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Looking for Ab/Dl's in Melbourne region wanted to meet a few new people

Author's Note: Set in England in the recent past, an minor aristocratic family has a rather odd approach to potty training. My first attempt at a diaper story, I hope to keep it short, sweet, and slightly funny. Chapter One I feel, dear reader, that I must bring you up to speed. It has often been observed by our own sort, but more frequently (and, rather obviously) by our observers, that the landed gentry develop idiosyncratic ways. Cooped up, as they often are, in drafty old houses miles from even a mere whiff of civilisation, bizarre microcosms of humanity begin to form. This of course was compounded before the advent of the motorcar, so the prospect of reprieve was so distant that complete acceptance of their lot was pretty much guaranteed. Some formed little languages of their own - I once spent a summer in a Tudor dump up north where the word "peach" was used for so many things I could barely keep track. One of my distant uncles, I'm reliably informed by the man in the pub, started a tradition of shooting at funny shaped clouds every morning at five o'clock. More shockingly, the Preston-Barts in Hampshire are Catholic. Our family, however, is perhaps the most peculiar of them all (N.B. - ought that to be perculairest? Look up later.). Since around about the mid 17th Century - no one is quite sure of the date - almost all of our family have returned to nappies pretty sharpish after they were so unjustly taken from us. Indeed, so common is this circumstance that when the 6th Baronet demolished the family home to rebuild it in the Georgian style, he neglected to add any toilets. Of course, the attempt to potty train is still made, although the lack of alternative facilities makes this really part of the whole dance. I was around five when I was taken out of nappies in the day, and about six when I was taken out of them at night. I was soon whisked off to school, and, only returning to the old place a few times a year, was mostly using the W of C as one might expect. I did still, however, wet the bed, perhaps once or twice a week, but by summer term of my second year, that too subsided. A few cycles of the heavens later, as that chap from Greece might have said, I was facing a rather long stretch in the house over summer. My father usually took us off to Italy in the nicer months, but having lost a fair bit on a rather extravagant bet involving a friendly game of chess and an absurd amount of rice, it was safe to say he didn't have the oomph that particular year. So, at they joyful age of 12, I was stuck in that rotten place with no one near my age except my older sister, Ethel. Ethel had just turned eighteen, and was ghastly. Although I'm not certain what exactly a ghast is like, she was certainly like one. So it was that one morning about two weeks into my incarceration that I was lying on my stomach in the drawing room pretending to practice my Latin grammar, when really drawing rather vicious caricatures of my house masters at school. Ethel was curled up in an armchair reading "The Arabic Princess" and padded up to the nines in nappies. She had only spent about a year out of them, as it happens, at age fourteen, and was dreadfully engrossed in her book; made even more apparent by the growing wet patch between her legs. As I lay there attempting to recall the precise shape and nature of Mr Mulch's nose, I suddenly felt as though a small switch had been flicked in my brain. I couldn't tell then what the switch was controlling, but rather soon it made itself very clear. I noticed, one rapidly after the other, a pressure in my bladder and bowels. I very quickly filled my underwear with those respective contents, continuing to examine the visual faculties of noses as I did so. Now, it wasn't as though it had snuck up on me, as it does when one wets the bed, nor was it that I had made a conscious effort to empty myself, but more that I simply no longer cared. Ethel, ghastly as ever, didn't notice my change in state, but to be fair, I barely did either. It wasn't until mother came in to call us for lunch that I was discovered. Mother squealed in delight - "I knew you'd come round, dear. Let's pop upstairs, shall we?". I was, waddling slightly, led up to my room, where, after asking the maid for supplies, mother and I opened my chest of drawers and formed a pile of my underwear on the bedspread. "I shan't expect I'll be needing these anymore," I informed her with a hint of triumph in my voice. The maid soon returned with supplies - a vast quantity of nappies, talcum powder and flannels, a changing mat and waterproof mattress cover - and took away my underwear to be disposed of. I was thereafter changed into a nappy for the first time in six years, and followed mother down to lunch. Chapter Two A decade later, at the ripe old age of twenty-two, brings us up to just before now. I was rattling up the drive in my new car, pretty chuffed with the world. I shifted my weight in my soaked nappy as I changed gear, and felt thankful for the modern marvel of synthetic leather - I'd had the car reupholstered in it, by the same chaps in Florence who make our changing mats. Much had changed in the intervening ten years, although mostly along the obvious path, but not so much re: the nappy situation, although no one would really expect it to. I did relatively well in my schooling exams, and went up to Oxford to read Art History. Never had much trouble about the choice of underwear, but then again my family's habit was well known