LL Medico Diapers and More Bambino Adult Baby Diapers


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Livingbylies last won the day on November 10 2014

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  1. Question: What does the donation appear as, in terms of names and labels on the invoice?
  2. I have to admit, I wasn't initially that interested by the concept (I've seen it done a couple times, and wasn't expecting much,) but I read the first chapter anyways and... Well, I'm surprised to say that I'm curious as to what's going to happen next. Namely, the relationship between the foster mom and her son has a different cadence to it than what I normally see, and I'm curious what's up with his fever - It's not kinky or fetish related, so it's not something that usually crops up in this genre of story - And that's really nice to see.
  3. Maybe I'm just dumb, but looking at that... Where does it actually go? I've read the description on the website, but comparing that picture to pictures of the sheath, I'm completely clueless as to where it's supposed to attach and how it's supposed to stay put.
  4. I write them in Google Docs. Everything I post gets at least one editing sweep, usually two or three - I also have a full outline for any story before I begin writing. For context, each chapter of The Fifth Column is between 3,000-4,000 words long. (Of the three currently either done or in progress.) I plan on writing eleven chapters plus an epilogue, as per my outline. At a good clip, I can write 750wph, though that can range from 500-1000wph depending on context - Not including editing passes, then, a chapter takes between 3 and 8 hours to write, averaging around 5 - If I were to wait until the whole story was done before posting, that amounts to 60 hours of writing, plus another 30 or so editing - This assumes no major rewrites. We'll assume at least one chapter needs to be scrapped and rewritten, so 100 hours. I can usually make about an hour a day to work on it, unless work picks up and I get really busy on a given day - We'll say I can write 25 hours in a given month. That's more than what actually happens, but 100 is easily divisible by 25. Four months, then. I don't say this to brag or anything, I just want to establish some context - I don't want to wait that long to post what I'm working on. Would I be able to edit out continuity errors more effectively? Yes, absolutely. But there's a certain point where the cost outweighs the benefit for me, and if I try to work on something for that long without sharing it with anyone, I'd lose my mind. (For more context, chapters for Under Lock and Key averaged 1,500 words or so with the same amount of chapters - I was trying to go with something approximating a viegnette style with it, partly just for style reasons and partly because I was trying to prevent myself from getting writer's fatigue by keeping the chapters easy to write in only one or two sittings. That ended up biting me in the ass because some scenes ended up way too rushed and I didn't want some chapters to be double or tripple the length of others.)
  5. So, I really don't want to sound like I'm just whinging here, but it's something that I end up struggling with very regularly and I haven't really figured out a good solution to it, so I'm going to post here and hope it doesn't sound too whiney. In short, I find myself getting easily frustrated with my writing projects, and that frustration tends to lead to my not wanting to continue and - Eventually - I often end up dropping a story unfinished or just writing it off in a half-assed way that I really don't like. Partly, it's that I sometimes just end up struggling with a section and can't write it in a way that I like, and end up getting sick of the project (As happened with my last story, "Under Lock and Key", the last chapter of which is pretty crap,) sometimes it's because I realize after posting a chapter that I don't like a previous plot-point but can't go back and change it (Also happened with "Under Lock and Key", I ended up dropping a few plot threads at random either because I just spaced out and forgot about them, or changed my mind on them, and that ended up making the whole story just read worse than it should have,) and partly because I get writer envy if I feel like it's not getting a response. (As is happening with my current story, "The Fifth Column".) Now, I'm an adult (diapers and pacifier notwithstanding) and I know that just because I write something it doesn't mean I'm entitled to an audience or anything like that. If nobody reads my story, that's not their fault, and if nobody likes it, ditto - There is zero obligation for anyone to read my work just because I wrote it. However, I have trouble shaking the frustration nonetheless, because it feels like either I'm grossly overestimating my own writing capabilities, or else the quality of what I'm writing just doesn't matter. I *think* that I've generally improved as a writer compared to where I was a year ago, or two years ago, or five. Despite all the things I did wrong with it, I think "Under Lock and Key" was probably one of my best bits of fetish writing, and that for the most part you can track my writing in terms of quality with a pretty steady growth as you go forward in time. And forget fetish content, I think that my writing in 'The Fifth Column' is probably some of the best that I've done period - A few minor hiccups aside, I'm really proud of what I've done so far. The problem is that it doesn't seem like anyone cares one way or the other - I'm getting the same responses now that I got a year ago or five years ago. It might be confirmation bias, but I almost feel like I'm getting less of a reaction now than I used to. Just to repeat, I'm not saying that people are obligated to read or react to anything I've done, but the fact that nobody seems to *want* to read or react to anything I've done really undermines my drive to keep working on a project. Similarly, if I realize that I screwed up the story irreparably and either have to write a crappy retcon or just ignore a plot thread in order to make the plot work, it kills my drive to keep writing. Getting stuck on a problem that I can't fix kills my drive to keep writing, too. But those are issues that I've been improving on just by writing out better plot outlines and thinking ahead more clearly, and by getting more experience at tackling problems - Maybe there's a better solution than 'git gud', but gitting gud seems to be doing the trick, albeit slowly. So... Yeah. If anyone else has experienced this or just has any advice, I'd appreciate it. LBL out.
