangely warm. I pushed against it slightly and as I did, the wall of the rotten wood cottage detached and opened as an ersatz door, revealing that the cottage had been built only to hide this concealed chasm. Beyond the door, immesne stone pillars lead the way into the chasm, long ago constructed only to house something never intended to be found. Shath'Yar Diapa'Thulhu Uovssh thyzz Pu'Elotha A monumental gate of phantasmal tentacles that seemed to reach into the very void from whence it came stood before me. I could not understand how such a structure could exist; its very geometry seemed an affront to the laws of physics, and at that moment I finally understood where I truly was... "Pu'Elotha" Saying it aloud caused my mind to explode in static that I couldn’t assigned a feeling to, was this a boon or a torture? Slowly the phantasmal tentacles began to recede from the heavens and opened the way into pure darkness. The calming and now familiar scent of baby powder rose from the unending blackness, and a faint sound could be heard lost to distance, so much like in my dream. I wasn’t sure how long I traveled through the darkness, like time itself was swallowed too, but all at once when I turned to look behind me I was no longer wrapped in void; I had entered a nursery much like the horrifying nightmare had portrayed. The room was not empty, however, and the mindless slaves of the creature were scattered across the expanse of frightening stuffed animals, tended and doted over by mindless caretakers that moved and acted like nannies. The subjects to be tended to were naked, it seemed, save for oversized diapers that were so large and thick that teetered on the edge of consuming them whole. My eyes scanned the room and in a moment of bittersweet conflict, they came to rest on someone I didn’t dare hope to see again: my aunt. There was a smell of rotting death emanating from the brown stained seat of her diaper and just below her navel I could see a tattoo I had seen before, only now it seemed to pulse a dark and ancient power. Despite her state, even knowing my aunt was alive filled me with the pinnacle of hope I needed in that moment. Drool dripped on her lips as she loudly smashed two blocks together over and over. It was hard to see her like this. Resolved and resolute, I leaned with outstretched hands to pluck her from this mirage of nightmares. Before I could react, however, my aunt dropped her block and grabbed both sides of my head with her hands, forcing pure darkness of her eyes directly into my soul. The black was consuming all over again, and I felt everything falling into nothing no matter how hard I pulled or fought against it the tugging inside of me. The dark was all I could see and her hands still held me in place until finally they no longer did; like her hands had suddenly disappeared and the world itself vanished alongside. Though my head was free, I was enveloped by inky ichor, with the terrifying sound of something slithering and squishing in deep in the void. And it was getting louder, closer. And I learned in quick measure that the only thing more impossible then the darkness itself was the creature born from it, the figure that rose up before me. Words failed to capture the juxtaposition of horror and beauty, nor the way the creature shifted and changed, as if it's form was being concentrated or swallowed, mashed together by an errant force. A young woman stepped forward, leaving the shell of what had been an unimaginable abomination but remaining wrapped up in it like a perverse paradox. Her eyes were closed as she approached, her hand outstretched invitingly and threateningly, and I felt my clothing fall from my body like hourglass sand, if only the sand ceased to exist before hitting the bottom. Be it by fear or some other unknown force, my body would not act as I commanded. The creature placed its appendage just below my navel, and I felt a distant and yet fiercely hot burning sensation. If I had the ability to scream, I would have, for when the vile creature had lifted her touch, I saw the same marking I’d witnessed upon my aunts broken body. And from the marking, one beautiful, oily dark and perfect hand slid down, while the other pulled up on my chin to bring my gaze in line with the gorgeous voids that would be her eyes. The familiar, breathtaking, beautifully terrifying darkness. “Diapa’Thulhu Yu’Gaz Lilth qi” Her words sounded like hundreds upon millions of voices spoke as one intent, and the result upon me was immediate and instant. Horrifying and fantastic power flowed through my body