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  1. Chapter One: Megan’s Disgrace I had brown hair that hung down just past my shoulders, green eyes that when they watered, they would melt people’s hearts, and I had a few little pickle-cute spots, as my mom called them, the freckles that appeared just around my nose and went out just a bit on to my cheeks. I was normally a very talkative and active child, and now, at twelve years old, I had so many friends, that it was hard to give them all attention all the time. I don’t even remember how I became popular. But it was November already, and we were all sitting in class, the dreaded Language Arts that was taught by Mr. Hate, himself, Mr. Hastings. “Pop quiz!” he suddenly told us after we were settled into his third hour class. “And I hope you all did your reading for last night. With the recent lack of homework completion in this class, I decided that what you all needed to motivate you, is pop quizzes sprung on you until the end of the semester!” Of course, we all groaned at his decided punishment. Just the same, with the same heavy sigh that all my peers had given, I numbered a clean sheet a paper to twenty five like he had requested, and waited for the first question. Honestly, this was one of the worst, meaning least understanding and spiteful teachers of seventh grade. No one liked him that I knew. “Number one…,” Mr. Hastings was starting to tell us through his walrus thick mustache covered mouth the questions for our twenty-five question pop quiz. I shook my head as I heard the question, and sighed. Yeah, I had not read the assignment that last night. I mean, all the teachers had homework for us, and it felt never-ending. Reading, we could normally just fake because we ended up reading it again in class, especially in Language Arts, and there were real homework assignments to complete, that had attached questions or papers to hand in. I sighed as he was eventually on telling us the question for number three. I was starting to think that this pop quiz might take the whole period. That was not going to be any fun at all. No silent reading time that we could pass notes to each other during or even writing summary questions so we could doodle or zone out as we pretended to write. Okay, I did hate Language Arts, not only because the teacher was a harassing hawk-eyed tyrant, but because I really didn’t enjoy anything to do with reading or with math these days. Simple addition wasn’t so bad, and simple picture books, when I was in elementary school was okay. But since starting middle school last year, everything had been stepped up by the power of ten! I am not by any means a tall person. I think I am on the short side at my school, though there are definitely some much shorter girls around. I looked over to my right, and Stephanie was one example of one of the girls that was shorter than me, with silky raven black hair, brown eyes, and light brown skin. She was one of the nicer girls, maybe a little too nice for her own good. “Eyes on your own paper,” Mr. Hastings called out his usual warning when eyes started to wonder, so I looked back at my paper as we approached number seven on the pop-quiz. I sighed and shook my head. Why did he always assume we were looking at others’ papers just because we grew bored of looking a piece of paper in front of us? I tried to put that thought out of my head as the quiz went on. The hands overhead on the wall was ticking rather slowly, and the questions and time he gave us to answer them was even slower at getting added to the paper. Looking at what answers I had already written to check any work was not worth it to me. You see, I had trouble when it came to seeing too many things on a paper at a time. One trick I had developed in like the fourth or fifth grade, was that I was taught to slip a wide piece of paper over most of the words on a page, so I could focus only on what mattered at the moment, but during our pop quiz, I wasn’t allowed to have my paper helper out, so I had to just try to keep the top part covered with my arm as I wrote. I felt a little tension in my stomach, but I numbered the paper for the next question, number ten. I wanted the pop quiz to be over with, and the clock up on the wall mocked me, it’s hands probably a few minutes behind the questions now, so that maybe the pop quiz was not going to take the whole hour. The tightening in my stomach grew a little more troublesome and I felt an embarrassing tension in my groin, but knew not to raise my hand. This was the worst teacher of all to ask, and even many of the other teachers told us that we needed to learn to control ourselves and to use wise judgment in taking care of ourselves. So I looked back down at the twelfth blank number, waiting to hear the question so I could try to scribble something there. Yes, I called it scribbling, not writing, the same things I always heard when I eaves dropped on anyone that mentioned how I wrote something whether they be teachers, my own mother, or even my friends, sometimes. I definitely had neither good penmanship nor sensible spelling. It was a wonder anyone even understood my writing, but somehow, many of my teachers could guess it enough to help me. I felt a stronger tug at my groin as I started to answer the fourteenth question. The clock on the wall was getting even slower than ever, and I knew that the pop quiz was not even going to take half of the lesson. I wished time would speed up though. I kind of wanted to use the toilet, but after what happened last year in a less tyrant’s class, I was kind of scared to raise my hand and draw attention, not to mention, there was no way he’d say yes while we were in the middle of a test. I started to wonder why I suddenly had to go so much. I mean, yeah, I did skip going to the bathroom between the last two periods, and I often did go then, but I didn’t feel like I had to do anything so I just went to class. Besides, I hated the school bathrooms, so only really went in them when I felt like I really needed to. There were the dingy walls, the dirty toilets, the smell that always made me want to gag, some questionable people in them that I wasn’t sure if they were smoking or doing something else, and of course, there were the occasional bumps into Angela and Barbara. We had never gotten on since probably about the fifth grade, when they found out about my reading problems. I felt my side with my left hand as I started to respond to question fifteen. The clock was slower still, now seeming like we may even have half an hour left of class by the time the quiz was over, maybe even more, at this rate. I sighed and holding my side, proceeded to try to scribble down the answer. I was a bit surprised at the questions that the teacher was asking though. He warned us when we sat down that he hoped we read last night’s assignment, but the questions he was giving us had more to do with what we’d already gone over in class in the last week. I was glad he was orally telling the questions instead of making us read them. I knew from the way the others looked at him, sighed, and groaned, that they hated it when the questions were oral, and so he probably thought this made them harder. He was a tyrant like that, but with him trying to be a tyrant, he was actually accidentally helping people like me. My side felt like it was tightening a little. My groin felt like it was pulling and pushing at the same time. My stomach hurt a little, but I gritted my teeth trying to get through question number seventeen. Only three questions left, and another thirty minutes of class. “Please, don’t do this to me. Please,” I whispered to myself, scared I was going to wet my pants before class was over. I had not done that, since well, I don’t want to remember the last time it happened. It certainly wasn’t in late elementary school, or last year, or this year…. I really had to use the wash room, and I was getting kind of nervous. My legs were starting to bounce and my knees to touch as I squeezed with just my muscles at the moment. I felt my face get a little heated, but I knew that raising my hand to ask was only asking for humiliation. This was a tyrant teacher, and I remember last year, there was a boy in science class, who raised his hand. He was made to sit there and pee himself in front of everyone, the teacher seeming as if she had no idea though he had told her, and had squirmed for over twenty minutes before I saw the spilling pee out of his chair hitting the floor. I’d have died if that were me. Actually, I think he did die, at least, as far as being aware of things when he was around. He didn’t respond to anyone when they said hi to him after that. He always had his head down, and he had to avoid Angela and Barbara and the boy versions of them even more so than anyone else in the school. There was no place he could live his shame down, and I was scared to even be seen near him, afraid someone would call him my boyfriend or something. It’s not easy to be twelve years old, not for anyone, but for someone that was loser enough to get caught pissing their pants, it was a lot worse! Finally, the last question was asked, and I started to fill in the question when I felt my eyes startle and grow two sizes in my head. I felt my muscles tighten harder, and I felt a very light spray that immediately stopped, dampening my underwear. I looked up at the clock, and we still had twenty five minutes to go. How did I get in this mess? I was scared to raise my hand. I couldn’t get caught peeing my pants under any circumstance, and I just knew this tyrant would say “no,” and that would certainly draw everyone’s attention on me. There was no way they wouldn’t know I couldn’t wait if something leaked out if they were watching me. I started banging my knees together as the teacher went to the front after collecting the papers, and then he told us to open our books. By now, he knew not to ask me to read. He had asked me to read in front of the class about a month ago, and after only a few slow starts at mixing up words, not pronouncing words right, and stumbling over everything, he had decided it was best not to pick me for the last month. I probably should have been in a special class, but for one reason or another, no one bothered to care how I read. At that time, I just thought I was stupid when it came to reading and complex math, so I kept as quiet as I could about that shame, only telling my best friends. The clock on the wall seemed to hesitate between each tick, and I could hear it mocking me as each slow tick seemed to echo in my head. It was like the clock face had a sudden mouth, and it was sticking its tongue out, and I could feel it inside me, acting like a little brother, taunting me. “You’re gonna pee your pa...a...ants,” I could just somewhat see and hear the sing songy face of he clock trying to make me lose my self respect, what little I had. I mean, I already couldn’t read right, and I couldn’t keep my numbers straight. Wasn’t that enough shame for a twelve year old without making me piss myself, too? I squeezed really tight as I felt a strong sudden wave trying to seize my body, and the sounds of other readers seemed to fade a bit as I concentrated harder and harder on my muscle. I was NOT going to let even a little more out, no matter how it bothered me, and it sort of gave me a dull ache. I didn’t care. There was no way I’d do that-- willingly. The clock on the wall continued to grin at me as the minute hand vibrated with a click eight minutes until time to get out of class. People had been reading along, and I had not heard the last several people even, let alone, had the concentration to move my wide strip of paper to follow along! I was shaking. I hoped against hope. It was only eight minutes! “Megan!” the teacher sounded a little irritated. “Huh?” I asked a little confused at first why he would be addressing me. “Do you even know where we are?” he asked his voice sounding lower rather an more excited, but I somehow knew that if I said no, I’d be in trouble. I glanced around the room to try to count the number of readers, and then I tried to count the paragraphs. He never called on me in more than a month. Why did he have to decide to do so now? I found a paragraph that might have made sense, and it was fast enough, he didn’t say anything at first, as I started to try to stumble over the first couple of words. “We’ve already read that,” he sounded annoyed. “Sorry,” and I tried the paragraph under that. “You need to see me after class,” he frowned at me making me feel scared, embarrassed, and my pee was still worrying me, and the clock was still laughing at me. I shook in my seat, but he ignored me and went on to the next person after me. The time continued to tick slowly, and before the bell, I felt a little bit of drizzle before I suddenly realized it, and pulled myself out of my worries about what he was going to do to me long enough to get control. Shaking, I put my hand under my desk. No one seemed to notice. I felt the front of my jeans, but I didn’t feel anything by the zipper. No one noticed yet. I lifted a little and slipped my hand under my bottom, wincing, scared of what I’d feel. My legs were white-tight pressed together, my knees nearly hurting from rubbing the ball round bones against one another, and my hand pushed at the fabric under my butt. It was a bit damp, but it wasn’t all over. Maybe no one noticed. Fully aware that another leak would definitely get me noticed, I pulled my hand out from under me, and carefully kept looking at my book, as I wiped my smelly hand on the side of my pants to get the dampness off of it. I started to smell myself instantly. I knew I had leaked, and now, I was starting to worry that I smelled bad enough that everyone else knew it, too. I scooted in my seat, my knees doing tiny bounces off of each other for fear of moving too wide and letting the flood out. The clock mockingly bounced its minute hand, not obviously, but just enough, that through the echo the sound made in my head, I knew it was just making fun of me. My knees rubbed through my jeans, pressing and hurting. My privates pulsed and ached at me to release the water inside. The teacher was staring at the reader. An echoing voice that I didn’t hear the words of was making sounds from trying to read, but I can’t understand the words. A bead of sweat gathered at my brow. My face felt warmer, and then cool, and then warmer again. I could feel myself breathing, and I could almost hear the nervousness of the air escaping my mouth. I hoped, as I looked around, that no one else could tell how scared I was, and how close I was to peeing in my pants!
  2. Chapter I: Switch Responsibilities Rachel and Monica sit on the couch, sipping their coffees. Monica looks frazzled, while Rachel seems unusually calm. Rachel: Monica, I've been doing some thinking. I think it's time for us to take a break. Monica: A break? What are you talking about, Rach? Rachel: I can't handle all your demands and control anymore. I want you to know how it feels to be treated like a baby. Monica rolls her eyes, dismissing Rachel's idea. Monica: Oh, please! You can't possibly... As Monica finishes her sentence, Rachel pushes a pacifier into Monica’s mouth. She then takes Monica’s hand and pulls her to the restroom. Pulling out a diaper-mat and diaper out of her bag, she lays her down on the diaper mat and begins replacing her panties (which turn out to be wet), into diapers. Across town, at Maclearen’s Pub, Robin sits at the bar sipping her drink as her best friend, Lily enters. Robin: You know, Lily, now that the guys are away, I think it's time for you to experience what it's like to be treated like a baby. Lily: What? Are you serious? Like At Central Perk, Robin pushes a pacifier into Lily’s mouth, before Lily could finish her sentence. Robin: You're going to use this. Let's see how it goes. Monica and Rachel’s apartment - Phoebe enters, looks at Rachel and then at Monica and starts laughing. Rachel: What’s so funny? Phoebe: My patient, Robin told me she’s also treating her best friend like a baby this weekend Rachel: Seriously? Do you think you can schedule a playdate? Monica: (being ignored) - No, I don’t want a playdate, I’m a grown-woman! That afternoon, Rachel and Monica enter Central Perk, Monica now wearing a diaper and sucking her thumb. They spot Robin and Lily, seating with Phoebe at a nearby table. Like Monica, Lily is dressed in a diaper, and sucking a pacifier as she seats on Robin’s lap. Phobe: Oh, hey, guys! Look who I found! Rachel: So, Robin, what made you decide to treat Lily like a baby? Robin: Lily, while motherly, she has always been immature, and acts like the baby of the group. She’s also a kindergarten teacher,who always wondered what her students go through. We had agreed awhile back to give her a chance to experience childhood, in order to better connect with her students. Why are you treating Monica like a baby? Rachel: Well, Monica is way too uptight and I just felt she needed to relax a bit. Also, she’s been treating me like a kid for some time, so maybe it’s good payback. As Robin and Rachel talked, Lily suddenly said: “mommy, I’m hungry.” Like a good mother, Robin pulled out a jar of baby food and began feeding Lily. When Monica was hungry she made the mistake of saying: “Rach, I’m hungry”.. Instead of taking a baby bottle, or a jar of food to feed Monica, Rachel had a surprise for her. Rachel laid Monica down on her lap and began to breastfeed her. Not only was Monica in shock, but also were Phoebe, Robin and Lily. Rachel: I believe Monica deserves the full baby treatment. And anyways, she knows she isn’t supposed to call me Rachel. Central Park, Sunday Morning Lily and Monica in their respective strollers, one sucking her pacifier, while the other sucks her thumb. Phoebe: Alright, ladies! It's time for some outdoor fun. We're going to the park! Lily: Can we play in the sandbox, please? Robin: Of course, Lily! Go ahead, have fun! Lily and Monica quickly drop to their hands and knees and crawl into the sandbox, relishing the freedom of being carefree and childlike. Rachel: Look at them go! They're like little kids again. Robin: I have to admit, it's pretty adorable. The friends watch Lily and Monica play, their stress melting away as they embrace the simplicity of the moment. Phoebe: Monica, you look adorable with that thumb in your mouth. Are you enjoying your little baby experience? Monica: Maybe, just a little Phoebe: And you, Lily? Lily: I love being treated like a baby! Lily and Monica, exhausted from their playful adventures, lie down in the shade, using their strollers as makeshift beds. Rachel: Aw, look at them. They're tuckered out. Robin: Yeah, it's been quite the adventure for them today. Random Kid: Something smells stinky, I think those women pooped their pants Robin and Rachel check, and find that while Lily only wet herself, Monica did in fact go number 2. Like a good mother, Rachel cleans and changes Monica, while Phoebe and Robin provide a layer of privacy. Back home, Monica wakes up, only to learn that she had peed and pooped herself while sleeping. Chapter II: Monica has Issues Rachel anxiously sits in the waiting area with Monica on her lap. Monica looks unwell, her thumb still in her mouth. They are surrounded by colorful toys and child-friendly decorations. Rachel: Hang in