[Bad Seed (updated 5-24-25)]

On 3/1/2025 at 2:57 PM, BabySofia said:

Great to see an update! Now I just hope Lili hasn't been signed up already for the treatment he was about to have... 

I have to imagine we're coming to a conclusion soon with this? Looking forward to how this finishes when you do!

We're definitely in the home stretch and wrapping up loose threads. There's still a few chapters to go with some surprises in it I hope lol but the end is definitely drawing near. 

Lili and regression is an idea I've toyed with. She certainly wouldn't be as good or as cooperative as baby Cameron is. But that would also make for more entertaining reading. 😁

Thank you for commenting. 😊

On 3/1/2025 at 3:31 PM, Tasa said:

I hope his grandmother wont try to sabotage him, or force regress him until he has a chance to get emancipated. Anyways go go Cameron for you bravery and standing up for your self, and Lilly for helping him get the self confidence needed.

Beatrice would certainly love to see him regressed again if she had her way. The only thing stopping her from forcing Cameron is the potential impact that could have on her. She likes having Cameron fully under her control so he's tucked safely away from society in a nursery where no one could see him and he can't embarrass her.  If he's out there unsupervised with Lili, Beatrice worries how that will make her look. She's really very selfish but she wants the world to see her as kind and loving so they will praise her. Cameron isn't the bravest of souls but he tries his best and works with what little courage he has. And he's learning how to be braver and reclaim at least some autonomy.  Thank you for commenting. 🙂

[The Ethics of Regression]

Nothing wrong at all about not writing a story with subject matter that makes you uncomfortable. Especially if it's in a grey area that could have potential legal repercussions. The vanilla world already does not view ABDLs favorably, let alone ABDL stories and any stories depicting minors (regressed or not) anything with an apparent minor and sexual acts in it may end up labeled as child porn and could potentially get the writer into legal hot water. Refusing to write a story that makes you uncomfortable is looking out for yourself. 

[UK Government Looking to Ban Age Play Again]

Hopefully common sense will prevail. I worry there's been enough bad publicity about the extreme outliers in the ABDL community who end up on the news for committing acts of indecency or breaking the law that anyone who is in a position of power who wants to ban ABDL or ageplay can just gather all the headlines and go "oh hey look at these sick diaper wearing freaks! They're all pedophiles!" And other people in positions of power will believe them.  🤦‍♀️

[Bad Seed (updated 5-24-25)]

Cameron stared at the mint green walls of the nurse’s office. The overhead light was so bright, it hurt to glance up and made his head throb worse. A clock ticked next to a row of cream cabinets and a counter full of medicine bottles. A wet cloth lay on his forehead, water dripping down his temples to the flat, lumpy pillow.  The nurse knelt at the end of the bed, holding a thermometer in his rear end and pushing his legs high into the air as if she were changing his diaper. 

 

Even with a pounding headache, he was so used to this position, he didn’t mind. The thick glass rod filling his backside was an unpleasant but familiar sensation. Rectal thermometers, unlike other ones, gave the core body temperature.  The smell of his own puke wafted up from the bedside bucket, filling his nostrils and lungs and making him want to puke again.

 

“Almost done. You’re being such a good boy, Cameron. I wish all my patients were so cooperative.”  The nurse praised as she slid the thermometer out and fastened a fresh diaper on him.

 

Cameron ignored her.  Ms. Sweeney, Grandma Beatrice, and Mr. Witherspoon the principal were in the next room over, the nurse’s private office, finishing up the meeting. When the meeting had originally started in the principal’s office, he had sat in, but fear and anxiety, his emotions, got the best of him and he’d spewed all over Mr. Witherspoon’s polished tile floor.  He’d been rushed to the nurse’s office for an impromptu check up and the meeting had continued without him, moving into the nurse’s office.

 

He glanced at the thin wall. The room was so quiet, if he concentrated, he could make out snippets of the conversation going on next door, especially with Grandma Beatrice and Mr. Witherspoon’s deep voices.

 

“He’s clearly not ready to be mainstreamed. He broke down mid-meeting. Frankly, I’m surprised he lasted that long.”  

 

Cameron cringed at his grandma’s exasperated tone. She’d never held any hope or care for his recovery. She blamed him for everything that had happened- his burns, his therapy, his father in jail, other kids picking on him. No matter how hard he tried or what he did, he’d never be a good boy in her eyes. 

 

“His social skills are a little rusty. He just needs a refresher course. Maybe some anxiety medication. We need to at least make the attempt. Let him try. He’s ready. He came to me and asked me. He’s never done that before. That’s why I called this meeting.”    Ms. Sweeney’s voice was stern, like she was reprimanding a toddler. He wondered if she used that voice on purpose to goad Beatrice or if it was just a habit. 

 

“It’s been quite a while. Maybe the boy really is ready. This is Ms. Sweeney’s area of expertise. We just need you to sign-”    Mr. Witherspoon’s voice was drowned out by Beatrice.

 

“His doctor knows he’s not ready. In fact, he’s pushing paperwork for more intensive treatment. For Cameron’s own good. He’s not as well-adjusted as we’d hoped.”

 

“What?!”  The alarm in Ms. Sweeney’s voice stabbed Cameron’s gut with anxiety.  “What doctor? Why wasn’t I given any notes for a treatment plan? What makes you say he’s backsliding? I work with this boy every day and I’ve seen no signs or symptoms of it.” 

