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Want friends who wears diaper because they are comfortable wearing. Want to hangout with friends who wears

Hey guys and girls, I've just recently moved to the area and I'm looking for Abdl/dl friends I'm 27 male amd recently moved to thurgoona :)

Haiii!!! I'm Stacey, 18 and I'm looking for a mommy who I could be little with! My little age ranges from 2-3 maybe 4 at the highest, I love cutesy things, the color pink, horsies etc! I'd love to meet a mommy who is soft, kind, and caring and who might be okay being in an ANR in the future! A little about little me! I am clingy, and really really emotional and vulnerable. My little age is around 2-4 and I prefer to be nonverbal. I love cuddling and hugging and anything super comfy and soft like stuffies or blankets! If there is anything my little side would want, it would be being able to be held and told that everything will be okay. I love bedtime stories and having a bedtime routine of sorts! Expect little me to playfully disobey, I like being put in my place every now and then! I also love being called pet names or nicknames! Expect a lot of spelling mistakes as well, I normally struggle with spelling! A bit about big me! I am extremely introverted and can be really shy and nervous. I love soft and cutesy things and coquette fashion. I love drawing and playing guitar, artsy things are my passion!! I'm just a little princess trying to find her mommy!

Dear Diapered Friends Who are a Young Adults (18+) or an Adult Baby (21+) or a bit of both or Just a Diaper Lover or someone looking for a caregiver , I would like to know in this topic of discussion that if there are a private adoption for those who are a teen-baby or an adult-baby or just someone who is a diaper lover but needs a real caregiver. Hopefully in this topic of discussion would shed a light for those who are seeking a private adoption of these kind. I have heard in several diaper chat rooms that there's been a successful adoption of teenage children up to an adult age being adopted by someone legally and lived in their homes to get taken care of and some even migrate from overseas to get taken care of. If this were true it will be a dream come true for some individuals who cannot live in their own homes while wanting to wear diapers and being taken care of and needs. Nevertheless they mentioned something about the issue of trust. Some must show themselves in either to gain full trust to live in someone's home to be taken care of. Although this may sound too good to be true but in fact it is real that has happen out there in the open. For those teenagers who felt miserable because they are not allowed to wear diapers in their own homes because they don't need to. But if there is someone who would adopt this young teenagers they will move into a good home where they can fully support into their life style in diapers. Some of these teenagers would have to deal with it if they are forbidden to wear diapers in their own home. For those lucky teenagers that found a good home where they can be adopted to wear diapers all the time everyday then that is very good. This goes the same with some young to an adult diaper wearer. Sometimes they want not just a role-playing Mommy or Daddy or a Fetish Sugar Mommy or a Fetish Sugar Daddy who would pay for their full time diaper desire. Once again if those young adult to the full grown diaper wearer who have found these generous care givers I would like to congratulate them on their new life style. So my point is. Are there any real Mommy or Daddy or them Fetish Sugar Mommy or the Fetish Sugar Daddy type who wish to care for some one please go show yourself here. It will be a dream comes true if this will help some of those to live in a true an everyday daily lifestyle of a true diaper wearer without having to role-play in their secluded fantasy world. You will be living in your dreams to the maximum point until it is hard to go back to your previous non diaper life style. Whilst sexual intercourse is not necessary or maybe prohibited unless there are agreements by each individuals. This doesn't have to related with any sexual preference to it. I hope this topic of discussion would help a bit to inspire others who will be ready to offer themselves to care for others. You can open a classified about yourself to advertise it in the Diaper Forums saying that you are willing to do it. Let this be an eye opener to some who are ready willing to do so. Technically I'm looking for someone to say something to start this topic of discussion so it will lead into positive results for the Diaper Wearers to go out in the open freely without the burden of waiting to feel good about themselves. By starting small from families to families then the diaper communities will start to open more, from a closed up diaper venues there could be bigger events, hopefully there will be a Diaper Island like place then soon if things grows bigger there will be a DIAPER COUNTRY soon - although this is just another fantasy for ours to be kept in here - who agrees who disagree. Thank you for reading this topic - hopefully this topic will be helpful for the others - forgive me if my grammar is bad because there are many Grammar Nazi out there but I'm just decliningly slow due to a lots of daily stress I often had which leads to an uncertain light depression that made me a little more scribbly when I type. Take care all. Please respond here for the others to read about.

