Leaderboard

Today I lost my mom to cancer. It is the very hardest day of my life. I will be ok my family is with me and also my friends! I will move on and she will be watching over me and my family! Thank you all in advance!

Late post today. It's been crazy, family tech support. Warning, gay smoochy content. ----- Chapter 9 “Briana, let’s talk for a minute.” Veronica said. Briana looked up right away, sitting up cross legged and putting her reading aside. “Casey agreed to your restrictions for a date. Are you still up for it?” “Yes.” Briana grinned. “When can I go?” “When you finish your reading.” Briana sighed and got back to work. She had only two articles left and they were the least interesting ones. Her attention kept wandering to her date. She started to skim the pages. Skimming became turning pages at roughly the same pace she had when she was reading. “Done!” She said triumphantly to Veronica. “Good job.” Veronica said. Briana felt a little guilty but consoled herself that she’d already read way more of the optional stuff than she normally would have. “Can I change clothes for the date?” She asked, lightly bouncing on the floor. “Of course. Do you have an outfit in mind?” Veronica asked. “A simple one but um… can I wear a pullup?” Briana asked. “Yes, if you want. Are you worried about having an accident?” “No, but uh, I got really wet last time we played, and it would be nice to have something on since uh, nothing down there will be coming off.” Veronica smiled. “Whatever reason you have is fine. Make sure you wear a decent top. Don’t go wandering around the house in your bra, or topless.” “I would never!” Briana protested. “Your behavior has been a little off lately, it’s a reminder.” Veronica said. “When your date is done, check in with Erin. She’s in charge of you until bed tonight.” “Yes Veronica.” Briana hopped up and fled the office. The date outfit was simple indeed. She wasn’t going to wear a bra with her loose blouse. Pullups and leggings. The shirt should be easy to remove. Briana stared at her pullups, trying to decide which were the most ‘adult’. The answer was the gray ones for seniors, but she dismissed them out of hand. Eventually she settled on a pair with cars printed on it. Pulling them on during the day felt weird. Especially since she was preparing for a date. That had its own set of weird, she wasn’t sure why she was going ahead with dating Casey. “I guess because Veronica is taking control of it?” Briana thought. “If anything looks like it’s going wrong, she should stop it. She can fix it if we get upset at each other.” She did a turn in front of her mirror, the cobalt blue top flared out and settled enticingly on her chest. Her black leggings were immaculate, no stains or tears. Barely suppressing a giggle, she walked down the balcony-hall and knocked on Casey’s door. Casey had clearly not gotten the same talk from Veronica. She was wearing bike shorts that left little to the imagination. Her only top was a swimsuit top with a zipper in the front. Briana had enough time to smile in surprise before she was pulled into the room. She gasped when Casey pushed her up against the wall, moaned when Casey pinned her there. “I have been thinking about you all day.” Casey grinned. “I heard what you wanted from Veronica, but I want to hear it from you. Nothing under clothes that are below the waist. No outright sex. Is that right?” Briana nodded, reaching out to run her hands over Casey’s flat belly. “Yes, that’s what I want. She didn’t tell me what you want.” “She didn’t need to. If I stay in your bounds, I can do anything I want to you.” Casey smiled and kissed Briana’s neck. “I can control you, play with you however I want.” Briana answered that with a moan. Casey picked Briana up, and effortlessly carried her to the bed. Briana barely had time to roll over before Casey was on her, kissing her deeply. Both Briana’s hands went up; Casey pinned them under one hand. The other caressed Briana through her blouse. Delighted, Briana wiggled against Casey and struggled to free her hands. Discovering that she genuinely couldn’t escape stoked heat between her legs. Their lips parted, Casey pulled Briana’s top up and off. “No bra? You want this as badly as I do.” Casey grinned at Briana. “Yes.” Briana said breathily. “Do whatever you want.” “Oh, I will.” Casey’s free hand pushed Briana’s legs apart, cupped her crotch. Casey paused, surprised. “You’re wearing a diaper?” “No, a pullup.” Briana squirmed, rubbing her crotch against Casey’s hand. “Doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose?” Casey obliged by pressing the heel of her hand against Briana, eliciting a loud moan. “No, see?” Briana panted. “And this way I won’t be all uncomfortable and wet.” Casey laughed. “Nice strategy.” She pulled Briana into the center of the bed and released her. “Lie still.” She commanded. Briana let herself lie sprawled out, quivering as Casey inspected her. Casey lifted her legs one by one, stroking up each of them. She ran her strong hands over Briana’s chest, lifted her to stroke her back. There were little tingles of electricity up and down Briana’s body as she wriggled against Casey’s touch. “You’re beautiful.” Casey said. “Now, take my top off.” “Okay.” Briana sat up and unzipped Casey’s swimsuit. She took her time peeling it off; ran her hands down Casey’s sides. Her hands caressed Casey’s rear, sliding around to her crotch. Her hand found a damp patch in Casey’s shorts, making her glad she was wearing pullups. Briana pressed her fingers gently against the damp. “Oh, it is going to be hard to keep to the rules if you’re doing that.” Casey pushed Briana onto her back and wrapped around her, pinning arms and legs. Their lips met, Casey spent a long time exploring Briana’s mouth with her lips and tongue. Casey grinned at the dazed look on Briana’s face. She stroked along the smaller girl’s body, casually manhandling her. Casey’s eyes sparked with delight at the squirms and moans she got out of Briana each time she was rearranged. Casey’s chest was heaving. She pulled Briana’s ankles up and played her fingers over the layers of leggings and pullup. She spread Briana’s legs out, sliding her hands up and down Briana’s padded crotch. Turning her head into the comforter muffled Briana’s moans only a little. “You really like that.” Casey pulled Briana’s arms behind her back, forcing her to arch upward. “You like being in a diaper.” “No I don’t.” Briana whined. The whine became another wanton moan when Casey gripped her crotch. “You do.” Casey whispered in Briana’s ear. “That’s why you wore it for our date. Because you wanted me to play with you while you were wearing one.” “It’s a pullup.” Briana protested. “Call it whatever you want.” Casey presented one of her breasts to Briana’s mouth, sighed in pleasure when Briana started licking. “You’re my diaper sub, aren’t you?” Briana closed her eyes and sucked on Casey’s nipple so she wouldn’t have to answer. She devoted herself to worshipping Casey. A strong hand pushed her from one breast to another, or down Casey’s belly with Briana happily obeying. “I was going to have you kiss right around the legs of my shorts.” Casey panted. “But I don’t think I’d be able to stop from shoving your face in my crotch.” “I wouldn’t stop you either.” Briana thought. “I’m glad Veronica made us have rules… kind of.” Another long session of kissing left Briana so soaked she could feel it even with a pullup on. The room, she was sure, reeked of sex. She wished it would go on forever, but at the same time, nervousness was building in her belly. With a shuddering sigh, Casey disengaged from Briana. The crotch of her shorts were soaked. Casey stood up and opened a window, taking another deep breath to steady herself. “I think we need to call this here.” Briana pouted, then nodded. Relief and frustrated disappointment made a strange combination. “I had a lot of fun.” “Me too.” Casey grinned. “One more thing before I let you go. Take down your leggings. I want to see your pullup.” Briana blushed, and peeled her leggings down. The pullup was not as pristine as it had been when she put it on. A couple of the cars were even missing over the crotch. “Stand up, turn around.” Casey ordered. Briana crawled off the bed and complied. “That doesn’t look bad at all. You’re pretty cute in it.” Casey walked over and grabbed Briana’s rear through the pullup. “Feels good too.” “Thanks.” Briana nuzzled Casey’s chest. “From now on, you need to be wearing a pair of those every time we go on a date.” Casey declared. “What?” Briana blinked. “That’s right, even if it’s not making out in my room. Even if I take you out somewhere.” “But Casey!” Briana frowned. “I’m not saying you’ll have to use them, yet.” Casey said. “That’s an order, no discussion. If we’re playing, you’re in pullups, understand?” Briana felt like she was blushing down to her toes. She licked her lips and nodded. “Does it turn you on?” Casey asked relentlessly. “Yes.” Briana said in a tiny voice. “I thought so.” Casey palmed Briana’s crotch. “You look good in them. Very fuckable, my subby diaper girl.” Briana buried her face in Casey’s chest. “You hungry?” Casey teased. Briana pushed Casey away and stuck out her tongue. “Meanie.” “Yeah, so mean that some of your cars are faded.” Casey pressed. “Stop it!” Briana giggled, pulling on her leggings and blouse. “Looking forward to playing with you again.” Casey said. “Me too.” Briana said. “With less rules maybe.” “Or rules that I make.” Casey said. Briana shivered and nodded. She kissed Casey again, tenderly, and slipped out of the room.