as the creature’s appendage found my most intimate spot, suddenly no longer a hand as it moved and wiggled between my legs. All-encompassing pleasure began to drive me mad, and I couldn’t understand what was being done to my womanhood, I couldn’t process a feeling that no mortal was ever meant to feel. The void consumed my soul, while the pleasure consumed my body and mind, and if I didn't run now, I knew this would be the end of me. I fought for minutes, months, years, I was so unsure and it was though time had no meaning here and every tick of the nonsensical clock had slipping further and further until finally her lips embraced mine. And as her warmth touched me, my world exploded into a pleasure I never wanted to leave. An ocean of wetness had burst forth from my loins and none of it dribbled down my legs, my new mother’s hand pulled away from my crotch and I heard an all too familiar crinkle that heralded the essence of the mother. I felt the tentacle tongue of my beautiful mother caress the toothless mounds of pink gums until it reached deep into my soul. For the briefest of moments as her lips pulled free of mine, I felt and then saw a strange spiritual essence leave my body to join hers. Trickles of drool fell from my lips upon my mostly naked body, and I giggled as the crinkling sound returned. The sound became a feeling and the the feeling was the seat of my mother’s power wrapped around my loins expanding, filled with a foul substance that caused me no end of delight. The act of soiling myself felt so natural, as though I was always meant to and always would forever more. Mothers hand shifted once more as it reached around to squish the seat of my diaper with a tendril, and she smiled as she spoke. "Krz'ek fhn'z agash Diapa'Thulhu! Sk'yahf guulphg hoq!" My legs became useless as I tumbled downward, landing my wondrously repulsive bottom dressed in crinkled mushy excrement upon the floor. I couldn’t walk and I no longer possessed the knowledge how to, nor did I care. Mother retreated into the darkness, allowing the light of the room to come into focus. In the nursery I sat before my stinky sister that I had once called an aunt. My sister propped herself on all fours and crawled away, and unable to follow her, I remained. For everything I am is what my mother allows me to me, I am whatever she wants me to be, I am her unless, foul, dirty, mindless baby. I am filled with more joy and delight, for this is what mother had planned for me the moment I entered my former aunts home. Soon the universe would know our mothers power and be one with her, much as I am now, for I now know the power of this bond... Shath'Yar Diapa'Thulhu Uovssh thyzz Pu'Elotha Diapa’Thulhu Yu’Gaz Lilth qi Krz'ek fhn'z agash Diapa'Thulhu! Sk'yahf guulphg hoq! Mother Diaper'Thulhu waited so long in Pu'Elotha Diapa'Thulhu Servant, you will be Your pitiful kind will know only Diapa'Thulhu! Your soul will sustain me!
  7. Hi everyone! This story is a repost, from an old story I wrote back in 2013. It's been about 5 years since I initially began writing this story, and with the recent purge of this forum section, I figured I'd not just post this story, but I'd rewrite it entirely! Or, essentially, I took the entire story, and redrafted it to make it more reader friendly (as well as fix a few plot holes and update some of the subjects, i.e, diapers, phone conversations). Anyways, I hope you like it. I'll try to speed through posting these, since I have to get these posted before I go back to my university. --- CHAPTER 1: The Backwoods Here in Maisefeld, USA, the town is generally flat, with the exception of a rolling hills, and the backwoods that exist on the outskirt of town. I'd consider our town pretty small; with about 20,000 people. You see, I live in a small, one story house with my Mom and we just happen to live near the suburban outskirts, with a very large "backyard", consisting of a nearly never ending backwood. Ever since I was a kid, I was told "Alex, never go into the Maisefeld Backwoods by yourself!". I've been told stories of children who go missing, adults who have gotten lost for days, and pets who run away, never to return. But I shouldn't have to fear that anymore, right? I mean, I'm 14 for lord's sake. Well, to be fair, maybe I’m grown up enough to go into the woods. I mean, I haven't even advanced from diapers yet... After my Dad passed away when I was 4, my potty training never really worked out, and eventually, I never grew out of diapers. The financial burden was rough at times growing up, but eventually Mom figured a