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Hello everyone......by way of introduction I am a rather content and young feeling senior of 66 who is very comfortable with his diaper happiness. I don't need to wear but I so do love to wear diapers/pullups. And I am not ashamed to admit that I use them as they were meant to be used. Hopefully I will be able to make some new friends here. Have an awesome day out there

So the other day I tried the new Rainbow Pride diapers from The Dotty Diaper Company, and oh my days are they adorable! As a gay girl, I love representing the community, and 5% of sales all go to LGBT causes. As for the diapers themselves, they were a lot thinner than I expected. I've become accustomed to Tykables and LittleForBig recently and the Pride diaper definitely didn't compare in terms of thickness. They were also really quiet - very little crinkling. At first that was sort of a disappointment, but it dawned on me that they would make great out-out-the-house diapers. I am definitely wearing one next time I go to the movies. The tapes were really impressive - LittleForBig's tapes are a little too sticky, so it was nice surprise. But most importantly, they are so AMAZINGLY comfortable! Very soft plastic with a medium-rise. Perfect for everyday wear, IMO. They run really small, so be sure to read the sizing info before ordering. And the shipping is killer. But it was for a good cause and they really are a one-of-a-kind design. They probably won't be a main diaper for me, but I'm always going to keep these on hand when I need to look cute! I really encourage everyone to give them a shot. So Pudding and I wrote a short story about these diapers! Because we were bored and because we could. We hope you enjoy! And anytime anyone makes a smart-ass comment about "the gay agenda" please ask if this story is what they're talking about. Full PDF and ePub versions are on our Patreon, so please consider supporting us! ~*~*~*~*~ The Gay Agenda by Sophie & Pudding "What's that supposed to be?" Charlotte was holding up a plastic rectangle, decorated in ponies and rainbows. It was the third night in a row I was stuck at her house, until my parents got back from vacation. I was eighteen - there was absolutely no reason I couldn't stay on my own - but they were assholes who cared more about the safety of their prized paintings than the comfort of their daughter. Charlotte and I never really got along, maybe because I caught her peeking through my bedroom window with her binoculars two summers ago. Because she's a disgusting pervert. Sharing a room with her was the literal bane of my existence, but hey, what were next door neighbors for? They had to make your life a living hell. "Your dare." Kiara looked blankly and I explained, having to keep my physical embellishments to a single hand while the other held the divisive item in place. "Remember last night, when you said you'd accepted dare and my dare was for you to wear an outfit of my choosing for 24 hours? You remember, don't you?" "Yeah, so what?" "Well here it is." "I'm not playing anymore. I didn't want to play in the first place. And if you think I'm going to dress up like some slut so you can finger yourself later, you're mistaken." Oh yeah, I forgot to mention. Charlotte's a lesbian. I mean, how much of a pervert could she be? Didn't she have self-respect? "I'm going to finger myself later anyway, and trust me, Kiara, I have the internet - nothing you can do or say or wear will ever compare to that." I tossed the plastic at her and then tackled her to the bed when she flinched to catch it. "You're not going to welch on a dare, are you? I didn't take you for a scaredy cat, for a little pansy who doesn't keep her word..." I shoved her off me, onto the floor, and threw the pillow down at her as hard as I could. She stared up at me with the biggest goddamn smile, like I was playing. Could she be that stupid? "Leave me the fuck alone, Charlotte, seriously." "Not until you keep your word." "Jesus Christ, fine, whatever." How bad could it be? "Lay down." She huffed and I poked her right between her cleavage. "You're gonna be wearing this for 24 hours, you need to make sure it's on right." Had she really not realized what I was going to have her wear, yet? "It's a good thing you're so pretty, Kiara, because you're dumb as two rocks." "Lay down? Why?" Had she really not realized what I was going to have her wear, yet? "It's a good thing you're so pretty, Kiara, because you're dumb as two rocks." Charlotte shoved me onto the bed, so I was on my back, and I looked up at her with confusion. And all was fine and dandy until she tugged off my pajama pants, leaving me in nothing but my button up top and purple lace panties. I sat upright and snatched my pants back. "Like hell I'm letting some pervert undress me!” "Shut up." I slapped her on the thigh and pointed at her very sternly. "You'll lay down and be good and stop making this weird, or you'll be in a lot of trouble and trouble is not something you want to be in right now." When she argued, or tried to, I put my finger on her lips. "If you don't lay back and be good, I'll tell everyone that you kissed me, you perverted little dyke." "I didn't kiss you," I said flatly, like maybe she had mistaken me for another one of her faggot friends. But she said: "They don't know that. They only know you spent a week at my house." Well fuck. I sighed and fell back on the bedsheets, looking up at the ceiling. "Touch me and I swear to Christ I'll beat the shit out of you." "Try it." Like it or not, for all her talk, Kiara was no match for me. And she knew it, too. I grinned and pulled down her panties, tossing them aside like they were just contraband, and then began to unfold the diaper. Oh her life was going to be so much better after this... A diaper. A really, really big diaper. Like, one for old people, except it was decorated in rainbows and ponies. She taped it on me and I sat up with a sigh. A dare was a dare. And part of the deal was that no one else could see me in whatever she put me in. I thought she'd pick lingerie or something, but this... "Where do you even buy shit like this? You're such a freak..." "No more curse words, they're ugly." I pulled her top up over her arms, and when I did it, I did it slowly. I made sure her skin touched mine, I made sure my movements were deliberate in the best possible way. I didn't know how long before she'd begin to fall under the effects, but I understood it should have been straight away. This was going to be so fun! "Arms up, come on. I have a top for you to wear, stop fussing." "If anyone sees-" "No one is going to see." I believed her, too. I'd lived next door to Charlotte my entire life. For a sinful pervert, she was very good at keeping her word. She broke one of my doll houses when we were eight years old and she spent every penny of her allowance for the next two months buying me a new one. I guess... well, she wasn't that bad. Until she started acting out on these disgusting desires. So I lifted her top up and I pulled it over her arms. I leaned in close to her to do it and made sure she could smell me; smell my perfume, smell my body, my girlishness, and then leaned away once she was topless. The new top I had for her? It was soft and plush, and had designs of trains and blocks on it, with baby blue hems and snaps on the shoulders. And it would do nothing to cover up her diaper. "You're gonna be so cute." Cute...? She pulled the shirt down over my head and I looked down at the stupid childish attire. I swear... if Charlotte hadn't cut an entire foot off her hair yesterday for a dare, I would think this was going too far. But... well, I