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Showing results for tags 'poop'.
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From the album: Girls in loaded diapers
Can u change me? My butt feels so wet and it smells very bad in here. -
From the album: Girls in loaded diapers
Horny blackrasbaby poops diaper again. This time she has a saggy diaper instead of a wet one -
From the album: Girls in loaded diapers
Does little baby girl need a changey in her diapey? -
From the album: Girls in loaded diapers
Blackrasbaby poops her diaper, and it's really watery, and smells very stinky -
From the album: Girls in loaded diapers
Dancing around in a full diaper, hot -
Sinopse: Em um mundo de híbridos peludos, Jane, que é uma híbrida de corça, se torna uma estudante de intercâmbio em um país estrangeiro e começa um estágio em um jardim botânico. Infelizmente, porém, sua chefe, uma híbrida de leoa chamada Catharina, aparentemente tinha muito contra sua mais nova funcionária, tratando-a mal e sempre a perseguindo. No entanto, aos poucos, Jane percebe que essa perseguição e parte desse tratamento resultaram em um rumo possessivo e maternal. E para piorar a situação, a descoberta de seus segredos a coloca em um caminho praticamente sem volta. Capítulo 1: Prólogo Bom, eu nunca quis ser assim. Mas nós não escolhemos nossos desejos interiores, certo? De qualquer forma, começou na infância, mais especificamente com... É um pouco constrangedor, mas o que não é constrangedor para nós, quando falamos sobre esse assunto? Eu gostava de palmadas. Testemunhar, na verdade. Uma parte de mim queria receber algumas, mas só de pensar nos meus pais fazendo isso comigo, eu automaticamente descartei. Não por causa da dor, mas por pura aversão a ser tecnicamente quem faz isso. No fundo, eu queria outra figura, uma maternal ou paterna. E eu nunca gostei da dor de outras pessoas ou fiquei feliz com isso, mas... No fundo, algo dentro de mim estava, hum... Animado? Não sexualmente falando. Não sei quando essa parte sexual de uma pessoa é ativada, mas nunca foi sexual, embora eu sentisse um certo formigamento perto da minha virilha, mas nunca tive vontade de me tocar ou algo assim. Com o tempo, comecei a gostar de histórias ou vídeos de palmadas simulando uma surra parental, fraternal ou de um professor, qualquer figura na hierarquia familiar ou posição que não envolva um parceiro romântico. Depois, descobri o termo spanker, que era o que eu sou: alguém com um desejo ou fetiche relacionado a surras. Alguns gostavam de assistir, outros gostavam de ser o disciplinador, havia aqueles que gostavam de apanhar também e outros que não lembro. Até que me deparei com um tópico sobre o porquê desse desejo poder ser ativado: o toque íntimo do disciplinador e do punido, além da atenção e de um certo "cuidado" por querer colocar aquela pessoa no suposto "caminho certo". Quando li "toque íntimo", eu já tinha me deparado com ABDL, mas não tinha me aprofundado muito nesse tópico nem tinha me concentrado muito nele. Mas o que o toque tem a ver com isso? Bem, eu sempre preferi ver e ler sobre palmadas no bumbum nu, como a mão do disciplinador despia o punido para envergonhá-lo e então tocava seu bumbum depois de começar a palmada. Certo, e o ABDL está relacionado a isso? O toque íntimo, a "posse" do corpo da pessoa e a remoção do seu pudor, não lhe lembra a troca de uma fralda? E então me aprofundei ainda mais no ABDL. Também me deparei com os termos Ageplay e Agere, consegui ver a diferença entre os dois e descartei Ageplay, adotando Agere. Deixar para trás as responsabilidades de adulta, retornar aos hábitos de infância e ser cuidada era um desejo que eu não tinha percebido que tinha até aquele momento. Fiquei surpreso por não ter percebido isso antes. Pois enquanto alguns amavam aniversários, outros não gostavam porque ficavam mais velhos e alguns até diziam que era "um ano a menos de vida". Pensei: "Mais um ano em que as pessoas vão parar de se importar e cuidar de mim." Afinal, durante a infância e a adolescência, você não é livre, você é dependente de alguém e as pessoas se importam com você. Mas e depois disso? Você tem que se defender sozinho nessa vida adulta assustadora. Outras coisas vieram de... Bem, gostar de constrangimento, claro, não com uma pessoa real, como ENF... E omorashi devido a ABDL. Scat era algo que eu não gostava, só relacionado a fraldas. Meu dicionário de desejos - digo desejos porque não os considero fetiches, embora eu me excite, mas nunca a ponto de querer fazer sexo ou me masturbar - cresceu. Mas nunca tentei procurar uma "mamãe" ou um "papai". Eu tentei usar fraldas. Minha menstruação sempre foi intensa, o que me fazia às vezes usar fraldas sem elas amarradas na cintura, mas em uma espécie de absorvente. Pensando que estavam completamente seguros, uma vez sentei na minha cama, tirei a calcinha e fiz xixi na fralda. Para meu espanto, vazou, mas felizmente - não sei como - não manchou minha cama, ou pelo menos minha mãe não mencionou. Minha mãe era outra história. Sempre fui desleixada, procrastinadora e preguiçosa. Muitas vezes eu tinha que ser lembrada de fazer coisas básicas como escovar os dentes ou tomar banho, e às vezes eu era forçada a fazê-las porque eu não queria. E quando se tratava de tarefas domésticas, ela nunca insistiu que eu a ajudasse, mas ela sempre me criticava sobre o estado do meu quarto e das roupas. Obviamente, o fato de ela não exigir mais de mim contribuiu para essas características das quais não me orgulho. E, obviamente, por isso, ela sempre acreditou que eu nunca alcançaria a independência, e ela era frequentemente superprotetora. Fiquei muito surpreso quando, depois de estudar muito e conseguir estudar biologia e botânica ao mesmo tempo, consegui uma bolsa para estudar na Holanda. No país onde eu morava, não era incomum que um adulto continuasse morando com os pais; eles geralmente só vão embora depois do casamento. E eu ainda morava com minha mãe - meus pais eram divorciados e eu não tinha um bom relacionamento com ele - então ela estava extremamente em negação sobre eu ir para outro país. Segundo ela, eu não sabia cuidar de mim e muito mais, mas eu era adulta e tinha a palavra final. Então, relutantemente, ela aceitou e tivemos uma despedida agridoce: uma boa oportunidade, mas eu estava deixando minha velha senhora com minha irmã mais velha. Mas é a vida, certo? Depois daquele incidente com as fraldas, só tive mais dois encontros com elas. Um encontro mais seguro: fraldas geriátricas, que roubei duas vezes da minha mãe, que tinha problemas de bexiga, mas, felizmente, ela conseguiu melhorar. Eu me senti culpada por usá-los, pois eram caros e ela os tinha ganhado da minha tia, mas minha mãe tinha muitos, então minha empolgação voltou rapidamente. Decidi ir ao banheiro, o trauma do vazamento me assombrava... Se eu fizesse bagunça no banheiro, seria mais fácil de limpar. Tentei ficar em pé, agachar e nada. Mesmo com a bexiga cheia, nada saiu. Então sentei no vaso sanitário e finalmente saiu. Não esvaziei tudo, com medo de transbordar, mas foi bom finalmente sentir o calor do recheio. Mas eu ainda estava frustrada por não conseguir usar a fralda sem ter que ir ao banheiro. A segunda vez, quando os problemas de bexiga da minha mãe retornaram, já fazia um tempo. E eu tinha começado um hábito nada saudável de encher minha bexiga com água e ler histórias ABDL com a bexiga cheia. Isso gradualmente me levou a não ter mais minha bexiga de aço e a conseguir segurá-la muito bem quando eu estava prestes a fazer xixi. Assim, tive alguns vazamentos na minha cueca, não a ponto de sujar minhas calças, mas a ponto de me deixar um pouco assustada. E com isso, mesmo em pé, ficou mais fácil ir ao banheiro, mas o medo persistente da primeira vez me fez sentar no vaso novamente e evacuar. Isso, claro, foi no meu país de origem. Quando cheguei na Holanda - ou Países Baixos, como é chamado agora - e tive que enfrentar a difícil adaptação, consegui uma pequena cabana - com a ajuda da bolsa - em uma vila perto do jardim botânico onde eu estava estudando e trabalhando. Então pesquisei em fóruns as melhores fraldas e pull-ups para pessoas como eu, e dicas sobre como trocá-las, e usei ambas com moderação. O estágio foi bom, a barreira da língua foi um obstáculo que consegui superar bem, visto que sou extremamente introvertida, tímida e antissocial, ou seja: se eu não falo e interajo com muitas pessoas, não tenho problemas. Às vezes também gosto de brincar comigo mesmo, dizendo que eu era como um bebê tentando aprender a falar minha língua pela primeira vez. Mas nem tudo eram flores, ironicamente para um botânico. Minha chefe, neta do atual administrador do jardim botânico, foi extremamente desagradável comigo. Sempre me supervisionando, me criticando, fazendo piadas incômodas e exigindo muito mais do que meu estágio exigia. Eu estava agora no herbário, analisando uma Belladonna, quando senti uma presença. Suspirei, pensando que era Wilhelmina, mas na verdade era Benjamin, outro estrangeiro que também ganhou uma bolsa de estudos como eu. Virei-me e sorri para ele, ainda tímida, mesmo sendo amigas. Quer dizer... Colegas, já que amigos é uma palavra forte, mas ele sempre tentou superar essa barreira e construir uma amizade comigo. Eu não tinha objeções, mas minha ansiedade social e transtorno bipolar diagnosticado me impediram. Meu humor era volátil e eu era péssimo em interagir com outras pessoas. "Ei Jane, que tal um filme depois do estágio?" Ele perguntou, se aproximando. "Bem... Eu... Hum... Talvez, e..." "Ela não pode." A frase foi dita, e nos voltamos para quem a disse. Catarina Ela se aproximou de nós com sua aura dominante, deixando Ben, o híbrido de urso marrom, desconfortável, tendo que dar passos para trás e ajustar sua postura. Eu apenas desviei o olhar... "Ela estará ocupada. Dei a ela um trabalho para pesquisar e isso levará muito tempo", ela disse. Mas era mentira! Ela não me deu nada. Benjamin assentiu e, com uma despedida cordial, saiu. As palavras saíram da minha boca antes que eu pudesse pensar duas vezes. "Você não me deu trabalho nenhum." Ela se aproximou lentamente, como uma leoa prestes a atacar sua presa. E era extremamente irônico, considerando que ela realmente é uma híbrida de leoa, com suas orelhas e cauda longas. Ela me cercou e minhas orelhas de corça abaixaram em um ato inconsciente de medo. Ela tinha cabelos loiros quase vermelhos, olhos verdes avelã e era alta... Talvez uns 1,70 m? Um rosto retangular, sobrancelhas bem definidas e uma estrutura corporal um pouco gordinha - adjetivo que não vejo como pejorativo - como a Monica Geller de "Friends" quando era adolescente, só que mais magra. E coincidentemente, ela parecia um pouco com a atriz que interpretava essa personagem, e uma mistura de outra atriz que era Sarah Paulson. Ela parou na minha frente e disse casualmente: "Eu sei o que faço. Ele tiraria vantagem de você, como todos os homens." Fiquei confuso. Desde quando ela se importa comigo? E o mais importante: o que ela tem a ver com isso? "Mas eu posso cuidar de mim mesma... E... E..." Eu queria dizer que essa era minha decisão, mas não conseguia falar. Me assustando um pouco, ela me levantou pela cintura e me colocou em cima da mesa. Por um momento, pensei que ela fosse me beijar, afinal, já vi cenas assim em filmes românticos. Mas ela não o fez. "Não. Você não sabe. Você é como uma criança, totalmente desleixada e desajeitada." Se ela não tivesse me comparado a uma criança, o que fez meu lado Agere gritar internamente, eu teria ficado extremamente ofendido, mesmo sabendo que tecnicamente ela tinha razão. "Eu sei o que estou fazendo. Eu sou seu chefe e digo não. Você não irá." "Sua posição na hierarquia não se estende além do estágio." Eu disse, reunindo coragem. E ela riu levemente. "Mas eu posso fazer da sua vida um inferno aqui dentro, está me ouvindo? Se você sair com ele ou com outros, eu vou saber." E então ela foi embora, me fazendo finalmente respirar melhor sem sentir aquela tensão. O pior é que ela estava certa... Ela saberia. Infelizmente, ela morava na mesma vila que eu, em uma cabana muito melhor que a minha, com um terceiro andar que ela usa para observar as estrelas tarde da noite. E se eu chegasse atrasado, ela saberia o que eu fiz, porque o caminho para minha casa passava pela casa dela. Deixei escapar um pouco de xixi da minha calcinha, que escondi bem bem. Ela parecia uma mãe repreendendo e estabelecendo regras para seu filho pequeno. Uma mãe. Ah, merda... Controle-se, Jane!