  6. I want to clarify: I don't mind that he's advertising. I don't mind it when someone posts a link to their Patreon page either, or any other kind of self promotion. I would mind if he only posted the start of a story, with a 'Buy my book to read the rest', but this is a completely self-contained story, the other stories in his collection for sale aren't related. I mean, I'm not going to buy his stories, but I don't mind it. He's posting free content for anyone to read.
  7. I'm interested by this, though I'm curious how it would work. How do we determine turns? What do we do if people's interests don't mesh? Half the trouble isn't just finding someone to domme, it's finding someone to domme whose interests are the same as yours. Do you have a write-up or any set of structure for how this would function, or is it still in the concept phase?
  8. First thing: I think you double posted this. Either that, or my internet is being fritzy and is displaying two posts. Second thing: I have some critical thoughts on this, but I'm not sure if you'll want to hear them, since it seems like you may have posted this more as a teaser/advertisement for your other works than to get a response here. If you would like to hear what I have to say, just say the word. If not, no big deal.
  9. I'm definitely interested to watch how this goes. The lingering descriptions of how she is small and young seem to hint at what's happening next, but regardless it's a really unique concept that I definitely want to see more of.
  10. Chapter 2 BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP BEE- *SLAM*. Bridgette woke up in a cold sweat and smacked her hand down on the alarm clock, cursing herself for setting it in the first place. She groaned, sitting back in bed and glancing over at the clock to see what time it was. 1730, already later than she wanted. She had a good excuse to sleep so late, of course, but that didn’t mean she didn’t have responsibilities she needed to be taken care of. She sighed and laid back on the bed with a squish, her blankets warm and inviting, making her want to ignore those responsibilities and just sleep for another week, but her skin felt damp and cold, and... Frowning, Bridgette sat up again, putting a hand down on the blankets. They felt soggy and cold, and she realized with a start that it wasn’t a cold sweat she’d woken to. Sniffing, she caught the distinctive ammoniac scent of stale urine. She’d noticed it a couple times before, sometimes hovering around older veterans, but it had never occurred to her that the smell might at some point come from her. It had, though. I wet the bed. Her mind raced with the thought, running down the thought, and what it implied. It could be some random freak incident - Everyone could remember some time when they’d had an accident, right? - but that didn’t seem even remotely likely. Bedwetting was the first sign of veterancy, and the moment that someone found out, she was going to get taken out of the pilot lineup. She had only gone on ten missions. Ten. That was barely the start to her career, not the place to end it. Nobody was a hero for running ten missions, not even for succeeding at ten missions; those were rookie numbers. Nobody would remember or care about the pilot who got drummed out at ten missions. Sure, they’d give her some token supervisory position, but that was a dead end for someone with only ten missions. Bridgette was not about to end her career, not so soon after she’d begun, and not over something as trivial as a wet bed. She had only one option: She was going to have to hide it. If she was symptomatic, then Levi would eventually notice at a checkup, but early detection was almost always done by watching for the symptoms, and so she could hide it - For now, at least - with a lie. Eventually there would be detectable nervous degeneration and speech impairment, but accidents could be hidden. Veterancy be damned, she was going to keep fighting for as long as possible. Twenty missions wouldn’t be anything legendary, but twenty successful missions would at least get her to the point of being an ace, someone with a noteworthy legacy. It would have to do. Throwing off her wet covers, Bridgette climbed out of bed and looked at the damage. Her panties were soaked, and the covers and sheets were obviously stained and wet. However, when she peeled the sheets off the bed, she was relieved to see that the mattress at least hadn’t sustained much damage. Only a small yellow patch had leaked through, she could clean that up or hide it easily enough. All she had to do, then, was get her sheets to the laundry room before anyone came looking for her. That would be easy, all she had to do was bundle everything up in a bag, get dressed, and walk down a hallway and take one elevator ride - or, to be safe, take one flight of stairs to avoid people - and she’d be home