 

“A new doctor. Cameron will be given the very best treatment at one of the foremost regression hospitals. In fact, he probably won’t even finish the school year out here. So there’s no need to waste any more of my valuable time with this nonsense.”

 

Cameron’s heart dropped into his stomach. He was going to throw up again. There was no getting through to grandma. It was a lost cause. He was going back to babyhood, permanently.  Cameron The Nuisance, out of her life for good. The only reminder of his existence to the outside world would be a heavily padded monthly bill his grandmother paid.  

 

He shuddered, cold all over. A small part of him wanted to curl up in a fetal position and break down crying. The larger part of him was numb with horror.  He stood up with a loud crinkle from his freshly changed diaper.  He wore just a long sleeved yellow onesie; his scar covered legs were on display. Not even the familiar, soothing bulk of his diaper could take the edge off his raw fear.  He was too worried about his impending fate to care about the nurse seeing his uncovered scars. 

 

The nurse had her back to him as she put away the rectal thermometer and changing supplies.  She expected her well behaved patient to stay put in bed. He waddled and crinkled as fast as his bulky diaper allowed to the next room. The office was unlocked, but his trembling, sweaty palms slipped off the door knob. His stomach felt queasy with dread all over again. 

 

He fumbled with the knob, opening the door just as Mr. Witherspoon started talking.  “NO!”  Cameron hollered, focusing on his grandma as all eyes turned to him, jaws dropping in shock.  His shout echoed around the small office. 

 

Sweat broke out on his flush faced, his pupils dilated in fear. He shook from head to toe.Staring at his grandma, something in him- the desire for approval, for love- snapped. He didn’t know what he was doing. His brain shut off.

 

 His yellow onesie flapped, snaps still open to reveal his thick, puffy diaper.  His legs were bare for all to see, yet no one looked at the burn scars, the evidence of his father’s cruelty. All eyes stared at his face. 

 

“You see? The boy’s clearly unhinged.”  Beatrice was the first to recover, lips puckered in disapproval at her grandson’s wild antics.

 

“Cameron? Sweetheart, you need to go lay back down. You don’t look good. You probably have a fever-”   Ms. Sweeney’s words fell on deaf ears, bouncing off his brain like his grandmother’s disgust did.

 

Cameron waddled forward with slow, jerky steps. Sweat ran down his face and matted his hair. His skin was pale and clammy but his eyes burned.  “No.”  He said again, loud and firm.  “No hospital. No being a baby. I will be a big boy again.”

Beatrice’s upper lip curled.  “Don’t be ridiculous. Stupid boy. Just look at yourself.”  She stepped back as Cameron toddled closer.  Mr. Witherspoon started to reach out to grab Cameron, but Ms. Sweeney put a hand on his arm and shook her head. 

 

Cameron laughed, a hysterical hyena giggle. Tears welled in his eyes.  “It’s always like that, isn’t it? My diapers. My scars. My boo-boos. I disgust you. You don’t want me. you never did.”

 

Beatrice looked away, to the principal and the regression teacher. She automatically worried what they thought, what they’d say to everyone else.  “Cameron. Sweetiepie, of course that’s not true. I love you very much. I just want what’s best for you. You’re very ill- you need help, baby.”

 

“Ha! I like that! Cut the crap, Grandma. We all know it’s just an act for them.”  Cameron glanced at his teachers. It was his voice, but it was Lili’s harshness, her sarcasm and bitterness that poured out from deep inside him, in the hidden depths of his heart.  

 

Ms. Sweeney and Mr. Witherspoon just stared in shocked silence at Cameron. They’d never heard him swear before. 

 

His shaking increased. His onesie turned dark yellow with his sweat.  Ragged breaths made his thin chest heave. He took another trembling step forward then his legs buckled. His knees slammed to the floor while his jagged panting filled the silent room.

 

Everyone stared, shocked at his foul language and bitter tone.  He’d never, ever spoken like this before.  He always cried, apologized, or fell into obedient silence.  Now, he’d finally reached his breaking point.

 

He hugged himself, trembling. Minutes ticked by as he struggled to control his labored breathing. He pressed a slim hand to his mouth and swallowed the bile rising up from his stomach.

 

Beatrice shifted uncomfortable, her low kitten heels clicked on the tiled floor. 

 

Cameron raised his eyes up to her. He spoke in his usual, soft tone.  “Just let me go. That’s what this is all about. You want me out of the way. You always have. Why does it have to be a regression hospital? I want to go with Lili. She promised to take me away. To India. We’ll be far away. You’ll never see me again.”

 

Beatrice stared down at her grandson, as if truly seeing him for the first time.  “Let you go off and get killed? It’s dangerous out there, Cameron. Look what happened the last time we tried mainstreaming. You can’t handle it. You never could.”  Her nostrils flared with some of her old fire. 

 

“So you put me back in the regression program to protect me?”  He giggled, sad and disgusted. He felt tingly-numb and light headed all over. 

 

Beatrice cringed back a step. Mr. Witherspoon and Ms. Sweeney looked ready to dial 911 for medical help and to send Cameron to the psych ward. All three watched as the front of his exposed diaper turned yellow.  He didn’t realize he was peeing. 