didn't think she'd call me cute or anything. Not that I really cared, it just... I looked away from her and pulled out my phone. I needed a distraction. "You don't need that." I plucked her phone from her hands and dragged her over to the mirrors to make sure she could see how she looked. When she did, she froze. She stared at herself. Cuteness. That was one of the three effects. She'd be distracted by herself at first, before her feelings became obsessive. And that would only reinforce the other two effects. How fun! I looked at myself in the mirror, at the eighteen year old girl in a rainbow diaper. The sides were striped with color and the little shirt hardly came down to the waistband. At first I was... shocked. Appalled! Because how dare she! But... I mean... wow. I mean... I touched the mirror - my fingers touching the reflected fingers - and bit my lip. I felt my heart race... what was going on? I did my best to hide my smile and left her with the mirror, plopping down on my bed and watching with contained and dialed-down glee. She was so stinking cute! Soon, she'd just be stinking. But one step at a time for my little indoctrinated. "24 hours, you understand?" "Um... y-yeah..." I stepped away from the mirror feeling dizzy and strange. Feelings I hadn't felt before. Or feelings that were always there, twisted and reformed. Molded, changed, new. I was having trouble making sense of it. "Anyway, uh. I'm gonna watch TV." "Come sit on my bed and watch from here and I’ll do your hair.” I held up my hand with a bunch of hair ties around my wrist like always, and then risked a little condescension. "I'll even let you pick which color hair ties okay? How does that sound, my cute little thing?" Cute. The word rang in my ears. I had been called cute a million times in my life - I was fucking gorgeous! But this was the first time that it seemed to matter so much. I wanted to say no. I should have said no! I didn't need her to do my hair. I didn't even want to be around Charlotte. But... that word wouldn't stop ringing... "Whatever..." "There's a good girl, come on." She crinkled when she moved, every single motion made that sound, and while I thought over time it might fade into white noise, for now it was like angels singing. It meant I'd gotten her. She crinkled as she approached, crinkled as she crawled up onto the bed, crinkled as she sat in front of me, and crinkled as she touched her diaper curiously while watching TV. Me, while listening, I hummed and brushed her hair. Cute, I said over and over in my head. I wasn't even sure what we were watching on TV. Charlotte played with my hair, pulling and tugging it into pigtails, while I ran my fingers up my thighs to the soft plastic of the diaper. Cute. It sure was, wasn't it? I sure was, wasn't I? "I want you to play with your diaper while I do your hair, okay?" She was, anyway, which was why I asked her. Told her, directed her. I wanted her to feel good about it! "Just explore it with your fingers, it's your diaper, you're wearing it for the next little while, so you should get to know it, you should like wearing it." She winced as I pulled her hair tight to start the braid. "Don't tell me what to do," I said sharply, a little annoyed. But my fingers were already against the plastic. It was hard to stop. Soft and fluffy and warm... and cute. So cute. My hair was pulled back into two braided pigtails and Charlotte stood me up. My knees felt like buckling beneath me and my hands were clammy. "I'm going to bed now," I told her simply, assertively. Because I needed to figure out what was going on with me! "Lay with me, tonight. In my bed. It's not like anything bad can happen, your diaper protects you." I was giddy as heck about this! She was so muddled up and mixed up, her head all confused and gummy, and I loved it. I wondered what kissing her would be like, at last. Or rather, having her kiss me. I wouldn't initiate, oh no, it would be more fun if she did. Her hand continued to play with her diaper, as I imagined it would all night until she slept. "Please? You're so cute, I don't want you out of my sight." Cute. My chest bubbled. My heart fluttered. I exhaled, quiet and nervous, and shook my head. It felt like anxiety... warm, hot, anxiety... almost comfortable anxiety. Scary, fearful, comfort. What was happening? I... I didnt understand... "I'm not laying with you, pervert." I decided to be a bit more firm, to see how far she'd argue with me, to calibrate my expectations of things. "You are, you're going to lay with me because you want to." What? What was she talking about? Of course I didn't want to! I... I wouldn't! Right? But I stood there in the middle of the room, like an idiot. Dressed in a diaper. A cute diaper, I reminded myself. A blush filled my cheeks. Just hit her or walk away or... something. But she said I was going to lay with her. Was she wrong? That didn't seem right... "I like your hair the best this way,” I said, to distract her. I’d put her hair in two braids, down over each shoulder, messy and childish in presentation, with mismatched hair ties at the end of each. I wondered how long she'd stare into the mirror this time. "You want me to feel your diaper? It feels nice, so you want me to feel how nice." I held my hand out to her, waiting for her to guide me and obey. I looked at her, confused, and then down at her hand. It feels nice, so I wanted her to feel how nice. Gosh, that made a lot of sense. So I put my hands out to touch hers. My skin on her skin. Her fingers against my fingers. And I took a step back with burning cheeks. My heart was racing... I looked up at Charlotte, unable to understand what I'd just felt. What I... I'd never felt for her. Oh no... "You want to impress me, you want me to see how nice you feel." Her cheeks were the color of Christmas tree decorations, bright red and shiny, and I made the logical connection for her. "You're wearing a diaper. You wear diapers. You like to wear diapers. You don't need to, but you want to, and you love it, you were just to shy to tell me. Put my hand on your diaper." Pretty and pony and rainbows. I want to impress her. I like wearing diapers? I want to. I was too shy... I... I shook my head, but my hands trembled at my side. My head was blurry, foggy, like I was missing all the important details. All I could see was a shadow in the fog. A shadow of Charlotte, and her instruction. Obey. The word sunk into me like a knife in my spine. I felt paralyzed. My hands reached out and took her hand, and pushed it to the front of my diaper. I looked up at her, scared and confused. "Charlotte... I don't know what's going on... please..." "You're just confused, this is hard for you to talk about, you've never talked to anybody about it, but you trust me." Gosh the diaper felt lovely on her. My fingers touched the plastic, material not like any other, and she pressed my fingertips firmer against her. "You're not just a cute face, though, you're not just cute because you wear diapers, you're cuter than other girls that do because you use your diaper. You use it for everything, you choose to, you love it, you're proud to." "I do not! I don't!" I knew this was wrong! I knew she was wrong! Everything about this was a lie! She was lying to me! I didn't wear diapers - this was the first one I'd worn since I was three years old! And I certainly would never want to! I shoved her hand away from me and stormed toward the bedroom door, before a word froze me in place. "Stay!" She was frozen, but only for a moment. "Come back here." She came back to me. She stopped in front of me. I put my hand on her cheek, smiled, and turned her back to face herself in the mirror again. "You've