free. It was a little weird for a pilot to be doing her own laundry instead of waiting for someone on staff to take care of it like they did once a week anyways, but if anyone asked, she could explain that she didn’t shower before she slept and didn’t want to sleep in dirty sheets for a week. It was even true, which would help her sell the story. Stripping out of her panties, she took a fresh pair from the small dresser that kept her clothes, neatly pressed and folded in a row. She almost pulled them on, then hesitated. Her legs and back felt sticky, and she didn’t want to put her uniform on like that. Setting aside the clean underwear, she walked across the tiny bedroom to the even tinier attached bathroom so she could shower. She shut the door, turned on the hot water, then took a moment to look in the mirror. Despite how tired she felt, she still looked pretty great. The fitness regimen for pilots wasn’t as intensive as it was for ground troops, but it had a greater focus on endurance and stamina training over strength, and the exercise had left her with a lean, strong figure that underscored her already striking appearance. It was impossible to maintain any kind of tan without natural daylight, and she would have preferred her gold hair to be long and smooth, but those sorts of aesthetic complaints could be dealt with after she’d retired. Bridgette sighed, running a hand through her hair as she thought about it. The mirror was already starting to steam up, and rather than wiping it off so she could keep staring at her own naked body, she pulled back the curtain and stepped into the shower, letting the hot water flow over her. She took longer than she needed to, savoring the warmth and the clean feeling as the colony’s recycled water slowly cleaned away layers of sweat and dried urine. She knew that she should get out of the shower and smuggle the laundry downstairs as quickly as possible. Levi was already going to have her ass for being so late to the post-mission evaluation, and it was possible that he might get suspicious if she was evasive. It was going to be necessary to evaluations promptly in the future rather than blowing them off until it was convenient, to keep Levi from poking around in her business too much. She would also need to work to manage the symptoms. She could set an alarm at night to wake herself up use the bathroom. She might even be able to sneak something from the medical wing to help deal with any other accidents - After all, a lot of veterans had bedwetting issues, surely they had something to manage those problems. Stepping out of the shower, Bridgette grabbed a towel to dry off, but hesitated to open the bathroom door. She didn’t want to deal with this, she just wanted it to go away. This wasn’t supposed to be happening. Veterancy wasn’t supposed to set in for another twenty missions at the earliest. She was supposed to have months, even years before all of this, not twenty missions, tops, and then retirement to a tedious desk job until she had worked long enough to earn her pension. She could call it quits now, of course. Tell Levi she was showing symptoms of veterancy, and drop out. Nobody would look down on her for that. It was her right, it was even the military recommendation - If she went by the book, she could walk away, still of completely sound body. She could leave the military entirely, find a job within the colony. Of course, if she did that, she’d never be able to live with herself. She had invested years into training and work to get to this point. Hundreds of thousands of government dollars had gone into training and education to make her the best damned pilot on the planet, and she wasn’t about to throw away all of her hard effort. She could persevere. She could push through. She would push through. “It’s my duty,” she told herself, clenching her fists and steeling herself. “I can do this.” Her body had been completely dry for a few minutes, so she hung up the towel. Her room was temperature-controlled, so she wasn’t worried about being naked, she wouldn’t be cold. Pushing open the door, she strode into her room and then froze. “Levi!”, she blurted, taking a step back in surprise. Levi was in her room, standing over her bed with a frown, LINK pad in hand, making some kind of note Bridgette couldn’t see. When he heard her exclamation he turned, not at all surprised to see her. “Bridgette,” he said, coolly. “Care to explain what I’m seeing here?” “Get out of my room!” Bridgette blushed, crossing her arms over her exposed breasts. Levi rolled his eyes. “Bridgette, I’m your doctor. If you’re exhibiting symptoms of veterancy, I need to know about this.” Bridgette maintained her blush and kept her arms fixed in place. “This is still my room,” she said. “You are invading my privacy.” Tone gaining a note of annoyance, Levi said, “I give you a full body examination four times a