Part 1: Riley was a powerful businesswoman, a force to be reckoned with. As the lead litigator for a major multinational corporation, she had clawed her way to the top through sheer determination, intelligence, and an unrelenting drive to win. Recently, she had stumbled upon evidence of illegal activities within the company—activities that could bring the entire empire crashing down if exposed. Rather than reporting it, Riley saw an opportunity. She blackmailed the CEO, Tom Kaplan. In the end she received an enormous compensation package, a significant minority stake in the company, and a promotion to the position of general counsel. In return, she had agreed to scrub all evidence of the company’s misdeeds, burying the illegal activities under layers of obfuscating legal paperwork and jargon. To the outside world, everything was now squeaky clean—untraceable, untouchable. But Riley was no fool. She had kept one piece of leverage for herself: a flash drive containing the original, unaltered evidence. No one knew about it—no one but her. It was her insurance policy, her ultimate trump card. If she ever found herself in hot water with the government, the company, or anyone else, this little chip would be her salvation. Now, Riley was en route to Switzerland to secure the flash drive in a safety deposit box, ensuring its protection. She had reached out to an old friend from grad school, Tiffany, who had risen to a prominent position at a secretive Swiss bank. Tiffany was as cutthroat as she was brilliant, with a beauty that turned heads wherever she went. Enormous breasts, long blonde hair, a sculpted athletic figure with a tight waist, visible abs, and an ass that could stop traffic—Tiffany was the kind of woman who made men drool and women seethe with envy. Riley, though beautiful in her own right, had a more slender, petite frame. She knew that, in the eyes of most, Tiffany was the prize. And Riley hated her for it. But Tiffany was also someone Riley could trust—for the right price. Riley boarded the plane early, settling into her first-class seat. She had purchased the seat beside her for full privacy, ensuring no one would disturb her. As the rest of the passengers filed in, she barely glanced their way. A bunch of rabble, she thought dismissively. Good thing she didn’t have to mingle with them. She pressed the call button, summoning the flight attendant with a sharp, impatient gesture. When the woman arrived, Riley snapped, “Champagne. Now.” The flight attendant returned moments later with a glass, which Riley accepted with a barely concealed sneer. She took a small sip and immediately scowled. “This is room temperature,” she hissed, her voice dripping with disdain. “Do you expect me to toast my success with warm champagne?” The flight attendant stammered an apology, explaining that the fridge was set as cold as it could go. Riley dismissed her with a wave of her hand and a few more cutting remarks. She leaned back in her seat, sipping the subpar champagne despite her disgust. Beneath her, she thought. All of it. But she had no other choice. As she drank, an overwhelming sense of exhaustion began to creep over her. It wasn’t the kind of tiredness that came with sleep—it was a deep, bodily fatigue that seemed to seep into her very bones. Panic surged through her as she realized something was wrong. The plane was mid-takeoff, the roar of the engines drowning out any chance of her cries for help being heard. She reached up to press the call button, but her coordination was failing. Her arm felt heavy, unresponsive. She tried again, but her fingers fumbled, unable to find the button. Finally, her arm fell limp at her side. She slumped back into her seat, her body immobile. Darkness crept in from the edges of her vision, swallowing her whole. The last thing she saw before losing consciousness was the faint glow of the cabin lights, blurring into nothingness. When Riley came to, her mind was foggy, her thoughts sluggish. She blinked, trying to clear the haze, and immediately realized something was terribly wrong. She tried to move, but her arms and legs were restrained—strapped to the armrests and seat with padded cuffs. She tried to scream, but her mouth was stuffed with something rubbery and unyielding. A pacifier, she realized with a jolt of horror. Cold air brushed against her skin, and she glanced down, her eyes widening in disbelief. The sharp black pantsuit she had boarded the plane in was gone. In its place was a garish pink onesie, covered in Hello Kitty imagery. The shirt portion clung tightly to her tors and left her toned thighs exposed. But that wasn’t the worst of it. Between her legs, she felt something thick and bulky, pushing out the fabric of the onesie. Her stomach churned as the realization hit her: she was wearing a diaper. Riley’s breath came in short, panicked gasps around the pacifier. She thrashed her head from side to side, trying to dislodge it, but it was firmly fixed in her mouth. The muffled sounds of her protests filled the cabin, but no one came to her aid. Then, the flight attendant appeared. She stepped into view with a calm, almost clinical detachment. Without a word, she reached for the pacifier and pulled it free. Riley gasped, drawing in a deep breath, ready to unleash a torrent of curses and demands. But before she could speak, the flight