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Once started this story and sent it out a few places. Going to change the name of some characters and reformat it to be less of an info dump and begin again. Will not let it die and expanded it dramatically from where I had it. Stretched out a lot of the 'info dump' and gave it less of a fantasy fill as best I could without removing the fantasy aspect, lol. Please leave me comments! Chapter 1 - "Honey, it's time to wake up." Came a voice in Kimberly's dream. She wasn't sure what it was, but there was a strentch in this long, dark, black room. She heard the voice again: "Get up, I have to change you before I go into work." She realized who it was this time. "Five more minutes..." She moaned, putting a pillow to her face and inhaling trying to make the smell go away. "No, it's time to get you changed, it will only take a few seconds. Besides, I don't want my big girl to get a rash on her first day in High School, now do I?" Kimberly sighed as she lifted the blanket off of her and woke from the partial dream. She looked around, the light was bright and her mom was standing in front of her dressed up for work, with an Abena diaper in her left hand and rash cream in the other. As she continued to scan her room, she noticed wipes next to her bedside table and plastic pants on top of them. Her mom began to expertly untape the diaper, lifting it into the air and folding it up. The smell didn't bother her, as she began to wipe her daughter's behind, Kim became less aware of her surroundings. She began to drift asleep as her mom lifted her legs as the final layer of plastic pants were applied. She remembered before completely falling asleep that her mom told her to be awake by 6:30, because school starts at 7:37 and that she wanted to make sure she was there on time. In her dream, she noticed one thing immediately: she was in a very messy diaper. She was surrounded by beds in each corner, one of which had a man in it. He was asleep and turned away from her, but she could tell he was a shaggy man, with very long hair and a smell aura that would fend off the most dangerous of creatures; but maybe that was her. As she continued to scan the area, she began noticing how small the room was, and that the only way in or out was through metal bars. She walked forward out of both curiosity and fear. Putting her hand forward, she reached for the shaggy man on the bed; and on touch, he turned around viciously. In one instant, she was surrounded with intimidation and fear. The man had dark black eyes, completely filling them like a expanded pupil. He had a full beard, one that went past his chest, and his breath was that of a man who probably never heard of a toothbrush. As she began filling the diaper in her dream yet again, the man said something in an ancient language, one unknown to her: "Du'ra ducta monare. Du'ra ducta monare." As he continued to speak in the same pattern, a loud "BANG" was heard, but she couldn't shake herself and figure out what it was. In the next few seconds, another "BANG" was heard, this time she realized what it was: her alarm clock. "Mura Poota Kimby, Mura Poota Kim." ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Those were the last words that came from his mouth before she was awoken by another loud "BANG". Boy was she glad to be awake, but as she rose she smelt the exact thing she did in her dream, and something in between her legs squished as she sat up: herself. She looked at the clock: "Damn, it's 9:29." She thought, jumping out of bed. She might of not had time to change her diaper and wash up, but she could at least make the smell be neutralized for the next five hours, or so she hoped. As she poured purfume all over herself, she also through some baby powder down her smelly diaper and also another plastic pant around them. She knew that her diaper would be too thick for jeans, and she didn't have any long skirts around the house, but she had one that would at least cover the diaper and leave her room to walk to school. "Oh, walking.." she thought, that would be a challenge. She put on a very cute tweety bird shirt, and brought her purse with a Abena Diaper and wipes along with her: at least she could get a change at school. Late on her first day back at a public school ever since her car accident two years ago. On the way walking the 4 miles to school, she got many stares and honks as she neared the campus, and she couldn't help but think that her diaper was definantly going to be showing at school. The minute she got onto campus, security came up to her. "Excuse me, can I help you?" The security guard asked. "I believe you can, I'm a new student here at Juan Seguin High and I'm running late. What should I do?" "Well follow me, first we need to get you your ID so you're an official student at the school: we'll do that by heading up to the library.." He paused and sniffed, "Is there something wrong?" "Not at all, please, keep going." "Okay, as i was saying, after that we'll get you down to your assistant principals office which, wait, what's your last name?" "Moore," she said, "Kimberly Moore." "Okay Kim, your counselor is Mr.Devans , please, follow me." She already knew this day would be hell, and if they keep her this busy she might not be able to get to the restroom to change her diaper. Then she thought about the privacy at where she was...How would she change a diaper this dirty in a public restroom? She knew she was in trouble. As the security guard walked her down to the library, they came to an elevator. She didn't think there was an elevator, as the school isn't that big. "Uh, can we please use the stairs?" She asked, afraid the smell of her diaper could be too much for the unsuspecting man. "Don't worry! I let all new students use the elevator for the first day they're here." She gulped and bit her lip hard as she entered onto the platform and the door shut behind her. Luckily the man's nose was stuffed up, as he even sneezed a few times and sniffed, to no apparent notice of the emulating smell coming from the thing under her skirt. The door opened and she rushed off of the elevator, just to run into the janitor, trip, and fall down the green circle patterned flight of stairs right across from the elevator door. Luckily, she landed on her butt, damaging nothing physical except for her pride, and the preperation she made for the smell of her diaper: Now she knew she was in for it. The security guard rushed to help her up, and as he bent over, he noticed the smell. "Ha, i guess the janitor isn't doing a very good with the bathroom downstairs." The janitor remarked, she fake smiled at him and sat up lifting off from her butt. If it was smell free then, it most definitely isn't now. Her face was red, which matched her red hair almost perfectly. They walked a few doors down to the Library, and spoke with Mrs.Gorman, the leading librarian. She began to set everything up, and asked her to sit down on this 2' tall stool, which looked rather small. Yet again, Kim gulped and prepared herself for the worst. The security guard beside her backed up, as he was sure his nose was acting up again because of the smell traveling to him. Kimberly looked as if she would cry as the picture was about to be taken, and Mrs.Gorman snapped the photo. "This is an interesting picture..." Said Mrs.Gorman, as it printed out on off her computer. She handed it to Kim, and she was surprised! Even though she was on the verge of tears, she looked beautiful. She was 4'11" with long, red hair and the best looking brown eyes you could ever see. However, when she looked down she saw what she was afraid of: The dark brown spot covered by a yellow plastic pant showing to the camera. This scared her, but as far as she could tell, Mrs.Gorman didn't notice. She walked out and told the Security Guard she could handle herself from here, but he insisted to escort her. As they were walking, wet farts could be heard coming from her behind. Each step she took, another wet fart took place, until all of the sudden she stopped dead in her tracks and began completely pooping herself, yet again. Three movements in less than six hours was fortunately uncommon for her, but the stress she assumed, was only making her incontinence worse. The security guard heard her farting and filling herself at the stop, but he didn't realize what it was. He just assumed her stomache was acting up, so he asked her to walk with him. How embracing, walking and filling her diaper arms length with her new school's security guard. He dropped her into Mr.Devan's office, and completely left her alone. As she walked to the secretaries desk, the three students sitting in a chair a few feet away from her began to sniff the smell, and acted like they were throwing up. She turned beet red, and tried to play it cool. "Hi, i'm new here and I was wondering what I should do to get into class now that I'm late." The secretary couldn't help but chuckle, "Arhem, yes, just show me your ID and i'll send you on your way with a student escort." "Oh, that won't be necessary, I can find my way around easy enough." She said, handing her ID forward. "Sorry miss...Kimberly, but it's standard procedure, i'll have Sara here go with you." She handed Kimberly her tardy pass and sent her off with Sara, who didn't look too excited to be there. As they exited the room, sara began to ask questions. "Okay, so what is that smell?" Sara asked, getting straight to the point. "What smell?" "The one coming from your ass, don't play stupid with me. Did you shit yourself?" Sara practically yelled in the middle of the empty hallway. "What? No! I didn't get a chance to take a shower I just woke up nearly thirty minutes ago and ran up here." Kim responded. Sara scoffed and walked off, leaving Kim to herself in the empty hallway unsure of where to go from here. She almost wanted to follow her but knew better with the way she was giving her attitude. She began walking around the hallways looking for signs of a handicap bathroom, she assumed there would have to be one somewhere. Sure enough after about five minutes of running around she found one but was unable to open the door, finding it locked. "Helloo --- Is anyone in there?" She asked, knocking on the door. No one responded, but she heard ruffling and what sounded like her very own diaper tapes being removed on the inside. Curiosity got the better of her and she walked off to the side of the hallway to wait and peek at whomever was in the room. For two minutes the only sounds she could hear was that of a nearby classroom laughing at something inside and shortly after she heard herself peeing her diaper. As she heard the sound that was unmistakably that action, she looked and saw that her plastic pants were doing their job as they began to fill up with urine. All of the mess would have had to push it out. She was nearly at tears now and just as if on queue the person in the bathroom walked out. It was Sara. Kimberly stayed quiet and as Sara walked to the other side of the hallway, Kim came across the corner and tip-toed into the bathroom trying to avoid leaking any pee into her shoes from the plastic pants. She got into the bathroom and locked the door, being hit by an unmistakable smell of a dirty diaper, but it was not hers. It was sitting in the over-sized trash can in the corner of the room along with a few other adult diapers and paper towels. Kim smiled to herself as she realized the reason Sara ran off was because she thought it was her own mess that she could smell, and apparently it was as well as her own but she was more than likely none the wiser. She slightly arched her back to remove her shoes as she did not want to criss cross her feet and risk spilling anything from the diaper and pant combination. She successfully removed her socks and shoes and placed them in the corner away from her. She tip toed across the room and stood right above the toilet and dropped her plastic pants. Most of the urine that was in it landed in the toilet, some falling to the other sides of the toilet but a much easier clean up than it could have been. From there she practiced for the first time in a long time to remove her diaper and change herself. She hardly ever did it as her mom did most of her changes for her after spending the majority of the last two years at home nursing her body back to good health. As she had the both the pairs of pants off and the toilet clean she laid on the cold tiled ground in the bathroom and began to remove the tapes to her drowned diaper. As she began attacking the mess with her wipes she remembered to that night when she had the tragic car accident.. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Her dad was driving the family's Ranchero, a car they hardly took out but he insisted that they "go out in style" that night to the movies. It was the typical family night and it being Kim's turn to pick the activity she wanted to go see Step Up 2. On the way there, they seemed to hit pretty much every green light humanly possible and were making good time for the 7:05 showtime. As they got closer to the highway, Kim remembers tensing up. She was always scared of the on-ramp as there was always tons of traffic moving and it was always of concern to her. She relaxed as her dad was able to make the merge and was only a few exits away from the location. She remembered sighing as they were exiting the ramp with the theater directly in front of them when a big truck rear ended them and pushed them into the right-away ramp and they were swiped on by another vehicle. Her dads side took the entire blow, while her mother and herself were on the other side of the car. The entire vehicle shook and she blacked out. The last thing she remembered was getting the news that her dad did not make it from her mother who looked to be in perfect health outside of a few minor scratches and a cast. Being in a hospital bed looked down on by her mother was something she wouldn't be able to get off her find for a few months, especially with all of the pysical therapy she was going through trying to improve her leg strength. The doctors told her she suffered a minor lower spinal injury that would result in temporary loss of urinary and bowel control as well as little to no control over her legs. But with proper training, she would have control back. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ She snapped back into reality as she heard a loud bell ring over the speaker. The second class of the day was getting out and she was still covered in filth. She sped up her cleaning process and after about a solid twenty wipes she felt she might have been clean enough. She folded up her diaper and threw it in the trashcan, then laid back down on her second diaper. It was then that she noticed that she forgot to bring the powder that she had poured into her plastic pants to help the smell from coming out as she was rushing out of the house. She cursed herself for forgetting and knew she would not smell very good throughout the rest of the day, but at least she was somewhat fresher. She stood back up, laid her skirt back down and then assessed the damage. She knew the plastic pants would do more harm then foul at this point and decided to throw them away. They were smelly and soaked and she had a ton at home. She pulled down several paper towels from the rack and placed them over the messy diaper and plastic pants as an attempt to cover up her shame and put her shoes and socks back on. There was a lot of foot traffic outside and did not plan on braving the chance that some students would get curious and walk in after she left. She waited until the sound of the third bell sounded, announcing the start of the third class. She stepped outside, and went back down to the office. "Hi, kimberly was it? What brings you back down, shouldn't you be in class?" she asked. "Yes, but Sara wasn't able to show me around I think she had to use the restroom, and I never recieved my schedule so I'm not sure about where I need to go." Kim responded, looking puzzled. "Give me one second, let me pull it up for you." the receptionist said, putting her fingers to work and creating an audible sigh of frustration. "You are off to class 205b, chemistry with Coach Bazzle." "Thanks! I appreciate your help. Can I have a pass for class?" Kimberly asked, and immediately recieved a pass and headed on her way. The rest of the day went relatively calm as compared to the excitement she faced at the beginning of the day. The two classes were mainly introductions to the class and pretests to see what the students already knew. Being home-schooled for the last two years, Kimberly knew a lot more information than a lot of the other kids because that was all she really could do for awhile was just read and retain information. A good perk in a bad situation, she thought. Her mind would drift off to Sara towards the end of the day and knew with an attitude like hers it might be a better idea to stay away from her. She just had to know, though, the reason behind her problems as well and imagined that it would start a really good friendship, or so she would hope. With that thought, the final bell rang and she walked out to the front of the school where her mother was there waiting for her in the car with a warm smile.
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"Cody im leaving to go out with my friends to the movies. I'm leaving my magic wand behind. Also don't even think about using it. You arnt ready to learn or cast spells just yet so don't think about doing it alone". Julie yelled out as she left. Cody ignoring Julie's warning decided to practice a little with the wand. He flicks the wand sending a blast of magic from the end, the stray bolt of magic then bounces off the mirror and onto a pack of adult diapers sitting on the floor. Cody then sees the packet coming alive, the packaging rolling and bulging before It rips open. What emerged from the torn package were diapers with what appeared to be cartoon eyes and tongues. The newly animated garments scream out "hungry must have food!!" Cody, not knowing what to do, sees one of the diapers jump, but far too late to do anything about it as he sees that it was jumping at him. Then another after another diaper surrounds him with two of the diapers grabbing the wand, chanting a spell. Then two gloved hands appear along with a bunch of baby supplies floating in midair. Cody, scared not knowing what is about to happen, tries to squirm free of his magical restraints. He starts to almost crawl away but the two hands pull down his pants and undies then gives him a spanking. The hands then have him stand up and one holds him while the other diapers hold his feet. One diaper starts the smile staring at Cody's exposed naked ass and says, "yummy food." It then jumps and holds on to the front of Cody's waist, one of the gloved hands then holds the back of the diaper and another hand comes with baby powder. The hand then starts to powder Cody's ass and the inside of the diaper. Cody can feel the diapers cartoon tongue exploring against his asscheeks and then the tip of it then rims his asshole. Cody starts to squirm and moan as his dick starts to stand up. The diaper says "yummy tasty food and the seasoning powder tastes so good with it". After powdering Cody's ass the diaper then closes up and attaches itself in excitement around Cody's body. The tongue then goes deeper in his asshole, Cody just gets more horny but then feels like he has to poop. The diaper can taste the mess that's coming inside and wants it so bad. The diaper then squeezes Cody's tummy making him desperately have to poop. Cody can't take it then starts to fart and make a big giant mess all for the diaper monster to take. "You're such a stinky dirty boy, you definitely will help feed me and my friends for a long time," the diaper laughs triumphantly. "Get used to us feeding off your poopy butt but don't worry we like to reward our little stinky boy. Allow me to demonstrate". The two hands then push Cody down onto his butt smushing all the poop around his ass. The front tapes of the diaper then open up exposing Cody's dick, one diaper then comes up close by his crotch then spits out its tongue and wraps around Cody's hard-on. The tongue was super wet, Cody then felt it go up and down giving Cody a tongue job. Cody starts to moan and then feels the diaper attached to his butt dig into his butthole once again pleasuring his prostate. Cody then starts to feel the need to cum, the hands then grab a baby bottle and open up the lid. Cody then busts the biggest orgasm he ever made into the bottle, filling it up full, he couldn't believe how much he cummed out. The diapers all smiled then the diaper laughed "such a good boy, now it's time to feed the baby and what better way than a fresh bottle of milk mixed with some protein provided straight from the source". Cody tried to squirm knowing that his own cum was mixed with milk. The hands then approached with the bottle to his mouth. Cody tried keeping his mouth closed but then one of the hands pinched his nose and he was forced to drink his own milk he made himself. The diapers laughed then the diaper on his butt opened up all the way exposing his poopy butt and naked bits. The diaper then shouted "Alright everybody dig in. Enjoy"! All the diapers started to run up to Cody's ass pushing him onto his back with the hands holding his legs up in the air for easy access. All the diapers then started to lick clean his poopy ass and hole. How long would Cody have to endure this with the wand in their hands now. Then Cody hears the door open. "Hey Cody I'm back and oh gosh!! What the heck is going on!! Cody, are you wearing a diaper and ugh don't tell me you've been playing with my magic wand! And what..." Julie stomach gurgles and she moans out, "Ugh why did I eat that big burrito?" The diapers looked at Julie with hungry eyes. The leader of the diapers then laughed and yelled "Oh looks like Cody's girlfriend walked in just in time, we totally forgot about dessert! Anybody who wants her, it's first come first serve so better get to it!" The diapers then run up to Julie and the hands push her down. Pulling her skirt and undies off then grab her by her ankles lifting them up. Then out loud *pffft fart* Julie makes a huge stinky fart that fills the air. All the diapers then smiled and loved it. "Oh my, it smells like fresh roses!" "Omg please me first I would love a taste of that rose bud!" "Smells like she's brewing a nice big one. A nice poopy Supreme!" One lucky diaper then gets its chance and scoops right under Julie's butt "Cody when I get out of this you're going to pa..y..uhh..." Julie was paused from the tongue entering herass while another diaper got on top of her "look another hole I wonder what comes out of there?" The diaper then slipped its tongue in and Star moaned. The diaper smiled "oh wow it's nice and juicy!!" Julie felt her tummy rumble and then the diaper gave her the same treatment that they gave to Cody. Fresh mushy poop came out of Julie's ass and into the open diaper. Then the diaper closed itself and mushed right up against Julie's butt. The leader said "oh bring some of that over here let's mix it with Cody's! The two hands then pushed Julie and slid her on her butt up to Cody then the two diapers opened up and both stinky poopy diapers then mushed together and both Cody's hard dick and Julie's horny front met together. Then both of their butts met the fate of having to sit in each other's mixed up poopy diapers. Julie then moaned "oh no I have to I have to". Cody yelled out "NO please don't tell me you have to..." *pffft fart*. More mushy poop starts to come out of Julie's butt and floods into Cody's diaper. The diapers got closer together. Rubbing both their stinky butts together. "EWWWW GROSSSS!!" Both yelled out