month, don’t try and pull that. You’re just deflecting the issue so I don’t report that you had an accident.” “I’m not!” Bridgette exclaimed, receiving a skeptical look from Levi for the trouble. “It was just a coincidence. I was really tired after the last mission, and-” “Bridgette, I’m not stupid,” Levi said, shaking his head. “It’s on the bottom end of the percentile, but you have been piloting long enough to start showing symptoms if you aren’t lucky.” “Maybe you’re right,” Bridgette said, “But I was going to tell you once I’d gotten cleaned up.” Levi’s look of skepticism deepened, and he shook his head. “I know you. You were going to blow it off and lie about it during our post-mission eval, then try and cover it up until your symptoms are so pronounced that they’re impossible to miss.” Bridgette sighed, throwing up her hands in exasperation. “What do you want, Levi? I’m going to keep going on missions, and nobody is going to stop me.” Levi took a step forward, lowering his LINK pad. “I have to report this,” he said. “If I don’t, your symptoms are just going to get worse. If that happens, they’ll come after me, and I can’t afford to be discharged.” “I need this, Levi,” Bridgette pleaded, tightening her arms over her chest. “I’ve been training to be a pilot my whole life. You wouldn’t have been able to notice anything during our exam anyways if you hadn’t come in here. We can pretend this never happened, you can give me a clean bill of health, and if anyone finds out we’ll just say I lied to you. This doesn’t have to come back on you.” Levi took another step forward, pocketing his pad. “They’d still waste time and resources on an investigation. Besides, you’ll be a liability to the other pilots if you’re fighting veterancy and Jovians at the same time.” “I won’t,” Bridgette retorted. “The control pods convert signals and inputs into smooth motion, it’s not using my actual muscles or nerves. I’d be able to keep fighting even if I couldn’t walk.” Levi sighed, more disappointed than frustrated. “That’s not what I’m talking about. If you’re spending your time worrying about your condition and lying to the people you’re supposed to trust, you won’t be able to concentrate on battle. It doesn’t matter how well you can throw a punch, you need to work on a team. The survival of the colony depends on it.” “I can work on a team and deal with this at the same time. Let me prove it to you.” Levi shrugged, taking another step, so that there was only a foot of space between them. “Give me one good reason why I should do this.” Clenching her jaw and tightening her hands into fists, Bridgette looked down at the ground and tried to think what to say that would convince him. “Hey,” Levi said, putting his hands on Bridgette’s arms before she could come up with an appropriate argument. “Calm down. I’m on your side.” “I’m calm,” Bridgette said, still looking down at her bare feet. “No, you’re not. You’re more tense than a Hitchcock film.” “What?” “Hitchcock. He made movies in the twentieth century, back when they were in black and white. His films were some of the earliest to feature-” “You’re such a nerd.” Levi smiled, gently lowering Bridgette’s arms to her side, then catching her eyes. “You need to do this, don’t you?” “Yes,” Bridgette said, feeling herself relax a bit as her stance shifted to be less defensive. “I have to keep fighting. It’s the right thing to do.” Letting out a slow sigh, Levi nodded. “Then I guess I have no choice. I’ll help you fake the test results as long as I can.” Bridgette sighed in relief,letting out the breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding. “I’m not about to sell our best pilot down the river.” “Thank you,” Bridgette said. She briefly wondered if it was appropriate, then decided it didn’t matter and pulled Levi into a hug. “Thank you, so much. I promise, as soon as it gets to be too much, I’ll step down.” “Of course,” Levi said, putting his arms around Bridgette and hugging her tightly, hands warm against her lower back. “You know, we’re still going to need to have an evaluation. You’re not going to get a free pass on those just because I’m letting your results get fudged.” “What? Why?” Bridgette asked, pulling away slightly. His embrace lingered for a moment, and then he let go. “If you’re just throwing out the results, why bother?” “‘Cause I still need to know how you’re doing,” Levi said. “If we track it closely enough, we should be able to estimate your rate of nervous degeneration now that it’s started.” “And that’s important because..?” Bridgette asked. “If we know how quickly you’re taking nervous damage, we can figure out how many more missions you can safely pilot.” “Right,” Bridgette said, pulling completely away. “If you help me get this laundry cleaned up, we can go do that. Nobody should notice if we run it through the wash early, right?” “I can do you one better,” Levi