BabyStevie26

CHAPTER 1: Happy Homes BARGAIN BY BabyStevie26 CHAPTER TWO: Taste of the Good Life So, here I am, now officially a nineteen-year-old girl going on three. I have just agreed to the request of two people to try to understand their infantilist son by undergoing a month's worth of full-time baby treatment. Mommy and Daddy (as I am expected to call them now) started immediately. As soon as I said I agreed, they got going. My new Mommy led me to the bathroom and began undressing me as soon as we got in. Daddy walked in moments later with a adult disposable diaper and a dark red T-shirt. Mommy apologized ahead of time, as all the stuff they had was for a boy I'd have to make due for a brief time until some girl's clothes could be ordered for me. Mommy pulled off my ratty second-hand T-shirt and undid the bra. I covered my chest a bit and gestured nervously at my new daddy. "He'll be taking care of you just as much as I will." Mommy explained as sat me on the bathroom floor and started untying my shoes, "I'm not fond of it, myself. But it's best the both of you get used to this kind of situation so neither of you will be embarrassed by it." I couldn't help but notice then that he was blushing beet red at the sight of me. Trying not to look but at the same time not quite resisting. Mommy had a point, so I didn't fight when she pushed my arms away from my chest and lay them at my side. After my shoes and socks were off, she had me lift up so she could get to my pants and underwear. This is when I really began to blush. Not just from being completely nude in front of two people I'd just met. I'd been in the same clothes for a few days now, that included the panties. Embarrassing, but at least nobody commented on it. After the days-old panties were removed I noticed the sound of running water. Daddy had begun running a bath while Mommy undressed me. They helped me into the tub and began to bathe me, just as if I were a baby. Daddy put in some bath toys and bubbles while Mommy started washing me. Being on the streets for a while, I was a bit of a mess all around. The bath felt wonderful. The fact that other people were handling the scrubbing and cleaning only made it easier to relax for the first time since I got kicked out of the motel. "It feels like I'm at a spa..." I murmured as they worked. I thought I heard my new parents giggle, but I didn't care. Not about anything. Not at that time. I just laid back and let them do their thing. Eventually Mommy had me sit up so she could wash my hair. I snapped back to reality a bit her hands got caught in the mass of uncombed tangles my short head of hair had become. Daddy took advantage to start explaining some of the house rules to me. "Cady, as I said before, we will treat you no differently than we would any child of your, well, age." I nodded, remembering that, from this day on, I wasn't even three years old. "Most of the rules we'll just learn as we go. The basics though, Mommy and I have already figured out. "First and foremost, you will be diapered all day, every day. You will also be expected to use your diapers, with one exception. Mommy and I aren't all too thrilled at the idea of dealing with an adult's dirty diapers. And I'm sure you're not too keen on making them dirty." "Not re-ow!" I said as Mommy continued to wash my hair and caught a tangle. "We didn't think so." Daddy said as Mommy apologized, "So, while you're at home, you can use the toilet for that purpose. But you are only allowed to use the home toilet. If we are anywhere besides the house you're stuck with your diapers for whatever you need to do." I wasn't too sure I liked the sound of that. Mostly because, the way my luck often turned, I would almost certainly end up in exactly such a situation. I didn't look forward to having to hold it in for who knew how long. I looked forward even less to the possibility of having to soil myself in public. I nodded my understanding though. If those were the rules, then those were the rules, and I wasn't in much of a position to tell them to shove it. "Finally, just in case you get the idea that you can trick us into letting you use the toilet instead of your diapers, if Mommy or I put you on the potty and you don't have a bowel movement, then you'll be forbidden from using the toilet for the next twenty-four hours. Is this first rule understood?" I nodded. Simple enough, gotta pee in my diapers, can poop in the toilet, but only when at home. So as to not abuse that privilege, if I got on the pot and didn't go then I was stuck messing myself later. Daddy moved onto clothing next. When at home, I would be dressed exactly as a baby. Mommy started to go on about some of the cute girl outfits she'd seen while researching their son's baby clothes that they could get her. When she finished Daddy continued, saying that for the first few days, to help everyone adjust to the new situation a bit, I would wear only a diaper and a T-shirt (he held up the two items for emphasis). I assumed he was thinking of the "We gotta see it so we