Cute_Kitten

I just realized I never commented on the end. It was quite a ride- and awesome job on finishing this! It's been a long (but entertaining and good) ride, so congratulations! Finishing a long piece like this is an accomplishment all on its own and I hope you're proud of it.

That was delicious! Poor Nick, he's at his lowest point yet and Jack is being a real jerk and I'm loving every minute. I hope there's some more in store for poor Nick!

Thank you! I hope that's interesting in a good way lol! thank you

I remember this when you first posted it. A very well written, sweet story. I still stand by what I said then- take the diapers out, and I could so easily see this as a Hallmark Christmas movie!

This is a nice set up- good world building. The Middle English-sounding text was a nice touch!

That...was hilarious! Thanks for sharing!

You can always rock a murse (man purse).

I haven't bought/ read any off of kindle, so I can't recommend any personally. But there have been a few authors on DD who have published on amazon. I can't think of them off the top of my head, but I've seen several threads over in the writing section talking about amazon and publishing.

Part 2 has been up on my patreon for the last few weeks. Part 3 is currently posted there, along with the latest update on Bad Seed. https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten I want to give a huge shoutout to my patreon supporters- Thank you! I really appreciate it! ? The train lurched forward as it pulled out of the station. Amber still had several stops to go before hers. People pressed in tightly; the car felt more packed than before and she wondered how that was even possible. She was squashed against the pole. This made a New York subway car feel spacious in comparison. She looked around at the crowd, at Japanese faces everywhere. She was the only gaijin. She wondered if she was the only one diapered, too. Maybe the toilets over here weren’t as complicated as she made them out to be. Perhaps, deep down, she wanted to be diapered so bad she conflated the toilets into giant, complicated potty monsters. To her, all those buttons were more complicated than operating a gundam, a giant fighting robot in some of her favorite anime. She had looked up Youtube videos on how to operate those tech-savvy toilets. What buttons she should look for to flush. The tutorials made it seem easy. She had overestimated her kanji reading ability and underestimated the toilets. The buttons were not always in the same place and the symbols and kanji differed depending on the brand. Peeing her pullup was much less troublesome. It was one less cultural hurdal for her to juggle. Elbows brushed against her from three sides. She tried to make herself as small as possible, limbs plastered to her body. Crowds were one thing she had a hard time getting used to. People everywhere, no breathing room. The trains were usually packed, no matter the time or day. Weekend shopping like she had done today, or travelling to school, the train was always a rolling sardine can. Her Japanese had improved more in one short month than in three years of highschool, due to cultural immersion. Everywhere, everyone spoke Japanese. Even at home. Store clerks would sometimes struggle to speak halting, heavily accented English with her, since she was a gaijin. But the locals, once they knew whose niece she was, all spoke to her in Japanese. She wondered if her aunt or uncle had talked to them about her. The only time she used English was with her old friends online, and on rare occasions with her aunt. Aunt Lisa usually insisted Amber speak Japanese because the more she used it, the quicker she would learn and get comfortable with the language. Amber had adapted to other cultural changes in stride. The big ones- food, school, etiquette, new cultural norms- she’d been prepared for. Her palate was taking longer to adjust than she liked, but that just meant she had to try harder. Like today for lunch, she’d gotten yakisoba, fried noodles with chopped up vegetables and chicken instead of going to McDonald’s for lunch. She had ended up at McDonald’s anyway, to change out of her first wet pull up of the day. She’d also bought a milkshake since she didn’t want to use the bathroom without buying anything. Her mother used to do that all the time, and Amber hated it. Diapers would make shopping so much more convenient. Could she handle wearing such bulky, noisy diapers to school? Her cousin handled his diapers just fine, even on the rare occasions his skirt flipped up, accidentally showing off his diapers to the world. A boy, in a girl uniform. Amber shook her head. The school staff and other students seemed alright with it. How did he get away with it? Crossdressing and other nonsense was even less accepted in Japan than it was in America. Well, it was accepted in the media and celebrity personas. At least, that’s what Google-sensei told her. There were some long standing traditions of men dressing as women, such as the onnagata, men who played female roles in kabuki theatre. Here in the everyday life, no one made fun of the cross dressing