Someteenbaby

I should back up a bit. My name is James. I'm 18, a senior in high school, and I like to wear diapers and act like a baby in my spare time. Well, mostly. After discovering the community, I began to roleplay on forums and places like Omegle. It was here that I discovered a power, my first power. I was truly a switch. I had always considered myself as submissive, and this discovery surprised me. I could play any role and be happy. I just wanted to tell a story more than anything. And it led to my dark side. If I were a submissive, it would certainly have been hard for me to be evil. A baby is about as evil as a pile of kittens. And that's not even the best simile that I can come up with! Either way, I had a dark side. A side that I was not fulfilling with my newfound power. A dominant side. And that day, starting with that prank, it started to grow. A few days after the prank, I was started to be suspected. As the one kid with powers, it was inevitable. But I once again explained my powers away as teleportation. Nobody could prove me wrong, and even if they could I hadn't done any harm. A while after, I worried that perhaps I had left fingerprints on the diapers, but that never came back to haunt me. What did, however, was one of the victims. In all of the chaos that day, I did notice one person in particular. This one girl, sitting in the back of the class reading, wasn't fazed by her new garment. She took it in stride. And all of a sudden, that weird nerdy bibliophile in the back of the class became a lot more attractive. Was she ABDL? How could I find out? I had no name to put to her perfect, perfect, face. She was a bit chubby, but by no means fat, with short brown hair and glasses. I could stare into her eyes for an eternity. My brown-eyes girl. She was short, maybe 4'9" tall. And she was perfect in my eyes. And I started having fantasies, where I would baby this nameless girl, this girl I had never paid any attention to. In my mind, I would ask her, and she'd come out as ABDL, and then we'd make out. Apparently, my hormones were still fucking with my mind. So, the dumb teenager that I am, I start to think about actually going for it and asking her. There was no way that this was going to go well, in retrospect. 20-20 hindsight, I suppose. So I froze time one day, in the middle of class, and looked at her. Just looked. I wished that she could join me here, in my time. My frozen picture of one single instant of the universe, where I was alone. My secret garden. And I wished that it wasn't a secret to everybody. Just like that, she blinked, still looking at her book, and flipped the page. I was startled by the movement in my garden of stillness. It was like a blind man suddenly seeing something. It was jarring at best, so I did what any reasonable teenager would do. "Oh shit!" I shouted. Smooth. Real smooth. Girl of your dreams sitting right here, and first thing out of your mouth? Cuss words. Well done. She looked up surprised as the teacher was no longer talking, and that guy with the teleportation had just straight up shouted the S-word. But then she started to look around, to see the frozen faces mid-whisper, the notes mid-pass. "Ah, so it was you. I figured as much." "What was me?" I asked, playing innocent. "What are you talking about?" "You! With the diapers! Hell of a senior prank, if you ask me." She seemed genuinely happy. Good. Keep the mood light. "Ohhh, that. Yeah, that might've been me," I said, trying to play it cool. "Don't tell anyone. I could get expelled." I knew she was smart, but not that smart. She put that puzzle together in seconds. I was a bit worried. "Why would I tell anyone? You pulled a prank on an entire class, and as far as I'm concerned, you've got balls." "Because you're in this class? I humiliated you?" I was looking for reasons to have her hate me. She was taking this unreasonably well. "My ego will heal." And just like that, I froze her again. I couldn't do it. I couldn't talk to her. I would have to reveal myself as an AB, and it's unlikely that she would be happy with that. Fetishes are a private matter, after all. I took my mind off of her to figure out something a bit more pressing to me: were my powers evolving?

