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The lack of commercial variety in the US really bothers me. Each company only makes one commercial per product anymore, and they show it over and over again. Commercials for prescription medicine should be banned, if you needed that particular drug your doctor would have you on it. Also, commercials for "ED" drugs should not be shown before 11:00PM. Do you want to explain to a 5 year old what an erection is? I know I don't and frankly I'm surprised that parents have allowed it to go on for this long. Commercials for "check your credit score" are a complete scam. By law each US citizen is entitled to one free report per year from each of the 3 major credit bureaus, so run one every 4 months. You don't need to check your score more often than that. Commercials for online universities are also crap. A huge percentage of these for-profit colleges aren't even accredited, so any degree you get from them won't do you a bit of good. The people really need to push congress for a "Standards in Advertising" act to get this garbage off of TV.

I would think it might possibly have to do with an idea by whomever that you might be thinking of them as becoming caregiver versus a boyfriend. girlfriend or lover. Going into a relationship with the feeling that you will constantly changing some one's diaper could be a reason for that person not wanting a relationship with you. And of course the odd chance that you two might be in public when that incident of incontinence occurs and results in an embarrassing moment. I know when my brother takes me shopping with him to get me out of the house it can be embarrassing when my urinary & fecal incontinence kick in and your standing at the cash register with folks looking around for where the smell is coming from. In those situations we always pick a line that has a baby in a shopping cart so everyone in the line will think the Lil stinker in the cart did it.

I would recommend "you do the honors" and use lots of oil or lotion on his boy parts, he will like that part for sure. Not used to it he will feel like he is wearing a garbage bag, or a ski jacket, not just underwear. The more you show how much you adore him that way and how sexy you think he looks, will be the best way for it to continue.

