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Hi my name is Lea and i'm looking for a caregiver close to me. i'm a sweet baby girl and I always down to have fun.

This role play is about a little girl name mary who is adopted by john and helen wilson

Looking to talk or adopt a Babygirl / Boy. Can travel and / or accommodate. PM me for chats

This role play is about a little girl who is adopted by a loving but strict. I'll play the little girt who's name is zoey.

Miles didn't know where he could possibly be; he was gagged, blindfolded, and wet with his own pee, that much he could understand. He struggled against the straps keeping his midsection locked to the surface he now lay upon, but they only tightened further with each movement. When his wet clothing was unceremoniously stripped off his body, someone spoke, but he couldn't make anything out. The blindfold, the gag, and the restraints digging into his stomach were so uncomfortable they made him want to scream. Through the gag, he let out a series of muffled screams, straining against his bonds and trying desperately to speak. His muffled babbling made drool trickle down his chin, and he whined, shifting about as he heard someone walking, shoes clicking against tile. The man reached out for what he didn't yet understand was a mobile that played music above his head, where he lay flat on his back, held fast by straps that grounded him to the spot. He was cold, uncomfortable, and nothing made sense. Tears trickled down his cheeks as he writhed, reaching up in search of something familiar, for someone who would free him from this strange nightmare. "Gaaghaa!" An incoherent cry was all that escaped his lips as the mysterious person lifted his legs, powdering him and oiling his privates before setting his legs back down. That was when the new arrival spoke, this time loud enough for Miles to make out every syllable...

This role play is about a girl named jessica (who i will play) and she notices that her parents our sad and she wants to help them.

Hi! I`m new here. Hope to get to know people.

This role play is about a girl named Kristen (who i'll play) and she would like to be punished like a little girl again.