gotta get used to it" thing Mommy mentioned when me and Daddy got embarrassed earlier. For trips outside the house, adult clothes would be available, but they would still be somewhat childish in appearance. Cloth diapers or thin disposables would also be used for the sake of being discreet. I found it good to know at least they weren't going to make a point of humiliating me in public. He ended it by saying that all clothes I would wear would be decided by himself or by Mommy. As a baby, I had no say in the matter. If I didn't like it, Daddy said, I could just simply not wear anything. Despite sitting in a bathtub being washed by other people, I maintained just enough modesty to find that a suitable threat. Next up on the rule list was behavior. To put it simply, I was supposed to act like a baby. To put it into detail, I was to speak as little as possible. If I did have to speak, I was to make myself sound as childish as possible. I could roam the house freely for the most part, except that Mommy and Daddy would put up baby gates at doors to rooms I wasn't allowed in. Obviously, baby gates would do little to stop a girl who was just shy of five and a half feet, but it was more for boundary marking than anything. Punishment for misbehavior consisted mainly of a following of the idea that "if you can't obey by choice, that choice gets taken away." If I spoke out of turn or back-talked, I'd have a pacifier stuck in my mouth and strapped on so I couldn't remove it. If I were caught somewhere I wasn't supposed to be, I'd be confined to my room and/or my room's corner. And so on and so on. As all this made its way into my head, Mommy finished washing me and began to drain the tub. While I was being toweled off Daddy (currently blushing about as much as I was) asked if those basic rules would be acceptable. "Sure, I guess." I replied. Nothing there sounded outrageous. It was almost a walk in the park, so long as I behaved as expected. "Good." Daddy said, "In that case, we'll go over the financial details in the morning. For now, let's get you ready for bed." I was about to complain it wasn't very late. Then figured, if I was a baby, I had a baby's bedtime. So I didn't resist when Mommy laid me down on the bathroom floor. She put a bundled up towel to pillow my head so it didn't sit on the linoleum. She took the disposable diaper Daddy had brought in and unfolded it. As she had me lift my bottom so she could put it on I knew this was it. For the next month this (diapering, wiping, powdering) would be a regular occurrence. I started to have second thoughts as Mommy helped me sit up and started putting on the red T-shirt. They faded fast, though, as I decided to wait and hear about the "financial details" before I made any final decisions about committing to this or backing out. It'd give me a chance to get used to wearing diapers a bit as well as get an idea of what kind of treatment I could expect from this very unusual arrangement. I was taken back to the nursery, there was a noticeable bit of extra noise when I moved now, courtesy the plastic on my diaper. It was somewhat thick too, I wasn't waddling or anything, but my legs were just a little further apart than I was used to. Mommy led me to the nursery and told me to wait there a moment while they got me something for bed. While they were gone, I happened to catch sight of myself in a mirror that was right next to the door. Aside from the diaper just ever-so-slightly peeking out below the hem of my T-shirt, I looked about as normal as I ever did. Brown hair, blue eyes, medium height, slightly less-than-average build. Actually, on second look, I appeared to be better than normal. Probably because I'd just gotten out of a relaxing warm bath and that it had been my first for a few days. My light brown hair, which went down to just past my shoulders, was clean for the first time in a while and almost seemed to shine. It smelled too, seeing as Mommy had used some baby shampoo that was scented. But it was a nice smell. One I could get used to very quickly. Mommy and Daddy came back into the room after little more than a minute. In Mommy's hand was a slightly larger-than-normal baby bottle. The nipple was bigger too, better suited to an adult's mouth than a typical baby bottle nipple. I watched as Daddy let down the bars on the crib so I could climb into it. He put them back up right away and Mommy handed me the bottle through the bars. She asked if I wanted a story. When I replied no, she just gave me a kiss on the forehead and wished me a good night. I laid there in the near dark (lit up slightly by a night light) and looked at the bottle. I couldn't remember the last time I'd gone to sleep with a ba-ba. Curiosity getting the better of me, I tentatively tried sucking on the nipple. Inside the bottle was warm milk, which tasted quite good, really. I don't remember how long I drank for, but I know that, before I was midway through the bottle, the warm milk had taken effect and I was out cold for the remainder of the night. NEXT CHAPTERS