never felt this cute before, and you want to be cuter, don't you? Using your diaper is the pinnacle of cuteness, nobody is ever as cute again as they are when they're children, and this is the apex of being a child. You don't want to be a child, but you want to be as cute as one. Tell me how much it means to you." Fuck you! Wait... that hadn't come out. I said it louder, but it wouldn't leave my lips. I looked at the girl in the mirror, in the rainbow diaper, in the childish shirt, with braided pigtails... and I told the truth. "Being cute... is... is the most important thing in the world," I muttered. "It's so important to me..." And it was. It was so important. I felt tears in my eyes. What was going on?! When did this happen?! "Anybody can be clever, anybody can be rich, anybody can be beautiful, but being cute..." I let my hand rest in front of her, near her diaper, but not touching, inviting her to make the connection. "Only very special people can be cute. Are you special, Kiara?" I nodded my head. Her fingers were so close to the front of my diaper. My diaper... my cheeks turned a darker shade of red. How had I let this happen? Why was this happening? This wasn't right... what had she done to me? "Then you want to set yourself apart however possible, you want to put yourself ahead of the pack, the others who are cute, those special few... those who wear cute tops, those who wear their diapers... you want to, you need to be above them. You need to love your diaper, you need to use your diaper, you need to be taken care of." My fingers played with her hair and she shook her head, but she didn't argue. Like she was just being force fed liquid thru a funnel in her mouth. Like no matter how hard she wanted to deny, it absorbed into her anyway. Her fingertips touched the waistband of my diaper. I exhaled sharply, closing my eyes. But I couldn't keep them closed for long. In the mirror, she stood behind me, running her fingers up my sides, between my legs, and I felt like I was melting into a puddle on the floor. I looked up into her eyes, at her smile, with a warm idea. The same feeling as before. Feelings of... of... "I'm going to make cocoa." I stepped away from her, playing my gambit, I stepped away from her and left her in the mirror to herself. She knew now what being cute meant, what she'd do for it, and what it could do for her. She knew she could have me stay by being cute. I wondered just how deep her obsession had grown. I paced from one side of the bedroom - with the television - the other side - with the mirror. This was insane! I was going crazy! Firstly, I was dressed in a goddamn diaper in the middle of Charlotte Penning's bedroom! And secondly... there was nowhere else I wanted to be. The way she touched me, the way she spoke to me... I felt things that... that... ugh, what was going on! Was it all a bad dream?! I finished making the cocoa after a few minutes. But I waited a full fifteen before I returned upstairs, mugs in hand, to see how things had progressed. It was like an investment! Like a savings bond, maturing, paying dividends, or something like that. The fact I was so incredibly turned on by her was just icing on the cake. I knew what I had to do. I had to confront her. I knew who I was. I knew what I liked and... and who I liked! Whatever was going on, she had a part to play in it. Maybe she had drugged me. Or maybe she had gone into my brain and rewired the circuits, like in those sci-fi movies. But the truth was clear: this was all Charlotte's fault! And when she came in that bedroom door, I was going to give her a piece of my mind! But when she actually did come through that bedroom door, I hesitated. Because even in her pajamas, her hair short and messy, she was the most beautiful person I'd ever seen in my entire life... "I remembered how you don't like marshmallows because they have gelatin in them, so I got these vegetarian ones?" I held up the little baggie in one hand, the two mugs of cocoa in the other. "But then I didn't know how many you'd want, so I just brought the bag with me." I was being sweet to her. Overly. In a way that would normally annoy her. But I knew better than to expect that kind of reaction now - I knew how she'd react to my being sweet. I was giddy at the thought. "Thank you," I mumbled, looking at my feet. We sat together on her bed and watched television, sipping our cocoa. Neither of us spoke. What was I supposed to say?! And what was she supposed to say? I licked my lips, playing with the rim of my mug. "Oh, oops..." I brushed my thumb up her chin where her cocoa had dripped from the side of her lips and then sucked my thumb clean. "You almost made a mess. And not the super cute in-your-diaper kind that you're always talking about wanting to do." ...that caught me off guard. But the motion of her putting her thumb to my lips quickly overwrote her comment. She went back ti sipping her cocoa and I stared dumbfounded at the television. It wasn't much later that the two of us were lying side by side on her bed, but I couldn't think about anything but her... "You're so precious, you know..." I was playing with her hair when I started to talk, but she wouldn't look at me, not yet. I knew what she wanted, I knew about the third Factor she'd crave, and I wasn't going to make it easy for her to deny it! "I've always seen you as cute, even before you started to express it. I knew that about it... I think for always. How cute you are. How cute you want to be, how cute you can be when you stop fighting it." She acted like I had always felt this way. That I wanted to wear diapers. That I wanted to be cute. But it wasn't! I swear, it only just started... didn't it? Why was everything so fuzzy? And the more she spoke, the less sure I was. The more she told me how cute I could be, and the more instructions she'd give... "Lay on your side, like this." "Uh huh..." We were so close, in the quiet midnight hours. Our foreheads almost touched. My heart ached this close to her... "You know, I always wanted to kiss you, Kiara. I always wanted to feel your lips, against mine. I've kissed a lot of girls, but none of them are as cute as you are, none of them wear their diapers proudly, none of them use their diapers like you want to, none of them want to put their hands down my pants and see what all the fuss is about. None of the girls I've kissed are like you. If only you'd kiss me. Kiss me..." I rolled over, faced away from her, counted silently in my head. 1… 2… I climbed on top of her, diaper and all, and rolled her onto her back. And like a flash of lightning, my lips were on hers. Kissing her, over and over, passionate, warm, wonderful... my chest filled with butterflies. My head rang with nice words. And I was consumed. My hands slid up her shirt, against her bare breast, and squeezed it in my palm. Oh I didn't want to, I didn't! But I stopped her. I let her kiss me, I let her ravish me, I let her touch me, and then I stopped her. "Wait." One word. And one word to start the ball rolling. "I don't know if you're cute enough to touch me..." I looked down at her in a panic, absolutely confused. She told me to wait, and I did. My bottom lip quivered and the voice in my head kept telling me that this was the right thing to do. Stop. Wait. This wasn't right! But her final sentence... not cute enough? It felt like I'd been dunked into ice water. Tears filled my eyes... "You'll be cuter if you use your diaper, cuter still if you choose to use, cutest if you use it while you kiss me, while you touch me... and I reward cute girls who go above and beyond." In way of example, I pressed my fingers against her rainbow diaper and pushed firmly. My cheeks were