Cute_Kitten

No cookies, not fair! 🙁 There have been times in my past where I couldn't afford a copay on a prescription- actually had to borrow money for it, and that was with health insurance. I've seen a lot of commercials on TV for a website called Good RX which is supposed to help find discounts/ coupons for medications. I haven't tried it myself, so I can't say anything about it, but just thought I'd mention it! Has anyone tried it?

Going 24/7 isn't the same as becoming dependent, but it does let one see what it's like to wear (and use) diapers all the time in their daily life. It can't fully simulate incontinence, but it does let one see how they'd psychologically and emotionally feel about being padded all the time. Some people find they love it and want to fully become diaper dependent, while others can find it's not what they'd thought it would be.

Since you said you already did you research, I'd suggest a trial period and go 24/7 for an extended length of time as an experiment to see if this is something you'd like to pursue in the long run.

Very excited about this! I love the purple Lites, but more absorbency in colors is a nice option! Definitely will be ordering some!

A diaper and an oversized t-shirt, maybe socks if it's very cold out.

Oooh, a powerhouse combo! It's gonna be an awesome panel, best of luck to all of you! Makes me wish I was going so I could meet everyone!

I've had a few creepy, out of the blue PMs over the years. Mostly I just delete, ignore, and block. If it's excessively rude or offensive then I'll report it and carry on with life. It sucks that people feel it's okay/ find amusement being a jerk but it's the internet. They're not worth my emotional energy to get upset over.

Oh, I loathe writer's block. Even when I'm busy/ productive it can hit like a runaway semi hitting a brick wall. I care about the quality of my stories- I try my best to make them engaging via an interesting plot and fun characters instead of cutting back on effort, rushing myself, and churning out hot garbage. Some things I've found helpful when I hit writer's block and don't know what to happen next are to go back and reread the story. I pay attention to the physical and emotional plots- things like what's going on, and why. What are the character conflicts? (With each other, and with themselves). From there I'll play the "what if" game if I have no idea what direction to go in, "what if X happens? What's the worst thing that could happen- and should I put that in? Does it flow with the overall arc of the piece?" Or if I know how I want the story to end, I figure out how to get from point C to Z.