 

“I don’t believe you. I think you’re just saying that to save face. You were always embarrassed by me, Grandma. You never wanted me out of the nursery.”  His words were soft, but full of all the brutality one would expect from Liliana, not from sweet, gentle Cameron.

 

“Why don’t we all take a break, calm down, and think things over? I can take Cameron and get him dressed-”   Ms. Sweeney tried to break the tension, but Beatrice overrode her.

 

“Is that what you think? You’re my grandson. Of course I love you. I did it for your own good.”

 

Cameron flinched, biting his lower lip to hold back his tears.  “You have a funny way of showing it. Do you know how long I’ve waited for you to say those words? For you to actually mean them? Not just say them so you’ll look good in front of others.” 

 

“I meant them. You’re family.”  Beatrice took a hesitant step towards him, not glancing at either school staff once. She laid a tentative hand on top of his head. He didn’t flinch away. A few tears fell down his cheeks and plopped onto the floor.

 

“Then why are there no pictures of me in your bedroom? It’s a shrine to my...to the man who hurt me.” 

 

“He’s my son, Cameron. Of course I love him. I miss him very much. I’m his mother. It’s only natural.”

 

Cameron pulled away, hugging himself tight.  He struggled to stand up. The crinkle of his diaper filled the quiet room. His quivering knees buckled again. Ms. Sweeney rushed over, catching him before he could fall for the second time. He looked up at his grandmother, voice as hard and sad as his eyes.  “Let me go. I want my status as a big boy...as an adult...back. I’m 18. You want me gone. I’ll happily go. But not where you want me to.”

 

“Child, you have no idea what you’re talking about. You can’t make decisions like that. You’re just a baby.”

 

“I’ll fight you. Lili’s already offered me a lawyer. Her grandpa’s gonna help. We’ll drag you to court. I wonder what the rest of the Ladies’ Society will think of that?”  His voice was firm, his body shaking and cold. His teacher was the only thing holding him up; without her support, he’d be on the floor at his grandmother’s feet.

 

Beatrice recoiled as if she’d been slapped. Her lips puckered like she’d bit into a lemon. It reminded him of Mrs. Vesper’s face whenever she looked at Lili. She’d never faced such disobedience before.   “Very well. Have it your way. It’s your funeral. I’ll sign the papers, but then I wash my hands of you. I’ve tried my best to do my familial duty by you. But you make it impossible, Cameron. Don’t say I didn’t warn you. Don’t come crying to me when you get bullied again. You want to be on your own? Fine. So be it.”

 

Cameron’s heart fluttered.  “You’ll sign? You mean it? For mainstreaming and my emancipation?”   

 

At his grandmother’s sour nod, he beamed. Relief and joy flowed through him.  He hugged Ms. Sweeney.  “Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!”  He would’ve pranced if his legs weren’t so shaky from the intense emotional rollercoaster he’d been on. He wasn’t going to be a brain-dead baby. He was going to be with Lili. 

 

His body couldn’t contain his euphoria. He giggled. He laughed. He tried to walk, but he stumbled. Ms. Sweeney still held him up.  “Come on, Cam-Cam. I’ll get you dressed and you lay down while your grandma and I get the ball rolling on that paperwork.”

 

“Thank you, Ms. Sweeney. You’re the best teacher ever.”  Cameron hugged her again. She smiled and patted his heavily diapered bottom.  He smelled of pee and baby powder. Moments like this were why she’d chosen her career. Helping her students heal and find their path in life was deeply rewarding and satisfying. 

 

In this moment, with his carefree, jubilant smile, wet diaper, and open onesie flapping, Cameron more resembled an overgrown toddler than the young man he’d been moments ago. As she led him back over to the nurse’s bed and snapped the poppers on his onesie closed, covering up his diaper, a moment of doubt assailed her. Was this pretty, vulnerable boy- the most emotionally damaged and fragile boy to ever grace her nursery- truly ready to grow up?

[Mechanics, really basic mechanics.]

I highly, highly recommend writing it anywhere other than directly into the reply box on the site. Ye olde fashioned pen and paper or any type of word processer. Scrivener, Word, Notepad, Wordpad, etc.  Any program that best fits your needs and you like best!  I use a word processor for my stories. I type up then post them. Usually here on DD I post "hot off the press" because I'm so eager to share a story update. For Amazon, I only post once the entire story is complete. I do proofread and edit more and sometimes I add Amazon-exclusive content. 

[Server Issue]

6 minutes ago, DailyDi said:

Thanks for that. Been up and working on it since 3am, so it feels good to be appreciated for it!

I hope you make sure to take some breaks and take care of yourself too! And just in case you'd feel guilty for taking a break, think of it as recharging your batteries so you can keep up the good work   Cars don't run on empty tanks (or batteries if they're electric) and neither do humans so please take care!  

[Server Issue]

Thank you for all your hard work keeping this site up and running! It is seen and appreciated! 

[Server Issues 2 - Electric Boogaloo]

Thank you for fixing it so fast! 

[Outdoorsy activities?]