there, Mon. The pediatrician will see you soon. Monica: I don't feel so good, Rach. I'm glad you're here with me. As the pediatrician calls them into the examination room, Rachel carries Monica and walks in, still keeping her close. The pediatrician, DR. WILSON, a kind and gentle woman, greets Rachel and Monica warmly. Dr. Wilson: Hello there! What seems to be the trouble today? Rachel: My friend, Monica has been feeling unwell lately, experiencing some discomfort. Dr. Wilson: I see. Let's have a look, shall we? Rachel helps Monica sit down on the exam table. Monica continues to suck her thumb, finding comfort in the familiar gesture. Dr. Wilson: Monica, sweetie, can you tell me where it hurts? Monica: My tummy hurts, and I don't feel good. Dr. Wilson examines Monica, checking her temperature and listening to her heartbeat. Dr. Wilson: Well, Monica, it seems like you might have caught a little bug. Nothing too serious, but we'll need to keep an eye on you. Monica: But I cannot move my legs and am having trouble going to the potty. Noticing a decline in Monica’s language with every word, Dr. Wilson explains Monica's condition to Rachel. As the two discuss Monica’s regression, Monica starts squirming uncomfortably. Monica: Mommy, I need potty Rachel: Ok Monica, give me 2 more minutes to finish the conversation with the doctor Monica: I cannot mommy, I go now. Not caring who sees, Monica sits down on a potty chair in the room with her pants still intact. Noticing this, Rachel rushes to Monica’s aid, pulling her pants down just in the nick of time. Rachel: Thank you Dr. Wilson, I’ll make sure we update you on Monica’s status. EXT. PEDIATRICIAN'S OFFICE - DAY Rachel and Monica exit the pediatrician's office, relieved that Monica's discomfort has been addressed. Rachel: See, Mon? We handled that situation like champs! As Monica sucks her thumb, she nods her head in acknowledgement to Rachel’s comment. Chapter III: Going Home As Rachel helps Monica walk home from the doctors office, it’s clear that Monica’s discomfort is once again increasingly evident. Monica: Mommy, I need potty Rachel: Oh no, not again. Can’t you hold it? Monica, sucking her thumb nods her head from side to side. Rachel: Ok, lets see if we can find you a public restroom to use. As Monica begins to cry, Rachel notices a dribble of urine coming down Monica’s leg. Noticing a drug store Rachel drags Monica into it, and locates the diaper aisle. After purchasing the diapers, Rachel takes Monica to the restroom, and removes her soiled cloths with a fresh diaper. To Monica’s horror, Rachel opens the door. Monica (in a moment of relapse): Rachel, I’m only wearing a diaper Rachel (As she turns to hug Monica): it’s either the diaper, or those soiled pair of pants Holding Rachel’s hand, Monica walks out of the bathroom, with nothing but a shirt and a diaper Random Kid: Look mommy, that woman is wearing a diaper. In the shock and overwhelming situation she now faces, Monica takes a step back as she regresses, she begins to cry and suck her thumb once again. In order to get home quickly Rachel drags Monica through the NY subway system, as they get off the subway, a block away from home, Rachel notices Monica’s diaper has been sagging a bit. Rachel: Monica, sweetie, did you have another accident? Monica stares blankly at Rachel as she sucks her thumb. Understanding that Monica has regressed farther, Rachel grabs her hand and walks home; with the understanding that neither of them has any idea what the future holds. Chapter IV: Babysat at Home The next day, Monica wakes up, not remembering what happened. She’s surprised by the fact that her thumb is in her mouth. As Monica removes her thumb from her mouth, she tries to get up, only to stumble and fall. Clearly, her legs are still not working properly… Monica: Rachel, Rachel, come help me I cannot get up. Phoebe: I’m coming Monica, one second Monica: Phoebe?! What are you doing here? Phoebe: Morning, sleepyhead! I'm here to babysit you today since Rachel had to go to work. Isn't it exciting? Monica blinks, still trying to process the situation. Monica: Babysit? But I'm not a baby, Phoebe. Phoebe: Oh, I know that, Mon, but sometimes even adults need a little extra care. Don't worry; I've got everything under control. As Phoebe helps Monica to the living room, she notices a kids potty chair. Monica: Hey, Phebs. What’s the potty chair for? Phoebe (excitedly): Well, I talked to Rachel, and she thought it would be a good idea for you to have a potty chair since we're using diapers. It's a little more grown-up than diapers, right? She Rahcel asked that you ask me whenever you need to go to the bathroom. Monica: But I’m an adult Phoebe: Are you? Really? I mean look at you? Monica didn’t even notice the wet diaper around her waist, or that she instinctively began to suck her thumb again. Mid-day Monica: I need to go potty Phoebe: ok, one second Monica: I need to go potty, now! Phoebe (walking into the living room): Uh Monica, did you go potty already? Monica looking at Phoebe and down at herself began to cry. Without thinking, Phoebe took Monica and began to change her diaper, acting as if this was all natural; and explaining that accidents happen. Seeing that Rachel and Monica were short on diapers, Phoebe got Monica and took her down stairs. Having a hard time dragging the grown adult, Phoebe decided to stop by the local Baby’s R Us and purchase a few things. With each thing on the list Monica tried to make a point she’s not a baby. Phoebe: We need diapers Monica: I’m a big kid! I go potty by myself Phoebe: Monica, you’re wearing a diaper and clearly using it for both peeing and pooping. Lets get some just in case Phoebe: We need a stroller Monica: Why? Me walk Phoebe: You asked for a piggyback ride all the way here Phoebe: and finally Pacifiers Monica shakes her head no as she sucks her thumb. On the way home with the goodies, Monica now sits in a brand new stroller, her thumb in her mouth, and a big teddy bear Phoebe got her, for being a good girl. Not far from home, they met up with Rachel, who Monica was more than happy to see. Rachel and Phoebe decided to grab a cup of coffee at Central Perk and Monica slowly drifted off to sleep in her stroller. Chapter V: Babysat at the Park That “one weekend” of babying between Lily and Robin turned into an ongoing-event. This weekend though, Robin had a late shift at work, and asked Phoebe to watch Lily for a bit. Phoebe: Hey Rachel, it’s Phoebe Rachel: Oh, Hey Phoebe what’s up Phoebe: I’m babysitting Lily today and am planning to take her to the park later. Does Monica want to come? Rachel: I’m not sure, I mean Lily is aware that she’s really an adult, and Monica, well, you know, Monica has regressed beyond her years. Phoebe: Oh come-on it’ll be fun! Rachel: fine! EXT. PARK - DAY Phoebe leads Monica and Lily through the park, enjoying the warm summer weather and the playful atmosphere. The sound of laughter and children playing fills the air. Phoebe: "Here we go, on our summer adventure, Monica and Lily, together forever!" Monica giggles, finding Phoebe's joyful spirit contagious. Lily: Phoebe, you're like the coolest babysitter ever! Phoebe: Well, thank you, little one. I always try my best! As they continue their walk, Robin arrives at the park to pick up Lily, who runs excitedly toward her. Lily: Mommy! Robin: Hey, sweetie! How was your playdate with Monica and Phoebe? Lily: Mommy, can I have my pacifier now? Robin chuckles and reaches into her bag, pulling out the pacifier. Robin: Alright, Lily. Just for a little bit longer, okay? Rember, we promised Marshall that by the time you get home, you’ll act like an adult again. And anyways, we said that you’re a toddler this weekend. Lily happily takes her pacifier, feeling comforted by its presence. INT. MONICA AND RACHEL'S APARTMENT - MONICA'S BEDROOM - Evening Monica, exhausted from the day's activities, lies down for a nap. She instinctively sucks her thumb, finding solace and comfort in the familiar gesture. Phoebe: She had a bit of an accident earlier, Rachel. I think she did a number 2 in her diaper. She seemed embarrassed and started sucking her thumb. I think she was also kind of jealous of Lily. Rachel looks concerned but also understands that accidents happen. Rachel: Poor Mon. Let her rest, Phoebe. I'll take care of her when she wakes up. INT. MONICA AND RACHEL'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - Next Day As Monica is seating on Rachel’s lap, Rachel recalls her conversation with Phoebe from last night. Rachel: Hey Monica Monica nods yes as she stares at a kiddy show infront of her. Rachel: Mon, I've been thinking. Since you've been having accidents in your diaper, maybe it's time we try something different. What if we start repotty training you? Monica: Wha? Rachel: Monica, I know you’re in there, and I need my best friend back! Monica: Mama! Rachel: I know, Mon, but accidents happen, and I believe in your ability to regain control. It's not about treating you like a baby but rather helping you become more aware of your body's signals. And I'll be here to support you every step of the way. Rachel: From now on, whenever you feel the need to go potty, you let me know. We'll work together to help you regain control. It's all about open communication. I promise only Phoebe or I will take you to the potty. Fair? Monica: Yes, mommy. Over the next few days, Monica does remember to say “potty”, but rather than before, it’s usually right when or after she had already gone. Chapter VI: Monica and Rachel accept Monica’s Fate Seating at Central Perk, with Phoebe, Robin and Lily, Rachel was bouncing Monica on her hip. Monica: Mommy, me need to go potty Robin: Rachel, I see that you’re talking to Phoebe, would you like me to take her? Rachel: Sure Monica: Only mommy Rachel: It’s ok Mon, aunt Robin will take good care of you! As Robin walking with Monica towards the restroom, she heard a loud wet fart. Turning around, Rachel saw that Monica had done a number in her pants. Rachel: Monica we talked about this, you said you wanted to be a big girl. Now, this doesn’t look like a big girl, does it? Monica sucked her thumb as she began to cry. Rachel: What should I do? Phoebe: you know my thoughts, if monica wanted to be an adult she’d at least try Robin and Lily: I agree Rachel: Monica do you want to be a big kid or a baby Monica: baby Rachel: do you know what that means Sucking her thumb Monica wobbled hear her in yes motion Understanding Monica’s desires and state of her diaper, Rachel pulled out a diaper mat, no longer caring who sees Monica in this state. Over the next few days, Phoebe and Rachel began to notice increasing regression with Monica. She was no longer the responsible motherly figure of the friends group, but rather nothing more than a diaper wearing baby.
  3. A note from the author: A number of years ago, I worked on a small number of diaper stories that never got posted anywhere (I think), but some of them are finished and it's kind of stupid not to share them. So here's one of them. I hope you enjoy. ===== Some people are lucky enough to have the best possible friends, to whom they can trust all their secrets, no matter how intimate or weird those secrets are. Sam was such a lucky person, though to his misfortune, his best friend already had a boyfriend and had no romantic interest in him whatsoever. Still, Jo cared deeply about him and always while she had no desire to indulge in his fantasies, she always had a listening ear and once in a while she had a suggestion to give. Sam's desires were definitely unconventional. Ever since he could remember, he had a desire to be in diapers and while the specific context in which he would've liked it to happen had changed over the years, the basic desire had not. Once it had been all about domination, at other times humiliation, and sometimes it was all about getting some personal time and de-stressing. And while Sam had always enjoyed his desire, it had never really been a positive in his social life. Well, with the exception of Jo perhaps, because the intimacy created by sharing secrets can really strengthen a friendship. That friendship made Jo offer to organise his birthday one year. Sam agreed with a hesitant "ok". It seemed out of the norm for their group of friends to organize someone else's birthday party. Parties were not really a thing, usually they would just go out for a drink, so Sam had no idea what to expect. Well, a vague idea maybe, because Jo had shared that she would do it at her place. When the day came, it was Jo's boyfriend Charlie who came to pick him up at his house. With the excuse that this meant Sam would not have to drive and thus could drink. That might have been true, but it still felt odd. He decided to shrug off the weirdness. Charlie and Jo were some of his best friends, and if they wanted him to celebrate his birthday this way, then he'd just have to trust them that they were doing this for a good reason. During the drive, Charlie talked about music, but Sam couldn't really follow. While they had a rather similar taste in music, Charlie really cared for the instruments and techniques, while Sam was more of a passive listener, letting the music wash over him. It was hard enough keeping track of what Charlie was saying while his mind kept wondering what was in store for him. A number of cars were parked around their apartment building, but it was impossible to tell how many of them were from guests. Exiting the car made Sam's heart beat louder, ascending the stairs made it beat in his throat. That was stupid. These were his best friends who just wanted to celebrate his birthday, what did he have to be nervous about? At worst this would be a pleasant evening with friends, at best this would be his best birthday party ever. Okay, so the worst case seemed more likely, but that would still be on par with his usual birthdays. There was no need to knock on the door, the door was already opened a crack, though it was dark inside. Unsurprisingly, when he entered the lights flicked on and every jumped up to yell "SURPRISE!" in the most cliché manner. It actually put a grin on his face, cliché or not, it definitely felt good to be on the receiving end of it. Around Charlie and Jo's living room stood a sampling of his friends, though not all of them, and a few people he did not know, who were eyeing him curiously. Jo was the first one to come wish him a happy birthday with a hug that could only accurately be described a lethal strangling that forced all the oxygen from his lungs. If he were not so distracted with trying to breathe, he would have paid more attention to Jo's breasts on his chest. Charlie was of course next, coming from behind and giving him a hug at least as good as his girlfriend's. Minus the breasts. A row of friends followed, first Hannah, then Dex, Ron, Lils, Melanie, and Alim. After all the felicitations from his friends, one of the strangers walked up and Jo introduced her as Mira. "She's going to give you my present," she added after taking a look around the room. Sam could only look at her slightly disturbed because that sounded entirely wrong. Jo just giggled at him, "just eh, bathroom's off limits tonight for you," blushing honestly wasn't strong enough a word for the shade of red that Sam became at those words. Sure, she knew his secret, but to say those words here among people... And then it hit him. "Wait, what?" Jo just nodded, "Yup. Mira will take care of your diapers all night. Well, as soon as she's convinced you actually need one." She had the gall to wink at him. "But," Sam stammered, still red, "I can't... I mean... this is too private and intimate." His eyes darted all around the room to see if anyone had heard what they had said. Or were even paying any attention to him at all. "Your friends won't hate you for doing what you love," Jo whispered into his ear, "but you have to make the leap to make this happen." Sam's face turned warm. Not because of deciding to go through with this, but because he was embarrassed that he didn't actually have to go. He told Jo as much, but she just smiled and grabbed him a beer. He immediately knew he didn't want to be drunk for this, but a few beers wouldn't get him in that state, especially not if he interspersed them with tea or water. After Jo's "present", his other friends walked up together with a box of familiar size in Ron's hands. "Happy birthday, man," he said, "we're pretty sure you'll love this." Sam nodded his agreement before he had even accepted the package, he knew exactly what they had gotten him. When he tore the wrapping paper, the box art of Takenoko was revealed just as expected. That one was hard to have gotten wrong, since it was the only thing his friends would even have known to get him. Still, it was a wonderful gift, if for no other reason than that his friends had been willing to get him a present at all. Sam gave his thanks with a group hug. By the time he needed to actually pee, they were all sitting around the table, playing the game. Not exactly what Jo had planned, but it worked out well enough. They had divided themselves into teams because the game only allowed a small number of players. Sam had forgotten all about his first present, but when he got up and excused himself to the bathroom, Jo got up along with him and said: "Where are you going? Did you forget my present?" Lils had gotten loose enough by now to actually ask "what IS your present, Jo?" Jo only answered with a "you'll see." Lils obviously didn't like the vague answer, but her eyes were now glued to Sam, because she didn't want to risk missing whatever was going on. Sam could only blush as the situation came back crashing down to him. Jo did say the bathroom was off limits to him, but would she really enforce that restriction physically if he went anyway? No, that was not the important question. Was Sam really going to pass up the opportunity to get the perfect birthday present because he was too scared? That was the right question. And the answer clearly had to be "no!" Exclamation mark included. Determined and mortified all at once, Sam didn't move while he tried to let go. He stood there, legs somewhat apart, still locked in that first step toward the bathroom. And then it happened. Forgetting all the people around the room staring at him, he could only feel the warmth in his urethra, which promptly began spreading to his legs. Gasps brought him out of it, though they were quickly muffled. Too late, his bladder was shut tight with embarrassment. His pants were half-soaked anyway. His friends around the table were all staring, Jo's hand covering Lils mouth, probably in response to the gasp. Melanie sat with a little smile on her face, Alim seemed contemplative. The others were not in his immediate field of view. From behind him, the still unfamiliar voice of Mira said: "aww, did the birthday boy have an accident. Come, I'll take care of you." She led him off toward Charlie and Jo's bedroom. Sam didn't look back at his friends, but the second the bedroom door closed behind him a murmuring started in the room they had just left. "Do you need me to ehm... strip?" Sam asked as he observed the preparation in the bedroom. There were two large towels spread over the bed, various washing supplies were stalled on the nightstand, with a pack of adult disposables positioned right next to the