Chapter 5: The Ghost at Stephie's House Stephie blew on her nails, frowning as she stared down at them. "I'm sure you can do better than this," she shook her head. "This is boring," Jeffrey whined. "It's just like coloring," Stephie told him, sipping from her glass of Coke. "I'm sure you can stay in the lines when you color, can't you?" Jeffrey nodded, but it seemed less confident than it had when she'd asked him a few minutes before. She sighed, getting some nail polish remover out of her purse. "It's a lot harder than coloring," he defended himself. "Please, Jeff," she rolled her eyes. "I've been doing both for longer than you've been alive, and they're both a piece of cake." The little boy pouted - she knew it was because she'd used his nickname, which he'd decided recently he didn't like anymore, but that was, of course, why she'd done it. "Now, are you going to prove to me you can do it, or are you going to go to bed?" "I'll go to bed," he said, taking only a second or two to deliberate. "All right, well, night-night then," Stephie replied, only half lifting her eyes from removing his shoddy paint job to watch him scurry away. She wouldn't have minded if he'd turned out to be a prodigy at this, but it didn't bother her to be rid of him for the rest of the night, either. For a moment, she thought she saw something moving outside, yet, when she turned to glance out the window, nothing was there. As soon as she had her nails ready, she got up to go close the curtain, only to be stopped halfway there by the chirp of her cell phone. She turned back around to get it from her purse, letting out a brief sigh as she saw the caller ID. "I told you, Annie, I'm not taking any more jobs this week. I don't care how urgent they are!" "I... umm... Hello?" Anne Marie sounded flustered, obviously having not expected that response. It still surprised Stephie just how simple the people from this little town were, yet how complex they thought they were. Did Anne Marie really think it was so difficult for someone to predict why she was calling, when that was all she ever had to say? Even at meetings, she barely ever said anything else. Stephie sighed again, this one louder. "What is it, Anne?" she asked, annoyed. "Come on, spit it out!" "I-I just thought I'd call and see how things were going," Anne Marie stammered. "If I'm interrupting, I can call back, or..." Stephie rolled her eyes, but said, "No, it's fine. The kid just went to bed." She had to admit, she was intrigued by the call now, seeing as it apparently wasn't official business. Was Anne Marie finally coming to her for tips on how to dress her age? Her style hadn't changed since they'd met, seven years ago, and even then Stephie had been shocked to discover her mother didn't pick her outfits out every day. It was just too bad she'd waited until high school was nearly over. "I really wish you people would get a decent nail salon in this town," she lamented as she waited for Anne Marie to continue. "Umm... Yeah, that'd be great," Anne Marie agreed, obviously having no idea what she was talking about. "Listen, I need you to do me a big favor." Stephie smiled, always happy to be proven right, and curious to hear just how Anne Marie was going to phrase it. "I'm listening." "Well, it's just... The thing is..." "Just ask, Annie. I'm sure it's not that big of a deal." Perhaps it was a bit arrogant of her, but she loved it when people came to her for help. At last, Anne Marie blurted out, "Ten Little Indians." Stephie was, of course, rather confused. "I'm sorry, what?" Was this some weird kind of code? "Ten Little Indians," she repeated, as if that would clarify things. When she was met with silence, she finally started to explain. "The book. By Agatha Christie?" "Oookay," Stephie nodded, still not understanding what was going on. "It's a book..." "Yes," Anne Marie agreed. "It's on the extra-credit reading list, and when I was sitting over there last week, I saw that they had it, and I asked them if I could borrow it, and they said yes, but then I forgot it, and since you're there I was wondering if maybe you could bring it to me at school tomorrow?" It was, by far, the most words Stephie had ever heard her speak at once, and it took her by surprise, so that she started to lose focus by the end. "You want me to get you a book?" "Please. It's in their library, at the end of the hall to the..." "I know where the library is," Stephie cut her off. "I am the one babysitting here. What, do you think because I'm not a bookworm, I don't know what a room full of books is called?" "I'm sorry," Anne Marie squeaked. "I didn't mean anything, I just didn't..." "Yeah, whatever. It's good for extra credit?" "Uh-huh." "Well, I'll get it for you, then... But I want you to write an extra essay on it when you're done." Anne Marie paused, but of course, in the end, she agreed. "Just bring it to lunch with you tomorrow," she said. "And... umm... Are you in the library?" Stephie rolled her eyes. "No, I'm not. I'm not your servant, Annie." "I know that," Anne Marie apologized quickly. "But like I said, I was supposed to take it last week, and I forgot, and I wouldn't want the same thing to happen to you, so could you maybe just go get it now? It was on the far wall, on the bottom shelf, I think." "Well, I'm not you, so I think I'll remember." Stephie flipped her phone closed, a little annoyed, but after taking another sip of her cola, she got up and went down the hall, tapping on Jeff's bedroom door and calling, "Lights off!" "I'm just getting into my pajamas!" he protested from within. Stephie kept on going, moving all the way to the end of the hall. Back when she'd babysat here for the first time, she'd been given a tour, and that was the first, and last, time she'd given the library a second look. She'd always thought it was an odd way to use that extra room - why not use it as a guest room? But as she went inside and flipped the light switch, she realized that it made more sense than she'd given it credit for. Clearly, these