I like walks in the woods (nice flat trails here plz, I'm not much of a hiker/ climber) or scenic walks in the park when the temperature is juuuust right (sweater weather!). Nature is lovely in multiple seasons. My favorite is walking under the multi-color leaves in autumn. That's probably why I have so many stories set in the fall. 🤣  And in the spring with the flowers in bloom. I like the occassional winter snow walk. There is something pretty about the snow on the barren brown/ gray tree branches and brown ground and the dying sunlight in the evening that is almost pretty. But it's winter. And it's cold. 🤢

I also like going to the zoo. (Very fun wearing a Rearz Safari to the zoo too. 🤣)

I like walks along the beach at sunset or at night. I'm not much of a swimmer, surfer etc and I don't like going during the bright hot heat of the day. Because it's hot and I don't handle the heat well lol. I do love the feel of the sand under my feet. Sometimes I'll go up to my knees into the ocean but no deeper than that. Maybe I"ve watched too many Discovery Channel Shark Weeks but I'm not taking my chances in the ocean with my luck. 😂🦈😱

I haven't been to the beach in years, and I've never worn a diaper to the beach either. Imagine getting sand in your diaper. Yikes!

Lake houses are lovely, especially if they're right by the lake so you have a lovely view of the lake from inside. I'd maybe go on a little boat ride or scenic stroll but I'd totally spend most of my time by the lake (in the fall or winter or spring when it's still cold) all snuggled up in a cozy sweater, a diaper of course, and blankets by a real fireplace with maybe some hot chocolate and my notebook for some story writing. 

I'm really not much of an outdoorsy person. I do enjoy the outdoors and activites to an extent!

[Gamer Diapers!]

I wonder how popular those would be in non-ABDL gaming circles? With the right advertising in the right places, that company could maybe make bank if non-abdl gamers realize "hey this thing is absorbent and lets me play competely uninterupted!" 

[How far we've come]

Single tape diapers.....it's been a while, but I once ordered a case of Rearz Vintage diapers (I just checked, they still make them) when it was on sale.  I really liked them. The single tapes were nice and wide and the diaper fit my body snugly. (but everyone is shaped differently so your mileage may vary xD).  ABU used to have some single tape diapers. Their Kiddo diapers with the green/blue? owls. Loved those diapers, so cute and comfy! I think they had a few other one tape diapers, too? I don't remember. Sadly they've discontinued them. On the medical side, Tena has some cloth backed disposables with large single tapes.  I tried a pack of them- they're not bad. I'd maybe order them again. 

[Nappies in hot weather.]

Wearing plastic pants over a diaper is always a good way to help avoid leaks! Especially at night. But it also adds extra heat in the summer months. During hot weather I usually wear cloth backed disposables like Rearz Active Air. If it's really hot and humid with no AC I won't wear protective pants over top. For sleeping...you could always wear a disposable diaper without the protective pants if it's super hot out and AC or keeping a fan on all night are not options.  But if you have options, I'd say turn up the AC or keep a fan on all night because wet beds are no fun. A leaky diaper can still lead to a wet bed, which is not fun. 

[How far we've come]

I love the variety of diapers available nowadays. I feel plastic backed diapers aren't as numerous as they used to be but they're still available (Megamax, Sunkiss Masterpiece from Amazon, and Rearz are my go-to diapers these days for absorbency and plastic backed) but I also think compared to the past the quality is top notch. 

Back in the day of the 90s and 00s my first diapers were the plastic backed Depends with the 3 tapes per side.  The tapes always popped open and it held barely more than a wetting or two. It didn't conform to my body well and oh the leaks. 😐  I do miss the one small mom and pop medical supply store that sold some absorbent plastic backed medical diapers. I don't remember the brand, but I think the package had an owl on it? (maybe, or maybe my memory is just derpy).  I was so impressed by those diapers. The plastic tapes actually held! And I could sleep in those diapers and not leak! They were noisy and really swelled up when wet. 

Today I would consider those diapers a medium level diaper. Not bad at all, but nowhere near as absorbent as like a Megamax or a Rearz. But back in the day, those diapers were king! I remember just getting into ABDL spaces (Including blundering into the site of the Voldemort of the diapered world. Yikes! 😱 If you're wondering who, the name rhymes with Beeker) and I remember the purple Molicares being the (general) heavily favored diaper champ of those communities.

To the ABDL youngins' (18+ of course XD) out there, be glad you never had to walk 50 miles in a blizzard  uphill both ways in a diaper prone to leaks and faulty tapes that popped off to the medical supply store to physically buy your diapers. 🤣

['Shrunk' to a baby]

Good to see you writing. Have fun with it!  

[Official "Looking for a Story..." Thread]

On 1/13/2025 at 4:36 PM, Testz123 said:

Does anyone have the Wannabe Hypnotist story,

That was by WB Daddy if it's the story I'm thinking of. It was also called "Don't Dabble With Forces You Don't Understand". It was up on ABDL story forum but that site is now defunct. It was also posted here but I think it got lost in the great crash? I don't know if anyone has a copy of it.

[Have you tried cloth diapers?]

No but of the opportunity arose I would try them. I like wearing plastic pants over my diapers (especially if it's a cloth backed disposable) and at night to help prevent leaks. 

I like what I hear about them but they are more work via washing etc. and they're good for the environment etc. But right now disposable diapers fit my life best so it's what I use. Maybe someday in the future that will change. Pun intended. 😂

[Order delivered to wrong house (I think)]

11 hours ago, Crinklz Kat said:

Yes -- had USPS tag a package as delivered yet noone ever showed up to deliver it.  And when it's something that cost nearly $1000.... you definitely get stressed out.  Fortunately, I did get my package - a few days later.  