even amongst those who didn't know me, and so it was let slide. After all, Peeker Preston-Barts was a Catholic! So I graduated with a Third Class Honours, which was to be expected, and spent a while hanging around Europe. It was there I met a corker of a woman - Cherry Otherington. You see, it wasn't just an overfull nappy that accompanied me up the drive, but the delight that was Cherry herself. I'm not one for gushing, but she was certainly very pretty. Not particularly tall - definitely not in the vein of a Michelangelo - but if I were to stretch the sculptural analogy, much more suited to a bust, if you hop on my drift. A small blonde bob topped the whole thing off, like a... Well, like a cherry, I suppose. We pulled up outside the house and the footmen, a fair number of them new, scurried away our luggage, and, shortly, the car. Mother met us over the threshold, beaming. "I hope you had a pleasant journey," she said, "and you must be Cherry, oh how lovely it is to meet you at last!". "It's lovely to see you too, Ma," I failed to reply. "Now," she continued, "We're just about to serve tea in the conservatory; do either of you need a change?" Cherry, after a flash of bemusement sent my way, diplomatically replied, "No, I think these clothes will be fine 'til the evening, if that's alright with you?". "Don't be silly!" Mother replied, "Do you need to change your nappy? - I know I do, I was just too excited waiting for you!". A further and more intense glance of bemusement was pinged my way, this time by both women; a veritable barrage of pinging. "Oh I know this old chap does," Cherry returned, "But I have been free from nappies since I was about four, thank you." "Well I'm not sure I would call it a freedom, Cherry, but you might struggle here. This house is rather lacking in the way of toilets. I imagined my son would have informed you!" Mother batted back, her English temperament almost straining at the leash. "I'm sure I'll be fine," my corker replied, before finally turning her attention to me, "Come on, you need a change though, don't you? Let's get that sorted and then come down for tea." The situation not so much de-escalted as hovering in mid air, we moved toward the staircase, and I let my soon to be removed nappy fill with poo. Mother briskly, although with slightly apart legs, called a maid for assistance in a ground-floor changing room. Once upstairs, like a cheap tailor, I attempted to patch things up with Cherry. "Look here," I said, as she removed my filled nappy, "I don't want you and Mother getting off on the wrong foot, but you should be alright with the lack of toilets; there's one in the gamekeeper's cottage at the back of the south garden." "Oh thank you, darling," she replied whilst applying copious amounts of talcum powder, "but I think I shall be alright until tomorrow." She patted my now fresh nappy and handed me my trousers, after which we made our way back down the staircase at to tea. The rest of the day passed rather smoothly - I took a brief leave to change Ethel, now slightly less ghastly, as she was as ever engrossed in a book and demanded not to be disturbed. Dinner was tremendous - the wine flowed much as wine does when it does flow - and we were all, I dare say, getting pretty squiffy in the drawing room at around ten. Cherry, due perhaps to her non-Michaelangelo stature, was really rather drunk, and so took some herbal tea to sober up. Ethel, having finished her book, was now repeating the entire plot to an audience who were so un-captive that 'bored out of their sculls' would hardly cut it. Cherry, after sitting quiet for a while and appearing as though she was gently dodging invisible fish, leaned over and whispered in my ear. "I say, I've just had the most peculiar sensation - like a switch being flicked!". No sooner as she had finished speaking, the sound well known in our house - that of a stream of pee against the enameled floor - gently lifted itself through the air. "Darling," she continued with no hint of sorrow, "I think I've had an accident". I do mean to continue this, but, If I don't, I hope that was satisfactory. Comments appreciated.

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.

I am quite new to all this would love to talk to some people and discuss ideas

This is not what you might call "fap material", I have some more "fappy" stories in my mind that I MIGHT write in the future but not yet... NOT yet. At the moment I'm bored and I've decided to write this thing that has been going through my head for a couple of months now. Only 1% of it is based in real facts and I only have parts of it, I'm not even sure if I know how I want it to end, or if it even has an actual ending but well, also english is not my native language so please if you are going to critisize my grammar and stuff like that please be polite about it >_< . Here goes nothing...

I'm leaving for Orlando tomorrow and will have a lot of alone time during the day and was looking for any DL'S ( girls or guys) in the area that have time and just want to meet and hang out . No pressure , Just a meet and greet and see what if anything happens . Send me a message here or e-mail me at mikemia1@yahoo.com

Hey Everyone! Recently I've been interested in buying some plastic pants that would go over my disposable diaper. I know very little about plastic pants and I was wondering if anyone could help me out here with finding the right kind, keep in mind I'm looking for ones that hug my diaper and aren't loose anywhere (I like everything feeling snug and fit) and ones that have a good price range to start with. Thanks