stand. It had already been torn open and one was lying on top of the pack. "No," she said almost distractedly, "I'll take care of everything, naughty birthday boy." She began by unbuttoning his pants and then having him step out of them. Together with his wet boxers, they went into a plastic bag. She directed him to sit on the bed with a pat on the towels that were spread there. Using a wet washing cloth, she cleaned first his legs and then his intimate area. She was thorough but mechanical, like she had done this a hundred times before, which she probably had. Sam hadn't given it any thought before, but Mira was likely a nurse just like Jo. That explained why she went through this so efficiently. Before he even knew it, he was powdered and diapered and helped off the bed. And then the second half of his bladder decided to seek its freedom. Mira inhaled sharply. "You're not getting a new diaper right away, mister. That looks like it can take some more..." She hesitated just long enough to show her own doubt, but then continued. "Not a lot, mind you, so you pee the first sign you need to and we'll put you in a fresh one." Sam wanted to protest loudly that she couldn't possibly send him back out there among his friends in a wet diaper, but he wasn't sure she would play along. But then he noticed that something obvious was missing. "Wait, don't I get some new pants?" He asked. "Oh, sorry, but you shouldn't have ruined your only pair," she said mockingly, with a real sting too, "besides, I need to keep an eye on how much you need a change." She opened the door the the living room back up and gave him a pat on his bottom to get him moving. Over half a dozen stares at his wet diapered crotch made Sam freeze in his tracks. His face burned with embarrassment and his heart felt like that of a shy little boy who had been either naughty or too shy to tell his babysitter that he needed to go to the bathroom. Silence hung in the room for a good while, apparently nobody comfortable to speak. That was until Ron spoke up, "Sam, you're fucking weird, but I want to finish this game because it's awesome, so come on let's play." And then, over the others' affirmations: "besides, your choice of underwear is none of my business." Jo was hugging Sam before he took more than a few steps. He had not even seen her approach, but she was there nevertheless. "Well done, well done," she said in his ear, followed by a kiss on his cheek. "And again a happy birthday." She had the broadest smile he had ever seen on her. Sitting back down at the table was rather awkward, the squishiness between his legs became a squishiness beneath his bottom and made an audible sound. Lils did her best not to laugh, but her face said more than enough. And she might be laughing now, but in the game she was losing horribly. Well, as much as you could be losing in Takenoko. And then it was obvious how to get back at her. "Shall we make this game more interesting?" Sam asked, "the losing team has to put on diapers as well." Lils glowered at him, but some of his friends immediately agreed. Those were Melanie, Hannah, and surprisingly Charlie. Dex and Alim were more hesitant, but agreed "just for once". Ron and Lils wouldn't budge at first. Applied groupspressure made them give in anyway, with the argument that it was in fact Sam's birthday. Ron still didn't look like he was going to let it happen, but he also clearly planned to make sure it never got that far. He was already eyeing his cards and strategizing. The game went on, a new beer in Sam's hand while Jo and Charlie made their turn. Sam's bladder filled up again quickly and he just let it run through him and into his diaper. All thanks to the alcohol, he thought, because at home he had a tough time going while sitting. Remembering that Mira had told him to ask for a change first thing after using his diaper, he tried to be as casual as he could about calling her, which was not very. "Uhm, Mira?" She didn't exactly sigh, but Sam could tell she was a bit annoyed by how fast he needed another change. "Okay, come on birthday boy," she said, loud enough so that everyone was well aware what was going down. He was pretty sure they were all staring after him, but he didn't have the guts to look back. This situation was entirely too awkward, but deep down he was loving it. Having someone take care of him was one of the best feelings in the world to Sam. In the room Mira was even more swift about changing his diaper, if that was even possible. It left Sam without any time to actually enjoy the experience and he was back to the living room so quickly that it left him feeling empty and disappointed. At least one of his friends shouted: "your turn, Sam." They were all visibly trying to act normal. Sitting down was less squishy than before and ironically slightly less comfortable. They were getting close to the end of the game. Ron and Lils had made up their earlier lack of points and had enough cards and bamboo bits to probably finish the game when their turn came around. That left just Charlie and Dex' turn, Jo had gracefully offered to step aside to play hostess, and after that came Alim and him, and then it would all be about who could scavenge enough points not to be the losing team. There was little Charlie and Dex could do for points, but their score was looking good, so they drew some cards for options. Sam let Alim do his turn for him, because he was pretty sure he had missed the last one and had no idea what their current strategy was going to be. Their points did look decent, they were quite a bit ahead of Melanie and Hannah, and just ahead of Charlie and Dex. Things looked good. Of course, as expected Ron and Lils ended the game, adding a glorious ten points to their score. Unexpectedly, both other teams managed to scrounge up a surprising amount of points and blocking Sam and Alim in the process. There was just nothing they could do. Alim PALED. White as a sheet, which was saying something. He had never expected to lose. He never lost and he certainly hadn't expected it with the birthday boy in his team. He had only agreed because he never expected it would be him. Lils came back with a vengeance. "So, the losing team has to wear diapers, but one of them already is! He shouldn't get to avoid the embarrassment just because he wet his pants." She was rubbing it in, but not out of malice. She was just relieved that she had escaped, and now she wanted to tease Sam about it. It was Melanie who took it seriously, with a naughty twinkle in her eye. "We could double diaper him," she said. Lils suddenly wasn't smiling anymore, but Jo was staring so intently at Melanie that no-one noticed. It was like Jo had never really seen Melanie before. "Wouldn't that second diaper be useless," she reasoned. "Yes. Unless we prick holes in the outside of the other one," she came up with on the fly, "it would all soak through then." "You know what," Sam dared suddenly, though he regretted his words even as they poured out, "I'll take Alim's diaper on top of it." That was quite enough to make everybody stare at Sam and he could only blush furiously. Triple diapered in front of his friends. Stupidest challenge he had ever made, but he couldn't go back now. Melanie still had that twinkle in her eye. "That would be a bit much," she said, "but we can still give you Alim's diaper. We'll just double diaper you twice." It didn't seem like anyone dared to say anything, until suddenly Jo pushed Mira forward. The latter sighed deeply, but nevertheless went "well, come on then, that second diaper isn't going to put itself on you." It didn't seem really necessary to go back to Jo and Charlie's room, since little Sam wouldn't be on display this time. Still, that is where Sam found himself, though this time he and Mira were not alone. Melanie was there, right behind him and then pushing him onto the bed. Before Sam had figured out what was going on, she had pulled something sharp and was pricking holes in the plastic layer of his diaper. When she was done, she looked at Mira and gestured at Sam's crotch. It took some tightening and shaping of the diaper he was already wearing, but they managed to fit it on snugly. After Melanie helped him up, she asked "think you could try it out?" A second after that her cheeks colored red, as if she had only then learned shame. Sam felt too embarrassed to go, he thought, but just looking at her he was all of a sudden aware he was letting go. And it was a lot. He didn't remember drinking that much since last time, yet it all came out. He wasn't soaked, of course, not with two diapers there to take it all in. "Good boy," Melanie whispered, still red as a beet. Mira had already mosied on out, but that didn't really matter. Sam had no idea how to proceed right then and there. Here was this girl clearly getting off on the idea of him wearing diapers and he was too insecure to actually go for it. After a few moments of silence, Melanie suggested they should go show the others and Sam didn't really have the guts to protest it. In the living room, Hannah and Dex were sitting on the couch playing some fighting game on the playstation. The rest was lounging around the kitchen island and were curious enough to take a look at Sam's double diapers. A few eyebrows were raised at the state it was in. Afterall, if Melanie had been able to tell he had wet, it had to be showing on the outside. Sam didn't dare to look himself. "You really look baby Sammie now," Lils taunted, "I'm surprised you don't have a pacifier in your mouth." Melanie bumped into Sam's back trying to step forward to defend him, but he stopped her just by stretching his arm. Instead, he stood up for himself. Which was as surprising to Sam as it was to the others, under the circumstances. "Are you teasing me because you're jealous, Lils? I mean, we can still put you in a diaper if you want." "Pff, I didn't lose, birthday boy!" She tried to sound nonchalant, but her voice betrayed her nevertheless. "Oh," Sam smiled, "but if the birthday boy allows it, I'm sure someone here would be willing to put one on you." The thought didn't occur to Sam right then and there, but it should have been obvious that Melanie was nodding right behind him. Lils paled a little. "Ok ok, I'm sorry." Sam couldn't help but still smile. "That's ok, Lils, you can tease me if you want." Right then, Jo dumped a plate of hot snack in between those standing around the kitchen isle, followed by two pizza's. "Get it while it's hot," she chimed cheerfully. And so the night progressed some more, with people standing around talking. Noticeably trying to avoid talking about Sam's diapers at times. Lils slapped his butt a few times though. Until someone finally had the nerve to ask why Sam liked to wear diapers. He answered the only way he knew how to, by asking Ron why he liked to kiss girls. They thought that was a false simile, of course, but it was easy enough to explain that it wasn't. You can't really discuss taste. Sam's bladder had quite thoroughly managed to empty itself before, so even after over an hour of hanging around and talking to his friends, he still didn't need to pee again. But there was another feeling starting to make itself know. Slowly, subtly, but it was growing and when he became aware, his heart shot into his throat. Nevertheless, he had no choice, he had to take Jo aside to tell her. When they stood far enough way from the others not to be overheard, she tried to pre-empt him by saying "you're welcome." Sam must've still looked nervous though, because a second later she rephrased with "what is it?" in a more concerned voice. "I uh... I need to use your bathroom," he said. She looked slightly confused. "You're wearing your bathroom, sweetie," she reassured him. A wave of annoyance crashed through Sam, but he pushed it out of the way. It wouldn't help. "No, I mean, I need to... you know... number two." Her face made an 'oh' but still she said: "you're still wearing your bathroom." Sam shook his head. "Jo, no, not here, not in front of everyone. I usually don't even like doing that." "Well, then this will be very embarrassing to you, but the bathroom is off limits to you tonight. That's what your present is, remember?" Jo didn't sound entirely convinced, but Sam had once told her that he sometimes liked being forced. He was pretty sure if he pushed she would budge on this, but maybe he just had to go with it. His nerves and the alcohol in his system decided for him. Normally he could hold for a long time, but his nerves added pressure and the alcohol made him a little looser and well, it wouldn't wait any longer. He was going to go right there and then, but seeing his friends still standing there, he fled. He fled into Jo and Charlie's room just on time before it practically ran out of him. It was a very squishy and sticky mess, and he could feel it sticking to his bottom even without having sat down. Mira and Jo walked into the room a few moments later, closing the door. Mira didn't wait a second to raise her voice. "You said I had to change wet diapers, Jo, you didn't say anything about him shitting himself like a little kid." "I'm sorry, but you can't just leave him in a mess!" Jo retorted. "Look I'm taking off, if you think he needs his diaper changed, you change it." She stormed out and slammed the door. In a second all their friends were there in the door opening. "Uh, everything ok?" "Looks like little Sammie made a stinky," Lils flapped out, heading off any remarks about the smell. "Are you sure he doesn't need some corner time?" She added after a few moments of silence. It didn't actually sound like a tease, it actually sounded genuine, as if she really wanted to play into his fetish. No-one reacted to that. Jo sighed. "I guess I'll clean you up, Sam, if that is what you want." Before he could think it over, Melanie interrupted. "No, I'll do it." For the second time that night she became the center of attention. She didn't seem to care about that one bit, her eyes were glued to Sam himself. "I'm... fine with that." What else could he say. She clearly had an interest, so he'd be an idiot if he didn't take this chance as it as presented to him. "Could we have some privacy?" She suggested at the others who were still staring as she stepped forward into the room. There weren't any spoken confirmations, but some cheeks colored red and everybody headed back to where they had come from. Jo closed the door behind her. Melanie counted to five after the door was closed and then said: "so, should I put you in the corner first?" "Eh, why?" Sam asked. Not that he would really object. If she told him to do something, he would likely do it. It was so easy to just do as he was told. "Because you've been a naughty boy, of course. Look at you, you're wearing double diapers and you've thoroughly used them. You've made quite a mess and you won't even clean it up yourself." Sam's cheeks burned. That was entirely too perfect and despite this being his desire, it still felt embarrassing. Normal people did not wear diapers and they did not mess themselves. "Or maybe I should spank you. Spread that mess all over your bottom," she taunted. "It already is," he swallowed. She giggled. "Well then, maybe we should just get you cleaned up. Lie down," that last bit she said as she gestured at the bed. Opening up his diapers were as messy as they felt. It was spread all over the place and Melanie even waved her hand in front of her nose at the smell. That didn't help of course, not with this. It took a lot of wet wipes to clean him up, yet she did it quite expertly. She wiped top to bottom and she wasn't afraid to grab on to anything to get a smooth surface to wipe. It didn't take any time at all for Sam to get turned on, but Melanie just ignored that. Normally, he would have taken a shower afterward, however, that was not option here. Done with cleaning him up, Melanie shoved the dirty diaper aside and grabbed two new ones while Sam had his bottom raised off the bed. Placing both under his bottom. She did up one first, then proceeded to give it the same treatment as the previous inner diaper he had worn and then taped up the other one. She was not as expert at doing it as Mira, but she still did a fantastic job. "There you go," she said, "all freshened up." "Thank you," Sam returned, "that was wonderful. Really thank you." Melanie blushed a little and seemed to have trouble with what to say next. "Do you, uhm... I mean, would you... would you think it's disgusting if I wanted wear those dirty diapers?" She asked rather quietly. Yes, he would. Could he say that, given what she had just done for him? "I... uhm... yes, actually, to be honest." "I do too," she said, "but I still want to try it." Sam was quiet for a while. "It's only fair," he said after. "But, I'm not taking it back off you immediately if you change your mind. You're stuck with it until you can convince me or someone else to take it off you. Deal?" Now it was Melanie's turn to look... well, Sam couldn't really be sure what face she was making. There seemed to be entirely too many emotions at play at the same time. "Deal," she swallowed. She began removing her pants, but Sam pushed her hands aside and began doing it for her. That only seemed fair as well, and she didn't protest. She was wearing cute blue striped panties beneath her jeans. Sam pulled them down gently, careful not to accidentally poke her vulva. She was clearly as turned on as he was, but he was supposed to put her in diapers and not have sex with her. And quite frankly, someone to play diapers with didn't come around as often as sex did. So he threw her jeans and her panties at the pillow end of the bed and gestured for her to lie down where he had lain. She pulled up her shirt a little and then raised her legs and bottom nimbly off the bed. Much more elegantly than Sam, at least. Sam carefully tugged at the heavy double diapers lying a bit further on the bed, careful not to accidently make it tumble, because that would make a mess he really didn't want to clean up. He didn't bother with all the wetwipes that were now added contents of the diaper, he really didn't want to play around in there. When he had positioned the diaper under her, Melanie slowly lowered her bottom, giving Sam a little time to make some adjustments on the positioning. As she finally touched the diaper she said: "this was a mistake." "Too late," Sam whispered. He took the front of both diapers and raised them both at once, causing Melanie's eyes to almost pop out of her head. He taped it all shut carefully but well and then grabbed Melanie's jeans. "You should wear these to make sure everything holds. Used diapers could come loose." She nodded her consent. She had to actually stand up to get her jeans on. Her diapers were also very clearly visible and stuck out the top of them. She didn't seem to mind, because at Sam's last tug on the jeans, she practically rammed her tongue down his throat. "Thank you. Sort of," she smiled at him, "you should try this sometime." She stuck her tongue out at him, then pushed him onto the bed and crawled on top. "You're mine now, you know that right?" "I'm yours?" He tried to be aloof. "How about you are mine?" "That's fine too." ----- A while later, a long while later, a voice came from the direction of the door: "darling, there are two people in diapers making out on our bed..."
