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A few year ago I posted how someone was throwing used adult diapers onto the grass meridian along Southland dr. and asked if that person saw the post to stop it. Well they are back at it! A few people said last time that maybe it was not someone from our community doing it and that was a possibility. But now I am pretty sure it is because there are different brands of diapers being tossed and some are AB printed diapers. I now live right by this location and I see the diapers every day. My first reaction was, oh an adult diaper, someone else likes to wear them like me. Then I thought, gross, someone is going to have to pick that up. Not only someone else is going to have to pick it up, but when they see that it is an AB diaper it reflects bad on our entire group.

When you're sitting in the break room browsing Facebook on your phone where everyone sitting at your table can see your screen and since you don't have any ad blockers on your phone, Facebook's marketing algorithms tracked your internet searches and a huge ad for LL Medico showing a pack of Abenas comes up as "recommended for you" on your feed.

I've never tried the trufit girls version but I imagine they are the same.

Lots to be said about the above post- very succinct indeed. Your employer may not be a problem as they have legal limitations to deal with and if they err it can hurt them greatly. They will not tell you what they think- that puts their neck in a legal noose and they're smarter than that. But as we all know they can find a reason the dispense with you if they want to. That's why you keep "the bedroom stuff" out of the workplace completely. If you wear at work you do it discretely, continuously, and claim incontinence if you have to go there As far as organizing, well forget that. Just take a look here on this site- how much cohesion do we have here even among those with the same proclivities? It's like herding cats where you fail no matter how hard you try and the effort is continuous and unending if you even hope to achieve a small part of your goal. We're not going to band together so the best that can be achieved is what we've got here- at least we talk among ourselves with a modicum of respect (and that sometimes has to be forced) It's the same thing with anything. If you want change then you have to cause it yourself and to do that you're going to have to step into the light of public scrutiny where you're going to be judged on a lot of things that do not relate to you or the matter at hand. If you don't do that you're efforts are wasted and doing nothing but causing things to remain the same as they are now by keeping people from coming together to create a solution. But those who do that will not see it that way and they will fight you and your efforts to the bitter end. And those who do make the effort will have to do it on their own or nearly so. You can't win in this game except on a personal level and even then the win will also include nearly equal losses so who is to call it a win? There's no right or wrong here, just cats of all different kinds doing their own thing because they want to and they can. We might as well just enjoy the company of all the other cats because that's all that is ever going to happen among us.

Ok, so those who care about public perceptions of abdls need to organize and figure out how to present it the way they want it to be presented. I, and many others don't care too much, so we see Stanley and Riley as brave people who simply expressed themselves, no biggie. Is this issue like the popular kids not wanting a less than popular kid hanging around with them, because they feel they will look bad by association? I mean, we wear diapers... If you ever get caught by your employer, I don't think it's gonna matter if they watched 15 stone babies, they will think it's weird.