said. “I have access to the senior commander’s medical supplies. I can get you plastic sheets and stain resistant bedding.” “Oh,” Bridgette said, blushing as she crossed to her dresser, retrieving a clean uniform. “Yeah, that makes sense.” “I’ll get some diapers while I’m at it,” Levi added. Bridgette froze up again, her blush deepening. “I don’t need those,” she said softly. Making a show of sighing, Levi shook his head. “Bridgette, plastic sheets and stain resistant bedding won’t keep the accidents from happening. You’re going to need something to stop the accidents, and unless you’ve invented a better way to deal with incontinence, diapers are the best solution we’ve got.” Bridgette tried to think up a good argument, but couldn’t. “Maybe this won’t happen again? I was really tired before: I can set an alarm, and-” “Bridgette, be serious with me here. None of that is going to work. This is veterancy we’re dealing with here, it doesn’t just go away because you want it to.” Levi sighed, pulling the wet sheets from her bed and setting them in a pile on the floor. “If you want my help, you at least need to meet me halfway. It’ll be easier to maintain the lie if you don’t have to sneak laundry downstairs. Wear the diapers, or I’m going to mark you down as exhibiting symptoms and you’ll be done.” Bridgette sighed. “Dammit, you’re not really leaving me much of a choice here.” “That’s the point,” Levi said. “I’m putting my neck on the line, so we’re doing this my way. Now get dressed and go make sure the hall is empty, I’ll run this downstairs. And Bridgette?” “Yeah?” Bridgette asked, as she pulled on a clean pair of panties. Levi gave her a reassuring smile. “Don’t be too hard on yourself. It’s not your fault, it’s just random bad luck.” Bridgette smiled back, digging in the dresser for a clean bra. “Thanks.” … “So…this is it…” Bridgette said, holding the diaper in her hands. They’d done their mandatory post-mission evaluation, washed her old laundry, and smuggled in the plastic sheet and stain resistant bedding. All that was left to put on a diaper so that she could get to bed. “Was there anything less, uh…?” “Indiscreet?” Levi supplied, shaking his head. “Yeah,” Bridgette said, turning over the diaper in her hands. It was a smooth white rectangle, soft and plasticy to the touch. Folded on itself, it was almost four inches thick, and even when she unfolded the diaper into an hourglass shape, it still seemed like the padding was gratuitously thick. “I’m not going to need this. Even if I have more problems while sleeping - And I’m still not going to concede that recurring problems are a guarantee - I’m not going to need something this...” Her cheeks flushed red, and she stopped trying to find words. “They don’t have any options for pilots experiencing minor bedwetting accidents,” Levi explained. “It’s easier and cheaper to just have one style and have that one style be more thorough than needed. There’s one small caveat for convenience; The diaper is designed to wick away moisture without any chance of residue or prolonged skin contact with the urine. You don’t need baby powder unless you start having...” He cleared his throat, then said, “You currently don’t need any kind of powder to prevent a rash.” “That’s alright, I guess,” Bridgette said. “And you're sure there’s nothing thinner?” Levi shrugged. “There are some training pads that can be pinned in place to your panties, but those aren’t going to stop a full accident even if they happen to stay in place while you’re asleep.” Bridgette continued staring at the diaper. “The exam didn’t show any signs of nervous damage,” she said. “Are you sure-” “That’s because the first signs are always symptomatic,” Levi interrupted. “So yes, I’m sure that your diapers are necessary. Look, Bridgette, it’s late, and you have mission reports to go over in the morning. Put on the diaper and get some rest.” “Yeah, yeah,” Bridgette said. She definitely wanted to get some sleep, but… “Look, are you completely, absolutely certain that this is necessary?” “I’m not going to help you sneak laundry downstairs every morning,” Levi said. “That’s a surefire way to get us both caught and discharged. Do you need help putting it on?” “No!” Bridgette blushed, shooting Levi an annoyed look. “Just…turn around.” Levi rolled his eyes but complied, facing the wall. “Yes ma’am, Bambi.” Bridgette examined the diaper for another few moments, scowling. “Lieutenant, not-” “If I’m helping you break the law, I’m going to call you whatever I want,” Levi replied. “Nice wall, by the way.” Sighing, Bridgette couldn’t think of any other good excuses to put it off. Slipping her panties down to her ankles and kicking them off her feet, she spread out her legs, pulling the diaper between them. It was initially awkward, but she was able to hold the thick padding in place with one hand while pulling the tapes on one