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  1. Critiques and Writer's Discussion

    For more in-depth critiques of stories and story writing discussion.

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    Area for Finished Stories. Message Elfy to have your story moved here.

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    For Pictures, Comics and Anything Else Artistic.

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  5. AI Stories

    For any story that uses AI in any significant fashion. See rules inside if you have used AI to decide if your story belongs here.

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    • I have been 24/7 for 16 months this time. Previously I have had periods of a month or so in cheap drug store diapers with subsequent leaks. So my last day in underwear was the one which made me decide to get serious about 24/7 and premium products. I was doing dishes, the faucet was running, and so was the pee running down my legs. This had been happening frequently, and I thought "if I need diapers to wash dishes or brush my teeth, then I need diapers period".l define incontinence as loss of control. In that sense, I see myself as partially incontinent, but not at all fully incontinent. i have had some uncontrolled #2s, but I make a practice of sitting on the potty after breakfast. Most of the time that works and frees me from worry the rest of the day. I don't want messy diapers. In urination, I dribble during the day unless I'm in a stressful situation. I don't feel a need to pee; instead there is feeling that I am about to or already wetting. During the night I wake up 3-5 times not feeling an urge but a fullness and the thought that I'd better wet now or I won't get any sleep. In the night it's often hard to get started unless I press on the bladder area. And then I don't know when I'm finished. In other words, I mostly don't know the state of my bladder. Is it full or not? I know it's never totally empty because I have a big bladder stone causing retention. I don't have to diaper check because I'm almost always wet. I usually wet a new diaper shortly after a change. Weight and sag tell when a change is near.   Functionally, I am totally dependent on a diaper. That may be partly just fear of accidents. But I do dribble to and from the shower. When I air out I wet whatever absorbent is under me. Husband (who enjoys making comments about my padded butt) and a few friends know. I don't try to hide, but do try wear clothes that are not too obvious. Medical. Urologist knows and respects my desire not to try any more procedures. I get Ct scans periodically in diapers which the gowns can't possibly hide. I have been in the hospital and rehab, and both have treated me as incontinent. The hospital connected me via an external catheter to a suction tube connected to a collection apparatus on the wall. Rehab staff changed me in their diapers on their schedule. Daily routine is either two or three changes a day. Two if #2 and shower happen by 10 am. Three if shower is later. My usual diaper is a boosted Megamax at night. And either Megamax or Abena m4 in the day 
    • Watching "Soap" for the win 😀
    • I did a haul on Sunday. Like mentioned earlier I can't fit everything in the bin as it's shared and I only throw out on trash day.  I use black bags.  When I start driving more often, I can spread my trash all over the country.  (In  bins of course... no idea why I need to mention that...)
    • 34qucker is on Fetlife under the same handle, and he posts his art there as well. 
    • Chapter 4: Back at home, Jill moved through the front door with quiet efficiency, careful not to wake Jack as she brought everything inside. The house felt calm again—familiar, safe.   She set the grocery bags down, then gently lifted him from the stroller. He stirred just slightly, his head resting against her shoulder, still caught in that soft space between sleep and waking.   “Let’s get you comfy,” she whispered.   After a quick diaper change—her movements gentle, practiced, and unhurried—Jill carried him over to the playpen. She laid him down carefully, adjusting the soft blanket beneath him and tucking Flopsy close at his side.   Jack shifted once, letting out a small sleepy sound, his pacifier still in place. His fingers curled loosely into the fabric of the blanket, and within seconds, he settled again.   Jill lingered for a moment, resting her hand lightly against his back.   He really needed this nap, she thought, watching the slow rise and fall of his breathing. It’s been a full morning.   There was something about seeing him like this—completely at peace—that made everything else feel quieter.   She stepped away softly, making sure the monitor was on before leaving the room.   ⸻   Once back in the living area, Jill grabbed a notebook and a pen, settling at the table. The shift from caretaker to planner came naturally now, though it still carried its own kind of weight.   “Alright…” she murmured under her breath.   She flipped to a clean page and began working on the guest list for the at-home birthday celebration. Names came to her steadily—friends, familiar faces, people who had been part of their journey in one way or another.   She started drafting RSVPs, carefully writing out names and addresses, making small notes beside each one. Who might bring something, who needed a reminder, who would definitely show up early.   Her handwriting slowed for a moment as she paused.   I want this to feel special, she thought, tapping the pen lightly against the page. Not just a party… something he can feel. Something safe. Something happy.   Her mind shifted to decorations.   Lisa.   Jill made a small note to reach out. Lisa’s shop had already helped bring the nursery to life so beautifully—there was no doubt she’d have ideas for the party too. Decorations, themed tableware, maybe even little party favors for the guests.   That’ll be fun, Jill thought, a small smile forming. Another outing for us.   