diaper boy. It made Amber feel like something very fishy was going on. The school was a small, private one, and much different than she had been expecting. Accepting her cousin’s skirts and diapers was just one example of the school’s curiosities. The school was okay with her pullups, too. Amber had tried her best to hide them- she’d changed in the bathroom and hid her wet pullups at the bottom of the trash can. She had been found out when a couple of delinquent boys snuck and took photos up girls’ skirts. She was the only gaijin at the school; naturally, they’d target an exotic curiosity like her. Photos of her wet, pink pullups with the butterfly print had quickly spread over the school before the teachers spotted it. She had been teased only a little before the teasing abruptly, strangely stopped. The guilty parties had humbly bowed before her, apologizing in shame. No matter the culture, groups always had peer pressure and bullying. So why were she and her cousin, the class pants-pissers, off the hook? Even in a vastly different culture, it was too strange. It unnerved her. She tried talking to her cousin about it, but he either changed the subject or pretended not to know what she was talking about. Everybody else- her teachers, her aunt and uncle- reacted the same. The message was clear; do not question your good fortune. Just appreciate and enjoy it. She could wear her diapers without facing any peer pressure. She wanted to fit in, to be liked, so she kept her mouth shut. She didn’t want to make any problems. But she still smelled a big, fat rat. She just had no clue how to sniff it out. Maybe wearing big, bulky, noisy diapers so thick they made her waddle and peeped out from under her uniform skirt would stir things up enough to get her some answers. “Mommy, why is that big girl in pullups? Is she potty training too?” At the squeaky voice, Amber looked down. A little girl, maybe 3-4 years old, clung to her mother’s leg, right next to Amber. In a perfect position to see up Amber’s skirt. Her face flushed hot and she tugged self-consciously on her skirt. The mom’s eyes widened; she glanced at Amber for a split second then immediately looked away and shushed her daughter with a small wave of her hand. She pretended like Amber didn’t exist, wasn’t standing right next to her. The little girl looked up at her mother, up at Amber, then fell silent. It was on the tip of Amber’s tongue to say something, but the response threw her off balance. She wasn't sure how to read that reaction. In America, it was rude. The mom should have apologized to her. In Japan, perhaps the mom was simply trying to save face both for herself and Amber, and was also shaming her daughter by her silence, by her refusal to acknowledge her. Save face by avoiding escalating the situation, allowing both parties to walk away in dignity. Amber chewed her lip, unsure what she should do. How should she respond? If she spoke up, she’d be the troublemaker. She’d be escalating the situation and making things worse. Maybe it was better to pretend like there was no situation. Avoid trouble with silence. She didn’t want to cause any trouble, break any social taboos, be an ugly American. A barbarian foreigner. She looked away, too. She caught a few people staring at her crotch as if trying to detect her pullup. They all quickly looked away and disengaged upon eye contact. Once her heart stopped fluttering and she could think clearly, she contemplated the girl’s question. She peed her pants because she wanted attention from her aunt so bad she was considering going from pullups to full time diapers. She snuck a peek at the little girl. That child was going from pullups to big girl panties. Amber moved in the opposite direction, from pullups down to diapers. Shame and horror washed over her. She pissed herself for attention; she was a spoiled, selfish, rotten rat. She cringed at those thoughts. She wanted to rip her damp pullup off. The squishy padding around her crotch filled her with disgust. Her bladder twinged and she clenched her muscles tighter. Her selfish little charade needed to come to an end. Her diapers would be dry at night from now on and her pullups dry during the day. Then she’d be back in big girl panties like a normal 18 year old. She belonged in panties. Even if it meant losing her aunt’s love and the parental attention she’d rarely gotten in childhood.

I suppose it varies by location- around where I'm at, I'm not the only one whose brought in wet things that need dried. Heck, that's how I got the idea- was at the laundromat when a lady came in with wet clothes and popped them in the dryer. Our laundromats aren't the best-tended, either. Which kinda sucks because it's not uncommon for the vending machines to be out- on the rare times I"ve had to use them, I've learned to take extra soap/ dryer sheets because of mooching strangers. And if a machine breaks, don't hold your breath waiting for it to get fixed. I've never heard of a laundromat attendant. ? That's a new one on me. One of the newer laundromats used to have a security camera, but it's been ripped down for a few years now.