And no one saw it coming today. 🤡

This is a very, very old story I never got around to reposting. I'm embarrassed to claim I wrote this because it's so bad. But it's also a good laugh from long ago, so I thought I'd repost it and share the amusement. Watch out for the plot-holes galore. 😆 WHO’S THE BABY NOW CK CuteKitten “Mom, I’m 13- I don’t need a babysitter!” Damien argued yet again as he stood with his mother on the front porch, waiting for his father to bring the car and for the babysitter to arrive. His mother fussed with last minute details of her make up and rather revealing costume. “I know what a big boy my little man is. Of course I trust you, sweetie. It’s the rest of the world I don’t trust.” She patted the top of his head placatingly. “Moom!” Damien sighed in exasperation. He’d have better luck arguing with a brick wall. His parents usually let him have his own way, but his mother labored under the delusion he was perpetually nine years old and in Kindergarten. She even insisted on driving him to school, but since showing up at school in a flashy red sports car impressed his much older classmates and cut down on the teasing, Damien let it slide. He was one of those smart kids who had skipped several grades. “‘Aww, baby, don’t be upset! Mommy won’t be gone long- I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. This party is very important for Daddy’s business. Now, you be a good boy and Mommy will bring you home a present.” Damien rolled his eyes and suppressed the urge to bash his head off the porch railing. His mom was impossible to talk to, and his father only pulled his nose away from his phone long enough to mumble “listen to your mother.” So on this warm Halloween afternoon, Damien was stuck with a babysitter. Probably some bubble-gum chewing bimbo who would spend all night on the phone and ignore him. Well, on the bright side at least he could sneak out and go to the party he’d been invited to. He stopped glaring and smirked to himself. Still, it would be easier to go if he didn’t have a babysitter at all. “Sweetie, don’t give me that look. You’ll be completely safe with your babysitter. He’s a very serious, responsible young man and he goes to your school. Ah, there he is now, just in time. Hey, Scott!” Damien’s eyes widened and his stomach knotted in dread at his mother’s words. Scott did, indeed, go to Damien’s school. They were classmates in a few classes. Scott was not mean enough to be called a bully but he definitely did not make Damien’s life any easier. “NOO!! MOOOM! NOT HIM, NOT HIM!!!” His mother wasn’t listening. His father pulled up and honked the horn, impatient to be off before they were late, and his mom left in a flustered rush just as Scott approached the porch. “Scott, there’s a list of emergency numbers and instructions by the phone, and pizza and pop in the fridge.” Damien’s mom whirled on her seething son, snatched him to her and smothered his face in kisses. “Bye bye baby! Be a good boy! Mommy will miss you!” Damien spluttered and jerked free, face red in embarrassment and covered in pink lipstick. He caught Scott’s laughing gaze and glared at his mother, but she was already gone. The car rolled down the drive, past Scott’s weathered, dented and rusted clunker. Damien crossed his arms and glared up at the much taller male. “I don’t need you here. Go away.” Scott just chuckled. “I need the money. Not all of us are spoiled, rich babies like you.” “So? Just get lost and come back tomorrow. Or I’ll pay you myself, if you need the money that bad.” “Paid off by a 13 year old? I don’t think so. Besides, I wouldn’t miss this chance to spend time with my favorite little buddy. Don’t want you crying for your mommy or anything, baby boy.” The 17 year old sauntered into the large, posh house, looking around and making himself at home. “Besides, I promised your mommy I’d watch her pwecious wittle baby.” He added in a mock coo. Damien loathed being treated like a little kid. Being a 13 year old in high school didn’t help. He was smarter than those idiots, but younger and inexperienced compared to his classmates, and Scott never let him forget it. Damien let several of the popular kids copy off him- if he didn’t, they’d pound him into mince meat. That had been Scott’s idea. Scott felt extremely insulted to have a baby in the same class and grade as him. So he teased and picked on him. Grinding his teeth together and slamming the door shut, Damien followed Scott into the house. He could not- would not- endure an entire night of the bigger boy teasing him. He put up with it enough at school. In class. In the halls. In the cafeteria. Even in the bathroom. It was almost as bad as being in middle school again, and Damien would NOT put up with it this weekend. “At least tonight isn’t totally ruined.” He thought out loud. Scott was popular and he was invite to Laura’s party, too. “But when we get to the party, I’m totally ditching you.” Damien stormed into the kitchen. Laua had invited Damien when he let her cheat off him during a test. “There’s not going to be a party.” Scott helped himself to the fridge, munching on a cold piece of pizza while reading several pages of notes in Damien’s mother’s neat handwriting- the instructions she’d left for Damien’s care. “What? B-but Matt and Ryan are coming over. We’re all going to the party. Surely you’re invited too!” “No. Costume parties are stupid. They’re for babies.” Scott looked at Damien. “Well, I guess you’d enjoy it since you’re just a baby. But your mommy said you’re not supposed to go anywhere.” Damien’s one night of fun, free from his mother’s suffocating clutches, vanished as if Scott swallowed his plans along with the pizza. Damien opened his mouth to snarl a reply but saw /Scott holding up a yellow bib, sippy cup, and slice of cut up pizza. “What the hell is that?!” Scott smiled. “Your mommy left these sitting on the counter. So I assume they’re yours, wittle baby.” Damien felt his face grow hot. “Those are my baby cousin’s. My aunt comes over here all the time.” He swept the pizza, bib, and sippy cup to the floor, leaving Scott to curse and clean up the mess. Damien raced up to his bedroom, taking the stairs two at a time. He slammed the door shut and leaned against it. His breath came in ragged, angry gasps. He’d show Scott what it felt like to be belittled and humiliated all the time. The jerk deserved a dose of his own medicine. Damien smirked. He was going to deliver; he wasn’t a boy genius for nothing. A boy genius whose parents indulged and smothered. His father had even given him his own chemistry set made up of leftover and extra equipment from his scientist uncle’s lab. Damien had been working on his own top-secret formula. Well, he had found the majority of the formula scribbled down on forgotten notes mixed in with his uncle’s old stuff, but Damien had been playing around with