Scene #168 It’s a heccin good thing I’m independent and reliant on no one but myself, cuz otherwise when I rolled over in bed and didn’t find my comfort person, I would’ve been very upset. But nope, not me. I was merely curious where she went until my very pretty ears (so says the person who nibbles on them on) and very good hearing (so says the same person who likes to bring that up when I’ve allegedly not been listening) detected a soft sound coming up from our living room. I tip-toed downstairs in the dark and heard the dulcet tones of my Mary singing. Goodnight, my angel Now it's time to dream And dream how wonderful Your life will be Someday your child may cry And if you sing this lullaby Then in your heart There will always be a part of me My Mary sings very well, though I’m not sure if that’s objectively true or I just love her so much and stuff that I just think she sings very well. I turned the corner into our living room and there she was, sitting next to a sleeping puppy wrapped in a blanket. Mary couldn’t have not noticed me when I came in, but she didn’t stop singing. I sat down next to her and waited for her to be done before whispering, “Do you sing that song to everyone their first night living with you?” “You wake this puppy, Daphne Ann, and I’ll spank your bare bottom,” was her reply. Hmm. So … wasn’t expecting that. I mean, I was whispering. Granted, I’m not great at whispering, which apparently is a skill I haven’t mastered, but I wasn’t any louder than Miss Mary Sing-Song. “Rude,” I whispered back even more softly. “She just fell asleep again.” “I feel kinda bad for her,” I said. “She must miss her mom and brothers and sisters so much. And she was shaking so hard almost all the way home.” I leaned my head on Mary’s shoulder and held her arm. “But I feel happy for her, cuz she has you.” And I’m an expert on how awesome it is to have Mary. Make me shudder just thinking about it. “She has you, too.” And o my gawd, cuz Mary turned and kissed my hair. O heck with the heccin feels. “So do you sing that song to everyone on the first night they move in with you?” “What do you mean?” “You sang me that song the first night we lived together. In bed, before we fell asleep.” “I didn’t remember what song it was. I guess I do, since you two are the only ones I’ve ever lived with. Doesn’t make you jealous, does it?” “Heehee. No.” At least, I don’t think so. Not yet. Not that I ever get jealous. Really. “Tell me more about that night. Our first night living together.” “We spent the whole day moving my stuff into storage and your apartment, and we were sweaty and gross.” “Mhmm.” “And your neighbor across the hall was super helpful cuz he was so obviously wanting to ask me out.” Mary giggled. “Poor Joshua. The man had no gaydar at all.” “Yeah, but as a consolation prize he got to go to bed thinking about what the lesbian neighbors were doing. Not that I’m judging cuz that’s the same thing I’d be doing if we had lesbian neighbors.” “My hypersexual Daffodil.” “I’m not hypersexual, Mary. I’m homosexual.” She let out a “Ha!” before stifling herself down to a suppressed chuckle, but not before she snorfed (snort-laughed; I make portmanteaus sometimes). “We can’t wake the puppy,” she whispered again. “Then stop snorfing,” I whispered back. “Snort-laughing. I made a new word just now.” Just got that out there preemptively cuz Mary had huh-what? face. “What happened next?” “We ordered Gino’s and ate pizza and drank beer on the balcony.” “And you waved hello to everybody who walked by,” Mary added. “I was getting to know my new neighbors.” “And then when we were done eating, we crashed. Completely out of energy as soon as the food hit our bellies.” “We took a shower together.” “No funny business.” “And we got in bed, and you appointed yourself the big spoon.” “You appointed yourself the little spoon.” “And you sang me that song.” Mary turned and kissed my hair again. “You are, you know.” “What?” “My angel. That’s what you are.” “No you,” I answered cuz she so heccin is! Mary, guardian angel, ninja, sorceress, coyote, computer something or other, love of my life. We sat in silence for a moment watching our puppy sleep. We have a puppy together. Still hard to believe, like woah, hey teen bride, that’s such a big step for a married couple in their thirties. You sure you're ready? And so much cuteness! I had already made peace that until the dog reached her awkward adolescent phase, I wouldn’t be the cutest thing in the house. “You were awfully cute today at the rescue,” Mary told me as though she can read my mind. She might be able to; she is a sorceress, as I’ve said. Would explain how she always stays a couple steps ahead of me despite my preternatural knack for strategizing and subterfuge. If I wasn’t a homemaker, I’d probably be a spymaster or something. Really. But back to the rescue. “The swarmed me all at once. I was knocked off my feet,” I reminded her. She must’ve forgotten cuz I told her that at the rescue. “Really? Because to me it looked like maybe you were hoping to have puppies crawling all over you and licking your face.” “Who wouldn’t?” I’ve never wanted to be at the bottom of a pile before, but so many puppies! It’s like the physical manifestation of uwu just all over you with the terminal adorability and puppy breath and puppy toes and puppy eyes! Oof! “You know you flashed your diaper to that woman?” “Aw geez.” That stings. “Seriously?” “Super seriously. Your skirt rode almost all the way up while you were rolling around on the ground.” “Did she say anything?” “Nope. I just saw her do a double take, but she didn’t say anything. I didn’t think you’d want me making an even bigger scene by saying something like, ‘Daffodil, what did we say about showing strangers your Pampers? That’s not how you’re supposed to tell me you’re wet.’” “You wanted to, though, didn’t you?” I’m on to her. “I so wanted to.” “Thanks for not telling me. I’d have been too embarrassed to enjoy picking out our puppy together after that.” A lot to pick from, and I said to the woman, “Are these all of them?” “There’s one still inside. She’s shy.” “Can we see her?” “Of course. They shy ones always get picked last, but they outgrow it with the right family.” And Mary, brushing the dust and grass off me, put her arm around me, and we followed the woman inside. (Know what stinks? The room nine puppies live in.) We sat down on the floor near the puppy, and we called to it and patted the floor and held out a treat and a toy … and she didn’t budge. “What do you think,” Mary asked me. “I think we should pick her.” “My dad always said you should let your dog pick you,” Mary said, nodding toward her across the room, sitting there shaking (the puppy, not Mary). “Yeah, but it’s just because she’s scared of strangers. We won’t be strangers by tomorrow.” “You’re sure?” “Mhmm. If you are. It was your idea.” Mary looked me right in the eye and made her you’re-too-sweet face at me. “You don’t want her to get picked last, and you wanna be the one who helps her come out of her shell.” “I want us to help her come out of her shell.” “Yeah,” Mary said, “but it’s literally all I can do to keep just a little of you in your shell.” “Not even. It’s all I can do to keep you from running away with what’s left of my shell.” It sure as heck wasn’t my idea to spank me in dressing room at the mall (or the many, many times and places thereafter … well, some of them were my idea … okay, insistence, but whatever). And that’s how we picked out the puppy. “You think of a name yet,” I asked Mary. “Still not sure.” “Me neither. Should we try to put her back in her crate,” I yawned. “She’ll wake up and start crying again if we do.” “She’s gotta get used to it at some point.” “Yeah, but she’s had a hard enough day. I’ll stay down here if you wanna go back up to bed.” “How about I bring a couple pillows down?” “Even better.” I got halfway to the stairs and turned around, looking at Mary looking at the puppy. I resolved to relent: if she wants to call herself a dog mom, I won’t make fun. Having things to take care of just makes her so happy. _______ I'm choosing this ferocious uwu beast as the model for their puppy. What should we name her? If people send suggestions, I'll set up a poll so everyone can vote.