"What the fuck am I doing?" I asked myself, slipping into a diaper. I asked out loud, but no one responded. No one ever responded. If they did I was doing something wrong. I looked around the room, room C-12 at school, and then down to the packet of diapers. Was I really going to do this, to screw with an entire classroom? Just for the fun of it? I could be a superhero with these powers, and yet here I am, playing some supervillain-esque prank. And for what, you ask? My own personal pleasure. Ever since I had been young, I had this fetish. This fucking fetish, which would forever haunt me, out of my grasp. That is, until I discovered my powers. People with powers were just starting to emerge from hiding. There had been urban legends of men who could lift cars, or disappear completely. Not many believed them until a man named Stanley took the presidency. He promised to tell the truth about these "supers", so we voted him in. We wanted to know who to thank for saving us, or who to hate for destroying our lives. And he told us. Some people just had a potential, and he had the power to unlock it. A bit anti-climactic, and it could be interpreted as a flat out lie. He could just claim that anyone brought up for a demonstration did not have this potential. There were riots in Washington DC, as people were continually turned away for a demonstration. We told congress to impeach him, he had given promises that would never be fulfilled, because SUPERS DID NOT EXIST! Congress gave him one year to find one person who had the quality. Just one, and until then his Vice President would act in his place. He was sent out into the nation, faced with hatred and the possibility of losing his office. We began to doubt that people could have powers at all. And then he came to my school. He had been coming to a lot of schools, at parents requests. He was getting desperate, and we could tell. There was no way that he was going to find anyone. And then he'd be out of office, his exploits a dark part in the history of America. Like what happened with Nixon. That day that he came to our school, I was singled out of the audience, of the 2000 students attending the assembly. And he unlocked my powers. They all assumed that it was some form of teleportation. To onlookers, I disappeared from one spot, and appeared in another at that exact instant. To me, though, it was something else. There was time in between there. My own, personal, time. As soon as the power was enabled, it was used, and everybody in the room froze. I looked around, and walked to the edge of the stage. I started to comprehend what had happened, and I focused on unfreezing time. And just like that, I was back into the shouting and the cheering. Stanley left eventually, and I was left alone by the government. As far as I could tell, at least. So I started to experiment. What sort of boundaries did my powers have? After extensive testing, I narrowed down the list to 3 rules: 1. I could move any inanimate object simply by touching it with bare skin. Shoes were irritating for a while, so I started to wear socks with holes in them. Simple enough. 2. I could lift living things easily. They wouldn't join me in my personal time, but I could move them, at least. 3. I did not age while time was frozen. It took almost a year to figure out, but after spending around a month in this time over a year, I had not grown more than was expected of a pubescent guy. And that leads me to my fetish. For a long time, I had discovered that diapers would... give me pleasure. I had surfed the Internet, and it told me that I wasn't alone. There was an entire community surrounding this fetish, and I wasn't a freak. But as a minor, there was no way I was gonna get diapers. Not in a million years. This lower came along, and in did a few things that I was ashamed of. I stole packs of diapers, not leaving a trace. The kind that teens with bedwetting problems would wear. And I used them, and felt like a baby, and I was happy with this part of my life. And I discovered that I could start ordering diapers online. I would use my own debit card, and when the diapers and bills came, I could easily pop out to get them, to anyone observing they would just disappear. But I had to go further. It was nothing to just have me diapered, why not let others join me? I would humiliate an entire class. As I finished up diapering the final guy in the class in my personal favorite brand, Bambinos, I sat back in my seat. This would be good. Time unstuck, and hell broke loose. Everyone's pants had "disappeared, and we were all suddenly wearing a garment more suited for someone in preschool. As expected, chaos ensued. I embraced it.

Brianna stared in shock at the man before her. In the few seconds it took her to calm down, she had gotten a VERY good look at this adult child. He was probably 6 1/2 feet tall, if Brianna was any good at estimating, and actually quite toned, looking as though he worked out often. His short, jet black hair was slicked back into almost a typical greaser hairdo, but definitely not on purpose. It had been slicked back in a hurry, without much effort put into it. Even though she noted all of this, her eyes kept gravitating back to the diaper he wore. It was large, it was pink, and it sure as hell was not meant for an adult male. And honestly, she wasnt sure it was meant for an adult female either. What kind of woman would put on such a thing? Sure, she had seen adult diapers meant for those with the unfortunate affliction of incontinance, but those were meant for stealth! This one was far too... Infantile. Even if someone was wearing pants over it, the point would be made that they WERE wearing a diaper. It was like announcing to the world that you are a giant baby. Ed realized his mistake far too late. Only when the girl had stared at his crotch did he realize that he had forgotten pants. He had been doing this lately, and it needed to stop. He would zone out of reality and into fantasy. When he came back, he would forget something important, but