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Just a short story I posted on FA a while back. I am currently writing another story in this world, so we'll see where that goes, but for now ... ----------- ALL CHARACTERS ARE AGED 18+ Best Day - An ABDL Story I lay in my crib, my eyelids heavy. Above me lies a sea of glow-in-the-dark stars, floating out of reach in the morning light. My nappy is thick around my thighs, my legs separated, pushed apart by the damp padding. It’s quiet, mostly, except for the sound of Daddy downstairs, making breakfast. The smell of warm porridge floats upstairs, under my door, and into my room, and my mouth begins to water. Food soon–it’s a big day ahead, and if I’m going to make the most of it, I need to be ready. I realise I don’t have my dummy, it must have fallen out in my sleep. Groggily, I turn over onto my belly, and come face-to-face with my dummy, it’s rubber nipple touching my nosie. I giggle a little, and suck the nipple until it wiggles it’s way back into my mouth again. Sucky sucky. I need to go wee wee, I can feel it in my tummy. But before I can stop or hold back, my nappy grows warm again, as fresh wetness is added. I could only just about press my legs together before, but it is impossible now. The nappy has soaked my little accident, and it feels so good. I moan happily, alone in my room, and wriggle about against the bed in my very soggy nappy. “Hey there, little one.” I hear, and stop wriggling. My door creaks open, and Daddy is there, standing in the light of the morning sun. “Is someone being a naughty little boy?” he walks over to my crib, and leans against it. He looks down tenderly at me, a little smile on his face. I grow all embarrassed, my face flushed and hot. “No!” I insist, through my dummy, “I a goowd boy!” “Well, my little stinkybutt, we’ve got a busy day ahead, haven’t we? We need to get ready.” I groan. “Can I shtay in bed a wittle wonger?” I ask, but daddy shakes his head. “It’s breakfast time now, and by the looks of it we still need to change your nappy, and get you dressed for the park.” “Is Wosie still coming?” I ask, and daddy smiles again. “She sure is. Think you want to have breakfast now?” he smirks, and I nod with a newfound energy. Daddy releases the side of my crib and helps me out of bed. I tail him with a waddle, comfortable in my onesie and thick night-time nappy, and follow him downstairs into the kitchen, where the smell of hot porridge and honey meets me. My dummy is taken away, and placed on the counter. I sniff the sweet smelling food, even as I’m helped into my colourful wooden high-chair, and my stomach grumbles. I hadn’t realised how hungry I was until now. Once I’m in my chair, Daddy sits across from me. He scoops up some porridge and zig zags the spoon toward my waiting mouth. I focus, ready to eat. “Neeeeoooowww,” Daddy says, mimicking an engine, “Here comes the aeroplane!” I open my mouth wide. The spoon comes at me quick. I’ve done this many times before, every day for twenty six years, but I always seem to miss. Daddy zags at the last minute, just as I go in for the bite. Porridge gets all over my mouth and my onesie. “Oh dear, I should have got you a bib, shouldn’t I?” daddy grins slyly, and I know he’s done it deliberately, surely I’m not that messy? A bib is quickly attached around my neck and I am given free reign over the spoon. The porridge is good porridge, sweet and filling, warm and gooey. Excited to get to the park, and see Rosie, I eat quickly and get a lot down me, but that’s what the bib is for, all that is expected of me–I can’t be trusted to eat sensibly after all. My face is a smeary mess of oat and honey. After I’ve had my fill, savouring the sweet taste of honey, Daddy comes and cleans me up a little. Without warning, he reaches down and squeezes my nappy, and I groan. “Mmmm.” he mumbles. Unsatisfied, he reaches around one of the leg-holes, pokes his finger inside my damp padding. “Yep, you’re soaked. Okay stinkybutt, time for changies.” And he lifts me out of my chair. My mind wanders to the day ahead, to the park, to Rosie, as I’m led into the bright living room. A mat is spread out, plastic and crinkly, and Daddy makes me lie down. “Daddy,” I ask as he snaps open my onesie, “Will Rosie’s daddy be there too?” “He sure will, Dan’s going to be talking with me, while our little babies play.” Daddy says as he enters the routine of morning changes. I see him blush a little. Daddy is the best, taking me to play with Rosie at the park, but I know he isn’t going just for me. I wonder sometimes why he doesn’t tell Dan how he feels, but I never ask him. It’s not my job to worry about such things. Daddy would definitely say the same. I’m too little right now to worry about that. He tears open the sides of my nappy, and hums a song–he does it whenever he’s excited. “What a soggy baby you are.” Daddy says. I look down at the yellowed padding, as air hits my bare waist. The inside is swollen with a night and morning wettings (and maybe a little bit of wee from before bed as well). Daddy says “Well, let’s get you freshened up.” And he begins to wipe my bottom and privates with a wet-wipe that’s cold against my skin. As Daddy changes me I day-dream about the park. I think about the twizzly red slide and how much fun it is to race down it. I think about the climbing frame, and how my nappy swings below me as I climb from bar to bar. I think, eagerly, about the sandbox, my absolute favoritest part of the whole entire park. Crawling about in the sand makes me feel so little, and making sandcastles and shifting sand about, and playing with my plastic car. “Woah there stinkybutt,” Daddy says, holding my legs still, “A little less wriggling please.” “Sowwy daddy.” I say, and try to contain my excitement as much as I can, as difficult as it is, and stop my legs moving. Without a word, Daddy lifts my legs, and knowing what’s next, I help by raising my bottom off the ground. A fresh nappy, all crinkly and soft, is slid under me, along with a generous sprinkle of powder. I suspect Daddy won’t want to change me at the park if he doesn’t have to, not that babies like me can help it of course. He’ll likely just leave me in my wet nappy for longer. I smile up to Daddy and he beams back. A fresh onesie comes next. It’s blue with a green t-rex on the front. “Arms up!” Daddy says and I obey, letting him slide it on me, and pull it around my fresh nappy. Then my dungarees. “Hop in!” Daddy says, and I obey, climbing into the jeans leg-by-leg, and leaning on Daddy’s shoulders for support. He snaps the buttons underneath my crotch together, checks the back is secure, and gives my padded bottom a firm pat. “What a cute butt you have.” he says, and I feel my face grow hot again. Sometimes I wish he wouldn’t do that, especially not in public. Yet, a part of me, deep down, wishes he’d do it more. I was very cute after all. If Daddy says so, it must be true! I am allowed to play in the living room with my toy car for a bit whilst Daddy packs, and makes sandwiches. “Jam please!” I say and he chuckles warmly, spreading far too much jam into my sandwich. When he’s finished I am given my dummy back, and we climb into the car. Daddy straps me into a big carseat, and I am given my fluffy teddy backpack to hold, and I put my red car inside it, whilst Daddy places a big bag with spare changes in the back of the car. Then, we are off. The park we were going to was through town, too far to walk, but close enough so it’s not a long journey. As we drive, my mind wanders absentmindedly to the road around me and all the cars. “Look, daddy! There’s a red one!” I point as it drives past. It matches the little red car I have in my bag. “Good boy!” Daddy says, keeping his eye on the road, “I bet you can’t count how many red cars you see?” “I can!” I insist, “I can count them all the way up to ten!” “Wow, that’s such a big number, I’m not sure you can count that high. You’ll have to show me you can.” I begin counting immediately. “1, 2…” I quickly find the stop-start of the traffic soothing enough that my eyelids grow heavy. It had been a really early start. Perhaps, if I just take a quick nap… “Alex… we’re here kiddo.” Daddy coos gently from the front of the car. Slowly, I open my eyes and begin to rub the sleep out of them. “It’s time to wake up Alex.” “I’m awake Daddy.” I say as I hear the crunch of stones beneath the car. “How many cars did I count?” “Oh, you got up to five! You were half-way there, kiddo.” he says and I grin broadly behind a big yawn. I’m getting good at counting. “Dan says he and Rosie are already here sweetie, see if you can find them while I park.” Immediately I jump up in my seat, suddenly more awake, and a lot more exited. I feel my waist grow a little warm, and realise that my excitement must have made me pee a little, but that’s what my protection is for, after all. I search the car park for Rosie and Dan. As we bump across the uneven surface, I scan each and every car until– “There they are!” I say and point to a man and woman about my age. Dan is tall, taller than Daddy, and his white t-shirt makes him bright in the summer sun. He has a back-pack on, and what looks like a heavy bag at his side, no doubt full of nappy supplies. Rosie, in her denim dungaree-skirt almost matches me, except her shirt is pink and not green. I wave at them as we pass, and they spot us and wave back. Rosie jumps up and down in the air, almost matching my energy. Daddy turns around and parks up next to them. Rosie is waiting impatiently as I leap out without thinking. “Alex!” she shouts back. Normally I’m not a fan of hugs, but for Rosie and Dan, I make an exception. We stay locked for a moment as our daddies greet eachother. “Do you want to go on the swings with me when we get there?” Rosie asks and I nod. “And the roundabout!” I say. “Hey Alex,” Dan says, towering over everyone. He ruffles my hair–I like it when he does that, it makes me feel all small and helpless. I shrink into myself shyly, quietly enjoying the attention. “Look at how tall you are! You must have grown loads since Rosie and I last saw you.” “Daddy says I haven’t.” I pout, “But I reckon I’ve grown a metre since then!” “Wow! A whole metre! I’m sure you have bud!” he ruffles my hair again. Suddenly I feel a tug from behind–Daddy has pulled back my dungarees and nappy. Without a word, he lets go and the elastic in my dungarees snaps back into place. “He’s a little wet, but I’m sure it’ll hold a little more.” “Rosie’s dry as a desert at the moment but…” their voices trail off as me and Rosie lead the way to the park. As we both walk slightly bow-legged from the thick (and already slightly damp) padding between our legs, we catch-up in the way that old friends do. Rosie tells me about their six-month visit to France, where they were helping Dan’s brother move house. “He had so much stuff!” Rosie says, hopping along beside me, “A bunch of old comics and books and things like that. She’s vastly more energetic than me, her excitement bubbling over into movement. I just grin and enjoy her company, and our daddies chatting idly behind us. “Uncle Will was showing me how to speak French too! You wanna hear?” “Sure!” I nod. “Jay sank grenools.” Rosie says it with the confidence of someone who definitely doesn’t know how to speak French. I hear our daddies chuckle from behind, their adult conversation quiet and distant, too important to interest me or Rosie. “That means ‘I have five frogs.’” Rosie says, beaming with pride. “Good girl!” Dan says, and gives her hair a ruffle like he did mine, and Rosie giggles. The park is busy when we arrive, with about twenty other people playing there, their minders sitting on benches at the side, chatting or watching. Most are older than me and Rosie, or about the same age, but almost all of them are dressed in the same infantile clothing. Some wear overalls or dungarees like us. One girl, who looks a little older than us, whizzes down the slide in a big fluffy tutu. Others wear only a t-shirt and nappy as they waddle around. Above us, clouds hover fluffy and white against a deep blue sky, stripes of shade and light move across the park as the clouds move ahead of the sun. There is a nice, cool breeze in the warm summer air. Me and Rosie look at eachother and grin, and almost escape our caretakers, before we’re both grabbed at the arm by Daddy. “Now, now,” Daddy says, spinning me back around. “Make sure you two behave yourselves.” he adjusts my clothing a little, and I can tell he’s giving me a quick nappy check. “Daaadddyyyy.” I protest, but he pulls my dungarees in place and makes sure they are fastened correctly, and finishes with a warm smile. “Boop.” he says, tapping my nose, and I can’t stop myself giggling. “There we are my love, ready to go play.” He gives my padded bottom a playful pat, and I’m off like a rocket. Me and Rosie spend the next hour in our own world. She spins me as fast as the roundabout goes, and I cling on to dear life as she runs beside it. After what feels like forever, I jump off and the world tumbles quickly around me. I reckon I must have peed a little more because when I fall all dizzily to the ground, I feel a squish. However, while my padded bottom survives, my unprotected hand scrapes across the ground. “Owie!” I say, tears building in my eyes, but Rosie knows what to do. She kisses my hand where the boo-boo is, and says: “That’s what my daddy does when I’m hurt, and he says it makes it all better.” And although it still hurts a little, it feels a little better now. We go to the slide, and I play a monster chasing Rosie up and down, and up and down. And then we switch roles, and she chases me, and I push myself down the slide to escape her. “Rawr!” she says with her arms in the air. “Ahhhh!” I half-scream-half-giggle madly. Our daddies talk idly as they push us on the swings. The bucket-swing is designed almost like a high-chair, and the seat comes up between my legs and around my waist as I’m lowered into it. My legs are spread apart, and my nappy is soft beneath me. I see the rush of ground beneath me, feel my stomach backflip as I fall back down toward Daddy and he pushes me back up. I look beside me, and Rosie is a blur of giggles. I look to the sky and feel like I’m flying as I almost reach the clouds, so high up, my feet dangling in the air. I feel so big, and so little. I feel so excited and completely at peace. I feel as if I am a part of the world, and have no power to stop whatever happens next, but I don’t mind. Daddy will be there to catch me if I fall. Eventually, as the park begins to empty, we make our way over to the sandbox. “Daddy,” I ask as he bends down to sit on the bench, “Can I have my car now?” Daddy gives a knowing look to Dan, who smiles back, as if they speak some silent language that I have no hope of understanding. “Well.” Daddy says, as he reaches into my bag, “Since you’ve been such a good boy today Alex, I suppose you can have it… Do you want to bring one over to Rosie as well?” I nod, and he pulls out two small plastic cars, red and blue. I take both and flop down into the sandbox, sending sand around me like dust. I ask Rosie which one she wants, and she takes a moment to decide. “Ummmm, the blue one!” she says eventually. We crawl about in the sandbox for what seems like hours. I feel the sand between my fingers as me and Rosie race our cars around the edge of the massive pit of sand. Some bright buckets and spades have been abandoned by many generations of visitors, and we use them to make sandcastles. “Here!” Rosie says, “I’ll hold the bucket while you put sand in.” She kneels beside the bucket and I nod, enthusiastically grabbing a spade and shovelling in sand. As we dig, Rosie’s gaze wanders over to her daddy. “Do you think they like eachother?” she asks. “Ummm, I think so.” I say, taking a break from digging to look over. They’re talking, laughing, their hands close to one another’s, so close to touching. “I think they both like each-other, but grown-ups don’t say what they want, they just pretend the other person can read their mind.” “Yeah.” Rosie agrees. “Grown-ups are silly. I really like being here with you Alex.” she smiles. I blush a little despite myself, and grin back. “Me too Rosie, I could do this forever and ever!” We go back to making our castles, and decide to make a wall and split the sandbox in half. One at a time, we fill up a bucket with sand, heave it over to the middle of the sandbox, and dump it in the centre. About half-way through, as Rosie squats down to pat on a bucket with her spade, she goes still. I see her face grow focused and turn red, and she grunts a little. After a little toot, I see the seat of her skirt grow ever-so-slightly. A final sigh reveals what she has done, and she falls back onto her bottom, and into the sand, as if nothing had happened at all. Almost in response, my own stomach cramps, but I ignore it. Why worry about something as silly as that? As I come over, she is patting on her bucket, whilst wriggling a little, a silly smile on her face. I toddle over in my soggy nappy, and flop down next to her. The smell hits my nose almost immediately, confirmation of the fresh mess Rosie has made, and I give her a knowing smile, trying not to laugh. “Hey, don’t be such a stinkybuttface!” she pouts and crosses her arms. “I’m not a stinkybuttface!” I protest, “You’re the one that’s just made a messy!” I can’t hold back a giggle, and neither can Rosie. We both fall into a fit of laughter as Little Miss Smelly and I return to our castle wall. Rosie and I shift sand, and fill buckets, and by the end of it, we’ve split the sandpit in half. I’m on one side, and she is on the other. But we’re not done yet. “Ready?” I ask as I stand ready. “Ready!” she says, and we both count down from three. “3, 2, 1!” we both say together, and jump as high as we can into the air, destroying the sandcastles as quick as we can. We jump from castle to castle, racing eachother to each end of the sandbox. But I don’t quite make it to the end. Suddenly, another cramp hits my stomach and I’m forced to stop and bend over, and fall into a squat. I know what’s about to come, and for a moment, I consider shouting for daddy. But, I know what he’d say: “Just use your nappy, that’s what it’s for.” So, I do just that. Without any more silly adult thoughts, I begin to push. I squeeze out a few farts before the main event. My poopie slowly moves out of me, I feel the end of it like a tail as it pushes against the back of my nappy. I push some more, grunting as the mess slowly fills my padded bottom, dropping into my seat. Quickly my nappy grows heavy. I pee a little too, the front of my nappy grows warm as it soaks up my wee, spreading across the front pleasantly. I look over to daddy, he’s talking in whispers with Dan, their faces close and smiling. But I haven’t quite finished going poopie. I glance over to daddy again, hoping he hasn’t seen me. Unfortunately, he has. I blush, and look away, determined to avoid his gaze as I finish my mess. I glance up again, and Daddy and Dan are on their way over, and I notice they’re holding hands. Daddy smiles broadly as he approaches. “Hey there stinkybutt, are you making a messy?” he says almost nonchalantly. “Nnnn,” I groan, “Noooo...” “Alex, what did we say about potty honesty?” He shoots me a look. I pause. “Are you making a poopie?” he repeats. Bashfully, I nod. “Have you finished?” “I … almost Daddy, nnnnn.” I push again and feel another little load drop into the seat of my dungarees. With a final toot, I say, “Ahhhh, I think I’m finished now.” “Good boy for being honest about making messies!” he ruffles my hair like Dan does, and I fall backwards onto a sandcastle, the sand squishing beneath with my fresh load. “Oh, I think we have another smelly bum over here!” Dan says, giving Rosie’s rear a sniff for confirmation. “Daaaaddddyyyyy…” Rosie blushes deep red, but I know she’s just as proud of her mess as I am of mine. “I think,” Daddy says, “It’s time for changies. Come on, let’s go back to the car.” “Awwwww.” Me and Rosie both deflate. We were having so much fun and now it looks like we’re going home. Even though I want more than anything to keep playing, it had been a long day. Even Daddy’s mention of the car makes me yawn deeply. “Come on.” Daddy says, patting me and Rosie on our mushy tooshies, “Let’s get you two stinky butts in some clean pants.” Me and Rosie hold hands, and hold our Daddies’ hands on either side, forming a chain as we make our way back to the car. Me and Rosie play about a little, dragging our heels, or jumping about, desperate to extend the day just a little bit more. But we arrive at the car all too quickly and suddenly the day has come to an end. “Lay down on the seat here.” Daddy instructs me, and Dan tells Rosie to do the same in their car, opposite. I lay down on a mat he’s spread out, and stare up at the fabric ceiling of the car, as Daddy unties my shoes, unzips my dungarees and takes them off, and exposes my dirty nappy to the world. From his bag, he pulls out wipes and a spare nappy. “Poooweee,” he says, and leans close. With a sly grin, he whispers in my ear, “Someone’s a stinky little boy.” And with that, he begins. Quickly, he tears off the tapes of my thoroughly used padding. He opens it up, revealing my messy bottom to everyone who would walk by. He takes out a wet-wipe, two, and I feel it’s cold touch against my skin for the second time today, as he wipes me down. Eventually, the dirty wipes are piled into my equally dirty nappy. “Bottom’s up.” he says and I raise myself off the mat so he can slide the nappy off and roll it up. In the car opposite, I see Dan finish cleaning Rosie, and he pulls her skirt down to cover her clean nappy. She hops out and watches as my change comes to an end. I see her smile through the gap, mirrored by Dan who stands with his hands on her shoulders. They watch me tenderly, and I feel suddenly sad, not knowing when I’ll see them again. Daddy sees me watching them. “You’ve been a very good boy today.” he says quietly, “And Rosie’s been a very good little girl.” he pauses. I frown as he slides a clean nappy under me, curious as to what he’ll say next. “Did you see me and Dan talking earlier?” he says eventually. “Yes Daddy. You were holding hands.” I smile, he blushes and looks away, and I smile even more, suspecting what they had been talking about. “Well, we were thinking … how would you like it if they came round for dinner? Tonight.” A broad grin creeps across my face. Almost without hesitation I nod excitedly, “Yes, yes!” “Haha, good!” Daddy does the last of the tapes on my nappy, tightening them up so my fresh padding is firm around my waist. He gives the front a pat. We all bundle into our respective cars, I am strapped back into my car seat, and I see Rosie shoot me one last glance from beyond her car’s window. She gets to sit in the front, next to Dan. Within moments, her car slides past ours, and drives away, and we follow. Sunlight sparkles through the trees alongside the road, and Daddy hums some tune I don’t know. I don’t really listen, and his humming becomes another noise in the car, but a noise of comfort, and safety, and love. I only suckle on my dummy, and lay quiet and still and thoughtful, as the car shakes beneath me. As I lay snuggly strapped into my car seat, I imagine tonight, and all the time with Rosie and Dan yet to come. I imagine Daddy and his smiling eyes. And I am truly, utterly, happy. THE END.