“…and hit Compile, and…” She sat back, watched the text scroll up her screen. As it stopped she leaned forward, copied the output onto a USB key designed to look like a pacifier and stuck it into the mouth of her humanoid robot. “New firmware detected,” said a warm female voice, “Installing. Complete. Testing functions.” She waited patiently as the robot moved its legs, each in turn, then its arms. She’d dressed it as a nanny, or at least how she imagined they’d dressed a hundred years before. “Tests complete,” she heard, “Initiating main program.” The robot stood up, its long grey skirt falling below its knees and hiding the lace beneath. Its head turned and the cameras she’d put where its eyes should be flexed slightly, showing they were adjusting their focus. “Baby identified. Initiating care routine,” said the warm female voice. She sat back in surprise. There were no babies here, just her and the robot. Unless… Quickly she turned to the computer, checked her program. As she scrolled rapidly through she felt the robot take her arm. “No, stop. I’m not a baby,” she told it, but it ignored her, pulled her away from the computer and off her chair. She knew why. She’d been testing its motor functions, its ability to lift and carry a person, whether it was strong enough to cope with an unruly child. The firmware she’d used had a timer, would shut the robot down after just ten minutes, but had infant recognition disabled, so that she could test it herself during that period. She’d removed the timer when she added the care modules, but realised she hadn’t re-enabled its ability to differentiate between babies and adults. The robot didn’t care. It had been programmed to strip, clean, diaper and feed, and it had already laid her on the floor, stripped off her jeans and underwear, used a warm wet sponge to assure she was clean and ready. She saw a glimmer of hope. There were no diapers that could fit her. Even as she saw the robot look around and realise this she remembered the logic she’d included. “No diapers available; placing order,” she heard, as she was picked up. She saw her web browser start up, the robot’s wireless connection successfully controlling her computer, finding an adult diaper site and placing an order. 200 diapers? How long was this going to happen? Carried through to the bathroom she struggled to free herself but the robot was implacable and calm, just held her firmly without hurting her, then pinned her to the floor as it reached for a towel. “Improvising diaper,” she heard as it wrapped the towel around her. She knew it would take her to the kitchen next, cut a bin bag into makeshift waterproof panties, strap her to a chair and feed her some lunch. There was just one thing left to try. She knew it wouldn’t work, trusted in her programming. She had to try through. “Nanny switch off,” she said in a firm clear voice. “Switch off command received,” she heard, and sighed with relief, “Command came from baby. Ignoring command.” She groaned and relaxed in the robot’s arms. She’d done everything she could, it wasn’t her fault now. Someone else would have to rescue her. Hopefully not too quickly.

@Spiderman@BabySpiderBoy@DailyDi I agree Spider-Man. That was really funny! Especially with a guy that had the Massachusetts accent! And not only that, but the part where the box is yelling “NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO” was really funny as well. I’m glad that someone was able to take something so serious and make it entertaining! I even think that @spoonchicken would get a kick out of this – one fart from him, and that box would probably be running! ????????????? ****Hugs to da spoonchicken**** Brian

OMG! That's the funniest thing I've seen in quite a while, and the Boston accent only adds to it!

This is how I picture your poop package going

"Jackson, you're fired." my boss said. "What? Why? I've been doing ok, haven't I? I show up, I do my job, I go home, what else are you asking of me?" "Jackson, are you kidding me? You show up late, some days you don't even show up and then later claim it was a mental health day. You've used up all your sick time and vacation and the fiscal year has barely started! We just can't deal with this, you'll need to find another job. We'll send you the paper work and your final cheque in the mail. Have a good day and best of luck going forward." I was shocked! Well... not really that shocked if I'm being honest with you, everything he said was true. This factory job suckedddddd, but it paid the bills and it gave me enough money to indulge the one thing that took up so much of my time and did cause me to be late and miss days, living an ABDL lifestyle. Growing up sucks, you have barely any free time, your friends are too busy and bad things start happening. For example my mom passing away from cancer in my early twenties, that really took a toll, then my dad re-married and that was an awkward period. My new step mom Sarah liked to dote on me and kind of always treated me younger than I actually was. If I had to guess, it would probably be because I was an only child and she didn't have any kids of her own, so I was the only output for her mothering feelings. You'd think as an ABDL I'd love that, but at the time I just felt like she was trying to replace my mom... Then, six months ago, my father passed away unexpectedly too, from a heart attack. Both my parents were the only child in their family, so I was mostly left with just my step mom. The passing of my dad definitely left me depressed and I can certainly say I found comfort in diapers and regressing. It gave me comfort, trying to regress to a time where everything was better, I still had my family, I didn't have all these dumb responsibilities to deal with...ughhh... After I got home from work I noticed a piece of paper on my door. "Evicted? What the hell?! Shiiiiiit, did I forget to pay the rent again? Ughhhh how can things get worse." I didn't know what to do... I barely had any money, had no job, as of the end of the week no where to live too... well, there's only one option left. I'd have to suck it up and see if I could stay with my step mom Sarah for a bit while I got on my feet. Now, usually I'd do everything I could in order to avoid the situation, I'd rather not be a burden on those around me. But my step mom Sarah? Well she was an exception. Let me tell you about her, she was still young, just entering her forties, she was gorgeous still (hey, she's my step mom, and what can I say, my dad had amazing taste) and I've never seen someone so blessed with luck in all my life. Back when bitcoins were just a novelty, she was paid thousands of them for a job. I have no idea why she did it, in her words "I just had a good feeling about them" while knowing absolutely nothing about them, then she eventually invested in, again her words "that Paypal space guys company", which was being very early on Tesla, and she had many other investments that somehow just paid off. So she was rich, like big time rich, but didn't really do much. She'd recently decided to move about 8 hours from my hometown into a new house. She said living in that same house and same town just reminded her of how much she missed my dad. So I get it, wanting a new, clean start, I couldn't blame her, but if she let me stay with her, I'd be in a new town where I didn't know anyone or have any friends. I decided to call her up. *Ring* *ring* -click- "Hey Sarah." "Jackson! Oh my god baby, I haven't heard much from you since... you know...... I'm so glad you called!" "Oh yeah, how are you liking the new house and the new city?" "Oh it's nice, but the house feels so empty and I'm still adjusting to the new city." "Oh, yeah?" "What about you? How's that fancy job going? Any girls in your life yet?" "About that...." "What is it Jackson? You can tell me anything baby." "Wellllll, I was fired this week.... and I'm being evicted..." "Oh no, what are you going to do? Do you need money to get back on your feet or...?" "Actually, I was going to see if I could stay with you for a bit, while I figure out what to do next and try to get back on my feet, you know?" "Ohhhhh of course baby, I just said the house felt empty, so having you here would be amazing, but you gotta promise me, you won't just get lazy and start relying on me. I expect you to be handing out resumes and looking for work within a few weeks of getting settled, deal?" Ughhhh, how did I know she would say something like that... "Of course Sarah, I'll do my best" "Perfect, I can't wait to have you here!" After hanging up, I got to packing. I didn't have much I'd need to take, I'd just leave the rest for the landlord to deal with. So the next morning I was off, driving to what would be my new home for awhile. Pulling up to the address and I was floored. This place was huge! Saying it was a mansion might be a little much but wow was it ever bigger than the house I grew up in. Sarah greeted me, dragged me inside, gave me the grand tour and show me to my room. It was a fairly nice spare bedroom, had plenty of space and a desk where I could set up my computer. It also had a decent size walk in closet where I could put my things too, I hadn't brought much, but my eyes were definitely searching around for somewhere to stash my ABDL stuff. I hadn't brought much, but my cache of diapers, pacifiers, bottles, onesies, shortalls and a few other odds and ends made the trip with me. I'd have to find some place good... The grand tour was nice, but one thing did stand out to me was the big empty room right across from the master bedroom. It could easily be turned into another bedroom, an office maybe, or something... else. I asked Sarah about it. "So what's with the big empty room across from your bedroom? Not doing anything with it? Seems weird that it's just empty..." "I don't know actually, I still haven't found a use for it yet, you know? I don't really need another bedroom and I don't really have a job to need an office for... Couldn't tell ya, it just is what it is for now. I'm sure I'll find a hobby soon that I'll need the room for." She smiled warmly at me. She left me to get settled as I laid on my new bed, pooped from the drive all the way here. I grabbed my phone and looked at the local job site. Nothing on there looked appetizing in the least. "Ughhh" I grumbled. "I don't want to do any of these damn jobs, they all sound so boring and meaningless, why can't I just go back to a time where I didn't have to deal with any of this?" I just laid in bed and started scheming on how I could get out of finding a job and just live the easy life. I promised my step mom I wouldn't, but ahhhh she had plenty of money, why should I have to bother working. I opened my phones web browser and started looking up ABDL stories to read. I came upon one which involved hypnosis, where the main character hypnotized their babysitter to act like the baby. Ahhh that was hilarious, what a thought... god I'd love to pull something like that off. It couldn't work in real life.... could it? Only one way to find out. End of part 1 (First story here, please be gentle if there's mistakes in here I'm sorry, I kind of just write it all out at once and don't like to re-read or edit my stuff. Reading my own work always makes me feel off? Every time I read my stuff I just feel like it sounds stupid so either way, enjoy. I've already got the next few chapters written.)