attendant raised a small spray bottle and spritzed a fine mist into Riley’s mouth. The effect was immediate. Riley’s mouth went numb, her tongue heavy and unresponsive. She tried to form words, but all that came out was a garbled, drooling mess. Her lips hung slack, her jaw loose and uncoordinated. The flight attendant didn’t stop there. She grabbed Riley’s forehead with surprising force, shoving her head back against the headrest. In one fluid motion, she lowered a padded metal band over Riley’s forehead, securing it tightly in place. Riley’s head was now immobilized, her field of vision fixed straight ahead. The flight attendant then reinserted the pacifier into Riley’s mouth, reattaching a strap that looped around the back of her head, ensuring it couldn’t be spat out. The flight attendant stepped away, leaving Riley to gurgle and mewl helplessly through her pacifier. Her muffled protests were drowned out by the hum of the plane’s engines, her body trembling with a mixture of rage and humiliation. Just as she began to thrash against her restraints, the screen in front of her flickered to life. Tom Kaplan’s smug face filled the frame, his lips curling into a smirk as he greeted her. “Hello, Riley,” he said, his voice dripping with mockery. “I see you’ve made yourself comfortable. Quite the outfit, by the way. Very… youthful.” Riley’s eyes burned with fury, her body shaking as she glared at him. Tom leaned back in his chair, clearly enjoying himself. “Congratulations on your new promotions, by the way. The board and I were so impressed with your… initiative. Really, we were. But when you left yourself with the option to double-cross us again? Well, that was just a bridge too far.” Riley’s heart pounded in her chest as the reality of her situation sank in. “You’re probably wondering how we found out,” Tom continued, his tone light and conversational. “Well, let’s just say you can’t trust anyone these days. Tiffany sends her regards, by the way. She was more than happy to sell you out for the right price.” Riley’s vision blurred with tears of rage and betrayal. Her mind raced, but there was no escape, no way out. She was trapped—physically, mentally, and emotionally. Tom’s grin widened. “Don’t worry, Riley. We’re not going to hurt you. In fact, we’re giving you an early retirement. Consider it a reward for all your hard work.” Riley’s eyes widened in disbelief. Early retirement? What was he talking about? Tom continued, his voice taking on a patronizing tone. “You see, Riley, we decided not to leave any loose ends this time. Tiffany was actually on this same plane last night, coming back from Switzerland to pick up her check and celebrate the successful transaction. Turns out she also using it for her return leg.” At that moment, the flight attendant wheeled out an enormous pram from the forward cabin. It was far larger than anything a child would use, its front covered with a thick blanket. From inside, Riley could hear soft mewling and cooing sounds. “Sounds like someone’s waking up from her nap,” Tom said with a chuckle. The flight attendant pulled back the blanket, revealing Tiffany. Riley’s breath caught in her throat. Tiffany lay in the pram, her wide, glazed-over eyes staring blankly at the ceiling. There was no trace of the sharp, cunning woman Riley had known. Embroidered on the side of the pram was the demeaning nickname: Tiffy. Tiffany was stark naked except for an enormous, adult-sized diaper. It was unlike anything Riley had ever seen. This was no pair of depends. It was obscenely thick and covered in childish patterns from the show Bluey. A wetness indicator ran down the middle of the diaper, its color beginning to change from yellow to blue at the bottom, indicating that it had already seen some use. Her hair was pulled back into a pony tail. A comically large pink bow sat planted in the front of her hair.

"The Dumb Baby Maker: Full ABDL Hypnosis and Brainwashing. Causes incontinence, blind obedience, helplessness, and infantile speech patterns. Guaranteed to ensure your little subby's brain is turned to mush and deposited into their diapers. Lowers effective IQ 80%!" Baby looked at the box of CD's and headphones. She held it up and skimmed the warnings. "Only use if 100% certain of blah blah blah, ensure decent supply of diapers and blah blah blah... Are you sure you want to do this? If it works the way it says you'll REALLY need to take care of me. It says it makes the user a completely helpless idiot and totally diaper dependant." Her Daddy smiled. "In that case the real question is "do we really need it?" I think we acheived the goals already." He put a hand on her hip then turned her to the side and examined the back of her diaper. "Hmm. Clean for once. Shocker." She smiled back at him. "I can change that if you want." He shrugged. "Maybe later. Lets try the first one." He opened the box and took out a pair of headphones, player, and disk. "Really old fashioned," Baby said. "Yeah it's to save money. Made by Alex's Cheap Practical Low-cost Objective-Based Technology Devices. They are simple ways to acheive specific results easily so we can just move and not worry about it. Anyway, the first disk is called "Complex Thought: Who Needs it?" And says it will target your advanced problem solving. From there we can move onto "The Toilet is Evil: UnPotty Training" and "Baby Says What?: Bable talk For Dummies." He flipped through the disks. "These really target everything. By the end, you'll be a dumb baby for sure." He looked down at his girfriend. A blond haired woman, thirty years old, she she was nevertheless wearing a simple t shirt and a diaper, with a pacifier hanging around her neck, and knelt on the floor in front of him. She was gawking up at him, and had drolled a bit on to her shirt. From the looks of the slightly darker shade of her diaper, it wasn't the only thing she made wet. "I mean, more so then you already are." She smiled. "OK DADDY! Lets go!" He bent forward and put the headphones on her. ... SNAP SNAP SNAP Baby woke up to Daddy's fingers snapping in front of her. "Whoah wha?" she asked. "Whats going on?" "You just finished the first CD, the one targeting Complex Thought." "Oh... did it work?" "Well, if you have to ask..." She looked up at him, mouth hanging open. "Yes? If you have to ask, what?" He chuckled. "Nevermind babygirl. Lets test it shall we?" "OK!" She said, bouncing up and down on her knees. "Hmmmm..." he put a finger to his chin. "Whats five plus five?" She paused. The question still seemed annoyingly simple. "Ten." He nodded. "That's right, Baby. How about six minus six?" "Zero," the answer came easily. "Maybe it didn't work?" "Hmmm," he seemed to think again. "Maybe it didn't." "Try something harder!" "Alright. Five times five?" "Twenty five," She said, disappointed. "Square root of a hundred?" "Ten," she rolled an eye. "Get a refund?" "One thousand, one hundred and fifty seven times one thousand three hundred and fourty two." She paused and thought. "One million five hundred and fifty two thousand, six hundred and ninty four." He took out his cell phone, and she assumed he was checking. "Smart baby. What is the area of a right angle triangle?" She shook her head. "I don't know. Not enough information to answer." "Very smart baby." "Yeah..." She looked down. "Was kind of hoping I'd be... I don't know, dumber." He laughed and nodded. "Yep, me too." "So refund?" He shrugged. "Let's try the UnToilet Training one tomorow, and see how it goes. I know you're still a smart baby, but maybe the other's will work." "Ok Daddy," She said, though she couldn't hide her disapointment. ... ... The next day, Baby was sitting in a play pen in her kitchen, surrounded by her toys. Bored and frustrated, she made a stuffed elephant "walk" around the pen. She picked it up, looked at it in the face, growled and threw it against the netting, then leaned back on her bottom and folded her arms. The second CD hadn't worked either. It went on her head, played its weird noises, and when it was done, nothing inside her changed. And as a result, nothing outside her needed changing either, least of all her diaper. She looked down at it, and growled again. She bounced up and down on her bottom. "NO NO NO NO NO! HMPH!" She said, and folded her arms. "Now now Baby, I know your frustrated, but Daddy will find a solution." "Hmph," She said again, still folding her arms. Daddy, in fact, had already been working on a solution. He told her that if the CD didn't work, he'd try to acheive the same with a "Special recipe" he found online. He walked around the kitchen grabbing pots and pants and mixing ingredients into a massive pot of baked beans, which he claimed would guarantee a dirty diaper when she ate it. From the smell of it, she wasn't sure if the taste would be worth the effects. She turned away from the bubbling pots and groaned. "I don't know if I'll want to eat that Daddy. It smells awful." He looked at her. "Well if the CD isn't working you'll need some way to get there." "I know but..." She shook her head. "Ew." Was all she could muster. He tapped his spoon against the pot. "Alright, fair enough. It does stink in here. Speaking of..." He walked over to her. "Lets check that diaper agian, just in case." She rolled her eyes. "It's still clean Daddy, the tape didn't work." "Right," he pulled her forward and opened the back of her diaper, ensuring she was right. "Yep, one clean diaper after a full day. Sorry sweetie." "It's just not fair! All that time and money, and my diaper is still clean!" "I know, I know sweetie," He bent down and picked her up in a hug with her legs around his wasit and his hand on her bottom, and she clung tight to him. He patted her bottom. "Sorry you can't be a stinky baby." She put her head into him. "I know Daddy." "Well, come on," he said, and began carrying her out of the kitchen. "Where are we going Daddy?" "To the changing table, Baby." "Why? My diaper is clean." "I know your diaper is clean," he patted her bottom. "That's the problem. You've been sitting in the same clean diaper all day, and if you aren't going to use it, we still need to change it like we would any other clean underwear. Otherwise, since you can keep it clean for so long, it will still get gross with sweat and skin cells and fall apart, which is gross, right? So lets get you into your bedtime diaper then some PJs so you don't get a rash, ok? Sound good?" She nodded. "Yes Daddy." "Good girl," he patted her again. "Changing one totally clean diaper for another." (this story is request/prize for BabyVampers on twitter, who won a competition I found to find the "dumbest baby/subby on twitter" and requested a fitting story as a reward)