crimson. My whole body ached. For the past hour, I'd had to pee. I knew I could have gotten up and gone to the bathroom. I didn't know how that fit into our dare, but I always had the ability. But I didn't go. I didn't go, because of what she had said earlier. That if I really wanted to be cute... I ran my fingers up her top, lifting it and exposing her breasts. I bit my lip, unable to take my eyes off her form, undressed, waiting... "When you're cute enough to use your diaper, I'll let you kiss my boobs... I'll let you put your lips here," I pointed to my nipple, "and here," I pointed to the other, and smiled. "When you prove to me you're cute enough, I'll make you gay like I am." "I'm not gay," I said, frustrated, as I kissed her lips. As I ran my fingers up her bare chest and over her erect nipples. As I pushed the padding between my legs into her thigh, grinding softly and whimpering into her mouth. "No you're not cute enough to be gay," I taunted her. "Maybe when you diaper is wet you will be, but probably not... not until your diaper is full and messy the way you daydream about. Daydream about it. Daydream about it right now, about kissing me, about kissing my lips and pushing back, about kissing my boobs and feeling your diaper get heavy, about kissing my pretty cunny and pressing your full diaper against my knee. Think about me making you gay, once you're cute enough. My little lezzy girl. Daydream and wet yourself now." I was aroused, and therefore, direct. "You're disgusting," I muttered between kisses. "You're a pervert... you're--" But my kisses stopped. My stomach felt tight. I felt a little dizzy. And I realized why. My body was tense, eager to obey her, eager to... to wet my diaper. And just as I figured it out, just as I screamed out to stop, a drop filled the padding between my legs. Then a stream. Slow, warm, and wet... hissing as it splashed into my diaper and soaked the space between my legs. I stared at Charlotte, with my mouth agape and a blush on my cheeks. It wasn't until I'd finished, when the diaper was sopping and warm, that the humiliation washed over me. What... what had I just done? "You did it!" I pressed my knee up against her diaper, the one she'd be wearing for the next twenty four hours, and I gave her the right feedback. "You're so proud of yourself, it was so hard to take that step and now you have you know you'll do it over and over, whenever you feel like it, to chase that cuteness." And before she could argue, I took her gaping mouth and pressed it to my chest, putting my nipple between my lips while I played with her braided hair. "Look who just got cute enough to be a little bit gay for me. You must be so proud of yourself, I'm so proud of you..." Tears dripped down my cheeks as her breast was pushed into my mouth. Her nipple between my lips. I sucked on instinct, like it was something that never left my coding since the day I was born, and I started to calm down. The feeling of her breast in my mouth... it satisfied a strange part inside me, an old part, and a very new part as well. Then I felt my stomach gurgle in a familiar way. No... why now...? "You're just learning how to be cute in ways you didn't know how before, you're breaking through your little glass ceiling, and you're learning..." It was serene for us both, or at least it was for me; serene in that whole 'I'm fucking turned on' kind of way. And boy was I! Here was my straight girl neighbor sucking on my breast, wearing a wet diaper, and being coded to be proud of herself for it. "I wish you were cute enough to be allowed to kiss my cunny, my little diaper girl... I guess you just don't want to be that cute, huh?" I had never felt so conflicted. Like I was two entirely separate people, inhabiting one body. One part of me, an mature, straight adult, furious and burning with frustration. And the other, in a piss-soaked diaper, and knowing very well what it meant to be cuter. To be enough for Charlotte. Tears dripped on her chest as I wrestled with myself, as the sensations in my stomach built. No, no, no... "If you were cute enough, I'd let you pull down my pants, I'd let you put your face between my legs, I'd let you smell my panties and how wet your cuteness made me... I'd let you take them off me, if you were cute enough." I was mostly winding myself up at this point, forgetting how potent my words were. "If you were cute enough, you could kiss my cunny, you could follow my directions and learn how to be gay, I would teach you how to be a lesbian, if you were cute enough. If you were cute and proud to be cute, I'd teach you how to eat my pussy, I'd convert you to being my little girl-hungry queer, and I'd never let you think of icky boys again, boys don't understand what true cuteness is, only girls do, and especially me. If you were cute enough, I'd convert you now..." I looked up at her with shame written all over my face. A side of me had won. The words she said, the feelings that burned inside me... I never stood a chance from the beginning. I nodded my head and she slipped off her panties. Her fingers wrapped in my hair as I smelled her lust for the first time. As I tasted it. I whimpered and moaned and pushed my face between her legs as hard as I pushed the mess into the seat of my diaper. At first it was hard to defy my years of potty training, but after the first lump slid between my legs, the rest erupted into the seat of my pants. And the room filled up with my stinky shame. Well golly gee, if the fact I had a straight girl who was awful to me ever since I told her I was gay between my legs didn't damn near make me cum, the fact she'd just voluntarily messed herself certainly picked up the slack! I moaned and pulled her face tight to my sex, tender direction given way to uncontrolled lust. "You're so cute and you're so proud of it, you're going to chase this feeling from now on, this level of cute, you'll always feel incomplete unless your diaper is filled, you'll always know you can be cuter, and when you're this cute you'll want to please me." I moaned. Damn I moaned. She smelled foul and I loved it, she was a baby and I adored it, and I told her over and over the moment she licked to my direction, that she was cute now, she was gay now, she was converted now, and she was never happier. Tomorrow might be awkward for her, waking up in my arms, diaper rash awful, smell potent, tongue tasting of my cunny, but tonight.... tonight was amazing. The next morning, I stripped myself of the diaper and showered. I couldn't stop thinking about the night before. Where those feelings had come from. Why I had done what I'd done. I cried, I screamed, I spiraled into depression, all in the matter of one 45 minute shower. I went back into Charlotte's room, dressed only in a towel, to find her still asleep in her bed. I could kill her. Strangle her! Or... or stab her. But I didn't want to. I felt... weirdly fond of her. More fond than I had ever been. And suddenly, I started to feel uncomfortable. Incomplete. I bit my lip and searched through Charlotte's closet, wondering where she'd gotten that stupid diaper in the first place. I found the package - a set of ten - and pulled one out. The tell-tale rainbows and ponies greeted me like old friends. My cheeks burned with pride and I went to wake up my new girlfriend, leaving the package of eight diapers behind. Eight Rainbow Pride diapers, with the slogan: "Proud to be cute, proud to obey, proud of your new sexuality". ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ *Disclaimer: The Dotty Diaper Company’s Rainbow Pride diapers (found on abdlcompany.com) do not actually make you gay. I feel like it’s important that we specify that.