Hi , i am a lonely little diapered pup looking to meet people and to chat with people with similar interests.

I usually wear pull ups to give me that padded feel but also I have the occasional IBS accident and its good to know I am protected. I have been wearing everyday for over 2 weeks and today I decided not to since by bowels felt fine. Well the IBS accident happened today of all days....... ?

That's very good news Mikey! I forgot you were EVEN sick.?????? LOL!??

Oh my god. I almost shit myself laughing while watching this.

Sorry for your loss.

*lowers head and takes off hat, prays for you* cancer is an insidious disease, i lost a granny to it, and i was told my late former stepfather died from it, but she is at peace now, she is with Jesus, one day you will see her again.(just dont do anything to move up that timing, please)

Thank you

I'm sorry to hear that

I think Puddles would be a good name for the puppy, or Daisy to go along with Daphne's Daffodil nickname

I'm really enjoying this story, and like BabySofia said, using hypnosis to get a mommy is definitely a different take on it. There are so many ways this can get out of control for Jackson and he hasn't tested "trombone" yet. What if that suggestion didn't work and he can't easily hypnotize her again if she starts taking things too far?

My friends and family knows that I am diaper dependent and Incontinent

Hey! I've seen you around here before buddy! I LOVE Bulbasaur!??☺️?♥️???? I LOVE chatting with new people. And I VERY much would like to get to KNOW you. You seem pretty cool!??????♥️???♥️☺️???♥️

I love the whole plot of the story it fun to read.

Like most, none of my family or anyone close know. I feel like the enjoyment of diapers is something I should keep to myself, at least for now.

Honestly it's tough, but I remind myself with a serial it's handy to have a bunch of chapters 'in the can' to still use if I'm too busy to write. They can make a great buffer. (Something I'm reminding myself right now as I have the start of something nearly to that point...) Good luck with it! (And the reader in me says... POST THEM ALL!!!! ? ) <-Ignore her, she's trouble!

Part 3 OH. MY. GOD! This worked flawlessly so far! We both slipped into these roles so easily! This was exactly what I wanted, oh my god it couldn't have gone better. A diaper change, getting me dressed, baby talking me... she even sniffed my butt like you would any infant who usually leaves their mommies presents in their diapers. I was in heaven! It had been a few hours, me lost in my thoughts and Sarah still downstairs, before I heard her come up and head to bed. I'd have to wait a few more hours for the next test. Hypnosis was a tricky thing, if you did it really well, there wasn't much that could break you out of it, specially once it got rooted in your subconscious. But a few things could knock it out. Like sayyyy being knocked unexpectedly out of REM sleep? I had to try... So after waiting a few hours, not like I could sleep anyway with how god damn excited I was, I waddled up to her doorway and could hear the faintest snoring. Not loud by any means, just the cute, over exhausted type of snoring. So here goes nothing. I walked in with my teddy and shook her gently. I tried best to gather a few tears and did my best sniffles acting. "Mmmmm...hmm? What's going on? Oh baby, it's just you, what's wrong sweetums?" "I hadda nightma momma" I sniffled and let a tear trickle down. "Awwwh baby, come here and snuggle with mommy" She patted the bed right where she had been sleeping. She pulled me, her adult step son, diapered in a onesie, into bed with her to cuddle, to calm me down after a nightmare. Jesus... to say I did this well would be an understatement. There I was, this beautiful woman was spooning me, cuddling me, trying her best to comfort me... had I died and gone to heaven? Maybe, with the way my life had been going, there was a good chance of it... "Tell momma whats wrong baby" she said sleepily. I turned, buried my head in her chest a bit. I could feel her nipple pocking me in the cheek, it took every ounce of strength I had not to go for the suck... it was the first day and that was a big step so I put everything into resisting the urge, from both the baby side and the adult male side. "I scawred of the docta mommy" "Ohhhh shhhhh there's nothing to be afraid of baby" she said as she stroked my hair gently. "Mommy's doctor is really nice and I'm sure she'll be super accepting and nice to you. HeeHee, if this was a few weeks ago, you probably would have been into her, but now instead of getting her number you probably just want her to give you a lollipop or a didee change" She teased. Whoa, she acknoledges just weeks ago I was normal, but sees it as completely normal to treat me like a complete baby now. I'm rather impressed with my abilities... She turned me back around and continued to cuddle me until we both well asleep again. The Next Morning. "Yeah.... you think you can fit me in?..... uh huh... night time accidents... yep.... day time... mmmhmm... wet and messy... seemed to regress... yep... a lot of pressure recently... uh huh... oh perfect, I'll get him dressed and we'll be over soon." Mommy, I mean Sarah, must have been on the phone, based on the pieces of it I think we have a doctors appointment. I had just woken up, still in her bed, but she must have been up going about her day. My bladder was aching at this point, so I decided to just let it out. "Mmmmmmmmmm... sighhhh" "I think I'm starting to recognize that face baby, you doing your piddles in your diapee?" Sarah said. Geez I hadn't even noticed she had come in the room. I decided to be playful and shake my head no and grin. "Hmmm I think my big baby's lyinggggm unless you were doing number two?" She rolled me over a bit in bed and sniffed my butt again. "Doesn't smell like you've made a morning stinky yet" She proceeded to stick two fingers into my diaper to check. "Yep, just as I suspected my big baby boy was lying, mommy knows what your pee face looks like" She smiled and tickled my tummy a bit. We gotta get up and get moving baby, we have an appointment in an hour and a half with mommys doctor, so we gotta boogie. I explained everything and she is sooo excited to see you baby!" This made me nervous, this whole part of the day did, but what could I do? If it went the way I wanted, it would really lock things in and mommy would feel free to really embrace this new situation. "Let's get you downstairs for breakfast baby, I know your wet, but I know sometimes breakfast can make you go number two and I don't want to have to change you twice. So lets go eat!" We headed downstairs and some of my ABDL things I could see had already been moved out of my room and into the kitchen, as I could see the big bottle of milk beside what looked to be a plate of scrambled eggs and the big bib sitting on the kitchen chair, my favourite one that said "Mommy's messy eater" on it. Sarah took little time in plonking me in the chair, tying up the bib and starting to scoop up eggs and shovel them towards my mouth. She did amazingly, always with sound effects, whether it was a race car pulling in for a pit stop, a plane landing in the hangar or a choo choo train pulling into the station. It's like she had been doing this her whole life... I did my part, spitting up some parts, turning my head so some got splatted on my cheeks and generally pretended to be unwilling to eat for parts. After breakfast she did her best to clean up my face and hands before we headed back upstairs to get a diaper change and get dressed for the day. She was quick and efficient with this change, this time going with an ABU Alphagator diaper, so thick and babyish. She picked out a pastel blue onesie which had various puppies on it and went with snap crotch shortalls. I didn't have a ton of ABDL clothes that would look acceptable outside, so the choices were limited. "You stay right here baby, mommy will be right back" I kinda just sat there, I grabbed my pacifier and shoved it into my mouth and suckled as I waited for Sarah to come back. "There it is baby, found it." She was referring to a really big purse she had. "I can't beleive mommy has been so irresponsible that she hasn't even gotten you a proper diadee bag" she cooed at me. "Hmmm need some powder, wipes, bottle, an extra pacie and we'll take a couple of extra didees just in case, especially since you haven't made your morning pushies yet." With everything packed up, we headed out. Sarah drove a fairly spacious SUV, so she got me up into my seat and did up my seatbelt in the back seat. "Again, just another thing mommy needs to get, her little guy needs a car seat, yes he does, yes he doessss" Before closing the door to get going she plopped a pacie in my mouth and handed me my stuffed bear for comfort. "I know trips to the doctors can be scary, but you just need to trust mommy ok?" "Yeth mowmy" I tried to talk around the pacifier. She closed the door and off we went.

@ken2988 Unless you would walk around in front of your sister in normal underwear, you should probably get some pants or at least shorts that cover your diaper.