She leaned back slightly, considering her options. Maybe later today, after his nap and lunch… or tomorrow if he needs more rest. She didn’t want to rush it. Jack did best when things felt steady, not packed too tightly.   Her phone buzzed lightly on the table, pulling her attention.   A message from Mrs. Turner.   Jill opened it, reading through with a thoughtful expression. Mrs. Turner wanted to stop by for a visit—a simple chat, nothing formal.   Jill hesitated for a moment before typing a response.   It’s so nice out… she thought, glancing toward the window where sunlight spilled across the floor. It’d be better to get him outside again.   She suggested meeting at the park later in the week instead.   A moment later, the reply came back—enthusiastic agreement.   Jill smiled faintly. That’ll be good. For all of us.   ⸻   With her notes written and plans loosely set, Jill closed the notebook and set it aside.   For the first time since they’d gotten home, she allowed herself to pause.   She moved to the couch, settling into the cushions and turning on one of her shows. The familiar voices filled the room, low and comforting, blending into the quiet hum of the house.   But even as she watched, her mind drifted.   To the bakery.   To the way Jack’s face had lit up at the cakes.   To how small he’d seemed when he tried to hide behind Flopsy.   To how quickly he had melted back into comfort when she reassured him.   Her chest tightened slightly—not in a painful way, but in something deeper.   He trusts me with so much, she thought.   It wasn’t something she took lightly.   Every choice she made, every plan she put together—it all came back to that. Making sure he felt safe, understood, cared for in a way that truly reached him.   Her eyes flicked briefly toward the hallway, toward the room where he was sleeping.   We’re building something good, she told herself quietly.   The party plans, the decorations, the guest list—they were all coming together piece by piece.   And underneath it all was something even more important.   A home that felt right.   Jill exhaled softly, letting herself relax into the moment as the show played on.   For now, everything was exactly where it needed to be.   A couple of hours slipped by quietly, the house resting in that soft, mid-afternoon stillness. Then, from down the hall, came the faint rustle of movement.   Jack stirred.   He blinked sleepily, taking a moment to orient himself before slowly pulling himself up, his small hands gripping the playpen bars. He peeked over the top, hair slightly tousled, pacifier still in place.   “Mama…” he called softly.   From the couch, Jill looked up almost instantly. Her expression warmed the second she saw him.   “Well, hi there,” she said gently, already on her feet.   She crossed the room and knelt beside the playpen, meeting him at eye level. “Did you have a good nap?”   Jack gave a small nod, still waking up, his eyes a little heavy but brighter now that he’d found her.   Jill reached in and lifted him out with ease, settling him against her chest. He leaned into her without hesitation, arms loosely wrapping around her as she carried him back to the couch.   “Come here,” she murmured, easing down into the cushions with him in her lap.   For a few quiet moments, they just stayed like that—Jack tucked against her, Jill gently rubbing his back, letting him fully wake up at his own pace.   “I was thinking,” Jill began softly after a bit, glancing down at him, “maybe we go to the park later this week. Mrs. Turner wants to meet up.”   Jack shifted slightly so he could look at her, his expression calm and receptive.   “Sound okay?” she asked.   He nodded again, a little more certain this time.   Jill smiled faintly. “Good. I think you’ll like that.”   There was a small pause, and then she added gently, “Do you want to nurse for a bit?”   Jack didn’t hesitate. He gave a quiet, almost instinctive nod, settling closer.   Jill adjusted slightly, making sure he was comfortable, her movements slow and familiar. As he relaxed into the moment, the tension of waking faded, replaced by that steady, grounding comfort he’d come to rely on.   For Jill, there was something deeply calming about this too—the quiet closeness, the way he settled so completely. He trusts me, she thought again, not for the first time that day.   Jack’s eyes drifted half-closed as he relaxed, his body soft in her arms. The room was quiet except for the faint background noise of the TV and the gentle rhythm of their breathing.   Time seemed to slow.   At some point, Jack shifted slightly, a subtle change in his posture. Jill noticed it right away—she always did—but she didn’t interrupt the moment. Instead, she continued to hold him, gently rocking him as he finished.   When he finally pulled back, calm and settled, Jill smiled softly and adjusted him against her shoulder.   “Alright,” she said quietly. “Let’s get you cleaned up again.”   She carried him over to the changing pad she had set up on the living room floor. The routine was familiar now—unhurried, steady, and gentle. Jack lay there, looking up at her, a little more awake now, the earlier grogginess gone.   Jill worked with care, speaking softly to him as she went. “There we go… almost done.”   Jack watched her, his earlier embarrassment nowhere near as strong this time. The moment felt easier—quieter.   Once finished, Jill fastened everything into place and leaned down to press a soft kiss to his forehead.   “All set,” she said warmly.   She lifted him again, holding him close for a second before moving back toward the stroller. “We’ve got one more little adventure today.”   Jack looked at her, curious but calm.   Jill settled him into the stroller, adjusting the straps and making sure Flopsy was tucked in beside him once more.   “Ready?” she asked with a small smile.   Jack gave a soft sound in response, somewhere between a hum and a nod.   Jill grabbed the diaper bag, took one last glance around to make sure everything was in order, and then headed for the door.   The day wasn’t over yet.
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