people needed the space for all their books. There were shelves around all four walls overflowing with them, but even that wasn't enough space, and there were stacks on top of the shelves, beside the overstuffed chair, sitting on the windowsill. "This is ridiculous," she muttered to herself under her breath. Which "far wall" was Anne Marie talking about? She tried to call her back up, but she wouldn't answer - who did she think she was fooling? It wasn't like she had anything better to do. Stephie thought about not even bothering, but she really could use the extra credit. So she picked a wall and crouched down, scanning the titles as quickly as she could. Partway through the survey, she heard footsteps, and a door close, but after a, "You'd better be getting your butt in bed!", there was silence again. At least until she heard the muffled sound of a conversation taking place, followed by what could only be an explosion. Angrily, she got up and marched down the hallway, slowing slightly as she saw Jeff's door still closed, no light coming from under it now. She half noticed that the bathroom door was closed now, barely registered a piece of paper taped to it, more annoyed that Jeff seemed to think just closing his door would keep her from finding out he'd snuck back out to the living room to watch TV. But when she got back to the living room, there was nobody there. She grabbed the remote from beside her cup and turned the volume down before searching behind every piece of furniture, even peeking her head into the kitchen, only to find that, apparently, she was alone. Despite herself, she felt a shiver run up her spine, which only made her roll her eyes. She remembered making fun of Anne Marie at sleepovers for getting genuinely freaked out over ghost stories... She wasn't about to spook herself because of one strange thing. She sat down on the sofa and flipped through the channels, deciding finally on the Food Network, settling in, lifting her soda to her lips for another drink. She wrinkled her nose as she tasted it - there was something odd about it, somehow. She sipped it again, trying to make sure, but it didn't seem as pronounced that time. Was she just imagining things? Or maybe it was just from the ice melting while she'd been looking through the books. Stephie sighed, that thought reminding her she still hadn't found Ten Little Indians. Not wanting her drink to get even worse, she waited until she'd finished it off before turning off the TV and going back to the library. She tried calling Anne Marie again, and, again, got her voice mail. "If you want this stupid book, you'd better call me!" she growled into the phone. "I can't find the damn thing, and I'm not going to spend all night looking!" It wasn't long before she began to feel even more impatient with all of this searching, squirming as she squatted down, slowly making her way around the room. She had to use the bathroom, but she really didn't want to have to go back to the library afterwards, so she was determined to get the book first. As she continued looking, movements growing more frenzied with every passing moment, she began to think of what else she was going to make Anne Marie do to pay her back for this. It would be nice not to have to worry about homework for the rest of her high school career, and, the longer this took, the more reasonable the demand sounded in her mind. She didn't realize how bad it had gotten until the first drops of pee soaked into her underwear, the wetness coming as a shock, making her leap to her feet, clutching her hands in between her legs. "Shit," she breathed, forcing her muscles back under her control. The urge was getting stronger still, as she stood there, so much so that she was afraid to move her hands as she shuffled back down the hallway towards the bathroom. There was a nervous moment there as she shifted her hands, pressing one even tighter against herself while she extracted the other and reached up for the doorknob. It was locked. She jiggled it once more before noticing the note taped there, typewritten, informing her that, "All you have to do is ask." Her teeth clenched together as she saw it, and she ripped it down, stuffing it into the pocket of her jeans, at least as well as she could manage - the pants were skin tight, not leaving much room for anything in the pockets, even her hands. She turned around and stormed towards Jeff's door, starting to barge in, until she reminded herself how she looked, hand practically pasted to her crotch, half doubled over, and clearly trying not to pee her pants. But he had to have done it. And if he had, then he had the key, and she was going to get it from him, and then she'd find a way to make him sorry. She wasn't sure how to do it without getting in trouble with his parents, but she would find a way. This was definitely not funny. Forcing herself to stand as straight as possible, she threw open the door. Jeff didn't leap out of bed apologetically, or quickly shut his eyes, or roll over, or anything - he just kept lying still. She approached him cautiously, poking at him, but even that only made him squirm into a slightly different position. He was definitely asleep, all right, not faking it. She walked to his desk, looking at its contents in the faint illumination of his night light, looking for the key. When she didn't find it there, she started throwing open drawers, rustling through their contents, only to grow more and more frustrated - and more and more desperate. She was practically dancing in place as she looked. All of the sudden, she let out a loud gasp as she felt her hand growing wet. Clenching all of her muscles, she rushed out, not noting the small form on the bed groggily stretching. Feeling rather silly, she stopped at the bathroom door, and said, "Please let me in?", but, of course, that did nothing. The door was locked just as tight as it had been before. There was really only one thing she could do, she knew. She hurried her way to the front door, knowing