Eight: Nursery “It smells like paint,” she said. “Is that the project? Are you repainting the store?” “Not all of it.” The back door closed behind him and he flipped on the lights of the stockroom. Harper immediately turned her attention to the changing table, pulled out from the nursery. “Ah,” she said. “Is that what this is? Renovations for the Baby Room?” “I needed a distraction,” he said. “Once I’m done, I’m sure the room will go just as unused as it is now.” “Let’s see,” she said, walking into the room and turning on the light. “Okay, well I like the paint color. What other changes were you looking to make?” “I bought a mirror for the inside of the door. Maybe I’ll upgrade the changing table - get one of those custom-built fellas? I’ll stock the shelf in here with wipes, powder, etc. Maybe hang a mobile? Get some stuffed animals? I’m winging it.” “I’m not picturing it,” she said, stroking her chin. “So, like, where would the changing table go, ideally?” “Over in that corner. Opposite of the one it was in before, I think.” “That makes sense,” she said. “Could we put it there now? I just want to picture what it would look like.” “Yeah, sure,” he said with a shrug. It was probably easy enough to move with just one person - he had gotten it out of the room by himself earlier - but it was even easier with two. They carried it into the room and placed it down. Harper stepped back and tilted her head, seeming to try and see what the finished project would look like. “Yeah, okay. I’m seeing it now. With that wall color? And the changing table here? I think that makes more sense.” “Alright, good,” he said, letting out a sigh of relief. She had always been the better decorator and her approval carried a lot of weight. “Actually,” she said, “maybe the placement of the changing table isn’t perfect.” “No?” “I don’t know. It’s hard to say without seeing a person on the table. Like, I feel like having a body on the table is going to change the aesthetics a little. That’s an important thing to consider.” “So, would it help if I, like, laid down on top of it?” “Oh, for sure. That would help a lot, actually.” He did so, climbing atop the converted bench, lying down on his back. It reminded him of a few days earlier, during the night spent at the shop. But with her here, it reminded him of days long past. “Does that help?” he asked. She laughed, and he laughed in response. “No, not really.” “No? Why not?” “I mean, I just see a fully dressed man laying on a table in what I’m supposed to imagine is a nursery of some sort. It’s not working for me.” “Okay, so what would help?” “If I’m supposed to imagine a baby laying on this table, then I think I need to see a baby.” “Interesting,” said Layne. “Should I go...find one?” “No, no,” she replied. “Not at this hour of the night, anyways. We’ll have to do with what we have.” “So…” “So, take off your pants, big boy. We need to make sure this room is going to look alright with a baby in it.” This suggestion itself was a surprise to neither - both knew where this was going when Layne had first suggested that they take a drive. The surprise was just how into it both were. Both had suspected the other would be hesitant or wary of actually going through with this. He unfastened his pants and pushed them down his legs, boxer briefs included. She stood near the other end of the table, catching the crumpled mass of cloth and helping lead them down the remainder of his legs. Just like old times. Just like riding a bike. Just like taking the pants off of your husband so you could put him in a diaper. It had been a while since she had last seen his cock. If it hadn’t been two years, it had to have been incredibly close. It hung to the side, semi-inflated - as if waiting for the go-ahead to fully stand at attention. She didn’t give that permission. Not yet. “Choice of diaper?” she asked. “There’s an open pack of Carnivals in the stock room,” he said. “Or, whatever, lady’s choice.” “I’ll take a look around. Be right back - don’t go anywhere.” “Wouldn’t dream of it.” True to her word, she wasn’t gone all that long. She rummaged around the shelves quickly before tearing open a plastic package, drawing a single diaper from it. “The Peach Bottoms,” he said, seeing the peach-colored diaper in her hand as she returned to the nursery. Undersellers, though a style he had always been a fan of himself. “Legs up,” she said. She probably didn’t even have to say anything, his legs were already in motion as the words came from her mouth. She slid the diaper under him, and he automatically knew when to lower himself atop it. She pulled it through his legs, taping the sides and sealing him into it. She even gave him a playful pat on the padded bottom before stepping back. “Okay,” he said. “How about now? Does this help you picture the finished Nursery better?” “Hmm,” she mused, stroking her chin. “We’re getting closer. I think you need to look...smaller. More babyish.” “More? Any suggestions?” “You’ll need to lose the shirt, for starters.” She unbuttoned his shirt before helping him to wiggle his way from it and the black tee underneath. They were added to the pile with his pants on the ground. Then, catching a spot she missed before, she pulled his socks from off of his feet. “Now we’re talking,” she said. “Baby Puddles, in just his little diaper.” That name was another blast from the past. Up until now this had been cute. A fun diversion from the soul-crushing despair of the future. But the deeper into this game they had gotten, the more he could feel itches getting scratched that hadn’t been for some time. More than that - it was getting reacquainted with an old friend he had seen in years. One of those old friends he thought it would be super-awkward to try and converse with all these years later. Yet, within seconds, they were carrying on as if no time had passed. Hello, Baby Puddles. I’ve missed you. “Is somebody feeling very little?” cooed Harper, looking down at him as he stretched out in the changing table - her words broken down into musical syllables. Her fingers playfully danced up his chest. “I can tell.” He wanted, badly, to say something snarky or sarcastic. Something very Layne. But there was nothing that could be said that wouldn’t ruin this moment, and he wanted this moment to last for as long as possible. “I know a thing or two about this little baby boy,” she said softly. “I know the things he likes. Well, I knew what he used to like. But I bet that he still has the same, uh, tastes now. Is that right?” He nodded immediately, not even certain that he knew what she was referring to. But as she began to pull off her top, his eyes lit up with comprehension. His mouth watered. She didn’t remove her bra, she had just pulled her left breast from it, letting it hang openly before her. “Yes?” she asked, watching his face grow more and more excited. “Would you like this? Do you want to be fed, little one?” He stopped just short of thrusting his head up to bite at her chest like he was some sort of diapered piranha. There had been a lot of things that he missed about ‘the good old days,’ but most of those things could be reproduced in some way by himself - wearing diapers, crawling around, etc. But this was an experience he truly believed he’d just never get to have again. She lowered her chest down to his face slowly, until he could just barely reach it when he strained his neck. It didn’t stop him - he would’ve turned his head round 180 degrees if it meant he could taste her nipple again. That perfect teardrop shape with the flesh button on the end, how he missed it. His lips enveloped it, suckling on it loudly. They both moaned. Her hand reached between his legs, grasping the firming lump in the front of the diaper. Permission granted. He was hard as a rock and throbbing in her hand as she stroked him through the bulky padding. “Does the little baby like this?” He unleashed a groan that could only be described as positive-sounding. “Do you remember when we used to do this all the time?” He nodded. “Come,” she said. “Sit with me.” She stood up, pulling her breast from his mouth. His lips made a final weak attempt to reach up and grasp her nipple, but it was already too far away. She left her shirt off, and left the nursery, unfastening her bra and letting it fall to the ground as she did. He quickly sat up on the table, swinging his legs off the side before sliding off to follow. But he didn’t walk to her. He could’ve - and she certainly hadn’t asked him to do anything else - but he could remember the way that this used to go. When she summoned her baby, her baby crawled. And so he crawled from the nursery, across the stockroom, and to where Harper had taken a seat along the far wall. Her legs were splayed open, a welcome invitation to return to a figurative-womb. He spun himself around, sitting between her legs with his back to her, letting her wrap her arms around him and pull him in close. There was a momentary thought about how often Effie swept the floor like he had once asked her too, but that faded away quickly, making more room for Baby Layne to be present. “Isn’t this nice?” she asked. He offered some sort of content moan. “I missed this.” Her hands slowly slid down his bare chest and stomach - a few extra pounds of soft baby fat since the last time she had probably done something like this - until they had reached his diaper. She gently squeezed at it, feeling the padding squish beneath her fingers. There was something about diapers - the psychological expectation of diapers - that had embedded itself in his psyche just as much as potty training had. While outside of diapers, he had all the control he could ever need. In diapers, his body knew what the end result was going to be and it was well-trained to make it happen. So he wet himself while her hands were on his diaper. “Oh gosh, Baby Puddles. Are you actually…” Another affirmative moan. “It’s so warm,” she said softly into his ear. “Keep going. Really fill that diaper and live up to your name.” It was out of his control now, but she was going to get exactly what she wanted. “Do you remember Lake George?” she asked. She didn’t wait for a response. “We thought we were the only ones at the campsite for days. We could go anywhere and do anything we wanted, and there didn’t seem to be a soul there to see it.” He nodded. “And there was that rec center there, with the pool table and the arcade games and the jukebox. And you played that Stone Temple Pilots song like 18 times in a row.” “Plush,” he said with a laugh, further melting into her hands as she rubbed his diaper. “I dared you to take your pants off and keep them off, right? For the rest of the week. Just you and your diaper. And you did it. Because you were such a good baby. And you waddled around in your sagging diaper? Mommy had to keep changing you because you couldn’t keep a diaper dry for more than an hour at a time.” There was a lot more that she could probably have said, but he knew the stories just as well. In the silence that followed, he was transported back to that final full day of camping. Three or four days of almost exclusively using diapers in the woods had finally become second nature and little thought had been given about concealing it. They had returned to the rec center for a last game, or five, of pool. He hadn’t just emptied his bowels into his diaper - he had been rather belligerent about it too, making an entire production out of bending over and loudly filling his pants. All fun and games, of course, until he learned - moments too late - that another couple had finally shown up to the campground and had thought to stop in the rec center at that exact moment. He thought of this as a very good memory. “You can still be my baby,” she said at last. He considered these words carefully, as their meaning wasn’t immediately discernible. He could interpret them as meaning that she had stopped wanting him to be her baby, and that she had since changed her mind and decided to allow for it again. Or, he could still be her baby - after whatever came next. That was it, he realized. Finality. An end loomed in the distance, and they were now talking about after. “Will you have other babies?” he asked. “Oh, maybe. If they want to be.” “Syd?” “Hmm, yes. I think so,” she said. “Really?” “I think they’re curious. Maybe it’s just because they think it would please me if they tried - and they’re right. But I wouldn’t doubt their own curiosity.” “Take some diapers home,” he said. “No, I don’t think so.” “No?” “Well, I mean, that was my original thought too. But maybe we get that nursery finished and I bring them here?” He laughed. “Yes, please. Let’s bring some purpose to that closet before Effie convinces me to make it a break room.” “What about you?” she asked. “No special ladies on the horizon that you want to change your diaper?” “I’ve got a little project I’m working on,” he said. “Though I don’t think she’ll be the Mommy type.” “No?” He shrugged. “We’ll see. But...if you and I can stay on good terms, maybe I can get your help?” She laughed at this, not even able to imagine what he had in mind. “When you need me, let me know. For now? What if we do something about this diaper?” “No,” he said. “It can hold more.” “So we’re going to sit here all night and wait until you think it’s full enough to change?” He shrugged. “What about this?” she said. “I’ll help you finish painting the Nursery. Then? You get a diaper change. And then we go home.” “Seems fair.” “So until we’re done painting,” she said, “do your worst.” She gave his diaper another squeeze, this time catching the tip of his firm shaft within. “Oh. I almost forgot about this.” “It’s not really your responsibility. I mean...you certainly don’t owe me any…” “Always such a chatty little boy,” she taunted. She reached around him with her left hand, pressing a thumb against his lips until he opened his mouth and let in. Her right hand slipped into the front of his diaper, grasping his shaft before gently stroking it. “Yow thon’t haff tah…” “When a thumb is in your mouth, Baby, you just suck on it. It means no more talking. Just let Mommy take care of you.” And when he finally came in his diaper, that was when they finished painting the nursery. He was absolutely sure that he’d never walk into that room again without thinking about this night.

