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  1. Well all, this is my first public attempt at writing a story. It will be quite long, and I have to apologize about the fact that this first part is quite long and may be boring....it's mostly setting up characters and the plot. Backstory is hugely important to me. I will gladly accept constructive criticism, especially from other writers, so please help me finish this. If the reaction is just plain "This sucks" I'll probably never finish it, fair warning lol. With that said, here we go. ____________________________________________ Will Jackson was not your average guy. If his parents had bothered to test him when he was a child, it is very likely that he would have been diagnosed with something. He just saw the world in a very different way, never really understadning other people. Needless to say, Will's parents never had him tested. As hard as it is to believe, they were a blend of WASPy lower class folks. Meaning, of course, that Will had to work very hard to maintain the ideal picture his parents had painted him into. Insanely intelligent, but lacking the emotional understanding of the world people around him had, Will embraced the concept of "Fake it til you make it". He was bullied for being different, and he always felt alone. Many nights he would silently sob as he wondered if anyone would ever really care to know him, to understand him in a way that would make him feel accepted, but he managed to grow into a very capable young man. Not that he understood people better, but he was successful at work and had learned all the right things to say to make people think he was "well adjusted". And then Will met Emily. With a massive smile, the kindest green eyes, and a personality that made veryone around her feel like they were completely loved and accepted, she stole his heart immediately. Not the small, "hot" girl that she thought all the men wanted, Emily went through life completely unaware of how most men viewed her, through that undefinable gaze that is a mixture of lust and worship. She had grown up in a family of athletes. While she had always played sports, and stayed physically active, those who should have supported her unconditionally continued to point out her weight. Sure, she was an even 6 feet tall, but you could lose some more weight if you were really trying, they assured her. She never once felt confident in her looks, sure the men who asked her home were just using her for sex. Theirs was a whirlwind affair that no one understood. The general consensus was that Emily could have done so much better. Even will thought so. He would constantly tell her that he was just happy to have her, and would do anything to keep her happy. And believe it or not, that's where their problems all started. ________________________________________________________________________ Through their marriage, Emily and Will developed the routines that married people always do. He made sure that she always knew how amazing she was, even pointing out the men around her who couldn't keep their eyes off of her, much to his consternation. It wasn't an immediate revelation, but one of those slow things that seem to seep into your life, that her confidence increased. She credited him for all of it, and never once did anything more than laugh at the advances of other men, telling her she had the perfect one already. Emily gave Will what he had always wanted, someone who really saw him. Who didn't take offense to his questions which to most sounded sarcastic, but were truly honest. She saw the depths of him, the entrenched pain and emotion he had no way to relieve before her. Their life, like any life, was far from ideal. They would fight, they would upset each other, they would occasionally say cruel or thoughtless things to each other. But they always came together, and their marriage grew and flourished into one of those that others secretly envied. And as is usually the case, the happy couple was oblivious, giving very little thought to anything outside their world. Each year it had become a tradition that, on their anniversary, they would share some detail about themselves that the other person had never known. These ranged big to small, some secret that no one else in the world knew, like favorite childhood toys, or a secret sexual fetish they had never tried but wanted to (Emily wanted to try pegging; Will wanted her to wear a sexy maid outfit). Things that no one else in the world knew. Oh sure, there were gifts given, but those small pieces of each others souls were the true treasure. They always shared a similar secret. The night Emily told Will about the man who had forced himself on her, Will shared the abuse suffered from his parents. These things bound them together. As they approached their 15th year, Emily could tell something was off with Will. He was moody, in his way, usually lashing out at random people in anger. While coping with his problems was always stressful to him, she could tell that something different was going on. He usually worked all day, came home at night and talked to her, before he would cook her a nice meal and clean the house. She felt bad about how much he did for her, but he always seemed to get even more moody if she tried to help around the house. Oh sure, he would tell her how proud he was, and thankful, but she knew him well enough to see the strange sight of longing and hurt when he came home and there were no dishes to do. But now he was coming home and not spending their time together, that precious hour that theu spent together talking about their day. Will knew this was it. It was finally time to let go of his biggest secret. He'd harbored it his whole life, never acting on any of it. Hearing his parents voice the whole time, "this is not how we act. Grow up! Why can't you just be norma?!" But Emily deserved the truth. She deserved to understand the man (ha!) she had married, and he wasn't sure it wouldn't emd everything. Oh, he could keep on as he was, hiding this last morsel of himself from the woman who had come to mean everything to him, and he could even be happy. He was happy, which he felt was all he really needed. Just that alone was more than he ever expected to have. But Emily deserved it. As their anniversary morning came, Emily woke Will with a big kiss, like every other morning. "I can't wait until tonight" she told him, and was shocked to see panic cross his face as he replied "me too". There was definitely something off, but she would wait. If he didn't come out with it, she would! ________________________________________________ Will just couldn't focus all day. Everything he did, he seemed to screw up. It was so bad that his boss James finally called him into the office. "Will buddy, what the hell is going on with you today?" he asked. "Oh nothing much" will replied distractedly. "Cut the crap. You're my best guy on most days, but the last two weeks you've acted like a damn intern. Cut the crap and tell me what's going on now man". There was a moment of contemplation, that wierd tic that set some people off. While James maintained his professionalism, he pretty much thought of Will as one of his favorite people. The man never spoke without knowing what he wanted to say, and he never misled anyone. If a project was behind, Will came in with all the information; how far behind they were, what happened, and what it would take to get back on track, while others would try to hide any errors. Oh, you could never let him talk to a customer, he would run them out the door in seconds, but if you wanted something done, and done right, just hand it to Will and get out fo his way. "Well, it's my anniversary tonight, and I kind of have a gift for my wife. It's big but I'm not sure she'll like it, and it's kind of worrying me" Will said, as internally he wondered if it wouldn't be the end of his marriage with a dry laugh. "For drying out loud Will, is that all it is? That woman worships the ground ou walk on man. What'd you get her?" "Uh, it's kinda private..." he replied. "I get it buddy. Kinky, huh?" James laughed."Well how about this, it's Tuesday. Why don't you take the rest of the week off and make sure she likes it. My treat buddy. You've got so much time saved up, and you're between projects, so just take the week and show her a good time" James laughed. "That might be great actually" Will replied. No need to mention he might be homeless by the end of the day. "Well that settles it. Take the time, you've more than earned it. Give Emily my best." ______________________ As he walked into the house, Will could see the love of his life curled up on the porch, drinking coffee and reading. It was time to rip the band aid off, and face his new life. "Hey there sexy!" she smiled up as he leaned down for a kiss. "You're home early." "Yep, and I've got the rest of the week off to spend with you," he told her as she squealed in delight. Time with Will was the best thing ever. "Oh that's so awesome! It's gonna be amazing!" They had no need to discuss plans, their perfect day was just reading together. Being near each other seemed to be a salve to them. Will smiled, but Emily was fed up with the crap. "Will, what's wrong? You aren't yourself lately, and it's scaring me. You seem so sad, and I have no idea what it's about. Please talk to me?" she begged. She knew he needed to tell her in his own time, but she was tired of waiting. They had been through so much together, why was he just now acting like he was? "Right. I guess it's time. Are you ready for your anniversary present?" he asked her, seeing the confusion on her face. They usually both loved this tradition, it brought tears sometimes for sure, but they had always strived to know each other completely. "Of course I am! What did you get me this year?" she playfully asked. This was their thing. Another small tidbit of insight into the man who had become a part of herself. "What's that look for?" she asked when she noticed the grim shadow on his face. "Emily, I only have one more deep secret to share. I love you, and I need you to know before I tell you that you mean more to me than anything else" he said as her eyes grew wider, bordering on alarm. "What is it? You're scaring me...." she whispered. She'd never seen this look on his face and she found she hated it. "It's just something that I've hidden my whole life, andI want you to know I don't expect you to accept it. I've kept it hidden this long, and I don't need to indulge it now, but it's a part of me, and you deserve to know all of me." "Will, please, what is it?" she asked, just hoping to wipe the dejected look off his face. A version of the look he got when he admitted the disgust his parents felt in him, but worse; she could read that the disgust came from himself. With a final sigh, Will cut the last string from his old world. "I'm an adult baby."
    3 points
  2. Just a heads up. I'm finishing up with some dialogue alterations. Thanks for your patience on the upcoming chapter!
    3 points
  3. PoohbearBB imagine how I felt at 13 years old for the first time pooping my diaper and enjoying it so much. The thoughts that ran through my head. I could never, ever tell my parents. For sure they would have me committed. I couln't tell friends for fear of ridicule. I was stuck with something that I enjoyed and could not share with anyone. I finally told a girlfriend in high school and we both enjoyed diapers together. After high school we lost contact, and then on to college where there was a lot more promiscuity and it was more of a wild thing to do. I answered you because I went through a 22 year marriage by myself with diapers. I told my husband and he just never came near me in diapers. We had a great marriage and diapers was just my thing alone. Now being with a person that enjoys diapers and pee and poop as much as I do its a completely different ballgame. Like I said life is full of surprises..
    2 points
  4. Special Alert! Patreon now offers annual membership which means instead of paying from month to month you pay once for the whole year! I'm offering a 16% discount (the most Patreon will allow) to anyone who signs up and that works out as roughly two months of free content! Scott has to leave the relative safety of his bedroom yet again when his biological father asks to see him. Scott has to contend with yet more embarrassment but maybe it isn't as bad as he thought it would be... It may well be better than what is waiting for him back at home. --- This story has been available on my Patreon page for the last week and with a $5 a month pledge you can see all my updates a week before anyone else. For $10 a month you can get early access plus access to TWENTY-NINE EXCLUSIVE stories that only my patrons get to see. If you are interested please consider giving my Patreon page a look https://www.patreon.com/Elfy88 --- Scott was laying on his back the next morning and staring up at the ceiling as his mum changed his nappy. He was still thinking about how he was the only padded person in the family. He hadn’t realised until now that he had always consoled himself by saying he wasn’t alone in nappies but now that crutch had been pulled away and exposed as nothing but an excuse. “Your father wants to see you today.” Deborah said as she wiped her eighteen-year-old son clean, “Your biological father.” “I can’t… I mean, he’ll know about…” Scott spluttered as he tripped over his words. “He already knows.” Deborah said simply, “You haven’t seen him in ages. I had to tell him what was going on here though I don’t see what the big deal is.” Scott cringed as he imagined how his father had reacted to the news. Yet again someone had been told he wore nappies without Scott being informed, at this point he wouldn’t have been surprised if his unfortunate condition had been broadcast on the national news. Scott’s mum was correct though, Scott would usually go to his dad’s for at least a day each weekend but it had been a long time since he had last done that. “I’ll be dropping you off over there after lunch.” Deborah finally said when Scott remained silent for the rest of the nappy change. Scott spent the morning trying to think about how conversations with his father would go. There wasn’t a scenario that didn’t leave him feeling entirely humiliated and embarrassed. His dad knew that he had issues with being able to hold on for the toilet sometimes but Scott was sure he had never imagined his son would end up like this. The car journey was quiet. Scott was mortified that his mother decided that he should sit in the child seat. He had begged not to be forced to sit there the entire time he was strapped in, by the time Deborah had finished tightening the straps Scott didn’t have much room at all. His bag with a change of clothes was next to him and over against the far door was his dreaded nappy bag. Scott had watched his mum pack the bag full of nappies and changing supplies with an inevitable dread. “Here we are.” Deborah said as she pulled up on the curb outside the house, “I’ll walk you in.” Scott had to wait in the car seat with his legs dangling over the edge until his mother opened the door and released him. He dropped down and gathered his two bags before following his mother up the path to the house with his proverbial tail between his legs. “Hello Deborah.” Scott’s dad said when he opened the door, “And Scott! It’s good to see you!” “Hi, Dad.” Scott replied sheepishly. “Lewis.” Deborah said politely but without any great warmth. They had been divorced a long time and although there was no hate between them it was clear neither wanted to spend more time with the other than necessary. “I’ve got Scott until tomorrow, right?” Lewis asked. “Yes, he’s all yours.” Deborah replied as she patted Scott on the head, “Are you sure you’ll be able to handle his nap-” “I’ll be fine.” Lewis smiled and stepped aside, “Come on in, Scott.” Scott walked in and after hearing some muttered pleasantries the door was closed. There was a rather awkward silence in the hallway as Scott couldn’t look up at his dad and Lewis had no idea what to say to his son. “I’m going to take this stuff up to my room…” Scott muttered after a silence that felt like it stretched into infinity. “Sure.” Lewis said, “I’ll be in the living room if you need… Well, if you need me.” Scott was glad to get away. He liked his dad a lot but he had no idea how to approach the topic of nappies with him. He went up the stairs and down the landing to his bedroom, he dropped his bags on the floor and flopped down on to his bed. His nappy was already damp despite being changed shortly before the trip here. After a few minutes Scott realised he wouldn’t be able to hide away in his room forever and his poor father hadn’t had a chance to see him in ages. The nappy problem would be brought up sooner or later so Scott decided to be courageous for once and head to the living room. On the stairs Scott listened out for any crinkling but his trousers did a decent job of keeping the noise down. He could hear the television on in the living room as he got close, as soon as the door opened Lewis looked around. Scott walked straight over to the couch and sat down, he deliberately looked at the TV. “Scott, I just want to say that you don’t have to be embarrassed around me.” Lewis said after a few minutes in front of the television, “I know about your issues and I want to help you with it.” “Thanks, Dad.” Scott replied. He knew he was blushing but there was little he could do about that. “It’s just a temporary thing.” Lewis continued with a smile, “You’ll get through it. You just need to keep trying and soon you’ll be back in your old underwear.” Scott smiled despite his embarrassment and with the ice broken the two men started talking about sports and music, it was always their go to conversation topic. For the first time in weeks Scott was able to temporarily forget about all the nappies and other stresses as he talked to his dad just like any other time. Before he knew it his father was getting up to start dinner. As Lewis left the room Scott stood up to stretch. He immediately felt his bladder empty itself into the padding, by the time he stopped he was soaked. Even worse he felt a pressure coming from his rear end. After so many days of pooping himself as soon as he felt the need Scott wasn’t concentrating and without thinking he started pushing the poop out of his body. Scott tried to stop the messy accident far too late. By the time he tried to clench himself closed the poop had already slid out of his body and laid on top of the padding. Scott winced but knew that he might as well finish the job. He squatted low to the ground and felt a rush of hot crap firing out of him and expanding the nappy around his waist. “Damn…” Scott muttered in defeat as he straightened his legs again. Scott had known he was very unlikely to get away from here without messing but he hadn’t expected it so soon. He looked to the doorway and knew he would have to ask his father the most embarrassing question he would ever ask. “Dad…” Scott stood in the doorway to the kitchen. He could feel the slimy mess in his nappy rubbing against his legs. “What’s up?” Lewis asked without turning from the kitchen counter. “I ne-” Scott started. “Oh, hold on a second. I forgot, do you prefer beef or pork?” Lewis asked oblivious of his son’s discomfort. “What? Oh… Beef, I suppose.” Scott replied, “But I really ne-” “Beef, of course!” Lewis said as he walked over to the fridge which happened to be right next to Scott, “I bought both just in case.” “Thanks…” This was getting harder the longer this was drawn out, “But I re-” “Wait a minute…” Lewis closed the fridge door. He was looking around as if he couldn’t quite place his finger on something, “Do