  4. This is a sequel to A Thanksgiving Special, available wherever the best diaper stories are found (like here) and to A Christmas Special (here). Read those first or dive on in! _______________________ Basic party etiquette is if there’s a line for the guest bathroom, you wait. You do NOT go upstairs to use the host’s bathroom. But what if you can’t wait? These are your thoughts as you stand in the upstairs bathroom, unsure of what to do and with your partner not answering your texts. She probably can’t hear her phone above the music and your friends and acquaintances ringing in the New Year, still four hours away. You jump when there’s a knock on the door. “Um, occupied,” you say back. “I know,” says the host, a slight edge in her voice reminding you that you’ve invaded her private space. “Is everything okay,” she asks because you’ve been in there a while. The upstairs bathroom is right at the top of the stairs. She must’ve seen you go in, and there’s a chance others are noticing this exchange. “Y-yes … Could you …” You hesitate, embarrassed already and reluctant to add to your embarrassment by being a grown adult asking for someone to go get your partner because you need help in the bathroom. But you don’t have a choice and ask. The emotional stress is becoming physical as you hear your host’s high heels tapping against the hardwood as she descends the stairs. It’s a long five-minute wait, or maybe not even one minute, until you hear two sets of heels returning before a knock on the door. Your partner’s voice has never sounded so good to you. “Are you okay,” she asks. She doesn’t need to ask who’s inside; no one else at the party would need her help in the bathroom. “Yes,” you answer with your voice quivering. You’re not the crying type, or at least you weren’t until recently; you’ve been trying so hard to convince yourself your newfound tendency to get teary is coinciding with your return to diapers on only by coincidence. Outside the bathroom, your partner is asking your host to go and get her bag from the guest room. You hear her saying she should be able to pick it out among all the others because it will be the biggest, and she asks as casually as she can, but with sharpness communicating it’s a minor emergency, if the two of you can use the master bathroom. You hear heels retreating again, and your partner whispers through the door, “Unlock the door, sweetie.” You do and she opens it just enough to peek her head around the corner. “C’mon, let’s go.” “I can’t,” you say with a mix of plaintiveness and frustration. “We’re just going down the hall to Jen’s bedroom. Quick.” She reaches out her hand for yours, and you let her lead you down the hall. It’s unfortunate the upstairs bath is at the top of the stairs leading up from the kitchen, where people tend to gather as they often do at parties. You do your best not to notice whether anyone below is watching as your partner leads across the landing before the two of you disappear from the party’s sight. “I’m sorry,” you say to your partner. “Hold on,” she says, “Almost there.” When the door closes behind you, you can’t hold it in anymore and start to cry hard while apologizing over and over. “I’m sorry,” you tell her, and you need her to know you’re sorry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” “Shhh,” she says while pressing your face to her shoulder, giving you a warm, dark place to let your tears free. “You don’t need to be sorry.” “I’m sorry.” “Shhh,” she says and rubs small circles on your back, “don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for this. It’s not your fault.” You feel her hand surreptitiously slide down past your waist to pat your bottom. “It’s not your fault.” That’s how Jen finds the two of you, your partnering trying to calm you down while you sob into her shirt and tell her, “I tried. I really tried!” “Shhh. I know you did. It’s okay. There, there.” She notices Jen, who quickly closes the door behind her, and continues patting your back. “This is why we talked about it being okay to stop trying. It just makes you so upset, honey.” “Is everything okay,” Jen mouths to your partner. You feel her nod in response, and ow cognizant you’re not alone together, you pick your head up and do your best to dry up your tears, sniffling hard and wiping at your eyes with your palms. “I’m sorry,” your partner says to Jen. “Thanks so much. We’ll be as quick as we can.” Rather than handing her the bag, she approaches and asks, “Need a hand?” You can’t believe your ears, which turn an impossibly deep shade of red as your partner declines, explaining, “Thanks, but you don’t want to do that. It’s a big change, if you know what I mean.” “I don’t mind.” You don’t even want to be there, making it unfathomable to you why Jen would even offer, let alone why she didn’t take the out your partner had politely offered her. Indeed, having implied what kind of accident you had, your partner was more polite to Jen than to your feelings. Not that it upsets you very much, aware as you are of the scent beginning to make itself known, taking away any chance to hide the nature of what you did in your diaper. No use getting upset over a moot point. “We’ll just be in each other’s way in the bathroom.” “It’s a big bathroom.” “But really?” your partner asks. “How long have the three of us been friends? Let me help. Call it being a good host,” she chuckles. “An exceptionally good host,” she adds. Your partner takes a deep breath she lets out in a sigh, and while you stand there anxiously unable to stop it, she accepts. You want to protest, to say no, to say this is private, to thank Jen and show her out of her own bedroom. But you know you don’t get a say. If you’d had a say on Thanksgiving, you’d still be wearing underpants … and you’d be facing a much larger and more embarrassing problem. Everything having to do with your diapers since Thanksgiving has only reinforced that you don’t get a say when it comes to your diapers. The point was driven home the day before when your partner sat you down to tell you she’d informed your friends of your problem and how you were handling it, again explaining it was better this way, not having to hide it or risk being discovered and sure that your friends would all embrace you and be understanding, would probably never even mention it. She’d been right about that with her family and with yours, but the frustration with your condition and the sense of powerless over it now had been building for longer than just the past month, and it came out then as you raised your voice and told her she had no right to do that. She spoke firmly without raising her voice in turn. “I have every right because you wouldn’t be handling it at all if I didn’t take charge,” she said pointedly, all the more embarrassing because you knew it was true. “And you do not raise your voice.” Like she didn’t ask when she put you in diapers or when she told her family, your family, and all your friends, she didn’t ask when she put you in a timeout to calm down. She was already calm; it was you who needed a moment to collect yourself and make peace with what was about to happen. After your spanking and the jig you danced coming off her lap with a red, stinging bottom, she let you cry on her shoulder as she alternated between rubbing and patting your butt. You received a loving lecture about raising your voice and how you must accept that you do need help and will receive it whether you want it or not. “You’re leaking right now,” she said, and you looked down at yourself to see she was right – you were dribbling on her jeans. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m trying to take the embarrassment away. You need help, and I’m going to give it you. Understand?” You do, which is why you don’t fuss when your partner takes your hand again and leads you into the bathroom with Jen in toe. “I’m sorry we need your bathroom for this. Just seems much better than using the hall one where others could see me disappearing behind the door and two of us coming out,” your partner explains. It’s comforting to know she really is concerned with your feelings and wants to spare you embarrassment, or at least all the embarrassment she can, and you remember the New Year’s Resolution the two of you had talked about that morning during your after-breakfast change, that you will try your hardest to trust her to help you with your problem. “I get it,” Jen says with a wink, though who it’s directed to isn’t clear. It’s somehow less embarrassing for you to stay silent and let everything happen to you, so you do while the two of them chat like nothing is out of the ordinary as you walk into her bathroom. “Could you get everything out while I get them undressed? Lift your foot for me.” You do and she takes off your shoe, followed by the other, narrating as she goes. “Learned the hard way it’s best just take pants all the way off for big changes, didn’t we hun?” “True no matter their age,” Jen says as she unfolds the very large changing mat your partner found on Etsy. Too big good for a shopping trip, but ideal for making sure makeshift changings rooms are left as clean as you find them on longer outings when you don’t have to to carry the diaper bag everywhere. You step out of your pants and cringe a little while your partner examines the inside to be sure they’re clean. “Turn around for me, honey.” You do, and she puts her hand on your bottom, patting it once and seeming to lift it for a moment before letting droop again, sizing up the task ahead of her. “Open your legs a little, sweetie,” Jen says from down on the floor. You do, preferring to think on the you’ve become ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey,’ and ‘sweetheart’ to so many in the past five weeks, in addition to ‘sport,’ ‘tiger,’ and ‘kiddo,’ rather than the sight you’re presenting or whom you’re presenting it to. “The onesie got a little,” Jen says, pointing to where your onesie disappears between your thighs. “Are you feeling okay,” your partner asks you. “Something not agree with your tummy?” You shake your head. Your tummy felt fine now. And you didn’t feel sick before. Just an urgent need followed by a minor pain as you tried the knob on the guest bathroom only to find it occupied. You’re not supposed to take your diaper off yourself, but you imagined your partner somehow wouldn’t mind under the circumstances and quick stepped toward the stairs, hoping no one noticed. You must’ve been discreet because your partner keeps such an attentive eye on you, but she didn’t see you duck around Jeremy as you sped through the kitchen and up the stairs. Only Jen noticed where you’d disappeared to, and you were grateful she had, if only because your partner didn’t respond to your text after you’d closed the door and finished what had begun happening in your pants as you awkwardly climbed the steps. “Ready,” Jen says. “Wait – are you sure you’re done?” A humiliating question, but you and your partner had learned that lesson the second week of you being back in diapers. “Trust me,” your partner gently scoffs as she reaches around to pat your bottom again, “definitely done. There’s a wet bag in there.” Jen turns back to the diaper bag while your partner takes her heels off and sets them aside next to Jen’s. She unbuttons your shirt, and Jen takes it from her to hang on the back of the door after making sure your shirttail was spared. You can’t help but note the disparity between two women dressed in their best and you naked except for your socks and a well-used diaper. Your partner kneels down to unsnap your onesie. “And gloves,” she adds as she stops herself, remembering your diaper wasn’t quit enough this time. “O! Here,” Jen says and hands her a pair. Mind if I …” “Help yourself, and actually, in the little pocket on the outside are some hair ties.” Jen gets out a second pair of gloves for herself, but only one hair ties that she hands to your partner. Jen’s happy to help, but she’s not going to put herself in a position, literally, in which she’d need to tie her hair back. Your partner takes the rubber band and puts her hair into a ponytail, and you feel a pang of regret, though not for what you’d done; you are already getting over that, because your partner is right and you can’t help it. No, your regret is for how hard your partner worked on her hair for the party. “Sorry,” you say. “I told you, sweetie, nothing to be sorry for.” “For your hair. You did such a nice job on it. Sorry about … It looked really good … You still look great tonight.” She smiles as though remembering in that instant why she loves you, which is why helping you with a loaded diaper isn’t a yucky chore but something she doesn’t mind and even does lovingly. She kisses you, and you awkwardly stand there as she kneels down again. “Turn for me,” she says and holds out a hand toward Jen for a wipe. You do, looking straight ahead as the less of awkward option than looking down at Jen. Your partner uses the wipe to get the hem of your onesie as clean as she can before turning you back around. She unsnaps it and wipes it a little more before saying, “Arms up.” She carefully rolls your onesie up as she stands, covering the dirty part with the clean part to be sure nothing else gets dirty as she takes it off you. Jen holds out her hand to take the onesie to put in the wet bag. After a moment’s assessment of the state of your diaper, your partner says, “Better if we take your plastic panties off with you laying down.” She kneels down again, and you carefully ease yourself onto the changing mat. “Careful,” Jen says anyway, though not sharply. A reminder, not a scolding. “We’ve come this far without a blowout. Don’t wanna fumble on the 1-yard line,” she chuckles. It’s a funny analogy, and you chuckle too despite everything. “Okay,” your partner says as she scoots closer to you. “Sorry you’re gonna see this, Jen.” “Hush. It’s not my first messy diaper change.” Your partner unsnaps your plastic panties, and you lift your hips to let her slide them out. “Just hold the bag open,” she says to Jen and drops them into the bag. Next comes the worst part, and you put your arms across your face as the tapes are torn and that feeling of humiliation returns. Jen leans down and places a kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay,” she promises you. If your eyes were open, you would see that neither of them changes their expression when your partner opens your diaper. It doesn’t bother them in the slightest, something that surprised your partner the very first few times she helped you clean up a messy accident, and she chalked up her unexpected fortitude to her feelings for you. Among those feelings was never pity, just an understanding sympathy. She’s never put it quite in these words, but to her, you are not a person to be pitied but to be loved, admired for your inner strength and perseverance and bravery because you don’t let your problem control your life, and to be cherished because you make her happier than anyone else ever has, the way she does for you. You hear her hum a tune she sometimes hums and that sounds much like one your mother sang you to sleep with many years ago. And you feel her wipe, and you respond to her hands as she gestures with a tap to open your legs to clean inside your thighs. “Okay,” she says, “Up we go.” You raise your ankles, and she helps you hold them up in her left hand while she cleans with her right. “I got that,” Jen says and takes hold of your ankles. “Thanks.” Bored, Jen keeps holding your ankles with one hand and gets a clean diaper out of the bag with the other. “These are so stinkin’ adorable. I can’t believe they make pampers for adults.” “They don’t. It just looks like an actual pampers. Isn’t it cute?” “I love this little lion. Where did you find these?” “Japan. Had to bend over backwards and ask a coworker there for a huge favor to get them, but I wanted these. We’re doing our best to be lighthearted about this, aren’t we,” she asks you rhetorically. “And you really are so sweet and adorable in them.” You blush from the compliment and know that it’s objectively true. ‘Cute,’ ‘sweet,’ and ‘adorable,’ more words almost never used to describe you until your partner put you back into diapers, and you don’t hate it even if you’ll never admit it. After another minute, your partner sighs, and Jen asks, “Everything okay?” “Yeah … just … this is just gonna take a while.” “Needs a bath?” “Can we,” your partner asks with apologetic eagerness. “I really wouldn’t ask, but …” “No no no, not a problem. Totally okay.” “Thanks. Just let me get a little more. A little higher.” Jen tilts your legs back a little further, raising your lower back off the changing pad, and your partner slides the dirty diaper out from under you, using a few more wipes to clean you up before moving the diaper out of the way. “Okay, down.” You lower your legs while your partner rolls the small pile of dirty wipes inside the diaper, sealing it tightly with its own tapes. She moves to put it into the wet bag, and Jen stops her. “I’ll take that to the trash.” “Really?” “Unless you need my help with the bath.” “No, but we can take it home.” “Don’t be silly. I’ll take it straight to the outside trash.” “Thanks. What do you say?” “Thank you,” you say, and you mean it. You didn’t need to be reminded to say it, but you don’t mind. “Really, thank you.” “Big time,” your partner adds. “You’re a great friend.” “Anytime. See you two back downstairs in a bit.” “Thanks,” you say. “but I don’t really wanna go back downstairs.” “You can come back down,” your partner says. “No one will tease you or even look at you funny. I promise. You don’t have to, but you can.” “And if anyone does give you a funny look, I’ll shove them right out the door,” Jen adds. She really is a good friend. “But that won’t happen. Everyone understands. None of our friends are those kind of people.” And she’s right, or none of you would be friends with them. Still, since your partner told everyone about your problem and the solution, they must have surmised by now why the three of you have disappeared for so long, and you’re embarrassed about it whether anyone says anything to you or not. You’d rather just go home. “I know, and thank you, really, but I think I’ll just get a Lyft.” “Wanna go home,” your partner asks. Jen is still kneeling above you. “Yeah,” you tell her. “Sorry.” “It’s okay. And you don’t need to call a Lyft. We’ll go together.” “I don’t want you to miss the party. It’s only nine o’clock.” “That’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m not gonna let you ring in the New Year alone,” your partner says. “You can stay up here if you want. I don’t mind.” “We can’t impose any more than we have,” your partner says with an apologetic scoff. “O, stop it.” “Well,” your partner asks you, “you wanna stay up here? You can come back down later if you feel up to it, or just hang out up here.” “Yeah, okay,” you agree. That’s a good compromise. You rather would just go home, but you don’t want her to miss the party, nor do you want her to start the New Year alone any more than you do yourself. “Thank you.” “You’ve said that enough. Let’s just assume it,” Jen says sunnily. “Need a change of pants,” she asks, addressing the question to your partner. “We never go anywhere without a spare,” your partner tells her. If your onesie was a little dirty, your pants must be too even if it wasn’t so easy to see. “And some jammies just in case.” Just in case of what, Jen wonders but doesn’t ask. No matter. No answer will make her think differently of you. “I’ll leave the remote on the bed. You can rent anything you want. I’ll bring you a snack and something to drink.” “You don’t have to do that,” your partner responds. “I’m the host,” Jen says and stands up, smoothing out her dress and reaching over to turn the tap on. “Here,” she adds and holds out a hand. Your partner hands her the dirty diaper you made, and Jen is surprised by its weight but doesn’t say anything. You try to put the thought of her carrying that thing through the kitchen where anyone, and probably more than a few someones, can see it out of your head. “See you in a bit,” your partner says. Jen leaves, and your partner helps you sit up and step into tub. She turns off the tap with just a few inches of warm water in the tub. “Lean against the back like at home,” she says even though you know the routine, a seemingly once-a-week affair since going back to diapers as once a week, give or take, you’ve needed a change wipes alone were not enough for. She stands, takes off her gloves and puts them in a ziploc bag. You watch as she takes off her little black dress and hangs it next to your shirt on the back of the door before rolling down her stockings and doing the same with them. In just her satin bra and panty set, she turns her attention back to you. When you’re clean and the water has been changed twice, she fills the tub almost to the top and tells you to lean back and relax while she runs a bar of soap from your neck to the soles of your feet once more. She chuckles. “What,” you ask. “You’re going into your jammies after we get a clean diaper on you. No way are you coming back downstairs, are you?” You frown and look down. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I just know when you look sleepy.” “Sorry I spoiled the evening.” She stops washing you and takes her chin in her hand to turn your face to hers. “Hey, you did not spoil the evening because the evening isn’t spoiled. We’re together, aren’t we?” “Yeah.” “Then I’m having a great time. Believe me?” You do, and you nod hurriedly as your eyes fill with tears again. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say as you let out a sob. “Don’t. Be. Sorry,” she says with her gentle firmness. “Not for crying. Not for your accidents. Not for needing diapers. Not for needing my help. Not because of the party. Don’t be sorry for any of it.” “Okay,” you say as the swell of emotion rises in your throat that do your best to choke back down as you try to let her words and kindness soothe you. She kisses you on your temple, wets a clean washcloth, and dabs at the few tears that escaped your eyes. “I love you,” she says and means it in every way. “I love you so much too.” “I know.” She reaches over and opens the drain. When you’re diapered and in your jammies, she sends you into the bedroom while she gets everything packed away and puts her dress and shoes back on. “Where are your stockings,” you ask when she joins you. “In the bag with your shirt and shoes. Maybe someone will notice and think you seduced me and that we’ve been up her getting’ busy this whole time.” You have a good laugh with her. “Are you okay with me going back downstairs?” “Yeah, really.” “Need anything,” she asks, nodding toward the plate of hors d’oeuvre and desserts Jen left on her nightstand for you next to a glass of water and your favorite cocktail. “No, thank you.” “Blanket,” she asks and starts to unfold the throw Jen keeps at the foot of her bed. “I can do it myself.” She smiles, chagrinned. “I know.” She turns back to you and kisses you on the forehead again. “I’ll be up to check on you.” “You don’t need to.” She makes a tight smile, an expression she often wears when you tell her something isn’t necessary right before she repeats herself in a gentle yes-but-we’re-doing-it-anyway tone. “I’ll be up to check on you. Text me if you need anything.” “‘Kay.” “And I’ll be back before the ball drops. You owe me a New Year’s kiss.” “Wake me up if I’m asleep. I don’t wanna miss it.” “Deal.” She kisses you on your forehead again. You’re asleep every time she, once with Jen, comes up to check on you. True to her word like she always is, she wakes you to share the perfect New Year’s kiss. Happy New Year and don’t forget to check out my 2022 bedwetting calendar for ABDLs, recreational bedwetters, and their caregviers for sale now on Lulu.com!
  5. Hello all! Introducing myself.. Let’s start with my husband and I wear 24/7. Married 20+ years and finally opening up our relationship to involve others. We are both educated and professionals. I am bicurious. He is the sub in all this and will be with whomever I say. Most do not understand this lifestyle so I figured I would branch out here to start up new friendships. Feel free to send me a message and ask any questions you like! We do travel often so don’t let Houston scare you! Dprcple
  6. Such a big group! Where is everyone located? Any in Houston? We travel often and always looking for new friends!
  7. Hello! I've recently moved to Plattsmouth and am looking for some fellow friends in the area, possibly more if luck were to have it. Just looking for connections to make.
  8. Hi! 24f looking to find friends in the community. completely safe for work friends only please! As the titles says, im looking for other adult babies near central indiana, which includes albany,Alexandria, muncie,Yorktown and so on.
  9. Hi all! My babygirl and I are looking for friends in the community. Ideally, we would like to meet some people or couples to hang out with. Anything from going out to eat to just letting the littles play and color together. Not looking for anything lewd, just wholesome play time and friendship. If there is anyone interested in the Upstate SC area, message me.
  10. Hello, All Hi there my name is David. I am a 33 single year white male that stands 5'11 inches tall, Hazel eyes, Black hair. I am from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania born and rasied my whole life. I am easy to talk too, down to earth, sweet, caring, loving, loveable, fun, funny, great personality, opened minded, playful, kinky, babyish, ect. Into many different hobbies such as cars, hanging out with friends, listening to music, sports, shopping, video games, movies, Tv, nightlife, movies, playing poker, much more. I am a ABDL and into the Lifestyle/Fetish looking to make friends and possible more. Also never joined a ABDL chatrooms so new to that and Always kept things to myself since Family/Friends don't know that I am into this. Would enjoy talking and getting to know others. If any Questions please feel free to ask.