Yep, that's how life goes.

So currently it seems I only have one diaper left in the pack... but it's a lucky diaper because I have been through so much stress since January's passport application, to VISA entry for Norwsy, Denmark and Finland for the month of June, that I need a stress reliever. Should be able to consider itself a very happy diaper by morning. This whole thing has been too much, although maybe that's because I haven't done it before.

I'm sorry for your loss, Eddie. I offer virtual internet hugs if you want them, and I hope it helps you get through today and the ones that follow. ❤️

Well I wipe my butt with the clean part of the diaper, wipe my butt with adult wipes from Northshore, roll the diaper up in a ball, put it in one of those diaper scented bags I get from Northshore, I take a shower, I spray the bathroom with febreeze if there is any lingering scent, and finally I throw the bag with the diaper into the garbage can.

I’m continuing to enjoy this story a great deal, although I’m not sure all of the change in Melanie is as positive as she thinks. It does happen sometimes that a teenager overcorrects when they realize they don’t have to be the person they’ve been—but I hope she makes a small correction in the other direction before the story concludes. As she’s currently acting I’m not sure she’d be the best influence on Georgie after all.

Big hugs Eddie!!!!?♥️?♥️? Your mom's finally at peace. And I KNOW she's looking down at you, thinking how blessed she was to have YOU for a son!??????♥️? You're a GOOD son Eddie!?????♥️??

Back when I was making around that, I looked into those handouts. I made about $500 a year too much. Dropping that $500 would have qualified me for about $400 in handouts. Single people with no dependents have few ways to lower their tax burden. On the other hand a young lady with a couple of kids was getting back about $5,000 on $0 taxes paid.

Yeah, Plus why would you want other people to KNOW anyway?!??? That just seems weird, from a common sense point of view.?????

I've read a lot of hypnosis stories in the past, but this is one of the very few, if ever, I've seen used to get a mommy out of the deal. Looking forward to seeing how everything else goes. The doctors visit could be a fiasco? Definitely can see the empty room is going to get some use as a nursery!

I finally decided to "take the plunge" and try some disposable diapers. I've always preferred cloth diapers and waterproof PUL pants, but wanted to see what disposable diapers felt like and how well they work. Have a case (12) of Rearz Little Squrts coming on Tuesday. Not sure about giving up on cloth though because it just feels so good.

I had my first meeting with my therapist last Wednesday. Everything went great! He is on board to engage with surgery being a treatment option, which is dependent on me finding a surgeon willing to do the surgery; all of this effort will mean nothing if I can't find a surgeon to help. Our appointment was done over a video call. From what I could tell, my therapist was around 35 to 40 years old, reddish brown hair and facial hair, and similar stocky build to me. He was friendly and easy to communicate with. I started off the appointment by giving him my story. I told him everything: I told him about my incontinent desires, my belief that it is BIID body integrity identity disorder, that I've been using diapers to cope, I've worn diapers 24/7 for the past 4 years, and I've gone to extreme measures by using catheters and stents to simulate incontinence temporarily resulting in multiple UTIs. I also told him about major positives that have come from my passion for diapers: such as finding a large community in my area that supports me, I met my husband because of my cloth diapers, and that I started a business crafting cloth diapers. I emphasized that these desires have been with me all my life, and with time, has only increased in intensity. I talked in detail how wearing diapers has not been enough and the desires have been so strong, it has caused me to take risks by using stents. I made sure he understood that the stents were homemade. I told him what draws me to stents is that when I'm using them, it's the only time I feel like my true self. I told him that I understood that the measures I'm taking by using stents is extreme and that from the outside, it looks crazy. I told him I wanted help and I wanted to stop. I want the desires to stop and I want to stop putting myself at risk from using stents. He was definitely interested about the stents. He was concerned it was always harmful but I explained that I have been using them for a decade and it was only on occasion that I would get an infection but most of the time I would wear it for a day or two before it got uncomfortable. When I had it in it was the only times I felt like my true self. It wouldn't matter where I wore it, the drive to be incontinent was strong so I wore it to vacations, to family events, and to work just so I could be myself. He wondered what prompted me to use them each time. I explained that when feelings of incontinence dysphoria become so intense, I turn to use the stents to relieve that pressure so that I could live and feel like myself. He said it sounded like I was using the stent to balance my intense desires. I found that was an interesting point because I never thought of the stent as a tool I was using to balance my emotional stress, even though that is exactly what I was doing. I talked to him about my experience with my first psychiatrist. I told him I thought it was important to go over what happened because it's going to be an issue with every doctor I face. The thing that my previous psychiatrist stated was she believed I would regret that decision a year or 10 years down the road. She also said she first must do no harm. I told him I don't believe there is any amount of therapy that could take these desires away. How long should I try therapy? A year? 10 years? If there's a duty to do no harm, how much harm are we preventing if we do therapy that may never fully addresses my incontinence dysphoria? I've been living with incontinence dysphoria for 35 years. It's driven me to use stents and put myself at risk over the last decade. I can't imagine living several more decades trying to achieve incontinence I know is going to be difficult if not impossible to achieve by myself. I told him about how there are others that have gotten this surgery. One of whom had the surgery recently and told me about a revelation I never thought of having: He says it's over. The desires, they are gone. It's been months since he's had the surgery and he says it's the best thing. It blows me away to think about that and to imagine feeling like I don't have to pursue the never ending chase to become incontinent because I'm finally, truly, incontinent. He talked a bit about how this was an unusual situation. He says this is never been done before that he's heard of but it sounds a lot like it could be paralleled with transgender surgery. In those cases he would help the patient prepare and accept the change with surgery, or if the patient wants, help being talked out of it. He says it sounds like I won't need guidance like that as it I've done a lot of the preparation on my own already. He said it sounded like I'm pretty prepared for surgery. He said he didn't think trying to talk me out of it was productive nor what I was looking for. He says he's on board for whatever treatment option becomes available and will help me address the desires in other ways in the meantime. The appointment overall took a long time. It was scheduled for an hour but we went over an extra 20 minutes. I assume it's a good thing because we are having a friendly conversation and he seemed really interested about me and my situation. At the end I had to remind him to tell me what he thinks I should work on between now and our next appointment since I wasn't sure when our appointment was going to end! Currently, he wants me to work on being mindful about my incontinent desires: he wants me to recognize that they're there, except that I can't do anything about them, but don't let my desires take my focus. During the times that I have intense incontinent desires, he wants me to do activities that will pull my attention away from those desires. So far I have not been able to be mindful of my incontinent desires. It's hard not to think about it because I can feel my bladder every time I pee. Almost every time I pee I am reminded that I am not incontinent. One of my most frustrating problems is being woken up by the urge to urinate. Most nights I have to pee two to three times, each time results in frustration and anguish from my desires to be incontinent and disappointment that I can't pee while I sleep. It's difficult to do an activity to distract myself from my incontinence desires at these times when the activity I should be doing is sleeping. Overall, I think the appointment went great. It seems like I didn't have to try at all to convince the psychiatrist to engage with surgery; He was willing to offer help whether I get the surgery or not. So, it's down to the very last major step: I need a surgeon. On July 12th, I have my first visit with the surgeon. What's exciting is that this surgeon works for a university hospital, which is also the region's largest trauma hospital. People from all over the world get flown in to be treated at this hospital. I know from my research about the surgery, this hospital literally wrote the paper on sphincterotomies. Add to that, my urologist says the surgeon he referred me to does sphincterotomies multiple times a year. I can only hope that I am successful is convincing this surgeon to help. On a side note: I linked this thread in reddit's sub r/abdl. The community there was vehemently against me getting surgery, claiming that me and my doctors were crazy and that I was making this story up. What's worse is I tried to engage with people and they would engage under the guise of concern while not listening to the points I make and would make judgements and assumptions against me, specifically to try to repel me away from the r/abdl community, as said as much in another thread here. It's interesting to see how much it upsets the community to have someone like me try to get surgery to become incontinent. They choose not to listen to my reasons and conclude that everything I say is wrong and that I'm simply crazy (I'm not saying I'm not crazy, I'm just not that crazy). So, if you're like me, and you find yourself getting surgery to become incontinent because of your incontinent desires, then be careful about the audience you tell it to, they may have a negative reaction and not understand.