you smell that?” “Yes, I do.” Scott was cringing, “I ne-” “Oh, don’t tell me the sewage pipe burst AGAIN!” Lewis threw his hands in the air, “It took me two months of complaining to the landlord for him to ge-” “I POOPED MYSELF!” Scott finally yelled over his dad. He was exasperated by the constant interruptions and his frustrations temporarily overcame his embarrassment. “I… You… Oh.” Lewis looked taken aback, “Sorry, I should’ve let you finish.” “It’s fine.” Scott felt the humiliation flooding his body again. It was a sadly familiar feeling for him, “But I would really like a change.” “O-Of course.” Lewis looked around the kitchen, “Yeah, we have time to sort that out before I need to do anything. Let’s, erm, get this done.” Scott turned around and as he awkwardly waddled back towards the stairs he felt like he could feel his dad looking down at his butt. He went up and into the bedroom where his bags were, his dad followed a few feet behind. Scott picked up the bag with all the changing supplies and handed it to his father. “It’s been quite a while since I’ve done this.” Lewis said with a nervous chuckle. Scott put his hands on his trousers but didn’t pull them down. He looked around at the room he had spent a lot of time in and then up at his dad who still looked anxious about the task he had to perform. All of a sudden Scott wasn’t sure he could do this. One of his hands went up and covered his eyes as panic threatened to overwhelm his whole body. “Hey, hey, hey.” Lewis stepped forwards and put a hand on Scott’s shoulder, “It’s OK. Remember what I said, this is just a little blip. I’m not judging you for this, I just want you to be comfortable. I won’t pretend this isn’t weird but I’m here for you.” Scott nodded his head and with embarrassment he pulled down on his pants exposing his nappy to his dad for the first time. He tried to avoid his dad’s look of obvious shock as he sat on the edge of the bed and spread his accident. He took a deep breath as he laid back and felt the poop get smeared up towards his lower back. “Right…” Lewis said as he clapped his hands together like someone about to put together flat pack furniture. “Do you need help?” Scott asked as he looked up at the ceiling. “No, no. I’ve got it.” Lewis said, “You just, erm, relax?” If Scott hadn’t been so embarrassed he would’ve found this funny. His dad held up a fresh nappy and turned it around as if he had never seen one before and then dropped the tub of baby wipes causing some to drop out over the floor. It was far from the sleek procedure Scott was used to with his mum. Eventually the tapes were pulled off the front of the nappy which was lowered to expose the extent of the accident it contained. Clearly Lewis hadn’t been expecting the smell as he quickly recoiled, when he saw the mortified look his son was giving him he quickly tried to cover his tracks. “I’m just going to open a window…” Lewis said haltingly to try and explain his hesitation. Despite his horror at the situation he was in Scott couldn’t help but laugh. His small giggling became bigger and bigger until he had to stop himself rolling off the nappy he was still sitting on. He didn’t even know why he was laughing, there was something about his dad’s awkwardness that just seemed to break the stress for a moment. Lewis, despite not knowing exactly why Scott was laughing, found the mirth infectious and soon he was laughing as well. For five minutes the two men laughed about the absurdity of the situation and even about the fact they were laughing. Finally Lewis came back to the bed and started cleaning his son’s nappy area. His inexperience only made Scott laugh more and to everyone’s surprise the rest of the change happened without incident. The stay at his dad’s ended up being a great time for Scott. After the change they watched a bunch of football together whilst talking and Lewis even cancelled his plan of cooking dinner in favour of ordering pizza. It was great fun and even the nappy changes lost any of their awkwardness. Scott was sad that the next day when he had to pack his thigs away and head back home. When he saw his mum’s car pull up he hugged his dad goodbye and walked down to meet her. “Hello, sweetie.” Deborah said as he opened the rear door, “Did you have fun?” “Yes, Mummy.” Scott replied sheepishly. Without being prompted Scott had sat himself in the car seat and Deborah had stepped out of the car to strap him in. Once he was fully secured she placed her palm against his nappy, when she felt that it was dry she nodded her head approvingly. “I take it Lewis changed you recently?” Deborah asked with arched eyebrows. Scott nodded in embarrassment. He didn’t want to admit it but the only times he was dry these days was when he had just been changed and simply not had time to wet himself. Deborah sighed tiredly and then walked back to the driver’s seat. Scott saw a couple of young women walk by the car as he waited to leave and he saw them look in, they hurried away giggling when they saw the big baby. Scott was glad when they finally pulled off the curb and started driving home. Scott sat back and allowed himself to sink into the restrictive and cramped seat. His head lulled against the side support of the seat as he watched their progress out of the windows. The trip was short and when the car stopped and Scott was unbuckled he hopped out of the car with a sigh of resignation. It felt like all the stress that had lifted off his shoulders had dropped back on them again. Scott walked in the front door and took his shoes off slowly. He headed straight upstairs to put his stuff away and had his mum following him up. He opened the door to his room and walked inside, it was only after a couple of steps that his brain registered that something was different and very, very wrong. “Now before you overreact…” Deborah started to say from the doorway. “What have you done to my room!?” Scott exclaimed as he dropped his bag on the floor and looked around.
    2 points
  5. An intelligent college girl attempts self-hypnosis to try and alleviate her stress, wth a bit of small ABDL twist... Come on… come on… just say it already! The young woman chastised herself as she stared at her reflection in the mirror, an act she had been doing for the last ten minutes as she desperately tried to force herself to say the “magic words” that would free her from her worry, if only for a little bit. Abigail, or Abby for short, was a straight A student, graduating with honors as valedictorian, currently attending college on a scholarship. However, you wouldn’t know it by her current attire, dressed in a baby blue onesie with a ruffled skirt around the waist that did absolutely nothing to hide the pronounced bulk of the diaper she was wearing underneath it all. Her long brown hair had been done up into pigtails and a pacifier dangled on a string from her neck, completing the look of an overgrown toddler rather than the intelligent young woman she really was. All of which had been Abby’s goal all along. For while she was very smart, she also tended to become a neurotic mess when stressed, which was becoming more and more frequent as she got older. By total accident while scrolling online, Abby had discovered the world of Adult Babies and had latched onto the idea of regressing to a simpler time, one when she didn’t have to worry about essays, or dissertations, or any of the stresses of her adult life, if even for a short time. However, while this method had done wonders to elevate her stress levels, there was still always this nagging worry in the back of her mind that had sullied the experience for her and made her longe for the true Adult Baby experience. Like she always did when she encountered a problem needing to be solved, Abby had thrown herself into research, eventually finding a potential solution to this issue: hypnosis. Despite the more fantastical fabrications of hypnosis in media, there still was a factual basis in mentally training oneself into a more desirable state fully within their control, one which Abby fully intended to use to her advantage, commissioning for herself a hypnosis tape that would finally let her live out her dreams to the fullest. The wait had been truly agonizing, but eventually the tape had arrived. Abby had made sure to commit the instructions to memory, listening to the tape every night for a week before she had finally worked up the courage to attempt a trial run. Diapering herself up, Abby had stood infront of her mirror for almost an hour before she had finally been able to mutter the trigger phrase: “It’s Baby Time… It’s Baby Time… It’s Baby Time.” That was it, three times like in the movie Beetlejuice, and everything had changed. Like magic, Abby had fallen onto her padded rear as her mind regressed back to a more infantile mindset like she had always wanted. For the next hour Abby had been in heaven as she crawled around her apartment, played with toys and even used her diaper without a care in the world. All her memories and mental capacities were still present, just taking a short backseat to the more babyish mindset and once the hour had been up Abby had immediately reverted back to her old self with full memories of her time spent as a carefree baby, happier than she could ever remember feeling and eager to do it again the following week. This was actually her third time trying this, and still her nerves betrayed her as she continued to second guess her preparations. She had made sure to install childproof locks onto all the cupboards and drawers, triple checked that anything dangerous was well out of her reach, and had even gone as far to buy and set up an adult sized playpen that took up a large chunk of her apartment, ensuring that she had a safe area to play in. Sitting in that very playpen, she glared at the mirror on her living room table as she tried to will herself to take that last step once more. Taking a deep breath, she did her best to push everything else out of her mind as she worked her mouth. “It’s Baby Time…” That’s once. “It’s… Baby Time…” That’s twice, come on, Abby! You’re almost there! “It’s… Baby… Time!” Like flicking a switch, Abby’s eyes lost some of their intelligence as the hypnosis worked its magic, drool beginning to drip down her chin as her mouth babbled away unintelligently. The regressed Abby wasted little time in getting on her hands and knees and crawling across the padded floor of her playpen, her poofy behind wiggling behind her as she inched closer and closer towards her toys scattered around her. Suddenly, Abby stopped, as she realized that something was missing, but her infantile mind was having trouble grasping just what that was. Your pacifier! Came a voice from the back of Abby’s mind. Your pacifier! Hearing this voice, Abby looked around for a moment before glancing down and spotting her pacifier dangling from around her neck, giggling and cooing as she grabbed it and popped it into her mouth, suckling away at it like it was the most normal and natural thing in the world. With her Paci now located, Abby continued her journey over to her toys, grabbing a few lettered blocks and beginning to stack them up one after the other. Occasionally, usually by accident, she would manage to form a simple word from the blocks, but she was far more focused on simply stacking them up and knocking them back down again, giggling to herself every time like it was the funniest thing in the world to her. Once the blocks finally became boring, Abby switched to the stacking rings, and then to just cuddling her stuffed Build-A-Bear as she rolled around on her back, giggling and cooing ever more as she waved the stuffed animal over her head. In the middle of all this, the urge to relieve herself briefly made itself known, but Abby barely registered the sensation before it transitioned into the new sensation of her diaper growing warm beneath her as she freely wet herself. Life for the moment was just one happy moment after another for Abby, and she was enjoying every moment of it as a week’s worth of stress and worry just melted away. About forty or so minutes into her Baby Time, however, there was a knock at the door. Abby was far too engrossed in her play to even notice it, not even when the lock turned and the door began to open. “Abby? You here?” Erica called out as she stepped into Abby’s apartment. She knew it was rude to just waltz into her best friend’s apartment like this, but Abby had trusted her with a key to her place for this very reason, so when she had been unable to reach Abby after multiple attempts she had decided to check for herself. As she closed the door behind her, her eyes were immediately drawn to the colourful playpen in the middle of the room. “Huh, what’s that doing he–“ Erica’s eyes went wide upon seeing who it was occupying the oversized playpen, running over and peering inside. “A–Abby!?” Hearing her name, Abby stopped playing for a moment as she looked up at the strange woman towering over her. A spark of recognition flashed in her eyes upon seeing the familiar woman, babbling out “Recra!” as she made to reach out for the woman. Finally, someone new to play with her. Erica was at complete loss for words as she took in the sight of her best friend since childhood dressed like an oversized infant and playing with toys in a massive playpen. “… Haha, you really got me, Abby. Good one…” Erica replied, expecting Abby to snap back to normal now that the “joke” had played itself out, but Abby did none of that, continuing to babble and coo at her friend. “I’m serious, Abby, enough is enou–“ Erica froze as she watched a strange look come over Abby’s face for a moment before the regressed girl began to grunt and push, her face turning bright red as she took on a look that Erica had seen many times from babysitting her infant nieces and nephews. “Abby, you’re not going to–“ Her answer came in a loud release of gas from Abby’s bottom before the diaper, which Erica had only just now noticed, beneath her onesie began to balloon outward as it began to fill up. If there was any doubt in Erica’s mind what she had just witnessed, it was instantly dispelled by the telltale odor of a very messy diaper that wafted up to her nose. Stepping back, Erica just stared as Abby just continued to play, not caring in the slightest that she had just messed herself right before her best friend’s shocked eyes. Worry began to fill Erica’s mind as she desperately tried to make sense of this strange and outlandish scenario she had suddenly found herself in. Had Abby finally snapped under the pressure? Should she call someone? What should she do? Breathing for a moment, Erica did her best to try and rationalize the situation. This whole set up with the playpen, onesie, and even the diaper seemed much too planned out for a sudden bout of madness, and a glance around the apartment revealed that childproof locks had been set up ahead of time, revealing a hint of premeditation and forethought involved. Stepping into the kitchen, Erica quickly noticed an empty bottle sitting on the counter, a note pinned beneath it. Picking up the note, she recognized Abby’s meticulous handwriting as she read. To whoever reads this, this must mean that you’ve found out about my little secret. Please, don’t panic, the method I used to do this is only temporary and will automatically undo itself after an hour has passed. If you must get an explanation now, all you have to do is say “It’s Grown Up Time” three times and I’ll immediately revert back to normal. I know you must have a million questions right now, and I don’t blame you, and I will explain as to the best of my abilities why I have done this, but the short version is that this to me is a form of relaxation and/or therapy to me, a way to help relieve the stresses of daily life. Please, I beg you not to judge me too hard for this, and I’m sure we can work out some kind of understanding between us eventually. Signed, Abigail. P.S. If it’s not too much trouble, could you perhaps give me a change while you’re here? Pretty please? I’ll probably need one before the time is up. “Typical Abby…” Erica chuckled to herself upon reading the note. While she did have many questions, she was relieved that Abby had found a means of relaxing and distressing that suited her, often telling the overachiever that she was for too high strung for her own good. Judging by the blissful state she had seen her in just moments before, this method seemed to be working too, and Erica felt bad about ending it prematurely right now. “She did say it would end in an hour, so I have some time…” Smiling, Erica walked back over to the playpen and peered inside again, gazing down at Abby as the diapered girl continued to play without a care in the world, even while wearing a very messy diaper. “She did ask nicely, so what kind of friend would I be if I wasn’t willing to help?” Leaning down, Erica ticked Abby’s belly, resulting in a cacophony of laughter to spill forth from the regressed Abby. “Does Abby want her diapee changed? Would she like that?” Only getting more giggles in response, Erica quickly spotted a diaper bag sitting nearby. Picking it up, she carefully stepped into the playpen and couched down over the oblivious Abby. Well versed in the ways of changing diapers, Erica carefully unsnapped the buttons on Abby’s onesie, awning at the adorable prints scattered across her diaper even in its used state. Undoing the tapes, Erica braced herself as she opened up the diaper and the smell of the fresh mess wafted into the air, quickly pulling the diaper out from under Abby and rolling it into a ball to be thrown away in a bit. Pulling out a container of wipes from the back, Erica went to work on cleaning Abby’s bottom, the could wipe prompting Abby to coo even more as it tickled her skin. One quick application of baby oil and powder later, and Erica unfolded a fresh diaper to slide under Abby’s bottom and tape her securely into to. During the whole ordeal, Erica couldn’t help but think on how surreal this whole thing was as she changed her genius friend into a clean diaper. Still, Erica had always been a mothering type, and seeing Abby in such a way was bringing out her maternal side in full force. “There, all comfy and safe in your new diapeee! Does the baby like that?” “Wike! Wike!” Abby babbled happily from behind her pacifier. “Now, you stay right here while I go get you a reward…” Picking up the used diaper, Erica stepped into the kitchen and disposed of it into the trash bin. After washing her hands, she scooped up the baby bottle still sitting on the counter and filled it up with milk from the fridge. A few seconds in the microwave, and Erica returned to Abby with a warm bottle of milk in her hand. “Bottle time!” She declared as she stepped back into the playpen and sat down. Pulling her regressed friend over to her and positioning her so she was seated comfortably in her lap, Erica popped the pacifier free from Abby’s mouth. The regressed young woman looked on the verge of tears at the loss of their beloved Paci, but it was quickly forgotten as the nib of a bottle replaced it, their suckling now earning them warm milk in return. “You know, I don’t know if you can understand me right now, Abby…” Erica began to say as she continued to bottle feed her friend, “… but I’m really enjoying this new side of you, and I wouldn’t mind getting a chance to help you experience this again. What do you say, would you like it if I became your new ‘Mommy’ for a bit?” As her belly filled with warm milk, Abby’s regressed mind seemed to register the word “Mommy”, sighing happily as she shifted closer into Erica’s lap. The new caregiver just smiled as she continued to feed her best friend, hoping that this wouldn’t be the last time she would get the chance to do so.