that her sophisticated image was hardly going to be helped by the sight of her running down the sidewalk to the neighbor's house like a toddler doing the pee-pee dance, but she had no choice. As it turned out, she had even less choice than she thought. As she made her way through the house, heart pounding, she could feel her control slipping, her hand growing more and more wet, the wetness spreading all around as it soaked into the crotch of her jeans, making its way easily past her every attempt to stem the flow. She couldn't help but wonder if, by the time she got to somebody else's bathroom, there would be anything left for their toilet. The answer to that came as she crossed the living room, and the slow dripping turned into a more steady flow. Frantically, she broke into a run, but all that accomplished was getting her to the entryway before it was too late, before all she could do was stand there, staring down in awe and horror as the insides of her jeans grew dark, as a puddle formed beneath her, realization slowly dawning on her that she'd just pissed her pants. Her eyes began to mist up as she stood there, too stunned to even think about what she should do, at least until she saw the flash. She whipped around quickly, though not fast enough to see where it had come from. She stomped over to the window, knowing it had to have been outside there, staring off in the distance for somebody running off. Instead, there was another flash from beneath her. She looked down, but only managed to see a dark form slipping around the corner of the house. Her heart felt like it was about to explode, it was beating so hard. Not only had she wet herself, there was proof of it out there, somewhere, and she didn't even know who had it. And then, to make things even worse, as if that was possible, she heard footsteps coming from inside the house, accompanied by a small voice calling, "Miss Stephie? Did you make that noise?" Her eyes darted around the room, searching for something to cover herself with, to hide her shame. "Go back to bed, Jeff!" she yelled, hurrying away, through the kitchen and to the laundry room beyond that, slamming the door shut behind her, hands shaking as she locked it. She nearly screamed when she heard a knock on it. "Are you in there?" Jeffrey asked. She squeezed her eyes closed, wanting to just say no, but finally thinking better of it, not wanting him to go looking for her and find the puddle. "Yes," she said finally. "Your parents wanted me to do a little laundry. Just go back to bed." "I heard something outside my window. And something opened all the drawers in my desk," he complained. "I don't wanna go back in there..." "There's nothing in your room," she told him. "Yes, there is," he sniffled. "Just go back in there!" she yelled, annoyed, wanting to be alone. Her blood froze as he replied, coming up with the worst answer she could imagine. "Make me." There was, of course, no way she was going to do that, so she went silent, not sure how to answer. Instead, she decided to work on her other problem. She wriggled her way out of her jeans and panties, starting up the washing machine, but after tossing them in, she noticed the clock on the wall behind the machines, the one telling her that Jeffrey's parents were going to be home in fifteen minutes. "Shit, shit, shit," she cursed under her breath, fishing her clothes back out of the still rising water and throwing them into the dryer instead. "What are you saying?" Jeffrey asked. "Go to bed," she ordered, but there was no authority left in her voice. As she waited, anxiously watching the clock's hands move, she found a towel in the hamper beside the washing machine and dried herself off as well as she could. But, unfortunately, there was nothing she could do to make her pants dry more quickly. All too soon, she heard a car in the driveway, Jeffrey yelling, "Mommy and daddy are home!", and she knew it was the moment of truth. Nervously, she stopped the dryer, pulled open the door. She knew instantly that she was in trouble, as the smell of warm urine hit her nostrils. Her panties were mostly dry, but still stank; her jeans were damp and uncomfortable as she pulled them up, the smell of her accident still clinging to them. But what could she do? She couldn't hide in the laundry room all night. Heart still pounding, she worked up her resolve and burst out, hurrying towards the living room to gather up her stuff, hoping to get to the front door before her clients, to meet them outside and just keep moving until she got to her car. Instead, she met them just as they stepped inside, looking perplexed at their son still being up, but more-so at the puddle in front of them. "What, uh... What happened here?" the mother asked the stunned Stephie, who was clutching her purse to her chest and wishing her heart would just give out from the strain and explode. "Well, umm... Jeff here had a bit of an accident," she lied uncertainly. Immediately, she was undercut by a, "Did not!" "Don't, umm... Don't lie to your parents," she told him, trying to make it sound like an order, but all of her confidence was shattered. "I didn't!" he insisted, and she couldn't deny that he sounded much more sincere than she did. "Well then, I, uh, I don't know," she said, trying to push past them. "I really need to get going." She pushed past them, trying to move away from them, but she was stopped by the father asking, "Don't you want your money?" Bashfully, she turned around, holding out her hand. She tried to stare down at the floor, but that just showed her the puddle, making her feel worse. Yet when she looked up, she could see Jeffrey's mother, nose wrinkled as she stared at her. Stephie stuffed the money into her purse and hurried away, not noticing the wet spot on her jeans until she'd sat down in her car, only moments before it exploded into another full-blown accident. It was much smaller than the first, but more than enough to soak through her already damp pants and into the seat of her car.