 

PS:  It was my plushlife draggy that was missing! 

Your dragon plushy is awesome! Looks like it would be good to snuggle with cuz it's so huge!

[What do you miss the most from the 80’s ?]

Loved the headbanger's ball. 

Jelly shoes. As a kid those were my jam. (pun intended 🤓 )

Some of the 80s fashion (I know it has a reputation of being a bad fashion era like with the huge shoulder pads etc. But I liked some of it, like Cyndi Lauper's style etc)

Crimped hair. 

The thick crinkly plastic backed baby diapers that swelled. 

 

[What Kills A Story For You?]

I think a lot can depend upon the story itself. Like with any other genre, just going through the motions and tropes  (boy/girl gets put into diapers. Boy/girl wets diaper. Diaper change. Boy/girl poops diaper. Diaper change. etc etc) may leave a story feeling formulaic or stale and may bore readers or have them drop a story completely. 

Showing the emotional impact on the characters may help keep readers engaged in the story by keeping them emotionally and mentally invested in the characters and what is happening to them.  Plot affects characters- they have thoughts and feelings about the things that happen to them or the choices they make and the consequences of said choices and actions. But character also affects plot. Character decisions, words, actions and attitudes affect what happens next in the story. I think it is that interplay that may keep readers entertained and wanting to know what happens next. 

Tropes can becomes tropes because sometimes some genres necessitate certain things. Diaper stories mean most likely at some point the main character/hero/protagonist will at some point sooner or later be in diapers or caring for someone in diapers. (Of course, tropes can always be flipped, subverted etc) 

The nice thing about diaper stories is they can be any genre. Fantasy, romance, historical, horror, thriller, etc. Being diaper stories of course readers will expect diapers in some form or another, and they may also expect the elements of the other genres in their diaper story as well. Example- like in a diaper romance, readers would probably expect one or both characters to be in diapers or diapered at some point, etc and the expectations of the romance genre of two characters meeting or falling in love. (Maybe 3 or more if it's a polymory romance, etc)

 

[More Babyish: plastic backed or cloth backed?]

In my experience, cloth backed diapers are more quiet/ discrete than crinkly plastic backed diapers.  I wear both, but I prefer plastic backed. I like cloth backed for hot summer days but I have to change them more frequently. I've had wetness actually seep out of them. The plastic backed diapers are better for containment and keeping odors in. 

[​​Moonlight Shadow​ Updated 6-8-25]

Here is a nice long one! Zoey can be a jerk, but she's fun to write. 🤣

Valentine's Day is just around the corner (This Friday! 💋). In case anyone is interested, here's a link to my compled, old Japanese yokai valentine's story on DD. It was written for a V-day story contest on a now-defunct site. 

 

 

Zoey leaned against an old fashioned lamp post, waiting for Sam to come out of the bathroom. Fucking hell that girl was slow. Boy. But such a soft pretty boy she couldn’t help but see him as a girl. Bit of both? Did it really matter? She snorted. This navel gazing bullshit made her head hurt. Sam was Sam and that’s all she cared about.

 

Since when did she care about a stranger, no matter how pretty and sweet they were? That thought brought her up short. Did she care about him? He was definitely a fun little diversion from the quest she was failing. Nothing more than that. He was just an unexpected opportunity for some fun and sport, to distract herself from her failures. 

 

Sam and the other diaper boy- the one with the ridiculous amount of padding- were amusing. Grown adults in diapers. She wanted to laugh. That only existed in insane asylums, hospitals, and nursing homes. And in public. Diapers were better than wet and poopy pants. The boys could not help it, could not control the functions of their bodies. They needed diapers. And she was laughing at them for it. She was as bad as the people who shot Sam dirty looks for being in the way with his braces and crutches. 

 

Suddenly Sam, Joonie, and their diapers were not so funny anymore. She felt as dirty and self centered as Hoodoo Harry. She did not like that comparison one bit. 

 

Zoey rubbed the back of her neck. Geeze, Sam was taking forever. Did he fall in the toilet and get stuck? What if he was in there crying because she’d been such a jerk? Guilt twisted her stomach and she resolved to be nicer. Maybe it would be better if she just fucked off altogether. Slunk off to lick her wounds, stew in misery, and leave the poor boy alone to live his life? 

 

Teasing and annoying him was such a delight. She should at least stay long enough to apologize for making him cry. She owed him that much. 

 

She walked up to the disabled bathroom and raised a fist to knock on the door. Movement caught the corner of her eye. 

 

People milled about everywhere, residents and tourists mixing together. One man slunk along, casually sly as he blended with the crowd. She recognized him; one of Hoodoo Harry’s flunkies. 

He leaned against the remnant shell of an old public phone booth. He faced the bathroom sideways so he could sneak glances at it. He pulled his phone out, ostensibly scrolling on it. He frequently glanced at the bathroom. Specifically at Zoey, focused on her. 

 

The feeling of being stared at could easily be dismissed as paranoia. She knew better. The average person in the crowd might be oblivious to it. That sneaky behavior was meant to fly under the radar. Only those who knew what to look for would recognize it. 