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  6. One of my wishes is that I could move out into the country away from everyone and just wear a diaper outside in the yard. Run around play or whatever in a diaper and thats it. Anybody else ever wanted to do that as well? Just always been something I have always wanted to do. Closest thing I can do is wear my diaper under clothes. Oh well. One can wish and dream.
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  7. Welcome! I’m glad you’ve made the decision to be happy, please let us know if you need any support. And as always, STAY SAFE AND SOGGY! ?
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  8. I love them so much, I use them as covers over disposables (Because I can never clean a cloth diaper well) and I would get millions more!
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  9. 1) So far this hasn't been a problem 2) I almost threw up last night, but managed to hold off. 3) I've cut sodas and energy drinks out completely. 4) Working on this. 5) I've done exactly as you said, and am trying to do better about it now.
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  10. I discovered my interest in real plastic baby pants at puberty (early 60s). I found some Empire plastic baby pants, sized toddler super large that I could fit in to with no problem. Loved the look and feel and when I rubbed on them they felt great and didn’t leave a mess on the sheets. I also loved the plastic backed baby diapers for their look, feel and baby powder smell. I probably could have fit in the largest size because they look larger then the ones today but never tried to. Wish I had tried to. Not interested in dirty diapers but have used them to pee in if I need to. Love the smallest diaper because they look more like a real diaper. Don’t care for the bulky adult diapers. Found some youth size plastic pants that look and feel like my first plastic baby pants. Like to hear how and when others became interest in plastic pants and diapers if it all started when they were young.
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  11. In Europe, they think 200 miles is far. In America we think 200 years is old.
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  12. City folk thinking 200 miles is a long ways away.
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  13. Yup. Definitely. More and more common these days that even if I have sensation it is only within a few seconds of a release. It seems my rate of dribbling is now at around 50% where wetness is occurring but no real feeling. If I try to draw my attention to it I honestly couldn’t tell you how full my bladder was, or if I was dribbling at that moment. What is odd to me, and departs from your report is that when an urge strikes at my awareness it is inevitably too late for any meaningful intervention. I recall reading somewhere that the average stream duration in mammals is about 21 seconds. I seem to typically have about 5-7 seconds of sensation, when I have it all. WhT I’m getting at is that by the time N urge is registered and I take notice, have an opportunity to take action I’m already T the 4 second mark. I imagine I could try a kegal maneuver but considering sensation discontinues a second later I would have no real feedback. The only exception to that is if I happen to be in a position change or moving, occasionally things clench for a second before what feels like unbearable pressure finally triumphs no more than a couple seconds later. I can delay things by a few more seconds if I’m already clamped down, but history tells me that I no longer get a full closure. Rather a 90% reduction; an imperfect seal. It very is an odd level of awareness. I question what the body is trying to do by giving me a signal but only to have it be too late. History says that the progressive lack of signaling will continue in waves until they are no longer sent or until they are ignored. On a random note I find that on nights where my chronic insomnia is at it’s peak, spending what little sleep I get in that state between dream and the edge of consciousness i occasionally find myself with an aching bladder. The other end of the spectrum for the neurogenic bladder which thankfully is being experienced less and less.
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  14. Hello everyone, I'm looking for the stories of an old yahoo group, where the stories of the politech institute were written. I understand that the group has been closed for years and that finding these stories is very difficult right now. Maybe someone has compiled them and wants to share them. I found this pdf, a long time ago and I share it. If someone who knows how to search the internet can find these stories, they would be very useful to the community. the+Politech+shorts.pub.pdf
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  15. She was kind enough to warn him not to open the package in the park, so It’s likely she will be even more gentle while it becomes harder and harder for him to get a single drop of pee into the toilet. Of course I’m wondering about the triggering method...
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  16. Oh, now that looks cute. I just peed my diaper looking at that. If i were there i would not be able to keep from rubbing that crotch. I hope you wouldn't mind if I would put my hand down the frontto check for wetness.
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  17. Pooh you're a sweet guy and I know you from chat. Respect her wishes sweetie believe me. If you want to try the pooping so badly, wait till shes going to be gone a few hours and enjoy yourself. Air the place out and have the thrill of a lifetime. Never force it on her. She already indulges you. Be happy with what you have now. Sweetie we never know what the future has in store for us. What if one day you come home and she tells you to poop your diaper ? Things have a way of happening that we cannot control. Be patient and love your partner with all your heart.
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  18. I made an account just so I could complement you on your amazing story! Please keep going
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  19. @Flaresnare Welcome to DD - I was a lurker just like you, and I've been that way for 24 years. In 2019, I finally decided to Join, because I had been dealing with Diverticulitis, IBS, and Incontinence for many years - In 2020, I made the decision to go 24/7 in diapers because I wanted to be able to live my LIFE, rather than to have my BLADDER and BOWELS control me: The people here are friendly, helpful, and each one has a story to tell, and each has unique experiences and prospective to share! Feel free to kick back and relax - You are among friends here Brian
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  20. One thing I could suggest to the voice in your head is that, after the previous couple of economic meltdowns, stimulus spending resulted in the markets eventually roaring back to life, which helps on the investment side, and somewhat suddenly, companies that cut until it bled start looking for flesh to put back into the gashes. A good friend of mine is in IT upper management, and he got let go, get a decent package, then worked as a consultant for an outrageous hourly rate intermittently for about a year, and then got offered a job by one of his clients, so that they could stop paying him that hourly rate. When it was all over, he figured that he'd banked three years' salary in the course of 18 months, and, while he was earning slightly less than he had before, he also was no longer commuting into a job, and the lifestyle advantages of that more than made up for the 7-8% salary haircut that he took. Also, his benefits from his redundancy package bridged him most of the way to when his new benefits kicked in, so he was never out of pocket for dentistry or anything like that.
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  21. Unfortunately Incontinence issues can happen at any age, when out and about I would recommend you try a premium taped diaper like Betterdry or other premium diapers that you can trust. Thicker diapers are less noticeable then wet pants and you will be way less stressed when you don't have to worry your diaper will leak due to being low capacity diaper like depends. Phantom pee feelings subside over time, I went through them years ago when my OaB first started to act up i think it took a year for it to settle down but even now I get the occasional phantom pee feelings. Knowing you are protected and you dont have to race to the bathroom and not make it when out and about is worth wearing a premium diaper, I gave up trying to make it to the bathroom years ago as it was more not making it then making it in time. I simply use my diaper to pee on the occasion I actually feel the need most times my bladder simply releases. Depending on your situation Ie number of times you need to pee and your hold time between felling the need to actually peeing you may decide to simply use your diaper as its less stressful and less embarrassing when you dont make it.
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  22. Scene #46 Know what Mary needs? A reminder. She always says I need reminder and generally starts a whole lot of sentences with “what you need is...” And we all know how she finishes those sentences. Well, nerts to that. Mary needs a reminder of the pre-we’re-gonna-ageplay-and-not-acknowledge-it-for-two-years me. Which is to say a reminder that I’m not just adorable, as the whole damn world likes to remind me constantly, but hot AF. Not movie-star-hot-AF, but in a realistic lesbian-next-door kinda way. Now, I was hoping I wouldn’t hafta spell it out for Mary. My objective was for her to just see me and remember, ‘o yeah, she’s a sexy little minx, too.’ I started out slow: I did yoga in the living room. Or more precisely, I watched tv and waited until I heard Mary’s office door open and then quickly turned on a yoga video and got on all fours. Congenitally short hamstrings may be the curse of the Cranes, and sure, I nearly snapped myself in two, but I did one heck of a downward dog, butt up and pointed at her. She’s a butt woman, as if that’s a surprise. Ooh, yeah, did it catch her attention. “You better not be practicing yoga without a license,” she said with all the authority of one of those Department of Yoga inspectors in the porno I just made up in my head. “So what if I am,” I said while doing my very best to not pass out. “You’ll have to be punished.” Well, I wasn’t really going for a spanking. I was hoping for some afternoon delight. Beggars can be choosy if they wanna be, but I didn’t wanna at just that moment, and a butt whoopin is a good lead in to other stuff. “I ought to paddle that little butt of yours just the way you are,” Mary said, “but little girls like you get their bare bottom spankings over the knee. Up,” she ordered. “Mary...” “1... 2....” “Help please ... I’m stuck ... It hurts.” “O!” And she helped me up. Which I appreciated because if she hadn’t I think I would’ve had to just flop over like a cow being tipped. “You okay?” “Ow,” I said while rubbing my thighs and being inadvertently adorable. “Poor baby ...” She got that funny look on her face. “That’s why you need a license.” “Har har.” “Just too adorable when you’re all pouty.” Dammit! “I am not too adorable. You’re too susceptible to adorability.” “Aww. See?” “(Marge Simpson Grumble).” To add insult to injury, after we had lunch together - a meal in which neither of us was on the menu - she took me upstairs (hopes rising!) and put a diaper on me (hopes smashed!) in case, she said like a pretext-finding so-and-so, my poor strained hamstrings made it hard to get to the potty in time. I had to abandon my efforts for the day and regroup the next. In our house, we take several things very seriously, to wit: open and honest communication, discipline, our marriage vows, social distancing, cleaning our toys, grilled cheese sandwiches, and Halloween. Just because you only wear a costume once doesn’t mean you shouldn’t spend a lot of money on it so you can win the costume contest at the kinky trunk or treat (tagline: put a little junk in your trunk. Which is sorta backwards and a misnomer because it’s not in a parking lot. Hmm). I announced I was going to clean the basement, and I set out to sort through our costumes and see if I couldn’t find anything to remind Mary of my many wonderful physical qualities other than cuteness. Now, Halloween is always kinda a blur for me. I chalk it up to general excitement and the sense of wonder I’ve bravely maintained in this hard world of ours; Mary chalks it up to me eating too many peanut butter pumpkins and getting too wound up. In my defense, it’s a play party with candy - I’m supposed to get wound up. How else would I earn so many public spankings in one evening? Not the restroom or dressing room kind, but the legit over-the-knee-on-the-nearest-chair kind, a.k.a. the real kind we’re not allowed to do anywhere else. Perhaps it's the flood of endorphins and nearly desperate arousal by the time we get home makes it hard for me to preserve the details. I say all this by way of saying our costumes had a certain theme to them. In Mary’s box, there was Sexy Librarian; Sexy Gym Teacher; Sexy Army Officer; Sexy School Principal; and Sexy Boss. In my box, there was Sexy Cheerleader; Sexy Soccer Player; Sexy Teddy Bear; Sexy Snow White; Sexy Kitten; and my personal favorite, Sexy Person Who Forgot to Wear Pants. So if I had to sum up Mary’s box, I’d call it the Sexy Authority Figure Collection. If I had to sum up my own box, I’d call it the Lemme Throw a Little At Ya Collection. But anyhoo, I started with my favorite, which was really just a pair of satin panties so I could go pantsless without inviting the whole world to see my parts. I squeezed my cheeks into those panties and sashayed upstairs. Mary’s exact words upon seeing me were, “Ha! You look like a toddler who got dressed on her own.” Well, crap. I beat a hasty retreat before she could "help" me get dressed. My box wasn’t so helpful in my endeavor to be seen as sexy and not cute after all, upon further examination. Teddy bear ears or kitty cat ears would only get me called adorable. Soccer player it is. Mary’s reaction: “Don’t kick the ball against the house,” before she disappeared into her office. So I went outside and kicked it against the fence in frustration, which led to, “Daffy! What on earth...” “Sorry, Nana. Just playing soccer by myself.” “I didn’t know ...” she said as she came through the fence, and then she saw the outfit before I could yell for her not to. Funny that she’s seen me in a diaper, and seen me naked with a diaper under me, and she’s seen me in panties, and she’s seen my bare red butt, but it was the super-short shorts and strapless “bra” paired with knee socks and soccer cleats that finally made her blush and pivot on her heel and go back to her yard. “Sorry,” I said with eyes squinched. “No,” she laughed nervously. “I should’ve knocked.” There was an awkward pause before she asked, “You really play soccer in that? Don’t you get, um, grass stains?” “It’s an old Halloween costume.” “O. Guess you got all the candy bars that year.” “Hahahaha! No, it was for a party with, uh, people like us. I put it on to remind Mary.” “That Halloween comes earlier every year?” “That I’m hot and sexy and not just adorable. I think she’s forgetting. Or not forgetting. Just not the most immediate way she sees me these days.” “And what way do you think that is?” “As cute as a mini-muffin. Just want to remind her I’m still the woman she married. Complex. Employable. Not a little girl.” “I think she does.” “She had better. This bra is super uncomfortable.” Like, seriously, it was separating my ribs. My small talk with Nana didn’t last long. I headed inside and waited for my wife to find me again. Once more, I didn’t wait long and didn’t get the reaction I’d hoped for. First, Mary seemed to consciously overlook me. I guess she was coming up with a reaction she could turn to her advantage. “Daphne Ann,” Mary said to me faux seriously as she sat down on the sofa beside me. “Yep,” I said while trying (and I guess failing) to make lust eyes at her. Mary makes great lust eyes. I can manage them better when I’m tipsy, but when I’m sober I just look like my allergies are acting up. “Your coach called.” O, come on. I wasn’t looking to roleplay. “No she didn’t.” “I’m afraid she did.” “I don’t have a coach. It’s a Halloween costume. Look - they don’t let you play soccer with your junk halfway out,” I said, trying to redirect her attention. “That’s what your coach wanted to talk about.” “There is no coach.” “Also, your coach wanted to talk about your disrespectful attitude toward your coach’s existence.” Ooh, she is at least as much a smartass as I am, but I’m the only one who gets spanked for it. “Fine. I’ll apologize to my ‘coach’ the next time I see her. Can we please focus on the matter at hand,” I asked as I moved my hand to, well, a place on Mary. “And the larger issue,” she said as she took my hand and put it back in my own lap, “is your coach tells me you’re something of a ball hog.” “I don’t even like balls!” Well, that at least made her laugh. And then she put that fake serious face back on. “There is no ‘I’ in ‘team’ in our house.” “There’s no ‘Q’ in ‘barbecue’ either. Hmmmph.” I don’t even know what that means, but I said it and folded my arms in a pouty way that didn’t at all help steer the conversation back to my womanly virtues. I have feminine wiles, dammit! See my wiles! “I’m going to have to teach you a lesson about team work, Daphne.” “Well, how ya gonna teach me that lesson?” If only I could get her to spank alternative yet very spankable parts, I could still turn this boat around. Been a while since she spanked that part of me, and I think my alleged misbehavior called for it, if that’s what it came to. “If you’re not mature enough to pass the ball, then you must not be a big girl.” “Iamtooabiggirl!” I’ll spare you the rest except to say I added some choice words about the coach and the sport of soccer and pay equity in the American soccer system, all of which just got the pacifier added to the diaper I had to wear until I ‘learned to play like a big girl.’ That had me freaked out until I learned that my learning period was only until bed time. Phew! I was worried it would be much longer. Mary forced my hand. I don’t like to go all nuclear, but she didn’t leave me any choice. No more pretense. No more games. I didn’t wanna do it. Lord knows the last time I did it I ended up with bruises. But, dammit, I’m a big girl. I can handle bruises. I had to put on The Outfit. The outfit I was wearing the day we met. The one that made her reach out and yank me over her knee. Granted it was a spanking party and I was letting my butt get passed around; but Mary saw me, reached out, practically pulled me off my feet and over her lap, and just held me there. “Hi,” she said to me with her chin in her hand and her elbow between my shoulder blades like she was just resting it there. “Hi,” I meeped. I wasn’t nearly as smitten as she was. I was mostly intimidated. “I’m Daphne.” “I’m Mary. What’s your middle name?” “Ann.” “Well, Daphne Ann, what naughtiness brings you here?” She gave me a spank. A get-to-know-you-spank, not too hard and not too soft. “I’m not naughty. I’m here because I was so very good.” “Fibber. You know what fibbers get?” “I’ll know if you show me.” So she did. She was supposed to save some of my butt for the other guests, but I guess she liked it a lot or something because she just kept spanking away at it, and I just let her. I was impressed with her hand; she was impressed with my butt. “Yow,” I said all kittenishlly when she finished up. “You’re good at that.” “I know,” she said, and I thought to myself, of course she knows! She’s so damn confident! And she put her elbow back and put her chin back in her hand and just looked at me as I twisted my head around so I could look back at her. “Um,” I said nervously, “can I get up now?” “No.” “No?!?” “I don’t wanna share you.” “But sharing is caring,” I said because I’m so fucking terrible at flirting. “I’ll let you up if you hang out with me.” “Ummm ... Mmmkay.” “Can I flip you over?” “I dunno. Can you,” I asked sincerely. “Whoa! Ha! Guess so.” I was then sitting on her lap, and she was looking at me with that look of hers, the one that uses to make me into a babbling doofus but that I’ve since built up complete immunity to (really!). “Um, thanks for spanking me? ... What?” “I was just thinking.” “About what?” “About what my chances are if I ask you out.” “O. Well, I think you’ll get a yes.” “That’s very reassuring.” Honestly, I thought she was being kinda weird in a creepy way, but also in a way that was sorta a turn on. “You’re staring,” I said to her. “I see someone pretty, and I think I wanna get to know her.” “Ha!” Okay, I’m a sucker for flattery and dominant women. Plus she’d done a really good job on my butt, and while I wasn’t sure how interested I was, I was interested in a date for sure. Even if it just turned into a play partner relationship, her hand was super compatible with my ass. So the day after the soccer fiasco, I put on The Outfit: white camisole, white panties, white ankle socks. I texted her: Are you busy? Nope. What’s up? And instead of answering, I strolled into her office, grinned at her, gave her a ‘your move’ head tilt, and waited. She took a deep breath, let it out in a sigh, spun back toward her monitor, closed her laptop with a satisfying clap, spun back toward me, stood up, grabbed me by the wrist, and yanked me toward her for a kiss that made me get light headed (hypoxia will do that to you). After, as I was rubbing my shoulder wondering if I’d have a bruise from where she pushed me down before climbing on top of me, I asked her straight up: “Am I a big girl?” “You’re all woman, Daffy.” “Damn skippy ... Why do you like me in that outfit so much.” “Because it makes you look like something you’re not: Innocent as a lost little lamb.” “I am too innocent!” “Fibber. You know what fibbers get?” “I will if you show me.” Maybe I’m not such an innocent lamb, but Mary, no mistake, is a wolf. She just can’t help but chase after little ol’ me.
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  23. Well the only people who know are my wife and our therapist. I was terrified to tell my wife, but felt horrible not being honest with her. She has been so supportive and now couldn’t imagine living without little me. I’ve talked to a few people who lost their marriage, so being upfront is important in any relationship; otherwise it just feels like a trap for some. I came to my AB after we met through circumstance, and hid it for awhile. Her telling our therapist was just as nerve wracking, but she wasn’t sure how she felt and needed to discuss it with someone, so I gave her the go ahead (she would never share that without asking if it was ok). I was sure she would think I was sick in the head lol but she was also super supportive, and told my wife that if she was open to it to try it out before deciding how she felt. We haven’t told anyone else. It’s not that we’re hiding it, it’s just no one’s business. And to answer your question in a round about way, I don’t think I could be as happy as I am without support from those two. That’s just me, but I had a lot of “is there something wrong with me” when this first began, so having someone love me and tell me it’s okay. PS there’s nothing wrong with you ❤️ that voice does nothing but hurt you
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  24. I see one of my diapers!
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  25. I agree, But one warning if he really has a passion to do certain pleasures, sneaking around to do them can and (if they are together enough yrs), will catch up and she will find out. I am speaking from experience . I have been married over 25 yrs, and I kept my fetishes from my wife for around 15 yrs. I started feeling that she knew that I was cheating. ( enjoying sexual diapers, without her ) I was doing my pleasures mostly when I got home from work. She worked an hr and a half later than me. It really started to work one my mind making me feel like I was cheating on her. I did the stupid thing and told her about my fetish's( she knew something was up, her imagination was worse than what I was doing) and we are still married, because she is a wonderful woman. But there are daily moments that are rough. She is accepting somewhat of my diapers to a point But it took a lot of yrs, and give and take. Most of the give was on her side. She had to give up sex, because of cancer, 10 yrs ago, so that meant so did I, and I think she feels guilty about it, and that has lessened the problems with her accepting my diaper fetish's . Love can be more important than sexual relations , But it won't make it any easier. And now age has made it so that I have needed diapers for a part of those yrs for what I call old man dribbles.
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  26. Chapter 23: I must have damn near knocked out all my teeth, my jaw dropped so low by the sight that greeted me once the door swung open. Gone was my gigantic dresser, which before had housed my adult wardrobe and later most of my diaper supplies and several pieces of clothing and accessories. In its place was now a massive white changing table, almost double the length of the original dresser and just a bit above belly button height. Several shelves were built into the table underneath and here I spotted several packs of unopened diaper, some unpacked and laying on full display for easy access, underneath all my plastic pants was also stacked and laid out on full display next to several packs of extra stuffers for my diaper and of course several bottles of powder, oil and packs upon packs of wet wipes. On top of the table top itself, a large light blue changing pad covered the whole table top, which as far as I could see from my current vantage point, was covered in a plastic material and decorated with several cartoon racecars at which point I also noticed the table itself having a racing theme, with a thick baby blue race stripe running down the entire length of the side, with the numbers 1 and 2 (very clever) painted at each end of the table. I also spotted my diaper pail having been moved from the bathroom and had now found its new place at the far end of the changing table, where it logically belonged. The last and final detail I noticed were the huge light blue stick-on letters placed on the wall above the table, which seemed to continue the ongoing theme, spelling out P-I-T-Z-O-N-E (once again, very clever). My eyes continued to wander across the huge monstrosity and all its features, which seemed to magically have replaced my dresser in the short span of one afternoon. “Oh, Rob. It’s PERFECT!” Mom’s voice blasted into my eardrums and echoed through the house, which brought me out of my shocked trance, which was followed by the sound of fabric and light metal hitting the wooden floor. Mom had used the opportunity to unsnap the suspenders of my shortalls resulting in them dropping freely to floor, leaving me in only my onesie and filled diaper which was screaming for a change. I was still partially in shock, as I once again felt Mom’s hand locked around my wrist and dragging me towards my new bedroom furniture. “Come on, Baby. Let’s try it out and get you out of that nasty old diaper.” She lead me towards the bottom end of the table and placed one hand under each of my armpits. “Up, you go.” As Mom raised her hands I reacted on instinct putting both hands onto the table top and leapt off my feet and onto the plastic covered changing mat, hearing it crinkle underneath my weight, while also feeling the now cold mess splatter inside my diaper. Sitting on top of the table, I was just about eye level with Mom, as she placed a gentle palm on my chest instructing me to lay back down, resulting in the changing pad crinkling underneath my body. The length of the table allowed for everything from my knees and down to hang over the edge and left room for Mom to position herself right between my thighs as she popped open the snaps of my onesie and started the process of changing me into a fresh diaper. I could fear and hear the tapes being ripped open, the cold air hit my skin as the dirty diaper was peeled of my person and disposed of, as I heard the lit of the pail open and slam shut. I’m sure several wipes were used to clean me from the terrible mess that I had done to myself, which I’m sure was followed my first a thick layer of baby oil and then powder, before my bum was once again raised ever to slightly off the crinkly plastic padding and placed gently onto a fresh new diaper, which was soon taped securely around my waist, before my onesie was once again pulled down between my thighs and locked in place by 4 quick snaps. Truth be told, I’m only speculating when describing that scene and my first change on my new changing table. I really didn’t observe much of anything at the particular point. My mind had gone completely blank, I’m still locked in almost a state of shock, trying to come to terms with this new massive furniture that had made its entrance and taken its spot in my bedroom. My eyes flicked from side to side, running up and down the baby blue racecar decorated changing pad, that I was now laying on, before shifting to the huge PIT ZONE sticker that had been planted on the wall just above the table. I wasn’t much of a racecar fan myself, but I’m guessing all boys at some point or another in their early years have been fascinated by the loud engines and fast moving object. I concluded that Uncle Rob must have put it all together while we were out and if he had also been in charge of the theme and decoration, then I would have to applaud him for a well-executed theme and decor. All clean and ready to go, I was once again guided by both wrist and helped off the table, only wearing my onesie I followed Mom out the bedroom and back to the kitchen, where Karen and Rob were both seated at the table, Rob still nursing his beer and Karen with a clear glass of water in her hand, while Jack was sound asleep in his stroller, which had been moved inside. “It’s just PERFECT, Rob. Thank you!” Mom swiftly moved in to give Rob a thankful hug. “Don’t mention it, it was fairly easy and I actually enjoyed decorating it.” Rob hugged her back, before their quick embrace ended and Mom turned to face. “Patrick, go say thank you, to your Uncle Rob for your nice changing table.” I hadn’t realized until then, that I was standing in front of Karen and Rob, in just my thick diaper and a onesie. Karen I didn’t mind as much, but I still kind of wanted Rob to see me as a guy on his level. So without making much eye contact I slowly wandered over and managed to muster a faint “Thank you, Uncle Rob.” Which he responded to by ruffing up my hair and a with a quick “Don’t mention it, Kiddo.” Before finishing the last sip of his beer and turning to Karen. “Time to get going?” Karen nodded in agreement, before getting up from her seat, hugging my Mom goodbye while thanking her for a wonderful day and making sure to give me a quick kiss on the check, while giving my diapered butt a quick pat, before following behind Rob who was already wheeling the stroller with Jack out the door and into the driveway. My Aunt made sure to shut the door behind her and soon after we heard both engines of their cars fire up and drive off. Mom mad herself a cup of coffee, before starting the process of making dinner. I was still at a loss for words and made my exit to go watch some TV, still finding the whole situation unreal and not really paying attention at all. My head was spinning at such a rapid pace trying to come to terms with the fact that my dresser which once contained all my designer jeans, t-shirt, jogger and most importantly underpants had now been replaced with a racecar themed changing table stocked to the brim with diaper, stuffers, plastic pants and changing supplies. I was so busy trying to wrap my head around the whole ordeal, that once dinner was ready and I took my seat at the table, I didn’t even care to notice the fact that more at some point before serving me my bowl of mush, swiftly moved up behind me and tied a new clean bib around my neck to be worn while eating. I can’t tell you if the bib was needed or not, it may have been because I spent the next 20 minutes just mindlessly shoveling food into my mouth, only stopping to wash it down with huge sips of milk, while staring into thin air with a blank expression and glazed over eyes. The night passed uneventful as I sat on my designated spot on the floor, while Mom switched between channels eventually settling on a movie, that I paid little to no attention to. As it ended I once again found myself being lead back to my bedroom and helped onto my new changing spot, as Mom quickly went through the process of changing me out of a diaper which had gradually been turning wetter and wetter since I was changed into it earlier and into a new nighttime diaper, accompanied by a fresh white onesie with baby blue edges and covered in little bears wearing nightgowns and caps. My eyes once again flickered to the lettering on the wall, as I heard the first snap of my onesie being closed and finally opened my mouth too speak. “Mom….” “Yes, Baby.” Her reply was calm, as she popped another button closed. “Don’t you. Don’t you think the changing table is a little much? Like do we really need it, I’m going to be out of diapers again soon, remember?” She smiled, closing up another snap. “Oh, Baby. You don’t have to worry about that. First of all, with all the diapers you’re going through and as a result all the diapers I’m changing. Not having to bend over to change you on the bed or on the floor, is really going to help save both my back and knee’s and is surely going to save us a hell of a lot of trips to the chiropractor.” The last part of her answer, was followed by a quick laugh, before continuing. “And out of diapers, soon? Remember the plan was for you to pottytrain alongside your Cousin and document the process and experiences that he may be going through. And, Honey. Sorry to say it, but Jack isn’t ready for potty training in the near future. So this thing isn’t such a bad investment.” Closing up the last button, she took a light hold of both my wrists and helped me back up to a seated position on the table, letting us come eye to eye. “And I’ll tell you something. When you do return to using the potty and gets out of diapers. This thing isn’t going to waste. You see, we got it from a company called Cribs to College. When needed the whole thing can be converted into a regular dresser and used to store your wardrobe once again. They got a while line of furniture just like it. Pretty smart isn’t it.” She let hand run down me cheek, as I responded with a faint “I guess.” I was then instructed to jump off the table, as Mom pulled the covers of my bed to the side, instructing me to lay down, before tucking me in, making sure the sheets were nice and tight around me, before producing a fresh new pacifier from her back pocket. “Don’t you worry about a thing, Baby. Everything I do, I only do because I care about you. When this is all over, everything can go back to normal if you want it to.” I parted my lips, allowing Mom to slide the dummy into my mouth, as instincts took over and I started sucking away at my comforter, look up at Mom with a trusting stare. “Good boy. Sleep tight.” She planted one last kiss on my forehead, before getting off the bed and leaving the room, shutting the door behind her. Laying in the dark with my binky bobbing up and down in my mouth, I could still see the faint outline of the changing table at the end of my bed and allowing my eyes to pan across the room could also conclude that the new stickers on my wall, had a faint glow in the dark effect to them, gently bathing the room in a light blue glare, which seemed to calm me down, as my eyes quickly started getting heavy and soon closed shut.