side into place, and then repeating it on the other side. When she let go, the diaper pulled heavily to one side, her left leg leaving an inch of air between her thigh and the edge of the diaper. She tried to pull the tape off to reposition it, but it was firmly stuck, and when she yanked, it came away with the plastic of the diaper. Exhaling in annoyance, she looked over at Levi, catching him as he looked quickly back at the wall. “I said to turn around,” she commanded, ripping off the other three tapes of the diaper and wadding up the whole thing so she could throw it in the trash. “You said you didn’t need help,” Levi shot back, turning his whole body away from the wall. “The way you do it, your diaper is going to be slightly worse than useless. Here, just let me help you.” “No way,” Bridgette said. “You are not going to put a diaper on me. That’s where I’m drawing the line.” “What? No,” Levi said, shaking his head. “I’m not going to change you or anything, just going to guide you through your first diaper change so you know how.” Bridgette fumed for a moment, then nodded. “Fine,” she said, pulling open the top drawer of her dresser and snatching another diaper from where Levi had put them. “Lie down,” Levi said, crouching down and patting the floor. “It’ll be a lot easier if you’re on the ground.” Bridgette complied, unfolding the diaper once she was on her back. Levi nodded. “Okay, now you’ll slide the diaper under your butt, like this...” He took the diaper from her hands, waited for her to lift her butt from the ground, and then slid it in place. “Then you just fold it over, like so,” he did as he said, folding the diaper between her legs. “Yeah, I’ve got it,” Bridgette said, starting to sit up so that she could pull the tapes into place like she had before. Levi put a hand on her wrist, stopping her. “Let me show you so you don’t mess it up again,” he said, gently moving her hand away. “Now you have do the tapes one at a time, not both on the same side. You want the diaper to be about…this… snug .” As he spoke, he pulled two of the tapes into place, sticking them down, and then followed suit with the other two tapes. “Feel the waistband. That’s about how tight it should be, so it won’t leak, but it also won’t cut off your circulation.” Bridgette watched and took note, sitting up once Levi had everything in place. She ran a finger under the waistband as he’d directed, feeling how taut the elastic was. “Alright, I think I’ve got it, that’s- Wait!” She frowned, giving Levi a light shove. “You said you weren’t going to put the diaper on me, just show me how.” Levi shrugged. “Best way to show you is to demonstrate. If I’d let you do it, we would have wasted half a dozen diapers until you got the tapes on right, and I can’t just steal as many diapers as you waste, we have to be careful.” He stood, clapping his hands together as though he were brushing away dirt. “You’re all set for the night, and now you know how so you won’t need my help in the future. And here, one more thing.” Reaching in a pocket, Levi withdrew a small metallic object, about the size of a thumbnail. Before Bridgette could ask what it was, he stuck it to the front of her diaper, pressing down for a moment so that the sticky back of the object would stay put. “This will give an alert to your LINK when it detects wetness. That way, if you start having an accident while you’re asleep, it’ll wake you up. Should help, a little, at least in the short term.” “Thanks,” Bridgette said, looking down as she stood to her feet. The diaper felt strange between her legs, an unfamiliar bulk that made it impossible to close her legs normally. She could walk around well enough, but all the motions felt a little bit off, making her steps awkward and clumsy. It reminded her of learning to walk in artificial gravity - Everything was familiar, but awkward and strange at the same time. She took a few tentative steps to get her balance, then sat down on her bed, making a small puff of air escape from the diaper. “I need to leave,” Levi said. “But good luck. I hope I’m wrong about all of this and it really is a fluke.” “Hit the overhead light on your way out the door,” Bridgette said. “Goodnight.” The lights went dark, leaving Bridgette lit by only the soft glow of her alarm clock, and a blinking light on her LINK that indicated it was fully charged. She unplugged the pad from its charging port, then lied back on bed, spreading her legs out so they wouldn’t rub up against the elastic of her diaper. She didn’t want anything to remind her of the situation she was in, including any unnecessary sound or contact with the padding she had to wear. It was hard to forget when every tiny movement elicited a crinkle, and every shifting of her hips or legs made the diaper rub against her skin, but she did her best. As tired as she was, it only took a few minutes to get to sleep.