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Hi, this is my first post here and i am very excited to share with this community my art. I really love specially poop and messy but no scat Data: *His real name is Dwayne. Originally from Detroit. *Works as a bodyguard for a local boss, using his diaper as a form of intimidation. *Loves wearing diapers, likes the feeling of shitting it out and stretching it out. His current crime boss got him his modified diapers, as he likes Dwayne to stuff his debtors and enemies into his full diaper as a form of punishment. Dwayne is so important in the organization, he has someone to change his diaper between missions and give him delicious food with laxatives. When he misbehaves, his boss forces him to use his diaper as a trash can. *He has a son currently 18 years old named Dwayne Jr, who lives in his apartment, his son is fascinated by his father's fecal power. When he is not working, they both go fishing or Dwayne takes it upon himself to educate him and help him get ahead. *He loves making weird enemas and experimenting with them. His favorite is to wet a spicy burrito and shove it up his butt and absorb it, letting it sit for two days inside his butt and not defecate. It usually hurts a lot when it comes out but it creates the most monstrous discharges from his body (like the one in the picture). *On his days off he also helps out at a local charity. *He likes military clothing, he has many pairs of camouflage pants. He especially loves his heavy boots, which he made himself. *His accent is African-American. My furaffinity account if you want see more: https://www.furaffinity.net/user/osoni-califronia135
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Hi Everyone, this will be my first ever published story. So don’t judge me too harshly. My plan is to ease in slowly and keep it kinda innocent in the beginning. I will however go deeper into themes of regression and humiliation later on in this story and by the end get into quite kinky stuff. But the first few chapters will be for everyone who enjoys diapers in the ABDL community. Enjoy! —————————————————— Tom Watkins, a second-year sociology student at the University of London, was known around campus for his quick wit and lighthearted demeanour. Born and raised in a small town in Essex, Tom moved to the bustling metropolis of London for university, eager to experience life in the big city. His parents, both teachers, had instilled in him a love for learning, curiosity, and an appreciation for good humour. Standing at a modest 5'9" with a lean, athletic build, Tom possessed a boyish charm that easily endeared him to both friends and strangers. His unruly mop of chestnut hair was perpetually tousled, as if he’d just rolled out of bed, and his hazel eyes twinkled with a mischievous glint. Tom played football as a midfielder for the university’s amateur team, the London Lions. Despite his often goofy off-field persona, he was fiercely competitive when it came to the sport. Socially, Tom was something of a chameleon, effortlessly navigating the diverse cliques that populated university life. He was equally at home cracking jokes in the student union bar as he was debating the fiery points of social theory in a study group. He admired the sporty social students on campus, but also related to the shy and socially awkward students sometimes labelled as odd as beneath his confident demeanour he also sometimes felt as an outcast. Tom had a few close friends. There was Sophie, his childhood friend and fellow sociology major, who shared his passion for social justice and often engaged him in spirited debates. Then there was Raj, his roommate and a computer science whiz and Anna, a literature student with a penchant for gothic novels. In his spare time, Tom enjoyed exploring the city. Sometimes he ventured alone, but more often he dragged his friends along on impromptu adventures to discover hidden gems – quirky bookshops in Bloomsbury or late-night food trucks in Shoreditch. He was also an avid gamer, spending hours immersed in RPGs. However, there was one aspect of Tom Watkins that he did not share with the world. Ever since he was little, Tom had been fascinated by diapers. This fascination started as early as when he was four years old. His first memory was feeling envious when, having already gotten out of diapers at the age of three, his family visited their neighbours. They had a two-year-old named Michael still in diapers. Tom couldn’t understand why he felt a pang of longing each time he saw the bulky fabric around Michael’s waist, but the feeling was undeniably there. As Tom grew older, this curiosity didn’t fade. In fact, it became a persistent, though secret, aspect of his life. By the time he was ten, the urge to explore this fascination was overwhelming. He vividly remembered the first time he acted on it. One summer afternoon, while his parents were out, Tom cycled to a store about ten miles from where he lived, his heart pounding with a mix of fear and anticipation. For an hour, he circled the small supermarket, gathering the courage to step inside. Once inside, he looked for the diaper aisle. He must have passed it at least five times, each time barely glancing at the packages on the shelf, trying to figure out if they would fit in his backpack. His palms were sweaty, and his heart raced. When a kind-looking store assistant asked if she could help, Tom’s voice came out in a high-pitched squeak, “Sorry, no, I’m okay.” Finally, summoning every ounce of bravery, he grabbed a pack of the largest Pampers available, their packaging adorned with tiny teddy bears. He walked up to the counter without engaging with the cashier, paid hurriedly, and bolted out of the store. His cheeks were bright red and his heart was ready to jump out of his chest. It was a rush he would never forget. After his purchase, Tom pedalled furiously to a secluded spot in the nearby woods. There, in the quiet solitude, he opened the pack and carefully pulled out a diaper. It felt both surreal and thrilling to hold the soft padding in his hands. He gingerly tried it on, the sensation unfamiliar as he could not remember what it felt like as a baby, yet the feeling was strangely comforting. He wore the diaper for a good hour, walking around and pulling down his pants every thirty feet or so just to check that it was still there. After a while, he felt the urge to pee. It took some time and willpower to untrain his mind to let go, but eventually, he felt the warm stream hit the soft padding. The rush he felt was unlike anything else, a potent blend of embarrassment and excitement that left him breathless. He rubbed his hand against the wet garment, but as he suddenly heard some rumbling bushes next to him, he quickly pulled up his pants and started walking deeper into the woods. He didn’t dare to look back immediately, but when he did, he saw that it was an old woman walking with her dog. That was enough to end his fun, so he quickly discarded the diaper, burying it deep under some leaves before riding home, heart still pounding furiously. There was no doubt in his mind he was hooked. This secret part of Tom’s life became something he learned to navigate with caution and discretion. By the time he was sixteen, his curiosity had grown, and he started wondering if others were into diapers like he was. He still remembers the first time he googled "diapers and adults" and the revelation that he was not alone. Discovering the term ABDL (adult baby diaper lover) was a mix of relief and wonder. There are others like me, he thought. He delved deeper into his online research, finding websites, forums, chat rooms, and specialised web stores with anything and everything ABDL-related. When he saw printed adult diapers in different colours with all sorts of cute prints—unicorns, bears, aliens, princesses, trucks, blocks—his mind almost short-circuited from the excitement. He knew from that moment that his love of diapers wasn’t so weird after all. Now at university, his usual days were what he would call vanilla, consisting of football and socialising, whereas his nights were sometimes spent indulging in this private interest. He had become adept at keeping this “ABDL” aspect of himself hidden, fearing judgement or misunderstanding. He often wondered why he had this fascination for diapers but had come to accept it as just another part of who he was. Despite the secrecy, Tom’s fascination with diapers didn’t affect his personal life. He knew he could balance both lives, never letting his best friends know about his private secret. If anything, this secret made him more empathetic, understanding that everyone has hidden aspects of themselves they fear to share. In the bustling, chaotic life of university, Tom found ways to hide his secret. He had a small stash of adult diapers hidden in a locked box under his bed, something he ordered discreetly online and had delivered to a post box in the city to avoid suspicion. The moments he spent in diapers were rare and carefully planned, a secret ritual that provided a sense of comfort and relief from his busy daily schedule. Over the years, he had also gathered a small stash of other baby items, such as a cute onesie which snapped closed at the crotch with four buttons, and a baby bottle from which he would drink juice or milk. He had also bought some baby pacifiers from the store. However, what he really wanted was an adult-sized pacifier. Now, as a 20-year-old university student, Tom's fascination had also turned sexual, and diaper-wearing would often end in a climactic symphony of his body releasing into his usually wet diapers. He would often sneak out at night with the garbage so that his dorm mates would not see him discarding his used diapers. His diaper desires were a solitary affair for Tom. Except for some anonymous chats online, no one knew about his fetish. He had often fantasized about meeting others; however, he had not yet had the courage to meet anyone from “the community,” as he now called it. But that was about to change. For the past few weeks, Tom had been chatting with an ABDL couple in their 30s. They had connected on a site called diaperfriends.com. The initial conversations seemed promising. Emma and Jake, the couple he was talking to, were friendly and understanding, easing Tom's nerves as they exchanged their first messages. Emma and Jake had a unique and loving relationship. Both in their mid-thirties, they had met five years ago at a local art exhibition in Brighton, where Emma's photography was on display. Emma, with her short-cropped auburn hair, warm brown eyes, and infectious laugh, had immediately caught Jake's attention. Jake, a tall, bearded man with an easygoing demeanour and a love for music and carpentry, had struck up a conversation about the themes in Emma's photos. The spark was instant, and they soon discovered they shared more than just an appreciation for art. Emma’s journey into the ABDL world had begun early in their relationship. She had always, as Tom did, harboured a deep-seated curiosity about diapers and the feeling of being cared for in an intimate, childlike way. One evening, after several glasses of wine and a deep, vulnerable conversation, she revealed her desires to Jake. She explained how she enjoyed feeling small and the comfort that came with it. Jake, who had always felt a strong paternal instinct, was intrigued by Emma's revelation and after some follow-up questions, agreed to let them explore this together. He had always told himself, “Whatever this woman wants, I want to be supportive.” Over time, they explored their ABDL interests together. Emma embraced her little side, finding joy in the regression and innocence of it all. Jake took on the habit of diapering Emma after she returned home from work at her studio. They started buying ABDL items, including a diaper pail for Emma's used diapers, which was one of their first purchases. As Jake was a skilled carpenter, he built Emma baby furniture over the years. The first piece he made was an adult-sized changing table. Emma was so excited when she climbed up on it, with Jake giving her a firm pat on her diapered bottom as she turned around on the table. Nowadays, their home has almost every ABDL-related piece of furniture imaginable. They had even transformed their guest bedroom into a full nursery, complete with a giant crib, rocking horse, bouncer, and, of course, the changing table, which these days was packed with different printed ABDL diapers. Recently, they both felt a shift in their dynamics. Emma found herself wanting to share her caregiving role, and Jake was curious about expanding their caregiving to include another person. They realised they wanted to bring a younger ABDL boy or girl into their lives to be their “little,” as it was called in the community. That's when they connected with Tom on diaperfriends.com. Emma and Jake were open about their desires and experiences, and Tom felt a connection he hadn’t found with anyone else online. He was nervous but at the same time excited about the possibility of meeting them. Their conversations flowed easily. They shared stories about wearing diapers, interests in the baby items they wanted to try, and dreams of being babied. Tom told the couple of his desire to be fully immersed in the baby experience. Emma and Jake were patient in their responses to Tom, never wanting to push him into anything that might make him uncomfortable. Slowly, Tom found himself trusting them more, and the idea of meeting them in person began to seem less daunting. One evening, as they chatted online, a message from Jake and Emma popped up: "Tom, we've really enjoyed getting to know you. How do you feel about taking the next step and meeting us in person?" Tom's heart raced as he typed his response. "I'd like that. I'm nervous, but I think it's time." The couple quickly followed up with a message. "That's perfectly normal, Tom. We'll make sure you feel safe and comfortable. How about next weekend? You could come to Brighton, stay at our place, and we can spend some time together." Tom hesitated for a moment, although deep inside he could not wait to meet Emma and Jake. "Okay, next weekend sounds good," he replied. The response he got was firm yet reassuring. "Great. We'll plan everything out and make sure you're taken care of. We can meet at the coffee shop near the station when you arrive." As soon as he read the message, he remembered, "Crap, I was supposed to go bowling with Sophie, Raj, and Anna next weekend." Now he had to come up with an excuse not to go. He decided to make up an excuse involving a football tournament. Tom texted his friends, "Hey guys, sorry but I forgot I have this football tournament in Brighton next weekend. Won't be able to make it to bowling. Don’t hate me for this" Sophie replied first, "Aww, that's a bummer, Tom! I’ve told you this many times but sometimes you have the memory of a goldfish, you goof!" Raj and Anna followed with similar snappy messages, expressing their disappointment but saying they would manage without him. With that settled, Tom's mind returned to the upcoming weekend. As the days passed, their conversations grew more detailed as they discussed the logistics of Tom’s visit. Emma and Jake's ABDL knowledge and experience were evident in their messages. “Baby, we’ll make sure you have the best time. We have spare diapers for you, so you won’t need to bring any. If you want, you can bring your favourite onesie or pacifier if you have any.” They added, "Remember, this weekend is about you exploring your “little” side. We do, however, wish that you keep an open mind. Hopefully, you will be experiencing a lot of new and exciting things with us." Tom replied, slightly awkwardly, “I can’t wait.” He wished he could have articulated his excitement better. Being someone's “little” was something he had dreamt of for so long and now it was just days away. The night before his trip, Tom received another message from the couple. "Tom, baby, we've got everything ready for your visit." They followed up that message with a picture of printed diapers with balloons, aeroplanes, and boats on them. Tom recognized the diapers; they were from a brand called ABUniverse, one of his favourites. “Trust us, we will take very good care of you ;). We can't wait to see you," the couple wrote. The next day, Tom packed his bag with a mix of excitement and anxiety. He packed his onesie, a generic medical brand diaper, and a baby pacifier in his backpack. As he boarded the train to Brighton, he couldn't help but wonder how this meeting would change his life.
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I'm asking this because I've done this before and will do so again. Has anyone else done this and if so what are your experiences.
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Chapter 1: For Her Good I will add the story here as I can. Full story already available here: https://www.wattpad.com/user/AFictionalPhile and https://www.deviantart.com/afictionalphile/gallery/91841094/for-her-good-15-chapters The problem was that she had three roommates. Yet, Sir always said that never being alone was for her good. Sir said it just like that, in a text message, in response to her worrying. Sir said that life goes on. Sir said that... I will not bury the lead. I will not sugarcoat it. Consent culture rightly necessitates that I lay this more bare than anything. We are trying to change your life. Remind yourself once again, Mari. Are we entering this agreement purely for sensation? It was conversations like these that made Mari blush more than the details of their agreement. Sir's language stripped Mari like she'd brought a bomb through TSA. Sir had so effectively undressed her fantasies and fears, in these months, Sir had so quickly probed and unwound her proclivities, that she still felt like a child going to a parent with something as trivial as a hopelessly knotted shoelace. Except that in the case of Sir, she'd shown up presenting her tangled up psyche. Sir had unraveled her problems just the same. Sir had found her mental G-spot with the precision and command of an award-winning chiropractor. Sir never had to say things like: You will cum for me now. Instead Sir would just say: ahhh...that got you there, didn't it? And Sir, as if they were in Mari's head and not in her phone, would always be right. Big girls would respond with more than just emojis, wouldn't they? Sir's presence was digital yet encompassing. Texted but seemingly scriptural. No manager, professor, teacher, or other esteemed individual in her life had so thoroughly outclassed her. She was a rowboat bobbing beside a cruise ship, when Sir's messages crowned her phone banner. Never before had she been so blissfully cowed. Nothing crossed her mind that Sir had not thought of first. No mental caverns existed that Sir could not, with just a few whispers, lead her out of. I understand what you mean. Know this. You are the brave one. You are facing who you are. Take your sense of unworthiness, Mari. Let us say that you're the fuckup. The dropout, the girl with the dead end job. The under-performer. Let's pretend that your three roommates are indeed smarter, better grown-ups than you. Let us say that you've screwed up every relationship you've been in because you're a needy crybaby. Let's own that, Mari. Let's ball it up – put it in a diaper. Change it often enough and it won't leak. If we do this, perhaps none of your faults will leak into your worthiness either. *** A few days before the beginning of her agreement, the first cardboard box (Sir said that there would be very many), lay unopened beside her bed. The box was tucked between her bedside table and the closet, wedged in the space so that she could not even exit her bed to that side without crushing it. It stood out little among the messiness of her room – another token of fuckupery that even Sir did not know about. Even her roommates called her Monster Mari for the way underwear, socks, and clothes were piled on the floor. At her best, she told herself that it was organized. That there was a method to Monster Mari. At her worst, she knew the panties were going in a shoebox, destined for the mail. For Your Good. Just days away from the beginning of her agreement. Sir's last question burned on the phone. Is this thing we are about to do purely sensational? She shot off a message. "No Sir," she said. She knew it was a little girl's answer, and that Sir wouldn't be pleased. Sir was going to coach her through her fears, once again, and in the end Sir would be right. Mari rolled over and groaned. Sir had owned her orgasms almost since they'd begun messaging. She'd almost begged Sir to take them; without prompting, one night when they were first messaging each other. Before diapers and all that took over their DMs. She'd just asked for permission, Sir ignored it. She'd asked again, hot, her fingers moving fast. The question had prompted another lecture from Sir – one of the hottest things she'd ever experienced. Sir would do no half measures. Sir played no games. Permission now is meaningless without a totality, Mari. And I won't get into something so serious, so flippantly. That night, she'd wanted it. "Can I?" she asked. Again and again. Mari. You can do whatever you like tonight. We can have a serious conversation about it, and I would like to. But we will not have it now. They'd had that conversation just a few days later. Mari, for all her distractibility, for all her reprimands at work for not being on the phones long enough, for not working as hard as she could be, had never been more focused on a thing in her life. Selling her pussy to Sir was a divine urgency; it was the only thing that could get her heart to stop beating through her ribs. She sat on calls at work, at her desk in her Monster Mari room, one hand constantly between her thighs. I have a standard for this, Mari. This isn't my first rodeo. You will only cum with my permission. When I command you to go to your room to play and cum, you will do so. I will not ask when this would be disruptive. Though it may not be what you want, I will always ask For Your Good. Honesty is up to you. You can have sex with any person and any outcome is acceptable, so long as you report it to me afterwards. The last part always struck her as odd. Almost disappointing. She was hoping at least for something savage. Anal chastity, the purchase of some grotesque implement to rail herself on camera. It took her months to test Sir's nugget of freedom. When she returned to Sir with reports of a cocktail-soaked conquest, she was surprised about how happy Sir was for her. "Aren't you...I used YOUR pussy like that? You know?" Use big girl words. "Aren't you jealous?" I get to talk to you as much as I do. You don't know who I am. I have no right to feel jealous. And least of all no cause. I'm proud of you. "But it's YOUR pussy and I just...used it..." It was a guy, right? And he fucked you? "Yah. It wasn't, like, amazing. But yeah." And did he cum inside of you? This sort of question, with anyone else, would have made her roll her eyes. But with Sir it piqued her. She was once again disrobed with a text and it took great discipline for her to not respond with an emoji. "Well...in a condom. But yeah." That's what pussies are for, Mari. I am like an underwriter for your car, if you had one. I would not be displeased if you drove your car. I would, however, like to know if you were spinning donuts in a parking lot with it. Think of it this way. Your pussy doesn't belong to me. Rather, it simply does not belong to you. We do not live in a world where a public pillory to display your entries is safe or acceptable. But know this. The world is a better place when you have been mounted and used. In the same way that the world is better when food is eaten and not left to spoil, just so I hope that those who want to enter you, may. It is the same with your eventual diapering. When the day comes, Mari. You are not giving up your adulthood. You are simply accepting that everyone – everyone – is more adult than you. She remembered thinking about this for a while, and almost forgetting to ask for permission. "Will this be the case when I'm in diapers?" Yes, of course. "Will I get an exception for my diapers when it comes to...sex?" Do you want an exception? "No..." Then why does a little girl ask this question?