Part Ten John's Mind was racing as he debated with himself whether or not to leave his diaper on as Kate had invited. I mean, she did say "feel free to keep your diaper on", obviously she's okay with it. She also said she's curious. Does she know there's more to it than that I just merely like to wear diapers to comfort myself? We didn't really talk about it much after I told her last night. All these thoughts were flying around his head as he went into the bathroom and brushed his teeth, still wearing his diaper, which he now realized was wet. Oh, you've got to be kidding me, John now began thinking that maybe he should change his diaper so that Kate wouldn't know he was wet. Hold on, I'm not going down there in JUST a diaper, anyway. Besides, if I change and she asks me to see what it looks like, she'll be able to tell it's not the same diaper I wore last night and I don't really want to explain why I changed. John finally settled on not changing his diaper, which wasn't all that wet, anyway, but the wetness indicator had faded slightly. After only a few minutes of sending his response to Kate and having the most serious argument with himself, he heard knocking on the front door. Quickly John put on a pair of baggy sweat pants over his diaper, grabbed a t-shirt that he began to put on as he headed down the stairs and made his way to the front door with a massive knot in his stomach. "Good morning, Doctor", John said trying to mask his nerves. "Good morning 'Dear Emo Hipster'," Kate winked at John as he opened the door all the way and reached for the bag of what he presumed to be the food Kate had brought to prepare for breakfast, "Ah ah ah, that's no way to greet a good friend first thing in the morning." With that Kate maneuvered herself to be in the perfect hugging position and she leaned forward on her toes and kissed John on the cheek. "Now, you can help me carry the breakfast ingredients", she smiled as she handed a grocery bag with eggs, butter and cinnamon in it, but she held onto a rather large bowl in her other hand. "So what's on the menu this morning?" John asked as he began to remove the items from the bag and place them on the counter. "Oh, just my world-famous French toast", Kate answered as she set the bowl on the counter and began looking in the cupboards for a frying pan and upon finding one she deemed the right size, she continued, "Why don't you go ahead and start crackin some eggs and mixing them in that bowl?" "Sure, should I get some coffee brewing?" John asked upon mixing enough eggs. "Oooooh, yes, coffee would be great", Kate answered and as things had begun to quiet down, with all the plastic bags being put away, John immediately became aware of how loud his diaper was when he moved, though he wasn't sure if it was as loud as he thought. Sensing that something was up with John, Kate began talking, "So, I'm guessing by the way you're acting that you decided to keep your diaper on?" John nodded and Kate kept going, "Good. You're probably wondering why I wanted you to do that, and I want to let you know right now that it's for no other reason than that I want you to be comfortable around me, no matter what, okay? So, just relax, act normal and we'll be fine." "Yeah, I'll be honest, I kind of freaked out when I saw your second text this morning saying that I could leave my di-diaper on, but, what is it that you're curious about?" John asked her, still wondering if there was more to it than that Kate merely wanted him to feel comfortable around her, even in a diaper. "Well, okay, truthfully, I did mean what I said, but I have some questions and I thought it might be easier for you to answer if you were wearing a diaper", Kate confessed. "Questions? Did I not satisfy your curiousity last night?" John asked jokingly. "Well, I mean, what is it about wearing a diaper that comforts you? When do you wear them? How often do you wear them? And......do you......do you ever use them?" Kate asked each of these questions with a slight pause in between each and John could tell she felt especially awkward when she asked the last question. "Wow. That's, uh, that's quite a lot there", John began as he considered how to answer Kate's questions. He had just started brewing the coffee and continued on, looking Kate directly in the eye, "Well, you've been so gracious and accepting with all of this and I want to be one hundred percent honest with you. Firstly, I guess what comforts me when I'm wearing a diaper.....is, I don't know, I guess it's kind of like a security blanket-type effect. It just makes me feel free of responsibility and stress. Secondly, I generally only wear them at night, and when I've got the house to myself because none of my roommates have ever known about it, nor did I want them to know about it. Lastly....ummm......truth is, I definitely don't.....you know.....number two. And honestly, I really don't even pee in them, though I have before. Especially when Jill first dumped me, let's just say I was pretty rough there for a few weeks and only got out of bed to go....number two." John deliberately left out the fact that he had inadvertently wet his diaper overnight three nights in a row, even though he wasn't even embarrassed answering Kate's questions, but knowing her background in the medical field, didn't want her to begin suggesting that he get check out by a doctor, after all he'd been sick and his body had been weakened. "So, you like how diapers feel?" Kate asked innocently with not even a trace of trying to hide laughter. "Yeah....I really enjoy it", John answered. At this point Kate ahd begun to fry up the French toast and she asked John to warm up some maple syrup in the microwave. He began to set the table, and walked over to check on the coffee, which was almost finished brewing. Kate had been stacking the toast on a plate, and when she was done, she placed the pan in the sink and carried the plate over to the table. John poured two mugs of coffee and was about to sit down across from Kate. As he began to pull the chair out, it didn't move. "Before you sit down.....can...can I see it?" Kate asked, holding the chair with her legs beneath the table so John couldn't move it. "Umm....I guess", John said in an extremely unsure manner, "I mean....." As John trailed off, Kate stood up and walked around the table to him. She reached for the waistband of his sweatpants and looked inquisitively at John, he nodded, and she slowly pulled his pants down revealing his somewhat wet diaper. "Oh....umm....did you pee, sweetie?" Kate asked as she noticed the wetness indicator's faded coloring. "No, no, they tend to do that when they're worn overnight.....the warmth, you know?" John tried to cover himself. "Okay, wow, these things are really thick. Much thicker than what they use for patients at the hospital. Where did you get these?" Kate seemed almost astonished. "Yeah, they are pretty thick. A medical supply website", John responded, "Can we please eat now?" "Okay, sorry, yeah, let's eat. Did I embarrass you just now?" Kate sweetly asked looking legitimately worried. "Ummm....no, not really. I don't think 'embarrassed' is the right word. I've never worn a diaper in front of anyone and I certainly never expected to wear one in front of a woman so beautiful as you", John confessed. They began eating after John assured her that he was all right. After they were finished John noticed that it was time for Kate to leave for work and told her that he would clean up the dishes. THey walked together to the front door. "Thanks for breakfast, I can see why your French toast is 'world famous'", John made sure to compliment Kate's cooking once again, even though he had a number of times as they ate. "You're welcome. Thank you for being so brave and answering all my questions and showing me your diaper. I think it will help me to continue to deal with this and be okay with it", Kate assured John that she still didn't care that he liked to wear diapers, and it helped knowing that he didn't really use them for their intended purpose, at least not often. With that they said goodbye, and John leaned forward and down to kiss Kate on the cheek, but she moved and met his lips with hers. "I've got meetings all day, so I won't be able to meet up for lunch or dinner today, but maybe we can hang out for a bit later on tonight?" Kate inqured. "Oh, okay, sure that'd be good. Just let me know", John replied as he watched her walk to her car.

