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Busy Britches

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    Adult Baby
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    LB (Little Boy)
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    6 to 9 months

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    Minnesota
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    59

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  1. Thank you for all of your responses. I believe Rusty Pins has a good read on human nature, and he is correct: protect your privacy and think long and hard before telling anyone. Yes, it was blackmail, and it was illegal. But seriously, could you, even wanting your "day in court" tell the court, which is a PUBLIC RECORD exactly what you do in your pants when you are in diapers? Remember, if you ever go into court, and you are questioned or you testify about ABDL related activities, remember that NO ONE is your friend, no one else is into the "lifestyle." 99.9% of everyone who works for a court system, is hostile to anything except "normal" and how they define "normal." The court system, its very nature, is "socially conservative." The judge and jury may be card-carrying Democrats, but they are not OK with adults who wear diapers and dirty their pants deliberately for pleasure.
  2. I am just curious, have any of you ever been "doxed?" That is, your private life as an ABDL exposed to the world against your will? I have, and I thought I would share my unfortunate experience with "doxing." In 2016 I was living in Phoenix and had a good job that I loved and my co-workers and boss were like my family, but it was still a professional, working relationship. At the time I was having issues with my landlord, who was a wretched, morbidly obese, hateful woman who had 3 disgusting, filthy, constantly barking dogs that frequently kept me awake and filled our common yard with an ocean of dog shit that she was too lazy to clean up. When I finally had enough of her nonsense and her filthy dogs, I gave her a written 30 day notice to vacate. She had a $200 cleaning deposit I had given her, but I didn't care about the money: I wanted to be done with her and her filthy fucking dogs. So I moved out within 30 days, intending for her to keep my deposit. But she had other plans. After my stuff was all moved out, she called me and demanded that I clean my apt from top to bottom, "or else." Her voicemail was clear about the "or else" part. Her voicemail said, quote, "If you don't come back and clean this apt. I am going to tell your boss and your company what a fucking degenerate pervert freak you are. I'm going to send them pictures of you in diapers pooping your pants. You are going to lose your fucking job, you fucking freak. Do you understand me?" I thought she was bluffing, but I was wrong. Unknown to me at the time, was the fact that when I had been at work, she used her pass-key to sneak into my apt. and she took pictures of my diapers, rubber pants, and baby things and she made copies of my flash drives that I had sitting on my desk, that had pics of me in diapers pooping my pants, as well as ABDL stories I had wrote. I had no idea that she had came into my apt and took pictures and made copies of my flash drive. But I was about to find out. When I came to work on Monday, our bookkeeper Tammy had a really bad look on her face. She took me aside and told me this woman had emailed my boss and coworkers with all my ABDL info and pics that she stole out of my apt. (She got their email addresses off of our company website.) I will never forget the look on Tammy's face when she said to me, "This woman says that you wear diapers and you poop your pants like a baby? She say's that you enjoy it. Is that true?" I was devastated. From that point on, no one at work ever looked at me the same way again. I had lost all of their respect. I was no longer "normal" in their eyes. I was no longer "one of the guys." I was now a "pervert" who liked to wear diapers and poop his pants like a baby. Shortly after that, I left the company, and I lost one of the best jobs I ever had. Yes, I could have sued that woman and got the legal system involved. But think about it. Would you really want all of your private ABDL pics and stories coming out in a civil proceeding? I could imagine her lawyers getting me up on the witness stand and asking me in front of the whole court, "Is it true you enjoy pooping your pants like a baby? Please tell the court why you enjoy this?" (In a civil trial, anything goes, if you sue, or someone sues you, everything is permissible as "evidence" and "testimony.") So, that is what happens when you get "doxed" to your employer, by your vengeful landlord. I did learn quite a bit though. 1. If your landlord has a passkey to your apt./house, then lock everything ABDL related and flash-drives, and external hard drives, in a footlocker, closet, etc., somewhere they don't have a passkey, or access to. 2. If you count on someone's "humanity" or "respect" for your privacy: don't. Many people out there despise us and are revolted at the thought that we diaper ourselves and mess our pants like babies. They will not even blink at destroying our lives, our privacy, and our livelihoods. We are "degenerate perverts" to them, and they look at doxing us, like stepping on cockroaches. She had told my boss in her email to him that she was doxing me as a, "public service" so that my company won't hire any more "perverts" and "degenerates." My advice? PROTECT YOUR PRIVACY DO NOT TRUST LANDLORDS THEY WILL DOX YOU
  3. I once asked a research psychiatrist at the University of Minnesota back in 2011 this very question. His answer was no, it has never happened.
  4. Hands down, that would be curvy, voluptuous Joan Holloway of the TV series Mad Men. ? Yep, I agree. I love her and the show.
  5. The 1960s TV show "Bewitched" had a lot of baby and baby diaper references in it. One episode was called, "Dangerous Diaper Dan" who was their diaper service delivery man. The witch and her family, like many families in the 1960s used a diaper service to wash their dirty diapers. I remember the show was talking about diapers. As a little boy in the 1960s who wanted to be a baby again, this was one of my favorite TV shows. ?