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Chapter 1 I came across the ad on a site I used to market my services. I had finished university with a decent degree, but struggled to get a well paid job and had slipped into ‘escort’ work through a friend who was in the same line of 'business'. I gradually started to specialise in kinkier aspects of the scene: partly because the money was better but also because the customers were, on the whole, nicer. I was doing okay, but the ad certainly caught my interest. “Well remunerated, long-term contract for a petit young woman with an interest in submissive role/age play.” I ticked all the boxes. I was only 5’1”, slim and an A cup bra size. I certainly had a preference for the submissive role and had quite extensive experience as a sub. Not so much on age-play, but the thought of it didn’t bother me at all. I called the number and a female voice answered. “Hello. This is Marie, can I help you?” “I’m calling about the advert for a young woman” I replied. “Ah, excellent. What’s your name?” I told her that my name was Louise Howe. “And what’s your current position?” I gave an outline of my current circumstances in terms of work, accommodation, personal life and location. Marie took it all on board and, when she felt the phone call had gone as far as it could, gave me a web link to send a few photos, “just regular pics - no need for nudes - but make sure there’s at least a couple of full length shots”. The next step, assuming my photos passed muster, would be an interview and selection process which would take three days in a location to be advised. I was told that all expenses would be taken care of and a fee paid for my time. The fee suggested was more than I’d earn in a month, so I had no hesitation in confirming my interest. She said I’d hear one way or the other in a couple of days and that was that. After finishing the call I poured a glass of red wine and thought about what had transpired. Marie had seemed nice, her tone had been very matter-of-fact - I could have been applying for a position as an accounts clerk. There was nothing to put me off so I sent off a few recent pics with the details she had asked for and then it was back to work, checking my messages on the adultwork website. A message was waiting from a man in London on business, staying at the Savoy Hotel. He was looking for a submissive and had left a mobile number. I rang the number and he answered straight away. He said he was at the hotel and was ready for a session right now. Charing Cross was about fifteen minutes on the tube so I said I could be there in about half an hour. He agreed my rates and gave me his name, Simon, and room number. He said to go through to the American Bar and call him when there. Before calling off he asked that I wore modest dress, but with a fairly short skirt and I was happy to inform him I’d not need to change! I have to admit that I was feeling pretty good on my journey in. The American Bar is, if a little pricey, fabulous and, with the best cocktails in London, I was hoping for a drink before we got down to business. On arriving in the bar I gave him a call. He was sat at the bar and waved at me as his phone rang. He looked like a nice guy, probably mid-50s, smartly dressed. He offered me a drink and I ordered a Coffee Black Velvet and then we moved to a more private table. After asking about my trip in it was down to business. He said that he wanted me to be his baby for the evening. I’d be wearing and using nappies and, as a baby, have no ‘agency’ at all. I’d be at the mercy of him as my daddy with the backup of a safe word. If I was comfortable with this he’d pay me for an overnight session. If not we’d have a one-hour session and he’d pay me for two hours. I’d had some experience with the adult baby scene before and it had always been fun, so I agreed to the overnight session. We finished our drinks and I went with him to his room. A “Do Not Disturb” sign was hung from his door handle and as we entered the room I could see why. There were packs of nappies, baby bottles, dummies, and clothes. A changing mat was on the bed and there was a cot in a corner of the room. “I told them that my wife and baby daughter might be here this evening, so they made a cot up for me”. I had to admire his preparations. “Time for your nappy, Louise”.
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I'm so curious i was thinking about this for a fic. are there any foods drink that effect your bladder and make you need to go now? i don't know what it is about pepsi but it's always had an effect on my stomach so i rarely have it i'm fine with Coke though. I'm trying to think of other things i think sometimes peanut butter if i have so much and also eating way to fast especially chocolate.
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In a certain sense, incontinence is like an empty gas tank. At some point you're driving and something has to be done about it and if you don't, you're going to be waylaid. Often it's smart to pre-empt the needs of your tank. The only difference is the obvious, that being empty and being full mean quite different things when it comes to gas tanks and diapers. I have, unfortunately, been known to run on fumes. In other senses, incontinence is like trying to keep a sandcastle from slumping and oozing into the dunes of the beach. Too wet or too dry, your magnificent plans are always coming back down to mush. Sometimes I describe it as a constant choose-your-own-adventure picture book. Except that it is one where almost all of the outcomes are bad (LEAKED - WOMP WOMP), where every 'picture' is a dark spot on my ass. I have, unfortunately, been known to be as bad at incontinence as I am bad at continence. But this story isn't about incontinence. Well it is, don't get me wrong. I don't have any stories about myself that don't include a diaper. This is about refilling the tank. This is about keeping the sandcastle up. This is about finding that final, glorious page of the picture book where something other than 'GET WET, LOSER' is written. I live with my boyfriend, whose name is Pete. He likes me for every other reason than my babyishness, but he likes that too. He doesn't mind that I'm too fraidy-scared to drive. He is totally okay that half of our cabinets are filled with sippy cups and disney plates – the ones with the little dividers and princess painted on them. He doesn't mind that I occasionally, without even noticing, shove my thumb into my mouth, though he does make me take it out for a pacifier if I do. He doesn't mind that I screech when I see a bug, though to be fair, who really really likes bugs anyway? It started in the middle of the night. I woke up confused and disoriented. I both knew why I was awake and at the same time, I couldn't figure it out. What was that, down there, on my butt? Is it Pete kicking me in his sleep? Is Gubbles, our cat, making biscuits on my tush? An intruder? Did the pillow get in between us to rest on my butt? What the... I realized that it was what it always was. The mess is what wakes me up. I never awaken with cramps with time to hop out of bed. That would be hopeless anyway. I'd probably just end up elbowing Pete in the face. After that, I'd trip on the covers. I'd step on Gubbles. I'd run headlong into the bathroom door. And despite all of the bumps and bruises and general carnage my midnight rush would cause, my diaper would still wind up heavy. No, any dramatic hope of getting to the potty is beyond me. I'm going to shit the bed and I'm going to find out after the fact. Now, the next thing here Daddy definitely should not know. I went back to sleep. I waited until the movement stopped and then I put a hand down there to feel it. It wasn't a ton. It wasn't anything in the emergency category. It really never is. I wear a special extra pad in the back part of the diaper for exactly this reason, and I usually don't need it. Sometimes I wrongly assess how much poop is really down there. Like I said, I'm not very good at being incontinent. Daddy – Pete – says that I should deal with it anyway, and no matter how disoriented he is, he is always willing to help no matter the hour. I know that I'm supposed to wake him up. But I also know that when poop does wind up in my diaper, like now, I'm supposed to wait. You never quite know when you're done. Well I don't, at least. So I crack my back and roll over to see if the smell or if the sounds of my toots have woken up Daddy, but they haven't. I tell myself I'm going to wait to see if there is more, and then I'll wake him up. I definitely don't want to wake him up for messy diapers twice in the same night, right? He has to work tomorrow, after all. So I wait, knowing full well that no matter how much poop is in the diaper right now, I'll have no trouble falling asleep...if I just don't...close...my...eyes... I wake up sometime later with a foreign hand on my hip. It's pushing me. Why? I wanna be here! Whyyy? Oh. I let it push me on my back. The dream I'm having surges back until I feel a cold feeling on my legs. The jammies are gone. Whyyy? I pull a hand towards my face and it gets most of the way there but then the dreams come back. Something about a beach...sandcastles...sandcastles melting and sand in my diaper... Not sand. I woke up to see Daddy. He's done more than push me on my back and take my jammies off. There is a new diaper on the corner of the bed. There is the powder and the wipes beside it. There is light coming from the lamp by the bed. I'm no longer by the pillows, I'm at the end of the bed. And there is something under my bum and I can feel the edge of it against my back. "Hi," I said. "Hi," he said. And that's all we needed to say. At some point my doodoo must have woken him up. Now my legs were up, now they were down again. In his tiredness he forgot the cold wipe countdown and I squealed. He didn't say sorry, but he put a hand on my tummy and told me that it was okay. I woke up again sometime later. The smell of poopy was all gone. I didn't even remember the rest of the diaper change. I didn't remember him taking the diaper downstairs to the bathroom with the genie. He didn't like putting the dirty ones in the upstairs genie. I don't remember him going in and washing his hands or spraying the febreeze or turning the fan on or opening the window, though now I could hear the constant tread of heavy rubber tires on the street below. I don't remember him coming back to bed, or if he kissed me on the forehead or tummy once as he did. But he was next to me. His back was turned. I moved to snuggle into him. I don't make a very good big spoon but I like to try. As I do, I realize that the butt of my diaper is stiff and bloated. I try to tell myself that it's not bad enough for Daddy to change me before breakfast, but I know that he probably will if he sees it. I fall asleep again and don't wake up until his alarm goes off. I get up fast. I'd fallen asleep too fast during my nighttime change for Daddy to put my jammies back on, so I found them in the laundry basket and put them back on. I realized that they still kind of smelled but I honestly didn't care. Carliah is a pooper, that's what it is, and poopy probably isn't done with me today yet anyway. Oh no. It wasn't. It definitely wasn't. That's why I'm telling this story. I try to sneak out of the bedroom once the jammies are over my diaper. It's even wetter than it was when I woke up and snuggled earlier. Even worse, the pee pee smells because it's been since the evening since I had any wa-wa. Thinking of that, I find my baba on the bedside table and take a slurp. I figured I'd have a quick sip and then go down to fill it with cold water. All so I can stay away from Daddy and enjoy my pee pee diaper for a little longer. But the slurps from the bottle turn out to be an oopsie, and Daddy wakes up. "Come here," he said, after aching and stretching under the covers. His eyes aren't open yet. One of his hands flops to the edge of the bed and beckons me. I try to ignore his command. "Hi Daddy!" I say. "Hi Carliah," he said. "Come here." "I'm thirsty." "Come here." I try to step around him anyway. I don't want a change and I know it's on his mind. My diaper crunches under my jammies, though, and despite his eyes being closed, he can hone in on my location with ease. His hand lashes out and grasps my back until it closes around my wrist. Rats. "Daddy!" I say, trying to sound as meek as I can. It's probably a miscalculation. Sounding small will only make Daddy harder under the covers, and a hard Daddy means, paradoxically, a dry Carliah. At least in this situation. I'm certainly wet in a brand new way as I feel his fingers enclose around my arm. I'm too horny to yank myself away. But I do try to turn towards him. I can feel where the pee is and its where it usually is – in the back. If he's lazy and he just pats the front he might not lay me down on the bed. But even if he's grunting with every movement of his body. Even if every joint cracks as he slugs his way to the edge of the mattress. Even as yellow gunk falls off his eyelids. Daddy doesn't settle for just patting the front. He tells me to spin around and presses in the shield of the diaper. His hand does not find the crunchy plastic of a dry diaper. Not even close. He leans forward and sniffs. "Daddy!" I say. "Are you pooped?" "No I'm not pooped Daddy," I say. "Smells like it," he says. I think for a second. Sometimes, poop can take me by surprise simply because I'm just so used to it being down there. But I don't think that it's the case this time. I came up with a reason. "I put my jammies back on," he said. "Okay," he says. There is a pause. "Lay down." "Daddy!" "You're too wet." "Daddy!" I say, tugging on his grip. He doesn't release and I'm still too horny to really fight. I couldn't get away anyway if I did. Soon enough I'm on my back. Once again. Daddy, more awake now, decides to give me a morning lecture. "The weather is getting warmer," he says, pointing at the window. "You know how it gets in the summer, Carliah. You know that we need to stay on top of it." "I know." "So I don't want you to fight me. I want you to help stay on top of it too. Were you trying to sneak out of here with this diaper?" "No." "Carliah. Did you wake up when you did your poopy last night?" "No! Daddy, please!" "Carliah?" "What Daddy?" "Be good. And lift your butt. That's better." Daddy was right. It was getting warm, and Spring was coming through the windows. I didn't put my jammies back on. I wore one of Daddy's t-shirts and long socks past my knees and I sat down on the couch. I had to fix my diaper a little; it wasn't one of daddy's best tape-jobs, but I couldn't complain because I'd been fussy and he'd been groggy. Daddy made me toast and some eggs and laid them down on the coffee table. He had picked one of the baby plates, this one with Belle from Beauty and the Beast. He had made himself the same thing, complete with a coffee. He poured me juice, though, and put it in a sippy cup so I couldn't spill. "Aww, I forgot the apples," he said. "It's okay!" I said, popping up. "I can get them." Daddy looked at my diaper, which flashed before his t-shirt fell over it to cover it. "Thank you honey," he said. I walked over to the kitchen. I tucked a hand under my shirt to feel that yes, my diaper was still actually dry. I still missed my big wet diaper, but this felt good too. Like a full tank of gas. Like a newly washed car, complete with its own new smell of plastic and powder and lavender lotion. Like a brain that was freshly snoozed, with no weblike gunk between the ears, ready to think big smart thoughts through the whole day.. I leaned across the counter with both hands to grab two apples. Carliah Garcia is not someone blessed with hands big enough to hold two apples in one hand at the same time. Perhaps it was the way my tummy contorted against the marble countertop. Maybe it was my movement, or perhaps the prospect of food. Food is always a catalyst; mealtime becomes change-time. I'm rarely in a state to order dessert, if you know what I mean. Sometimes the check can't come soon enough. But today, all I needed was to reach for two apples. And then that new car smell was gone. It hit my diaper in a flash. Like someone had pulled open the back and dropped a fist-sized rock right into the seat. Pee surged out too, as if it had been waiting for the time to strike. It came out with a fart too. Daddy looked up at me. He had a big mouthful of toast. "Everything okay, honey?" I knew I was blushing. I knew he could probably hear what had happened too. I stood there, arms outstretched, with two apples. "Carliah?" "Should I wash the apples?" I asked. Daddy smiled. "Yes Carliah, of course. Just a quick rinse. But you don't have to cut them up." "Okay!" I said, inflecting my voice as positively as I could to avoid my embarrassment. And disappointment. I had just convinced myself that my clean diaper was cozy. I did as I was told for the apples. I did not do as I was told earlier about my accident. About how it was getting warmer and I needed to be responsible. Instead, I sat down on the couch. I'll tell you that as soon as I did, I was no longer sad that I'd ruined a clean diaper. It felt good. It wouldn't last long, of course, Daddy was right there and would smell it, surely. Honestly, it was a perfect diaper. Not enough pee or poop to leak, but just enough that I couldn't forget it. You could say that an incontinent lass like me has developed her own, refined tastes. I'd really be like this all day every day if I could. With every bite of my toast I wormed my but into the couch a little more, squishing it further. If Daddy wasn't there, I'd make rubbies for sure. But he wouldn't allow it. He wasn't cross, but he was more in the mood for a lecture than indulgence. I expected him to give me a lecture about how I was supposed to get used to changing it myself this summer when he caught me. But he didn't catch me. We finished our breakfasts. He got on his phone and read emails or texts, I couldn't tell which. When I was done eating, he took our plates away. While he was in the kitchen I snuck a few rubbies in. Just a little. When I heard his footsteps again I stopped quickly, but the feeling was too good. I brought my heel against the crotch of my diaper and dug it in. I examined my split ends while gently rocking on my foot. I assumed it was change-time when he came by to kiss me on the head, but once again, he didn't lift my shirt and he did not begin to sniff around. Instead, he went back upstairs to get ready for work. I watched him disappear. Then I mounted the couch's armrest. I rode it almost all the way until I had an orgasm. But Daddy's feet appeared at the top of the stairs and I had to throw myself off on the couch. My diaper didn't feel so good anymore; the motion on the couch had distended and mushed it further. But I figured Daddy was taking me up to the bed and towel in just a moment, so it didn't matter. "Watcha doing?" he asked. He stopped beside the couch. He could probably see my diaper, but it didn't matter now. I was kinda hoping for that change. "Nothin. Still sleepy." "Okay. You'll remember to look at the chore list we made last night, right?" "Yes Daddy." "And I'll be home for lunch, as usual." "Yes Daddy." He took a step around the couch. I was sure he was going to lift his shirt off of me and patt my bum. But he didn't. He pulled my hair aside and gave me a big wet kiss on the cheek. "Anything else, honey?" "Hm?" "Are you all good?" I don't know how long it took me to respond. It felt like forever. But since he gave me another kiss, it couldn't have been that long. "I'm good, Daddy," I said. And then he turned and left out the door, smiling at me as he shut it and locked it behind him. To say that I was quite in shock was an understatement. Sure, the poop in my diaper wasn't the biggest ever, but it wasn't nothing. It was definitely poop and there was no way that Daddy would have missed it. It had been almost an hour since he'd grabbed my wrist beside the bed too, and he always checks me more than that. And then I realized that he knew. Of course he knew. And I lied. And he knew I lied. I ran upstairs and got my phone. It was a weird feeling, to move quickly with that much stuff smushed in there, but trust me, I've felt weirder. I found my phone under the covers and texted him. "Daddy," I wrote. "I messed up." "I just thought you were going to change it yourself." "But it's messsyyyyyyy," she said. "I think you can handle it." "Daddy!" "Daddy what?" "Daddy please?" Daddy came back in and marched up the stairs. I got the towel out for him, as well as the wipes and a new diaper. He put the diaper back in the drawer and procured a thinner one. "I want a thick diaper," I said, sucking my thumb. He batted my hand away. There was no time to find a pacifier, but he did scan the bed for one closeby anyway. "You're going to get a thinner diaper. If you leak, you're in trouble." "But I have to wait until you get home for lunch!" "Only if you don't change it yourself." There was no more discussion. I submitted to his wipes. He told me he was disappointed that I lied, and that we'd have a discussion about it later. He also reminded me of how much cream he'd needed to use last summer, and how much I whined about the rash. I took it all in silence. Soon enough, I was back in a thin diaper and alone until lunch. I was clean. I know what you'll think about this next part. You're going to say...Carliah, that's not real. You're going to say, Carliah, you're only five-foot-two. You didn't have steak and bloody marys, you didn't eat a whole damn piggy for dinner the night before. You even pooped twice yesterday – once around breakfastime, and once right after Daddy put you in a diaper after your shower (because that's how it goes sometimes). You might say, well... maybe this part is reasonable. Maybe it wasn't that much today, at breakfast, and maybe it wasn't that bad overnight too. Your Daddy wasn't late for work and didn't lose that much sleep, so maybe what happened next was not just reasonable, but predictable. All I can tell you is that I'm too little to know for sure. I don't know where the best place on the beach is to build a sandcastle. I don't, at the drop of a hat, know where the best gas station is to fill up a car in the city. I