Jenny’s Story Part 1 Jenny was a sweet baby; pretty, placid and absolutely gorgeous. That wasn’t just the opinion of her doting parents; everyone who ever met her immediately thought she should be advertising some baby product or other. Whether she was dressed to impress in her trendy baby clothes or merely crawling around in her diaper, people would stop and comment on just how cute she was. Her joyous smile made everyone cheerful; everyone being cheery seemed to make her smile all the more. Jenny was a magnet for well-being and happiness. As she grew up her sweet demeanour made her a favourite play-mate, she was fun and always happy to join in. ‘Mommies and Daddies’ was her favourite game and often, because she was so easy going, nearly always ended up playing baby. She didn’t mind, all her life she’d been used to people making a fuss around her so when her friends wanted to do the same, she simply complied – it was just a game after all. Her little chums took great delight in dressing up their ‘baby daughter’. All the way through her junior years they would pretend that some piece of material, or pretty fabric would make an eye-catching new garment. Of course it was all make believe so often the dress or blouse was terrible and ill-fitting but it didn’t stop the girls using Jenny as their baby model. Jenny didn’t mind either as long as they had done one thing correctly; she liked to be put in a diaper first. As soon as they started playing she would shuffle out of her panties and her friends, who had become very adept at the game and privy to Jenny’s penchant for protection, would have brought disposables, sibling’s diapers and an array of plastic pants to get the baby fashion show underway. Jenny loved all the preparation; the wet-wipes, the lotion, the powder and then the actual fitting everything tightly into place. She would lay there and giggle, make baby noises or, if someone had thought ahead, suck happily on a bottle or pacifier. Over the years she was able to collect quite a few items, which she treasured and kept safely stored away in her childhood memory box. It contained a few of her toys, some of her baby things and loads of her childhood clothes. It was a place her mother knew about and thought how sweet it was that her beautiful daughter should want to keep all those things in her bedroom, maybe even passing them on to her children. Of course her parents had potty-trained their gorgeous daughter fairly early on and dressed her to reflect the affluence their position demanded but they had no knowledge of her preference for being treated as a baby. In fact, when her friends came to her home Jenny always found a different game to play so, ‘Mommies and Daddies’, ‘Fashion Baby’ or any variant where a baby was involved was never allowed. She did however keep a photograph of mommy and daddy and herself as a toddler at the side of her bed. Her parents looked so proud of their beautiful daughter in her cute little dress with just a hint of her diaper and plastic pants showing under the hemline. In her heart of hearts, this was how Jenny always saw herself and always wanted to stay. Throughout her school years she kept her desire secret from all but a few. Her supply of diapers and covers only brought out for her own amusement or at times of stress. Exams or even meeting her relations caused her some anxiety; as a result she would slip on her diaper, pull up her plastic panties and crawl into bed. Any and all problems would instantly disappear as she sucked her thumb and regressed to her favourite state – that of a two year-old. Although she was an intensely good-looking girl, and later young lady, she was never confident about her body. Others of her age who might have felt a similar disconnect, found a different, often more destructive way to deal with such a dilemma but Jenny chose a place of warmth and safety. Unfortunately, her parents liked to see her grow up and admired the sweet, sophisticated, understanding and benevolent young woman she became. She gave her time and effort over to looking after children; babies, toddlers and infants up to the age of five who had been abandoned or needed sanctuary for some reason, she had, thanks to a hefty donation, opened up a place of refuge where they could stay protected and well looked after. * The safe house for children was a great success and Jenny loved looking after each and every one of those sweet tots who came her way. The reason she was so successful was because she totally identified with their simple requirements to be kept clean, tidy, fed and amused. She made life simple for herself by having each child of either sex wear only a diaper and smock so that changes were made easier and there was no pressure for them to be seen in the latest trendy clothing, every child was equal, they were all treated the same. The only choices were different coloured diapers and a wonderful array of patterned plastic covers, which the children often made a game of deciding which style to wear. Jenny was no different. She wore her diapers and plastic pants under her dress more or less like her wards, except perhaps hers weren’t as obvious as theirs but were just as colourful. In some quarters she was seen as a Saint; giving up all her time and devoting so much attention to her small but busy nursery. Loving the babies, treating her toddlers with care and making sure they enjoyed their young lives to the full, it was something she felt she was born to do. The mess that kids make was not a problem, she revelled in the noise and adventure, the ideas and play, the innocence and openness - the atmosphere was full of fun and the smell of baby powder - was intoxicating. Jenny and her few helpers would be down on the floor crawling around with the kids, babies were cuddled and rocked, meal times were a hoot and even when there were tantrums and tears, it was all treated with kisses and hugs. Jenny’s team would be having as much fun as the children, playing with toys, nuzzling teddy bears or building imaginary palaces. There wasn’t a dress code for them but a couple, like their boss, wore a diaper under their work clothes. They may have been the most responsible ‘big kids’ in the room but they had as much enjoyment as the children. Apart from the difference in size, it was often difficult to tell grown up from toddler as their diapered and crinkly bottoms interacted and played together. The place was a success and more and more people wanted their own children to be a part of that experience. Alas for Jenny, as the numbers rose so did the expense, which wouldn’t have been so bad if her sponsor’s donation hadn’t dried up and finance proved difficult to come by. The offers of monetary support she received were nowhere near what she needed to keep going and so, with a great deal of regret and emotion, the nursery closed. The children had to go to other facilities, her helpers had to find new work and Jenny was left saddened and devastated by the collapse of her project. She never thought she’d find anything to take its place or give her the satisfaction it had done. She would sit in the colourful empty nursery totally depressed, wearing nothing but her protection and sucking her thumb; she had no idea what to do next. That was until Mr Henderson appeared in her life. *tbc*