Chapter 1 You lay sprawled, legs resting open naturally to either side of your wet diaper. Cold slender hands slide to take a firm hold of your soft wrist cuffs to transition them with a click to the locking clips by your shoulders. This was standard practice of all households enrolled in the program; although for you, it was almost unnecessary of course since by now you’ve learned it’s better to lie still. A pacifier nurses in and out of your mouth as the first tapes are ripped free by the practiced hands of your Civil Caregiver. Today Sammantha appears in no rush. You feel the diaper lowering, slowly, coaxing you to look at the yellow patch between your legs. Your cheeks burn and you look quickly back to the side to ignore the knowing look on your Caregiver’s face. A wipe is dropped dismissively before a hand joins it. A firm hand gathers your ankles and lifts them to reach any wetness that spread to your bottom. A few moments of loud crinkling follows until the brush of your newest diaper is under you. As the first light tap of cool powder begins, the doorbell rings. Samantha pauses mid-shake, the powder bottle hovers poised above you as she seems lost in an internal debate. You were clean and safely strapped down so she didn't see the harm in leaving you. She lowers your legs to either side of your diaper and sets the powder aside to answer the door. “Ms. Withers?” The voice reaches the nursery and you can glance far enough to see a man in a dark suit and tie standing on the doorstep politely removing his hat. “I’m here for a routine inspection of your charge. May I come in?" "Oh, yes of course!" Samantha beams, eager to show him inside. “I’m sorry if I don't shake. I was just dealing with a very full diaper!” Sam was always completely hygienic with your changes of course, but couldn’t pass up the chance to be a little showy. “That's impressive considering Y/N's age and short length of time sentenced to your care." The inspector said, referencing a file and clicking his pen to take note.Samantha excitedly ushers him to your nursery. You still lay dusted with powder caught in the middle of your diaper change. Seeing the man enter, your knees instinctively crunch closed in your concern for modesty. "Nuh huh!" Sam shakes her finger storming right over to you. ”You know that's a no-no! Even when guests arrive. Open!” Sam spanks you, so suddenly and so hard, you flinch against your changing straps and tinkle a little. Samantha despite a fair amount of strain can’t keep her composure and breaks into a fit of giggles at your toddler-befitting accident before grabbing a wet wipe to drag down your front again and dust the spot with another quick cool puff of powder. The inspector nods approvingly. "She seems very far along." he observes, noting the time and incident. “Now, before we go any further. I need to see more evidence of her regularity." He crosses the few remaining steps inside the nursery to inspect your diaper pail. "...My goodness.” He pauses peeking at the taped bundles inside. “Does she really need changes this often?" He sees your used diapers are almost filling the pail to the brim. Undeterred, he begins counting the number of times you've failed to keep clean, tallying each used pair in his notebook before praising the healthy ratio of wet to messy diapers he sees. "That's right.” Your Caregiver gleefully adds with a self-satisfied smile. “She needs her diaper changed after every nap or bedtime; she fills them right up. Doesn’t even notice not even when she's messing." She grins. "Incredible work," the inspector mutters writing that down in his notes as well. "Now what about when she's awake?" "I'm so glad you asked.” Sam intoned with a pompous air and smile. “She ends up having accidents, like you saw, wetting them mostly. I always give her more than the recommended number of chem bottles and fiber feedings so she’s almost always ready to let go. I know it's not strictly necessary, but I just love catching her in the act. One time, I was cradling her in my lap for her bottle feeding, and I could tell she was struggling, so I gave her just the tiniest of presses, and the little girl completely let go! She was wetting her diaper so heavily against me, I wondered if it was even going to hold it all! Speaking of which...” She eyes you trapped on the table. “Let me finish up her change before she might make a mess." She tuts over to you on the changing table and makes a big show of pulling up her big girl's diaper, once so defiant, now being wrapped up in a disposable. "Then can see why you've chosen the thicker variety." the man observes over your caregiver’s shoulder while she readies your diaper’s tapes. "Oh my yes. I can only keep her in the most absorbent overnights." Sam says securing the tapes over your crinkling diaper’s bulk as if to demonstrate. “She is just such a heavy wetter and her messes need somewhere to go." She pinches you, finishing up the last tape seal with a rub. "But I do love how these diapers still come in the little baby prints. Don't you? She really does look like an overgrown baby this way. Yes she does. Yes she does," she coos and tickles you. "And what a good baby you've been! Waiting quietly while the grown ups talked. You didn't even fuss for your paci." "And how is the progress there?" "Let me show you." She deftly procures your pacifier from where it had fallen and slides it between your resigned lips. They see you suckle tentatively at first, then more prominently and Samantha's grin widens. She leans in, praising her well-trained suckling baby, pressing a hand strategically into your diaper's noisy thickness. She coyly steals a glance at the inspector for his reaction. Needless to say, his eyebrows are high with appreciation as you fidget and turn to hide the heat building in your face. He clears his throat. "Well, I certainly have no further questions." He states tidying up his materials. "Ms. Withers your work here is outstanding. I am recommending you for a higher position in our efforts, and I'm sure our director will want to meet with you," he adds confidently, tucking your folder away and donning his hat. "Oh pish posh." Samantha says bashfully still idly groping at your softly rustling diapered crotch. “Simply following the prescribed number of spankings and dirtying of diapers have gotten us to this point, Mr. Inspector." She smiles. Chapter 2 - A Teaching Moment Locked in your car seat and thickly diapered for what was becoming a lengthy road trip. Your binky rattled with each curious suckle watching the scenery speed past. Your head bobs and eventually the blur of trees lulls you off to sleep. You awake hours later, groggily lifting your head to feel cool air against your thighs and the probing rustles of Samantha’s fingers checking your diaper. She had pulled the car into a rest stop and was leaning through the opened back door for your inspection. "As expected...Come on honey let's get you a new diaper and that stinky one changed.