 

Hoodoo Harry and his minions were either severely underestimating her or overestimating themselves. Unless she wasn’t the target. Sam would never notice. Guilt twisted into anxiety. She’d really dragged Sam into trouble. Now she was responsible for him. She wasn’t leaving. She may be a selfish, insensitive jerk, but only a total asshole would leave Sam so alone and vulnerable. He was defenseless as a baby to someone like Hoodoo Harry. 

 

There was just something about Sam that drew her to him. She couldn’t put her finger on it. He was adorable in his helplessness. It had nothing to do with his disability. Pain hid deep in those pretty blue eyes of his. It called to her, a song in her bones. Outcast. Freak. Failure. She knew that taste all too well. 

 

A young college girl in a wheelchair rolled out of the crowd. Multiple colored plastic beads hung around her neck. Confetti glittered in her hair. A very full catheter bag hung from her chair, the urine in the clear bag bright yellow. She frowned at the locked disabled bathroom door. 

 

Zoey couldn’t help herself. She couldn’t leave Sam unguarded to go pound Harry’s spy into pavement paste. Examining her feelings made her feel like crap. Enough navel-gazing. Here was a perfect distraction and a chance for some fun.

 

“My girlfriend is in there. She’ll be out in a minute.”  Zoey called cheerfully.

 

The girl scowled at her.  “This is the disabled bathroom. So people with disabilities have priority. Your girlfriend should use the regular bathroom like every other able-bodied person.”  She pointed to the line of women outside the multi-stall ladies’ room. 

 

Zoey shrugged, a small smile on her lips. She should point out that Sam was not able-bodied, but why ruin the fun?

 

Before she could reply, a tall thin woman with too much makeup and a haircut that screamed ‘I want to talk to your manager’ pushed a stroller with three crying toddlers in it. She queued behind the girl in the wheelchair. “Actually, sweetie, this is the family restroom. Families have priority. Now I have three dirty diapers to change. So you’ll just have to wait until I’m done. Sorry.”

 

“Buzz off. I was here first. Disabled have first dibs. I’m next. Soon as that able-bodied bitch in there finishes up, I’m going in.” 

 

“Language. Honey, that’s not how this works.”  The woman sniffed disdainfully. 

 

“Don’t talk down to me. That's ableist.”

 

Zoey smiled, enjoying the show as the two females started arguing. 

 

The door swung open. Sam came out. At the sight of his metallic blue crutches, the girl’s face flushed in shame. She was too caught up in arguing with the woman to apologize. Sam cringed from the loud females and crying babies as he made his way over to Zoey.

 

She peered close at his face. He didn’t look like he’d been crying. No red-rimmed watery eyes or tear-streaked cheeks. That made her feel better, like less of a jerk. She could still have some fun with him, tease him, while guarding him from Hoodoo Harry. Those looks Harry gave Sam in the restaurant did not sit well with her. And it was her fault Harry noticed Sam in the first place.

 

Sam caught the smug look on her face. They started down the sidewalk back into the crowd.  “What did you do?” 

 

“Nothing. Hey, you changed clothes. Now you really look like a girl. Took a while, too. I thought you fell in the toilet and got stuck. I was ready to break down the door and rescue you from the evil toilet.”  Zoey matched her pace to Sam’s. 

 

“You look guilty.”  Sam stared at her. “Rather, you look pleased with yourself. Which means you did something you shouldn’t have. And you enjoyed it.”  He knew that much about her from their brief acquaintance. Trouble. She was nothing but trouble. 

 

“Just a little bit of harmless fun. Gotta get it all about before lent and so on. That skirt suits you. You’re definitely a girl now.”   Zoey circled him, her gray eyes raking over every inch.  

 

He flushed pink, feeling like a bug under a microscope.  “Boys can wear skirts too.” 

 

“Kilts. They wear kilts. But that is a skirt and you look like a girl. So you’re a girl.” 

 

“Fine. I’m not going to argue over something so stupid. I’m a girl. Happy now?”

 

“A pretty girl.”   Her voice dropped low. She stepped in close, blocking his path and forcing him to stop walking.  He could feel her body heat in the chill air. He shivered, heart hammering. 

 

“I won’t be your girlfriend.” 

 

She laughed, a flash of white teeth. Then her face was by his ear, warm breath causing goosebumps on his neck. 

 

“And your pretty little pullup? It’s pink. A girl’s diaper. I saw it in the bag. You tried to hide it when you showed Joonie.”

 

Sam froze. This was his fondest dream and worst nightmare brought to life. Zoey teased him but there was no malice in her tone, no intent to humiliate. It was too much too fast, and made his heart beat erratically. He just wanted to wear his thin padding in public in peace. Being teased by an attractive girl the first time out was overwhelming. 

 

He tried to calm his racing thoughts. No way out but forward. Quit thinking. Act. Don’t react. Don’t fall to pieces in a pathetic panic attack. He’d already nearly fainted on her once. He wasn’t going to do it again. He swallowed audibly, forcing his emotions down. 

 

He moved his crutches and took a step away from her.  “What’s under my skirt or not is none of your business. You’re not my girlfriend. We barely know each other. I’m not the kind of person who shacks up with strangers.”

 

Pretty girl. The label made him feel all warm and tingly inside, like a small hidden part of him was being acknowledged. Being feminine felt so right, who he truly was. Not a girl. Not a traditional boy. A girly boy? Neither?  He didn’t understand or know all the different terms. They were just labels. He didn’t care about labels. 