it, modifying, tweaking and perfecting...a youth potion. And he’d found the perfect guinea pig to test it on. Grinning like a Cheshire cat, he dove under his bed, rummaged around and pulled out the green powder in a glass test tube and rubber stopper. Feeling triumphant and vindictive, he raced back down the steps but couldn’t find his tormentor. Maybe Scott left something in his car. Damien hurried outside. Scott was not there. The sun started to set on the shortening autumn days. The party would be starting soon and his buddies would arrive. He shivered in the cool breeze. A menacing growl erupted from the lengthening shadows. Fear shot down his spine and he gasped, turning to see the neighbor’s Rottweiler approaching him, head lowered and long, sharp teeth bared. Shaking, Damien backed up as the huge, vicious dog approached. Terror constricted his throat and his tongue felt dry; he couldn’t call out for help. The vial slipped in his cold, clammy fingers. The dog lunged. Damien fumbled with the cork then tossed a pinch of green sand into the air. It fell into the dog’s open mouth, then a small, warm, squirming body hit into his chest. Damien laughed with relief, picking up the tiny, cuddly puppy that licked at his hands. The youth formula was a failure because it reacted with the body’s chemistry too fast and too much, rewiring it completely. It turned back the hands of time years instead of just erasing wrinkles. He sat the puppy down and left it to fend for itself- the dog had attacked him, after all. He had no sympathy for it. Its owners should be along soon once they realized it was out of the yard again, anyway. He began to hunt for Scott again. “Here you are, squirt. Next time come when I call instead of making me hunt through that fucking huge house for you.” Scott frowned down at Damien and thrust a pair of pjs and one of his little cousin’s diapers into Damien’s chest. “The instructions say you need to get ready for bed.” Damien’s fist clenched around the vial as his face reddened. He glared daggers up at Scott. “I already told you, this is my cousin’s-” Scott cut him off. “What? Need me to put your diapee on you?” He jeered and slurped a can of pop. Damien’s reply was cut off by Scott’s phone ringing. The babysitter flipped his phone open then turned and went back into the house and set his pop down on the coffee table. Damien followed. Scott had his back to his ward. “No, I”m not going. I told you, it’s stupid. Uh-huh. Watching the class baby. The only place he’s going is bed. Yeah, can you believe he still wears diapers to bed?” That was a low blow. Damien glared at Scott’s broad back, threw the diaper and pjs to the floor, and poured a little potion into the can. Scott snapped his phone shut and picked up his drink back up. “What are you smiling at?” Damien stayed quiet and just shook his head, grin growing as he watched his babysitter drink. Like the formula had with the dog, it worked quick, reacting to the chemicals in Scott’s adult body. As he walked into the living room, Damien followed and watched him shrank. He tripped over his suddenly very baggy pants as they slipped down his hips. “Hey! What the fuck?” His voice cracked, eyes wide. He turned to face Damien only to discover they were now the same height. “What did you do?!” Damien’s gleeful smile stretched from ear to ear. “Hey Mr. Big-shot, is it possible for things to grow younger?” Scott’s growing panic momentarily fled enough for him to sneer and scoff. “Of course not!” “Then why are you shrinking?” Scott gasped- hearing the words forced his mind to accept the unbelievable, shocking reality of what was happening to him. He shrank down to the size of a toddler. “NO! Make me big again! Now!” “No way, you’re getting what you deserve.” Damien’s tone was full of satisfaction. “Make me big! Fix it now!” Damien laughed when Scott stomped his little foot. His shoes, socks and pants fell off and his very baggy t-shirt hung off one little shoulder. “Now! I wants be big now! Fix it!” Scott burst into tears. “Peeze! Fix now! Make me big boy!” He whined, falling completely into a two year old’s tantrum while Damien cracked up, laughing with vengeful glee. He taunted, “Who’s the baby now? I bet my cousin’s diaper would fit you. Should we try it?” At this, little Scott just cried harder. The echoing ring of the doorbell broke Damien’s revenge. He left the wailing toddler in the living room to let Matt and Ryan in. Excited with his own genius and plans for ultimate humiliation, Damien quickly filled his unwitting cohorts in on his scheme. Ryan was suitably impressed but Matt frowned at Damien. “That’s impossible. You’re yanking our legs. Well, I’m not going to fall for your stupid prank. You really need to grow up. Maybe then your mommy wouldn’t treat you like a baby.” The tall boy’s tone carried a slightly mean and taunting edge. Matt often shot his mouth off without thinking, landing himself in hot water. Ryan snickered. “Then I triple-dog-dare you to take a drink of this!” Damien thrust the spiked pop can at Matt. “What did you do to it?” “I told you. I put this in it.” Damien held up the tube of green powder. “That’s just candy.” “Then drink it, hot shot.” “Fine, I will.” Matt snatched the can, but hesitated when he put it to his lips. Ryan watched eagerly. “What’s wrong? Why are you chickening out? You believe me?” Matt narrowed his eyes at his friend’s taunting and quickly chugged a huge gulp while Scott cried and stamped his feet in the background. Matt burped loudly. “See? It’s just a stupid jo-” He cut off when he realized Damien and Ryan were taller than him. Of the three, Matt had always been the tallest. “Hey! No! Help! I’m shrinking!” Matt’s panicked eyes darted from Scott’s pile of big-boy clothing to the wailing toddler, then to the green powder. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” His shrinking hands buried in the folds of his too-big jeans as they began to fall off his hips. He was now up to Damien’s chest. “You’re right! You’re right!” With a smirk, Damien pulled out a small clear vial filled with a bright blue liquid- so bright a blue it almost glowed. He pulled out the stopper. “Here, stick your tongue out.” Matt quickly obeyed; minutes later he was back to normal, panting heavily from the sare he’d had and eyeing Damien warily. By now, Scott’s shrill toddler cries turned into pathetic whimpers. He observed through big, teary eyes then suddenly rushed over and kicked Damien in the shin just as he was pocketing the antidote, trying to get him to drop the antidote. “GIMME!” He squeaked. Damien hopped back, rubbing his leg in pain and cursing. Ryan laughed then snatched the struggling toddler up. “He offered to diaper you earlier, right? Maybe you should return the favor?” Damien grinned. “Well, I am bigger than him now. So that makes me the babysitter. He wanted me to wear a bib, too.” Matt