Diaper References

Hey, I‘m Mike, 47, male, from germany.   l‘ve been a „passive reader“ in this forum for years and now decided to become a bit more active.    Since I can remember as a very young child, was interested in diapers and have lot of memories of situations starting at approx age of 3. As a teenager I started using diapers, but it was of course difficult to get some. Since my 20‘s I had lot of „on-off“ phases in my usage. But never more than a few month without diapers.    The last 1,5 years I try to become a bedwetter, wearing a diaper almost every night. But without any success yet. Still having issues to fully „let go“ while laying down. My goal is to improve here and there is is still a deep wish also to become incontinent. But I guess it will take some time to go „all-in“ here. Not ready yet.    I hope I can meet some nice people here and get some contact to share experiences!   Mike

Okay, I know that this has a Sunday schedule...but I'm posting this on Saturday because there's very real issues with the winter weather where I live (and because my football team is playing in the conference finals tomorrow, I'll be busy trying to set up a feed, if I even can). I'm not sure if the Internet is going to stay connected for a lot of stuff, and I don't want to forget to post, only for it to be delayed, and I did promise a chapter this week. So, anyway, here's the third chapter:   -   Chapter Three: The Italian Job (from Hell)   -   Blitz was desperate.   Yes, he had a beautiful brainchild in the Immediate Murder Professionals (I.M.P., a company of imps - and one hellhound - that wanted to be bigger than what their races were treated as), but given that there were no shortage of imp assassins in Hell, all of whom could be used for disposable labor, his company had started in the red. After all, weapons and ammunition weren’t cheap, and he had to pay all three of his employees as well.   He didn’t know the imps he had hired well, just that their names were Moxxie and Millie. M&M, he called them, even though they were annoyed at it (they weren’t married, but Blitz felt it wasn’t going to be long until they were. At least, it shouldn’t be…if Moxxie wasn’t such a pussy; it was obvious Millie was the top in their relationship.).   The lone eighteen-year-old hellhound that worked the phone (he would never allow her on the hits for her protection), though? He knew her well. Loona Griseo, the daughter of two hellhounds he knew from the circus, but fell out of contact with. Two hellhound friends from long ago who had died under suspicious circumstances (he knew it was foul play, but the fucking authorities said some bullshit like “murder-suicide pact” when he knew it was anything but. The fucking racism with imps and hellhounds was why he started the company in the first place: in their honor.) when Loona was an eight-year-old girl, sending her to an orphanage (more like a…pound. An absolutely horrific pound, even by Hell’s standards) that almost crushed her spirit.   He had tried to swoop in to adopt Loona the moment he realized they had a daughter and researched where she was. The fucking racism against imps and the fucking red tape had been a total bitch and a half, but he finally adopted her at fifteen, if only in name. She had kept her parents’ surname, and both of them knew she wasn’t his kid, but he had tried his absolute best to provide for her, and she appreciated it…or he hoped she did.   Right now, she was busy with a phone call in the ramshackle apartment that they shared, the sweater from the pound barely fitting her figure, and her jeans on her were small and torn to begin with.   “Blitz, some asshole wants to talk to you, says it’s important,” she called in annoyance. “He sounds like a real prick, using a fucking voice modifier.”   The imp quickly went over to the phone. “Hello, I.M.P., this is Blitz, the “o” is silent, who do you want me to slay?”   “No, no slaying necessary.” The voice was obviously using one of those fancy voice modifiers to hide their identity. “We just need you to steal something and get it to a drop within a certain timeline, before delivering it to a place for us at a later date.”   “Uh, we’re a company that murders for hire, and-”   “We’ll pay you 375,000 souls for the successful theft and 375,000 souls for the successful delivery to the specific location.”   Blitz’s eyes widened. That was…an insane amount of money. The first payment alone would be enough to pay for the lease (they were dangerously close to being kicked out and forced to live on the streets) for at least five years for their shitty apartment, maybe even move out to somewhere better. Enough to get Loona the wardrobe from Stylish Occult that she wanted, but always was too poor to afford. Enough to pay Moxxie and Millie (whom he knew shared an apartment out of convenience but - according to them - were close to getting kicked out and left on the streets themselves) a good amount to help them.   Still, if this was a scam…   “You’re not scamming me, are you?” he asked slowly.   “No, not at all. We need a…specific group of professionals to do this. We have the money to forward, and we’re people of our word; we wouldn’t pay 750,000 souls unless it was of the utmost importance.”   “You’ve got yourself a deal,” Blitz found himself saying. “Just give me the details.”   “For the theft, we need a specific, extremely rare herb to be stolen from Prince Stolas Goetia of the Ars Goetia. You’ll know it immediately: it’s pure white, looks like a crystallized gemstone, and glows like a star. Handle it very carefully; you will need gloves so that it doesn’t poison the handler.”   