This role play is about a family that decides to live in the 1950's

Never More Content - Part 1 Rob had been with Doctor Mark Thompson now for around 19 months. It was a relationship that, at the beginning, neither could have foreseen the outcome. However, Rob has never been happier; his days are now filled with fun, adventure and that rarest of gifts… love. For these last few months he had learned that he didn’t have to fight for everything, he didn’t have to worry about anything and, in fact, he didn’t have to think at all, Daddy would see to his every need. Rob was only 14 when he tried to mug the rich-looking man who was getting out of his BMW. His stomach was empty and he was desperate because for the last few weeks he had been living rough on the streets. He’d had to learn how to survive quickly since he ‘left’ home and he wasn’t doing too well. Opportunities to find food, shelter and safety weren’t as easy to come by as he had hoped they would be. In fact, he hadn’t had a decent meal or a place to stay since he’d slammed the door and swore at that drunken bitch… his mother. Recently, his home life had deteriorated badly, he’d been expelled from school because of his mounting violent streak, he fought against any form of authority, he hated the world and everyone in it and he needed to get OUT. However, living rough was even worse. When he wasn’t being offered drugs, he was the victim of those desperate drug addicts who saw him as an easy target. He carried the cuts and bruises to prove it as he was no match against the rougher element he met. His stomach ached with hunger and he urgently needed to get some money and this smart, swanky, well-to-do guy appeared to have loads. In the past he'd begged for money but people either took no notice, as if he didn’t exist or worse, screamed abuse at him for daring to ask for help. The only way he’d found effective was to threaten, then he was listened to and the sharp 8” blade he now carried certainly got most people’s attention. He waved it at the BMW owner and demanded money but his threat was swiftly countered by a speedy kick from the man that sent the knife spinning through the air and a follow up kick to the would-be mugger’s head that knocked him to the ground. It all happened so fast that Rob didn’t know what hit him until he regained consciousness… then things really began to get weird. Forty year-old Mark Thompson is a man who knows what he wants. He left school and university with an armful of top class awards, flourished quickly in his specialised field and found the demanding intensity of his martial arts programme the perfect way to relax, keep fit and stay alert. In the dark he hadn’t realised the age of his assailant, all he saw was a body rushing towards him and a fleeting glimpse of a steely pointed object being jabbed in his direction. His training took over and in a nanosecond the would-be assassin was dropped to the ground unconscious. As he checked the prone body he realised that the youth lying at his feet was in need of some treatment. He reached down and easily picked up the grubby, thin urchin and carried him to his apartment just a few yards away. The boy was filthy. His clothes were torn and tattered whilst the bruises and cuts on his hands and face made Mark wonder what the poor little guy had been through recently (apart from a kick to the head that is). He got the lad into his home and started to inspect the comatose body now he had light to see just what his injuries were. He removed the lad’s thin jacket and t-shirt and saw that there was a very bad, festering cut on his arm that appeared to have gone untreated for some time. He removed the boy’s trainers and jeans and saw that he was just a mass of bruises and, strangely perhaps, he felt sorry for his would-be mugger. The boy was still out for the count so Mark called a friend of his who was a doctor and asked him to come around and check the boy out. He arrived minutes later from an apartment in the same block just as Mark had finished trying to wipe as much grime away as possible and the lad was beginning to regain consciousness. Although not fully compos mentis Rob realised that something was going on and he was being touched… so he lashed out. Although there was hardly any force to the blow he managed to cuff the doctor at the side of his head and was about to throw another punch when Mark grabbed his arms and pinned him down. Despite being naked and having little strength he tried to fight back and break away from his captives. Alas, he was no match for them and a quick injection from the doctor calmed him down and he drifted off into unconsciousness again. Once he’d gotten over the brief commotion Paul, the doctor, carried out his examination and treated the bruises and cuts on the pale thin body as best he could. His diagnosis was more malnutrition than any great injury but recommended that the large cut on the boy’s arm was kept under scrutiny for any infection. He gave the boy various injections that would help him recover and suggested that Paul feed the lad up before letting him go… or call the police… or do whatever he was going to do with his young attacker. “He’ll be out for about 12 hours,” the doctor informed Mark. “So, is there anything else… or can I get back to Little Liam? I left him sitting in front of the TV watching the Cartoon Channel.” He saw Mark’s raised eyebrows, “Yes again,” he said with a shrug of the shoulders, “it’s his favourite.” Before he left Mark asked Paul to check to see if the lad had been sexually abused. Paul checked the boy’s anus and said that it was inflamed and torn and he reckoned that the lad must have been the subject of a vicious attack, and had probably been raped… and perhaps more than once was his diagnosis. Mark sighed “Poor little fellow.” Mark looked down at the lad once more and began to wonder what had driven this sorry looking soul to this point. He was even worried that if he threw him out and back onto the streets, the boy would be an easy victim of some unscrupulous druggies or bullies. He wondered what he could do to help; after all, he was a trained (and rather expensive) behavioural psychologist, perhaps he could help sort the lad out. As he speculated he suddenly became aware of a strong aroma and gathered that the boy had just urinated onto his leather sofa. He quickly grabbed the nearest thing to hand to mop it up, which led to the lad’s thin t-shirt, pants and jeans soon soaked with stinking piss. Rob was unaware of what had happened as Mark took these smelly objects and tossed them into the washing machine. Then he realised he couldn’t leave the lad naked so went off to find something to cover him with. Mindful that he needed to protect his sofa from any further accidents he found a large towel and some safety pins. Returning to the sleeping boy he fitted it like a diaper around the lad’s waist. Whilst pulling the towel up between the lad’s legs and fastening it tightly a sudden shiver ran down Mark’s spine. He caught his breath at this moment of recognition. His mind catapulted him back to the last time he’d done this - it was during his final exams in his last year of senior school. A huge trauma had recently affected Mark and he remembered waking up some mornings to find he’d unconsciously wet the bed. The trauma had been the dramatic death of his father in an explosion at the chemical plant where he worked, which