Good thinking. Keep it simple.

Maybe there could be a new category or two for people who are just looking for friends, as opposed to "Male seeking Male" or "Female Seekign Male", etc. You could do "Male seeking Friend" or "Female seeking Friend" or simply "Seeking Friend." This way, ABs who aren't out for an actual relationship, but just other AB/DL to talk to/hang out with have a place to go without there being any potential mix-ups or misunderstandings about desires or preferences.

I liked to draw when I was real little and I remember drawing pictures fo me in diapers or babies in diapers. I've also been told that I used to try peeking up a little neighbor girl's dress to see her diapers. I also know I sometimes found diapers (like some old ones I outgrew) and try to wear them. In later years I realized the need for discretion and started using towels as make-shift diapers (using eithe rpins or a belt to keep it in place). When I was about 17-18 years old, my mom and I started taking care of my grandma. In the months just before she passed away, my grandma's control went out the window an dmy mom, finally fed up with the cleanups, got diapers to use on her. When I was alone I mustered the courage to finally wear an actual, honest-to-wetness disposable diaper that was a bit tight but fit all the same. Since then, I buy diapers and hide them until I'm in the mood to wear and I'm alone (or with other ABs)

BARGAIN BY BabyStevie26 CHAPTER ONE: Happy Homes Here's a question to end all questions. Which would you consider worse? The fact that I was currently lying in a giant crib in a wet diaper at six in the morning; or the fact that I am quite possibly far better off here than where I was not even a full month ago? How is either choice even possible, you may ask? Well it's easy. My parents were scum of the earth. Simple as that. They never really wanted me, and said as much on every occasion they could legitimately think to say so. And even did so for absolutely no reason whatsoever. They weren't abusive. Not in the physical sense, anyway. However, from the moment I could walk I was more a servant than a daughter. Something had to be done, it was my job. House a mess? Call Cady. Grocery shopping need doing? Call Cady. Mom and dad get drunk and vomit all over something they shouldn't have? Call Cady. That was my life. My only refuge was school, which I threw myself into as much as I could. Extracurricular activities, a sport or two, causing a bit of trouble to once in a while land in detention, but not too often that the faculty would feel obliged to call home. Anything to keep me from having to go home for as long as possible. As soon as I was old enough, I got myself a part-time job flipping burgers to earn money. The logic was that I could build up the cash to eventually leave the folks' house and get out there solo. I hadn't thought far enough ahead to consider college or more work or what. At that moment my top priority was simply "get the hell out of that house." I kept the job all through high school and made it full time after graduation. It was shortly after graduation, a month and a half ago, in fact, that I had finally decided I had enough to leave. I would have been fine, were it not for one major problem. Actually, make that two major problems. With my folks being what they were, I was, of course, smart enough not to keep my money hidden inside our apartment. I opened a savings account and kept it there with only a small emergency fund of cash kept in my locker at work. I was a minor at the time and needed parental permission for the account. Fortunately I had managed to slip the proper forms to them using the old trick of having them think they were signing a permission slip (they never paid attention, so it wasn't difficult). However, I made the mistake of underestimating them. One night they had come across my purse and rifled through it, seeking a few extra booze bucks stumbled upon my debit card. It's no great feat to guess what happened next. Next time I check my account, what should it say except zero dollars and zero cents. They took me for everything I had, which was actually quite a bit. It was mostly my own damn fault, though. Because I had never had my account updated after turning eighteen, they had full access. All they had to do was go to the bank and there it was, enough money to keep them drunk for a solid week. When I confronted them, they didn't even attempt to deny it. Finally fed up, I put in my two weeks' notice and, when it ran up, took my emergency fund as well as the money I had earned in the two weeks, and just high-tailed it out of that town. I didn't even go home that day after work. I took nothing with me except the money in my purse and the clothes on my back. I don't know how long it took them to realize I was gone and I didn't really care at the time. In hindsight, I probably should've gone home at least for some extra clothes. Regardless, that's how I eventually wound up at their house. Well... more accurately, and sadly, their dumpster. I had been out on the streets on my own for three weeks, and I was near starving. I had stretched out my emergency fund as long as I could while I job hunted. However, the basic necessities, such as food, clothing and shelter (in the form of fast food, second-hand stuff, and a beat-up Bates motel wanna-be) added up. By that time, who wouldn't be looking wherever they could for whatever they could get. He had come out first. He wasn't armed or anything, he'd later tell me he thought I was a raccoon and that he'd planned to just shoo me away. But as soon as he saw I wasn't a raccoon he called out to another person, who I later learned was his wife. My instinct was to bolt and get the hell out of there before they called the police or something. But when they offered a hot meal I couldn't refuse. I didn't know it then, but going into that house would change my life forever. --------- At first, I didn't care about anything except chowing down on the food that was offered. The whole "don't take food from strangers" rule adults that actually weren't my parents had hammered into me growing up was completely gone from my mind. It wasn't until after I'd eaten that I began to wonder if eating the food was a good idea. But nothing felt wrong, so I guess I was okay. I sincerely