 

More importantly, he was happy for the first time in a very long time. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt this way. Not because of Zoey or Joonie, though they certainly helped him dig deep and find his courage. He stopped fighting himself, stopped suppressing it and faced his fears. 

 

Zoey fell into step besides him once again. She walked as close as his crutches would allow. He sensed that if she could, she would’ve slung an arm over his shoulder and pulled him in so their bodies touched. 

 

“That’s your problem. You don’t know how to let loose and have fun. Life is so much better when you don’t give a shit what other people think. That’s why you came here, right?”

 

Damn her. Somehow she saw right through him. Shame kept him from admitting the truth. “I came here for something different. To see the sights and sounds of an old historical city. I can do that on my own. Without a pervert obsessed with my diapers. Panties! I meant panties!” Sam flushed and would not look at her. He hurried his pace but Zoey easily matched him step for step, as natural and easy as breathing. 

 

The throng of people grew more dense as they approached a main thoroughfare. 

 

“So you put your pullup on?”  Zoey dropped back to ogle his petite posterior.  “Don’t worry, your diaper isn’t visible at all.” 

 

“Quit it! And it’s a pullup, not a diaper. They’re very different things. Call them panties. Quit saying it out loud!”   His face was beet red. He was too scared to see if any passers by overheard her words. He knew they stared. People always stared at a person on crutches. 

 

He was too irritated and embarrassed to be relieved his pullup was not noticeable like Joonie’s bulging diapers were. He knew the thin padding of a pullup would be invisible. He specifically chose pullups for that reason. He had checked at home before he even packed for his trip. He had tried on all his clothes over a pullup.

 

The old doubts and insecurities nibbled away at him like termites chewing rotten wood. He tried to escape those feelings but no matter how far he ran, they followed. Until he opened the proverbial window and chucked them out. Just as Zoey said. Damn her. For an idiot, she could be smart. 

 

Sam stopped moving and pointedly waited for her to stand next to him.  He waited for some smart quip but she was silent behind him.  “Zoey?”

 

A hand cupped his bottom, giving the thin padding a firm and through grope. She giggled shamelessly.  “Now when I do that I can definitely feel your diaper.”

 

Sam reflexively jerked at the unexpected touch. He pushed her hand away with one of his crutches. “Zoey!” 

 

She giggled and held her hands up in surrender. 

 

“They’re pullups. Touch me again like that and I will slap you. I don’t care if you are a girl.” 

 

“Oooh. Scary little chihuahua.”  She laughed at his indignation then started walking. 

 

Sam scrambled to catch up. She paused, waiting for him. 

 

Most people on the busy sidewalk moved when they saw his crutches. Some gave him annoyed looks. He ignored them. A few refused to give any space, so Zoey jostled them aside. They glared at her but kept on their way. 

 

“Pervert. That was an absolutely perverted thing to do. Only a complete degenerate pervert would grab someone like that.” 

 

“You already used that one, sweetcheeks.”

 

“If the shoe fits…”

 

“Oh, don’t be such a prude. It’s not sexy at all.”  

 

His blue eyes popped wide open. He nearly choked on his discomfort. Being called cute and pretty made him feel all fuzzy and warm inside. But sexy? From the girl who previously laughed at his pullups? It made no sense. She confused the hell out of him. Unless she was just messing with him. 

 

He frowned. “You’re not as funny as you think.” 

 

Zoey caught the immediate shift in his mood and knew she’d gone too far. Again.  “I can’t help it. You’re like a sweet Catholic schoolgirl. Something innocent and virginal I just wanna sully.” 

 

Sam rolled his eyes.  “Lame. You sound like a jock in an 80s teen movie.” 

 

“But it got you to loosen up.”

 

He glared at her.  “I can relax and party around people I know and trust. You’re not in either category.”

 

Zoey stepped in front of him again and stopped. He almost bumped into her. She grinned like the Cheshire cat. “So you’re saying you want to get to know me. Such a flirt!”  People in the crowd behind them were forced to go around them. They shot Zoey dirty looks she was oblivious to. 

 

“Not at all!”  Sam blushed, showing that was what he wanted. She’d never let him live it down if he admitted it. 

 

“Come on, Sammy baby. Tell me your deepest, darkest secret and I’ll tell you mine.”

 

He stared at her like she’d spouted another head. “You crash my lunch, tease me about my pullups and publically grope me. That doesn’t inspire sharing confidences.”

 

Zoey moved closer so their noses nearly touched in an Eskimo kiss. Sam leaned back. Her lopsided smile was relaxed and disarming like a warm cup of coffee on a chill fall day. Maybe with a dash of cyanide. 

 

“Sure it does. Who better to spill your guts to than a stranger? They don’t know you at all so you get honest, unfiltered feedback. Besides, we’re not strangers anymore. We shared food. You saved me from a sleazeball.”  She said.

 

Her voice softened. Her eyes focused on him, drawing him in. Her hands gently touched his slim shoulders. Her touch was tender, as if she was afraid of accidentally hurting him, squeezing too hard and breaking his delicate bones. 

 

“We’re both here. Alone in a big old city. Divine intervention brought us together. Karma. Kismet. Destiny. Don’t fight what was meant to be.”