had killed 17 others and had devastating consequences to all concerned. Finding he’d wet the bed at his age was another upset he found difficult to deal with and although he and his mother were very close, he didn’t want to burden her at this time with what he saw as a ‘stupid childish’ problem. Each night he’d diaper himself with a towel just in case he wet again and every morning he’d wake to find it soaked but on the plus side… at least the bed and bedding were reasonably dry. The pressure of exams and the death of his loving father, who had encouraged him to do well and to work hard, had ultimately had a distressing effect. He wanted his dad to be proud of him so worked exceptionally hard to pass his exams. The hours he put in to revision, the empty loss he felt inside, the sadness he could only imagine his mother was going through, all just built and built until it found some kind of release. It was just over a week that he’d been diapering himself when his mom found out. It was early one Monday morning when she entered his bedroom to wake him and found him sat on the edge of his bed in the soaked makeshift diaper. His youthful looks were etched with anguish as he shrugged not even trying to hide his obvious shame. She hugged her bed-wetting son and told him that he shouldn’t have to carry that worry on his own as she was there for him… for anything… and everything. Between them they would meet head on and solve any problem that came up. They had always been close and, like when his dad was alive, there were few secrets in this loving family. He was relieved that he didn’t have to pretend to her anymore and, as she sat beside him, both cried in their mutual sorrow. Once the tears were almost dried up she asked if he needed any help with his diapers. Apart from the soggy one, which at that moment was hanging heavily between his legs, he wasn’t sure what she meant. He gave a side-long look at his sympathetic mother and asked if she was offering to change him. She giggled, relieving what could have been a tense situation, and put her hand to her mouth as if she’d said something really stupid. They both laughed. “If I thought you needed it, of course I would, but you seem to be coping OK.” She looked into his eyes reassuringly. “But,” and she looked down at the sagging diaper, “don’t forget the other things… you don’t want to be getting a diaper rash at your age.” She paused to check he was still OK with what she was saying, “What I meant was, do you need me to get you anything?” He realised she was correct… it had all been a bit haphazard. He hadn’t been taking care of that side of his diaper hygiene, just having a shower then dressing for college… and his crotch and bum were raw and beginning to itch. His mom bought him some more appropriate disposables, plastic pants and assorted lotions and powders, it was like when he was a kid again and she loved the diversion from her own problems. One evening when Mark was getting ready for bed and applying his night time protection his mom came in and asked him if he recalled that he went through a similar period of bed-wetting when he was four. He remembered but, perhaps surprisingly, not in a negative way… it had all been so normal. She told him that he’d been potty-trained for two years when, just before he started school, he started to wet again. “Stress,” she said as if it was the answer, “you were very scared of leaving me and going to school.” His mom went on to tell him about the fun she and his father had with diapering their slightly older, but still little scamp as he played. “Wearing a diaper never stopped you doing anything. You never seemed to worry about it.” Indeed, from the moment it had been suggested that he needed to go back into diapers to save the bedding and loads of washing, he seemed to accept it. His dad was determined that he shouldn’t get distressed by being back in a diaper so had gone out of his way to be positive when his son was wearing them. This was partly due to the fact that he had also wet the bed as a child and his father, Mark’s grandfather, had given his own son such a horrible time about it; ridiculing and chastising him all the time. Mark’s dad was determined that if that type of misfortune should happen to his own son he would never be made to feel guilty about it. In fact, his dad, and mom to a certain degree, had loved having their 4 year-old baby back. They loved him scampering around the house in just a diaper and it never bothered young Mark because he was always being told it was normal as it was no more than just another style of underwear. The truth was that both his parents had loved his sweet little padded butt getting into all the things a 4 year-old got into. His dad had made it into a game for Mark and bought special plastic covers for his son’s diapers. Soon the little imp was running around in brightly coloured pants, that although made the padding thicker, didn’t seem to hinder his ability, or confidence, in getting around. At school there was no difficulty as he wasn’t the only one still in diapers and while at home, he seemed to prefer to wear little else. Even though it started as just a night time precaution, Mark was often up and dressed first thing in a morning before his parents and he’d have fastened himself into a diaper for the day… no matter what he was doing or where he was going. Both his mom and dad thought this was the cutest thing and Mark himself seemed to love each new design that was slipped over his diaper… often choosing the colour and pattern that his dad offered him each day. He wore all that extra padding from 4 years until he was almost eight, when, after a stay-over with his friend Danny, he'd asked his mom to buy him some big boy pants for when he started school again. Although his parents were sad that their little boy had grown up, they didn’t want to keep him dressed that way if he it made him unhappy. As his mum told him this story, parts of that time came flooding back to him and he remembered it as a period when he had never been happier. There was a great deal of loving attention from both his mom and dad and he recalled the constant picking up and hugging by them both. “We just loved patting your thick diapered butt.” His mom had said with a reminiscing smile, “and you… well you’d never seemed more content”. Suddenly those words struck him “never more content” and he knew exactly what he could do with his young, would-be assailant. His mind was suddenly dazzled with the possibility of this new enterprise. As the boy slept on oblivious of the thoughts that were now so appealing to Mark, the psychologist regretted chucking the lad’s clothing into the wash. As the final spin-cycle came to a stop he realised that any clues to his identity would probably have been washed away. The damp bundle of clothes revealed nothing at all. In fact, only the boy’s jeans appeared to have held together, the rest had simply dissolved to mere bits and pieces not even fit for rags. Finding out any information about the boy was now down to what he was prepared to reveal. He wasn’t sure if this would be a problem but looking down on the lad, wrapped in such a thick diaper, he thought it all might be worth the effort. He had this grand plan developing in his head as he slipped upstairs to his doctor friend to tell him about his intentions and to borrow some items that he thought would come in useful. ***tbc***