  11. Over the course of my life, I've had a few times where friends or family have brought up diapers in strange or weird contexts. A few examples follow. While playing D&D we somehow got onto a discussion of useful noncombat magic items. Self heating fry pans, self cleaning clothes, etc. When one person suggested magical diapers of absorbency +1. For a while I had a Quora account. A question popped up in feed about gaming and wearing a diaper for an ultra long session. Someone had posted an answer that they should wear a diaper. Out of curiosity I clicked through to see who had answered that. It was one of my brothers. Which I found odd, because to the best of my knowledge he neither games nor wears diapers. One of my sisters is a nurse, and works the overnight shift at a nursing home. She works most holidays, so we rarely see each other. One Christmas we were talking and she suggested, jokingly, calling me between her changing residents diapers. An Aunt of ours walked by and only heard the changing diapers bit. She asked me when I was going to start that (asking when I was going to get married and start a family). I didn't reply that I'd change my diaper that night before bed. So has anyone else had this sort of thing happen to them? Share the stories if you want.
  12. I felt the weight in my belly, and shifted in my seat a little. It was uncomfortable, but not urgent. I could finish the sketch. Besides, everyone was sitting quietly watching a film, and if I moved now I'd disturb them. And lose my seat in the big comfy chair. And everyone would probably move so I'd have to start the drawing all over again. Definitely best to stay put. I looked around the room, and for a moment my headspace slipped a tiny bit and I considered how weird it was. There were twelve of us in total, friends renting an Airbnb for the weekend as a way to catch up and chill out. So far so normal. Except nine of us, myself included, were wearing nappies under our clothes, and most of that nine were in cute onesies, sucking on dummies. I hadn't started out as an age player. I was turned on by nappies, and the sense of humiliation that came with wearing and using them. They were also a way to relax without having to worry about the bother of getting up to use the toilet. Over time, however, I'd fallen further down the 'cute' rabbit hole and at this point in spite of wearing what I'd come to describe as "big kid clothes", I was also sucking on a dummy, with my stuffed sloth and cuddly robot (the world's greatest crime fighting duo) close at hand. My attention came back to the feeling of needing to go, as I felt a pressure in my bottom increase. I relaxed a tiny bit and let out a silent fart. I'd had hang ups about my interest in nappies for a long time, but in recent years, after falling in with a nice crowd in the local ageplay scene, I'd become far more comfortable, and even become OK with wearing them when I was around other people. First on a one to one basis, then under my clothes at kink events. People knew I was wearing, but it was still subtle enough for me that it felt ok. I wasn't being submissive or smoll around strangers, and so I had enough control that I still felt safe. This trip away was about changing that. I was envious of the people who could wander around at events without a care in the world, so this weekend, surrounded by people I trusted, I was going to push myself further than I'd been before. Maybe not do the baby thing, a lot of that bored me, but at the very least give up control completely and let someone else be in charge. "Ew, that stinks" one of the girls cried out as the smell from my fart reached her. I blushed a little, and curled up into my chair, embarrassed. This caught the eye of one of the three 'Bigs' in the room. He came over to me, looked me in the eyes and asked, "Have you had an accident?" I shook my head vigorously. "Stand up please" he said, helping me up out of my chair. With everyone in the room watching, he undid my jeans and let them drop to around my ankles. He put his hand on the front of my nappy, squashing the slightly soggy padding. "Hmmm… someone's telling fibs" he said, "you'll pay for that later on". "I thought you meant a messy accident" I gulped out. "Well as you can't be trusted to tell me when you use your nappy, let's check for that too, shall we?" He turned me around so my back faced the room, then cupped the bottom of my nappy, before bending down and giving it a sniff. "Hmmm…" he mused, as he stood back up. He then pulled back the waistband, and peeked inside. "Nope. Clean." He said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. I smiled as he turned me around, "see!" I said, a smug tone to my voice, "I wasn't lying." "Except about being a soggy pants" he replied. "Its only a little damp!" "Well an accident is an accident as far as I'm concerned" he said, a slightly stern tone to his voice, "and a fib is a fib. Now sit back down please." I did as he told me. He bent down and picked my jean's up off the floor. "I'll be taking these, as you can't be trusted to be honest with me, then you can't be trusted to have your nappy covered." I blushed, and tried to edge back into my seat to hide my nappy as best I could. Embarrassed by how obvious my crinkly, soggy state now was, I picked up my sketchbook again and continued drawing. I managed to finish just as the film ended. A few minutes later everyone moved into the other room to play games. I started to get up, but the weight in my belly had become worse, and I realised I was minutes away from losing control and messing myself. I sat back down and curled back into my chair. Another one of the Bigs came over. "Don't want to play the games?" She asked. I shook my head. "Come on, you'll have fun." "Ok" I said, a little reluctant. I stood up slowly, careful to clench my butt cheeks together to avoid an accident. The Big saw this, "Do you need to sit on the potty?" She gestured over to the plastic potty chair that had been left in the corner of the room. My eyes went wide. It was one thing to have someone take me to the toilet, but to sit on an actual potty in the middle of the room, even an empty room, was too terrifying. I shook my head. "Well I guess you've got your nappy on if you have an accident" she teased, patting my butt and ushering me along. Slowly, carefully, I waddled into the dining room. Everyone was sitting around the table, playing board games. I pulled out a chair and sat down. At first I just watched, but the next round I decided to join in. I was having so much fun I completely forgot about my discomfort. That was until I stood up to take my turn. My stomach lurched. At first I just began to pee, unleashing a flood I was worried was going to cause a leak. Then I felt the hold on my sphincter give out as the poo pushed its way into my nappy. I froze for a moment, but realised that would give the game away to everyone, and stupid as it sounds, I wasn't quite ready for that. I finished my turn, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible, then sat down. I winced a little as the mess squished against my backside and spread throughout my nappy. I wasn't sure if anyone had realised what was happening when I messed myself, but between the smell, the lack of trousers, and the obviously used padding, it wouldn't be long before they worked it out. I tried to concentrate on the game, but all I could focus on was the twitching of people's noses, the sound of them sniffing. Other littles had wet themselves so far, but no one had been messy. I wasn't even certain other people did that sort of thing, although we'd all agreed beforehand it would be ok if people wanted to. One thing I was certain of, after the moment earlier while watching the film, was that once it was noticed there would be no keeping it a secret. Suddenly all eyes fell on me, and for a moment I thought I'd been rumbled, until I realised it was my turn in the game. Reluctantly I stood up, and as I did the smell from my nappy wafted through the room. "Someone's a stinky butt" the girl who smelled me earlier announced. I blushed, as I muttered a weak "no I'm not" from behind my dummy. I don't know why I lied at that point, but it seemed to fit the role I'd fallen into, the kid who still has accidents, but doesn't like to admit it. "Are you sure about that? " asked the Big who had led me into the room, "liars get a smacked bottom and corner time". I considered this for a moment, "I haven't had an accident", I said petulantly, "I'm not a baby". "Oh really?" Miss Big countered, taking my hand and leading me away from the table so there was absolutely no way of hiding the state of my nappy from anyone. She squished the front of the padding, sending a shiver through my body, "well that's definitely a lie" she announced, "you're absolutely soaking". I felt her other hand on the back of my nappy, "As you haven't made a mess, I guess you won't mind if I do this" she pressed her hand firmly against my butt, forcing the mess against my skin. I shuddered again, from humiliation and pleasure. Her hand moved up to the waistband, and she tugged it back. I felt a slight rush of cold air against my butt and a waft of smell escaped the nappy. "Someone's a stinky little fiber, aren't they?" She teased. I whimpered, as the state I was in was confirmed for everyone. "Well, you were warned about not telling the truth" she continued. She pulled my chair out from the table and sat down, then took my hand and tugged it, leading me to lay down across her lap."I want you to count along each of the times I spank you, please." Her hand came down on my nappy. Between the padding and the mess it wasn't painful, I could barely feel anything beyond the impact, but the sensation of the mess being spread throughout my nappy, while everyone watched me being punished was overwhelming. I began to sob. Quietly at first, then full blown floods of tears. When the spanking was over the Big helped me up off her lap, then pulled me into a hug. She stroked my hair while I calmed down. Eventually she helped me up and led me into the adjacent room. I assumed this was for a change, but instead she walked me over to a corner. "You're going to stay here for five minutes please" she told me, "while you think about what you should have done when I asked you if you'd made a mess". I put my nose into the corner, and stood still sucking on my dummy. I tried to do as she had told me and consider what I ought to have done, but all I could really think about was how horny I was. My hand moved towards the front of my nappy… "What do you think you're doing?!" Miss Big asked, a loud and sharp tone to her voice. "Nothing." I replied. "Then keep your hands where I can see them, please. Put them on the back of your nappy, and push the mess up to remind you what you've done." I did as she asked and continued to stare at the wall, my eyes filling with tears once again. When the five minutes were up I was led back out of the corner. "Well done for being in the corner," Miss Big congratulated me "now what should you have done when I asked if you'd had an accident?" "Told you" I replied, still sobbing a little. "But i wasn't sure". "Really?" She asked, a hint of incredulity to her tone, "you didn't feel it when you messed your nappy? Or when you sat down in your mess? You couldn't smell it?" I shook my head. "I thought the smell was someone else" I said, meekly. "Then you should have told me that you weren't sure, and I would have checked." She explained, "it's ok that you have accidents in your nappy, that's why you're wearing them, and I don't mind you not being sure if you have, but that means I need to check to see." I nodded, stuttering out "ok. I'm sorry" from around my dummy. "I think it's just because you like being stinky and didn't want a clean nappy" she said, a grin on her face. I smiled, she'd definitely got that right. "Have you gone as much as you need to, or do you think you need to go more?" She asked. I shrugged. "Well let's keep you in that nappy a little while longer then". With that she took me by the hand and led me back into the dining room. She pulled out a chair and sat me down next to the girl who had smelled me before, who greeted me with a "hello, stinky butt." I smiled at her, gave her a big hug, and rejoined the game. After about half an hour Miss Big glanced across the table at me, "have you pooped your nappy any more?" "I don't think so" I said, blushing. "I think I'd like you to try for me" she said, "you can either sit on my lap and try here, or we can go in the other room and you can sit on the potty." I didn't know it was possible, but my face became even more red. "Potty" I requested. At least I'd get a little privacy. With that she took me into the living room and sat me, still in my nappy, on the potty. Then she rubbed my back while I tried to push out more mess. "Having any luck?" She asked as she watched me straining. I shook my head. "I'm going to be changing another messy nappy later on, aren't I?" I smiled behind my dummy, "maybe". "Well you've been very good trying to go more for me. And mostly good all day, so how about we give you a reward?" I grinned at that prospect. Miss Big led me into one of the bedrooms, where a mattress protector had been set out on the bed. "Lay down for me please" she requested, and I did as she asked. She grabbed several bundles of rope, and moved round the bed tying each of my limbs to a bed post. Then she took a blindfold and tied it around my eyes. I had a good idea of what was coming next, and the loud buzzing sound confirmed it. The next thing I knew a high powered vibrator was being held against the front of my nappy, and gently massaged around. I was already incredibly aroused, and this very quickly sent me straight to the edge. "Are you going to cum for me in that disgusting, stinky, messy nappy?" Miss Big asked. Words were lost to me now, but I forced out an affirmatory grunt. "Ask me for permission to cum then?" She instructed. I fought the waves of pleasure just enough to ask, "May I please cum?" "And what are you going to cum into?" She teased. It was almost impossible to think, but somehow I managed to say the words, "My disgusting, stinky, messy nappy". "And why are you cumming into a soggy, messy nappy?" She knew how to humiliate and torture me. "B… because I'm not big enough to use the toilet and I have accidents". "Good." She said, taking a pause that seemed to last forever, "then yes, you may cum" I stopped fighting, and waves of pleasure overcame me. As I did, Miss Big continued to hold the vibrator against the nappy, making the sensation last for so long that I thought I might pass out. Eventually she took the vibrator off, and I relaxed into a puddle of goo on the bed. She untied my arms and legs, then climbed onto the bed, pulling me into a hug. "Did you enjoy that?" She asked as she removed my blindfold. I just about yelped out a "yes". "Good". She held me, sharing her body heat with me and stroking me, letting me slowly come back down to earth. Eventually she glanced down at the nappy, which was starting to leak a little. "Best we get you changed, eh?" She suggested. I was in no state to argue. "One sec," she said, as she darted out of the room. When she returned, she had both my stuffies in her hands, as well as the wipes, cream and a fresh nappy. There also seemed to be something else, but I couldn't quite make out what. She handed me my stuffies, and I snuggled them tight and closed my eyes as she untapped the front of the nappy. "Wow" she declared, "you really did use this to its fullest extent, didn't you?" I was too spaced to give an answer, and instead just whimpered. I felt the wipes on my skin, as she cleaned me, wiping off the mess from my inner thighs and my bottom cheeks. she had me hold my legs up so she could clean my lower back and pull the nappy out from under me, then I felt a wipe inserted into my bottom. "Just making sure you're all clean" she told me, then followed with "stay like that for a second". I did as I was told. It was then she revealed the other thing she had brought into the room - a tunnel butt plug. "As you don't seem to care if you're messy or not, we may as well take your control away from you entirely. She covered the plug in lube, and gently eased it into my hole. It took a while, as I expanded to take the toy, but eventually she pushed it home. With the plug in, she slipped my clean nappy under me, then produced a fleet enema from her pocket and squirted it into my hole. She had me stay like that as the liquid trickled down past my now powerless sphincter and into my colon. After about a minute and a half she decided it was time to act. "Ok, legs down. Quickly." She instructed. I did as I was told, and she taped me into the nappy. "There you go" she said, "clean and dry. For about five minutes." A sadistic smile on her face. She helped me up and we headed back into the living room, where everyone was gathered around the TV, taking turns to play video games. I sat down and waited patiently for my go. Every so often I'd notice a smell, but it was brief so I ignored it. Then one of the Bigs went over to the girl who had called me a stinky butt. She was lying on the floor, colouring, and didn't even acknowledge him when he undid the bottom of her onesie. He pulled back the waistband of her nappy, then declared, "I thought as much", before doing the onesie back up. I scooted over to her and gave her a hug, telling her, "I'm glad I'm not the only one who has messy accidents". She giggled at that. Then it was my turn on the game. I got in close to the TV, and raised myself up on my knees so that I could see properly. It was a fighting game, best of three rounds. I won the first, lost the second. I was really getting into the game in the final round, when I suddenly noticed the smell again, but this time much worse, and it wasn't going away. I was having lots of fun though, and was close to winning, so I ignored it. I kept blocking every attack, dropping the block and getting a punch or a kick in here and there. It was tight. Finally I saw my chance. I moved the joystick left, then right, then left again. Then hit the buttons just right. A fireball launched across the screen, my opponent went down. I won. Delighted, I sat down on the floor hard. And that was when I realised why the smell was so strong. Miss Big had been right about my nappy only being clean for five minutes. Once again, I was a stinky butt. If anything I was stinker than before. I put the controller down and toddled over to Miss Big. "I think I've had an accident" I whispered to her. She smiled, "Are you sure?" "Yes" i said, nervously. Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that I had pooped my pants for a second time in under an hour. "Ok, well done for telling me." Miss Big said with that sadistic smile forming once again, "you go back and play, and I might think about checking you later to see if you need a change." My eyes went wide. "But everyone will find out" I begged. Miss Big hugged me, and put her hand on my butt, patting it in a way that was both very reassuring and also deeply humiliating. "Honey," she said, a soothing tone to her voice, "You're in a room filled with people who love you. You're also not wearing anything over your nappy. They knew as soon as you pooped yourself the first time. It was pretty obvious that it was happening while you leaned over the table, and they knew when you did it now, because they saw the back of your nappy fill up and the brown stain developing on your butt. They also all have a sense of smell, and that alone means theres no hiding what you've just done." She began to stroke my hair as I sucked harder on my dummy and tears welled up in my eyes, "and you know what? No one cares. Everyone thinks it's cute, and that you're cute." She kissed my head, and patted the seat next to her on the sofa. I sat beside her and cuddled close, "Now rest here a while", she said, picking up a bottle of milk from a table beside her and slipping it between my lips as she guided my head down into her lap, "you've had an exciting time so far, and I think you could probably use a nap".
  13. Hello all just was wondering if there was any abdls or babyfurs in Wagoner Oklahoma or close Wagoner who would want to meet up or just chat.
  14. My name is opal, I’m 22, Lesbian and in Darmstadt Indiana. I’m a little 2-4, who would love to make some new friends. I’ve never had a mommy/caregiver/little friends, so I am pretty new to all of this. I love the outdoors, stuffies ?, coffee ☕, animals, flowers ? baking ?, fruits ? coloring ?️‍?, going on walks, apple juice ? I have the cutest doggy ? My favorite colors are baby blue ? & baby pink ? I love fuzzy stuff ? Some of my favorite shows are Steven Universe, Avatar the last Airbender, Rick and Morty, Studio Ghibli and Rupauls Drag Race ? I love just about every kind of music but Motionless in White is my favorite band ? Giraffes ? Doggies ? and Elephants ? are my favorite animals. I’d say I’m on the androgynous side ? Dislikes are yelling ?, belittling, the dark ?, racist/sexist ?, cheaters and lying! I also have a few health problems and anxiety ? I’d love to play outside and just having fun together! ??Nobody actually knows about this side of me and I would like friends I’d be able to talk to openly!??‍?‍??
  15. Hi, I'm a diaper lover who can get really dirty. Give me an email I would love to exchange videos and chat about my naughtiness. Hope to make some diaper friends that I can open up too about everything.
  16. I would love some friends especially people under the age of like 25. I’m a 19 yr old just looking for fun or friends! Hope to see some response. ?