Chapter 19 (Abby) Friends get in fights. Cousins get in fights. Cousins who are friends get in fights. Really not a big deal, unless you were in my situation that particular summer. I mean, Allison and I have always been close. For a while when she became a teenager and I was still a kid, we drifted apart a little, but other than that, we’ve been besties our whole lives. We’ve gotten in the odd fight, and we did what friends do when that happens: we stayed pissed for a couple days and made up. We both went into the weekend with an attitude, I think, but mine was at least justified. I always liked that Allie was my babysitter when I was little, and when I was in high school, it was great having her stay over when Mom went out of town. We had fun. Before Allison got old enough for that, we stayed with Aunt Lisa. What a shit show those times were. But the facts here were pretty plain: I was nineteen years old; it was my job to watch the kids; and Mom could dress it up however she wanted, but obviously she felt more comfortable with Allison over for the weekend. She said she thought it would be a nice break for me, but then she said Allison was in charge. What did that even mean? It couldn’t be both; it couldn’t mean ‘you’re an independent young woman who deserves some time away from wrangling kids’ and ‘she’s here to enforce the rules you can’t be trusted to follow.’ Maybe in Mom’s head it could, but not in mind. So yes, I was resentful at Mom, and I was resentful at Allie. And I wasn’t wrong to be. I still suspected she knew way more about what would happen under this spanking-instead-of-grounding arrangement than she ever let on. If she didn’t, then she was negligent. If Mom said this was supposed to be a break, that’s what I was going to do. But Allie had all the room in the world to decide what “in charge” meant, and she chose “on my case.” At least, that’s how I felt about it. On Saturday just after the kids were in bed, I said goodnight to Taylor at the door, and I just wanted to get in bed and binge watch something. “Goodnight,” I said to Allison as I walked past the kitchen toward my room. “Hang on a sec,” Allie said back. She couldn’t just say goodnight back. “What?” “Come talk for a sec.” “I would, but I’m tired and just wanna go to bed, so …” I was trying to be polite, and I was trying to just not have a conversation for both our sakes’. “It’ll only take a minute.” So I went into the kitchen and sat down, and she dried her hands on a dish towel and sat down next to me. She wanted to talk; surely she knew about what, but there was an awkward pause before she asked, “Is everything alright?” “It’s fine. I’m just tired.” “Well, I hope we have a fun day tomorrow.” Give her credit for being diplomatic if transparent. “Okay. I hope so, too.” And I had just started to stand up to say goodnight again when she dropped the diplomacy and outright asked, “Alright, why are you mad at me?” “I’m not.” “You’ve been rude since I walked in the door. I didn’t even do anything.” O fucking really? But I was still trying to be calm about it. I just wanted to end the conversation. In fact, I never even raised my voice. “You’re here. This was supposed to be my weekend alone with the kids, and then Mom asked you to come over, so how do you think that makes me feel? Yeah, you might say I’m not thrilled.” “Sorry you feel that way, but your mom didn’t say anything like that to me about it. She just said she was going on her trip this year and would I stay over. I just said yes. I’ve stayed over every time she goes out of town for, like, four years.” “And you didn’t put any thought into how that makes me feel. Ike Mom doesn’t trust, me, and you must think she’s right. I’m not a kid. I can watch the kids on my own; I can take care of myself. I don’t need you over here.” “I didn’t say you did, and I don’t know what your mom thinks. I didn’t think much about it; I stay over every year.” “But Mom told you you’re in charge, so what else could it mean that you just said, ‘Okay?’” “That I’d be in charge, but it’s not like I’ve been barking orders.” “You won’t leave me alone.” “Like when?” “Like right now! I just wanna go to bed.” “I just wanted to see if there was something I could help with. Figure out what’s bothering you so much and snap you out of it.” “That’s my point. You’ve been hovering. I can manage my own bad mood. I don’t need cheering up. I just need some space.” “Okay. Sorry. I didn’t mean anything by it. Just … be mad at your Mom, but I’m just doing what she told me to. I don’t deserve the attitude.” I think we reached détente. She said sorry; I was about to say sorry. It would’ve ended right there. She. Just. Had. To. Mumble: “You’re lucky you don’t have my mom with that attitude.” Now, I didn’t yell, like I said. I was irritated, then I was ready to walk away from it, and then she had to go and bring up Aunt Lisa. Yeah, it made me angry. It was exactly the kind of comment I expected to hear from Aunt Lisa, whatever her shady role in this stupid arrangement really was. I get that Allie said it because she was upset and didn’t mean it or even mean for me to hear it, but I did. Or maybe she did mean it. I don’t know. At least I didn’t yell. “That’s because your mother is bitch.” Seriously. A bitch. With a capital B, which stands for Bitch. “Alright, that’s across the line. Uncalled for,” Allie shot back. She didn’t raise her voice either. “Is it? What role exactly did she play in this stupid arrangement you talked me into? And why did you anyway?” “I thought it would help. You can’t stay out of trouble for more than week!” “I’m nineteen! I only get in trouble because of all these stupid rules. No rules, no trouble. I went two whole semesters without getting in trouble.” “If you don’t need rules, then why are your grades so bad? And why follow rules anyway? Huh? No one is making you. It’s because you know they’re good for you.” “It’s because I wanna live at home.” “So just follow the rules then! You’re mad at me because you keep getting in trouble. Take some responsibility for it; you talked yourself into the arrangement because you were trying to get out of the consequences of not following the rules.” “The summer is short, and I wanna see my friends.” “Again, just follow the rules. Don’t break rules, don’t get grounded. You made a bargain – you want to live here, you follow the rules. It’s not that hard” “You can be so fucking superior sometimes. Also just like your mother.” “What does that mean?” “You’re lecturing me about following the rules? You? The twenty-four year old who gets spanked is telling me I should follow rules? If you’re so great at it, then what the fuck are you and your mother even doing anyway?” “I’m self-aware enough to know it helps me to be accountable.” Really, too tired, and this was clearly not going anywhere. What was the point anyway? I was only getting angrier, and she was, too, so I said, “Whatever. Let’s … let’s just talk later.” “Hold on.” “What? What? Fucking what?” Again, I didn’t raise my voice. I may have whined, but since my version of events isn’t always the one that makes it into the history books, let’s just be clear that I didn’t throw some giant tantrum. “That.” “What?” “Language.” O. My. God. Really? She wanted to harp on me about cursing? I deserve a medal for not throwing a tantrum. I’m old enough to choose my own words, just like I choose to try to not swear around Mom because it offends her and only creates problems, and while I’m not a hundred percent successful, it’s not the end of the world, either. I closed my eyes and brought my hand to my forehead, took a short breath and let out a sigh. “Sorry.” If apologizing got me closer to bed out of that conversation, why not apologize? “Your mom told me you’ve been having trouble remembering not to swear this summer.” “And?” “And she told me she warned you last time you were in trouble if you did it again.” How am I the less mature of the two of us right then? “You’re gonna tell on me? Like we’re kids?” “Did your mom specifically remind you not to swear before she left?” She did, actually. “Did she tell you I was in charge and was going to enforce the rules?” She said that, too. Still, I just couldn’t believe that’s where we landed. “So you’re gonna tattle? Really?” She sighed and leaned forward. “No, Abigail, I’m going to enforce the rules like I said I would.” “No you are