This is an old story, but if you'd like more recent stories, please consider joining my patreon. https://www.patreon.com/Cute_Kitten Gabby stuck a cling on bat to the window, right above the cling on haunted house so it looked like the bat was coming out of the chimney. She had put ghosts near the windows, and happy little pumpkins below the house, along with a dancing skeleton. She reached down, grabbing a full moon with a witch's black shadow flying across it. "I'll put this one up on the top." She grabbed a kitchen chair and climbed up on top to reach the top of the window. She centered the witch and ran her hands over the plastic, smoothing it onto the glass. As she did so, she felt her shirt ride up, exposing her belly. She paused when she like she was being stared at and looked out the window to see two girls from school standing on the sidewalk, looking at her and snickering. Her face felt hot and she looked down. She had always been on the bigger side, and with all she had been going through lately, her waistline had widened; her nibbling on goodies had increased with her stress levels. Her belly hung out, not at all sexy, and the scrunched waistband of her pullup poked over her black sweatpants. She yanked her shirt down and hopped off the chair, ducking away from the window as one of the girls whispered in the other's ear, and their laughter rang in her ears. She pressed herself to the wall and bit her lower lip. "Go away. Go away. Just go away." She whispered and dug the heels of her palms into her eyes to keep herself from crying. Once their laughter faded away, she risked peeking at the window to find them gone. "Screw you." She bit her lip harder and swallowed her tears. She was *not* going to cry, not today. She was sick of crying. "God I hate this place. I want to go home." A few tears escaped and she angrily brushed them away. Home. The only place besides this little slice of suburban hell she knew. Home was with her grandparents, on their little farm, with her family and friends. She missed them so much it was a physical ache in her chest. She wished the pain made her not want to eat, made her throw up what she did ate, but instead it was the opposite. She wanted a few pieces of Halloween candy, maybe a mini Hershey's or a handful of candy corn. Or a slice of her grandmother's homemade apple pie, or pumpkin pie. Her mouth watered for the sweet crispness of a fresh pie right out of the oven. Homemade crust and apples right from the small family orchard. Gabby groaned. Fall had always been her favorite time of year, when her aunts, uncles and cousins all came to the farm and everyone worked together on the small harvest, taking the pumpkins, gourds, apples and other produce to the local fall farmer's market for a harvest festival. Helping her grandmother bake her blue-ribbon winning pies and climbing on the piles of gigantic pumpkins and wondering if anyone this year would finally be able to de-crown the Hendersons for the title of Pumpkin King, which went to the farmer who had grown the biggest pumpkin. Gabby opened a few cupboards and scowled. "Nothing here." She snorted in disgust. There was nothing in this house she wanted to eat. Hell, nothing in this house she wanted at all. Nothing in the neighborhood, either. The cupboards were nearly empty of food as this house was of people. Here it was just her and her biological father, Juan. She did not know him, and he did not know her. She had just met him back in June, when he showed up into her life for the first time in all her eighteen years. He claimed to have finally tracked her down. Gabby didn't care. She was happy in her little world and knew who she was. She was darker than the rest of her white-bread family, the result of having the Hispanic Juan for a father. Her family never held that against her, and she had never felt odd or awkward because of it. Had never been curious at all about the other half of her family. This man was not her family, just a sperm donor. After several discussions with her mother and grandparents, which had descended into arguments and several trips to court, it had been arranged for Gabby to go and live with him for her last year of high school, to get to know him and the other half of her heritage. She didn't give a rat's ass about it. Juan worked long hours, and seemed disappointed she didn't even know any Spanish. He had been rather upset to learn she had chosen German instead of Spanish for her foreign language class. She didn't hate her other side; she just did not feel connected to it in anyway. Juan's first language was Spanish, and that was the only language his parents, her other grandparents, spoke. His English was heavily accented and they both often had trouble understanding each other. That she could have handled if school had not been such a living hell. It was what she hated the worst. The girls here were not so accepting as the ones she had grown up with and known all her life. She felt like a round peg in a square world. She was made fun of by the other Hispanic kids for not knowing anything of her heritage, which only made her pull away from it more. She was made fun of because she was chubby and not...so pretty. She didn't think she was ugly, even though some of the boys, trying to impress the popular girls, had taken to barking at her when she walked past in the halls. The worst part, though, was the accidents she had had. She had always been a bed wetter. Her doctor told her grandparents it was from having an underdeveloped bladder, and she had always worn pullups at night. After the continuous stress and isolation she had been going through, she had had several daytime accidents. At school. The other students had tormented her mercilessly, bullied her at every turn. She had taken to wearing pullups during the day, too, but the damage was done and now her weak, leaky bladder haunted her every footstep. Even getting diapers was a problem. She tried to talk to Juan about it, but the conversations always fell apart and she ended up just putting the pullups in the cart when they went grocery shopping. "Hate this." She muttered to herself, wiping at her wet eyes and glared down at the rest of the Halloween window clingies. The other houses were nicely decorated, and this house....just had a few lame window clings. She had missed so many of her favorite fall activities on the farm with her family....and now she was even missing out on Halloween decorating, too. She shrugged. "Screw Halloween. Not this year, not for me." She didn't feel like putting the rest of the clings up, and Juan hadn't even bought a small pumpkin from the grocery store. "I want one friend. Just one." She sniffed.

