PeculiarChangeling

"Drinking contest sounds good," she said, handing over the cup. "I can knock down a few cups." Grinning, she followed him out back, sat down at the table across from another girl, maybe a year older than her, and was given a pitcher. "When do we sta..." "Go!" Someone yelled, and the other girl started drinking. Cursing, Sarah grabbed her pitcher and started chugging, feeling the cold beer down her throat. It felt like it was taking ages, but she couldn't check on her opposition without lowering the pitcher. Just a little left... And done. She tossed down the pitcher, looking at the other girl, who was barely halfway done with hers. Giving a victorious cheer, she stood up. "Yeah! Woo-hoo!" She said, doing a celebratory dance and falling into the arms of the boy. "Nice job. I'd make up a line about buying you a drink, but I think it'd be wasted," he said, grinning. What do you do? (Trying something new here. Anything you say that could plausibly be done.)

Dreams do have a meaning, like I said. They mean that the things occurring in them exist somewhere in your memory, and have probably been thought of recently. There's nothing mystical about it.

Sarah decided, if she was gonna work up the nerve to talk to boys, she'd need to get a little bit drunk first. Walking over to the keg, she grabbed a cup and began filling it up. The yellow beer filled it quickly, and just as she was about to take a sip someone stopped her. "First drink of the night, mate?" The guy asked, standing a few feet away. Clearly, he was *not* on his first drink of the night. "Yeah," Sarah replied, a bit shyly. "Why do you ask?" "Well, so long as you aren't drunk yet, we have a little wager goin' on some matches around back. Who can drink the most, fastest,that sorta thing. I'll put twenty quid on you, if you're interested," he said, grinning a toothey smile at her. "I... Well, I guess..." Do you: Refuse, enjoy your drink Try to drink the most Try to drink the fastest

Sarah couldn't believe her friends had roped her into this. I mean, sure, it was going to be great, and she was legally old enough to drink now, so that was no problem. But a frat party? Weren't those supposed to be alcoholic rapefests or something, according to TV? Nay, shed be fine. Besides, there were supposed to be a bunch of guys from the football team there, so she could probably flirt them up a bit. Walking in, the music was loud, and the party was moving along nicely. Someone had brought a keg and a big pack of red Solo cups, so the beer was taken care of. Over in the 'living room,' the dance party was getting started, with a mosh pit forming and some good music playing. It looked like there was good food out back, too, someone had brought a grill and was cooking up burgers, hot dogs, and other great looking stuff. Then of course there were the boys. Do you... A. Get something to drink from the keg B. Join the dance party C. Get some food out back D. Chat up some of the boys from the football team.

Just not at all, really. Thanks, by the way. It felt a little awkward asking that, but I've been wondering a while and figured this was a fairly safe place to ask, so... thanks.

I'm not exactly sure where to put this, but it seemed like the place... I'm trying to figure out what my 'sexuality' is, and I really and kind of clueless. I'm male, and attracted to both genders, but... I tend to find girls to be 'cute' or 'good looking' more often, physically speaking. However, when regressing, I identify more female and become more equally balanced. Also, while I think either gender can be 'attractive', I'm not turned on by men or women, with almost no desire to have sex with anyone... I think this categorizes as 'bi,' but I really don't know and am kind of lost...

Sounds good! Now, for chapter one details (last setup, good old fashioned writing after this I promise:) Is she: At a party In class In the dorms, just waking up At lunch

Sorry, Rachie, but someone beat you to the punch. Girl, 21 it is. Now, one more setup question, pick one from every category: Are in college Have a job, but no college degree in sight Are still living with your parents Have daytime wetting issues Occasionally wet the bed No issues Are straight Are bi Are lesbian In a relationship Single and looking Single, not looking

It's a dream. Let me say that again. IT'S A DREAM. It means precisely Dick. A dream is your brain firing random synapses in a pattern that is translates in the most sensible way possible. Unless you were lucid during this dream that's all it was. Even if you were, it still means nothing. Basically, all that is a jumble of things you saw, heard, and thought about recently being processed in random ways. So, one more time: It's a dream.

