Trading Post

I agree. ^^ Wetting/soaking/flooding feels amazing ☺️

As with a lot of things in life it is hardly ever a straight line from on point to another, at least that is how I experienced my DL life style. No diapers do not have a sexual appeal to me, then again, when I wend through puberty it was a different story. Nowadays I wear for comfort, relaxation, stress and anxiety relief. Diapers keep me together and in touch with myself.  

Yeah I agree, though for me I dislike four tape diapers because the bottom two tapes eventually tend to come off for me. That’s why I prefer two tapes…but it’s very hard to find those now a days.

Hi 👋 everyone. Happy to see many of you are reading and enjoying my story. Has anyone caught on that the names of the characters I took inspiration from an insanely popular Nickelodeon tv show? If you thought the names of the characters sounded familiar, yes, I got them from Paw Patrol. Without further ado, onto the next part of the story.    Chapter 4: The rest of the morning passed quickly.   Marshall sprawled across Ryder’s couch while Ryder cleaned up the remains of his cereal breakfast. Every few minutes the conversation drifted back to Avalon.   “What are you doing today?” Ryder asked.   Marshall shrugged.   “Probably hanging out with Chase.”   “Just you two?”   “Could be three.”   Ryder looked over.   Marshall grinned.   “Come with us.”   Ryder hesitated.   Truthfully, he hadn’t planned anything. The cruise occupied most of his thoughts, and spending another day alone in his apartment didn’t sound particularly appealing.   “Sure.”   “Perfect.”   Marshall stood up immediately.   “Let’s go.”   “Right now?”   “Obviously.”   Within minutes they were heading downstairs.   The apartment building looked every bit as tired on the outside as it did inside. Cracked pavement stretched across the parking lot. Rust stained portions of the stair railings. A flickering sign buzzed faintly above the entrance despite it being broad daylight.   Waiting near the curb was Chase.   He leaned casually against his car, scrolling through his phone.   Unlike Marshall, Chase was quiet most of the time. Taller than both of them and built like someone who spent far too much time in a gym, he often came across as intimidating until he started talking.   “About time,” Chase said.   Marshall pointed at Ryder.   “His fault.”   “What? How?”   “No idea. Just felt right.”   Chase nodded.   “Fair.”   Ryder rolled his eyes.   The three exchanged greetings before climbing into the car.   As usual, Ryder found himself opening the back door.   Again.   Always the back seat.   Never the front.   Not because anyone explicitly told him to.   It had simply become the accepted arrangement.   Marshall took shotgun.   Chase drove.   Ryder sat in the back.   Every.   Single.   Time.   As he buckled himself in, Ryder couldn’t help thinking about it.   I’m twenty-one years old.   Not twelve.   Not seven.   Twenty-one.   Yet somehow he always ended up in the back seat while Marshall and Chase occupied the front like parents taking their kid somewhere.   The thought annoyed him.   Still, he said nothing.   The car pulled away.   After about twenty minutes they arrived at a local steakhouse.   The smell of grilled meat hit Ryder almost immediately as they stepped inside.   His stomach growled.   He hadn’t realized how hungry he’d become.   Unfortunately, another need made itself known first.   “I’ll be right back,” Ryder said.   Marshall waved him off.   “Go ahead.”   Ryder hurried toward the restroom while the host seated Marshall and Chase.   By the time he returned several minutes later, drinks were already on the table.   “So,” Ryder said as he sat down. “Ready to order?”   Marshall and Chase exchanged a look.   Ryder immediately became suspicious.   “What?”   Marshall smiled.   “We already did.”   “You what?”   “You were gone.”   “For like three minutes.”   “Five.”   “That’s not the point.”   The waitress arrived carrying plates.   Ryder’s heart sank.   Chicken tenders.   French fries.   A small cup of barbecue sauce.   Meanwhile Chase received a large steak and baked potato.   Marshall received essentially the same thing.   Ryder stared at his plate.   Then at theirs.   Then back at his.   His stomach sank further.   I wanted steak.   The thought remained entirely inside his head.   The waitress set down the drinks next.   Marshall got a tall glass.   Chase got a tall glass.   