“ You’re confused and burning withshames, but she simple repositions your clothes over your used diaper and unbuckles you from your car seat. Your packed diaper bag is already waiting for you by the curb. She takes your hand, but your head shakes ever so slightly. "...Are you telling Mommy no?" She warns. You nervously look past her again at the crowded rest stop full of proper citizens happily picnicking and enjoying the springtime sun. But one more stern look from your caregiver and you slide yourself out from the car. She walks you past the chatty vacationers towards the public restroom, swinging your packed diaper bag over her shoulder and tugging you along in tow, waddling and struggling to keep up. Some onlookers paused their conversations to snicker at your pacifier and your struggles to walk some even outright laughed noticing your loaded seat was most likely to blame. Samantha drags you inside the woman's restroom to its designated diaper changing counter. She unfurls one of your Issued changing mats to place your mushy pants on top of. She babytalks gleefully proudly pulling down your outergarments, and opening your diaper to reveal your mess. "Phew. I'm glad we stopped when we did or this would have gotten ripe honey. You're also so soaked!" Your cheeks flared. It was still so difficult to accept you were filling your diapers without any indication, but only while you slept! She pushes your legs up to your chest causing your hips to rock back off your dirty diaper to remove it. She dumps it neatly into the restroom's fragrant pail, then gets to work cleaning you up with wet wipes. "That's it honey." She coos. "Just lay still so Mommy can clean all your poopy peepee..." She takes her time. Each chilly stroke longer than the last; slowing even further when people start to enter the public restroom, hoping they’d take notice. "My my." An older lady sneers noticing you on the counter with diapers and dirty wipes. "And here I thought they could control themselves." "...Oh no.” Sam chuckles finishing up her last clean swipe. She holds up your next massive diaper for the woman to see; its rounded thickness hangs open bottom heavy in the air. ”See how much protection she needs? And they get put to good use, believe me.” Sam whisks the diaper beneath you, shaking her head like a put-upon mother accepting potty training was never going to happen. The lady puffed with patriotic pride. "See to it.” She sniffed haughtily before thanking Sam for her service and taking care of her own business the grown up way while Sam continued your change with practiced precision. She was just finishing up arranging you bottoms-up for powdering when another woman approached. "Excuse me...” She began. “I couldn't help but notice...I've been thinking of volunteering for the cause myself. Do you mind if I lend a hand with the rest of her diaper change?" Happy to oblige, and eager to recruit Caregiver potential, Sam agrees wholeheartedly. She dusts a few light groupings of powder onto your waiting bottom before passing the bottle on to your babysitter-in-training. “See? Nothing to it. Just sprinkle some more of her baby powder onto her bottom...” Sam prompts waiting for the woman to begin. "...Just like that! You're a natural! You can add a little more powder if you want. Yes, yes, unfortunately for her, that is a small case of diaper rash. We've been on the road so it's hard to change her when she needs it. Go ahead and add lots of powder to keep her dry. Perfect! Now use your hand to rub it in...spread it out evenly...her little bum-bum is so soft all powdered up, isn't it? Now, I'm going to lower her down onto her diaper." Your powdered bottom is soon cradled in soft padding and Sam arranges your legs to allow plenty of room to work. "She's smooth?" The woman asked inquisitively as she fiddled with the baby powder. "Can you imagine if she wasn’t?" Samantha smirked, wiggling one of your lazily hanging toes. "With the amount of poo-poo and pee-pee this one can squirt out, her changes would take hours!" Dustings of powder tickle down with their giggles and side laughter, adding a thin fragrant coating between your legs. You do your best to ignore it, but cool teasing fingers spread the powder all over your diaper area then you hear loud crinkly rustling, and feel the firm press of your newest diaper pulled up tight. "Now we keep it nice and snug. Oh, no pun intended!" Samantha giggles. "These are adult Snuggies diapers. I'm so glad they make them for us. I find they work best for her." A few more giggles and sticky adhesives were required before Samantha finally helps you sit up, crinkling all the while against the counter as she takes your binky. "What do you say now sweetie? Oh, what was that...?” She cups her ear. “I'm sorry dear we couldn't quite hear you. Shouldn't you say something about your diaper? Remember? Use your words..." Finally you just break down and say it. "That's right!" Samantha cheers patronizingly. "Your diapey is all nice and changed thanks to her. We appreciate your gratitude." She returns your binky, pulls up your pants, and takes your hand thanking the woman herself and exchanging contact information before walking you back out to the car. Chapter 3 An industrial complex looms from your vantage point in the rear car seat. The car pulls up to a security gate and a guard steps out to meet you. Sam hands him her ID with a smile. He moves to check the back seat, and upon seeing you, smiles wickedly, hands your authorized CG her ID back and waves her through with a respectful salute. You feel the squish in your pants from your long trip and watch nervously as the car pulls into a parking space. You had fought the urge for as long as you could. You had your wits about you and so could fight, but one miss-timed bump in the road had left you gasping as you sprayed into your thirsty diaper. Sam knew those sounds well and had simply smirked into the rear view. Samantha gets out the of the front seat taking your diaper bag from the passenger and comes back to open up the door to unbuckle you. She keeps a firm grip on your hand as she walks you through large automatic doors and up into a reception area. "Ms. Withers, Welcome!" a beaming young professional greeted with a file folder in hand. She crouches down condescendingly to you. “And who is this? Y/N? They thought she'd be more trouble..." She teased suggestively with a knowing smile back up to your 'Mommy.' "Oh no trouble at all." Sam waved off the compliment. "In fact do you have a place where I can change her? She's always wet after her naps." "You've perfected that technique?" The receptionist asked with a hint of surprise. "She's only a few years younger than you...” She looks down, flipping open your file. “It says here she's soiling her diapers as she sleeps while under your direct influence. I must say, Ms. Withers, your progress is unprecedented." "It's the least I can do." Sam simpered. "It's my civic duty after all, and I've been working on ways to make it happen while she's awake too. That's what her types really need. Sure she can have accidents from what not, but it's more beneficial when she doesn't realize her diaper is, how we say, growing right out from under her.” She grinned down, shaking your hand a little at your shared, but obviously one-sided joke. ”I know certain treatments have been proposed,” she continued, “but I find we as the Caregivers lose too much control over them that way as well. It's so much better when the baby gets commanded. Isn't it honey?” She taps your hand. "I eventually want to be able to snap my fingers and I see her diaper droop, but I understand her kind have been a stubborn nut to crack and we are still a ways away from that ideal." The receptionist smiles. "And that is precisely why we've called you in today, Ms. Withers. We're hoping you can bring new innovations to our program. If you would just follow me,” she holds out her hand. “I'll lead you to one of our examination rooms where you can change her." A maze of stark corridors followed then a steel door was unlocked with the beep of a keycard to reveal a brightly decorated examination room obviously designed to embarrass bigger babies. ”Feel free to use the diapers provided.” The receptionist indicated the stacks. “And of course any of the changing supplies." She added Sam got right to work after expressing her thanks by unceremoniously tugging you up onto the room’s padded table for a change. Just as your nearly leaking diaper was being brought down the receptionist gave a little wave by the door. "Bye bye, Pottypants." She giggled. “Be good for Mommy, okay? I'll be back to check on you in a little while." Quick Note: I was considering reworking this to be a third person story. I'm happy to hear ideas! I almost always edit a few parts after posting.