So, I'm a little loopy right now, but I'll keep up with this even when I'm rested, I swear! Basically, I will give two to four options, you pick one. I write that bit, give four more options, continue. First response gets the pick! So, my first question will be just a bit different, a basic question plus one variable that is completely random. who are you? A boy! A girl! And, how old are you? (16+)

Well, I got it and I read it... Sorry, but I don't think I'll be getting anything else from you. The art was decent, (about what I expected from the sample photos,) but the story didn't really go anywhere, there was only one (fairly short) messing scene, and all in all I felt like there wasn't too much good stuff in there. The plot wasn't fantastic, but I can live with that, except there was a ton of buildup (nearly a third of the comic before you get to diaper content, two thirds before the first wetting). I realize that it wasn't just about the diaper bits, but all in all I honestly felt that out of 60 or 70 pages, (the PDF said 70,) there was only a small fraction of satisfying ABDL settings. I don't want my money back, but nor do I expect to get any of your other work...

Okay then! I am totally buying this as soon as my paycheck comes in.

One more question, what does it download as? Pdf? (Oh, and can I change the file name?)

I'd definitely buy it, but what does it show up as on your credit card statement? I am paranoid and don't want 'Diaper Fetish Story' right there... Is there a way to purchase it back-alley anonymously?

Okay, slow down a bit. You don't have to be too graphic, but you skipped over two hours of public diapering and his first mess... Also, could you change the font in the future, the bold/italics made my eyes hurt. Other than those two gripes, though, I like it!

So, first an apology to everyone who participated in the story contest I did earlier, and anyone reading my story: I can't finish that. I bit off more than I can chew, and since I am now stuck on a phone most of the time I am on, it's hard to post very much at a time. Add to that something else I forgot to factor in; I have a hard time staying enthusiastic about stories for more than a week, (ADHD's a bitch) and it was a recipe for disaster. With that said, I now realize that I CAN write lots and lots of short stories. Posts maybe two or three chapters long (About 1000-5000 words, to be precise) with short and sweet diaper content. I will be doing these, since I still enjoy writing. This means that my old project (which not many people were reading anyways... sigh...) will be abandoned, and I am going to start on some new ones. Some story lines will be stolen, other will be suggestions, others will be things I thought of and decided were clever. If you have a short story (one that can be told without a major story arc or any subplots) feel free to PM me with it or just post it here, there is a chance I will write it if I think I can get it done before I am bored of the idea... So, expect more writing from me, in a much smaller format.

(Yes, it's been a while and yes, this is short. So sue me.) It took them a little while to get back, by which point everyone was already awake except for Isobel. Peter noticed them and asked, "Checking for troops?" To which Keller just shrugged. Glancing at Collete, Peter added, "So it looks like somebody had a little potty accident." Collete froze, and took in a sharp breath. "What?" she asked, surprised, prepared to act defensive if he teased her. "Isobel," Peter explained. "Does she wet the bed often? Or maybe it's stress related. What if it's her plague?" he said, with a laugh. "Can you imagine that, your plague being bed-wetting? That would be embarrassing..." Collete and Keller both laughed nervously, exchanging a glance, but everyone failed to notice. "So, what did you do?" Keller asked. "Nothing yet, I figure we can get her a new dress when she waked up or something," Peter said. "Good plan," Collete said. "She doesn't normally do this as far as I know, so..." She shrugged. "We need to get moving, either way," she said. "I agree," Keller added. Peter almost protested, but it was two on one this time and he knew he couldn't win that argument. "Fine," Peter finally said. "But if we get killed out there, don't say I didn't warn you." He started packing up some of the food, Collete picked up Isobel, and within a few minutes they were gone and out the door once again.

Just letting everyone know: Chapters are going to be slow and limited for a while.

(Now: The rest.) Collete grabbed the washcloth from the bucket and wiped down her inner thighs, legs, and anywhere that the mess had spread too. It felt so good to be clean, and she was filled with a bit of dread after it occurred to her that this would probably become a regular occurrence. "Do you think I should grab an extra dress or two?" she asked, as she grabbed a new pair of panties from a nearby rack, pulling them up over her legs. As she did so, a stream of urine started flowing from her again, staining the new panties and spilling onto the floor. She blushed and gave a small sob of sadness, it wasn't just going to be while she was asleep. "Probably," Keller said. Then, he spied something on the ground that looked like it would help. A stack of fluffy, laundered, un-used cloth diaper, lined up neatly in a row next to tight, new rubber panties. "Um, I am about to make a suggestion you might not like..." he said, un-sure. "But if this is going to be a regular thing then, well... Uh, you might want these." He held up one of the diapers, so she could see. "Absolutely not!" Collete said, a knee-jerk reaction if there ever was one. "Are you sure?" Keller asked. "I mean, no offense, but it is the only thing that really makes sense in your situation. Unless you want to carry around a dozen dresses and panties all the time..." He was a bit un-comfortable with the conversation topic. "Just an idea." "I changed my mind," Collete said, sharply. "Can you wait outside?" "Sorry!" Keller said, apologetically. He hadn't meant to offend her. "I will just, uh, be right outside the door..." He walked out, disappointed that he had upset her. .................... Ten minutes later, Collete walked out in a new dress, carrying a bag. There was a faint smell of perfume coming off of her that hadn't been there before, and she seemed a little flustered. "Let's go," she said, quickly. "Now, please. I don't want them to wonder where we are."