Ryder received…   A colorful plastic cup with a lid.   And a straw.   His face immediately warmed.   He stared at it.   The cup looked like something given to an eight-year-old.   Neither Marshall nor Chase seemed bothered.   The waitress certainly wasn’t.   She simply smiled and walked away.   Ryder glanced around the restaurant.   Thankfully nobody appeared to be paying attention.   Still.   This was humiliating.   He poked one of the chicken tenders.   Marshall noticed.   “You okay?”   “I would’ve gotten steak.”   Marshall shrugged.   “You weren’t here.”   “I was in the bathroom.”   “Exactly.”   Ryder frowned.   Marshall continued eating.   “Next time hold it a little longer and order for yourself.”   Chase snorted into his drink.   Ryder did not find the comment nearly as amusing.   Still, making a scene would only draw attention.   So he remained quiet.   The chicken tenders were actually pretty good.   Which somehow made the situation more annoying.   Because now he couldn’t even complain about the food itself.   The meal continued with casual conversation about the upcoming cruise.   Avalon.   The ship.   The giant Amazons.   Eventually Ryder found himself laughing despite his earlier irritation.   For a while he almost forgot about it.   Almost.   When lunch finally ended, the three headed back outside.   The moment Ryder reached the car he watched Marshall climb into the passenger seat.   Again.   Leaving the back seat.   Again.   Ryder sighed and climbed in.   Again.   The familiar click of the seatbelt echoed through the car.   As Chase started the engine, Ryder finally spoke up.   “You know, that thing in there was kind of embarrassing.”   Marshall looked back.   “What thing?”   “The cup.”   “The cup?”   “Yes, the cup.”   Marshall looked confused.   “It was a drink.”   “You know what I mean.”   “Oh.”   Marshall grinned.   “That.”   Ryder folded his arms.   “You could’ve ordered something normal.”   “You like chicken tenders.”   “That’s not the point.”   “You do like chicken tenders.”   “That’s still not the point.”   Chase laughed from the driver’s seat.   The discussion continued until Marshall suddenly leaned over the center console and squinted toward the back seat.   “What?”   Marshall pointed.   “Hold still.”   “What?”   “You’ve got something.”   Before Ryder could react, Marshall reached back with a napkin.   A quick wipe.   “There.”   Ryder froze.   “Did you just—”   “Barbecue sauce.”   “I could’ve gotten it.”   “It was on your cheek.”   “I know where my cheek is.”   Marshall tossed the napkin aside.   Problem solved.   Ryder’s face burned.   The gesture wasn’t malicious.   That almost made it worse.   Marshall acted as if it were the most natural thing in the world.   Like Ryder genuinely needed help cleaning his face.   “I’m perfectly capable of doing that myself.”   “Okay.”   “I am.”   “Sure.”   “I mean it.”   “Uh huh.”   Ryder looked toward Chase for support.   Instead Chase simply focused on driving.   “So where are we going?” Chase asked.   Marshall immediately launched into possibilities.   Mini golf.   The mall.   An arcade.   A movie.   The conversation rolled onward.   Ryder tried to interject several times.   Nobody intentionally ignored him.   Yet somehow neither seemed to hear him.   Or perhaps they simply assumed his objections weren’t important.   Eventually Ryder slumped back into the seat.   The scenery passed outside the window.   Stores.   Traffic lights.   Parking lots.   The city rolling by.   Part of him was annoyed.   Part of him was embarrassed.   And part of him wondered if maybe Avalon would be different.   Maybe there, surrounded by giant Amazons, everyone would feel small.   Maybe for once he wouldn’t be the only person getting treated that way.   As the car continued down the road, Ryder stared out the window and wondered where exactly Marshall and Chase were taking him next.   Meanwhile, in the front seat, Marshall wore the faintest hint of a smile.   The mysterious plan he’d been quietly building for weeks was still moving forward perfectly.   And Ryder remained completely unaware.

Wow, that chapter pulled on my heart strings and put me right back to being a teenager. Great work, I'm not crying I'm just thinking about a night with my own special friend where we had a similar conversation but life as a couple of teens rushed life along and we never got to that place before they passes unexpectedly.  I love this story so far, please keep it up