  17. Part One Sleep, study, social life; a good student could only afford two. Connie’s choice had been difficult enough without work in the mix. A thousand miles from home, sharing a room with a stranger, she clung to the future promised by her degree. Things would be better after that, even if the present was killing her. It was a brutal week of rude customers bookended with assignments. Connie could barely remember coming back from the library, or if she went back to the dorms at all. Every moment saw her crossing points from her endless to do list before trudging through the next item. She needed sleep. Whether it was a Wednesday or Thursday Connie could hardly tell; only that it was the afternoon and she had a window through which to crash. The handful of hours offered by her angel of a professor was a gift she was determined not to waste. Perhaps when she woke it would be with sanity restored. But even after her head struck the pillow rest evaded her. She closed her eyes and cleared her thoughts, but remained aware of herself and her surroundings. Her body, it seemed, had been trained to endure through exhaustion, and did not recognize the now alien nature of her reprieve. Something had to be done. On the rare nights she stayed in the dorm she watched her roommate, Emily, sleeping with her headphones on. ‘Relaxation tapes,’ she said, and they appeared to do the trick. Under the dim light emanating from her desk Connie would often find the other girl smiling in her sleep, sometimes squealing in delight; always peaceful, always happy. Oh, but for a fraction of that contentment! On any other day Connie would have left things as they were, but times were desperate. She opened the top drawer beside Emily’s bed and removed the small mp3 device sat inside. She replaced the headphones with her own. After scribbling a note to Emily, apologizing for borrowing without permission, she sprawled across the bed and hit play. Soothing music washed her thoughts. A gentle warmth ran to the tips of her fingers. All care melted into the ground. And then… **** Connie bunched the comforter in her arms, and held tighter as she began to stir. Better to bury herself in the warm fabric than think about how cold it was between her thighs. The thought landed; why were her thighs cold, and why were they wet? Connie started up in bed. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest when confronted by the stark reality. She’d wet the bed, like a small child! Her jeans, her underwear, her sheets, all stained and reeking. As though it weren’t bad enough the dread tightened when Emily stepped into the room with a gentle smile. Wild with panic, Connie threw the comforter over her lower half. Emily, however, did not falter, and kneeled by her side. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘This is all my fault!’ Connie knew the words, but the more she thought about them the less they made sense. Though they’d barely spoken she recognized Emily as a gentle soul; the kind of girl who’d grow up to be a perfect mom. Her long, straight, strawberry blond hair had the same divine aspect as her eyes, sparkling pale and green. That was to say nothing of her smile upon which she’d carried a thousand wounded souls. She took care of her friends, though Connie was hardly that. Even then, the gentle touch running down her arm was familiar, as though they’d known each other for the better part of forever. Emily winced. ‘You listened to my relaxation tapes.’ Guilt wrenched Connie’s chest. ‘Those aren’t normal tapes,’ Emily said. Words faltered on her tongue. ‘The point is this isn’t your fault. Everything’s going to be okay. Come on. Let me help you get cleaned up.’ Connie flinched at the thought. Help? Wet clothes and a wet bed were easy to handle, maybe, on any other day. Yet every time she tried to move her body resisted. The job became bigger and bigger as she became smaller and smaller, and none of it made any sense. Connie whined as tears started to flow down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Next she knew Emily’s arms were around her, pulling her close, drawing circles on her back. The other girl hushed and sang and assured her that everything was going to be alright. Connie couldn’t explain why, but she believed her. Something about those gentle arms made the world safe; even more than her comforter when she was clinging tight. ‘You must be feeling very fragile right now,’ Emily said. She was. ‘And little.’ She was. ‘And you really wish someone strong and kind would come and make things better.’ Connie hesitated before giving a loose nod. Emily eased back to brush the stray hairs falling over Connie’s face. Her green eyes lit up as she met the other woman’s gaze. ‘You can trust me to take care of everything,’ she said. ‘I owe you that much. I won’t hurt you. I promise.’ For reasons beyond her comprehension Connie’s thumb slipped into her mouth. She may not even have been aware of it; only the soothing sensation that followed when something was inside her mouth. If such a thing were unusual Emily said nothing about it. Instead she guided her roommate to her feet and held her hand as they stepped into the bathroom. Dutifully Emily lowered into a squat and unbuttoned Connie’s jeans. She slipped her fingers into the band of her underwear and slipped both garments to the ground. She then prompted Connie to step out of the leg holes, one after the other. Though still wearing a tee shirt, Connie had never been so naked. She winced knowing that Emily was the first to see her this way - not even boyfriends had seen her body entirely - but remained calm under the clinical gaze. Nothing, however, could prepare her for the cold shock of a wipe running between her thighs. Connie whimpered. Her knees buckled, but Emily’s firm hand kept her straight. ‘Everything’s alright, princess.’ ‘Princess,’ Connie echoed. At any other time it would sound condescending. Why not then? A sudden rush coursed through her body as the wipe ran between her lips. It was an area once exclusive to Connie’s touch. She pulled her arms closer across her chest. Her mouth sucked more intensely on her thumb. Emily hummed a bright, bubbly tune. ‘There we go, sweetheart. All clean!’ Finally, Connie thought. Emily paused. Her smile tightened. ‘We just need one more thing...’ New pants were exactly what Connie needed, but when Emily reached for the side counter she found her roommate had something else in mind. From the lower cupboard designated for Emily’s use she removed a flat, plastic piece of padding. Emily’s jaw tightened as she brought herself upright. ‘The effects of the tape last for about twelve hours,’ she said. ‘You’re going to need one of these.’ Unless her eyes deceived her Emily was offering Connie an adult sized diaper. More than it was an incontinence aid it was also strewn with pink shapes, decorated in the same way that it would be for a child. Connie frowned. ‘Why do you have this?’ The answer should have been obvious, but still evaded her. Emily retreated into her shoulders and fixed her eyes shut. Rolling up her shirt seemed to cause her pain, as did pressing down the hem of her skirt to reveal an identical garment taped up underneath. ‘You wear these,’ Connie said. Emily nodded, but dared not look. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I’m a big, pervy weirdo that likes to be a baby sometimes,’ she said, ‘and the tape you listened to helps me regress into little space. I don’t use my pacifier when you’re around, but you never notice when I’m wearing, so…’ Connie blinked. ‘Wearing?’ ‘Wearing diapers,’ Emily groaned. ‘I have been for nearly the whole time we’ve been rooming together.’ ‘But you said they were rela… re-lack-say-’ ‘Relaxation tapes, yeah,’ Emily said. ‘Being a baby is relaxing for me. I didn’t think you’d ever sneak through my drawers and use them!’ Connie shook her head. This was a lot of new information; more than she knew how to handle in such a short amount of time. Confusion swirled between her ears. Her tummy ached. It didn’t feel good. Soon it was too much, and came spilling out in tears and sobs. Emily leaned into her and hushed her, just like a mother would. ‘It’s okay, little one. I told you we’d get through this, remember?’ There was no reason for Connie to place that level of trust in her roommate - the two were relative strangers - and yet her scepticism remained absent, perhaps overtaken by the immense need for comfort. Was it a product of the tapes? It had to be, she thought; she needed as a child might need, and filled her arms with a figure to protect her. Emily lead her back to the main room. ‘Come lay on my bed.’ She did as she was told, allowing herself to be all the more vulnerable. Connie’s shame grew when her legs fell open. She’d revealed more of her body in the last few minutes than she had to anyone. The cool air tickled, and she shuddered. Guiding the girl’s backside up Emily slipped a towel beneath her. She beamed and hushed Connie with a finger to her mouth. ‘I’m not going to do anything untoward,’ she said. ‘You’re perfectly safe, and this is perfectly chaste.’ Connie groaned. Strange that she was both disappointed and relieved with the prospect. Reaching into a drawer Emily produced a pacifier, one whose plastic nipple was larger than any the vulnerable woman had ever seen before. She offered it to Connie who accepted it happily. It was even better than her thumb, and the relief that came with it! All her tension poured into sucking the plastic object. Emily wasn’t done, however. She reached over Connie’s head and to the far corner. From there she fished a stuffed rabbit; one which Connie had mistaken for ornamental, but now realized was so much more. It should have seemed silly to draw comfort from an old toy, but the moment Connie touched its fur she was filled with the love that was poured into it, night after night. She clutched the plaything and exhaled. ‘I see you and Whiskers are making fast friends,’ Emily teased. Connie held tighter, and buried her face in the rabbit’s fur. ‘Are you feeling happy, little one?’ Connie nodded. The butterflies eased some. How could something so weird be okay? Perhaps, she thought, it was the lilt in Emily’s voice, like magic. ‘Good girl.’ She giggled in spite of herself. She hadn’t been a ‘good girl’ since she was a child, but then again that’s what she’d become; or a psychological facsimile of one. So many people spent their lives reclaiming a lost childhood. Why shouldn’t Connie enjoy the experience while it lasted? Her embarrassment returned with the sound of crinkling and the realization of what was about to happen. Twelve hours, Emily said; twelve hours until she could return to adulthood and control of her bladder. What part constituted ‘relaxation’ was anybody’s guess, but for the sake of her sheets and what semblance of remaining dignity she could muster Connie would see it through to the end. Obediently and with minimal complaint she lifted her behind for Connie to slide the garment beneath her. She clung tighter to Whiskers as the rain of powder tickled between her legs. The heavy scent caused a tiny sneeze to escape her. ‘Bless you,’ Emily sang. She was going to make a great mom someday. Connie winced with the tearing sound and planted herself ever deeper into Whiskers’ fur. She lay still as the soft lining closed over her mound and Emily fastened the plastic flaps around her hips. They were firm against her body, but as Connie sat up she couldn’t help but notice how loose it was underneath. When she was upright it was with a quiet puff and a cloud of powder. Emily knelt and perched her chin on Connie’s knees. ‘How do you feel?’ She mumbled around the pacifier. ‘I feel…’ Words half formed on her tongue. Most failed after the first syllable. ‘Feels like my pants are going to fall off…’ Her roommate smiled. ‘Don’t worry. Diapers are supposed to feel that way. They need room to, erm, how do you say, expand.’ The stark reality drove deeper. First Connie had wet the bed, next she was wearing a diaper, and soon she would likely use it for its intended purpose, all because of a silly tape! Her hands trembled and her cheeks burned. Tears rolled down her already swollen features and ran under her chin. Emily pulled her into another embrace. Her fingers swirled in circles around her back, keeping her in one piece. All the while she hummed sweet assurances. ‘There, there, little one. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. This is going to be our little secret, okay? I promise to look after you until this is all over, and then everything goes back to normal.’ ‘But- but I have so many things to do,’ Connie said. The very thought of her workload prompted a fresh round of tears. Her schedule was heavy enough for adult shoulders, let alone in her current state. She sobbed until the lump in her throat was full and hard. Emily climbed into the bed and pulled her reluctant charge back into her arms. Connie clung to Whiskers so that he sat between them. The blankets were drawn over them, and a safe cocoon took shape. ‘You don’t have to think about that now,’ Emily sang. ‘Just think about how good it feels right now, to be in my arms, safe and cared for.’ Her eyes closed, and for the first time since waking Connie’s troubles floated away, carried by the breeze. Her limbs collapsed against the force of gravity until her body was a lump held by her roommate. She breathed the warm scent of Emily’s flesh and the lingering apple shampoo she used. It was a moment of perfect peace, suddenly interrupted by heat between her legs. A small sound trickled to her ears as liquid expanded underneath her, curling up her behind. Connie stirred, but was quickly soothed by Emily’s melodious voice. ‘Just let it happen, little one. Everything’s alright. That’s what it’s there for. Just relax and stay here in my arms, okay?’ The world had gone topsy turvy, and yet Connie could not refuse such an offer. Emily’s breasts were warm and full of life. Her gentle heart beat set the rhythm for Connie’s breathing, until soon she closed her eyes and nothing else existed. Emily kissed her brow. ‘Goodnight, princess.’
  18. Hey all! I’m trying to raise awareness of an abdl open house coming up in Fort Wayne! It’s free! Details in the link! https://thediaperladies.com/special-event
  19. Dude with a massive Nappy fetish looking to meet like minded people in and around Bournemouth and Poole. for a long time I have wanted to reach out to find someone my my interests but never worked up the courage. so yeah I am into nappies, wearing a very wet huggies drynite as I write this :), and I would love to meet up with others to make friends and potentially wear together. mostly into the DL side of the kink but would with the right person be up for trying the AB side of it.
  20. Repost. One of my older stories. I wrote this before I wrote Bad Seed. It was originally posted back in 2013. ? Yikes. Where does the time go? Well, hopefully in all the time that's passed, my writing has improved. TRICKY TREATS by Cute Kitten Kaoru squirmed in her carseat, stretching her cramped muscles with what little wiggle room the dip of the seat and the harness restraint allowed. She pressed against the thick pink cushions of the over sized infant carrier, her diaper crinkling. As much as she loved her carseat, she'd been in it for hours. Her mate, Danny, had decided to drive straight through, stopping only for gas, to feed or change her, or for the occasional piss at the side of the road. She had slept most of the way up north through the night. Mate was a funny word, but given what Danny was, it was suitable. It was the correct term, according to him. Kaoru just called him her boyfriend, but their relationship was deeper than that, more like soul mates from a fairly tale. The term married couple could have applied to them, but that didn't really fit right, either. Mate sounded just as funny to her as boyfriend or husband did to Daniel. Mate was a strange word, but then Danny's true nature aside, they were a strange couple, she supposed. She enjoyed playing baby. It helped her cope with her past and her insecurities. As for Daniel, well, he was not human at all. An oversized infant carrier was just as strange and unbelievable as Danny's true nature was. It had been a gift sent from Auntie Hester, who over the phone had told them in jest that making a car seat that size was as easy as bippity boppity boo. Karou settled back down, staring out the window at the crisp colors of autumn leaves in the early morning sun. Her gaze shifted from the trees to her reflection. Staring back at her was what looked to be a petite preteen girl, half white and half Japanese, or Halfu as she'd been called back in her home country- half Japanese and half gaijin, dressed in a pink, oversized infant sleeper with attached mittens and booties and evident bulge of a ridiculously thick diaper. The sleeper had Disney Princess print. The pink and purple pacifier she sucked on and the Cinderella bib around her neck completed the ensemble. She scrunched her pert little nose up at her reflection. She didn't like how her eyes looked without her usual gyaru style makeup that made her eyes look poppingly big, almost like a Shojo anime character or a doll. Danny assured her she looked beyond adorable either way. The no makeup rule when playing baby was the only part of it she didn't like. Without makeup, she looked even younger than the preteen or young teen she was usually mistaken for. Over here in America, people always thought she was around fourteen or fifteen with makeup and ten or twelve without it. Her actual age was eighteen. She wondered if she ever got the chance to go back to her home country what age people would assume she was. Her actual gender was more tricky. She had been born a male, and had physically been a male for few years of her life. As a toddler, she had been drawn to girly things and had always felt like a girl inside, even when her mom and maternal grandparents insisted she was a boy. That came to a head when her mother's yakuza thug of a boyfriend, after a drinking binge one day, snatched Kaoru by her hair, sliced her dress off with a knife, slicing into her skin in the process, then began to butcher- The memory suddenly vanished, blanking from her mind as if sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. Kaoru gasped, almond eyes wide and pacifier tumbling from her lips. Her pulse sped and she grabbed onto Miss Mopsy, hugging her beloved plush bunny tight. "Pumpkin, you okay?" Kaoru looked up into a pair of concerned blue eyes visible in the rearview mirror as Danny checked on her from the driver's seat. She forced a weak smile that he didn't buy. "J-just a-a bad memory but it....feels more like a bad day dream. It disappeared in the middle-" She trailed off into a low mumble but he could still hear her heavily accented English. Her face showed her confusion. That memory was real, had happened, but it was already gone from her mind, wiped away like the early morning mists. Remnants lingered like ghosts, but even they were fading. Danny's eyes softened with a touch of sadness, sorry that his baby girl's past still hurt her. "Auntie Hester said the effects of the potion she sent will increase with each dose. It will take some time, but soon you'll forget those memories forever." Hester was a very good friend of Daniel's; they considered each other siblings even though they were not related by blood at all. Or marriage. Neither was Hester Kaoru's aunt or any relation at all, but she insisted Kaoru call her Auntie, and Karou seemed to enjoy it as well. Kaoru's smile grew slightly more steady. There were things in her past she did not want to remember. Therapy and medication hadn't helped her cope much, and the scars on her body were reminder enough. Danny's sister had sent Kaoru a special potion she'd brewed, and dose by dose it was gradually erasing the painful things Kaoru dearly wished to forget, misting over the scars of her heart and mind.