  11. No such luck. I see the username, but no option to change it.
  12. Is it possible to change my username? I've looked through the profile and account info pages and the last few months of posts here, but can't find anything to let me know how. If it's just a 'Request help from a mod' thing, I'm wanting to change it to "Living BL". I came up with my current username a long time ago, and while I thought it sounded 'cool' and 'edgy' at the time, I've grown consistently more unsatisfied with it in the past year, as I think the last part doesn't really make sense and gives a bad impression of who I am. If I could get some help changing that, I'd really appreciate it.
  13. This may not be everyone's experience, but I found that I pretty much was unable to use the HolyTrainer, for a pretty obnoxious reason: Almost inevitably, within a couple hours of putting it on, I would pop out. The ring stayed in place, but the 'cage' (or whatever term it goes by) was just left dangling. Assuming that something was just too loose, I tried a tighter ring, but that was too small, and I couldn't get it to fit on. While that might not be everyone's experience, it's worth keeping in mind, especially since it costs a couple hundred dollars - That's a lot of money that I basically threw away on something that I can't use.
  14. As a bit of trivia, my working title for very early drafts was 'Padded Rim'. Mechas and Kaiju movies played some heavily influence in the conceptual phase here. That was, at least partly, kind of my intent: Tell an AB/DL story using a story framework that people wouldn't normally think of as fitting or working at all. So far, so good! I'm going to try and have a new chapter out once every week or two. I'm trying to decide if I should bother adding the illustrations to each one, since while it's a fun drawing exercise, it takes a really long-ass time and might slow down my updates.
  15. Hello, and welcome to the site! It's not a bad start at all. You have a few grammatical errors, but nothing too major. The biggest thing I'm going to point out there is that you typically want to separate different characters' dialogue with a new paragraph. So, for example, instead of how you have it written now, it might be something like this: About halfway through his first class Kenny got a text message, it read "This is Dan from your ad, this is Kenny right?" Kenny immediately responded "Yep, hey Dan nice to meet you, I'm actually in the middle of class right now but would it be alright if I texted you later?" Moments later Dan responded that it would be fine. Kenny was so lost in thought about Dan and all of the possibilities that awaited him, he wasn't able to pay attention in any of his classes. All he could think about was texting Dan when he was done with class. It's a minor change, but it makes the dialogue a lot easier to follow. As for the content itself... Personally, I can't help but be a little appalled at how naive Kenny is acting, but I suppose that's necessary for the setup to work. You rush things a little bit, and it seems like you spend a lot of time repeating information that isn't important, or IS important but is easy to figure out. For example, I'm going to take your first couple of paragraphs, and go through them: Kenny was a typical college senior going to school in Southern California. He was graduating in May with an undergraduate degree in business. - This is okay, in that it sets up bits of info Kenny's character, but you really don't need to establish it this thoroughly. Does it matter that he's graduating in May, or what his degree is in? Also, in two sentences, you mention that he's a college senior, he's going to school, he's graduating, and he's getting and undergraduate degree. All of these lines let the audience know that he's in college, you don't need to list it four times. Kenny had a close group of friends and was very good at balancing his school, work, and social life. - Again, I have to ask, is this important? Since it's being told to us in third person exposition, it doesn't really let the readers know more about Kenny's character. He's apparently organized and intelligent, but that doesn't really give us an insight into his personality. If it's important that he is a well balanced individual with friends and a job, you need to show it, either with dialogue or by having him take actions to demonstrate it. If it's not important, you shouldn't be mentioning it at the very beginning of the story. Kenny was also a bi ABDL. - Here's a problematic line, but not for the reasons you might think. For the purposes of this story, this is probably the most important thing we need to know about