thanked the couple and got up to leave when they pushed me back into the chair. They insisted I at least stay the night. "No, I couldn't possibly impose any more." I insisted. I was worrying just a little now. But, as nobody had made any overtly hostile movement, I tried not to let it show. "You don't have a home, do you?" the man asked. He sounded as though he already knew the answer. "Um... no..." I said, blushing and suddenly admiring the floor. "Or money?" the woman asked. "Nope." I answered. I noticed the couple share an odd look and nod to one another. "What's your name, dear?" the man asked. "Cady." I replied. "Cady, we have a proposal for you. If you follow through, it might solve both your problems, and ours." "Yours?" I wondered. "Yes, we need some help concerning our son." the woman told me. "Whoa!" I said, suddenly sensing where this is headed, "I'm not marrying anybody or anything like that!" The two looked a bit surprised, but they kept their cool. "That isn't what we need from you." the man explained. "Though you might have the same reaction when we tell you what we do want." the woman warned. That was ominous. Despite that, I was curious. I agreed to at least hear them out. "We and our son have been estranged for just over two years now." the man began, "The reason for this is that we had a hard time accepting something he told us back then." "He had a very, um, unusual hobby." said the woman, "He'd done a good job of keeping it secret. We honestly never suspected a thing while he lived with us. One day, for some reason, he decided to stop keeping the secret. He sat us down, and told us what it was he was keeping." "We didn't take it very well at all." The man continued, "We called him all sorts of horrible things. Freak being the least of it." "Ouch..." I blurted out, "What possessed you to act that way? Granted, I just met you, but you seem nice enough people." "Yes, well, we'd always had high expectations of our boy." the woman said, "That might have been part of what caused it." "Caused what exactly? Was he gay or something?" I asked. I have a curious nature, and all this skirting the issue was whetting it nicely. "If only..." the lady muttered, "Perhaps its best if we just show you." With that the two led me to a room in the house's upstairs. The opened the door and led me inside. I was shocked silent when he turned on the light and I got a good look inside. My mouth hung open as I stared at the sight. Inside the soft-carpeted room, next to pastel blue wall straight accross from her, was a baby's crib bigger than any I'd ever seen. To my left, up against the wall there was a large desk. Though it unusually low to the floor and lacked any space to put a chair under and instead was lined with shelves containing... "Woah..." I muttered as I saw what was stored in what I now knew was no desk. It was lined with diapers, both cloth and disposable. Adult sized diapers, both cloth and disposables. I also saw, for the cloth diapers, large plastic pants. It was an adult-sized changing table! In a corner between the table and the crib was a normal sized rocking chair with what looked like a baby bottle warmer on the nightstand next to it. In a nearby electric socket there was a nightlight in one and a child-proof socket cover in the other. On the third wall I saw a good sized toy chest as well as other playthings scattered around it. Every single one of them was clearly intended for a very small child. I was stunned, to say the least. Surprisingly, only one question really stuck out in my mind. "How in the hell did he keep this a secret?!" "He didn't." the father answered, "Everything here is our doing. We had it custom built and modeled his old bedroom into a nursery." "But... why?" "He's an adult baby." the mother answered, "A grown man who enjoys acting and being treated like a baby." Wow. I'd heard of some odd stuff, but this definitely took the cake. to think that somebody would live in a room like this willingly. By choice, even! With a sudden sinking of my gut, I had a thought about what this couple wanted from me. "Just how to do you expect me to help you with your problem?" "Well," the father replied, "We've tried for the past two years to understand this... liking of his. This room was part of that. We tried diapers ourselves, but we just couldn't get what he enjoyed about it." I was suddenly hit with the image of these two middle-aged folk running around diapered. Weird, but almost cute. "What we hope you can help us with," the mother continued, "is to try and understand what we cannot." "You mean, you want me to wear diapers?" They nodded. "And act like a baby?" They nodded. "And be treated like a baby?" They nodded. "Wouldn't it make more sense to talk to someone who already likes this stuff?" They shook their heads. The mother answered. "We considered it. Talking to another adult baby after we so cruelly disowned our own son, it felt like a betrayal. We couldn't bring ourselves to do it. Instead, we came up with another idea. Have someone who had no interest beforehand to live as an adult baby. If they liked it, maybe they could understand just what it was he loved. Once we can understand that, maybe we can really reconcile with our baby." "Cady," the father said, "if you agree to this, you will become a baby of this household for approximately one month. We will be Mommy and Daddy, and you will be considered a child no older than three years of age. In exchange for this, we will be forever in your debt. We'll gladly provide you with a good sum of money that should allow you to start a life in just any place you wish. Cady, are you willing?" Was I willing?! I think the better question was "Am I so desperate for a little food, clothing, and shelter (in the form of toddler meals, diapers, and a nursery) that I would actually agree to two total strangers' request to relive my toddler-hood?" Aw, who was I kidding? "I am!" I proclaimed. Mommy and Daddy looked at one another and smiled. NEXT CHAPTER

Hi. I'm a 22/M AB in California. I'm always up for new chat buddies who like the same kind of tings I do. Thoguh, to be honest, I'm not much of an online gamer (Tried Final Fantasy XI that was about it). I've always been mroe used to console games. I'm also int o anime & manga (Japanese cartoons & comics) if that matters.

