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WBDaddy

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WBDaddy last won the day on December 14 2016

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About WBDaddy

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    39 and holding

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  1. As I said, the good news is, it seems to be changing over the last few years. AB-girls aren't unicorns anymore, and AB-boys are getting, well, less socially awkward. It's a process, right?
  2. The reason why the personals websites failed is the same reason DD had such an overwhelming male to female ratio for such a long time - women were nervous about coming to sites like that (or this) because there were so many voyeur and exhibitionist AB-boys who had never seen an AB-girl before that they couldn't control themselves. Thankfully, we're starting to evolve as a community over the last few years. Respect is a thing. Decorum is a thing. And yes, as much as we all cringe when it happens, the occasional spotlight on this community by television media has raised curiosity - but moreso it's further spread the message that "you're not alone with how you feel". It doesn't matter how creepy the talk shows portray us, because that feeling pales in comparison to the mortal fear that you have some sort of attraction to children that plagues your waking mind, the confusion and guilt about all the fantasies. Those feelings weigh on you like lead, and even sharing a common interest that you understand with weird people (like me, for example! ) is better than keeping one you're afraid of to yourself. Who knows? Maybe in a couple years someone will try again with an ABDL-centric social media platform and it will actually work. Heck, DD's already giving us Facebook Messenger here!
  3. It feels really good to have dusted off the old pen and really gotten back into the writing flow.  Here's hoping it continues.  1700 words in about two hours today was great.  I want to do that every day.