 

His expression flattened. “That’s the biggest load of crap I ever heard. And I’ve had to sit through a million ‘You’re disability makes you special! You’re such an inspiration!’ speeches.”  

 

Sam tried to push Zoey aside. She wouldn’t move, so he pivoted around her.  He had no idea where he was going; he just followed the crowd to get away from her.  She let him escape for several moments, then closed the distance with ease. She once again fell into step beside him, matching her fast past to his slow one. 

 

“Oh, come on, cupcake.” 

 

The nickname made his stomach flutter.  “Call me that again and I’ll deck you with my crutch. Why do you want to hang with me so badly? Seriously.”  

 

“Because you’re more fun than being by myself. Do you really want to be all alone? That’s boring. It sucks. So let’s be alone together! It’s Carnival! We’ll have some fun then go back to our old boring lives when it’s over. What happens in New Orleans, stays in New Orleans.”  She grinned. 

 

He mulled it over. Maybe she had a point, even if she was annoying. Maybe pressure and teasing from her would help him keep the courage to stay padded the rest of the trip. Even his thin pullup helped him feel more comfortable in his own skin. 

 

He sighed in resignation. “Fine.”

 

She beamed. Sometimes he felt like she saw right through him.  “Groovy, baby. You’re amusing for a stick in the mud. I could tease you all day. Your cheeks get all pink and you puff up like a yappy little Chihuahua. It’s adorable. We’re gonna have so much fun. Let’s start by getting to know one another.” 

 

She liked games? Well, Sam could play games too. “Okay. You first. What’s your most secret secret?”

 

Zoey glanced around, gaze settling on the pink rougarou plushie dangling from his bag. She leaned in close and whispered in his ear.  “I’m a werewolf.”

 

Sam suppressed a snort of laughter. “Cool. And I’m a psychic. But it doesn’t work all the time. Sometimes I just know random facts or something will happen. Most of the time I don’t. Like if I knew you were coming to the diner today I would have made sure not to be there.”

 

Her eyes lit up with sudden interest like she believed he was telling the truth, gray hue shifting to an almost green. 

 

He flushed, suddenly self-conscious. He hadn’t meant to let so much slip out, but once he started he couldn’t stop, like a cork popping out of a pressurized bottle. “It’s weird. Random. And it usually doesn’t work. I have no control over it.”

 

Bullshit. It was all total bullshit. None of that crap was real. He refused to believe it. But they were playing the bullshit game and it was a good if pathetic story. 

 

“You don’t sound happy about it. Do you want more control over it?”

 

The crowd grew even more dense as they neared a busy mainstreet. Jazz music played faintly in the distance under the rumble of pedestrian conversation. Scents of fried and grilled food filled the air. Zoey looked around, scanning the crowd. Sam wondered how she could possibly be thinking of food again. 

 

“Only if it would get me a winning lottery ticket. Otherwise, I’d rather turn invisible. That’s much more useful. Oh, hey. Looks like a parade is about to start.”

 

Before his trip, he had googled Mardi Gras information. Being prepared for something new helped him feel less anxious about it. Mardi Gras was not just one big parade like at Thanksgiving in New York.  There were multiple parades on various days and times. Each parade was thrown by a different krewe. Those organizations put a lot of time, money, passion and dedication into their colorful and elaborate floats and costumes. Some of the biggest and oldest krewes were centuries old and dated back to the very beginnings of Mardi Gras in New Orleans. 

 

“You’re right. Everyone is lining up. Let’s get a good spot. This is my first parade.”

 

Sam blinked in surprise. “You haven’t seen a parade yet?”

 

“Nope. Been busy. Didn’t even get to look at a parade schedule. But I’ve had plenty of king cake. It’s delicious. Have you tried it? How many parades have you seen?”  Zoey glossed over her activities as if hoping to distract him. He wondered how hard she’d been looking for the old book she wanted. 

 

“I’ve caught one every day. Sometimes two.”  

 

The press of the crowd grew tighter and denser as they entered the throng of people along the parade route. People lined the sidewalks, pressed shoulder to shoulder for a good view. Folks jostled one another, fighting over open spots. Sam stopped walking when people started bumping into him. Twice he almost had his crutches knocked out from his grasp by careless kicks as passersby struggled for space.  Without his crutches, he’d easily lose his balance and fall over. 

 

“Zoey. I changed my mind. Let’s go. I don’t wanna see a parade.”

[The Stupid Bowl]

I didn't even know it was superbowl weekend until I heard people talking about it. 🤣 I'm not much of a sportsfan. But I know a lot of people enjoy it! So if you're a sports fan or football fanatic, I hope you enjoy watching the game and I hope it's exciting for you!😁

 

[Twenty years!]

[My roommate puked on my arm!]

Steals my dirty clothes. Lays and rolls on my clean clothes if I don't put them away right away. Constantly cries to go in and out. Bites me if she doesn't get her way. Sits by the fridge and cries for milk or whipped cream or vanilla ice cream or her cat treats and completely ignores her full bowl of food. Steals my dinner if it smells good. Constantly beats the crap out of her little brother and pulls his fur out. 

[Scoop this bear]

Oh I remember this! When Yogi goes from stealing picnic baskets to stealing diapers ... 😂. Stealing dirty diapers from garbage cans?  Ok I don't wanna know what that bear is up to!  But that would also make a fun story!