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exhex

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exhex last won the day on October 6 2016

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  1. Thanks for the responses, folks. I think my mind was made up to not take this commission before I even posted originally; I just needed to think “out loud,” so to speak. Thanks again for the good and practical view points.
  2. Hello. It’s been quite a long time since I’ve posted on these boards (though I’ve remained a lurker for much of that time), but I wanted to get some opinions on an ethical dilemma I’m having involving writing AB/DL content. I was recently commissioned to write a story for a fellow AB. This story strongly focuses on an adult male who is regressed physically to the appearance of an infant. The requested has also stated that while the character retains their adult consciousness, they would also lose some aspects of their mental abilities. In drafting an outline for this story, I find myself uncomfortable with the bigger picture this story fits into. Whether the main character is, essentially, an adult or not, he is to be eventually represented as a physical infant (with mental limitations on top of that) and is left to be exploited by the other main character. Even if I was to actively avoid any reference, mention, or allusion to one of the characters deriving pleasure from this - there’s no doubt that the story’s requester is. Normally, I avoid stories like this, full stop. This isn’t a judgment of anyone else who enjoys physical-regression stories or writes them, but I personally see a gray area in stories like this that I don’t normally want to touch. I know I’m probably going to go with my gut on this and pass on the commission (unless large changes are made to the story the requester wants). It isn’t my intent to cause any argument or debate here. I just wanted to hear some other opinions on this. Do you think I’m being unreasonable? Do you feel that there’s a place for this kind of content because the actual ages of everyone involved are above the age of consent? Thank you in advance.
  3. Situations like this are a little tough for an internet community that A) doesn't know all of the details and can't exactly trust the source.
  4. I'm eager to see where this goes. It's "different," and while that can mean a great number of things, in this case its something quite positive. You made the right decision in not posting this in RP, as I think it transcends what expectations I'd have of RP posts. A very solid start.
  5. Hey, a general question about the updates. There's a photo that was in one of the photo updates about a month or so ago that I've been looking for. I was hoping to find it in the MegaPics, but I can't seem to locate it there either. It wasn't a paysite sample. Is there another way of looking at photos from recent updates? Thanks in advance.
  6. Just because of the lack of second-person present tense stories, it's inevitable that you might draw comparisons to the (very) few other writers who use that style. Still, I thought this took the approach in a different direction and was a really great read. The italicized phrases, the thoughts of your playmate, intrigue me though, as being in the context of this style of story they almost come off as the thoughts that she is being forced to have through your actions and your control. Looking forward to more.
  7. I haven't written much as of late, real life being the bitch that it is, but I've had some ideas for shorter stories that I've been wanting to explore. Finally, when I had a little time on my hands, I decided to try one out. What follows is the entirety of the story. There won't be any more added to it in the future. Take note: I didn't do much editing or proofreading on the story...I simply wanted to sit down, type it out and walk away. I apologize in advance for any grammatical errors or otherwise. Enjoy! She could’ve sworn that she just saw the minute hand of the clock go backwards. Or, more likely, she was just that bored. She didn’t need to be here today. She knew this material. Unlike the other imbeciles that sat around her, she studied her notes and read ahead in the chapter. Not only was she ready for the test, but she felt like she could be the one in the front of the class right now, writing things on the blackboard. College life was important to her, but that didn’t mean that she enjoyed it. She simply wanted to succeed in life. In order to that, or so she had been told her entire life, was to go to college and get a piece of paper saying that she was worth slightly more than if she didn’t have a piece of paper. This was just a stepping stone. She could do this with her eyes closed. She was bored. She was bored all the time. Classes aside, the entire college experience was boring to her. A social life was of little use to her, and the very idea of being trapped in a party with all of the loud music and drunk kids repulsed her. She had considered getting a job; at least then she’d be making some money while toiling away at some menial task. Money wasn’t something she was necessarily in need of for now though, thanks to Daddy’s wallet. There were times she resented having the road ahead of her paved in gold with his money. There were other times, though, where she gladly took it…considering that she never really got little else from him. She shifted