his character. Why is it problematic, then? Well, because you explain this really well in the very next paragraph. It's redundant, and since it's again told in third person exposition, it doesn't let us get to know Kenny any better. He had never told anyone about his fetish and had experimented with others in the past but he had never had anything steady or constant. Kenny was also an occasional bedwetter, particularly when he had consumed alcohol. - This seems like important information, so it needs to go somewhere, but you're still telling the audience things directly instead of demonstrating it. If I seem harsh on this first paragraph, don't worry, things get a lot better. It's a very, very common mistake for first-time writers to include a few lines or a paragraph of pure exposition at the start of their stories, and it's understandable, since you want everything to make sense moving forward, but it's dull to read and generally your audience is going to forget what they just read by the time they've read a page worth of text. The night before the new semester began, Kenny posted an ad on craigslist, like he did every semester, the title read "ABDL looking for others. - This is the best line so far. You establish that he's an ABDL by showing him do something, rather than just telling the audience. You also establish that he's bisexual by having him say he's looking for 'Others' instead of specifying a gender. It's clear that he's not very confident or well versed in the fetish community, since he's using Craigslist, and since you mention he's done this many times before, it also establishes his expectations. It might be a little rushed, but this is far better writing and does a good job of explaining things without just telling it directly to the audience. He wasn't expecting much of a response, his past posts hadn't garnered much interest, but this one was different. He awoke the next morning to a new email in his inbox. - More good stuff. I don't think you need to say 'But this one was different', though. You already said that his past posts didn't get any interest, and you're about to say that he got some interest on this one, so it's apparent to the reader that things are different - You don't need to explain it, because your writing already did a good job of explaining it. He had a response to his ad. Kenny thought to himself "hmm I wonder if this one will be real or just someone asking what ABDL meant...". I like this line. You could probably have him speak it aloud (Talking to himself) instead of thinking it, but it's the first bit of personality that we've seen Kenny actively display, and it also gives a good sense of his past troubles getting any response online. The message read "Hello, my name is Dan, I am a strict daddy and I have been looking for a sub little since I moved to town. If you are serious please respond with your details". Kenny quickly responded with his information and hurriedly got ready for class. - I'm not going to give your entire chapter a play-by-play, so instead I'm going to dump later criticism and commentary here. I'm not sure what's going to happen with Danny, since I can't see what your story outline notes are, but based off of his behavior in the story so far, he's either going to be a predator, or else he's just really bad at being a dom. Neither of these things are bad, I can think of several very good stories that involve nonconsensual regression and ABDL play, I just think you should be aware of it moving forward and keep it in mind - His actions make him into someone that is obviously going to try and take advantage of Kenny, or at least into someone who doesn't understand how a healthy dom/sub relationship works. Since Kenny is naive, this sort of works for the purposes of the story, but you might want Dan make him more charming or suave, so that Kenny doesn't seem like an idiot when he inevitably falls for whatever Dan's trap is. (Or, if Dan isn't a bad guy, and it's just two people about to have a lot of consensual kinky fun in a marina, then make sure that Dan clearly knows what he's doing.) He changed out of his wet diaper and hopped in the shower. - Minor note here. You never mentioned that Kenny was in a diaper, much less that it was wet. Tying into what you mentioned earlier, you could have him think or talk to himself when he wakes up, expressing annoyance that he wet the bed again, or perhaps some other emotion - He's an ABDL, after all, maybe he doesn't mind bedwetting. Either way, you should have him acknowledge it rather than just mentioning it in passing. All in all, I think you're off to a good start here, and I look forward to seeing what you write next.