  21. I started to put this story up before but it was removed for some reason but no one knows why. I have been advised to try again Baby Dick I’m sitting in the doctor’s office stripped down to my underwear awaiting his arrival and I’m feeling cold and vulnerable. The thin cream nylon curtain that separates me and the plastic padded bed I’m sitting on from his surgery still allows me to hear him whispering to a nurse, whilst tapping away at his computer keyboard. I wish he’d hurry up and start his examination as I’m bored of looking at the blue, hygienic paper sheet that covers the bed and the rather large, scary-looking chrome implement that I can just see through the crack in the flimsy drape. Even though I’m expecting it, the sudden noise as he pulls back the curtain makes me jump. “Don’t be scared Michael, I’m only going to examine you.” His words are gentle but I’m still on edge as he places a stethoscope against my chest and begins. He weighs, measures, taps, pokes, and peers into every part of my anatomy though it’s a worry when he shuffles down my underwear and cups my genitals. I look over at mum and dad who are sitting on plastic chairs only a few feet away watching this process. The doctor addresses them rather than me whenever he has a question or makes a comment. “He’s very undeveloped for a thirteen year old.” He continues the examination by feeling my penis and searching for my balls. He looks over at my parents and tells them I may be suffering from something, but he says it in doctor-speak so I have no idea what he means. However, the word ‘micropenis’ is in there somewhere and I understand that. Eventually he stops his prodding and poking and pulls up my underwear, which is a thick fabric nappy and tells me that I should relax. I lay out on the paper covered padded bed and he pops in a large dummy that has suddenly appeared on a ribbon around my neck. He then pulls a soft, fleecy baby blue blanket up over me and tells me again to relax whilst he speaks to my parents. “Is there anything that can be done for him?” I hear mother say. “An operation or drugs?” Dad adds. “Look…. Mr and Mrs Smith… it’s perfectly simple… your boy doesn’t want to grow up. His tiny baby sized penis is him trying to tell you… he wants to stay a baby.” “Really?” Both my parent’s chorus. “It’s perfectly normal for a boy his age. What with the pressures of becoming a teenager… it’s too much stress, so he wants to go back to being looked after… not have to make decisions… to be without responsibilities. His baby sized penis, lack of pubic hair and his soft babyish features… well; it’s his way of telling you this.” I’m shocked by what the doctor is saying but my nappy is hugging me tightly, the fleecy blanket is very comforting and so is sucking on my dummy. I feel myself drift off as my parents continue their discussion with my GP. # I wake up and I’m back in my own bedroom. It’s the smallest room in the house and whilst my older brother Paul and sister Helen have larger rooms, this one suits me as it’s mine… and it’s very, very cosy. I’ve made it my fortress; with all my favourite popstar posters pinned up on the wall. My white closet and chest of drawers keep my clothes nicely stored away, whilst the shelf that runs around three of the walls hold a few books but also my favoured toys and stuffed animals (I have quite a menagerie) who look on and keep me company. It must be getting near morning as I can see a glow around the window frame but checking the clock shows it’s not time to get up for school yet. I sigh in relief although know that this Monday is going to be a bit of a trial for me. I lay there warm and cosy under my covers, though a sudden thought made me check myself. Thankfully, I hadn’t had an accident and my PJs were dry so I wriggled, wondering why, for the second night in a row, I’d had such a similar weird dream. # Actually, I guess I know why - the Friday before I was walking home from school when Cuddy Cudthorpe and his gang of bullies ambushed me near the local park, bundled me through some bushes and stripped me naked. Well, not completely naked, they left me wearing a thick disposable with ‘Baby Dick’ written in thick black letters across the white material, front and back. I tried to fight them off but five burly fifteen year olds had the upper hand, especially as I’m thirteen and a bit of a wimp, physically and mentally. Ever since it became public knowledge, well amongst the school, that I was under endowed, he’d made it his job to terrify and belittle me at every opportunity. Of course, like most bullies, he does his nasty deeds when only he or he and his friends are present, so it’s difficult to prove any of my allegations. But it is true that I have a smaller than perhaps normal penis, certainly a great deal smaller than my older brother, unfortunately, mine had been noticed in the showers after gym and swimming lessons by my class. I got a load of ribbing from my class mates but then it got to the ears of Cuddy and since then he seemed to take great delight in never missing an opportunity of referring to me as ‘Baby Dick’. He’s gone out of his way to leave those two words emblazoned on my locker, my books and on the walls of the toilet. Now loads of the school refer to me by that name, which has pleased him no end. However, being embarrassed at school obviously just wasn’t enough for him so he decided to go public. That’s why the attack; he wanted to publicly humiliate me, which he did. I had to walk home wearing a loose fitting, soaked diaper (I was crying and scared) and it must have made his day as he held me down and in fear began to pee myself. He and his mates took photos, cheered about the ‘fun’ we were all having but left me crying in a heap and I still had to find my way the mile and a half home wearing what I had on and looking like I did. It was a warm afternoon but it didn’t seem to faze anyone that a boy my age should be crying and wearing a sagging nappy; although, at that time of day it was mostly school children on their way home and not many grown-ups. No one stopped to offer me help. Even other pupils from the school crossed over the road or giggled at my distress, no doubt knowing it was Cuddy’s doing and not wanting to be the next in line for his ‘practical jokes’. When I arrived home my school uniform was strewn around the garden, everything that is apart from my underpants. I got the message - they thought I was a baby and didn’t need ‘big boy’ pants. Cuddy’d whispered this at school and also while he bundled me into my current disposable that, with a dick like mine, I should always wear nappies. # Although more than a little traumatised there was no one else at home when I arrived so didn’t have to explain anything to anybody. I picked up my clothes and let myself in and waddled up to my room, the wet disposable sagging dangerously low as I climbed the stairs. I stood in front of the mirror and surveyed myself. My eyes were dark rings, tearstains ran down my cheeks and yet, those two words ‘Baby Dick’ emblazoned on the now pitifully full disposable didn’t hold any horror for me. In fact, since my situation had become common knowledge, the taunting and comments had strangely made me more popular… well, perhaps what I mean is, more people knew who I was - ‘Baby Dick’. I’d never been popular at school, not that I didn’t have friends but to be popular you had to be someone, or have done something, and that just wasn’t me. I excelled in being the very opposite of astounding. However, back to my mirror image - I haven’t worn a nappy since I was three years old, and, although my penis hadn’t grown a great deal since, the doctors said that my small penis is just nature – some people have massive ones, others small, whilst most are just normal. Its size had never really bothered me because until the comments at school, it wasn’t an issue. However, with all the name calling and references to me being a baby I began to think more and more about what it would be like being a toddler again and not have to put up with all this aggravation… and surprise, surprise, I didn’t mind the idea. This was probably why, in my dreams, the doctor was telling my parents my small penis was my way of saying I wanted to be a baby – that dream (and the hundred or so times a day ‘Baby Dick’ was shouted at me across the school yard) had a strange effect on me. It sort of instilled that idea deep in my conscious and subconscious. However and here’s the strange part, I’d had similar dreams before the Cuddy incident. These last two nights hadn’t been the only ones where I was a toddler. The difference was, in the current dreams it was me insisting on being treated as a little kid. Before, in fact way before, I’d had thoughts and dreams where I was a baby, and it wasn’t just my family insisting that’s what I should be, it was everyone. These mental images would just swamp in and for a few seconds it would be like... real... but then I’d come to my senses and just get on with whatever it was I was doing... and more or less tried to ignore it all. # I was standing still looking at myself in the mirror when I peed a little more. The full disposable warming slightly but under the extra weight finally gave up hanging on and collapsed to the floor leaving me staring at my mini penis. To me it didn’t look that small, except in comparison to my brother Paul; who has quite a large one. I know he’s sixteen and more developed than me but he and my sister take after my father’s side of the family, whilst I take after mum. So, whereas dad is tall and strong, mum is blonde and petite and that’s who I get my slim physique and blue eyes from. I suppose in other ways I haven’t kept up to my classmates in maturity- for instance, I still haven’t sprouted much in the way of pubic hair, my voice doesn’t appear to have broken and the things I like on TV are more likely stuff that a seven or eight year old might prefer. Oh yes, you know the menagerie I spoke about, I take it in turns sleeping with them all. I love cuddling my stuffed animals and have never once thought it odd doing so even at my age. Mum has had me at the doctors on several occasions and tests have indicated that there is no growth problem, it will all sort itself out and that I’m quite normal, just developing at a different rate to everyone else. Being the youngest in the family has always meant that I’m treated as the baby, someone who needs looking after. Both my brother and sister have always been very supportive and loving. As a tot I was always hopping from my bed and creeping into theirs if I got scared or had a bad dream. I was never thrown out. I remember Paul once saying he enjoyed these times because he could protect his little brother. Helen remarked that she loved it because I was like a warm, wriggly little teddy bear. Even as I’ve gotten older they seem to still think of me in this way – I’m still their baby brother. Both they and my parents are highly protective of me and I’m so glad to live in such a loving household. # Monday and another school day; I arrived and everyone was laughing and pointing at ‘Baby Dick’. Even my close friends were smiling and nodding as if they were in on some fantastic secret. I was soon to find out what they all knew and I didn’t. Posters of me wearing the disposable, with a very yellow front, which I’m sure had been photo-shopped, had been erected around the school yard as well as on some noticeboards in school. It took the teachers sometime to collect them all and then the inquest started. Of course I accused Cudthorpe but he and his friends denied everything, even saying that I’d been spreading lies about them and that they wouldn’t be surprised if I hadn’t done it myself to gain some kind of notoriety. Of course no teacher believed this accusation but, without evidence one way or the other, they couldn’t go any further with mine. However, come break time I was surprised how many people were sympathetic to my situation and thought how brave I was to remain in school. Of course there were still those who were glorying in my embarrassment but because of those who were more supportive I didn’t let them bother me as much. There was a school full of kids now aware that I’d been wearing a nappy, whether they thought it was voluntary or not I don’t think mattered to them. So, as each passed they patted my bum to see if ‘Baby Dick’ was wearing one to school. It got pretty annoying but I was powerless to stop it. I think they were very disappointed when they couldn’t feel any padding. “Baby Dick, why aren’t you wearing your nappy?” Some accused as if they’d been cheated of the opportunity to see for themselves this baby in their midst. “Baby Dick should be in a nappy” was whispered when some people passed by, other times it was hollered across the playground so ignoring it was more difficult. # However, one boy in particular was very sympathetic; his name Quentin, Quentin Timothy Farron to be exact, who was the butt of everybody’s nastiness. He was around the same age and size as me, except where I was blond he was dark, but he’d accrued the accolade of being the school’s BIG SISSY. “Sissy” was spat at him at every opportunity but he didn’t appear to mind, if he did he hid it well. He was gently spoken, unassuming and impeccably dressed... three points that made him definitely, as far as the rest of the school was concerned, a huge certified sissy. Although I knew him as we were in the same class, we weren’t particular friends even though we did have quite a bit in common. Neither of us were good at sport, we couldn’t throw a ball to save our lives, and gym was a constant torture. We were scared of swimming and clung to the floats as if I lives depended on it, which as far as we were concerned it did. We were both unhappy about appearing naked (apart from swimming trunks) in public and always wrapped a towel around us when we changed. We preferred our own company but were frequently disturbed by other kids and older bullies venting their hostilities on us. Quentin had a good way of scaring his adversaries off... he just screamed as loudly as he could until, a teacher came. Usually by then his aggressors would have run off so he was left to explain himself to the grown-ups. He would just shrug and go about his business. When I was in a similar position I usually got verbally and physically abused... often punched by these macho bullying kids... but I stayed painfully silent and intimidated. Although few people laid a finger on Quentin, I don’t know if that was because his dad was a cop or what, but even though he was constantly being picked on, he didn’t suffer the bruises I often came away with. Quentin Timothy Farron (or Quite The Fuckup as it said on his monogrammed school bag once) saw the wounded look on my face as everyone around was laughing at the poster-sized images of me in a disposable. “This is awful,” he whispered as he nervously approached. “I hope those bullying cunts die.” I was shocked by his language (it was a word I’d heard but never used and in fact I wasn’t sure what it meant). His mother was well known in the church group and his father was high up in the police force, so it came as a bit of a surprise he even knew such an expression. He patted my shoulder. “I hope you’ll be okay...” And that was it as he drifted off to class. For a bullied sissy he certainly carried himself well; no cowering, trying to hide away. He had a certain elegance; from his pristine school uniform and well-polished shoes, right through to his quiet but determined personality. He was the only one who actually seemed genuinely upset on my behalf and I appreciated his bravery in even speaking to me at that point. # That night I wasn’t sure if word about the incident would get to my parents so I decided to get it out in the open and tell them what had happened. They were suitably angry with the victimization and the cruel ‘prank’ that had been played on me. They wanted to make a big deal about it, threatening to complain to the school and taking issue with Cuddy but I begged them to let it drop. Paul wanted to beat Cuddy up but as much as I love my big brother, I don’t think even he would come off better between Cuddy and his gang. Cuddy was a bully but he was also an out and out thug. All I could see was things getting worse and Cuddy being pleased with himself for thinking he was making my life a misery. He was the type of person, from that type of family, who revelled in their own controversial reputation. No one liked them, and everyone gave them a wide berth, they delighted in their notoriety. The following day and my locker and desk were stuffed full of disposables and an assortment of baby gear. It seemed that a few ‘jokers’ had stolen their baby brother’s and sister’s trappings and loaded it on me. I nearly threw up when I discovered a shitty and soaked disposable shoved in my locker but I didn’t want to give the audience that had gathered the satisfaction. Once again what was meant as humiliation had a very strange effect. I gathered up all the baby products (except the soiled nappy) and piled them into my locker with every intention of sorting through them at home because an idea was fermenting in my brain. I was desperately trying to look hurt and hard done by. I attempted to appear careworn and upset by it all but the truth was, all these things had given me an opportunity; it was an opportunity I was keen to exploit. Once I got home (I walked with friends now) I let myself in and, armed with a backpack full of baby stuff, headed up to my room. I knew it would be an hour or so before anyone else got in so I spread out the contents to examine precisely what my ‘school mates’ had left by way of a ‘joke’. Four Disposables One thick terry nappy One pair of see thru plastic pants 2 Dummies 1 Rattle Set of four large safety pins A toy duck And lastly a bib that had ‘Mummy’s messy girl’ written in white on a pink background (it still had the remains of some child’s meal crusted into it). What a witty lot my fellow students were. #tbc# Part 2 I stood pondering for a little while, wondering if at thirteen what I was planning on doing was a good or bad idea. There was no doubt about it, certain things had been buzzing around in my head for some time now. Whether this was made more apparent because of the ‘Cuddy incident’, or because that merely seemed to confirm something else, I wasn’t too sure. What I did know was that the last few dreams I’d been having all pointed to me wanting to wear a nappy... to be a baby. Oddly, this desire didn’t seem to be that much of a ‘big deal’ to me. Although I hadn’t worn a nappy since I’d been potty trained, my dreams indicated that I wasn’t averse to the idea. Indeed, it could be argued (possibly) that I’d simply been putting off the inevitable. I stripped out of my school clothes and stood for a few moments naked in front of the mirror. I ran my hands over my soft juvenile body and cupped my balls. I have small hands so my genitals felt the right size; warm, smooth and soft resting in my palm. I ran my other hand over my bottom and turned slightly to see what I looked like. It was as if I was looking at myself for the first time with any degree of judgement. In the past it was simply my body and though I lived with it, I had never either inspected it or given it much thought... but now? When I mentally conjured up thoughts of my friends at school I could see the difference in our developments, or rather, my lack of such. Kevin, my best mate, although the same age as me was hairy, well-developed and very much a boy; I, on the other hand, was very much an underdeveloped version of myself and still maintained the supple outline of a child. Perhaps surprisingly, my small, immature physique didn’t worry me… it was just the way I’m made but, nagging away in some dark recess, was an urge… and an urge I was about to explore. # I reached for the terry towel square and folded it like I thought was appropriate. I had never done this before so it was only through having seen such things done on TV that I thought I had an idea about how these things worked. I lay it out on my bed and grabbed a couple of the pins. Pulling it up between my legs I thought the material felt quite rough and couldn’t really imagine a baby liking such a thing pinned around its bits and bobs. I suddenly thought how much more comfy the one I was forced to wear by Cuddy just a few days earlier had been. Despite the trauma at the time I was now comparing that scary and forced incident onto what I was doing myself. It felt really odd, even briefly, to be thinking in such a way but the forced disposable felt a lot softer than the fabric one I was trying to fit into. Eventually, after several unsuccessful attempts, I finally managed to pin it into place. The material felt coarse but, as I lay on the bed, my reflection looked fine. I sat up and slowly waddled over to the mirror for a better inspection. There was no huge bulkiness to it, although I thought the big pins made it look suitably childish, but was very loose and immediately sagged around my hairless knees. I bent down and shimmied it back up my thighs, grasping tightly to the material and wondering how to make it stay up. “The plastic pants help hold it in place.” It was Helen my sister at my bedroom door. Obviously I’d been daydreaming for longer than I’d thought and time had simply slipped by without noticing. I was a little stunned to hear her words, and although I was slightly anxious at what she might be thinking, I really wasn’t that worried about her discovering what I was doing. “I’m not sure I want that…” I said as I ran my hands over the fabric, “these feel really rough.” She came up behind me and looked at all the items laid out on the bed. “More stuff left by the school jokers...” I tried to explain. She nodded and examined the plastic pants. “Not sure if these will fit but…” She picked them up and stretched them as wide as they’d go and spread them out for me to attempt to climb into. They were tight but she shuffled them up my legs and the nappy was gripped firmly and held in place. It was as if she thought a nappy wasn’t a strange thing to see me dressed in. She stood back and inspected her handiwork. “Mmmm, not sure…” she smoothed them out and pushed any of the exposed material behind the plastic cover. “Well, are they comfortable?” # It didn’t even occur to me that Helen had not found any of this process strange. She had seen I needed help