Some of my clearest memories took place when I was at a friend's house. One I was there with him and his toddler brother had a dirty diaper. We looked inside and saw the mess. Another time I was with him and tried putting on a diaper there (dunno if it was his or his brother's). I was caught by his mom and sent home. Third was another kid's house, he was still in diapers while I had underoos and we switched off and played in his room until my mom caught us. I forget, in the two instances I was caught, how, or even if, I was punished. It's also worth mentioning tha tmy family's told me that, when I was little, I'd often try to peek up a neighbor girl's dress so I could see her diaper. And I once somehow convinced my mom to buy diapers for me after I was potty trained. I put them on my stuffed animal toys but I also tried ptuting them on myslef. (though I remember I hadn't taken size into accoutn so they didn't fit well). My family doesn't know I like them now but have remarked that when I was little I was all but obsessed with diapers. In fact, I think the only reason I toilet trianed early was to be like my big brothers.

Nobody who isn't AB/DL already knows I like diapers. Personally, I think I'd prefer to keep it that way since I dnt' see why anybody else whould have to know. The only person I would tell is my girlfriend, but right now I'm still too unsure of her potential reaction to attempt it.

Another fantasy I've sometimes had is where I'm living in an apartment with a roommate. He/she lets me stay really cheap (if not just free), but only on the condition that I be his/her baby. I'm kept in diapers 24/7 and must use them for everything. Fortunately, when I have to go to work, I'm allowed to use pull-ups or those Depend "readjustable undergarments" and can use the potty for #2's. Immediatelt upon returning home, though, I'm taken and changed into disposable or cloth diapers/plastic pants and if I gotta go that's where it'll wind up. Day-to-day at home, I'm essentially a baby. I can talk grown up and have big person conversations with mommy/daddy. But aside from that s/he feeds me, clothes me, bathes me, disciplines me, etc. While there are baby outfits available, most of the time I wear only a t-shirt and diaper to make it easier to check my diapers for pee-pees or poopies. I sleep in a big-person bed, thoguh I'm supposed to treat it as a crib that I can't get out of unless someone lets me out.

My personal single-moment fantasy (i.e. a single experience I'd like to have) I'm diapered and playing with some toys. As I play I'm hit with the all-too-familiar urge. I get up off the floor just enough to squat and wet & soil my diapers. I sit back down to play and do so contendly until a mommy or daddy (on this regard I'm not exceptionally picky) comes in and catches a whiff of my pants. He/she walks over and pulls back my diaper's waistband to check and make sure before I'm taken to my room/nursery to be changed into clean diapers.

Hi, I'm a straight, 22 year old male AB/DL living down in Fullerton, California. I've posted a few times here alerady (mostly in the polls & a TV diaper reference) but thought I'd track down the formal intro thread and post. Diaper-wise, I like to wear whenever I possibly can. Though my living situation usually prevents this. I have a girlfriend, but she doesn't know yet. I like to both wet and mess my diapers and, above all else, enjoy being changed. My own personal little fantasy is to have mommy or daddy (not picky on this matter) pull back my diaper's waistband and find me messy. Besides diapers, I'm a huge fan of fantasy and sci-fi, as well as anime & manga (Japanese cartoons & comics). My current favorite series is called One Piece by Eiichiro Oda. I'm also a Star Wars fan. On the side I've done some writing as well, mostly just fanfiction but I do have one diaper story to my credit and have a couple of original ideas for stories I hope to follow up on. I probably won't post the diaper story though, all the DD stories seem to be all adult and the main character(s) in this tale is a mid-teen girl and her friends. So this might not be the appropriate place for it. I'm interested in meeting other AB/DLs. Particularly any close to my own age with the same interests mentioned above. Maybe even in my own general area, though I know how unlikely that is. On a side note, is the signatur I have at the moment too big, you think? If so, I might take out and/or replace the One Piece quote with something else.

Wasn't it Luvs that did the blue andk pink diapers? I hope so, otherwise I chose the wrong one...

I voted "always" because, really, that's the only time I can wear diapers. I live with people who don't know and so I rarely (read: ever) get the chance to wear while at home.

I live in the Anaheim / Fullerton area and I've been interested in meeting other AB/DL's too (Primarily so I can hang out somewhere while diapered [i never get to at home]). My e-mail is babystevie26@hotmail.com