way to bill them through our healthcare provider, I think. She stopped diapering me when I was 9, and now, 5 years later, I’m still in diapers. It's nice, because in public, I never have to ask for the bathroom. It’s sounds luxurious, but in reality, it’s a bit tricky to deal with. However, that’s not what this story’s about… I got home from school today, on a Wednesday, and had to use my diaper, so I could poop. As usual, I threw my backpack and jacket on the floor, took off my pants, and gazed out the back door, to relax and concentrate on messing. The woods were so dark from the pine trees filtering the light of the day. My eyes gazed across the forest, taking note of every stick and branch that had fallen into it’s new place on the forest floor, and judging the distance from our backyard fence, across the dirt pathway, into the layers of dead leaves and sticks. While I slowly used my diaper, I noticed something a bit out of place more than usual. I squinted my eyes and recognized a red plastic ball. It was just a few feet into the woods, as if a child had thrown it over the fence. Thinking it was one of the neighbors, I slid open the glass door, and walked out to my backyard fence. I stood behind the gate, and set my head on the fence; the brick walls of suburbia lined the dirt path for hundreds of yards, until it curved with the housing tract. Noticing no one was around, I figured the ball must have been blown into the forest by the wind. The ball was a stark red color, and seemed the be the only vibrant object in the woods. It was just a ball, so I went back inside, and shut the door. My diaper needed changing and was starting to stink, so I went into the bathroom to take care of it. After a few hours of homework and another diaper change, my Mom came home a bit late, muttered a ‘hello’ to me, then went to bed. As a single parent, she’s been struggling to balance a hectic work life and a personal life at home. Recently, she’s been dating again, and is trying to move us into a nicer home. It’s made me a bit of a latchkey kid, since she’s always out of the house, but as long as she’s happy, I am too. At around 8pm, I walked back to the backdoor, and stared out the window, to see if the red ball was still there. I walked back outside and found that it had disappeared, perhaps lost into the woods, or picked up by someone walking the back alley behind the housing tract. Behind my fence is a small dirt alley that separates the backyards of the homes on our cul-de-sac from the surrounding wilderness. I've always assumed a pipeline is underneath the dirt alley. I looked in my neighbor's backyard and found nothing, and the house to the left of mine is vacant, with no red ball to be found. Quickly, the cold air got the best of me, and I went back inside. An hour later, I turned off the TV, then shut off all the lights; closing up for the night. As I turned out the living room light, I caught a shadow move near the window in the corner of my eye. I turned quickly and stopped for a second. I stayed still for about a minute, looking for some movement to see if I was seeing anything. After a minute of waiting, I finally turned around and went to bed. Regardless, it gave me chills. —- And now Chapter 2: --- CHAPTER 2: An Abduction The crack of dawn woke me up, and brought me back to reality. I threw off the covers, and sat up to the familiar sight of a soaked diaper. It crinkled noticeably as I threw off the blanket and walked to the shower to get ready. Less than an hour later, I was on my walk to school. It’s nice because school is just a few blocks away in a flat town, so I would walk to school everyday; Mom used to drive me to school until I started high school. The air was cold, and seemed to burn my face as I walked against the wind. Another 10 minutes later, I was at school, and headed to class as the bell rang. My morning classes were always the worst. During lunch, I met with my closest friend, Cameron. We don’t share a clique or anything, but we hang out a lot outside of class. What’s special about Cameron is his passion for diapers, which is a something we share. Though, Cameron doesn’t wear diapers everyday like I do. “Hi, Cameron,” I said, walking up to him. He greeted me casually, and we exchanged a fair amount of banter, before he said, “Did you hear about what happened last night?”