snickered at that, but quelled under Damien’s threatening glance. “No’s!” Scott shouted in Ryan’s arms. Damien smiled sweetly at him. “Maybe if Scotty is a good wittle baby, I”ll make him big again.” He waved the antidote vial just out of Scotty’s short, grasping reach. Ryan and matt held baby Scotty down while Damien diapered him, then put a pair of his cousin’s booties and mittens on the squirming baby. He topped it off by tying a bib around Scotty’s neck and strapping him into his cousin’s stroller. The three teens were already dressed for the party. They eyed their squirming charge critically. “Something’s missing.” Damien muttered. “Lemme go! Gimme an-ani-do!” Scotty struggled against the secure harness of the troller, but he was held helpless. As he squirmed, the plastic of his thick diaper crinkled loudly, making Matt and Ryan snicker. Scotty pouted and glared up at them. ‘I know!” Damien snapped his fingers. He rushed off to the kitchen and came back with a pacifier. He smiled at scotty. “We can’t have a noisy baby. Now be a good wittle boy and suck on your binky and I”ll think about making you big again! “ Eyes fixed on the antidote Damien dangled before him, the little toddler sized nineteen year old opened his mouth. Sucking noisily and awkwardly, Scott glared up at the three guffawing boys as they pushed his stroller out into the night. Scott was mortified beyond belief to be out in a diaper, bib, booties, pacifier and being pushed in a stroller- just like a baby. He felt immature. Maybe this was what Damien felt like when he teased him…. Scott was strangely quiet, staring down at the stroller wheels and green booties on his feet. He hoped no one would notice him, but Damien was in no hurry. He talked loudly with his friends and drew plenty of attention, particularly of the female variety. They ran into a few girls from school walking around; the girls squealed and pinched Scott’s chubby baby cheeks. Worse than the girls fussing over him were the mothers with their own babies out for walks; apparently they did not trust the babysitting abilities of three teenaged boys. The mothers checked Scott’s diaper and he wanted to die. But Damien lapped it up, enjoying Scott’s torment immensely. The party was in full swing when they arrived. Laura answered the door, already half drunk and parts of her outfit missing. She squealed in Scott’s ear and scooped him up. “Awwww, who's a pwecious wittle peanut!” She cooed drunkenly and tossed him rather high into the air. Behind his pacifier, Scott let out a garbled, terrified squeal of his own, rubber nipple muffling his cries. She patted his well padded rump then handed him back to Damien. “Shame you got stuck with a baby- my party’s kickin’!” She disappeared back into the tight press of half undressed bodies and throbbing music. Indeed, it was kicking a little too much for the boys’ liking. They’d gone to a popular kids’ party- mission accomplished. They didn’t see what the big deal was. Just a bunch of idiots drinking, jumping, hooting and hollering. They’d gotten shoved into the walls several times on drunken accident. It was worse than being at school. They found a less occupied corner in the kitchen. Damien produced a bottle he’d taken from home- he’d put it in the diaper bag in the bottom of the stroller’s basket. It was full of milk. Damien added the antidote. Scott’s eyes grew wide and focused as he watched eagerly. Damien held the bottle just out of Scott’s reach. Scott whined desperately, grasping for it. “Gimme! Peeze! Gimme!” He whined. “I don’t know….” Damien pretended to think, enjoying the desperation on Scott’s face. Just then someone knocked over the speakers and the music abruptly cut off with a crash. Perfect timing. Smiling like the devil, Damien handed the bottle to Scott. Anticipation gleamed in his eyes as he watched the grown toddler anxiously, eagerly chug the bottle. Drops of milk dribbled down Scott’s chin and onto the bib. Matt and Ryan bit their lips, eater for the spectacle this would make. They weren’t disappointed. Within seconds, Scott was back to normal….still wearing the diaper, booties, and bib. The growth formula that had dribbled onto them from the bottle had made them grow with Scott. His eyes popped out of his head in horror at his clothing and relief to be normal again. “Scott? What the hell are you wearing?” Laura shrieked, unsure whether to laugh or scream. Scott froze and found all eyes on him. He blushed in embarrassment, hands splayed over his crotch in a pathetic attempt to hide his diaper. “No, its not what it looks like-” Several camera phones clicked rapidly and repeatedly, then someone taking video yelled, “Duuuuude! This is soooo going on youtube!!!!” Scott dashed for the door, pushing past gawking onlookers. “You said parties were for babies- so who’s the baby now, you freak?” Damien called out as Scott fled out the door with Damien, Matt, and Ryan hot on his heels. They guy taking video caught Scott’s frightened face up close, then zoomed in on his diapered rump as he pushed past. Scott ran out the door and dashed down an alley, trying not to be seen. Laura’s neighbor had clothes on the line and Scott spied a sweat suit that looked like it might fit him. He dashed into the yard and hid behind bushes before anyone could see him. The three friends and his tormentors howled with laughter behind him. They couldn’t wait to see the youtube video. Scott crossed his arms over his once-again broad chest, waiting for the laughter to die down. The sweatshirt and sweat pants did fit him, but barely, and showed off the bulge of his diaper. He had an angry look on his face, not noticing how noticeable his diaper was. The bow of the bib stuck out of the back of his sweatshirt. Wiping tears of laughter from his eyes, Damien met Scott’s red face. “Now you know what it feels like.” His voice was not repentant- Scott deserved it, and he was not sorry. Scott stared at Damien for a long, hard moment. He sighed heavily and uncrossed his arms. “I”m going home.” He dropped his eyes and muttered “Maybe I was a little mean to you.” His voice rose again. “You can stay up late as you want and I’ll tell your parents you were well behaved. I’m going.” In his embarrassment, he just wanted to get out of sight and back into his regular clothes. Damien recognized an awkward truce when he saw one and he knew that was as much of an apology as he would get from Scott. He and Scott would never be friends, but an unsteady truce had been called tonight. By turning Scott into a baby, Damien made him grow up a little. Matt and Ryan watched Damien and Scott, waiting Damien’s reaction. “Alright.” Damien nodded once. Scott nodded back then turned and left, waddling awkwardly and diaper crinkling noisily. Damien watched, his lips twitching. Revenge was indeed very sweet, especially when served from a baby bottle. End.