would never remember it again. He would forget to brush his teeth, or comb his hair. Or to remove a diaper, and replace it with pants. "Oh... Shit." Ed turned away from Brianna, sighing. "I've fucked it up, haven't I? My one chance to get a few more girls, and I fuck it up." Brianna looked upon this man, teetering at a desicion point in her life. If she turned this job down purely because the manager was a bit... Eccentric? Yeah, that's a good word for it. If she turned it down, she would kick herself the second she had to serve another fucking gigantic burger when she couldn't feed herself. Brianna shook his hand, and let herself in. "Thank you for agreeing to meet with me. So... Shall we sit?" she asked, gesturing to a small table in the center of the living room that was just off of the entrance hall. "Wait... You're not freaked out? But I'm wearing a diaper! Most people would see this and just leave!" "Look, I really need this job. I'm desperate, and I'm worried that on my current pay at this fast food place... That I won't be able to take care of myself," Brianna explained. "So I'm not going to turn you down because you have a medical condition." "A medical condition? No, I'm not going to lie, I'm in diapers by choice. You see... I have a fetish. One that many people actually share! I am what is known as an adult baby/diaper lover, or abdl for short." Ed looked at the girl, and realized he had lost her again. She was just staring, mouth wide open. This was going to be harder than he thought. Ed tried again. "Ok, the fetish stems from the fact that, at least in my case, I want to be safe, secure, and pampered. It's honestly a fantasy for many people, although they may not extend it to the idea of having ALL of your needs taken care of. It's just a subculture of the idea of being in a position where you don't have any responsibilities." "So... You want to be taken care of. That's it? But it's a fetish, doesn't that imply there is a sexual side?" Brianna asked, somewhat confused. She was curious, but at the same time she wanted to run away from this weirdo. "Well, yes. The sexual side mainly comes into play with a dominant and submissive relationship. You see, the diaper can also be seen as an object symbolizing the shift of power. If you think of something powerless, one of the first things you think of is a baby, without even the power to control their bowels. The fact that this can be 'taken away' to a degree creates that shift of power that is also seen in fetishes like bondage and bdsm." "Ok, I kinda understand your fetish now. So what about the job? You said it's to be a dancing girl?" "Hold on, I'm getting to that. First off, you have to understand the workplace. So, a few years back, I fell into about of money. I hit the powerball jackpot. So, of course, I started to try to live out my fantasy. I bought diapers, some bondage equipment, and even a "mommy" to take care of me full time. This woman was named Bennett, and for about a year she took care of me. But soon, I began to grow bored, as well as I began to feel the jealousy of other abdls. Being extremely happy, I bragged all over the Internet of my new fantastic lifestyle." "So people were jealous, and you began to feel hated because you were an egomaniac." "Exactly. So, with what money I had left, I opened up a small club known as the baby's playland. All of the dancers were diapered, and it became fairly popular. So popular, in fact, that we bought the club next door and began to use it as a nursery for our customers. The club began to make money, and I mean a lot of money. I ended up making more money than I won in just another year." "And you want me to work there? You want me to go out, put on a diaper, and pole dance and give lap dances? Are you insane? What kind of woman would do that?" "Well, yes and no. You see, in our nurseries we cater to two distict groups. The babies, and the caretakers. You see, every once in a while a guy or girl will walk in wanting to take care of a baby. After all, not all abdls like to wear diapers. Some like the dominant side of it." "So you want me to be a baby just in general. Once again, WHAT KIND OF WOMAN WOULD DO THAT?" "A desperate one. You see, the pay is fifty dollars an hour, and the schedule is ultimately decided by when you're available. Some girls just stay in the club 24 hours a day, and make 1200 dollars a day. And all of this is just from sitting around and being catered to. Not to mention the fact you can come and go as you please." Brianna did a quick equation in her head, and realized that the 24 hour route totaled 438000 dollars a year. That was more than a teacher's salary and all for sitting around and pissing your pants. All of a sudden the idea of being a fully grown baby seemed a lot more profitable. In fact, one year could put her through college! "Where so I sign?" "Well, the paperwork is in my office. Please excuse me for a moment." The man wandered out of the room in no real hurry. As she looked at where he had sat, Brianna realized she didn't even know this guys name! Jesus, she didn't think he knew hers either. She had never said it, not even on the phone. And yet... She now knew this guy's entire life story. His hopes, his dreams, his... The phone rang, snapping Brianna out of her internal monologue. She looked at it for a second, and picked it up. "Hello, Edward. We understand that you have been looking for a few more girls. Well, we've discovered some. Now, be very careful, their psyches may be a bit messed up and if you aren't careful they could snap and fully settle into being a baby. So be careful NOT to let them do that! It would mean you couldn't pay them, and that there would be a legitimate 'role play' for the caretakers, but we wouldn't want that." Brianna, being unprepared for the sound now buffeting her ears, passed out at around "girls". And the second the first tones hit her, her bladder and bowels released. She curled up in a fetal position, losing track of her thoughts in the cloud of noise. This was how Ed found her.