Is this contained to wetting only? I can imagine how easy it would be to max out a diaper with messing.

First up, the OP isn't seeing a doctor. Second, what the heck do you discuss with a therapist that isn't private and personal? You don't pay them all that dosh to chat about the weather

WOW A U!!!! thats apretty low grade.... i'd think you'd have to work harder for a U than you would for at least a C....

Let me see... FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF(UUUUUUUUUUUUUUU)

i just like how you felt i was necessary to point out they were latino and call them amigos, and spell words all 'ghetto like'.... because men of all races don't act this way? puh lease... and i'm sorry so its not ok for men to make noises at women but its ok for women to blatantly stare at men, hit on them, and make gestures that imply the man is hot? so we've got racisms and double standards all in one post..... yay!

God gave you eyelids. Do us all a favor and next time you don't wanna see something, try closing them. It's pretty cool what happens! All of a sudden, it's like, all black! try it out.

But he's curious, and consenting. I've had an attraction to diapers all of my life, and I read in some real-life accounts that DLs would diaper their spouses and they would love it. If I were to put a diaper on my boyfriend, how would that feel? Have any of you diapered a partner of yours? Should I start gradually, like with Pull-ups or Goodnites? Or should I give him his own stack so he could put them on at his own leisure, before I do the honors? Thanks

Got an A in Mass Media, a B in Intro to Western Civ and Philosophy, and a C in English. Would have been an A in English, but I couldn't get my head wrapped around the third essay. Got an A on the final, though lol. ~Luci

my gf, an apartment for me & her, and bookshelves for all the books I'll have AB wise, still my gf (who's also my little one/Mommy), a oversized rocking chair, and pudding! \m/pudding\m/ ~Luci

Okay, so what if you're a trans woman who is into women, but is dating a woman who is also a trans woman, and you fantasize about having sex with your lover even though she has functioning male genitalia, but also fantasize about having sex with her with fully functioning female genitalia... Oww... Bugger it for a game of soldiers. I'm a trans woman who's gay. *shrugs* Let science or religion or society be damned. ~Luci

Regarding the lyrics debate, it's actually kinda interesting. Did a little research, and apparently people can't decide which band actually performed the song. However, seeing as Amazon only has a listing for Sweet, and not ELO, I'd have to go with Sweet on this one. Now, onto the sex-making! Being a virgin (I swear!), I haven't actually had sex with anyone, but I really really really want to lol. That, and I'm major into kink, so I wanna try a whole bunch of stuff . The first time I meet up with my gf (long distance), there is going to be some major practical experience ~Luci