not. No you are fucking not. Just … I’m going to bed. Maybe you’ll be yourself again in the morning.” I stood up, and she stood up. “Then I have to tell your mom, and I’m guessing she’s gonna be pretty upset about this whole weekend.” “You’re my cousin. You are not punishing me for something that’s not even wrong anyway.” “I made a commitment to your mother, you knew that, and you told her you’d stop swearing, and she told you what would happen if you forgot again.” At first I thought she was being vindictive. We fought; I said mean things; she was pulling her trump card and abusing her alleged authority. If that were the case, I was ready to tell her to go fuck herself and I’d deal with Mom when the time came. What-the-fuck-ever. But something about her tone and the look in her eye caught my attention. It was actually a little horrifying. And definitely a symptom of her upbringing. She wasn’t being vindictive. She was being one hundred and ten percent sincere. I couldn’t even call her unfair, because she was being entirely fair. Strict, but fair. Just like her mom but without seeming to take any pleasure in it. Still, I had to try, so I said, “You’re just mad at me. You’re not even, like, bothered by it.” “Us fighting has nothing to do with it, and have you ever heard me curse?” Actually, no, I hadn’t. “And whether I’m bothered by it doesn’t matter. I told your mom I’d enforce her rules just like she does.” “But … she didn’t mean this!” “She did.” A long time ago, I noticed that when I take a test and know the question, I write bigger, literally. My handwriting is bigger, and my letters are smaller when I’m not sure. My voice does the same thing; I get quieter when I’m not sure. “But,” I said at half the volume I’d been speaking, “she couldn’t have.” “She explained to me exactly how she’s been disciplining you.” “I won’t let you.” “That’s fine. I’m not gonna force you. Your mom can deal with it.” I remembered how Mom dealt with it the last time I swore. It was like someone turned her nitrous system on the way she was swinging her hairbrush at my butt. I didn’t know how she’d react to me swearing and then not just accepting that Allie was in charge. Mom did me tell me not to swear, and she did tell me Allie was in charge, and she did tell me that she told Allie to enforce all the same rules the same way she does. Kind of a question of how much more trouble I wanted to bite off. “Do you have to?” That sounded a little more plaintive than I meant it to. “Sit,” she said, and I did. “Yes, I have to either do what I said I’d do, or I have to tell her. That’s what we were just talking about. I made a commitment, and I have to follow through. That’s me taking responsibility for what I said. Do you understand that?” I just nodded. “You’re not in trouble because we fought. You’re in trouble because you swore, and it’s against the rules. Do you believe that?” “But … then we can’t be friends anymore.” And I meant that, really. I wasn’t trying to get out of it. “Of course we can. You need a spanking to remind you to follow the rules. It’s just one friend helping another to fix a problem.” She was sincere about that, too. If she weren’t, I’d have just dealt with Mom, but it makes sense when you think about it. A spanking is such a common thing in her house; why would that change a relationship? She apparently thought I needed a spanking for most of my life, so to her, no, it wouldn’t change our relationship. I wasn’t so sure about it from my side of it, though. “But,” she said, “I can give you a choice. Your mother told that last time you swore, she said she was going to wash your mouth out and give you a spanking. Which would you rather do?” Part of me was having trouble paying attention. I kept replaying those conversations with Mom. She did threaten to wash my mouth out, and she did tell me she explained to Allison what the rules were and what the consequences were. She had downplayed it to avoid us getting into even more of an argument than we were having, but she said it. I just didn’t think, I mean, I guess I just didn’t think she meant it literally. What’s that everyone says nowadays? ‘Take me seriously but not literally?’ Guess I should’ve done both. I didn’t think I really had any excuses left. Allison was being the exact opposite of unreasonable. I’d be in a lot of trouble with Mom. I couldn’t say she didn’t warn me. And I didn’t want her to come home and directly into a problem; that’s not fair to her, and would probably have meant even more trouble. And I’ve had my mouth washed out with soap, and it lasts longer and is much worse. Still, I couldn’t say it, so instead I sorta squeaked out, “No soap.” I didn’t even have the presence of mind to ask for it to be over my pajama bottoms or to ask to go to the bathroom. If Mom told her that part, I guess Allie forgot in the moment. Not that I had to pee, but that I would’ve had the chance to take off the Goodnite I’d put on when I changed after getting home from the pool. It disappears pretty well under baggy pajama bottoms. “Okay,” Allie said, “Let’s do this, and then you can go to bed, and tomorrow will be a fresh, new day.” She motioned for me to stand, and it felt like sorta like an out-of-body experience. She pivoted her chair so it was facing out, and she gave a gentle tug on me so I was at her side, and then my pajama bottoms were down. She paused, and I remembered what I was wearing. A danger of them, I guess, getting so used to them that you forget you’re even wearing a pull-up. Kind of the idea also, but just then, if I could’ve been any more embarrassed I would’ve been. The last time Allie saw me in Goodnites was probably when I was six or seven. She’d seen my bare butt a couple weeks back, and that was preferable. She was about to see that, too. “We have to be really quiet,” I mumbled. The kids aren’t supposed to hear it. “I know,” she said. “Lay over my knee.” I was shaking, but at least she was letting me keep my front hidden until I was over her knee. Mixed blessing, though. I’d rather she see my front than touch my Goodnite. Least it was dry. There I was over her knee, clenching my teeth so I wouldn’t wake the kids. I grabbed the chair legs. I figured if she really were her mother’s daughter, this would be a nasty spanking even if she didn’t have a hairbrush or ruler or spoon. She left the Goodnite up for the first spank. It hurt through it, and around it, anyway. I thought she was just taking her time. I took it quietly and expected to be bare before she was done. I’m sure Mom told her that’s how I get spanked. It was a lot worse, a lot more childish, getting spanked through a pull-up. I definitely would rather she just bared my bottom, in retrospect. Her touching it at all would be embarrassing, but over her knee? Much worse. I was sort of eager for her to tug it down. “… and ten,” Allie said. I waited for her to tug the pull-up down. And waited. “You can get up.” Confused. Lot of emotions in general. She motioned for me to sit and then reached over and took both of my hands in hers. I had a lump in my throat the size of a softball and was barely audible. “Do you understand why you got that spanking?” “Because I broke the swearing rule.” “Not because we argued or because of your attitude. Do you believe that?” “Yes … but … That’s not how Mom …” “I know, but she’s not the one giving the spanking, so we did it my way. If I have to give you another one before she gets home tomorrow, it won’t be so gentle.” “I won’t break any more rules tomorrow.” “Good. And I won’t tell your mom, but I do think you should. It will show her you’re taking responsibility.” “She might get mad.” “She won’t. I’m sure she won’t. You got your punishment, and now it’s over … C’mere.” She leaned forward and gave me a very thorough hug. I wasn’t upset. Just a little overcome. With the spanking, but also how Allie really was, despite it all, being sweet about the whole thing; and with the weekend; and with the argument. We both made some valid points. I sat back, and she brushed a tear off my cheek. “All’s forgiven. You learned your lesson. Why don’t you go get ready for bed, and I’ll bring you a glass of water and we can talk a little more,” she said. “Okay.” I stood, and she reached down and pulled my pajama bottoms back up. “We’re still friends, aren’t we,” she asked. I nodded yes because I didn’t want to wake the kids.