Brianna spent the rest of the day preparing for the interview. A stripper definitely wasn't the most glamorous job, but it probably payed much better than the shit-hole she had been working at for three months. She was ready to kiss Mickey-D's goodbye, even if she would have to kiss a few more things. Besides, based on the size and thus, expense that had been spared for just the advertisement, it may be quite a posh place. Keep on the bright side of life. Plus, the promises of free food AND shelter? Well, that just about convinced her. But first, she'd meet the owner or manager she had spoke with. See what type she was dealing with. If it was some sleazeball, she was out. As promised, a text was sent with an address. A quick check on the library's complimentary computers showed that it was in a small, suburban neighborhood. Brianna was surprised that it wasn't some downtown apartment on the sketchy side of town, but nevertheless, she printed off the map and left the library. As she arrived home, she looked at the grey building. See, this was the kind of place she expected to find a strip club owner. she sighed, entered the building, and after another soul-searching session in front of the mirror, she drifted off to sleep. Tonight she dreams of what the best and the worst could be. Best case scenario: a posh club straight out of the nineteenth century, where showing a bit of ankle is about the boundaries of morality. Worst case: an all naked all the time club. Worser case: a hooters knock-off that required her do to her old job, just in less of a uniform and with more dick-sucking involved. Brianna woke with a start from this dream turned nightmare. She sat up, stared at the ceiling for a bit, then fell back asleep. She would forget this dream by the next morning, as was the case with most of her nightmares. But somewhere, in her subconscious, the seed of doubt had been planted. When Brianna awoke, she felt uneasy. She called in sick once again, and as her manager yelled at her she slammed the old flip-phone shut. She wandered into the bathroom, brushed her teeth, made herself as presentable as she could, and rode the bus down to the small neighborhood, or as close as she could. As she walked the streets, every once in a while checking her map, she began to doubt that this job would be ideal. In fact, it would probably really stink. But anything was better than telling some lard-ass for the fourth time that we can't put bacon on a salad, because all of the meals are pre-made. Ed heard a knock on the door, and stood, smoothing his tie down. He had to make a good impression, and emphasize the good points. If he could just do this, he would have another girl signed on. Simple, right? Ed walked to the door, opening it. He had to make a good first impression. "Hello, and welcome to my home. Please, come in, sit down. Make yourself at home." The girl just stared at him. Perhaps he had done something wrong? He was no good at social interaction, he just fucked up everything. Now, he had no shortage of women, but he had a shortage of girls. This was his chance to maybe fix that balance! But what had he done? Brianna looked at the man, who could be described as the personification of "manly". From his broad shoulders to his barrel-chestedness to his huge feet, one object just put her off a bit. It was something about the large pink diaper. (Whoops, accidentally ninja'd you, Kaidus. I just felt like uploading the next chapter right away)

Brianna looked in the mirror in her tiny apartment on the south side of Denver as she called the number that the advertisement had provided. As the phone rang, she studied herself, debating whether a club would even be interested in her. Her long dark hair, she decided, would be a plus. B-36 cup size? Probably not the biggest in the world, but serviceable. She had been complemented on her ass in high school, but she was unsure of if that meant anything, or it was just a failed pick-up line for those who were desperate. "Oh god, what am I doing?" Brianna asked, to the world at large. She looked herself straight in her eyes, noting the kinda hazel-ish color. She still considered them brown, seeing as the hints of green weren't prominent at all. Brianna stared at herself, thinking. "Am I really going to sell my body?" Just then, on the other end a male's voice no older than 30 picked up. "Is this about the job?" Brianna was surprised by the eagerness of the speaker. It had been less than a second before he had spoke up. This suggested that he was getting calls that weren't about the job, and wanted to screen them in a way. "Actually, yes." "Ah, excellent. Can you begin tomorrow?" "Wait... W-What?" Brianna paused. "I don't even know the specifics of the job! The ad didn't say!" "The ad? What ad are you talking about? I hired you directly to... Wait, are you calling about the ad for some extra dancing girls?" "Well, yes. So, you say in the ad that there is free board, free food, and all of your needs taken care of?" Brianna asked. "I should think that new girls are all over you. So why haven't you turned me down yet?" "Well, you see, this club isn't just some strip club. It's a strip club build for those of some very... unique tastes, you could say. So we have trouble finding girls desperate or open minded enough to be ok with what the job requires. Look, come down to my home, and I'll give you the details. For now, though, leave me alone. I'm expecting a very important investor to call soon. I'll text you the address, I have your number on file, Miss..." "Brianna. And we'll see if this is worth it." "Yes, yes. Now, goodbye!" And just like that, Ed hung up. he settled back down into his armchair, setting the phone back on the small end table next to him. He picked back up the book he had been reading (Small Gods, by Terry Pratchett), and picked up where he had left off. Hours later, he snapped the book closed as the phone rang. He looked at it, confused, for the sponsor had said they would be calling at 11:00 sharp. He glanced at the clock, across the room, which read 10:57. There was a quick moment of panic, as there always was when they called. But he suppressed it, steadied his nerves, and picked up. "Hello, Edward. We have perfected the formula, right on time as always." The voice that this sentence belonged to was not merely one voice. It was a cacophony of voices, male and female, causing dissonance that would irritate even the calmest of musicians. Ed, not fazed by the array of pitches that were assaulting his ears, said, "I would assume that you have already sent it to me? Or at least to the club?" "We have sent the formula. The ingredients should not be too hard to acquire for a man of your means. Now, our payment..." "Already in the mail. I look forward to doing business with you again." "We will always be around, so long as you have need for us." And with that, Ed found himself on a phone call with no one else on the other end. He hung the phone up, and returned it to its resting place. He reached down to his crotch, feeling the thick plastic diaper around it. Unsurprisingly, it was wet and full of crap. Ed sighed, standing up from his chair, and waddled down the hall to his room. (Author's note: Thanks for all of the feedback so far! I'm trying to fix any problems and improve as a writer, so if you see anything, feel free to let me know. Also, if you have any thoughts on the story in general, I'd love to hear them!) Edit: fixed the first chapter so it's a bit easier to read.