Collete obviously decided to go with looking for clothes. She wanted to get out of the messy ones she was wearing as quickly as possible, hopefully before anyone else woke up. "What if someone is up there?" she asked, as Keller grabbed his lantern to go up the rickety wooden steps. "Either they don't care or they will find us anyways," Keller said, doing a bad job of re-assuring her. "Don't worry about it, we will be fine." He took her hand, walking up the steps in hushed footfalls. "Do you think we will be able to find clothes?" she asked, anxiously, as they stepped out of the trapdoor and shut it, gently. "I saw an abandoned tailors down the street a hundred meters," he said, "They probably have something you can wear." He let go of her hand after a moment, walking with her quietly, sticking to the shadows where they could. It was a five minute walk, and they soon arrived at the abandoned store, where an illegible sign hung half demolished in front of the blown up doorway. Walking inside, Collete cringed at the mass squishing between her legs and against her thighs. The wetness wasn't so bad, it was the mess she wanted to clean up from as soon as possible. While she found a dress similar to her own, Keller found a bucket and a cloth behind the counter. Pouring the rest of the water from the canteen, he handed it to Collete. "I thought you might want to wash up before getting dressed," he said. "Do you want me to go out while...?" he asked, unsure of where he stood with her. "No, stay," she said. "Just in case something happens..." She was more nervous of someone attacking them than she was embarrassed to be seen without her dress. Keller averted his eyes as she removed her shoes, then pulled the stained dress off leaving her in socks, a corset, a bra, and of course the bulging, stained, ruined panties. With disgust, she pulled that off as well, tossing both aside into the corner of the room. Keller simply wandered in circles, staying within ten feet of Collete but not looking at her so as to not appear in-decent. (Pause, the rest later.)

Chapter 3. (Or, finally some DL content!) It was six hours later. Everyone was asleep, except Keller. He was staying up, to keep watch in case someone was going to attack them. He hadn't heard any noises since the bombs stopped, and didn't expect to hear any more for a while. Somehow, he imagined that they would wait for everyone else to succumb to the virus before they sent in any sort of invasion. It just didn't make sense to attack while there might be any resistance left. He was just thinking about taking a nap himself, when Collete started to cough in her sleep. It wasn't loud, more of a gentle child cough. It could almost even be mistaken for a snore, if he hadn't been listening so intently. As she did so, a little spittle was coughed up, getting on her chin and nose. "Shit..." He said, hurrying over to Collete's side. "Collete!" He grabbed her body, trying to shake her awake, but she stayed asleep. He was worried she would choke, or die of something else. "Collete..." he said, again. He checked her pulse; she was still alive. In fact, as much as he checked her vital signs, she seemed okay except the persistent cough. Just as he started looking for a glass of water or some way to wake her up, since shouting at her wasn't working, he saw something that he didn't expect. As he was standing up, he saw Collete's dress start to darken around her crotch, staining the white fabric a light yellow. As that happened, she rolled over into a fetal position, and she started coughing a little more loudly. Not much, but a little. "Dammit..." Keller said. He looked around, still unable to find anything. Finally, he saw a canteen sitting next to a water boiler and grabbed it. "Wake up!" he shouted. But, she didn't. Isobel started to stir, but quickly dozed off again. As he grabbed the canteen, he recoiled away from Collete. A stench was floating away from her now too, and not of urine. He recoiled as he realized what she had done, covering his nose from the smell of the mess now lodged in her panties. He got the water canteen and splashed it on her face. "Aaah!" Collete screamed, sitting up and knocking the bottle out of Keller's hand with a start. "What the hell..." she said, standing up. Her cough was gone now, and she seemed all right. "Are you okay?" Keller asked, concerned for her safety. "I thin... What the?" She said, smelling the odor, looking down, and seeing the stain on her dress. She blushed, as she realized that she had not only wet the proverbial bed, but soiled it as well. "Is anyone else awake?" she asked, hoping nobody else had seen this just yet. "Not at the moment," Keller said, relieved. She was okay. He relaxed, grinned. "Hey, no big deal," he said, almost starting to laugh. "If that's the best the plague can throw at you, I say you got off easy." He smiled, even as Collete blushed nervously and gave a choking laugh. "Um..." Collete said, standing up. "Now what?" "We need to get you clean, for one," Keller said, smirking a bit in spite of himself. Sure, it was a bit humiliating for Collete, but she was alive. And she wouldn't be dying from the plague in the foreseeable future, either. "There aren't any clothes down here, so either you strip nude or we go looking for some." He shrugged. "Your choice."