  6. I first learned of DPF, and the fact that I was not alone in the fall of 1992. I was watching an episode of Phil Donahue when Tommy and other ABDLs were on the show being interviewed. I was in shock. I had no idea that there were others like me. I wrote the show for contact info and then I joined DPF after getting a letter from Tommy. Then, every other month I looked forward to getting the new "DPF Roster" with names, addresses, and phone numbers of ABDLs from around the world. When DPF started going down, a huge hole was created that has never been filled by any website. Part of this is the nature of the internet itself. Ironically, in the "internet age" ABDL s are much more afraid of being open than they were in the early 1990s when DPF was publishing their addresses and phone numbers. Back then, you HAD to be a member of DPF to get the phone numbers and addresses of other ABDLs. Today, anyone can visit and access a ABDL website. Back then, when DPF was around, we were a "closed club" and had no fear of Trolls and psychos who hate us and hunt us on the internet in order to "dox" us to our employers and families. Ironically, DPF was much more private. Tommy and DPF are sorely missed. RIP Tommy.
  7. I enjoyed the story, its good writing. The "public" messing of the diapers aspect of the story really intrigued me. In my fantasies, where I am a real baby age 6 to 9 months, I often mess my diapers in front of mommy and her friends. The fact that so many ABs including myself, enjoy this fantasy (messing in front of mommy and her friends) makes me wonder about hidden memories from long ago where we were real babies in diapers. When I read stories like this, I wonder if somewhere in our brains we are "remembering" things past. For example, when I was a little boy in the 1960s, I vividly remember my mom and her friends watching babies mess their diapers in the living room, and laughing and giggling and smiling at the baby as he or she pooped their pants. I remember thinking, "Did my mom do the same thing when I was a baby in diapers?" I have to assume the answer is yes, because I was around 9 or 10 when I watched these scenes at my house, and that was only 5 or 6 years since I was in diapers pooping my pants. (My mom kept me in diapers until I was 5) So I have to assume that my mom and her friends did in fact, laugh and giggle and talk about my poopy diapers as I was doing my business in my pants. So, are the "public" diaper-messing scenes I read about in so many ABDL stories long suppressed memories from so long ago? Or just dreams, wishes, and fantasies? I don't believe there will ever be a definitive answer, but it is interesting to speculate on. ?
  8. You are so correct Rosalie, I agree 100%. In all of my stories, there is NO SEX, no mention of genitalia, no molestation, or masturbation. No vulgarity, or profanity, and yet, I have been kicked off of ABDL sites when I post fantasy stories about myself when I was 6 to 9 months old. (The age I see myself as a baby.) I have protested and pointed out that my stories are G-Rated, and are loving stories about mommies changing my poopy diapers: which is not "obscene" or sexual because I have seen many a mom, lay a baby down on a table in public, and wipe their poopy bottoms. This is normal, natural, and a part of everyday life. But not so with some ABDL sites which says, "No depiction of anyone under 18." It is a moronic rule, especially in light of the fact that ALL of my stories are G-Rated. Thanks for your input Rosalie.
  9. Few people have the exact same life experiences; mine are somewhat unique. I experienced emotional and physical abuse both before and after potty training, and several years after that. One form of abuse turned me into a baby that craves to be in diapers and mess my pants for mommy. The other abuse, turned me into a violent sociopath, who has no conscience, empathy or guilt about anything. Thankfully, I have been able to somewhat control those violent impulses, which has kept me alive and out of prison. But they are always there, like background noise or a song in your head that won't go away. I was born to a mother who hated me from day one. (She told me that many times.) I had no father to speak of. I was first abused emotionally when I began walking at the age of 13 months. My mom bought me a potty chair and told me to be a "big boy" or else. Of course, being a 13 month-old with no bowel control, I just kept pooping my training pants. My mom hated me and my poopy diapers. She gave up, and tried to potty train me again, this time at the age of 2. I still kept pooping my pants. So in a fit of anger (I remember this well, and my mom has confirmed many details about the experience) she put me back in diapers and rubber pants, and kept me in diapers until I was 5. And I remember being a 5 year old in diapers, at daycare, in the "2 year-old room" and my mom telling everyone, "He's still in diapers because he poops his pants like a baby." At the age of 5, I was finally "potty trained" because my mom married a demon in human flesh, and he just beat the hell out of me until I stopped pooping my pants. And he abused me for the rest of my life under "his roof" even torturing me. I didn't realized I had been tortured until I watched a war film many years later and I saw an interrogation/torture scene of a POW, and I realized that 's what my step-father had did to me. They kept this guy/POW awake (sleep deprivation) for days, slapping him and threatening him every time he dozed off. My step-father had done the same thing to me for years. He called it, "instructing me." But by far, the worst abuse I suffered, and what I believe permanently altered my brain and turned me into a violent sociopath with no feelings for other people (in fact, I have a very anti-social personality) was when a large 17 year-old "mentally retarded" man kidnapped me and tried to murder me at the age of 6. Yes, I was 6, and he had lured me to a barn and had set up a hangman's noose hanging from the rafters. This happened on my grandfather's farm in 1965, he was the son of one of the farmhands. Once he locked the door, he told me to either take off all my clothes and go naked, or he was going to hang me; strangle me until I was dead. I fought, I struggled, I screamed, and he almost had the noose around my neck, when I was rescued. It was a horror beyond belief. I have never "got over" that struggle for my life in a barn in 1965. It still haunts me to this day. By the way, he was never prosecuted and imprisoned because his IQ was under 50, and to use the vernacular of 1965, he was, "mentally retarded." I believe that close brush with death at the age of 6, of almost being murdered by a guy who was laughing and giggling as he tried to get the noose around my neck, and the fact that he got away with it; all conspired to turn me into a violent sociopath with a hair-trigger temper. Many times, when I have reflected upon my need for diapers and regression fantasies, I have thought to myself, "Is it any wonder that you want to be an infant again, messing your pants for a loving mommy who loves to change poopy diapers?" No it isn't. Loving mommies and poopy diapers are my "safe space." I believe that my desire to be a baby again, in diapers, messing my pants for mommy, is a direct result of the totality of my fucked-up life. Yeah, I'm fucked up, and I've had a fucked up life, but the diapers and regression fantasies have helped to steady me and helped me to cope with all the trauma and horror that I have had to live with.