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  27. there are a few people that know about our ABDL lifestyle. but due to circumstances it is basically one and it's really not my place to say anything about them. I can tell you that my wife went through a few break up before meeting me because of her ABDL side and I was the first person to accept her. basically two years into being her caregiver I kind of broke down and said I want to be a ABDL to.which to be honest made her have to sit down for a little bit cuz she was so excited/happy and ever since then we've basically bin one big diapered family.
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  28. I live out in the woods in a very rural area. I have no desire to run around in my diapers. I'm an adult with a bladder problem. We all have different views on this...
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  29. I was pretty sure I had everything I needed for school. The bus would be stopping at the corner in the next ten minutes, but Debbie was still working on my note for my two absences. How hard was it to say I was sick? From the looks of it, Debbie was writing my biography. When she finished, she folded it up and sealed it up in an envelope. I frowned as I held the envelope in my hand that prevented me from reading what she had written. I watched as she took out a new piece of paper, wrote a couple sentences and handed it to me. This I could read. To Whom it May Concern: Please excuse Eliza Anne Thompson’s absences on Monday, October 5th and Tuesday, October 6th. She was sick and in my care. -Debrah Martnif “That one goes to the office, or whoever keeps track of attendance, and the other one goes to the school nurse.” She explained. I looked at the sealed envelope that said Chastity Reynolds. “You know the school nurse by name?” I asked. “She’s a friend of mine from church. You do go to Woodhill Jr. High, don’t you?” “Yeah, I’ve just never had to see the nurse before. I’ve only been going there for three months. Why am I giving a note to the nurse though?” I asked. I’ve never had to give anyone a note to anyone but the front office before for being sick. “I explained that you’re staying with me, and that if you came in sick and needed to come home, it’s me who needs to be called and not your parents.” “Oh, okay.” That made sense. “I also explained the kind of medication you’re on and that you need a special pass for the restroom.” I felt my face heat up. Now that I was well again, I was horrified that I had been in diapers the last couple of days. Okay, so that one night may have been necessary, but I totally could have gotten up and used the bathroom on the second...every ten minutes… while in excruciating pain... or maybe not. I picked up my backpack and water bottle off the counter and headed out the door. Debbie had tried to get me to wear James’s old pull ups and I had adamantly refused. If I was getting a special pass to use the restroom during class, I saw no reason I couldn’t make it. Sure it felt like my bladder filled up to the brim every 30 minutes, and my muscles were less than helpful recently, but that was no excuse to send a 12 year old to school in a diaper. I had to change in front of other girls for P. E. and oh crap. I forgot about P.E. I debated whether or not to run back to Debbie’s and get a note excusing me from participating, but I knew the bus would be here any minute. Sure enough, I could see it coming around the corner. Oh well, I’d deal with it later. Once aboard I sat down in an empty seat and put my headphones in. I bounced my knee to the beat of the song and contemplated what I should do about James’s situation. Was he really serious about not needing any of the stuff? Was Debbie going overboard with his treatment? I’m sure she thought she was just doing what was best for him. I was no doctor so his medical needs were far beyond anything I could ever hope to understand. What about his warning though? He had told me everything was a lie and hadn’t I witnessed this first hand? Debbie said I had been dreaming about overhearing her talking to my parents and she was so convincing I was beginning to believe it myself. I had been in and out all day that day. It was possible I had dreamed it. That comment she had made though about the antifreeze. It had taken me so off guard I had been left speechless. When she had turned around and saw the look on my face she had burst out laughing. She had tried to assure me over and over it had just been a joke, but I was on edge about accepting anything to eat or drink from her. The tap water never did have a funny taste after that first day though. Maybe it had been just from being sick? Nothing ever tasted right when you were sick. Try as I might I just couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of her poisoning us. She seemed so genuinely concerned about my well being. As I walked up to the school I knew I had to at least tell an adult my suspicions, even if it didn’t seem likely. James had reached out to me after all. Just because I didn’t fully understand what was going on, maybe someone else would. I owed him to at least try. After standing in line at the attendance office and handing them my note, they wrote me a pass to return to class. After that I went directly into the office, but was stopped by a bald guy with a whistle around his neck. Ugh, it was the P.e. coach. “What are you doing in here?” he demanded. “I need to see the nurse.” I had just seen an older lady enter the nurses offices and had assumed that was her. “About what?” I scrunched up my face and bit my tongue. “I need to give her a note.” “Well, students aren’t allowed back here. Give it to me and I’ll make sure she gets it.” He went to grab the envelope out of my hand, but I pulled it back. “No, it’s personal.” “It’s okay, Bruce, I’m back here, let her in.” a voice called from back. “I was expecting her.” The beefy armed man jabbed his thumb towards the back and stepped aside. I hurried past before he changed his mind and opened the door to the nurse’s office. A grey haired woman was sitting at a desk typing something into the computer. “You must be, Eliza, Debrah texted me that you would be stopping by.” she said. “Have a seat and i’ll be with you in just a moment.” I sat in the plastic chair and waited for her to finish typing. Once she was done she rolled over to where I was sitting. “Good morning, what can I do for you?” I handed her the envelope. She opened it and read the contents. “Oh, you poor thing. Ohh, you haven’t had a fun week so far.” I shook my head. “Yes, those will do that, not fun. Let me get you a hall pass for class. Just show it to your teachers, and they shouldn’t ask you any questions if you need to leave.” I watched as she filled out an orange slip of paper and handed it to me. This student has permission to leave class at any time due to medical reasons. “Now I better not hear stories of you abusing this. That pass is so you can have quick access to the restroom, or if for whatever reason, you need to come see me. She said they were in your backpack so let’s take a look.” She opened my backpack and my mouth fell open. I hadn’t put those in there so that only left Debbie… Why? “The note said you were refusing to wear them, and that’s fine if you think you can go without, but I’m warning you, if you do end up having an accident you will have to wear them. Are you sure you don’t want one now?” I shook my head. I was sure. I wasn’t going to need them. I was still shocked Debbie had snuck diapers in my backpack in the first place. I had stuck a period pad on just to be safe. I had no idea if those absorbed urine, but it was better than nothing. As long as nothing set off my allergies and made me start sneezing and coughing I should be fine. Yesterday I had sneezed and left a dime size wet patch on the couch. “Is there anything else I can do for you?” “Well,” I said looking away. I didn’t know how to phrase this. I didn’t want to outright accuse Debbie of anything, especially if it really was my imagination. “I sort of have a question…” “Yes, go ahead.” “Say, hypothetically speaking, if I thought someone was hurting me and someone else. What should I do?” The school nurse stared at me a moment. “I think you need to tell someone.” “Even if it wasn’t very likely and I’d get in trouble?” “Reports can be made anonymously. Are you in danger? Is someone hurting you? Your parents?” She eyed me through her glasses and I shifted uncomfortably under her gaze. “No, not my parents. Well, ever since i’ve been at Debbie’s I’ve gotten sick. My sister’s okay, but Jame’s said we’re in danger and-” “Honey, I’ve met James, he hasn’t been able to speak in the last year.” I shook my head. “He said his mom is lying about that. I’ve seen him move around as well, even though she said he couldn’t.” “So what makes you think she’s hurting either of you? So maybe he can move a little, but Debbie doesn’t want him too because he might get hurt?” I didn’t have an answer for that. “James is very sick, honey. I can guarantee Debbie isn’t doing anything to hurt him.” “I saw her drug him.” “She was just giving him his pain medication. Debbie loves him very much, and James is very sick. The doctors have already said there’s nothing more they can do for him but make his last days as comfortable as possible.” My eyes were beginning to water. Was James really going to die? “Okay,” I mumbled. “I’m sure Debbie would appreciate you being concerned for her son's well being, but I can assure you he’s in good hands. Now is there anything else I can do for you before sending you off to class?” I shook my head and grabbed my backpack. “If you need anything, don’t be afraid to ask. My door is always open.” I thanked her and left. The thought that Debbie was poisoning us seemed more and more silly the longer I thought about it. Of course no one would want him crawling about if there was a good possibility he could get hurt. Maybe he was just paranoid and it was rubbing off on me? Either way, I did what I could and told someone my suspicions as cringe worthy as they may be. The day went on with no major hiccups, other than the piles of homework I was collecting from the days I had missed. Health class wanted a 1,500 word essay on the cardiovascular system, I had three worksheets on finding the area of 3d shapes in math, and English wanted me to catch up on all the chapters of To Kill a Mockingbird I had missed. Those were just half my classes. I still had to stop by my science and geography classes at some point. I’d do that after lunch. I nearly collapsed at the lunch table I shared with a group of girls I hung out with. “Look who finally came to school!” Katie said. “We were starting to think you stowed away in your parents suitcase or something.” “I wish.” I groaned. The day was only half over and I wanted nothing more than to curl up in bed. I was starting to feel shaky on my feet. The special bathroom pass had been a god send. One minute I would be fine and the next I would be dancing in my seat. My bladder seemed to fill at five times the speed as normal, but my bladder itself felt five times weaker. My last class I had to just walk out since I couldn’t seem to get my teacher's attention. I wasn’t in danger of having an accident until I had gotten inside a stall. My brain seemed to feel that it was close enough before giving the signal to open the gates. If I hadn’t been wearing that pad I would have had to do the walk of shame to the nurse’s office. I rolled it up in toilet paper and tossed it in the feminine hygiene products container in my stall. My pants were a little damp after that fiasco, but it wasn’t noticeable. I figured they would dry out before the day was over. “What happened? Were you sick?” Vicks asked. Her parents had the unfortunate timing of naming her Karen, so we as a group just called her by her last name. She seemed to appreciate this. It wasn’t her parents fault. How were they to know we would turn the name into a representation of every overly entitled American female. “Sicker than I had ever been in my life.” I admitted. I gave them all the juicy details and they all took turns thanking me for ruining their appetite. I looked in my lunchbox to see what was there and frowned. Apple slices, baby carrots, and a salad. Where was all the good stuff? I sighed before taking the salad out and poking at it a bit. I don’t know how vegetarians live off this stuff. It tasted like Debbie had gone out back and plucked the nearest handful of vegetation she could find before throwing it in a tupperware container. After choking down a few bites I moved on to the apple slices. I wasn’t that hungry anyway. I still didn’t trust my stomach. It had been fine the last two days, but I wasn’t in such a forgiving mood quite yet after that “pizza party” I had thrown. It had been like the 4th of July and I had been a double ended Roman Candle. I feared I was a walking bomb just waiting for something to light the fuse. I noticed Katie squeezing something blue in her water. “What’s that?” “Water flavoring, you want some?” I nodded eagerly. Debbie had been pushing water on me non-stop, and I was dying for something with taste. I handed her my giant hydro flask and she squirted a few pumps in. After having nothing but tap water it tasted like heaven. “What is it? It's good.” “Mio blueberry lemonade. I have a bunch of others at home. You can have it if you want, I'm not big on that flavor.” “I love you,” I said to Katie as I cradled the little silver squirt bottle in my hands. I put it in my lunchbox where it would be safe and sound. When P.e. came around, my last period of the day, I went to the nurse’s office instead. “Eliza, what can I do for you?” She looked me over and lowered her voice. “Did you have an accident?” “N-no!” I almost yelled. “My next class is P.E. but I can barely stand on my feet. Can I lay down until the bus comes? I'm feeling a little shaky.” In truth I was feeling a little more than shaky. My heart was hammering by the time I got here, and I had leaked from the physical strain. I had almost gotten my underwear dry too, dammit. Some of it had even gone down my leg before being absorbed by my pant leg. “Hmm, you do look pale. Are you running a fever?” I shook my head, but she took my temperature anyway. “No fever.” I was really going to pass out if she didn’t let me lie down soon. I was breathing heavy now and gripping onto the sides of my chair for support. “You’re sweating.” “Please let me lie down, I don’t feel well.” I blurted out. “Of course,” she said. I stood up, but my blood pressure dropped, making my vision go hazy. I stumbled to the ground, landing in a piled heap on the floor. “Eliza!” she called. I rested my head against my arms as I waited for the room to stop spinning. “Eliza, are you okay?” She knelt down next to me and rested a hand on my back. “You’re shaking.” “I’ll be fine in a minute.” I could feel my center of gravity beginning to return as my stomach righted itself. I ever so slowly sat myself up with her help. “Sorry, I'm still a little weak from whatever I had. I just want to lay down for a bit.” “That’s fine, but before you do…” She said, before dropping her voice down to a whisper. “You need to get cleaned up first.” I looked down only to realize I was sitting in a puddle of my own creation. I moaned and buried my face in my hands. “It’s okay, there’s a bathroom right there. I’ll give you a washcloth and I’ll see if I can find any pants in the lost and found. I doubted kids were losing their pants, but sure enough she came back with a pair of PE shorts. She held my hand as I stood up. I tried not to focus on the sound of urine dripping on the floor as my bladder decided, “what the hell” as I stood up. I didn’t think my face could turn a darker shade of red. I wanted to rush for the bathroom, but she held me in place for what I could only assume was an attempt to keep me from making a larger mess. The hissing sound lasted a couple seconds, but that was all it took for any ounce of dignity I had left to go flying out the window. I did my best to hold back a sob that wanted to escape my throat, and I had almost managed to do so until Vicks showed up looking for a band-aid. Her eyes widened and her mouth dropped open in surprise. I was the tough one in the group and the one who never cried, yet there I was bawling in a puddle of my own urine. “I’ll come back later.” Vicks managed to blurt out before ducking back in the hallway. “Shh, shh. It’s okay.” the nurse said guiding me into the bathroom. “Leave the door open a few inches. I want to make sure I can get to you if you fall.” She handed me a pile of things and I took them. I slid my shoes off followed by my pants and underwear. I kicked them off into a pile as I wet the rag down in the sink, sobbing as I did so. I cleaned my lower half off as best I could before sitting on the toilet. “I really hate this medicine.” I mumbled as the rest trickled into the toilet. “What was that?” “Nothing!” I said before flushing. I reluctantly picked up the shorts knowing what was wrapped inside them. I sighed and pulled out the diaper. How did Debbie always know? I stuck my legs in the holes and pulled it up my waist before sliding the shorts on top of them. “You get everything on okay?” she asked, handing me a trash bag for my clothes. I nodded and stuffed my clothes inside before washing my hands. She had drawn the curtain around the bed before helping me lay down. I hugged myself and curled into a ball facing the wall. “What happened? Did you over do it today?” “Yeah,” I mumbled. “First half went okay, but I started getting light headed after lunch.” “You should have come and laid down sooner.” she scolded. “Do you want me to call Debbie and have her pick you up?” “No, school’s over in an hour. I’ll just lay down for a bit and take the bus home.” “Okay, but if you come back to school tomorrow I want you more prepared. This can’t happen again.” I woke up when someone else came into the room. “What in the world happened here?” A deep male voice asked. It was Mr. Philips, the school janitor. “Clean up on aisle three.” the nurse joked. “I know it’s never a good day when I hear your voice on the walkie.” I could see him through the gap in the curtain examining the puddle on the floor with his hands on his hips. “You better tell me that’s apple juice, Charity.” “Sure.” I saw him shake his head and drag the mop bucket over. “Now what are you doing to these poor children to scare them into peeing themselves? I didn’t know we offered flu shots.” Charity laughed and let out a high witch's cackle. When she stopped I heard her say in a lower voice, “got a pretty sick one in there.” Mr. Philips looked up from mopping. He made eye contact with me through the gap in the curtain and I