haven't, in fact, memorized the decision tree in the picture book so as to avoid all of the trap doors to an OOPSIE outcome. I'm a baby and shit happens. In fact, my opinion was that I was in the clear. I had, after all, filled my diapers quite hard that morning. Things were moving, and likely had moved. Prospects were as good as any. Chance of showers: minimal. Tornado warning? Pssh. Carliah was smooth sailing. Did Daddy give me a thinner diaper? Sure. Was I in trouble? Yeah, I was in trouble. But Daddy might forget. And Daddy didn't know that I'd got 95% of the way to orgasm on the couch. No permission. So I dodged most of the trouble anyway. The chores I had to do involved some errands. Cucumbers, more hand soap, more buttcream (always embarrassing to buy). Go to FedEX to get some postal thingy printed. Go pick out a card for Daddy's sister's birthday. There were other things. Phone calls about the house I had to make. And he wanted me to do some research on a vacation for the summer. But I figured that since my diaper was clean and dry, and thin to boot, and because the messes had just happened, that the best time of any to get out and about was right away. I said before I was bad at being incontinent. That I run on fumes. Honestly I don't know what else I could have done. Sometimes you're just toast. I took an Uber to the farthest place, which was the FedEx store. I got that taken care of, but while I was waiting I did a self check and rats, I was peed. Not too bad. I checked my bag just in case, and saw that I hadn't brought a diaper change. This didn't worry me. I often do that. Daddy never takes me out without one, but I often dip out without a dip. Especially on days like this, when the pee and poop came with the early birds. I went to a Hallmark to get a card. I started to feel something. It can sometimes be like that. Usually it's more like it was when I was grabbing the apples. When I have no idea I'm about to mess until it's in the diaper and still coming out. Sometimes, though, I get a tease. And sometimes it's a lie. I can't tell you how many diapers I've ruined going to the potty at the slightest feeling down there. It turns out to just be my period or my tummy or just, idk, the weird feelings you get just cause you're old. Or horniess. I've legitimately mistaken the feral need to fuck, so serious and debilitating that it feels like anxiety or a cramp, and sat on the potty because of it. I don't really know. Maybe it's just because I've had so little success pooping on the potty that I just don't know what normal, potty trained people feel like when they have to go. I think it's supposed to feel like what it feels like when a cock is coming out of your ass. Sorry. I know those of you anal fuckers probably think of it the other way. That a slipping cock feels like shitting. But I associate these things the opposite way, for obvious reasons. So I had a feeling. I thought it was horniness or the eggs. I suppose since I have ovaries, those two concepts aren't so different. I picked out a card without too much worry. I even squatted down to inspect the lowest ledge in the display. I worried more about the waistband of my pants and the sound of the crinkles than what was going on in my tum-tum. The feeling came and went, came and went. I trickled pee into the diaper, as usual, but nothing really progressed on the other end. In retrospect, I have to be a toddler – at best – to not have realized what was coming. Sometimes context, such as my messy morning, can be deceptive. Sometimes it might be better to think less, to understand less. My bottom made the need abundantly clear as I was about two back in the line to check out at Hallmark. It surged all of a sudden, like snow suddenly breaking off a roof. Like when you tip the cereal box too far to one side and the log jam breaks and the Lucky Charms all come cascading out. It was lucky. It was a miracle I caught it and clenched at all. More pee came out but I held my bum tight. I bit my lip and almost bent in half the card I wanted to buy. I looked behind me and saw a yoga mom idling through her phone, blissfully unaware of the jeopardy my diaper was in. I looked ahead, and an older lady was paying for her card in cash. Worse, she was paying not just in cash, but in exact cash. A coin rolled off the table onto the floor and the old lady looked at it wearily until the patron behind her stepped forward to pick it up. The situation was laughably hopeless. I almost laughed. There was no way I was paying without losing control. Daddy is gonna get hard when he hears about this. I thought about the edge of the couch, but I remembered that the diaper he gave me was small. And it wasn't close to lunch. And I was over a mile from home. It was getting warm. I still had chores to do. The feeling was a bit like trying to balance a basketball on your index finger. Drop it and...boom. Specifically, the feeling was a bit like trying to balance a basketball on your finger when you've never actually successfully balanced it before. So yeah. All it took was someone bursting through the automatic doors to make me drop the ball. They came in, turned, and shouted at someone idling in a car outside. Like any normal human being, I turned my head to see what was happening. I pooped my diaper for the third time since midnight. A man stepped up to counter and waved me over. "I can help you at this register, ma'am." The old lady was gone. It was still coming. I walked over. "Can you give it to me so I can scan it?" he asked me. Still coming. "Oh, yeah." The yoga mom was behind me. Really closely for some reason. "Cash or credit?" It's like my diaper is growing a rudder. "Credit." "Okay, whenever you're ready." Still coming. Right? No, all done. Oh. Wait. Definitely still coming. "You can remove your card, ma'am." Ma'am! Ha! No. No I'm never going to be a ma'am. I walked home. It felt too disrespectful to get into an uber. I carried my printout from FedEx and my Hallmark card and I passed right by the grocery store. I'd do those chores later. I texted Daddy, but he was busy and did not reply. Daddy was right, it was getting warm. The sun was beating down on me and my bloated diaper. I tried to stand away from people at crosswalks, but they didn't know to avoid me and found their way beside me more than usual. I hoped that the wind would waft my scent away. Or that they'd blame it on a dog or the sewer. I couldn't decide whether to hurry or go slow. I wanted to get home as fast as possible, but I also didn't want to pass in front of other pedestrians. I preferred to let them pass me. But there were always more coming out of shops and around corners. Walking fast meant it squished more. Walking slow meant I was in the hot sun longer. About halfway home I was sweating so much I was sure I was leaking. The mess in my diaper seemed to heat up my groin until it almost became claustrophobic. I realized that I was waddling and tried to correct my gait, but after a few blocks I gave up. I realized that when I got home, I had nowhere to go. I still had chores around the house. But what was I going to do? Stay standing the whole time until Daddy came home? Or sit down in this hot mess? I wanted Daddy! I texted him again. No reply. Someone bumped into me and I bit my lip. Was it possible to run away from my own butt? "Daddy I'll be in all the trouble in the world but you have to meet me at home now and change my diaper!" "I'll do no cummies for a week! I'll let you spank me bunches and bunches. But I need a new diaper soooooo bad." Finally I made it home. A part of me was mad at Daddy. Still no reply! I took off all my clothes and checked my pants to see if there had been a leak. There wasn't. I looked in the mirror and got turned on and I hated it. There was no Daddy to do anything about it and I'd ruin the couch if I did my favorite thing again. Gahh! Daddy called me. "Daddy!" I yelled into the phone. "Are you home?" "No." "Are you coming home?" "Carliah. I stepped outside. Carliah. No. Please listen. You have to do it." "You don't understand I had a..." "Carliah..." "Daddy PLEASE!" "Carliah, let me talk. Or it really will be big trouble. Do you understand?" "Yes Daddy." "You've done it yourself for years. You know many people who do it themselves. You have incontinent friends who change it themselves. You can do it too. I know you can." "But Daddy I have you!" "Mhm. And you also have trouble." "That's good I understand any kind of trouble but..." "This is the trouble. The kind of trouble involved in growing up. You're changing it yourself, Carliah. No, I know you made a big mess. Of course I love you. But I'm not coming home from lunch. Do you understand? Carliah? Carliah?" *** Peter arrived home at approximately six in the evening. He hadn't heard a peep from Carliah all day since she hung up the phone. He wasn't mad. No, far from it. He was curious. He didn't mind that she probably resented him, and that it would be absurd for her to resent him. After all, him making a twenty minute drive to wipe her butt, wolf down lunch, and drive back to work every day was a bit absurd. It was just so hot. It pained him not to do it. He really did like that he always changed her. She was so...dependent that way. But it was unsustainable. Both time wise and health wise. She needed to relearn the responsibility to clean up her own messes now and then. Not always, but often. He would have work trips. He would leave her on her own. She would need to deal with it. What was he saying? Carliah was over thirty. Carliah was fine. Carliah was getting spanked big time. She was getting soaped and he was going to make her use her mouth to great lengths to apologize to him. So he opened the door with a devilish grin. What he saw made his jaw drop. There was Carliah, her breasts out, her face panting and delirious. Her long dark hair was disheveled. She was wearing nothing but one sock and a diaper. Not even a bra. Her glasses were hung down to the very edge of her nose, and it hardly seemed to matter because her eyes were glazed and cross eyed. "Carliah!" She was perched atop the armrest of the couch. On foot on the couch, the other hanging off. Both hands pressed against her crotch. Sweat dripped down and Peter noticed her hair was stuck to her face. His eyes, stuck for a little while on her erect, raw nipples, made their way down to her hands. She had changed her diaper. No...she hadn't. He looked closer at the waistband. The waistbands. The many, many, many waistbands upon waistbands. "Carliah..." Carliah didn't acknowledge him. She rocked back and forth. What he smelled made his eyes go wide. Peter pushed through it and stepped up to the edge of the couch. Carliah was almost taller this way. She rocked back and forth, the massive balloon of plastic around her waist squeaking and crinkling as she moved. He closed his eyes and kissed her. Her mouth and breath were warm. "Daddy," she whispered, almost as quiet as a breath. She cracked a weak, delirious smile. Like she knew what was about to happen to her. Like she understood that the only place deeper and more full of poop than the septupled diaper she was wearing was the hole of trouble she'd just landed in. "I put new diapers on, Daddy. Like you said. Am I a good baby?" "You are...a baby," he told her.
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DISCLAIMER: IMPORTANT! PLEASE READ! If you have not read my first story: Little Beginnings: New Life - I HIGHLY suggest you do so! This story will make a lot more sense if you do. It’s where the main character is first introduced and you and learn a lot about the little community I have created. ooOoo Chapter 1: Three Months Before The moment she stepped out of the cab, her skin began to burn. Luna groaned, enduring the full force of the simmering summer heat. This was the exact reason she never wanted to come to the South. There wasn’t anything she hated more than the sun, and by the end of the day, she’d be as red as a lobster. Her father always said it was their Irish blood and she’d roll her eyes in return. No shit sherlock. They were as white as the freakin moon. For sure, she’d stand out among the throng of tanned bodies, which in her case, was not a good thing. She wasn’t sure how long she would stay but Luna had gotten a credible lead on her dad. One she couldn’t ignore. And if the authorities were still scouring Raleigh, it would only take them hours to realize that she was no longer there. “Hello, Miss?” the driver grumbled, knocking her from her thoughts. “You gonna pay me or what? I’m not gonna sit here all day.” He was a grumpy old man who’d only reluctantly driven her all the way out here from North Carolina after promising a generous pay. She’d had to leave earlier than expected and while inconvenient, made her aware of how comfortable she’d become. Never did she stay in one place for more than a few months. It wasn’t safe. “O-of course,” she blushed as she fumbled around in her wallet and pulled out one hundred dollars for the driver. Despite his less-than-stellar personality, he knew when to stay quiet and not ask questions. That was good enough for her. She carried only the bag on her back and money to last her at least another year and a half. After that, she wasn’t sure what she would do. Luna watched the car take off down the dirt path before finally exhaling the breath she’d been holding in the entire ride. There was an eerie silence. A sort of calm before the storm. Luna had only ever known noise, growing up in the heart of Manhatten. Her father explained the importance of hiding in plain sight. Nobody would expect them to be in bustling New York City, a place known for the attention and spotlight. It was perfect… until it wasn’t. Now, looking straight ahead, Luna wondered if she had the right place. The roof of the red farmhouse was dilapidated and the land looked absolutely dead. Anyone who happened upon the house would believe it was abandoned. Though that was the point. No one was supposed to know this place existed. Luna had only found it due to her father. He was the reason she’d not been caught yet. The girl walked ahead with a renewed sense of purpose. The boards below her feet creaked and she rapped her knuckle, three than two than six times, on the faded white door. She clutched a swiss army knife in her other hand, hidden in her pocket. “Always be prepared.” Her father taught her. “Never hesitate.” She was literally in the middle of nowhere-bumfuck-South Carolina. No one would see her if she was kidnapped. No one would hear her if she screamed. Being vulnerable was something she did not like. The door opened a crack and dark brown eyes peered at her. Her hand tightened around the knife and heart frantically raced. “Who sent you?” it was a woman’s voice who asked. “Martin Creevy.” she used her father’s alias. “I assume you’ve heard of him before.” Oh, the woman definitely had by the way her eyes lit up. The door closed in her face and for a moment, Luna thought she’d been turned away. However, there was a click and suddenly it opened again, wider. “We’ve been expecting you,” she said, motioning with her hand. “C’mon in.” Despite the raised hairs on the back of her neck, she stepped over the threshold into the house. There was no turning back, only moving forward. She never could stop moving, searching. Not until he was found. The door slammed shut and Luna jumped, spinning around. She watched the woman re-chain the door and turn the several deadbolts. From the outside, it looked like nothing. Her eyes wandered around, trying to adjust to the darkness. They were in a narrow hallway, with no lights and no other exit. A few pictures adorned the walls and they stood on a dusty old rug. Her nose wrinkled at the smell of mothballs and she leaned on each leg, testing the uneven floor. “You don’t think much of it.” Her eyes flashed back to the woman, who stared intently at her. “It’s just… different.” her bow-shaped lips pursed together. “Where do we go?” “Down.” “Down?” Luna didn’t think she meant literally, but she did. She watched as the woman bent down and peeled back the rug, revealing the wooden floor and… a hatch? “We take our security very seriously. There’s a ladder going down,” she explained, unlocking and lifting up the door. “You go first. I’ll follow.” ooOoo It was a tiny house. That, Luna had been sure of when she saw it from outside but inside, down here, was big. She supposed the basement would be large but not this big.They stood in the kitchen, which had no wall and lead right into the dining room where there was a small wooden table. Unable to help but gap, eyes going wide, the woman laughed, coming from behind her. “Don’t keep your mouth open too long. You’re gonna catch flies.” Her mouth instantly snapped shut and a furious blush spread across her face. Her blue eyes drifted over the woman beside her as she could see her properly for the first time in the light. She had a heart-shaped face and kind but weary brown eyes, that looked to have seen too much pain over the years. And despite her smooth, unwrinkled brown skin, her hair, which Luna could imagine must have been dark black at one point, now greyed. A few loose curls hung in her face and her lips formed a thin smile. “You look like your father.” Her brows furrowed together. She knew her father? “You have the same face but your eyes, they are exactly like your mother’s.” Her lips parted and she stilled. Her only reaction was to blink. “Call me Sue,” the woman offered no other explanation. “I always wondered when we would meet.” Still, she couldn’t bring herself to react. “This is the MacIntosh Safe House. I suspect this is the first one you have come across?” It was. Before, she was squatting in random abandoned buildings, resting while she had the chance. She knew there were safe houses, just didn’t know how to find them. “Sit down, Hon,” the wom- Sue, headed toward the kitchen cabinets, searching through them. “You’re exhausted. I’ll make you a snack.” Her feet moved on her own accord and sat down on the stool at the island table. Sue chopped an apple into slices. MacIntosh. She gulped, trying to find the courage to speak but was, she felt… Luna didn’t know how she felt. The strong confident girl from a few hours ago was gone and didn’t know what had happened to her. “My name is-” “I don’t want to know your real name.” she interrupted, not looking up from the cutting board. “Do you believe my name is actually Sue?” The girl did believe, well, at least up until now. “Charlie.” she made up on the spot. “Call me Charlie.” “Nice to meet you, Charlie.” The name sounded strange as the woman referred to her as it but Luna knew it was better this way. There was nothing to tie her to here. Well, except the driver but she doubted he’d remember. “I’m sure you have many questions and I’ll wait to answer them until you meet the others. It’s not common that we have a new person.” “The others? Oh, and I’m not planning on staying long. I’m just passing through.” She passed the plate across the table with the freshly cut apple slices and smiled. “Of course, you aren't.” The woman didn’t seem to believe her. However, the girl nibbled on the apple, realizing for the first time just how hungry she was. “There are six other people staying here. Three are out right now and the others are in the next room.” Glancing at the doorway in the dining room, she could hear the faintest sound. Was that a tv? There were a few voices. “Your father always bragged about how smart you were and never did I not believe him. You found us, which is not easy to do.” she leaned back against the oak cabinet. “How long ago did he go missing?” “Two years ago.” she ignored the heavy feeling in her heart. Realistically, he’d been preparing her for this since the moment she could walk and talk; but since it had happened, she’d never had time to fully comprehend. “He told me to run and not look back if they ever found us. He said that if he was captured then he’d find his way back to me someday. I believed him for a long time. Now, I’m less optimistic.” She sucked the tart flavor off of her fingers. The apples were gone. She’d eaten them all. “I didn’t believe it when he first told me about the communities, age play, and all of that stuff.” her lips curled up. “If the government knew, why hadn’t they put a stop to it? Innocent people are being kidnapped. My mother was kidnapped. Now my father. It made no sense.” At least, it used to not make sense. But now she realized, anything the government profited off of made perfect sense. Kidnapping defenseless people, stripping away their rights, all for what? To create a better nation? Her parents knew the price they would pay for speaking out about the secret age play communities and the government-sanctioned kidnappings. They just didn’t expect it would go this far- being on the run, living in hiding. And her mother especially didn’t expect she would get pregnant. Now she was destined for a life on the run. That is unless she wanted to get taken and forced back into diapers, made to shit and piss herself, play mindless baby games, and be just some sick couple’s object of amusement. That’s what had happened to her parents, she was sure of it. The only other option was that they were dead. Luna would gladly choose the second option if it came to it. No way would they take her alive. If Sue noticed the faraway look in her eyes, she didn’t comment. Instead, she took the dirty plate, dumping it in the sink. “Why don’t we go say hello to the others.” “Now?” she stammered. Growing up homeschooled, her interaction with people was severely limited. Being alone was what she preferred. It's what she was best at. “Yes, there’s just one thing you have to know." "What?" "Try not to stare.” “Stare?” “Mary gets mad and Tina can't help what was done to her.” Luna didn’t know what that was supposed to mean and tried to shrug off the uncomfortable feeling, but it just wouldn’t go away. ooOoo A/N: Hello everyone! I promised I would post soon and I did! I hope you all enjoyed this first chapter and you may notice two familiar names :). If it doesn’t make sense at first, trust me it will soon! I will be alternating, telling Luna’s (Lulu) story from before she was taken and after in Henderson. I will touch a bit on the hospital but it will mostly be her life after. I should update again soon but I hope you all enjoy!
