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Story and Art Forum
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Baby Suzy the Super Soaker Now At 35/36/37/38 - Big Kids Having Kids, or Is It The Littlest Little In The World? Congratulations… its both! (or from Teen Baby to Adult Baby to Mother of a Baby) 1 2 3 4 5
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By Gerberbaby2200 · Posted
You are not Expense of other it you nobody else . if you take it wrong you are judging that person . Has nothing do ABDL LIFESTSYLE . I see people in UK POST pitchers them walking in public with diaper showing . I Been AB for a LOT Longer then you . There people i seen walk on Beach with there diaper showing and that it . I know people gone out public to Party and people walking on streets like what i just said . ABDL NOT JUST FOR SEX . -
That would be awesome -
By Goodnitesboi · Posted
Cool! I really want to try the Pack Pals. It's amazing Northshore is starting to make printed diapers. -
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Friday, October 21st 23.) Friday came just on time. My fight with Blossom had given me some ideas for Academy Works; I wanted to take it in a new direction. But just as I was pouring myself a bowl of cereal, my mom's car pulled up in the driveway. Oh no... "You're home early?" I asked, a little sullen. Maybe she forgot something? "Interesting tidbit," Mom said, putting her keys on the hook by the door. "Mr. Whitlock's 'work retreats'" - she put those two words in air quotes - "turned out to be a little more play than work. He didn't show up to the office today, so the district manager told us to go home." "That's..." I paused to take a bite of my Fruit Loops, "actually not surprising at all." "Anyway," she shrugged, "no work until Monday. Got plans?" Not anymore, I thought. "Homework probably." "What about that girl?" my mom asked, taking a can of Diet Coke out of the fridge. They were her vice since she quit smoking; that was nine years ago. "Blossom? She's at school until six." "Are you going back up to her cabin this weekend?" Beach house, but no. "We didn't make plans." "Don't hang around here on my account," my mom warned me. "I've got a book I need to finish for Book Club, and Janice wants to go to the spa." Spa trips were a luxury item for my mom, usually once every few months. I used to go with her when I was younger, but I really didn't find pretty nails or body rubs from strangers to be very rewarding. Maybe I'd go anyway. After finishing breakfast, I went back upstairs to start my homework. I checked my phone first: a text from Blossom. >>SooOoOooOo... how is writing? I typed back: >>Mom came home early. No alone time. No writing. -__- >>Oh no! Is your Mom okay? Is it an emergency that she came home for, or is it just casual? >>Do you want to go to the beach this weekend? 💗 You could get some writing done! I really appreciated Blossom's invitation - just as I did the weekend before - but the fundamental problem seemed to persist: I needed some privacy to write Academy Works. It always came more naturally to me when I was all dressed up. I couldn't do that with my mom in the house, and I couldn't do it with Blossom either. >>Thanks but it won't help. I need it to be just me. >>You can go up there early if you want. I am in class until six. >>You're also my ride. I couldn't bike that far. Then again, my mom always drove with Janice to the spa... hm... >>Well if you can get a ride you can go up there ahead of me, I would love to be able to give you the chance to write 💚 There were a lot of people who were the unconditional fixer types, the sort that would have said oh just take my car or something equally problem-solving. Blossom wasn't that kind of girl, but to her credit she'd pushed herself past her comfort zone a lot for Amanda. I should have just turned her down, but I had a really interesting idea for Chapter Seven of Academy A. I didn't want to wait another week to give it a shot, and I needed to get out of this writing rut. With reluctance, I typed back: >>Gimme a sec. I asked my mom if I could use the car. She didn't care, as long as I was home by Sunday evening. She even said something about it being "safer if I have my own vehicle", since I was going so far away. I admit, relying on Blossom to bring me home last Sunday was really awkward. I sent another text to Blossom: >>Okay so I sourced a car... how do I get in?? >>The code is 8081, just make sure that if you leave to go anywhere that you lock it back up! I accidentally left the water and stuff on so that is all fine. You should bring some things too just in case we want to role play again 😉 