Since I haven't been here for a very long time, I thought I would introduce myself. So good evenin' ladies and gents (girls and boys), My name, of course, is Luci Vaughn. I'm a 21 year-old transgendered lesbian, and have been a woman for as long as I can remember (the body may think it's male, but it hasn't a clue). I used to be purely a diaper-lover, but have recently begun exploring the adult-baby world as well. When I regress, I see myself as a five-year-old girl who, out of sheer stubbornness, still wears (and wets!) nappies, sucks a pacifier, and drinks from a bottle. I've never been normal as an adult, so why start now? lol I call myself Little Luci, because my sister used to call me little one, which guaranteed a happy smile . As far as big Luci's concerned, I'm a poet, sometimes photographer, fetishist, writer, avid reader, manic music lover, comic-junkie, total geek, complicated woman, tech fancier, and a bazillion other things. My turn-ons are almost anything, and my turn-offs are stupidity & puke. I'm currently taking college courses, and am aiming for a dual-masters in creative writing and human sexuality. I'd also love to host a radio program someday . If you want to know more about me, or just chat, I've got my IM names on my profile. Just please let me know who you are & where you're from, or I won't talk to you. Also, don't expect any cybersex (unless you're a woman, and even that's rare). ~Luci

I hope you aren't allergic to yours like I was to mine. Turns out I have a mild allergic reaction to latex lol, which sucks because I spent about 55 dollars on a paci and bottle nipple *pouts* ~Luci

So I stole this from another forum I frequent. Basically you say something about the person above you, and then someone else comes along and says something about that person. It's an interesting way to get to know people and have some fun . ~Luci

Okay, just saw Toy Story 3 today. It wasn't a packed theater, so I was able to have Wuffles out while I watched. I'd planned on being padded as well, but it turns out I'm not a large lol. I didn't have my bottle, either, due to an inability to get the godspounded nipple on, but I did have chocolate milk! Apparently AMC sells it in the drink case, and it's awesome! <-- never had chocolate milk before. Anywho, the movie was fantastic; it had the perfect combination of humor, suspense, and emotional pull. Oh, and I saw it in IMAX3D, which was killer! ~a very happy little Luci P.S.- I also bought myself (playing pretend as my Mommy, cuz I got those imaginatory skillz) a My Pretty Pony coloring book, crayons, and a Lemony Snicket book. P.P.S. - Whee!

So The Last Airbender comes out this week, and I'm super-excited (though i'm not sure if little Luci should be watching it lol). Since I'm excited, I thought I should bring forth a thread talking about whatever it is you're excited about . It can be ABDL-related or whatever else you want to talk about ~Luci

So who here likes anime!? Flock to me with your tales of wonder and spooky horror! I may even give you candy >.>* ~Luci *She won't give you candy. She only gives me candy! ME!

Not to argue with you, Elaine, but have you shared any of your diaper fiction with us? Have you read many other AB/DL stories? My point is that within this specialized form of fiction, there are accepted conventions. In many websites and many topics here in Daily Diapers we suggest that when a person feels the need to provide unsolicited advice to authors, the polite way is to do so in a PM or e-mail. You indicate a personal problem with the expression "she felt so little" This is used by many authors to express easily the emotions common to many adult babies. I have faith, considering the top-quality education of author G Climent, that he could craft another way of saying the same thing. Probably it would use twice the number of keystrokes. Just out of curiosity, Elaine, are you a big baby, as suggested by your screen name, or are you an experienced AB mommy as indicated in your profile? Since you joined DD you have posted so little I have not had the chance to know you. Do you have a background in editing for publication? Have a marvelous Holiday Season.

Hold it! So IF I am a bad speller and I reference people by there nationality..... that makes me a racist? Seriously! I will have you know that "LATINO" is a very common term and respected amongst many in the "LATINO" community. If I had used the word "mexikan" and god forbid SPELL IT WORNG, you could have a case. fyi, amigos translates to FRIENDS... tisk tisk

i was wondering if there is any way of telling if a girl has a diaper fetish? or maybe there is some sort of trap i could set like bringing diapers to a party as a gag.

If erect, then obviously up. It's really paniful to push down a hardie without masterbating. If not erect, then up, even though I have a long penis and the head stucks out the top of the diaper if I'm not careful. I had wet with the tip out the diaper many times. Oh, the perils of having a long penis. I'drather have a tiny one to fit in my diapers.

Sometimes I need to be talked to like a baby so badly that I feel like I'm on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I think that someone should set up an emergency ab hotline where people can call to be talked to like a baby for just a few minutes. I know that pay-per-call lines like this already exist, but some of us can't afford them. I say that we set up a free hotline for people who are truly on the verge of a nervous breakdown can call to be talked to like a baby for just a few minutes.