in her seat slightly, as she had found herself pondering the hardness of the desk chair. This brought her attention to something else entirely, as her bottom seemed to glide over a slight bulge between her legs. She smiled. This was her entertainment. It had started, as most things do, on a small scale. As long as the world around her was going to be so boring, that didn’t mean that she couldn’t do little things here and there to enhance her experience of it. On a whim one day, she decided not to wear her panties for an entire day. All day she walked around in her pants, taking a little joy from the idea that nobody around her knew that she was without panties. She would escalate it, wearing a skirt without panties. It required a little more care in her movements, but this only provided a greater thrill. When that had run its course, she decided to find other things to entertain herself with; small challenges that kept her in her own little world. She had come to experiment with remote-control vibrators and butt plugs, finding that blending public sexual expression with the risk of humiliation was exactly what she needed to get herself through the next few years. It was an accident, pun intended, in which she discovered what she had considered the goldmine of her self-entertainment. One night, she opted to go for a walk to the grocery store to pick up a few odds and ends for her apartment. It was only a 15 minute walk, but there were times when she was just in the mood to stretch it out a little, this being one of them, and she decided to take the long way – adding another 15 minutes to her walk time. During the walk, she was suddenly hit by the urge to pee. This sort of thing happened from time to time on her walks, but it was never of much concern to her since she could usually just use the restroom at the store when she got there. But seeing as how this was the long way, and her urges were a little stronger than usual, her mind began to mull over a few things. What if…she didn’t use the restroom at the grocery store? She walked a little farther. What would that mean? Well, she’d have to wait until she got home. However, that might be a while, and she had to go now. What if she took the long way home, she considered. It was a devious thought, but she was still trying to feel out what it was she wanted to do. She liked the idea of putting herself at risk of having an accident in her pants in public. What she wasn’t as sure about was the idea of actually having an accident in her pants in public when she wasn’t ready for it. Walking around the grocery store in pissed jeans was a sure-fire way to ensure that she was known as College Piss-Girl from now until she graduated. What she needed was a way to put herself at risk of peeing her pants in public without having to worry about what would happen if she actually did piss herself. There was an option, of course. Diapers. Not only were those the exact answer to her dilemma, but they might have actually been a little hotter than just pissing in her jeans outright. There she was, little college girl, walking around in diapers under her clothes…maybe even pissing them, while nobody knew the better. In class, now, she had come a long way since buying her first pack of diapers from the grocery store a few months ago. She wore them often now, especially to class where she was free to wet herself in little spurts through-out her classes, gradually saturating her diaper while everyone mindlessly scribbled notes or texted each other on their phones. A thought had come to mind recently, and it had inserted itself into her brain in a way that she just couldn’t ignore. It was the kind of thought that kept coming back, stronger and stronger. Everytime she brushed it off as being silly or impossible, it’d come back again, forcing her to reconsider it. The thought? What if she did more than just wet herself during class? She had done some experimenting with her diapers, of course. She had wet them hundreds of times. She wet them when she wore nothing except for her diapers, watching in the mirror. She wet them while walking. She had wet them while studying. She had wet them while buying shoes. She knew she could wet diapers on demand. Messing her diapers, that was a little tougher, but it was something she desperately wanted to do. And she did. Over and over, mostly in the privacy of her apartment (with the exception of once while on a nice long walk back from the grocery store) she had messed her diapers, taking immense joy in the humiliating sexual release that came from acting like an overgrown toddler with a droopy diaper. This was a far more dangerous proposal. Messing her diaper while in class, with everyone around her, was not like wetting herself. When she wet her diapers in class, nobody knew. Even in the rare occasion that she could smell her own wet diaper, she knew that the rest of the class seemed oblivious to it. Messing herself was a sure fire way to bring unwanted attention to herself. People would know, and they would smell it. IN fact, the very act of messing her diaper might arouse suspicion. How does one simply sit there and force a big load into their diapers? A grunt could slip from her mouth, or she may unconsciously have to awkwardly lift her diapered bum from the seat to allow room for her load to fill the diaper. At least if it was just the smell, there was a good chance that people might not suspect