This!

for sports, wear pullups? since they're thinner than diapers so they won't get in the way as much.

Well, that escalated quickly and raised the stakes. James isn't the best decision maker, but I like how his decisions come from his emotions. The doctors and psychiatrist may have found nothing wrong with him, but it certainly seems like something on a subconscious level might be going on with him. He still needs to attend school- or will he drop out? What will his family say/ how will they react? His friends? How will this affect his status as a football player? This part raises many questions- but that's part of what good fiction does, to get readers invested in a story.

Thank you for commenting! I always love hearing what you think. Lili's definitely got a plan, but as we've seen previously her plans don't always work out the way she wants them to. Cameron definitely has a lot of tough battles up ahead of him, and I'm glad to hear it seems like he might not be able to pull it off. I hope that means I'm doing my job as a writer and keeping readers in suspense. We've got more intensity down the road leading up to the big climax.

The condensed and diapered version of War and Peace, just add moisture? (I'd say water, but we're talking diperz here so....)

In today's world, that's something it's good to be concerned about. One way to help avoid that- never, ever, ever show your face in a ABDL picture. If you really, really want to post pics of your diapered self online, it's your choice. But to help avoid being recognized or doxed, I'd recommend blurring your face out, or angling the camera or cropping the photo so your head is cut off, or wear a full-face mask. Heck, even a paper bag over the head, anything to hide you face to give you more anonymity.

There's always washing at home, then running down to the laundromat to use their dryers. I've had to do that a time or two before when my dryer broke. Not pleasant, but it'll do in a pinch. Though as I've learned the hard way, check the machines out to make sure there's no funky residue left that will ruin your clothes/sheets/etc.

That story sounds vaguely familiar- I think I ended up skimming the first part when it was first posted. A year or two ago, maybe? I'm not really sure- but it sticks in my head Sally Kat may have been the author?

I LOVED Yu Yu Hakusho! It was one of my favorites on Toonami's Saturday night at midnight run. Elfen Leid, good memories of that one. "blows wind up your skirt" LOL! I like that saying!

Northshore Lite in colors? https://www.northshorecare.com/diapers/fitteds1/northshore-supreme-lite-briefs.html

I've had this happen with many diapers, including the Rearz Violet case I'm currently on.

The first anime I ever saw was Sailor Moon, then Ronin Warriors. Oh, those cheesy old-school anime! What turned me into an otaku though was Gundam Wing- funnily enough that's the only giant robot anime I ever really got into. I blame the 5 pretty boy pilots. It's also what got me into reading yaoi. That's really cool you got to see Akira so early! I remember when video rental stores had a small anime section- and none of it was rated! That was the best, you'd rent an anime with no clue what was gonna happen inside. It was a surprise (and boy howdy did things like Ninja Scroll surprise me! LOL). Ah, I remember Power Rangers in their hey day, too. Fun times, fun times. and it's awesome your sister got into it, too. It's always more fun to watch with others!

Yay, a fellow otaku! Akira! I remember first seeing that when I was in middle school on the Syfy channel. It scared the crap out of me. I loved it LOL! Let's let our otaku sides roar! Aww thankies, I'm blushing! It's not weird or creepy. But being weird and creepy is fun in a non-weird and creepy way

I'd say about the same as America or other western countries. Canada is a big country- like America, there will be some people who are chill and accepting and other people who think it's wrong/disgusting/ etc.