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I have wondered what it would be like to give a blow job while pooping a diaper. Has anyone done it? What was it like?
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Chapter 1: The Cuckhold “Ugh, Charles. What the fuck are YOU doing back this early”, Callie said breathlessly as she looked at him with disgust. She was straddling a big muscular dude reverse cowboy so she was facing the door. He could see she was sweaty and her pussy was red and dripping around his huge rock hard cock. He had come home and heard her moaning loudly in his bedroom. They were on his bed. His sheets. A picture of him and her together taken last summer on the nightstand. “Oh my… oh god… Cass… I …oh GOD!” he stammered, in shock, tears coming to his eyes. “Oh shut the fuck up!... ugh!”, she said as she she slid him out of her and sat on the bed beside the guy. “Another fucking ruined orgasm because of YOU!”. “Get the fuck out. I’m busy here.”, she rubbed the guys rock hard 9” cock as she said this. “Go stay in a hotel tonight!”. The look of distain on her face hit him in the gut. “But… It’s my apartment..”, he spit out. “Jesus, do want me to get Dan here to fuckin throw you out?!”, she spit. “GO!”. The “dude” was laying there with a wet throbbing hardon, looking at him with an expression that said, “Try me, pussy”. He turned around and stumbled out of the apartment building and down to the parking lot crying. He started his car and drove aimlessly until he pulled into the nearest shitty low budget motel. He sat in his car in the motel parking lot weeping. ---- He checked into his room and laid on the bed in the fetal position. He got under the covers and set his alarm for work tomorrow. He was crying. The scene played out over and over in his head. He thought about how their relationship had deteriorated over the last year and how she had become more and more mean and dismissive of him. She kept reminding him how she was out of his league and how he was lucky she ever talked to him. He felt like such a loser. He didn’t do anything!! He just rolled over like a wimpy little cuck. Let Dan continue fucking her in HIS bed…. Oh god… he cried about what a loser he was. Then his mind wandered. He pictured her sweaty and writhing, riding his big cock, until she came to a screaming orgasm – something he had not been able to do for her for the last year with his pathetic little 3” micro-penis. He masturbated his little cucked baby dick furiously in the fetal position picturing this until he jizzed all over himself and fell a sleep in the seedy hotel bed. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Chapter 2 – The “Problem” When he woke up the next morning and felt all clammy and caught a strong wiff of pee smell all around him Oh shit!. WTF??? He had pissed the hotel bed in his sleep. He realized the maid was knocking at the door and he was an hour late for work… the alarm was beeping but he didn’t hear it. “Clean the room, Sir?”, the maid said through the door. He was panicking. “OK…. Uhm, ahh, please give me another half hour please!”, he yelled. He stood there horrified. The events of last night came back to him. He felt like such a pathetic little man-boy. “oh God…”, the thought. He jumped into the shower and got ready for work… he didn’t want to check out as he didn’t know if he’d be going home tonight or not. His mind told him “It’s “Dan’s” house now you little cuck loser. He would just have to leave the wet sheets for the maid and hope she wasn’t around when he got back from work so he wouldn’t have to feel the shame. --- He couldn’t concentrate on work. He was at his desk just replaying everything that had happened in the last 12 hrs. His life had been turned upside-down. What the hell was he going to do? It was completely fucked. His mind was a jumble. His phone rang suddenly. He felt a squirt of pee shoot into his briefs. “Oh my god, no…” he thought. He answered,… it was his boss asking him to come into his office immediately . He nervously walked to the bosses office hoping that his briefs had absorbed the pee and that none could be seen on the front of his tan kakis … he’d been wearing the same cloths since yesterday as well and he thought he could sense that everyone noticed. Charlene, the bosses secretary looked at him with distain as he approached. “He’ll see you now”. She looked him up and down and he felt his baby dick shrink further into his belly at her disgust at his pathetic-ness. He walked into his bosses office. “Look Andrews”, he said sourly, “An hour late?... pfft… You know I’d LOVE to fire you, right?... PLEASE give me one more excuse”. He stood their being berated for the next 5 minutes. Drifting off and thinking about the events of last night. “Are you listening?!?”, his boss raised his voice sharply. He started. He felt a small amount of poop slip out of his asshole and lodge itself between his cheeks. “Oh Jesus Christ”, he thought, panicking. “Ok, uhm Dean, I’m super sorry…. Uh I have a teams meeting in 3 minutes… uh.. I have to go.”, he stammered. He slipped out of the office quickly his boss exclaiming surprisedly…. He made his way to the men’s bathroom, trying to clench his butt cheeks together. He ran into a stall and pulled his pants down … his knees trembling together, little dick trembling between his skinny legs. He grabbed some toilet paper and wiped up the poo between his bum cheeks… it had already stained his briefs and he hoped no one would notice the smell. He sat down on the toilet, his head in his hands and wondered what the hell was going on ?... How could his life get any worse? Just then, his phone dinged with a text, he squealed a bit with a girly noise, a bit more poo dropped into the toilet. It was a text from Cassie. “Hey. I’m gonna move in with Dan now, obviously. I need the apartment for a couple more days. I’m away this afternoon… you can come by and get some stuff then. I’m taking your TV, stereo and bed with me. Please be gone when I get back tonight. Also Dan fucked me so hard I think it started my period!... I need you to go pick me up some tampons and leave them here for me on the counter.” She accompanied this with a selfie photo of her and Dan naked in his bed. She was rubbing Charles’s toothbrush on Dan’s wet dick… getting his cum all over it. Charles’s little pathetic dick got hard seeing this and he felt completely humiliated. He snuck out of work early and headed to the CVS to get Cassie’s tampons before heading home.
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sissy Forced to save dream land ---ch26 (11/18).
PinkTheDinosaur posted a topic in Story and Art Forum
“SPIDER!” my little sister Annabelle screamed at the top of her lungs. “STOP SCREAMING!” I screamed back at her before running over and killing the damn spider. “Look, just go downstairs and look through some of the stuff down there!” Annabelle was 8 years old and had a very high pitched scream that I absolutely could not stand. So far that had been her 4th time screaming her head off and I would rather clear out this attic myself than to hear her scream near me one more time. Why are we cleaning the attic? Well because we're selling my grandmas house. About 5 months ago my grandma got really sick and died just 2 weeks later. It was a very sad time for us all. Anyway, my mom couldn't afford to keep both our hose and my grandma's house so she decided to get everything out and go through it. Some stuff we are selling, some were giving to goodwill, and some were keeping. My sister was in tears after I yelled at her but what do you expect? A 16-year-old brother can only handle so much screaming. But Annabelle did climb down the ladder leading to the attic crying so it wouldn't be so bad. Mom might be a little mad at me for yelling at her but even she knows how much of a pain it can be to hear my sister scream. I was about to get back to taking stuff down the ladder when I suddenly heard something slam shut. Looking back I could see the door to the attic had closed shut. Shit! I went over and tried to reopen the door but it wouldn't budge. Whoever made it, made it so that it can only be opened from the outside. “Perfect,” I whisper as I pulled out my phone to text my mom. She had a few things to do today so she left the two of us here to clear out the attic. ‘Hi mom, Annabelle’s screaming was getting on my nerves so I sent her downstairs. She must have accidentally knocked the ladder and now I'm stuck up here.’ I texted my mom. ‘Ok, I'm almost done with my shopping and I'll be back in 30 minutes.” she texted me back. great, stuck up here with nothing to do. My grandma doesn't have internet and my phone doesn't have any apps so I'm already bored. Not long after that, I hired the phone ring downstairs. Most likely mom checking on Anna. I take a look over at the boxes still up here and I decided to open a few and see whats inside. Maybe I could find something cool and call dibs on it. the first box had nothing but clothes in it, the next had old photos, and finally the last I checked actually had stuff in it! Most of it was old junk that I wouldn't have any use for. But it was still neat to look at some of it. Then I noticed something, a little pink box. I grabbed it and just looked at it. Out of everything in the box this one looked a little out of place. As I opened it, I let out a small giggle. It was a pink diaper with the word ‘princess’ on the front. On the back was just a large red hart. “Why was this up here?” I asked myself before tossing the diaper and continued to look through my grandma's stuff. But then I heard something, a small rustling sound, was it a rat!? I quickly turn around to see nothing. Then I hear the rustling again and I turned to look at the attic door. But again nothing was there, well except for the diaper. Just then I realized the rustling sound must have been the diaper. but what I didn't realize was it wasn't in the spot I tossed it at. I decided I should actually pick it up and put it back in the box before mom gets back. As I walk over and try to pick it up however the diaper suddenly leaps into the air and clamped onto my face! What the fuck! I immediately start fracking out as I try to pull the diaper off my face when I suddenly fall down. “Ow,” I say as I rub my head and release the diaper is off my face but notice it's trying to make its way into my pants! I immediately grab onto it and tried as hard as I could to pull on it, but It just would not budge! I might be scrawny but I can't be this week! But my hands slip and the diaper went right into my pants. I quickly stand up as I feel the diaper moving around in my underwear! I immediately pull down both my pants and underwear just as the diaper tapes itself onto me and started releasing a thick pink smoke! “What the hell!” I yell out before I start coughing and I close my eyes. With my eyes closed, I didn't see my clothes began to disappear and soon replaced by different clothes. When I finally was able to open my eyes I screamed as I looked down. I now had knee-length socks and black shoes. My pants were gone and I was now wearing a pink frilly skirt that only covered half of the pink diaper. My shirt was replaced with a short-sleeved pink shirt that didn't even cover my bellybutton with a red vest red ribbons over it. And if I had a mirror I would see that my dark hair has turned into a light pink color with a small ow sicking out the side of my head! “W-w-what the…” I said weakly as my body starts shaking slightly. "What the hell was going on here!" I then began pulling at everything, trying as hard as I can to remove any of it! “You can't take me off.” I heard someone say and I immediately jumped and began looking around. “Who said that?” I asked as I saw no one else around me. “I am Pardie,” the voice said again. “Where are you!” I asked. “Look down.” the voice said and when I did all I could see was the diaper. “What do you mean? All I see is the diaper.” I tell the voice. Suddenly the diaper began to swell and get bigger forcing my legs apart! “I am the diaper.” the voice said before deflating back to the original size. (the name pardie is diaper with the letters changed around) “T-this can't be happening,” I say as I really start to freak out. “Ow, but it is princess, and now it's time for you to save your kingdom,” Pardie told me and suddenly the diaper began letting out even more smoke. “NOT AGAIN!” I yelled as I closed my eyes and began coughing again. When the smoke finally subsided and I was finally able to breathe again I opened my eyes to see I was no longer in the attic anymore. “WHAT THE HELL!” I screamed as I began to freak out. “THIS CAN'T BE HAPPENING! I was now inside an empty room with only a single window and a door. “Welcome to you castle princess,” Pardie said to me. “IM A BOY NOT A PRINCESS!” I screamed at the diaper and realized I'm losing my mind. There's no way I'm screaming at a talking diaper, or magically been taken somewhere else. “This has to be a dream. Ya, I must have slipped when I was picking up the diaper and hit my head.” I told myself. “You still don't believe this is real?” pardie asked. “Of course not!” I screamed. “Who in their right mind would think diapers could talk!” Suddenly I felt the diaper suddenly get really tight as it began shrinking! At first, it wasn't that bad, hell I figured it would just pop off as soon as it got small enough. But no, it soon felt like there was a vise clamped onto my nuts! Soon I was screaming in pain. “Do you believe this is real now princess?” pardie asked. “YES!” I screamed just wanting the pain to be over and thankfully the diaper went back to normal. “What is going on here?” I asked the diaper as soon as the pain in my crotch went away. “You are here to save your kingdom princess.” pardie told me. “What kingdom?” I asked and suddenly heard screaming coming from outside the window. I immediately ran over to the window and looked outside and my jaw dropped. I was in some sort of tower looking down at a vast beautiful city. But with a closer look, I could see people running around screaming as buildings were lit on fire. Then I saw the case of the fire, a large lion with goat horns was breathing fire! “Princes, it's time for you to save your kingdom,” Pardie told me as I nearly pissed my diaper. ____________ hi! ^.^ I hope you like this first chapter. I've been pretty busy so I haven't had much time to write but I've been wanting to post this for a while. I want to give a shout out to skipek1 (from DeviantArt) who asked me to make a transformation story. and to Redwelch2222 who helped me with a little bit of the world building that will be in the next chapter. this is my first real original story not based on anything already. hope you all like it! -
"I can't believe mom is making me take you on this stupid doll factory tour!" Cody whined. His sister Amanda says "Well I been wanting to go to this for awhile plus they got new dolls being made and it's a huge surprise. Something thats never been done!" They both start walking with the lady of rhe tour. Cody bored decides to go on his own tour. He quickly evades the group and his sister. His sister is too focused to on tour to notice he's gone. Cody finds a room labeled "keep out secret testing in progress". Cody intrested goes in and it's super dark but can hear machines going. The lights then come on and couldn't believe his eyes "he saw life like dolls same size of him but they were robots looked so real like humans. They were all in packaging except one was ripped open. "I wonder who opened this" Cody confused. Then from behind two arms grab him its the doll that was missing from the box "well well well looks like I found my replacement. No way I'm going to be somebody's baby dolly but I'm sure you'll be perfect for them" The doll takes him to this slide and throws him down "have fun with your new life. I'm about to start my own new life" the doll chuckles. Cody slides down then lands on a conveyor belt. A robot size doll that's bigger then him scans him. "Hmm I don't remember boys being part of this baby doll project but I guess they are going for sissy baby. Well let's get you ready and set to go" The robot grabs Cody but before Cody could say anything she sticks a pacifier in his mouth. "Now now no talking back its time to put you in a nice thick diaper but first we got to shave you down there" The robot then shackles him down to a chair and a bunch of hands rip his clothes off leaving him butt naked. The robot then grabs him and puts him across his knee. Cody trys to fight but the robot spanks him on the butt. Cody crys and immediately stops moving. Now lets shave those boy bits. The razor comes down and shaves his balls, dick, and butt hole. "There thats better but I think I feel someone is getting hard we can't have that can we. Now I'm going to remove your pacifier and if you try to talk back it goes right back in". Cody complies with the robot then waits for his next fate. The robot grabs a baby bottle filled with a little of milk then grabs his dick then lubes it up. And starts milking Cody till he makes loads of cum in the bottle. Cody felt so good he couldn't fight back. His orgasm was so amazing but them the robot grabs a chastity cage for his small soft dick. "Now we can't have you playing with yourself. Your new owner will decide when to unlock you. So be a good baby" the robot then locks his dick up and feeds him the bottle full of his cum and milk. "You got to be big and strong so protein was important for your milk". Cody can't believe he just drank his own cum. The robot then gets a giant thermometer but this one wasn't for mouth it was for rectal. Cody whines "Hey come on please no not that! " before he could back away the robot flipped him on his back and stickes thermometer up his butt. Cody could feel his dick precumming from feeling the thermometer hit his prostate. "Let's see well you look pretty healthy but ewww gross. Seriously do you not wipe your butt or clean down in that butthole. No no you need to be cleaned but also taught a lesson". The robot reveals a enema bag then grabs a diaper. "It's time for you to get a first experience of using your diaper at least!". The robot sticks the enema up his butt then starts shooting the water up his butt. She then diapers him up and plants him on her knee. "Now show mommy what a good girl does in her diaper". Cody tried to hold it but his butthole failed and realized a toxic messy wet poopy into his diaper. Cody cried like a baby while the robot laughed and bounced him. "Get use to it. I'm sure your owner will enjoy you so much. You look so embarrassed and blush it's so cute!" The robot then changes his diaper and wipes his butt hole very well. Before she diapered him she slipped a suppository up his butt. Then gets him dressed. Putting a small skirt barely coveting his diaper. And a shirt that says sissy boy on it. She then carries him to a box and ties his hands and feet up. "Well it's been fun but let's show you off. I'm sure someone will buy you". She put him on a conveyor which leaded to a show room. Which everybody was starring at him laughing. They couldn't believe their eyes but that wasn't even worse part. His sister Amanda saw him and approached the box. "Hey il take him please". Cody then says "omg Amanda am I glad to see you. Hey you got to untie me from this and get me out of here and....*click*" Amanda took a picture with her phone. "Now listen here sissy diaper boy I'm now in charge and your going to do what I say from now on or I can send this to all your friends" Cody scared "come on Amanda you can't do this I'm your big brother. You cant... ugh..." Cody felt the suppository taking effect. He couldn't poop himself infront of his sister. His sister smiled and knew what he was about to do. "Well looks like the baby needs to go boom boom. Daww well you are wearing a diaper go ahead show your new big sister how to fill a diaper" she then hits record on her phone to capture everything. Cody let's out a huge fart then his diaper starts to drop down from all the poo entering his diaper. "Noo this can't be happening. Im not a baby." Cody whined. Amanda smiled "peeeyeww baby bro you sure know how to pack them diapers like a pro. Looks like I got a fun pic and a video too. Here's the deal if you don't want both of these out. I mean the video is going to be way worse then picture but your going to tell mom that you want to bond with me more by being my new diaper doll toy. And... wait what's this" Amanda spots a key on the box that reads "key to chastity cage" Amanda laughs "oh my gosh I heard about these. Wow now your really going to be all mine. If you ever want to wank your little wee wee off then I suggest you better listen to everything I say. Also we got to get home my friends are coming over and I can't wait to show them to you. Plus il need help changing that stinky diaper. Gosh who knew boys took big dumps"