Hey everybody. I've been living with two issues most of my life. Mild to moderate ibs and lactose intolerance. Lately in the morning the urge to go becomes so unbearable. Sometimes I come close because I usually have to wait an hour for the bathroom to open. Anyway I was thinking about diapering up overnight so I won't have an accident. Maybe during the day too. The urges and cramps aren't just at night, but it's really hard for me to get used to maybe having to wear more soon out of necessity than fun. Sometimes cramp really badly and can barely hold it. However there's such a stigma attached to diaper use. I'm also living with my gf's family (brother and father) So I need help being very subtle about this. Maybe some reassurance... If anyone has stories to tell or any insight please share with me.

The overall experience of messing is enjoyable, but if I had to say, my favorite part is the crinkly sound the diaper makes when you are filling it up. What is your favorite part of messing? Is it the sound, the feeling, the aftermath, or just the knowledge?

I have ultra super thick plastic backed gallon drinking diapers, I have midway diapers like abena L4s, and northshore supreme. What im missing is something I can throw on quickly and rely on like a medium duty diaper. Anyone here a pull up conisour that can help me make a decision?

Someone recently posted a topic about sleeping in nappies and I didn't want to derail that thread even though this is a similar topic: does anyone mess while asleep?

I especially love the poops in diaper

Ainsley's parents could not handle her behavior any longer. she spent her entire senior year of high school skipping class and doing drugs and her mother and father thought it was about time they taught her a lesson. "if you want to be a bad girl

So years ago now I saw a video by an Australian ABDL on Tumblr, his account is deleted now and I can't find the video anywhere!! who laid a nappy out on the floor and pooped at the front of his nappy, he then turned around and procceded to put the nappy on as normal so that the poop was spreading around his groin! I've never done this but was wondering if anyone else has? If so what did it feel like? Would you recommend?

As mom got in the car she said, "be a good boy for your Aunt Sharon!" I was sad and had been crying at the thought of my mommy being away for a whole week. "We will have so much fun!", my aunt consoled. It was certainly not easy for a 5 year old boy to be in a strange place for a whole week. I continued to pout as mommy drove away. "Let's go in and get a snack," Sharon said as she carried my suitcase and put my mom's quilted, baby blue bag over her shoulder. I agreed and took her hand. I enjoyed the graham crackers and apple juice she gave me and I was getting more comfortable. After finishing, she turned on the TV and I sat in a beanbag chair and watched my favorite cartoons, bugs and daffy made me almost forget mommy had left. As I sat and watched I started needing to pee. I didn't know where the potty was and I didn't always make it on time even at home. Aunt Sharon asked me if I needed to potty right after my snack but I didn't need to go then. I kept watching TV. Roadrunner was on and he was my favorite. I waited to long and soon felt a warmness on my crotch and bottom. I kept watching TV. Aunt Sharon came to check on me. She soon noticed my pants were wet. "Uh oh, Dougie, looks like you tee-teed in your pants. Let's get you cleaned up." She led me by the hand around the corner into a bedroom. My suitcase and quilted bag were on the dresser. She went to a closet and took out a plastic mat. It crinkled as she spread it on the bed. She lifted me up and laid me on the

Chapter One "It's a big decision," Claire's mother worriedly commented. "Are you sure it's something you want to do at your age?" she asked, knowing that the answer would be the same as last time, and every time before that, ever since Claire had informed Kathy of her intentions six months ago. "Ugh, yes mum," the nineteen-year-old whined from the other room, exactly as Kathy expected. "Besides," Claire continued, lowering her voice to room temperature as she lugged a box into the kitchen, "It'll only be sixth weeks at a time, at least at first." Claire dropped the large brown cardboard box on the table with what she hoped would be a conversation-ending thud, but was disappointingly a merely a muffled comma. Her mother looked up from her rapidly cooling cup of tea, and was about to begin a new tack when Claire cut her off: "Anyway, it's not like they don't have the internet in Germany! And you know I'll always be a few hours flight away." It was the trip of a lifetime, and what's more, it tied into her studies at university, and so would even count towards her degree! She certainly wasn't going to let her neurotic mother get in the way. Kathy had always been more than a little nervous about Claire's various escapades, even something as little as a sleepover with school friends. Of course, Kathy had a little more reason to be worried than most parents. Claire had been, until the age of about 14, what they used to euphemistically call a 'bedwetter', but in the last few years had become known as 'wetters'. As it became clear that the new generation was increasingly likely to be only fully out of diapers by five, and a significant minority of about 20% were in need of night-time diapers until mid-adolescence, new phrases had begun to creep into common usage. The Government initially used the term "incontinence sufferers", but this was rapidly thrown out by the younger generation as patronising. They then moved onto "those who use toilets less", until settling for the simple, catch-all phrase "diaper wearers". Never one to miss an opportunity, of course, the diaper industry had thrived with this increase in marketing potential. Claire remembered the old "Drynites" brand vaguely, and shuddered at the thought of the unfortunate souls who had to wear them. Flimsy, low-capacity and small, they were quickly replaced by increasingly large sizes of baby diapers, and by the time Claire had finally outgrown her bedwetting, most large supermarkets sold tape-up diapers all the way up to a 32" waist, with capacity and print variations to suit plenty of tastes. Kathy's concern for her daughter was more of a hangover from the perceptions of bedwetters from her day - Claire would always tell her not to worry, as usually at least one other girl would be in diapers at any sleepover. Kathy, however, worried nonetheless, and Claire was quietly grateful. It was better, she thought, to have a mum who cared too much, instead of too little. So, 5 years free from diapers, Claire was here, packing for her first big trip abroad - six weeks working at the University in Cologne! Claire opened the large brown box and began placing its contents on the kitchen table. Books, pencil cases, protractors, notepaper - it was all here, stationary she hadn't needed since school days, neatly packed away by Kathy. Kathy, oblivious to Claire's silent thanks, began to fuss, "Well don't get it all out here! Take it up to your room, that's where your clothes and suitcases are!". Knowing she was right, Claire grunted in annoyed approval and began to quickly place the items back in the box. As she threw in the last pencil case, she felt her hand brush up against a familiar surface - a sort of fine cotton - but ironically she couldn't quite put her finger on what it reminded her of. Eager to escape her now irritated mother, she bustled upstairs, trying hard not to drop her now unbalanced box of school things as she went. Laying the stationary out on the slightly dusty floor of her bright, modern bedroom, she began to make piles - "take", "keep", and "throw away". Ikea pencils went in "throw away", treasured teenage doodles went in "keep", and her best pens went in "take", ready to packed off to Germany. As she reached the bottom of the box, having filled the "keep" pile far larger than her mother would have liked, Claire's hand again brushed up against that family fabric. Curious, she looked into the box. There, at the bottom in the corner, was a solitary diaper. It was clearly unused, and it was clearly hers - first, it was covered in a little blue flower pattern, and second, it looked about the size and thickness of a small parcel, certainly big enough for her 24" waist. Her heart beating imperceptibly faster, Claire reached down and picked it up. First, she went to put it into the throw away pile, "After all," she reasoned to herself, "No one would want one old diaper, and I certainly don't need it". But she stayed her hand, and placed it down in the "keep" pile. "Who knows," she though, "I might need it in the future - maybe I'll get the flu, and won't be able to make it to the toilet". She stood up, and was about to go downstairs when the blue and white diaper, perched on a pile of half-used school books and potentially useful post-it notes, caught her eye one more time. "Well, if I am going to be in Germany for 6 weeks, why wouldn't I need it then? Besides, I don't know what exactly the diaper situation is over there, so it may be the only thing I can find." To be on the safe side, then, she moved it to the "take" pile, ready to be packed. But first she went down stairs for a nice cup of tea.