  10. We are already friends, I have just lost touch with people. You know me as Baby Marty, or Little Stinky Britches. I use the different names on different ABDL sites. We will chat soon. Thanks.
  11. Like many questions in life, this one has many different answers: each depending upon the peculiar, specific experiences of our early childhood. For me, wearing diapers and pooping diapers (my mom called it, "filling your pants") is rooted in two words; Unconditional Love. The unconditional love of me and my poopy diapers. In my fantasies, I am 6 to 9 months-old, and a long way from any thoughts of potty training. When I fill my diapers with a soft, warm, poop, I feel infantile, childish, innocent, embarrassed, and I feel loved; unconditionally loved, because of what happens next. When my mommy, grandma, or daycare teacher smells the odor in my pants, they gently pull open the back my diaper to see if its gas or poop. For me, this is the moment of discovery, the moment of embarrassment, the moment of unconditional love. They have smelled the odor, and now they are checking my pants to confirm their suspicions. When they hold me close, and gently pull back my diaper for a peek inside, they see a huge, soft brown mess that covers my chubby bottom. They discover that I have thoroughly messed my pants, and a huge load of poop has filled my diaper. They (mommy, grandma, or daycare teacher) smile a motherly smile upon seeing the poop in my pants. This is expected and welcomed in a 9 month-old in diapers and rubber pants. Their unconditional acceptance of my poopy bottom, and the relief they feel from the motherly knowledge that I have had a good bowel movement, is for me, a moment of motherly, unconditional love. In that moment, when they pull back my diaper and see the huge mess in my pants, it is the moment that I feel unconditional love. I feel like I am in the arms of an angel, who is going to change my pants. An angel, who loves me unconditionally, and is happy that I have pooped my pants for her. I could live forever in that moment when they check my pants for poop. Again, everyone has a different answer to this question, but this is my answer. And I have had almost 60 years to think about the question. When I was stealing diapers off of neighborhood clotheslines at the age of 6 or 7 back in 1965, I was thinking about this question: Why do I want to wear diapers? Why do I enjoy pooping my pants?
  12. "What am I going to call myself when I get to be your age?" Hummm.... well, let's see. Well, I'm going to call myself what I am now: a Senior Citizen. In the U.S., a "Senior Citizen" is anyone who is 55 years or older. I am 60. I live in 55 plus, Senior Housing. Because I am 60, I qualify for every "Senior Discount" that is offered in my community because "Senior" is defined as 55 years or older. (I didn't make the rules.) Therefore, I am, and will be, for some time, a Senior Citizen. I hope that answered your question.
  13. I vividly remember my mom putting me back in diapers at the age of 2, and keeping me in diapers and rubber pants until I was around 5. Then, after that, I began stealing diapers at the age of 6 or 7. Again, I vividly remember stealing diapers off of backyard clotheslines or stealing them from the nurseries of our neighbors. Yes, I was diapering myself at the age of 6 or 7, shortly after I was in diapers until the age of 5.
  14. Hi, I'm a "senior citizen infant" because (A) I am 60 years old. And (B) I dream and fantasize about being a baby again, around 6 to 12 months old, in cloth diapers, rubber pants, snugly pinned with two blue diaper pins. (Because I am a baby boy.) I currently live in the small town of Winona, Minnesota, but I have lived and traveled all over the state, with my favorite part being the North Shore of Lake Superior. Although I love mommies and grandmas, I am not looking for a "partner" or "caregiver." For the past 30 years, I have babied and nurtured myself by hiring "phone mommies" to talk to me over the phone. Any other senior citizen babies on this forum?
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