Freelance videography. Job kicks ass. Good pay, hours are... Well, hours depend on the shoot. So does pay. But I enjoy it, and it gets the bills payed.

Granted. But, unfortunately, doing this makes Bonsai permanently think he is in a state of calm and no threat, since that is the only way to turn it off. Needless to say, he is finally assassinated. I wish I was a Mexican Superhero, dressing in banana yellow, lime green, and cherry red, named Zorro, the gay blade, and to have flamboyant humor.

I am done for now, but once I finish this story I am doing this again! So eyes peeled.

2 weeks later. They were running. Five of them, all running. Peter, Collete, Isobel, Keller, and Sarah. Searching for shelter from the bombs raining down, somewhere that could give them shelter. However, the bombs weren't the worst problem. The worst problem was the plague. Ever since the day with the girl in the river and the boom-boom at the clocktower, nothing had been the same. People were dying left and right, being driven mad, falling to pieces. The plague affected everyone differently. Some simply dropped dead, as if shot. Others were paralyzed, or went mad. Some people were affected minutes or days after the clocktower, others had yet to show any symptoms, but everyone knew that one day soon it would be their turn to suffer, and they prayed it would be something they could live with. They took shelter in a clockmakers shop as another bomb crashed down, a large dirigible flying above. Everyone knew that the plague was an attack, but nobody knew from whom. News from across the pond said that everyone else was under the same attack, and the attacking ships had no recognizable markings on them. "In here!" Peter said, directing the four others into the basement, which looked to be reinforced and proofed for bombs. "Hurry!" And it was good that he made them move with such speed, for just after he sealed the trap door a bomb crashed down just above them. Isobel, only seven, shuddered a bit and started to cry. Collete, a mere 11 years older and not ready to be this girls mother by any means began comforting her anyways, while Keller argued with Peter. "We have to keep moving!" Keller said, firmly. "If we try and stay put the plague will just kill us all one by one." "It's not always lethal," Peter said. "And if we keep moving that will still happen!" Keller shook his head. "What happens when they start sending land troops down and scourge the earth? We will be in the middle of their attack route, they will just come down and kill us!" "If we try and move, they will kill us with their bombs!" Peter yelled. As they said this, Sarah began shuddering on the ground, but nobody took notice. Peter and Keller were too busy arguing to take note, Isobel was crying with her eyes shut, and Collete was busy comforting her. "I don't care about the bombs!" Keller screamed. He finally paused, when he realized the bombs had stopped. "Now is our chance. If we get moving, we can..." "They are trying to draw us out, nitwit," Peter responded, an ear cocked for sounds of motion. That is when he finally noticed Sarah, convulsing quietly. He ran to her side, kneeling down. "Sarah!" he yelled, trying to get her attention, but her eyes had glazed over. It wasn't for another thirty seconds that she stopped shuddering and lied still, her body turning cold. Collete buried Isobel's head in her shoulder, so that the young girl wouldn't see anything. Peter took advantage of the silence to speak. "Look," he said. "The plague isn't always fatal. If we wait down here, it looks like there is enough food to last the four of us at least a week. We can try and wait out the rest of the attack, hopefully reinforcements will arrive soon and rescue us. Until then, we stay put." "And what about Sarah?" Keller asked, quietly. "What do we do about her?" "We move the body," Peter said. "Up, out of the shelter. And we pray that it doesn't happen to us." And with that, the argument was over.