Safe Sex The meeting had gone well, and it wasn't just the usual benediction that closes a business meeting. I had taken Matt into the office at Marguerite's model agency, and wasn't quite prepared for the amount of attention he received. He'd been given the once-over by some very professional - and critical - eyes, and had apparently been approved. Then we had settled in the boardroom, where both Marguerite and my manager, Julian, had questioned him, politely, but in a more searching manner than I would have believed possible. Julian, who is as gay as they come, had shown a remarkable perspicacity in the finer points of marriage, including several that had never even occurred to me, and I wondered from whence he had got his experience. Julian's private life was a closed book within the agency - he kept it entirely to himself. However Matt had sailed through this interrogation, and many items had been settled. We were both briefed on my career prospects, and Matt was questioned on his. Lips were pursed at his intention to join the Navy in order to progress his surgical training, and Marguerite had suggested he might apply to one of the London teaching hospitals, where something could perhaps be "fixed". I had heard of Marguerite's legendary powers as a fixer - partly due to her rumoured connection with the earthier side of modelling - but doubted if they would stretch that far. However, she seemed confident that something might be arranged. Then we got down to details of the wedding - something even Matt and I had barely sketched - and within minutes Marguerite had produced a plan of action for what promised to be the wedding of the year, which would generate the maximum income at the lowest cost. The photographs, the articles in the glossy magazines, and my various contracts with clothing companies were all discussed. I had to stick my toes in when it came to the dress - I had promised that job to Helen, my old school friend and confidante, as she was struggling to establish her own fashion label and desperately needed the publicity and patronage. I desperately needed Helen, too. I wanted her to exercise her skills with PUL fabric and make me some of those lovely nappies like Hal had been wearing, but of course I couldn't say that out loud. As for the underwear at the wedding, although I was contracted to Victoria's Secret, I had my own ideas - and I suspect Matt may have had similar ones. He was quite cheerful at using my fetish as a way to control me, and I was quite happy for him to do so; it gets quite mundane nappying oneself, and the frisson of being so intimately under his control turned me on something terrible. The thought of Matt's hands on me in the intimacy of my bedroom sent a tingle down my middle and, under the table, I slipped my hand into the inside of his thigh and felt the warmth of him. If anyone saw, they didn't comment; this was the custom in a model agency - one's sex life was one's own affair, although it was generally expected to be passionate. The one unspoken thing was motherhood; pregnancy could put me out of action for an entire season, and was something I quietly dreaded, since I was making excellent money. Oh Lord, give me motherhood - but not just yet! After the meeting closed, Matt took me home to my house in the Mews, and we paused for a while to examine that wretched mural, the one Spike had painted of me in a romper on top of my little car. I had been a bit shy of showing it to Matt, since Spike had always been a taboo subject, but he was history now and the scars were fading. Matt asked me if it had been done from life, and I told him that Spike, a notable graffiti painter, had to do all his pictures from memory, although the yellow romper was real and I still had it. Matt said he had never seen me in baby clothes and that started it. We repaired to my nursery in the garret, and I showed Matt the shelves full of bits and pieces, the stack of disposables, the carefully-folded terry nappies, and the less orderly plastic pants. In the drawer underneath was my hoard of clothes - the baby dolls, sleepers, onesies and rompers, not so many of them because either Julian had to buy them on my behalf, or I had to make them myself, and despite my teacher's most earnest efforts, I was no expert with a needle. Matt took out the romper in which Spike had painted me in his mural, and held it up against me. That really started it. It really shouldn't take three hours to get a nappy onto a little girl, no matter how much she wriggles and squeals, and one really shouldn't interrupt the procedure to make love, but after much wriggling and squealing, and at least a couple of interruptions, Matt duly succeeded in dressing me in my big terry nappy, plastic pants, t-shirt and romper, and I was sitting in my chair in the kitchen, dummy in my mouth, watching him make the supper. I knew my place, and what I had to do; only Matt could release me from my nappy, and it was up to me to make him want to do so. I was allowed to try anything, but I started with a bottle of champagne and went on from there. It really doesn't work, drinking champagne from a baby's bottle, but it's a lot better than milk. It doesn't really do to feed a baby with oysters, either, but sometimes one has to make compromises, and we both needed our sustenance; keeping an active toddler entertained can be so taxing. Two bottles of champagne later and Matt decided I needed changing. Then he decided to bathe me and put me to bed. In my befuddled state I decided that my next house would have to have a larger bath; one that would accommodate both of us in comfort, but eventually, in a state of complete euphoria, I allowed myself to be anointed and wrapped in a big terry nappy and fresh plastic pants before being popped into bed again with my arms around my big, warm, red-haired teddy bear. After all that champagne the nappy was a wise precaution, and I relaxed into its soft security and fell asleep almost immediately; one should, after all, always practise safe sex. The irony is that nappies are wasted on children, they really don't appreciate them as they should.

--- Seriously though, what she said is correct. I see it in chat a lot, someone comes in and just says "Anyone want to be my mommy?" and the answer is invariably no. Relationships aren't based on roles, they are based on people and if you want a relationship then you need to know the person not just see the "female" in their profile and ask the question above. If your goal here is to find a mommy/daddy/baby girl/baby boy then it can happen, I've seen plenty of people who have managed that... I managed it even. But for every person who finds their other half here there are many more who don't, and that is because if you come here specifically looking for someone else you will likely not find them. It always seems like the people I see get together on here do so almost by accident rather than either one specifically looking for anything. Do yourselves a favour... Don't waste your time cold messaging anyone who is female asking them to be in any type of relationship with you because it is likely that those who say yes are looking to take advantage and everyone else will say no or just completely ignore you.

The way I see it is this - there's simply no need to go on these type of shows anymore with the Internet being so ubiquitous. Now, before anyone gets the idea to jump down my throat about trying to say AB/DL and LGBT are the same thing, I'm not. But back in the day when I was still conflicted by my dysphoria and felt unable to do anything about it, resigned to a short and miserable "male" life,

These arrived today can't wait till bed time. My first ever proper abdl nappy.

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My crazy bladder has always done what it wanted to and it still does, so I get this a lot as well as the opposite I've been mid-change here at home, totally emptied a full bladder in the toilet, put a premium diaper on and soaked it till it leaked within a half hour I can usually feel when things are like this in the morning but occasionally I get caught off-guard. Then there are days when I hardly pee at all even with a steady and normal fluid intake Don't knoiw where it goes but I know it went in so it should have come out

Gotta say these are very good...hold a lot and swell up nicely when wet. Definitely impressed.

Beyond that, there are no secretes in prison, EVERYONE would know. so, basically, you would be shamed, ridiculed, probably raped, and really be miserable the whole time. not a good plan.

If you are found faking it, it might be even worse for you when you end up in a general population.

If I was in a psychiatric ward/prison... I would have bigger things on my mind than how to get nappies...

First off, there's no such thing as a "good lie."

ME! It's missing me