looked away in embarrassment. “Should have stayed home another day.” Debbie didn’t seem to need an explanation when I walked in the house with my head hung low wearing different shorts than I had left with. “Rough day?” “I’m gonna go lie down.” I mumbled. It didn’t take long until I was being woken up for dinner. I poked at my food as Lily babbled to Debbie. I had taken three bites of spaghetti but even that felt heavy in my stomach. My head was pounding under the kitchen light, yet I knew I couldn’t go to bed. I was swamped with homework. I did as much as I could after dinner, but after a couple of hours I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer. In comparison to my first day back, the rest of the week went rather well, besides the two other accidents I had during gym. The pull up had absorbed them no problem without anyone being the wiser. I still felt weaker than normal, but every day I seemed to improve little by little. Things were still awkward around Vicks’, and I could tell she had told our friend group about what she saw by the way they stole glances at me during lunch. Nobody ever mentioned anything and I didn’t feel the need to explain. Whenever I made eye contact with Mr. Philips I always looked away. I felt like he was watching me for some reason. He had even tried to make small talk with me once, but I had made up some excuse and scrambled away from him. By the weekend I had managed to catch up on all the classes I had missed, and finished up the medication. I was so ready to throw these pull-ups away, despite the fact that they had saved me several times so far. I didn’t want to admit I had gone through more of them than my little sister. Lily was happy I was finally up to jumping with her on the trampoline again. She still insisted I teach her how to do a backflip. For some reason Debbie had seemed a bit cold to me. It felt like she kept sending me on pointless quests to get rid of me. She wouldn’t let me anywhere near James anymore, which led me to believe the school nurse had tipped her off. Anonymous my ass I thought sourly. By the third time Debbie had sent me into the garage to find her pink hair dryer, I knew she was making it up to get me out of the house after my homework was finished. Her mood swings were giving me a headache. She had been so kind and gentle to me while I was sick, but now that I was better, she didn’t want me around. I spent much of my time outback with Lily as I could, either jumping on the trampoline, swimming in the pool or playing under the trees the way James and I once had. Except instead of primitive natives chasing us, Lily insisted we were on our way to princes castle so she could get married. I was her bodyguard assigned to keep her safe and remind her to go potty. “Princes won’t marry a princess who smells like pee.” I reminded her. It seemed to be a good enough reason for her. This was the closest we had ever gotten her potty trained. In less than a week Debbie had gotten farther than we had in a year. By the time my parents came home she’d probably be in panties, just like Debbie had said. I didn’t want to admit it but she had probably had less accidents than I had this week. I had thought Debbie had been cold to me my first week being well, but by the second she was down right frigid. She had taken my phone away for texting while doing homework and once during dinner had accused me of being anorexic. I couldn’t keep the disbelieving look off my face as I was clearly chunky and overweight. I wasn’t anorexic, I was just picky as hell. She had even confiscated my Mio when she caught me putting it in my water bottle. “That’s pure sugar!” she yelled at me. “Are you trying to make yourself sick?” Things had grown tense and uncomfortable once again and I found myself in trouble more often than not. I came to dread when she’d hand me the phone. I wasn’t sure what she was filling my parents head with, but the only conversations I had been having with my mom was her telling me I was grounded when they got home, and to “Enjoy goofing off while you can, because it’s going to be a long time until you see the sun when we get home.” I kept telling her I had no idea what she was talking about, but that seemed to just egg her on. For the first time this week Debbie pushed James in front of the tv in the living room next to me. I noticed he looked even worse than before. I tried asking a few questions to see if he would respond with clicks of his tongue like he did before. A chill went down my back. I looked at Debbie, but she seemed clueless as to what he was doing. “James, honey, what’s the matter?” she whispered, ruffling his hair. He didn’t respond. All he kept doing over and over was knocking.
    1 point
  30. True that. The people getting upset are the one's not reading it. I tagged it just to try and be a little more respectful. While i'm definitely not setting it up as a fap fantasy, crimes against children is a sensitive topic, especially for parents. Which one was the Pariah? There was a couple you wrote that I really liked. Today was my mom’s turn to take the stand. She looked a little pale, but other than that she kept her head up high. She had wanted me to stay home for this, but there were certain things we had never talked about. I never had gotten a straight answer as to why she had taken Debbie’s word at face value and not mine. I had begged her to call the clinic Debbie had taken me to. One phone call. That’s all it would have taken for Debbie’s story to begin to unravel. My dad sat with me as we took our seats. It was the first time I had been so close to our former friends and neighbors, who wore “Free Debrah”, “Exodus 20:16” and “Proverbs 12:22” on their shirts. I looked it up on my phone the first time I had seen them, and they were scripture about “bearing false witness against your neighbor” and “God hates liars.” “Don’t pay them any mind.” My dad leaned over towards me and whispered. “Look at all the people here.” I looked to where my dad was pointing. The free Debrah lot were certainly the minority today. The only ones left at this point were the hardcore believers. When the trial had first started, they had packed the courtroom, but now as medical reports, eye witness accounts, and bank statements appeared, they began to dwindle one by one. It gave me great satisfaction to see Debbie’s smug face begin to crease as she looked for her supporters. The thing that made my blood boil wasn’t the defense trying to discredit my statement, and it wasn’t Debbie’s supporters calling me a liar as I took my seat. It was the ones who had left, more specifically what it had taken them to leave. Was it the evidence of Ethylene Glycol in my blood work? Nope. Was it the murder and attempted murder of her husband and sons? Nope, Think again. It was money. It all boiled down to money. She had been telling everyone who would listen James’s medical bills were running her to the ground. When it was revealed that the state was picking up the tab and Debbie hadn’t spent a cent of donation money towards him, that’s when shit began to hit the fan. I knew Debbie’s motivations were deeper than monetary gain. I had a suspicion money was never the driving force, but more like an added bonus. In fact, I don’t think I ever saw her ask for money despite complaining of money issues. Someone else had set up the go fund me in her name, someone else organized all the fundraisers. I think Debbie just wanted the attention, and sympathy. What no one seemed to be able to wrap their heads around was why me? Debbie had all the love, and attention and money she could get her hands on from Jame’s illness. She had spent years perfecting her story and her method. Why take such a huge risk, and a sloppy one at that, knowing my parents were coming back for me? It’s not like they wouldn’t notice I had dropped nearly 20 pounds in a month. What did she think, that they would congratulate me on my diet? A very small part of me wonders if she did it so she would get caught. Maybe she didn’t want to kill James, but knew she couldn’t stop herself? Or maybe she was just so bat shit crazy and high on getting away with it for so long she thought she was invincible. I want to believe she poisoned me because she knew I’d run and tell anyone who would listen. Unfortunately it boiled down to the fact that I was 12 with a track record for acting out and she was a beloved member of the community. Yesterday the defense tried to claim the faucet in the kitchen was full of lead, and without knowing, they had all been ingesting it for years. They explained why Debbie hadn’t gone sick, but her husband, Jackson and James had. Paul must have passed on a genetic marker that made them more susceptible to heavy metal poisoning. Since Debbie didn’t have that genetic marker, she was oblivious to the symptoms it was causing. When Mr. Montgomery questioned why then I had gotten sick so quickly, the defense stated my illness was unrelated. Angry that my family had left me, I must have decided to make myself a banana and antifreeze smoothie in an attempt to make them come back. Yummy. According to the defense, I liked the attention so damn much I did it two more times. I had to ask myself, who was on trial for munchausen again here? Because last time I checked my go to after school snack had been a Pb & J sandwich and a cup of chocolate milk, hold the engine coolant. My mom was about ready to take a swing at him. Thankfully Mr. Montgomery had a witness to dispel that theory. It was one of the nurses from the clinic Debbie kept taking me too. Debbie had made a miscalculation the first time she poisoned my water and took me in to get treated. She hadn’t expected calcium oxalate, the creator of the most common form of kidney stones, to be in my urine so fast. She had expected the doctor to give me a half assed exam given my age and lack of medical history, and write me off as another case of the flu. That’s where the nurse's testimony came in handy, and why Debbie had wanted my pee so bad the first day. She couldn’t just give her urine and say it was mine since she was diabetic. So she had helped me again and she swapped the sample when she had taken me to the bathroom. So while the test had come back normal, the nurse had mentioned to the doctor she had doubts the urine was a fresh sample. I don’t know how she knew that, I don’t go around holding cups of people’s pee all day. So instead of relying solely on that, they had ordered a blood test, but Debbie never took me to get it done. On the third and final visit, Debbie knew she fucked up. “Are you nervous?” dad asked. I nodded. I must have been one little hell raiser back then for no one to have believed me. I watched as my mom was sworn in, and the questioning began. Objections were flying left and right, and it was hard to keep track with everyone yelling at each other. Words were thrown around like “sustained” and “overruled”, and several times the judge made them rephrase their questions. I was impressed by my mom’s composure. I think it was taking all her willpower to keep it together at the underlining accusation that they put their vacation over my health. “Did Debrah tell you your daughter was sick at all while you were away?” “Yes.” “In your own words, what did she tell you?” “She told me the next day she ate a bunch of junk food, got too worked up and got sick. She made it clear it wasn’t anything serious.” “And what did your daughter tell you?” “When I talked to her a few days later she said her stomach was hurting a lot and she had been throwing up the last couple of days.” “Why a few days later? Didn’t you talk to her the day Debbie told you she was sick?” “No.” My mom admitted. “Why? Didn’t you want to make sure she was ok?” “Everytime I asked to speak with her I was told she either wasn’t there or was sleeping.” “She didn’t have a cell phone you could call?” “Debbie said she had taken her cell phone away for bad behavior.” “That didn’t raise any red flags for you?” “No.” “Why?” “Because at the time my daughter was a handful. I had told Debbie to punish her if need be. Confiscating her cellphone would have been a logical thing to do.” “So when you heard her story was quite a bit different than what you had been told, what did you do?” “I called Debbie on her cell phone.” “And what did she say?” “That Eliza had been healthy, but acting out. The same thing she told me the first time I heard she had been sick.” “And you took Debbie’s word for it, no questions asked?” “No.” I sat up surprised. I had always assumed Mom bought everything Debbie sold her. “What did you do?” “I asked to speak with my youngest daughter, Lily.” “How old was Lily at the time?” “Four.” “What did Lily tell you?” “That she was having fun.” “Did you ask about Eliza?” “I did.” “What did she say?” “I asked if Eliza had been sick and she said ‘No.’” I remembered the moment when Lily told mom I was fine. She had been sitting right next to me as I moaned in pain and threw up on myself just an hour before. With my cellphone in Debbie’s custody, it had taken all my will power and strength to get up and get the phone. It was the first time I had talked to my mom on the phone and 90% of it was her yelling at me. When I told her how sick I really was she said she would ask Debbie about it. I had never heard their conversation, but I had heard Lily’s. My own little sister had sold me out for 20 minutes on the trampoline. ……………………………………………………………………………………………………….. I was starting to suspect something wasn’t right, and I wanted to investigate. By day three I was feeling much better. I was walking around pain free, and no longer having issues with my stomach. My only complaint was my constant need to pee thanks to the medication and volume of water I had been drinking. I had only been diapered that one day so Debbie could check for stones. I knew something was wrong that first afternoon when Debbie began to pull down the front of the diaper before taping it shut again. “Lily, do you want to go jump? Go in the backyard and I’ll meet you out there in a minute after I finish with your sister.” “Jump! Jump!” Lily yelled as she bolted from the room. “Have you started your periods yet?” “Yeah.” “Are you on it now?” “No, not for another two weeks, why?” “There’s a little blood, I wasn’t sure if you were squeamish or not, that’s why we’re doing it this way. How’s your pain level?” “A six.” “Do you want to go lay down in bed? It will be easier than getting up and down off the couch.” I nodded. The aching in my body was almost unbearable. I wanted to help James, but I couldn’t do it like this. I almost didn’t care that I was 75% sure Debbie had been talking to my mom on the phone despite her telling me I must have dreamed it. “AHA!” Debbie said. She showed me something on the tip of her finger. It was so small I could barely see it, but when I focused my eyes, there was a tiny grey speck. “This was the culprit,'' she said. I took it and examined it closer. It was hard and sharp. She set it aside, “Hopefully, that was it and you’ll start feeling better now.” It hadn’t been it. My day had been spent curled in a ball in bed with the heating pad, until I had finally peed out two more. That's when things had begun to calm down. When I got up the next day, I could almost move pain free. I took another day off school just in case and spent it peeing into a strainer over the toilet. No more stones came out. Tomorrow I knew I’d be going back to school so when I wasn’t peeing my brains out, I was snooping. The problem was I had no idea what I was looking for. There were pill bottles everywhere in the kitchen, and they all said James’s name on them. I went through the cupboards, the bedrooms, the drawers, the kitchen, the fridge, the living room. I gave up. Without knowing just what I was looking for, it seemed impossible. Instead of snooping, I’d have to go straight to the source. I asked Debbie if I could watch how she took care of James. I was curious after all and I asked a lot of questions. “Can he really not eat or drink?” I asked as we went into his bedroom. I had watched her chop up what looked like ten different pills into a fine powder, mix it with a little water, and suck it up with a large syringe. “That’s right, that’s why he spends so much time here connected to this.” James was lying in bed, connected to a machine which was threaded with small tubing. I watched in interest as what looked like milk was pushed through the tubing by spinning widgets and into a separate tube coming out of the side of his chest underneath his armpit. “Since he can’t eat, this machine delivers nutrients straight into his veins. This is called a central venous catheter and this is a TPN machine. It means Total Parenteral Nutrition. Without it, he’d starve.” I was surprised when James made eye contact with me and clicked his tongue twice. I blinked. “I think he’s trying to say hello! Didn’t you guys used to make that sound a lot when you were kids? That’s so sweet! He remembers!” He clicked his tongue once more before looking away. It meant something, I knew it did, but I struggled to remember. I felt better physically, but my head was still foggy. I watched as Debbie pulled the blanket down a little more to reveal another tube coming out of his stomach. She flipped the cap open and began injecting the crushed pills inside. “What were all those for?” I asked. “Oh different things. Seizures, iron supplement, pain medication to make him more comfortable. There’s another one that helps flush his kidneys. It’s a lot I know. Can I ask you something?” I looked up surprised. “Uh, sure.” “You two used to be the best of friends. What happened?” “Oh.” I struggled to remember. “I guess we just grew apart. My idea of fun was pretty dumb and childish.” I could hear James click his tongue twice again. “One click for yes, two clicks for no, five knocks for danger!” I remembered him saying. We had had a code then. Was he using it? We locked eyes again. I had to test it out. “He’s 16 now, right?” Click. “That’s right.” “So was he born with it?” “Yeah,” Click. Click. “Unfortunately, there was no treatment at the time for his brother.” Click Click. “Random question. Do you think i’ll get sick again?” Click. “Well I hope not.” Click click. “But I really can’t say for sure. You just need to keep drinking water and flush out your system. You were probably dehydrated.” Click Click. “My someone’s talkative tonight.” She leaned down and affectionately brushed back his hair. “I had the craziest dream last night. You put James’s medicine in my water to make me sick. “ I gave a weak chuckle for show. Debbie laughed too. “Oh, sweetie, no. James’s medication is way too expensive for that. If I wanted to poison you I’d use antifreeze.” Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock. Knock.