One day a curious teenager wanders into the woods and fonds a curious cabin. The cabin belongs to a witch! The witch (or wizard!!) a little older than the teen ager. The witch invites the teen in hopes of slowly getting the teenager diaper dependant and like an infant!

When Princess Seraphina's father gets remarried to the Queen of the neighbouring kingdom, Seraphina finally has a new mother. What she doesn't know is that Seraphina, at age 20, is

How many of you diaper lovers or adult babies out there actually USE your diapers?

Hey, so everyone wants a mommy of daddy, but they aren't the easiest to find. I was wondering if anyone into messing who is closeish to Toronto would want to hang out, mess some diapers, watch some cartoons, maybe take turns changing each other?

I stayed little longer than most. My younger brother was born when i was 4 and i guess I wanted to be babied too. I remember getting diapered and being changed. I wasn't potty trained until I was 5 and even after that I had a lot of accidents. Mom constantly reminded me to go to the bathroom and I wet the bed until almost 14. As a 7 year old, I started wanting to be a baby again. I talked like a baby, wanted mom to help with my bath and dressing and even intentially did bad on school work to get attention. Now as an adult baby I look back and think thats how i have always been. Just one time I'd like to be changed and rocked and even nursed. I dont see anything changing as I get older!

I don't remember being changed as an infant or toddler but have vague memories of being in preschool and having accidents and getting changed. I was a bedwetter until age 11 though and I do remember being woken up in the middle of the night and mom slipping off my wet clothes and slipping in to dry ones. A vivid memory stays with me about a car trip with my cousin who was probably 3 which would have made me 5. I remember watching mom change his diaper and maybe being jealous or at least wanting the same attention. A little while later during a stop for food I remember sitting in a booth on my knees and filling my pants and telling mom "I doo dooed in my pants" lol thats what we called it. She went to the car and got a new pair of underwear out of my suitcase and took my cousins diaper bag in to the restroom and cleaned me up. As I got older, I kept having "accidents" usually whlie playing outside or watching TV. Since I was a bedwetter, it was routine for my mom to check for a wet bed and wet pants as soon as i woke up. Even as i approached 10 I would wake up to the feel and smell of a wet bed and lie there and mess my pants then get up and come waddling out of my room to tell my mom or grandma that i had "doo doo". It was embarassing and exciting at the same time...I remember being told to go in the

Hey all, I'm going on a road trip soon and it's probably going to get messy a few times on the journey. I was wondering what you all keep in your diaperbags, especially anyone who has had to change their mess in highway restroom or their car before so I can be entirely prepared. Any tips for the journey itself are always appreciated too. Oh, and if anyone has any bag recomendations that'd be awesome. Inconspicuous bags are alway a plus, but if it's absolutely adorable, I don't mind being obvious.

Hey, so I've been wanting to use castor oil with a diaper sometime soon but after doing some reading online, I'm kind of nervous now. The reason is because people have said the effects of castor oil sometimes lasted for an additional day or two. This worries me because I can't be diapered for that long. So do you think a buttplug would stop the effects of a castor oil mess? If not, please comment any other suggestions on how I could prevent messing myself with the after effects of the castor oil. Thanks!

Hi everyone. Let me start by saying that I am completely new to diapers. I have never worn any, but I hope to in the near future. While I'm new to diapers, I am very familiar pooping. For a long time I've LOVED pooping in my underwear. But they just don't cut it anymore. There's little protection from leaking, which is the biggest problem. So I've come here seeking advice and personal opinions. There's quite a few things I want to ask so please bear with me. I will provide even more details if needed.

I remember when I was younger, I tried messing for the first time and it took forever to clean myself up. Now, though, it's not that bad to clean up my messes, especially when I made the change from baby diapers to adult diapers (which was very recent as well!). I'm starting to get this feeling of not finding messing as exciting. I feel like it'll be exciting if I changed someone else, but the feeling with myself is very, very slowly starting to dwindle.

Ok, so while I adore messing my diaper and don't mind my stink at all, I need a way to hinder or hide the smell. Does anyone know of any good covers I can get and/or diapers that will help bring the smell to a minimum?

Trent Michaels was your average 28 year old guy. He had a good income, and