😘 The roleplay wasn't something we talked about since that night. My cheeks were a little warm at the thought, but I elected not to reply to the message. I had to bring some baby stuff, but it had nothing to do with Blossom or the roleplay thing. If I wanted to write, I needed some supplies. Within the hour, I had my stuff packed into my mom's sedan. I had to stop at a CVS to grab some baby powder and wipes. Then I started the long drive up to Blossom's beach house. It was cold, especially so for the middle of October. The beach was completely empty, and the sky was covered with clouds. I wondered if it would rain; it would add a nice ambiance. I punched in the door code and let myself into the house. It was only two in the afternoon; tons of time to write before Blossom got out of class and made it up here. I pulled out my phone to text her all the same. >>Here, safe and sound. Gonna write. >>I am glad you found your way there! I finish at six and I will get some dinner on the way up. Are there any foods you do not like? ❤️ ❤️ ❤️ >>No fish?? I could stomach most things, even the things I didn't like, but fish always made me gag. I slid my phone into my jeans pocket and took my bag up to the spare bedroom. It was weird being in someone else's house. If it wasn't for the big wave on the far wall, I would have thought I walked into the wrong place. Some stern businessman would walk down the stairs, speaking in that voice that oozed power and control. "What are you doing in my home?" "I... I'm sorry, I must have walked in–" "What do you have there? That bag. Hand it over." I would do so without thinking. He would unzip it just as I remembered the kinds of things I brought with me. Diapers. A shirt with puffy sleeves. Children's pajamas. My cheeks would burn red. I couldn't come up with the next part of my fantasy - probably something about breaking and entering and not calling the police, or all the power he had in the city or something - because I had reached the spare room and I didn't have a lot of time to waste. I unzipped the bag and pulled out a store-brand adult diaper, a puffy-sleeved shirt with a kitten on the front that I found at Hot Topic, and the container of baby powder. I remembered the first scene I wrote where someone diapered themselves; I was fourteen years old and writing Doctor Who fanfic. It seemed easy enough: unfold the thing, pull it between your legs, and tape it on. When I got my first diaper a few years later, I realized how wrong I was. Luckily, practice makes perfect. For me, I had the opportunity to practice maybe once a week for the past four years of my life. That's what, 200 diapers? I couldn't think about that right now... all the money I'd spent. A pang of guilt reverberated through my stomach. I picked up the thin plastic rectangle and crinkled it for comfort. Diapers... how did I get myself into this weird fucking fetish? I stripped off my jeans and panties and unfolded the diaper, flattening it out on the bed. Lay down. A bit too much powder, just for fun. Pull up between my legs, and... Nope, too high. I lifted my butt and moved the back waistband up a little. I sat back down and pulled the diaper between my legs again. Better. Everyone online says to do the bottom tapes first, but I could never figure out why. Maybe it was my fat thighs or something; it made the whole thing feel tight and off-balance. So I taped the top one on the right, then the top on the left. The bottom ones barely made it to the landing zone. I had to redo one of the top ones, but the tapes had some stickiness to them and it wasn't really a problem. Before sitting up, I squeezed my knees together. The thickness pushed my thighs apart, ever so slightly, and I felt a wave of happiness and comfort and embarrassment warm my chest. It had been a while. I got up on my feet and took off my top. The floofy-sleeved shirt came down just past the waistband of my diaper, loose-fitting over my stomach. I knew I had to get writing, but I took a moment to glimpse myself in the full-body mirror by the closet. I could have used some makeup. Blush or something. Hair ties! I always forgot hair ties. But the girl in the mirror... me... I was so cute. I hadn't felt that cute since... well, since the last time I was wearing that same outfit. I drifted happily back to the bed and fished out my laptop. I plugged the charger into the wall and crawled under the covers. As a final thought, before I settled in, I reached down and grabbed a pacifier from my bag. I plopped it between my lips and sunk happily into the bed. I opened Academy A. Chapter Seven Earlier That Day
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