Author's note: This is my first diaper story, I would be very appreciative of any feedback you could give me. Thanks for your time!

​ Brianna woke up, sweating profusely. She sat up on her bed, hunched over, her head in her hands. Brianna took a few moments to calm down from the nightmare. She was not in any danger, nor was she trapped in any way. She was not in a nightmarish landscape created by her own mind. What she was was an 18 year old girl, just after graduation. Not enough money to afford a college education, she had to take jobs where she could. ​ In her job hunt, she had found the truth of the matter: the economy was shit, and jobs were few. What she had been warned of for years was true, without a college degree she had nothing. But how could she get one? Her parents had been born poor, lived with being poor, and were most likely going to die poor. There was no inheritance, no college fund. Everything earned went into survival: food, water, and shelter. But they had survived, if only barely scraping enough money together to go out to eat at a fast food restaurant once a month. ​ But lately, she was beginning to doubt that on her own she would be able to even do that. Now the only job she could find was at a fast food restaurant. And to think she had so looked forward to going once a month, to pick up a burger with fries and a drink. Now even that precious childhood memory was tarnished by the stinging irony that life enjoyed throwing at her. But she survived, slowly gathering up money. And yet, the insurmountable debt that a college education would bring intimidated her. ​ On this night, she had dreamed of how she would die. Lonely and starving out on the street, in her home city of Denver, Colorado. She would look into the tacky restaurants that lined the streets, seeing people eating, laughing, living. And she would beg them to spare money, to spare enough for one meal. And they would walk by. And she would finally give up. Lie in some back alley, and feel the life force drain from her. And she would die. ​ By no accounts was Brianna a stupid woman, she knew that she was merely being dramatic. She would never give up so easily. But it scared her, the thought that she even let it pop into her dreams, that her subconscious truly believed that she would fail at the greatest test: living. But for now, she fell asleep once again, to have this memory of nighttime worries wiped away before she woke in the morning. ​ Brianna awoke to the shrieking of an alarm clock, cursing. She knew what another day meant: working 9 to 5 to feed some fat slobs who ate there nearly every day. They would walk in, and order a large hamburger and large fries. Then insist that they got a "diet" drink, for the sake of healthiness. Then they would lumber away with their food, without even leaving a tip. But it was a living, kind of. But Brianna loathed it, as any sane person would. ​ On this particular day, Brianna took the Light Rail (train, to those of you who have no idea what I'm talking about) to downtown Denver. As the train passed by station after station, she paused to look at a issue of "Westword" that had been left on a seat nearby. She discovered that there was a large amount of ads toward the back, many looking for workers. She noted the diversity of the ads, from strip clubs to raves to white collar jobs. ​ One ad in particular caught her eye. It was a full page, color ad, which struck her as odd, especially because this ad appeared to be for a strip club. It wasnt often a strip club would have enough money to rent out a full page in a popular magazine/newspaper, let alone in color. As well as it wasn't often that a club would want to draw such attention to itself. ​ But the ad did what it was supposed to, and it interested Brianna. She called in sick for work, and got off the train at the next stop. She did leave the Westword, but she had taken a picture of that page with her phone, then left it lying on the seat next to her. It was left open to that page. ​ The page simply said "Strip club searching for very open minded girls. Perks include: catering to all needs, free room and board, free food. Forever, or until we shut down." ​ And Brianna fell for this, as many young women would in the weeks following as the ad ran.