  4. Yeah, that'll do it.
  5. Half the fun is figuring it out.
  6. Every little one has an achilles heel regarding punishments, something they genuinely don't like. Mine hates the corner with a passion. Do anything else you want, but don't put her in the corner. Hence, when she's really acting up, guess where she goes?
  7. Of course we like you. I even gave you a cameo in the latest chapter of "Legal Issue".
  8. 17 "So, has little Rosie decided she's hungry enough to go out?" he finally asks. Truth be told, your stomach is growling a little. You wonder if he felt the rumble too. You look up and offer a big grin and an exaggerated nod. "Well then let's go get some chicken and fries for that empty little tum-tum!" he chuckles. He starts to slide you off his lap, but you latch onto his arms. "Oh, so we want a ride, do we?" "Uh HUH!" you chirp, offering the silliest, toothiest smile you can muster to drive home the point. It's too damned comfortable in his huge arms, and besides, as much of that medicine as you've taken today, you don't even want to know how wobbly your legs are. "Well how can I say no to an adorable little face like that?" he says as he gathers you up, stands, and settles you on his hip. Your bottom rustles noisily against his arm as he walks, slightly bouncing you in rhythm with his stride as he carries you out the door and to the car, buckling you in gently as you let out a contented sigh. This new head space you've discovered, or he helped you discover, is soothing all on its own; there's no anxiety here, and you find yourself noticing things about the world around you that you hadn't paid attention to for a very long time: the vibrant colors of the sky as the sun begins to set, brilliant red with dark purple wisps of clouds dancing through it, the feel of cool wind rushing across your face as Artis opens the windows in the truck, the smell of that fresh air coming out of the groves of trees as though they were exhaling it just for you. There's not even any dread as you arrive at the grocery store. You rest your head on Artis' shoulders as he carries you in, and instead of derision like at that horrible Littles store, the people that pass by offer smiles and waves and "Isn't she adorable?" And you play coy with them, hiding your face, then poking it back out with a wide grin, which just brings more delighted responses. When you giggle, the whole world around you revels in it. They ask how old you are, and Artis tells them over and over that you just turned three. And they believe him, and you get little tickles on your leg and scratches under your chin, and you just keep right on playing it up. Now your legs are dangling in the baby seat of the grocery cart as Artis pushes it through the store, your dress all bunched up around your waist. You're too busy pointing and laughing as Artis asks you to pick out food items and plays guessing games as to what exactly you want. It's too much fun to just thrust your arm out in a vague direction and giggle, then shake your head over and over again, your ringlets flying every which way until he gets it right. You're the biggest star in the grocery store right now, everyone in line of sight mesmerized by your little performance. By the time Artis starts toward the checkout line, basket filled with staple foods, but with plenty of little treats that you got by batting your eyes at Artis until he gave in, you've fallen completely into the role, bouncing and squeaking and playing peek-a-boo with anyone who'll join by covering your face with your hands. Another cart is parallel to you in the next checkout line, this one with what is clearly a Little, and a rather unhappy one at that, in the baby seat, her "mommy" scolding her while she snivels. Your heart goes out to her; you've been in that place before. No! You can't let this break the spell! Happy thoughts! Simple thoughts! You point to her and look up at Artis. "Bebe?" "Yes, baby." "Bebe cry?" "Yes, baby is crying." "Bebe go pee-pee?" "I don't know, maybe." "Bebe diaper change!" The mommy takes notice of the exchange. "Baby is being fussy because she wouldn't take a nap today," she answers. "She's a cranky baby, and she's going to get her supper and bath and straight to bed as soon as she gets home." "Ohhhh," you reply. Keep fighting it. Simple words. Simple thoughts. You grab your binky and tuck it into your mouth, determined to stay in the happy place. "Wozie went nap nap today!" Artis laughs. "Yes, Rosie took a good nap today, that's why she's so bouncy and happy now!" "See that, baby Kimmy?" The lady stares down at the little, who looks for all the world like she's trying to sink through the crossbars of the seat and into the floor, though her eyes are locked on you from behind her own pacifier. "Little girls who do what their mommies and daddies tell them are much happier than ones who fuss and whine and throw fits. See how happy she is? I bet her daddy doesn't ever have to spank her." "Oh, Rosie gets fussy sometimes, doesn't she?" Artis smiles. You shake your head hard, to bounce your curls around some more. "Nuh uh. Wozie good girl! Wozie not fussy baby! Kimmy fussy baby!" You point at the little, and she looks away. "Yes, that's right. Kimmy's a very fussy baby!" the lady agrees. "Your daughter is positively adorable! How old?" "She just turned three." The woman's face changes a bit. "And not potty trained yet? Tsk tsk." Damn her. Your turn to do the head drop. You blush in spite of yourself. "She will when she's ready, won't you, Rosie?" Artis smiles as he lifts your chin up. "We don't have to be in a big hurry to grow up, do we?" "Wozie not big girl?" You're trying to stay in character, but it's getting tougher, now that the focus is on the underwear you don't even need. Why'd he have to pick 3? If he'd said 2, no one would have cared. "Sweetie, you can be a little girl for as long as you need, and when you're ready, you can be a big girl too. Daddy loves you, no matter how big or little you are." He kisses your forehead, and suddenly that huffy lady with the adopted Little doesn't matter so much. You reach your arms up to him as the line shifts, and he chuckles as he hoists you up onto his hip. "Lub you Daddy!" you whisper, resting your head back on his shoulder. "Lub you too Rosie," he whispers back. The line moves forward, and a Tweener man appears, putting a divider behind the groceries on the conveyer belt and hurriedly emptying your cart behind it as the belt rolls forward. It's the first time you notice, all the front-end workers, baggers and cashiers alike, are all Tweeners, and they scurry around at maximum speed, occasionally glancing down to the end of the row. A huge Amazon, taller than Artis even, stands there, arms folded, scanning up and down the checkout lines. These people fear him, much more profoundly than someone just worried about keeping their jobs, and you can't help but wonder why. They're nothing like that horrible Tweener salesperson from the Littles baby store. They offer polite greetings, to each of the customers, but never make eye contact, constantly focusing on the next task, emptying a cart, filling a bag, loading bags into the cart, following the customers to their cars and loading the bags for them, then scurrying back to the store to return the empty one and find another job to do. Once Artis buckles you in, you can't help but ask. "Why were they all so scared, Daddy?" The toddler show is over, and your voice returns to normal, even though you remember your manners as you address him. "Who was scared, Rosie?" "Come on, Daddy, all the grocery clerks, they were terrified of that one Amazon watching them." "Tweeners who work unskilled jobs like that are usually on their last chance, Rosie. Some of them have been in jail, others have been fired from more prestigious positions for various reasons, be it slacking on the job, mouthing off to their bosses, or just general incompetence." "So... what happens if they get fired from there?" In your gut, you already know the answer. "As far as Amazons are concerned, if a Tweener can't be a productive member of society, then they're just like a Little, and they are sent off to become Littles and be adopted." "Wait, 'become' Littles?" "Yep. We have shrink rays and aging reversal nanites for that purpose, though their use is tightly regulated by Parliament. They're also used on Amazons who get in trouble with the law one too many times. I'd be willing to bet at least one of those Tweeners used to be an Amazon, and they're getting one last chance to behave themselves before they get sentenced to Etiquette School." "You mean, some of the Littles we saw could have been Tweeners or Amazons once?" "It's actually quite likely here in Candohar, considering the rules we have in place about importing Free Littles." "Free Littles... like I used to be..." "Yes, any Free Little adoption has to be registered with the national child welfare office, which must include paperwork signed by the Little or that Little's legal guardian at the time of the adoption. Which is why the scant few Free Little adoptions are typically cases like yours, where the parent, seeing the child as incorrigible, signs over the child's rights before they turn 20. Only on very rare occasions does an adult Little willingly sign that paperwork, and usually it's because they're in some other sort of trouble, and adoption is their only way out. They're in debt over their heads, or they're on the run because they committed a crime on their home island. Lots of different reasons, but none of them are ever good." You don't answer. No wonder adopted Littles are viewed so dimly here. Most of them earned their fate. All you did was refuse to marry someone you didn't even like, never mind love.
  9. We've been waiting over 6 months for WBD to find some creative energy to write anything. That said, I have been spending a lot of time just reading over these unfinished pieces, just to see if I can get back into the headspace and find a way forward from wherever the stick point was. Hoping something comes of it. I suppose if you wanted to make that "THE" little's island, it would be a woefully ironic name - the garden of suffering...
  10. Actually, in "Legal Issue", I was positing the idea that there were numerous small islands off a particular continent where "wild" Littles lived apart from the Amazons. I never intended to suggest it was the only "Littles Island". In fact, one of the Tweener smugglers made mention of needing to do another pickup on another island called Gethsemane (completely random on my part, no underlying intent).
  11. That wasn't a prediction, just an observation of how two plot components fit neatly together like that. *wink wink*
  12. Well, now we have another purpose for Mr. IT guy - to discover the video feed and show Fiona and Carol what horrible things are being visited upon poor little Aimee...
  13. But I lyk fapping to tha idee uv udult syze pamperz wit Elmo on tha frunt!
  14. Tracy was the daycare worker at Osmium