    1 point
  31. I sat with my mom on the psychiatrist's couch unwilling to contribute. I was pissed. I didn’t want to be here. I didn’t want to ”talk about it”. That’s what was causing all the problems to begin with. I was doing fine with the medication I got from my GP. “I can see that this has caused a great strain on your relationships with authority figures, and for good reason.” He said. I shrugged my shoulders in response. “I can see your mother is concerned about your recent behavior.” If by concerned he meant her snooping through my things and confiscating the little bit of weed I could afford, then yes. She was “very concerned”. Just knowing it was there at the bottom of my sock drawer was what had kept me going, like an emergency escape button. Now that it was gone it was like I was on a runaway roller coaster with no brakes. “That defense attorney is just so, so , Argh!” said my mom. She threw up her hands in frustration. “He has the medical reports right there, but he has to go and second guess every little thing it says. ‘Maybe it was this, maybe it was that’. He even went as far as accusing Eliza of making herself sick for attention!” I clenched my fist together and jiggled my knee. I really didn’t want to talk about this. I could feel the burn in the back of my eyes. I wanted to run out the door. At least in court I had a reason to relive it. I had a goal. To see that obese cow of a woman with with her blonde hair, hideous make up and fake smile rot in prison. I needed people to see her for who she truly was. “There’s a reason people hate lawyers.” he said. “They’ll do whatever it takes to discredit witnesses and leave reasonable doubt. A good chunk of my clients have been referrals from Fred Montgomery.” “He really has gone out of his way to support her in this.” “Eliza, I've been following along with the case, and I think what you’re doing is very brave.” I shrugged again. “Not many people could keep their composure under that kind of pressure like you have.” I wanted to laugh. I wasn’t keeping my composure at all! I’ve already forced three recesses because I could no longer speak a single intelligible word through my choked sobs. The moment that bastard Raymond, the defense attorney, hinted I had done this to myself I had lost it. Some people on the internet have been saying it's a sign of a guilty conscience, but I was just so fed up and frustrated. I keep Googling the case everyday. I know it’s a stupid thing to do and it’s just causing more pain, but I need to see people’s reaction. I need to know the public's thoughts, because maybe that’s what the jury believes too. It’s still fairly split. The town I had lived in wasn’t so small where everyone knew everyone, but it seemed like everyone knew Debbie. I had become infamous and so we were forced to move. When news had first spread of Debbie’s arrest, my name hadn’t been mentioned in the press and yet somehow everyone in town knew. We’d wake up to find our house egged, the cars keyed, and hate filled letters in the mailbox. Someone had even urinated on our front door and spray painted, “LYING BITCH” in big red letters across the sidewalk. We thought it was just kids, but when my dad installed security cameras and reviewed the tapes, we were shocked to discover it was members of our own church. When we moved a few towns over, away from Debbie’s influence, things had gotten a lot better. I was no longer infamous. I was a victim. We lived in peace for three years, as I tried to move on with my life and make sense of what happened. Lily had been oblivious during our stay there. I was thankful at least Debbie hadn’t done anything past making her repeat what she had been told to say. All Lily remembered was the trampoline and the big screen TV. “Eliza, are you in there?” he asked. “Huh? Sorry, I was just thinking.” “How is school going? Your mom says your grades have been slipping.” “It’s hard to focus.” I admitted. “I keep losing track of what’s due and when.” I didn’t mind talking about school. It had nothing to do with the mess I was in. “Have you been taking your medicine at night?” “Yes.” “Have you been sleeping at night?” “Not really.” “She’s been having nightmares and wetting the bed.” My mom threw in. I glared at her. “I can try you on something to help you sleep, but if the bedwetting continues I want you to go see your GP about it. Given what you’ve gone through it might just be psychological, but it could also indicate kidney damage. How many times do you think she-” “Three times for sure.” I said cutting him off. “I was sick every other week for three days.” I didn’t want to hear the actual words. The betrayal still stung like a scraped knee to my heart even after all this time. I had trusted her, and opened up to her in ways I hadn’t with anyone else. She had been kind and gentle when I had been ill, never complaining if I had left a mess somewhere. When I was clear headed though, I could see the wheels in her head turning. Every action she made was calculated down to the very last spoken word. She was always ready with a story and a quick explanation. I had learned this the first time I had gotten sick. I knew the “what”, I just couldn’t wrap my head around the “why”. ………………………………………………………………………………………………………………. I sat huddled in a sheet in the doctor's office. Debbie had driven me to urgent care first thing in the morning as soon as she could find someone to keep an eye on the rest of the kids at home. I had stopped vomiting hours ago, but I was still very weak and shaky on my feet. I ached all over and the lights did nothing to help my agonizing headache. Nurses were coming in handing me cup after cup of water to drink. They wanted a urine sample, but my first attempt 15 minutes ago resulted in me dropping the cup of urine in the toilet when I had nearly passed out. Debbie told them she’d help me this time since I didn’t seem to have the motor skills necessary at the moment. The nurses, who seemed to be growing impatient with me, thanked her. I wanted to protest, but I was too out of it. Why did everyone want my urine lately? Was I wasting some big money making opportunity here by flushing it down? Was there a market I didn’t know about? By my fourth cup of water Debbie was leading me by the arm back into the bathroom. “Lift up your gown and spread your legs.” she ordered once I sat on the toilet. I had to clench every muscle in order to fight the reflex of going right then and there. She handed me the sterile wipe and I cleaned myself before throwing it in the trash. When she squatted down in front of me holding the cup in place I had to look away. It felt like a replay of yesterday. I tried to relax but I couldn’t. The awkwardness was only made worse by Debbie trying to hold a conversation down there. “Are you having any more hallucinations?” “No.” I mumbled. I couldn’t believe I had thought I saw a dead Jackson coming for me. Now that I was awake and feeling better, it seemed more and more like a dream. Debbie explained what sleep paralysis was, and it was far more likely my illness had brought on an episode than a dead teenager crawling on his hands and knees haunting the house. I admitted I had watched The Grudge the other night on my phone and that seemed to end that conversation. “Anything yet?” I shook my head. She got up and turned on the faucet and that seemed to do the trick. After another minute I was able to go enough for the test. Debbie’s ability to play catch seemed to have improved. After another ten minutes of sitting on the wax paper covered table the doctor came in and began asking questions. Debbie spared no details in telling the tale of how I played Picaso on her bathroom floor. She even mentioned changing diapers and waking up the whole house screaming. The doctor agreed with her theory and chalked to up to a mixture of childhood imagination and illness. He poked around my stomach and sides. I winced when he began touching my lower right side. He talked with Debbie instead of me and I grew irritated. I kept hearing the words “stones” and “crystals”. I knew he didn’t mean gemstones, but I amused myself by imagining that’s why everyone wanted my urine. I peed diamonds. By the time we left I still had no idea what was wrong. He hadn’t said a word to me, just talked medical jargon that went over my head with Debbie and handed her a prescription. “What was he saying?” I asked as we sat in the drive thru at Walgreens. “He said he found evidence of kidney stones in your urine.” “What’s that mean?” “It means you’re going to take it easy for a few days, drink lots of water, take your medicine and hope your body takes care of the rest.” I didn’t like the way she had ended that sentence. “What’s ‘the rest’?” She grimaced and flashed a sympathetic smile. It seemed my trouble was not done just yet. “The medicine should help things... come out easier.” I really didn’t like where this was going. “I’m sorry, sweetie, but you’re going to have to pee it out.” It didn’t sound that bad, until she answered my next question. “Will it hurt?” “Maybe.” That was a large red flag for “yes” Debbie handed me a large bag from the drive through window, and we headed back towards the house. I peeked inside and pulled out what looked like a funnel with mesh on the bottom. What in the hell kind of torture device was this? When we got home, I had planned on going back to sleep. I still felt like a mix between human and whatever it felt like to be a squashed dead squirrel on the side of the road. I stopped when I got to the doorway though. Try as I might, I couldn’t entirely rid myself of the memory of seeing the boy with the bloody mouth. I knew it wasn’t real, but I just couldn’t get myself to go in. It gave me the creeps sleeping where someone once died. I made my way over to the couch and nudged Lily over, who watched television so intently as if it held all of the answers to life, and laid down. I winced as my lower stomach gave off a dull ache in protest. I tried to relax, but I could smell Lily from the other end of the couch. New day new rules I guess. “Lily.” I moaned. “You’re supposed to use the potty.” She ignored me in favor of Yoohoo to the Rescue. I doubted my stomach could handle changing a messy diaper right now. It made me want to gag. I hid from the smell under my blanket and wondered how Debbie managed to put up with me last night. The smell alone must have been tear inducing. If I was at home my parents would have left me in the bathtub or something and sealed the door with caution tape. I had almost fallen asleep when Debbie walked by and got a whiff. “Woah, which one of you is that?” Lily and I both pointed at each other. “Eliza, you didn’t get sick again, did you?” I shook my head but she lifted up the blanket anyway. I was back in underwear so it was easy to rule me out as the culprit. “Lily! We were making such good progress yesterday!” She just shrugged, eyes glued to the tv. She was still in her diaper from last night, so at least it wouldn’t be the blow out from a pull up. Debbie left for a few minutes before coming back and placing Lily’s changing mat on the floor. I was normally immune to Lily’s butt bombs, but I didn’t trust my body right now. I rolled over and hid my face back under the blanket to block out any unpleasant stimuli. I didn’t want to give my brain any reason to hit the eject button. “Alright, Lily, you’re all set. Let’s try and make it to the potty next time.” I uncovered my head when I felt a tap on my arm. “You’re turn.” “My turn for what?” I asked. She held up a tube of cream. “Come lay down.” “Oh, umm, I can do it myself.” The sight of the cream made me realize how much it still burned down there. “Let me handle things for now until you’re more stable.” She patted the mat again. I looked at Lily, but she was glued again to the tv. I gingerly made my way to the floor, wincing at all the aches and pains. “How are you feeling?” She asked as she pulled my underwear off. “Sore,” I replied. I audibly moaned as I tried to roll on my side. My stomach was so tender any movement made it ache. It felt like I had been doing crunches all night. “I bet.” I heard the same elastic sound as last night and I turned my head to find her putting on a purple latex glove. “It’s going to be cold. Ready?” It wasn’t nearly as bad as last night now that I knew what was happening. “There you go.” I tried to get up, but she stopped me. “Where are you going? I’m not done with you yet.” My face fell when I saw what she was holding. “I’m not sick to my stomach anymore.” I protested. “And i’m very glad to hear that, sweetie, but now we have a new problem that needs addressing. You know those pills you got? They’re meant to relax your urethra, and you’re going to be drinking lots of water for the next few days. I bet you’re also tired and miserable, and going to want to sleep. So why don’t we just have you wear it just in case and see how you do. I’m quite attached to my furniture.” “I don’t want to.” I tried to sit up, but in my current state Debbie kept me down with a single hand. “It hurts.” I groaned, holding my stomach. Trying to fight against her was a bad idea. It didn’t hurt like I was going to be sick, but I was in no shape to resist. If I wanted out of this i’d have to use my words. I tried to talk her out of it, I really did, but in the end she managed to lift me up by the legs and slide it under me so fast I knew it pointless. One way or another I was staying in this diaper whether I wanted to be or not. With my spirit broken, I laid still and let her finish. “I really didn’t think Lily’s diapers would fit me.” I admitted when she let me sit up. “Of course not.” She laughed. “These are James’s” “Oh.” I said. It made sense. “So you’re used to this.” “Yes. James has a foley catheter, but needs diapers for solid waste.” I stayed where I was for a moment as I tried to phrase my question. Unable to make it any less blunt, I decided to just go for it. “What’s wrong with him?” She smiled a sad smile before listing off a dozen or so conditions from seizures to multiple organ failures. She went on to explain how he spends the majority of the day connected to a TPN and how he was no longer able to absorb nutrients in the traditional sense. The number of surgeries he’s had over the years was staggering. “Sometimes he’s lucid enough to somewhat communicate, but usually he just stares off into space. He even says random words at times, but they usually have no meaning. He had a stroke last year.” “Does he walk at all?” “Oh no, he’s not strong enough for that. If I stood him up, he’d fall back down. Here, let’s get you up.” She offered me her hand and managed to help me back to the couch. She came back with a bottle of water, a pill and a heating pad. I took the medicine and held the heating pad to my stomach as I settled down.” “Lily, sweety, how about you let your sister watch tv?” I didn’t really want to watch tv, but I wasn’t opposed to something playing in the background that didn’t have drawl of a program aimed at small children. “Anything in particular you want to watch?” “I don’t really care.” I said closing my eyes. “Just not a toddler program, the voices are a little too annoying right now.” “Oh I know, you two used to