iz itiz gewd storee eye lyked it wuz gewd yas mor plz. (That was painful to type, but I couldn't resist. 😆 Should February Fool's be a thing? I think it should.)

Thank you for your interest in the story. I'm very happy people are still enjoying the story. If I had more time, I'd work on this again, but for now it's on the back burner. I've currently got 5 works in progress I'm working on, but after they're finished I'll be able to pick this up again.

Tranquility? I've seen peach-colored ones at the thrift store, but they were plastic backed and I don't remember the name. There was a local medical supply store that carried fairly absorbent plastic-backed diapers, but I don't remember the brand name since I haven't been there in 5+ years. Their XL diapers were peach/ cream colored, larges blue. My top medical diaper brands/white diapers are ABU Simple, Rearz Inspire Incontrol, Dry 24/7 and Northshore.

I had a nice, quiet Thanksgiving. No family drama for once- no ambulance or police were involved, so it was very nice. Then again, we didn't have any relatives over. 😆 We had roasted turkey, sweet potatoes, corn in a herb-butter sauce, home made mashed potatoes, and stuffing. And pie, so much pie- oreo pie, pumpkin pie, and lemon meringue. The kitties stuffed themselves silly with turkey and whipped cream for dessert. Deep fried turkey always makes me think of this:

Density being as in, are there enough nearby ABDL clients a professional Mommy/Nanny/Daddy could make a living off of it. Or having enough ABDL clients who would be willing to travel. I imagine in big cities such as New York one might be able to make a living.