Are there any abdl boys or daddies around the Sparta, Franklin, or Ogdensburg Area of NJ?

This role play is about a adult female who's name is ashley has agreed to become a baby for a couple. I'll play Ashley

This role play is about a little girl who is adopted by a couple that could not have any children.

This role play is about a little girl named Debbie who travels back in time to the 1950's

This role play is about a women who has agreed to be a couples little girl.

I've noticed that to many in the community this is a difficult situation,

I am having a hard time as I first became very attracted to plastic pants when a lady I was dating showed up wearing cute pink PP under her skirt one evening. I have never been aroused so quickly in my life! However, I found it difficult to find another person who will even consider playing like that. Recently I began using diapers and plastic pants at night in bed for stimulation. However, now I like wetting them and I

Would like to do a roleplay where a mother still dresses up their kid in childish clothing. She calls for a babysitter for their kid because she doesn't trust him/her alone anymore while the parent is starting a new job. That babysitter turns out to be the kids friend. So when they see that there mom still dresses them like the kid is still a child.

Hello! This is my first time on here but I am a 26 year old from Illinois. I got into ddlg/abdl through bdsm and really identified myself as a daddy. I love taking care of a little one and just making her happy. I love to see the smile on her face. Currently I am looking for a little girl that I can take care of, but first chat and talk to haha.

This role play is about a adult girl who has agreed to become a baby for a couple that can not have any children.

Had an idea this morning and put down three short paragraphs.

So last year I told my fiance that I am into abdl and Roleplaying it and he is totally accepting of it. Then a few months later I told him I wanted to call him daddy but then I kinda shyed