that it was coming from her. She had thought about it for days and she had looked at the situation from every angle possible. There just didn’t seem to be any way for her to do it without causing the entire classroom to become aware of what she had done. The thought persisted, though, and the fantasy of the act became stronger and stronger, filling her thoughts while she lazily daydreamed in class. Every day, she thought about it and considered it. There were a few times when she literally thought she was going to start grunting and pushing until something came out into her diaper, but she’d always reel herself in and remind herself of where she was. Today, thought, things were getting close to unbearable. Her diaper, barely concealed by her black skirt, was rubbing between her legs in just the right way whenever she so much as took too deep of a breath. Class was especially boring today. She should be up there, she thought again, teaching. This thought turned into a small daydream where she was, in fact, at the head of the class, teaching her students while fighting off the urge to use her diaper in front of her entire class. Finally, the urge overwhelmed her, and she stopped lecturing for a moment and gently bent her knees, pushing as her diaper filled up. In her mind, she could see the students’ expressions: shocked and confused. The confusion would wear off though, and when the smell of her diapers hit them, there’d be laughter. There’d be mocking. There’d be hands pulling off her skirt, revealing her loaded diapers to the world. She’d simultaneously be crying and moaning. She’d… She realized that she had drifted off a little bit. She looked around the classroom. Nobody seemed to have noticed. The closest other student to her, a guy with a bad haircut and a fading soccer jersey, was furiously typing away at a message on his phone. There was no attention on her. That thought was in her head again, and she couldn’t get rid of it. She wanted it, and she wanted it bad. The part of her brain that usually dictated logic and kept the balance between fantasy and reality seemed to have shut down, or at least it was weakened to the point where fantasy had overrun it. She bit her lip and wet herself a little more. She had wet it once not long after class had begun. Not a lot, but just a little. She had gotten pretty good at just wetting the diaper a little bit at a time, as to not overwhelm the diaper and cause a leak. But her desire and craving for fantasy seemed to have effected her ability to control her bladder too, and she wet the diaper a lot more than she intended to. She quickly felt around her skirt, making sure that there weren’t any leaks. There didn’t seem to be any so far, which was good. Meanwhile, the hot wet diaper stuck to her skin in such a way that it was driving her crazy. Okay, she thought to herself suddenly, I’m going to do this. She closed her eyes and pushed. Nothing. She pushed harder, feeling her bowels stirring, but it didn’t seem to be enough. She stopped herself for a moment and looked around again, noting that nobody was paying attention to her still. She pushed again, even harder. She let out a little grunt as she did so. Just a small “ugh.
  8. I finally caught up with this story this morning, something I wished I had done earlier. You have an interesting concept and I'd love to see where you're going with it. It does remind me an awful lot of a mini-series that was on TV a year or two ago called Persons Unknown. I don't mean that as an insult or a comparison, its really just a testament of how many directions a story like this can go. Anyways, looking forward to reading more. Y'know, I've never had a problem with Gerald's Game. I totally understand the hate that the book gets, but I have always had a soft spot for it. Who else could make such a dense book out of such a minimalist environment? King, that's it.
  9. Just want to reiterate this. The SOPA itself may not come into fruition, but it's the start of what will be a number of similar bills that lobby groups would like to aggressively push. The blackout, and things like writing to your congressmen, are still just as important in letting our government know where we stand on acts similar to this one.
  10. There's just so much in this thread to agree with. I really don't want to re-hash what has already been said. WB and Betty both made some great points and offer some good advice for anyone willing to listen. That said, I wanted to offer something a little more positive: The state of the ab/dl writing community is light years beyond what it was years ago, when I first found people with similar interests as me on the Internet. When I was a young teenager, stumbling on the internet for the first times and seeking out ab/dl stories, the ONLY thing I could find were the types of stories that WBDaddy described (and mocked, for good reason) earlier. Since then, I've seen some incredibly clever takes on the subject in stories I've read over the years. They're not as plentiful as I would like (again, new readers, please refer to the the posts above mine. Print them out. Tattoo them on your arms), but they're there. My optimistic hope is that as new people search the internet for ab/dl stories for the first time, they are having a much easier time finding fresh and original writing on the subject and are inspired to write similarly.
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