. I shook my head, confused. “Well, apparently Joey was kidnapped. You know, that really short freshman we always see slouched down by the 100s bungalows?” Cameron continued. I wasn’t too familiar with who he was referring, but knowing some kid in our small school was abducted, was… unsettling, to say the least. “Joey? The short, dirty blonde haired kid?” I recalled. “Yeah, I guess so. He lived on the other side of town by the woods. I’d be careful.” Cameron said, taking off his backpack, and slumping down against the chemistry building’s wall, opposite me. Cameron also mentioned how he read, Joey stated he ‘felt like someone was watching him all the time’. “Why?” I asked, now a bit concerned. Cameron looked up at me, “Because those woods are sketchy. From what I read, he went out to the dirt alley behind his house, and that was the last time he was heard from.”. I shook a bit from the cold air, “I-I’ll be fine, I’m sure of it. Anyways, what are you doing after school? I was wondering if you wanted to hang out?”. Cameron took out his phone to check a text, then replied, “Uhh, my Mom wanted me to go to church this evening, but I think I can blow it off. You have anything good at your place?”. “Yes, my new diapers are getting dropped off sometime today, I think you’d like these!” I enthusiastically grinned as I kept my voice down. Cameron looked away and smiled, then said, “Nice, let me just text my Mom, then I'll be good to hang out.”. He said, before he stood up, and we walked back to class. After school, Cameron and I met up just outside the front office and we walked home together. The weather had warmed up a little, but the breeze was starting to pick up, so we rushed home. Scathed by the dry cold air, we finally got home in record time; I made sure to pick up the heavy box of diapers off the porch, and put them on the kitchen table to open. The first thing I did when I got inside was make sure the back door was locked, before I began opening up the box. “ABUniverse? How can you afford these?” Cameron asked, as I pulled out one of the eight packs of diapers. “Mom got a raise a month ago, or so. She asked me what I should order, and I took your advice.” I smiled, dumping the other seven packs onto the carpet from the cardboard box; there were 3 packs of Simple, 3 packs of Space, and 2 packs of Little Pawz. “Quality stuff, dude! I’m excited for you.” He said, opening the plastic on a ‘Little Pawz’. “They might be a bit big on you and me, since the website said the minimum waist size is 31”.” I said, as he pulled out a diaper that seemed to be larger than his head. He didn’t waste any time, as he quickly pulled off his pants and underwear, exposing himself to me. In a flash, Cameron unfolded the diaper, threw it between his legs, pulled the wings up, and taped on the tapes. The diaper looked a little bit big, but the tapes didn’t touch each other, so I figured the size fit well. Meanwhile, I piled the remaining seven packs of diapers into my arms, and began to carry them to my room. “Aaah…” He sighed, while a very noticeable yellow stain poured down the front of the diaper, accompanied by the audible hissing of his pee, which faded out quickly, “I’m done.” He said moments later, straightening his posture. “You should’ve waited, a little while, now you’re stuck in a wet diaper.” I giggled as I walked to my room; arms full. “I had to go, bad! Plus it’s not like I’ll be wearing it all day, I got stuck going to that crappy church event.” His voice echoed from the family room. “You couldn’t get out of that?” I yelled from my room, while I tossed the bags onto my bed to be put away later. “Nope, and I’m not wearing this to church!” He let out a laugh. It’s humorous, but I remember when his Mom caught him wearing one of my diapers a few months ago. Last September, Cameron was wearing one of my diapers when he had to go back home. He figured it wasn’t a big deal; yet, his parents took him out clothes shopping directly after picking him up, and his Mom discovered his wet diaper under a pair of Arizona jeans he was trying on. First thing she did was send him to a psychotherapist then made him clean out his closet, in hopes of getting rid of anything he may have been hiding. Since then he hasn't brought another diaper home since. —-
  8. Among the sleep is one of the newest and best looking first person survival
  9. I started typing up this story a few weeks ago, and wanted to get this out since it's timely with Halloween coming up. I hope you like it. The follow story takes place in October 1999. _________ The Nightman Chapter 1
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    Horror Con

    From the album: My art

    A lil photo I did at the horror con. I love playing with photo editing,
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