The imp became nervous. A Goetia could be a dangerous enemy to have, and he heard the worst things about Stolas. That he could turn a lesser being to stone with a single glare. That his magical abilities could stretch the space-time continuum. That he was exceptionally dangerous and that his wife, despite lacking his powers, was even worse.   Blitz’s mind was quickly coming up with a plan. It would involve a lot of pre-planning, maybe a lot of stuff he didn’t want to do, but it was his only option.   “Um…how into his wife is he?” he asked.   The voice chuckled in what the imp hoped was good humor. “A good thought, since he’s gay. He has a wife, but it was an arranged marriage, and from what we hear, they really hate each other.”   “Right. How heavily armed is the compound?”   “Figure it out. We trust you to do the heist and layout yourselves.”   “The drop?”   “Text us at this 067 number. We’ll be using a second burner phone with the same number. We’ll send you the location once the herb is successfully stolen.”   Blitz looked at the number and memorized it by writing it on a scrap of paper.   “Understood. How soon do you need this herb stolen?”   “We’re reasonable. Two weeks, likely less, if you can swing it.”   Blitz froze. That left them very little time to do the pre-planning, the casing, the infiltration, the actual heist, and - depending on where it was - the drop.   The caller seemed to feel that fear, that slight hesitation. “We can find someone else if-”   “No, we can do it.” Blitz focused on the money, helping themselves out of poverty.   “Good. We’ll be in touch.”   The call ended, and Blitz handed the phone to Loona.   “Loona, call M&M, tell them to get here immediately. We have a life-changing job.”   “What’s going on, Blitz?” she asked.   “Loona, you’re coming with us on this. All hands on deck.”   Loona’s eyes widened, her tail wagging with excitement. “I get to come with you on a hit?” she asked eagerly.   “It’s not a hit. It’s a theft. 375,000 souls for the success. We have two weeks to pre-plan, case, infiltrate a household, steal a rare herb from a rich Goetia prick, and drop it off.”   “A Goetia?” Loona sounded concerned. “You don’t want to make those rich fuckers your enemy. They may be spoiled brats, but they can and will fuck us up.”   “That’s why we’re doing this right,” Blitz answered. “Now call M&M so we can plan.”   Loona sighed and dialed the number of the imps’ house, waiting for the answer. “Hey, Moxxie, Millie, we have a job. A really big, high payment job that has to be done in two weeks. Blitz says he needs you at his house now.” She hung up; Blitz knew she didn’t want to deal with or talk to her co-workers for too long.   “Thank you, Loony. We’re going to celebrate. Want a double bacon vanilla shake after the theft? A pecan pie with pepperoni? A cookie cake? I know you’re allergic to chocolate-”   “I literally ate a blended phone for you once; I’m not allergic to choco-”   “-so I’ll make sure that it’s got marshmallows instead of chocolate chips. Anything for you.”   “Blitz, we don’t even know why these guys want that herb,” Loona said, her voice filled with trepidation. “We’re stealing from powerful demons that can kill us without blinking to get it. Whatever we come up with, it had better be good, or we’re screwed. Completely and utterly screwed.”   And secretly, behind his confident facade, the imp knew that the hellhound was absolutely spot on.   -   Moxxie was letting Millie drive to the location, and while it was an insane drive with at least several horn honkings and Millie running some poor guy off the road, it least it wasn’t as insane of a drive as his boss, Blitzo, who was probably the craziest driver in all of Hell.   And then they had to deal with his daughter - no matter how much she insisted that she didn’t see Blitz as a true family member, Moxxie couldn’t see her as anything else, who was a bratty teen at her best and a total bitch at her worst. It would almost be so much easier if she got Hellbies and had to be put down. Almost.   Millie finally parked at the ramshackle apartment that Blitzo and Loona stayed at, knocking over a “No Parking Under ANY Circumstances” sign in the process, and exiting the van with a frown.   “Come on, Moxxie, let’s see what our boss wants,” she said in a soft chirp that made Moxxie’s heart flutter before he shook the thoughts out of his mind; she’d never go for him, they were just living together because there was nothing else, there were better imps for her than him.   “I just hope I don’t have to deal with that bratty bitch too much,” Moxxie muttered.   “The hellhound can be a brat, but we’ll handle it,” Millie said with a nod, as they opened the door at the same time, expecting the other to go in ahead of them.   “Um…are you-” they said simultaneously, their red faces flushing further, before the female imp, shaking her head - whether it was at herself or her roommate - walked in, Moxxie quickly following.   It was a really shitty apartment and had a very good case for being the worst in Hell: there was black mold everywhere, blood spatters on the walls, and the smell of something dead and rotting was overwhelming.   This is all he can afford? Our apartment’s better than this…   They walked up the stairs - some of which were worn out or had holes in them - until they saw the door, opening it into their boss’s apartment. It was ramshackle, only having a torn-up couch, a tiny bathroom, and one single bedroom (and Moxxie hoped that his boss and that bitch of a hellhound didn’t share the bedroom; as much as he hated Loona, there wasn’t any way that he wanted her to be forced into the same bedroom as his boss). Pictures lined the wall, almost all of them having Blitz’s face crossed out with the exception of one: an adoption certificate with Blitz’s joyful face and Loona’s teenaged face looking utterly scared and traumatized, and he wondered…   “M&M, over here, we have a good job that needs to be done soon, so we’ll need all hands,” Blitz crowed from the makeshift workspace by the couch, Loona not far from it and looking bored while holding the phone.   “We’re not ‘M&M’, Sir,” Moxxie said in annoyance. “Just use our actual names: Moxxie and Millie. It’s not hard.”   “What? You call me ‘Blitz’, or at least, your top does.”   “Blitz, please,” Millie said with a sigh, looking at Moxxie with an emotion he didn’t know. What he did know was that he was seriously annoyed at the teenaged brat’s snickering. “What’s the job? Who are we killing?”   “Not a hit,” Blitz answered. “We’re stealing from a Goetia. It’s some kind of rare herb, which has to be stolen and put at a drop in two weeks with a future delivery to a place at an unspecified time.”   Moxxie’s expression went blank with fury. This was too much. He was not going to risk his life for something this stupid, something that was almost certainly going to fail. Fuck that. Plenty of other imps worked in assassination, even if they barely made anything, but at least assassination was easy for him.   “Sir, I’m not going to get killed for this,” Moxxie said with a note of finality. “I’ve done a lot of crazy shit for you, but this is too much, and-”   “It’s 375,000 souls for the drop and 375,000 for the delivery,” Loona quickly added.   “Who has that kind of money?” Moxxie asked her, his tone contemptuous. “It’s a scam, and you were suckered into it. Then again, I’m sure you didn’t know; teens don’t tend to know much.”   “Oh, sit on a dick, fatass,” the hellhound said, rolling her eyes.   “He’s not fat, hound!” Millie snapped before Moxxie could even defend himself.   “Then he’s an ass.”   “His ass is perfectly fine, bitch!”   “Listen, guys, we have an opportunity!” Blitz said, quickly trying to defuse the argument immediately brewing between the snarling Loona and Millie who was giving the hellhound two middle fingers. “The person who called was using a voice modifier to call this in.”   Moxxie and Millie looked at each other, Millie immediately dropping the middle fingers. They had different expressions; Moxxie’s was still completely skeptical, but it looked like Millie was sold on doing the job.   “Millie, why-”   “Moxxie, not a lot of people in Hell even have voice modifiers,” the lone female imp said calmly. “They’re rare, illegal, and pricey; that lines up with the souls offer. Whoever wanted I.M.P. to do this obviously has a grudge against the Goetia or someone connected to them.”   “Then we’re being used as fodder on something too suicidal for them to do!” Moxxie snapped, immediately regretting his words when he saw the hurt look on his roommate’s face.   “Or they believe in us to do the job,” she said, gently touching his face.   He bit his lip. It did feel good to be believed in. His father certainly never believed in him. The Mafia he grew up in never believed that he was anything other than a gay man (saying it much less kindly than he did - and besides, he was bisexual) who wasn’t worth his father’s sperm. The only person who really believed in him was his mom…and she had died a long time ago.   No, that wasn’t true. Blitz, despite pushing him towards marrying Millie (who probably wasn’t interested in him and deserved far better than him) and oftentimes joked with insults and was obviously only interested in being a potential third wheel in some poly relationship, clearly believed in him, said that he was the best shot he had ever seen on many of the assassinations they had to do, that he was a hell of an employee. Millie said that he was smart, kind, and funny, even though only Lucifer and Satan knew why she thought he had any of those qualities.   And all three of them, even Loona, of all the people in Hell, were looking at him with genuine hope and worry, like they needed someone like him and were scared they wouldn’t be able to do this without him. And if the money was real, then they could afford rent and utilities. Maybe the company could actually succeed, maybe even grow their brand.   All of it persuaded him.   “Fine…” he muttered, putting his palm to his face before drawing it away. “I don’t know why I’m saying this or why I’m even considering this, but fine. I’m in - but on one condition: it has to have a foolproof plan. Nothing half-assed: either we do it flawlessly without the Goetias knowing it was us, or we don’t do it at all. That’s my only condition.”   “Done,” Blitz said with a devilish grin that made Moxxie realize that, yes, Blitz definitely had a plan.   He would not know if it was a good or bad plan…yet.   -   Hope you enjoyed~

Crazy couple of last chapters. Those were some harsh raw words said by both. I’m glad Martina is the adult in the room. I dunno how Paul and Amber come back from this. I remember calling one of my female friends the B word when we were like 15. And she didn’t speak to me all summer long. Dunno how they will mend their friendship in like less the a few weeks for the play. Great stuff as always my dude. Paul needs mommy Lilly to come rescue him from mean girl Amber 

Damn this is good... It's been a long time since a story anywhere left me this speechless. So I'll just leave it at that. No words, no words at all... My utmost gratitude for writing and sharing a work that made me feel this way again.

Wife  clogged the toilet sometime after I went to sleep.  Second time over last month. This is one of those wide open ones that is tough to get a good seal with the plunger.  It's a beehive style plunger, but still just doesn't get  a good seal so air come out.  I may have to call plumber on this one.  The  toilet cost $1600 and wasn't supposed to clog.  Maybe it's clogging further down...  At least we have a toilet in the basement, but it's 57 F down there.   UGH!!!