love this show.” I smiled as Scooby Doo came on. James and I had definitely been nuts for it. I drifted off to sleep with the fond memories of searching the backyard jungle for monsters. I was in and out the rest of the morning and into the afternoon. I could hear Debbie’s voice coming from the kitchen and Lily chattering on about something. “Oh, no worries, it’s nothing serious! It’s my fault, really. I fed her a bunch of junk food and let her out on the trampoline. She got an upset tummy and threw up once. Ten minutes later and she was back out like nothing happened.” “Lies.” A raspy voice said. I spun my head around. My mouth hung open. James was sitting in a wheelchair next to me. We stared at each other, and I saw intelligence and lucidity in his eyes. He looked awful, but he looked there. “Can you-” He put his finger to his lips. “Lies.” He whispered again. “Always.” “I wouldn’t say she’s been giving me an attitude, but she does have a bit of a flair for the dramatic. When she’s with me she acts like she’s on death's door, but when she thinks I’m not looking she’s up and around like nothing’s wrong.” I knit my eyebrows together. Was she talking about me? What does she mean I threw up once? “I guess you could say she’s been acting out, but it’s more like immature behavior than anything. Some of it surprised me. No, no, nothing like that. It’s something I’d expect from someone Lily’s age. Well, take yesterday, she was having fun and didn’t want to come inside to use the restroom and- Yes… she did. Well first she asked if she could pee in the grass and when I said no. . .Well she’s not here right now. I let her walk down to the corner and get something to drink. She’s been complaining about the tap water… yes yes I’ll let her know you called. It’s really not a problem, Lily’s been an angel. We’ve been making good progress. Alright, you enjoy your trip.” Was that...my mom? Why would Debbie say that? I never… well, I did technically ask to pee in the grass. And I did have an accident. And complain about the water, but the rest were lies! I felt a pang of hurt. “Lay down.” he said. “She’s coming.” I did as James said and Debbie walked to where we were carrying a syringe. I peeked out between my blanket to see an empty glaze in James’s face and a mouthful of drool gliding down his chin in a way that looked all too familiar. Debbie pulled the syringe out of a tube connected in his upper arm and I felt a chill run down my spine in realization. It wasn’t Jackson I had seen last night in my room. It was James.
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  32. I always loved plastic pants and diapers. As a child I was kind of sensory with some things. I was diapered in the thick white Pampers of the 70s. My mom would also put a pair of poofy white plastic pants over them. So I took a liking to the shiny crinkly plastic surfaces on both of them. I loved the sound of the crinkly plastic when walking around in them or rubbing the surface of them. So when I was trained and no longer wearing these items I did miss them. I was always jealous seeing my younger sister and cousin get to wear diapers and plastic pants. I sometimes thought of stealing a pair of my sisters plastic pants but too afraid to do it. I also would love seeing plastic pants on the racks in baby stores and super markets plus the nice smelling diaper aisles. I always wished I could buy some but didnt have much money yet and wouldnt fit right. I then began to make makeshift diapers and plastic pants. I would use paper towels and plastic bags to make diapers, I attempted plastic pants from some shower caps but didnt work too well and sewn two pairs of plastic baby pants I found at a yard sale to make a big enough pair.....all those makeshift things were helpful but not the real thing...It wasnt til my late 20s and getting into internet sites I was introduced to ABDL stores and was amazed at the items I could get. I could now get proper sized diapers and plastic pants. So nowadays I hae quite the collection...My favorite plastic pants are the VIP Gerber adult sized ones. I wish they still made those...I would so love some new ones, the ones I have are like 20 years old now!
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  33. Sure do. I had underlying continence issues for a big portion of my life before I went into diapers, but I had been out of diapers for several years before I went into them. After about a year of wearing them I started messing them voluntarily. After about 9 months of that I tried to not mess my diapers and failed. I still had partial control then but it's declined since and I would say I've had pretty much zero messing control since about the beginning of 2017.
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  34. Apologize for the lack of updates. I ran into a serious case of writers block, combined with a lack of motivation due to a very stressful job situation and overall life period. I'm hoping I can get back to writing and find the motivation to keep the updates more frequent. Hope you enjoy this next short installation and please keep the comments and feedback coming, it does give me a little extra push to know that people are actually reading and some even waiting for new chapters Chapter 12: Our eyes met, as I turned the corner walking up the driveway and she got out and slammed the car door shut. “Oh hey, Honey. Right on time.” Her stare quickly scanned me up and down. “Oh my, that’s a sagging wet diaper, if I ever saw one.” She may as well just have announced my secret underwear to the entire neighborhood. Luckily nobody was around to hear her statement, but it did worry me. “If she was able to tell I was wearing a wet diaper, in mere seconds. Then I may not have done such a good job of hiding it, on my trips as I thought I did. And did anyone actually notice?” We headed inside together and quickly through our clothes to the side and headed straight for my bedroom to go through our routine of quickly getting me into a fresh diaper, before Mom had to rush back to work. “Mom, was it really that obvious that I was wearing a diaper before.” I asked as I was laying on my bed, legs spread apart, bum in the air, having a new diaper placed underneath me. “Well, maybe it’s just because I know what to look for. But it was sagging a bit between your legs.” She responded, while fastening the tapes of the diaper, before pulling the plastic pants back into place. As she was getting ready to leave for work once again, she must have spotted a concerned or worried expression on my face, because she made a quick pause to go give me a hug. “Don’t worry about the sagging diaper, honey. I’m sure nobody noticed. And I promise we’ll find a solution, to make it a bit easier for you to go outside, without it being too obvious.” Her words kind of made me feel better and brought a small smile to my face, before we sat our goodbyes and she left to finished her day at work and I went and threw myself on the couch, deciding that my adventure to the park, was enough action for the time being. During the next period of time, I would venture out of the house from time to time. One sunny day I went park to the park for another stroll around, another I made a quick run to the store on behalf of Mom. Though I was constantly aware of my diaper and the chance of somebody spotting it or me revealing myself, I slowly became more and more comfortable being around the public, but the constant fear was there, making the whole process of leaving the house, very tiresome. My bladder capacity would continue to decrease during this time. Slowly it became normal to wake up in the middle of the night, needing to go to the bathroom, before simply letting go, wetting and soaking myself, before quickly falling back to sleep. This process soon became second nature and nights with uninterrupted sleep, became less and less frequent. During the day time, I would start to note almost a constant pressure on my bladder, the feeling of needing to go, would be with me at almost any time. The best way to describe it would be like describing the feeling you would feel, if you had drunk several glasses of water and had been holding your pee for the longest time, knowing that the slightest slip of tension or distraction would result in the barrier breaking and you making a real mess of yourself. I started to notice that I would slip up from time to time. In case of a sneeze, hiccup, a violent laughter or anything of that nature. I would actually lose control at those moments and genuinely wet myself, without forcing myself or meaning to do it. One evening I waddled into the living room, the sagging diaper clearly visibly underneath my sweatpants. Mom was in the middle of watching television and my call of “Mom” seemed to annoy her slightly as it forced her attention away from the screen, but despite my disturbance she turned with a caring look. “Yeah honey, what is it.” You could tell by her tone, that she tried not to seem to annoyed by my interruption. “I’m really wet, could you maybe have time to give me a chance.” The request had been rather normal to me, something that I simply asked without realizing how ridiculous it must have sounded coming out of the mouth of a kid in his twenties. “Oh sweetie, I’m right in the middle of something, can’t you wait half an hour?” I bowed my head almost in shame, sorry that I had to interrupt her, to take care of my infantile problem, but know fully that another wetting, would certainly result in a huge leak and terrible mess. “I’m sorry, Mom. I’m not sure I can, its really wet.” She sighed, but also gave me a quick smirk. “Okay then, go grab your stuff and on the way back, please go into the hallway closet and grab the changing mat.” I stared at her with a confused look. “On my way back? The changing mat?” She leaned back in the couch. “Just do it honey, you’ll see what I’m talking about.” I simply couldn’t figure out what she was planning, why should I bring all my supplies into the living room and what changing mat was she talking about? The questions kept spinning in my head, as I waddled back to my room, producing a fresh diaper from the drawer, making sure to bring powder, wipes, oil and even a fresh pair of plastic pants with me, before heading back towards the living room, but coming to a screeching halt, as I passed by the hallway closet. As I opened the door, to the dimply lit closet, the whole confusion about “the changing mat” quickly disappeared as I was greeted by a huge foam mat, which appeared to be covered in a white plastic shell brightly decorated with infantile building blocks, teddy bears, bottles and pacifiers. Making it look almost identical to some of my decorative plastic pants and even almost resembling some of the motives on my diaper. A cascade of question entered my mind, but I had no time to even think them through, as I heard a call from the living room, asking if “everything was alright.” “Yeah, Mom. I’m coming now.” I responded before grabbing a firm hold of the big foam mat and continued to carry everything back to the living room, where Mom had already gotten up from the couch, expecting my return. “Oh good, you found it. Just put it down on the floor, if we’re quick, we can get it done during commercials.” She grabbed the changing supplies from my arms, before I had a chance to respond, as she placed the mat on the floor in the center of the room, in front of the TV. “Mom, where did you get.” I didn’t get a chance to finish my question, before she cut me off. “The changing mat? Oh, it came with your last diaper delivery. Isn’t it just cute? And so practical, now we don’t have to go back to your room every time you need a chance and your bed doesn’t have to play the role of changing station anymore, meaning we may start considering getting you a new mattress or maybe a whole new bed, one that doesn’t reek of urine.” She gently padded the mat. “Now, lay down for me, sweet.” My eyes blew wide open. “You’re going to chance me here!?” She gently grabbed my hand, guiding me down to my knees next to her on the floor. “Of course, Silly. As I said its much more convenient for the both of us and it doesn’t really matter where I change you. A diaper change is a diaper change. Now lay down please.” She gently pushed be back onto the mat, which crinkled underneath me, the same way the rubber sheets on my bed crinkled, as I sank into the foam of the mat, while Mom had already started the process of pulling down my pants, exposing the rubber pants and drenched diaper underneath. “You sure did make a mess out of this one.” She proclaimed, while continuing the process of slipping of my plastic pants and un-taping the diaper. “Anymore and it would have fallen right off, it sure is heavy.” I wasn’t sure if she expected a response and I’m not sure if I would have been able to come up with one, I one still speechless by the new changing mat that was laying underneath me and by the fact that I was having my diaper changed on the floor in the middle of the living room. “We also got to start thinking about fixing you a new wardrobe honey. Summer is slowly coming, you won’t be able to wear sweatpants forever and I’m not sure any of your old shorts will fit over your diaper. I could look into ordering you some new, that is unless you would like to waddle around in just your diaper all summer long.” She chuckled while sprinkling power all over my crotch, before pulling the diaper up between my thighs and fastening the tapes. “There we go, all nice and dry.” She finished off by pulling the plastic pants back in place and wrapping up the used diaper. “All done!” she proclaimed raising to her feet, shifting her attention back to the TV screen. “And just in time. Would you mind cleaning up and throw the old diaper in the pail, honey.” I slowly got up from the changing mat, hearing it crinkle as I did, together with the crinkle coming from my diaper and plastic pants. “Yeah, sure thing, Mom.” I gathered everything in my arms and got ready to leave, only to be stopped in my tracks. “Looks like, we won’t be needing to spent money on a new wardrobe after all.” I heard her chuckle, wondering what she meant, until it occurred on me. I had not put my pants back on after being changed, instead waddling out the living room, in just my diaper and plastic pants, my arms filled with changing supply’s and a used diaper. “Oh, I.” I stammered. “I’m only joking honey. If it’s more comfortable, you don’t have to wear anything over. But I’ll figure out something, so you’ll have something to wear when going out and about this summer.” She turned back to the TV ending the conversation and leaving me to take everything back to my room, dropping the used diaper in the pail on the way, before putting the power, whips and baby oil back in the drawer and leaving my new changing mat next to the dresser. I turned to face myself in the mirror, still only wearing a t-shirt, plastic pants and my diaper underneath. I chuckled to myself at the reflection staring back to me, as I felt a light dripple escape into my padded underwear. No doubt the changing mat would be seeing a lot of action in the future.
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