and simply pitched in as she’d always done if I was in difficulties or needed a problem solved. She stood behind me and we saw each other in the mirror. Even though she was only a couple of years older than me, she looked so much more mature. I was smaller than her and, with her youthful breasts more than adequately filling the front of her school blouse she looked like a girl bursting into womanhood. On the other hand, the image that stared back at me was that of an immature boy who didn’t look out of place wearing a nappy. The thing was, at that moment, and with my big sister in charge, I wasn’t unhappy about my situation. “I guess all this has something to do with last Friday?” She whispered in my ear. I nodded but added. “Yes but, erm, well, it’s something more… I mean…” I shrugged suddenly unable to voice my concerns. “What is it Mikey… you know you can talk to me about anything.” It’s true I could. In fact, our family didn’t like secrets and more especially didn’t like to see anyone suffer if they could help. My head was a jumble of things to say, though I’m not certain if I could have put it into any semblance of thought. Was I trying to reclaim my independence by showing ‘them’ that they couldn’t intimidate me? Was I using ‘their’ joke back against them by wearing it to prove their little japes had no effect? What was the reason...? “Well,” I pointed to my reflection again, “what do you see?” Helen smiled, “Just my favourite little brother.” She hugged me. “Exactly… little… L.I.T.T.L.E. I’m not growing up…” “But you will Mikey; we all grow at different speeds and…” I know she was trying to be sympathetic but that wasn’t what I wanted to say to her. “Helen, that’s not it. I… I… erm… I… ummm…” She waited patiently whilst I got my thoughts into some kind of order. “Erm… when Cuddy and his friends forced me into that disposable… umm… although I was terrified by it all…errr… when I thought about it… ummm… it wasn’t so... bad.” I was watching Helen in the mirror to see how she reacted to what I was saying. She sighed and then ran her hand over my plastic pants. “Are you saying that you think you might like… this?” “I don’t know. What I do know is that for quite some time now I’ve… I’ve felt like Peter Pan… you know… never gonna grow up.” “Has it been worrying you?” “Well, erm, what has been worrying me is that I’m thinking about it all the time.” As I was saying this I could hear “Baby Dick”, “Baby Dick”, “Baby Dick” being chanted in my head. “I don’t know what to say Mikey.” Nor did I. All I really knew was that Cuddy making me wear what he did seemed somehow to make sense. Although I cried all the way home and was embarrassed by the event… it wasn’t the actual nappy that caused it. It may have been the realisation about me. I looked down at my feet in shame at what I’d just told my sister and I could see my toes awkwardly curling up in the carpet. The dreams I’d been having recently also filled my head and all I could think about were the doctor’s words “He wants to be a baby.” At that same moment, and totally unannounced, I felt a spurt of pee shoot into the front of my nappy. # Where that action came from I have no idea although seconds later remembered that I’d peed in the disposable last Friday without giving it much thought. I felt my nappy grow warm and there was no disputing what I’d done as the front of the coarse fabric began to absorb the liquid and turn a slight off-yellow colour. Helen looked on astonished. “Oh Mikey… have you just wet yourself?” With a shiver of recognition I just sadly nodded. “Did you realise…” I shrugged my shoulders and shook my head. Ever practical, my sister was immediately on the ball. “Look, you can’t stay wearing this…” Again she stroked the front of my slippery plastic pants. “You aren’t wearing any nappy rash cream and if you stay in it too long it will begin to irritate.” Those nights of babysitting the neighbour’s kids were really paying off. She was already pulling the tight-fitting plastic pants down and with them came my soaked nappy. I was like a statue – I just let it happen. I was too stunned to say or do anything but Helen eased me out of the wet things and grabbed a towel from on top of my drawers. She wiped me down and sent me off to the bathroom to sponge myself clean. When I arrived back Helen had found some cream and powder and had a disposable unfurled and ready for me. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea.” I said in a quiet voice as I peered out from behind the thick towel I was drying myself on. As usual my sister was determined and matter-of-fact. “Mikey,” she raised her eyebrows so I knew she meant business. “You appear to be going through some strange shi… er… problems at the moment and if you don’t even realise when you piss your pants, you need to take some precautions until you can work out…” “No, no I’ll be okay it’s just…” “You’re not okay Mikey. Something is happening in your head and until you… or we… can work out what it is… you need to stay protected.” By this time she’d taken me by the arm and led me over to the bed where everything was laid out. “So, for the time being at least let’s get you sorted so we have some degree of control...” # She didn’t finish what she was saying as a look of determination came over her face and started rubbing cream into my tiny penis and balls. This was followed by a blanket of powder (which had me giggling there was so much of it) and finally she taped the disposable into position. Feeling the soft thick disposable being pulled up between my legs reminded me of when Cubby and his mates had done the same – thankfully, there were no slaps or punches. Helen was much gentler. However, the fit was a lot tighter and I could get up off the bed without feeling it was going to fall down at any moment… also I wasn’t crying. She tossed me my pyjamas and indicated I should put them on and even though it wasn’t yet 6pm, I did as suggested. Luckily my pjs were fairly loose and the bottoms easily pulled over the slightly more bulky underwear. However, there was no denying the bulge that now occupied that area. Whereas my usual small genitals hardly produced a tiny lump, now with the padding I’d gained a profile of some distinction. Yep, the baby padding had given me a bulge where I hadn’t had much of one before; I snickered to myself at this apparent contradictory revelation. # Meanwhile she was ploughing through the rest of the items I’d brought home. She tossed aside one of the disposables and the dirty bib. “These will be way too small.” She shrugged as she checked the toys and dummies but after looking at the array of stuffed animals surrounding the room tossed them back on the bed. She picked up the wet nappy and plastic pants and said: “These will need washing and you’ll need a bit more padding so that it doesn’t feel so rough.” I shrugged and nodded, I wasn’t sure what to think but I quite liked my reflection – standing in just my pjs with the obvious lump at my crotch. I ran my hand over it and it felt so smooth; I was grateful for that soft, yet flattering, large bulge. Helen watched as I teased the fabric under my pjs and in all honesty I was enjoying the surprising comfort it offered. I stroked my padded backside and loved the squashy cushion that now made up my rear. “Helen, is it wrong… you know… to… ermmm… like…” “Mikey, we all like different things… I can’t say how mum and dad will react but…” I pulled my pyjama bottoms down and looked more closely at the way Helen had fastened the disposable. I liked the way the tapes dragged the material in tightly over my tummy, I liked the smoothness of the white, shiny, plastic-looking fabric holding me in such a comfortable embrace. My head was full of strange thoughts. Was all this baby stuff from school planned? Was I being led into a state of mind I had no control over? Was I letting my imagination run away with itself? There was no denying liking what I was seeing in my reflection. My small frame seemed to compliment the disposable and a sense of the inevitable shuddered through my body. Why was I so happy about all this? # The nappy and plastic pants had looked good to me but this looked better. I wondered if plastic pants would improve the look but as Helen had them in her hand, and they were on their way to be washed, I didn’t get a chance to check. However, I was very pleased with what I was wearing and couldn’t stop stroking myself and watching my mirror image. The expression on my face was one of wonder and pleasure. Helen watched my reaction for a few seconds before adding. “When everyone is home you need to tell them your thoughts and what’s happening to you.” I looked her in disbelief. “Can’t I just…?” “Look Mikey, this…” and she indicated not only my padded outline but the rest of my room, “is who and what you are now” She paused before she went on. “But, you might feel different in a week, maybe a month or so… and I think you’ll appreciate the family being with you on whatever you decide.” My sister speaks so much better than my mind works. I’d never be able to find the correct words. I’m hopeless at getting my point of view over even in class. I just tend to go along with what everyone else decides but, this was about me and I’d never got anything less than total support from my family. Of course I wasn’t going to argue with Helen; I didn’t argue with anybody, I’d do as I’m told. “I’m off to start making dinner… mum and dad will be home in half an hour,” She heard the door slam downstairs. “Sounds like Paul’s home … I’ll put these on to wash as well” She said as she exited the room waving my wet nappy. I was alone with my reflection. I saw the rattle on the bed and was drawn to it. I’m not sure why a baby should find such entertainment in the noisy thing but after a couple of shakes I grew board. I picked up a dummy and wondered about trying that out. It looked clean enough but I had no idea where it had been so passed on that for the time being. However, surprisingly I found as I was looking around and thinking I was sucking my thumb. I lay out on my bed and found it incredibly easy to relax; there was definitely something about wearing a nappy that made me feel ‘different’. I sucked my thumb more, closed my eyes and just let go. Without any effort on my part I filled the front with a slow warming pee before I drifted off to sleep. # Mum was home first and Helen had a quick chat explaining what she’d discovered with Michael. “I think that incident last week with the school bullies has had more of an effect than he’s letting on.” “Really dear, why do you say that?” She replied whilst taking off her coat and hanging it up in the hallway. She told her about the conversation and what Mikey had said then beckoned her upstairs to see for herself. She was surprised to see her youngest, fast asleep, with his thumb slick between his lips and wearing what was obviously a disposable peaking over the top of his jammy bottoms. After what she’d just been told she was shocked but her heart went out to him. “Poor little mite… he looks so vulnerable.” “Yes,” Helen slipped her finger under his waistband, “and he’s wet again.” #tbc#
  22. Hey, I'm a diaper lover from Louisville, Kentucky. I'm tryna see who is in the area and if anyone is up to meet up sometime.
  23. Hello all. I am a DL/daddy type looking for people with similar interests in Cincinnati, Ohio. If interested, you can message me. I prefer people around my age, younger is a plus.
  24. Teddy Bears It was Pride and I was sitting in a bar with a large group of friends when a sleuth of lovely bears, weighty, beardy and dressed in leather, walked past and, inspired, I just happened to ask to anyone who was listening; “Who still has their childhood teddy bear?” One of the guys who passed stopped and said that most bears still have bears and lovingly treasure them. I happened to mention that he wasn’t the only one as I also still had my own sitting on a shelf in my study at home. Now this may not surprise you but it’s actually in my bedroom but I felt too embarrassed to admit that little fact. The bear said he wouldn’t dream of keeping his anywhere but in the bedroom where, when he falls asleep, it is there to protect him. He explained to the group that as a child his parents had told him that when he goes to sleep, his teddy would be there to look out for him, fight off any monsters and prevent bad dreams. Even now it his age, early thirties, he wouldn’t like to spend a night without being under teddy’s watchful eye. Slowly it emerged that quite a few of our gay number still had their bears and wouldn’t part with them even for the best shag in the world. Well, in truth, it was only one person who admitted to that particular thing, the rest of us decided that it all depended… and we left it at that. It would appear that teddy bears, our bears, are perhaps one of the few things we keep from our childhood. We cling to a memory of that sweet fluffy creature that saw us through every moment of our young life. It offered friendship, comfort, safety and to some protection, when the adult world seemed really gross and scary. We sucked on it as a baby, we hugged it as a toddler and we travelled with it as we grew up - a journey simply wasn’t worth taking unless our best friend, our teddy, was right alongside us. The group then got down to discussing our individual teddies; our childish names for them, how big or small they were, the fur which had disappeared over the years, the repairs that had been made, the clothes we sometimes dressed them in (and some still had them wearing the same outfit) and all the trials we’d gone through with him or her. It was never an ‘it’, it was never an inanimate object, it had a name, it was real and he or she was our best friend. One of our group laughingly suggested that ‘one fine day’ we should hold a teddy bears picnic and bring all out furry friends to meet each other. We all joked about the idea. We all pretended it was a great idea but not really what grown-ups should be engaging in. However, the thought has hit some deep spot in so many people’s psyche, we don't have to be grown up all the time, so that it now looks like we will be taking to a wood shortly and having a picnic surrounded by our most intimate and loyal friends. Do you still have your childhood bear?
  25. The Visit I'd been invited to spend a few days with a friend and his lover who I hadn't seen for quite some time. My mate Luke is 6'3" tall, blond, blue-eyed and gorgeous. His lover is a Morgan, 5'8" stocky and a spunky Aussie who works with him; they are both air stewards. Unfortunately, when I got to their apartment I found a message that said that they were going to be a day late as their flight from Abu Dhabi had been delayed. The life of a flight attendant is often thought of as glamorous, living out of a suitcase and darting off all over the world is pretty thrilling but it can be very disruptive to any kind of routine. This hectic lifestyle means that washing is often left for weeks simply because there is no time to attend to this simple task between flights. To me this was a godsend. I found their laundry basket with all their dirty clothes in it. To be honest… I am a bit of an underwear perv… and I knew that these two only bought designer styles. The thought of rooting through their collection of Boss, Dolce & Cabana, Armani and other designer briefs just drew me in and I was already pulling off my clothes in eager anticipation. I delved deep into that basket hoping that some of these classy items had been waiting for some soapsuds for a good few weeks… I was in for a huge surprise. At the bottom of the basket were several, well-used, cloth diapers. At first I didn’t realise what they were but I noticed the large safety pins on the dresser and put 2 and 2 together, also, as I dug even deeper I came across a couple of pairs of pop-stud sided plastic pants, one pink and one white. I was quite intrigued as I had no idea my friends had this fetish and although I had read about it, it had never appealed to me. However, my curiosity had been stirred, not least wondering which of the two wore the pink pants and who wore the white… or even if that was an issue. I pulled everything out of the basket and sorted the diaper stuff from the rest and couldn’t believe that the whole idea was having an effect in my pants. If my friends were in to it then it couldn’t be bad and I wondered what it would be like to wear a diaper. I stripped out of my clothes and attempted to put on one of their festering diapers. It had obviously been pissed in but thankfully nothing else. I struggled to get it to fit without it, once pinned, immediately slipping off my hips and landing on the floor. Eventually, using a pin on each hip, the stiff fabric held for a short while and I had the idea that, if I put on the plastic pants that would hold it all into place. It did. I looked in the mirror at the ‘baby’ reflected back and wasn’t sure what to make of it all. I tried to imagine what Luke would look like dressed like this. He was a tall guy and I really couldn’t see it, however, the smaller Morgan, I could definitely see him wearing a diaper and plastic pants. The firmness in my pants increased as I thought about it and I decided I’d explore further to see if they had any photos… or anything else to go with it all. The thickness between my legs felt strange… yet despite the diaper not being fresh and clean, there was something very comforting about wearing it. I checked out their closet and on one shelf were a box of disposable diapers, assorted styles and coloured plastic and rubber pants, as well as a stack of clean cloth diapers. Hanging up were a couple of onesies; a blue one with ducks and rabbits all over it, the other a lighter blue, decorated with teddy bears wearing diapers, both had pop-stud fastenings, like the ones on the plastic pants I was wearing, that fastened between their legs. I wanted to see both my friends wearing them - I bet they would look as cute as hell. Their laptop was password protected so I couldn’t check out if they had any images on that but my mind was spinning as I mentally put the two of them in various situations whilst wearing their diapees and onesies. Of course, the more I imagined, the harder I got and the thick restriction of the diaper and plastic pants meant that, although I could get off on the soft, smooth and slippery feel of my protection, my cock had to throb away unmolested… this idea was turning me on even more. To take my mind off of my diapered situation I decided I’d make myself useful and resolved to do their washing so; they would have some clean clothes on their return. I filled the washer/drier, set it going and went off to make myself something to eat. There wasn’t much in the fridge but I found a packet of pasta and a can of tuna so was able to make myself a reasonable meal. Thankfully, being air crew there was plenty of booze around the place so I didn’t want for some heavy refreshment. I ate, ironed the dried clothes and watched TV, all the while wearing just the diaper and plastic pants. I was really getting into the whole ‘thing’ (I wasn’t sure what it was yet) but then, before I went to bed, I decided I’d swap what I was wearing and try one of their disposables and as the packet was already open I assumed they wouldn’t miss one. I un-popped the plastic sides and they fell to the floor, quickly followed by the warm but wet diaper. I hadn’t pissed myself (or at least I didn’t think I had) but my cock had leaked quite a bit and I definitely needed changing. The disposable, an Abena, was a lot easier to put on. The sticky side tapes soon had me all wrapped nice and tight and snug. I checked out the pile of plastic pants and found a pale blue pair with white sort of lacy bits across the bottom, they looked very girly and childish and I thought, with a shrug… “What the hell”. God, my reflection was turning me on even more and although I could have put my hand up the leg or down the front, I really wanted to just have the sensation of not being able to relieve myself. It was like a game… a baby game. I assumed that a baby couldn’t put its hand down and play with itself but it could enjoy the silky sensation of its pants (I know, I know - What kind of baby has these thoughts? But I did say it was a game). I checked myself out from various angles and found that my bulging and well-padded bottom looked fantastic and the thick protection at my groin sort of emasculated me, which again I found a surprising turn on. With my dick leading me, I went to the closet, pulled out the pale blue onesie and pulled it over my head. Then, with a bit of manipulation and some contorting I was able to pull the flap between my legs and fasten the studs together. When I straightened up the onesie pulled tight and gathered the diaper and plastic pants up very close. There was no doubt about it, this was a very snug fit but I quite liked the image of my bare legs, my teddy bear onesie and my diaper and plastic pants bulging out. Not an image I would have even thought about only a few hours earlier but now I was hooked. By now it was getting late so thought I’d change out of it all but then I was struck by the thought of wearing it a to sleep in. I decided I could wash and dry everything first thing in the morning before the guys got home, so no one would be any the wiser. Once in bed the situation got a bit more complex, the outfit seemed too tight to sleep in and my mind was filled with desperately wanting to relieve myself. Sleep was a long time in coming as I thought about all this babyish stuff, my two mates, my apprehension about what I was going to say to them, whether they’d want me involved in their diaper activities… my mind just raced from one situation to the next. Sleep eventually overtook me but the next thing I knew was I awoken with a start. I could hear voices coming from the living room and it didn’t take me long to realise the lads were home... early. They obviously knew I was there because I heard Morgan say how nice it was that I’d washed and ironed their laundry… and there was a little giggle from Luke as he said that there was a lot more stuff to be done now they were home. I suddenly realised what I was dressed in and I could also feel that I had wet myself in the night. Panic was flooding my body like I’d flooded my diaper as the door opened and in walked my two best friends. ===tbc===
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