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A/N: IMPORTANT TO NOTICE Hey all! I hope you're all doing well! Do not worry! I am still working on my other stories but had started this a while ago and felt like I should post it! Just a warning in the beginning that this story will contain a lot of non-con, sexual content and humiliation. If this makes you uncomfortable than I suggest you don't read it! I love seeing comments so I'd love to see everyone's comments! ooOoo Summary: When a young new independent journalist decides to write about something other than the typical run of the mill stories, she is introduced into a new life, just not in the way she expected. ooOoo Chapter 1: MommyslittleBiggurls.com 22 December 2021 Hello Friends! It sure has been a while! I hope you’re all doing well on this frosty morning. Here in Montana, we’re certainly going to have a white Christmas. Sugar and Cookie sure are excited to see Santa and have been extra careful to be good girls; always asking for the potty like good little girls, eating all of their veggies at dinner and making sure to drink all of their babas full of yummy milk! I’m sure you all are experiencing the same with your little ones at the moment, even the disobedient can’t ignore the happy cheer of Christmas. I really can’t believe it’s only been three months since we first adopted our newest little girl, Honey! Of course with new littles, it’s always an adventure and Sugar and Cookie are being the best big sisters they can be! It can be hard, especially around the holidays to deal with an un-regressed, naughty little so that brings me to the topic of today’s post: Punishments. If you're like me or are a new caregiver, it’s never easy training a new little and before they can be our sweet little babies, they will be literal demons! It is never fun but in order to nip that naughty behavior in the bum, punishment is required and it is not always as simple as quick spanking. Listed below, you will find three different punishments to try if you, like me, were at a loss. Punishments: Punishment 1: Corner time with a twist Depending on the severity of the naughty behavior, instruct your little one it's corner time for a certain amount of time. While many, if not all, will just find this incredibly boring and whine, there is a small twist. Listen carefully to these five steps: Take littles’ clothes away (that means no diapers/pullups/or undies as well!), Give a nice soapy cold enema to their bum-bum and insert a buttplug to ensure no dribbles Administer a firm spanking (I’ve found different objects such as a belt or hairbrush to be most effective!) Little will bend down or kneel in the corner with their bum-bum high in the air for everyone to see After a certain amount of time, if the little has not moved from their position, you will instruct the little to tell you what they did wrong and have them beg to release their bodily functions. If you are unsatisfied with their response, even more minutes will be added to corner time Punishment 2: Potty Time with Horsy Let’s get real, we’ve all struggled with littles refusing to go potty in their diapers or on the training toilet and it’s a pain to have to insert enemas and suppositories into screaming littles. That’s how I came up with horsy time. The rocking horse, while meant to be an object of amusement during playtime, can just as quickly be turned into an object of torture. What you need to do is listed below: The little will sit on the rocking horse in only their bottoms, whether that be a diaper or pull-up Place earphones on little and set to the wet diaper hypnosis Instruct the little to rock back and forth and do not stop no matter what and not to mess or wet themselves Plan a certain amount of time and come back when the time is up If the little is still rocking and is dry, they have earned the privilege to go potty. If not, horsy time is extended and the dirty diaper stays on another several hours The constant rhythmic motion combined with hypnosis at the same timing will put the littles right in the mood to have to relieve themselves. How they do it will no longer matter. The added pressure to keep a constant rocking in order to avoid further punishment will take a heavy toll on their mind as well and increase the need for positive behavior. Punishment 3: No Playtime with Teddy If you choose to allow your little to have any sexual release, this punishment can have a rewarding effect. As a human race, we are sexual beings but not everyone deserves or should have such an experience. Littles have gotten it into their minds that they should be allowed to have such experiences, but what do they know? They’re just littles. It is our job as caretakers to instruct and control their urges. If we leave them to their own devices, who knows what will happen? My little girls are allowed one play session a week with Mr. Teddy Bear to release all of their icky cummies by the hand of mommy and daddy. While Rosie and Cookie know being a good girl will lead to happy feelings, Honey is still learning. Orgasm and cum denial or “the tickles and ice cream dance” as we call it, are an excellent way to assert dominance and make them quickly realize who the real grownups are and who is in charge. Mittens or restraints are a must for untrained littles! You never know where their wandering hands will end up! Chastity belts are also a great device, especially if they get a little too excited during playtime and try humping (which is extremely discouraged!) IMPORTANT: It is important to enforce anything sexual is not allowed without the approval, observation, and act by grown-ups because you never know when littles might accidentally injure themselves! I hope you all enjoyed my little list and hopefully it helps you on your journey to having a regressed little! It may seem tough at times but we’ve all gone through it before (I currently am!) Stay tuned for next time and meanwhile, have a Merry Christmas! Love, Mommy Bree ooOoo The sound of the ding signaling the post had been successfully posted was a happy feeling to say the least. Unknown outside the world of ageplay, Bree Hawthorne was as famous as could be within the community. With over ten thousand followers and readers, people tuned in from all over the world to read about their simple little family. Being a blogger on top of a mommy had become her full time job and she didn’t regret a single second of it. She always knew she wanted to have a family and her love for blogging couldn’t have been a more perfect combination. There were so many who envied to fill the role of a Hawthorne little but only so few could actually meet the requirements. That’s why they had taken to unique means of obtaining their little girls. Kidnapping was a bit too harsh a term. They preferred adoption. Did the public need to know that? No. Would they ever find out? Probably not. Looking around outside the large glass windows, the only view for miles was farmland with snow capped mountains in the background. Bloomington, Montana was the perfect place to go to if one didn’t want to be found. They had the freedom to be who they were without any nosey neighbors disrupting their lives. Her husband, coming from old money, allowed them to own lavish homes around the country, buy the newest high-tech adult-baby equipment and pay off those they needed to stay quiet. Everything was as it should be. Everything would soon be perfect. They were our babydolls. Sugar, Cookie, Honey and- “Another post?” Jasper. At the sound of his deep voice, she spun around in the swivel chair. Face to face with her blonde, strong-jawed, blue eyed handsome husband. He was everything she dreamed of in a man. Strong, smart, caring, loyal. A great daddy to their three wonderful girls. What more could a person ask of a spouse? “Yes. I’ve finished just in time for… lunch!” she exclaimed, glancing at the time and shutting down the macbook. “Today’s post was about punishments and I gave the best examples of Honey. How is she doing this morning actually? The baby monitor on her end has been awfully quiet.” she asked, having been in the office the entire morning working. “Sleeping.” was his only response, scowling with his hand over his face. “Do I want to know what happened?” “No.” It was always a struggle to tame the girl and her rebellious behavior and silly dreams. Most often then not her bum was black and blue, littered with marks and bruises. How a five foot, one-hundred-twenty pound girl with not an ounce of body fat had managed to give them this much a fight, they did not know. While the little blonde fought they pushed back just as hard. She would break eventually. They all do. “Sugar and Cookie are in the playpen writing letters to Santa,” that made them crack a smile. “I can feed them while you handle, Honey? I may just take her over my knee again and that’s not what she needs at the moment.” Bree reached out, wrapping her arms around his neck as his face burrowed into her kinky black hair, placing a trail of kisses upon her chocolate colored skin. “So it’s my turn to play the bad mommy,” she mused. “Precisely.” her husband cracked a smile. “It feels so much longer than three months since we got her. Remember?” Oh, how could they forget…
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Law of the Diaper - Episode 2 - Part 1 Meliora Lady Meliora Van De Natte sighed heavily as she relieved herself, urine spiralling down her leg and onto the clay-tiled floor of the hall. She sat at a long table, with many other guests in attendance, including her distant cousin, the King, himself. The floor was sloped in a way that allowed people’s pee to flow into the middle, where they were promptly drained away. Despite this, the floor was still wet, and reflected the gold trim of the high-beamed roof. The chamber was grand, regal, and -- to Meliora at least -- a little over-pompous. And to consider, she thought, that those babies in the north believe us to be barbaric. Meliora didn’t much like the haughty nature of the court, but barbarity? Ha! She scoffed at the very thought of it. The King was in the middle of another one of his showy-speeches, “...for many a year now. To think! Back then we were but insects on the world stage…” and Meliora was getting tired of it. As much as she detested these things however, they were necessary to keep the king satisfied, especially as she needed to talk to him with great urgency. But, the King was in the middle of making himself look good, so she decided to concentrate on her food, it was the only good thing about these feasts anyway. Sitting cosily on her silver platter, was a selection of smoked vegetables, steaming roast potatoes, and slices of Stalle, fried to perfection. Many years ago, so the holy texts said, when humans and non-humans were at war over food, the god Liefyr gifted the peoples of the world the plant Stalle, so they would cease eating eachother. Apparently it had worked, because sat around the table with her, where many a non-human. Not that anyone had ever put much thought into it. The days where tension grew high between species was long gone, relegated to the history books of old. At least here in the south. Court and country were a civilised place now, happy and harmonious. Well, country was, court perhaps not so much. Despite the relative peace in the presence of the king, tensions between individuals still ran high, especially behind his back. Opposite Meliora was Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf with a particularly sly canine-gaze. Like Meliora, he sat stoically, determined not to give anything away to his political enemies. Enemies like Meliora. Just look at him, she thought with a juvenile air of competitiveness, thinking he can beat me at my own game. She broke her stoicism, and her meal, for a brief glare at Aert, but before the wolf could return it, the King concluded his speech. “Thank you! Thank you! You have been a wonderful audience.” the King waved magnanimously. He was kind, and often cared for the people of Plassenar, but unfortunately that came at the cost of any real power. Even now, one Kanniss Blomscheet, a wealthy sugar-merchant who’d been invited, was whispering in the king’s ear. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner however, and she to no one else. Her neighbor, Lady Halene Goudenel, was chatting idly to the man next to her, a lord which Meliora didn’t know. Meliora continued eating, ignoring the two chattering, but halfway through their conversation, Lady Halene lifted her furry rear upwards slightly, and farted noisily. “Ahhhh,” she sighed, “I shall have to go to the mess-hall after this!” Halene waved her hand in front of her nose, looking around. Meliora hoped that the woman wouldn’t notice her, but alas, it was not to be. “Lady Van De Natte! I didn’t see you there!” she said, her talking companion going pale upon seeing who Halene was attempting to talk to. Halfway through a bite of food, Meliora made an attempt at saying ‘hello.’ It came out as more of a stuffed mumble. “Hello to you too! Wonderfully diverse platter today, wouldn’t you say?” Halene continued, determined to push through the awkwardness. She twirled her hair around one of her antlers aimlessly, waiting for a response. Meliora eventually gave in, swallowing her food indelicately. “Yes, I suppose so.” Unfortunately, it seemed that Halene took that as cause to persevere, because just as Meliora was about to resume her meal, the woman conversed again. “I take it you wish to see His Majesty after we have concluded.” It was a statement, not a question. For some reason Meliora felt a child crawl through her. Suddenly she was on edge, and she felt another trickle of warm urine down her bare leg. No one spoke to Meliora during dinner. No one. Did she want something? Meliora realised that she had been quiet too long. “Yes, my Lady. I do. Is there something you wish to ask?” “Oh, no. Actually, I was hoping to speak to you afterwards. However, I understand that you’re busy.” Halene said. Meliora wasn’t sure how to respond. She rarely spoke to Lady Goudenel, her being on the High Council for only a few months. Meliora hadn’t gotten a good read on the woman yet, she was still somewhat of an enigma, and that scared her. It was a strange feeling -- Meliora couldn’t remember the last time she had been scared. Should she accept? This would be a good opportunity to understand the woman a little better. Maybe Meliora would gain some information on one of the other council members. It was a tempting prospect. “Unfortunately not tonight,” Meliora said eventually, “but --” “It isn’t at all urgent,” interrupted Halene, waving her arm toward the table. “When are you next available?” “It may not be for some time. If all goes well I aim to be out of the country for a week or two.” “Well, that just happens to be the subject I wished to bring up.” Halene asked with the dimmest flicker of a smile. Despite herself, Meliora smiled back. “I should have room for tomorrow afternoon, if that will suffice.” “Wonderful!” the woman said with an excited nod, complimented with a wide grin, “I look forward too--” Ffffttttt. The odorus noise spilled out from her seat. “Oh dear. This food really has got the better of me. I do hope this all finishes soon, or I may have to relieve myself here!” Halene giggled at her little joke, and returned to her dinner leaving Meliora to ponder what she had gotten herself into. By the time everyone had finished, the King was ready to retire. He bowed, waved his hand, and excused guests, some of which tried to hound him. Meliora would have to get in quick. Thankfully, some of the people going after His Majesty, were some of her own. Magist Gaerdt and his young apprentice, a feline girl in her twenties, were trying to push past the guards. Knowing that they’d never get past, they were instead preventing the King from leaving quickly enough so that Meliora could catch a word. Fortunately, Meliora was very much respected by the guards, and they let her pass with no small amount of reverence. She had to admit, she liked the effect it had -- as if the oceans were parting for her. It made her feel strong and powerful. “Your Majesty, if I could only-” Gaerdt croaked, before Meliora glided past. “Your Majesty!” she said, bowing gracefully. She wouldn’t have much time to convince him, only a sentence or two. This would have to be done carefully. “May I have a word? It is of the utmost importance.” The King stopped in his tracks, lowering his head respectfully. “Lady Meliora, I’m sure you have much to say, but can this wait? It is late and I-” “Well …” Meliora countered, “I was going to ask about next week’s summit. I would very much like to ask you some questions, run some ideas past you. After all, most of the men here are on the wizened side of wise. You have a much more contemporary view of politics.” Long ago, Meliora realised that to survive court politics, you had to be brutal. You had to systematically hunt down your enemy’s weaknesses, and exploit them ruthlessly. The King liked clever words, or at least words that sounded clever to him, and a little stroke of his ego wouldn’t hurt either. Merchants were good at that, hence their power in his court. Luckily so was Meliora. Clearly it had worked, because the King seemed to be considering her proposition. “Oh, all right. But we shall have to talk in the mess-room, I’m getting rather desperate.” The King finally conceded. “Gaerdt,” said Meliora, turning to her Magist, “Please wait for me in my quarters, we have much to discuss afterwards.” “Yes, Lady.” he replied, and he and his apprentice bowed. “Come Narriss, we still have to find that book.” and with that, the aging man hobbled away, the young feline apprentice helping. Meliora and the King were escorted to the mess room, the King dribbling pee behind him as he walked. Usually, due to the sterile nature of urine, one could relieve themselves wherever they wished. Excrement, however, was not so sanitary. Peasants usually messed themselves as they toiled, using it as fertiliser for their fields. Here in the city however, designated mess-halls, or in the King’s case a private mess-room, was where people went number two. The room was somewhat large, big enough for multiple people. At the far end were two windows and a small balcony, bordered by the Plassen flags -- brown fabric, with white and golden waves. The King often held meetings here, so there was seating, golden chairs with silk cushions. The floor was the same clay tiles of the dining hall, each bearing the royal standard. Meliora made a move towards a chair opposite the King, who upon entering immediately pulled his pants down, starting to fidget. Meliora herself was wearing a dress, much preferred when desperate. Watching as the King leant over his seat, pushing, Meliora thought of what she was going to say, how she would approach this. It was important, and the King needed to understand what was at stake here. “Gggggrrrrrggg” he groaned, pushing out two long logs of poop. They snaked out of him, and coiled around each other neatly onto the stained cushion below. What am I going to say? What would convince a man to go to war? “Ahhhhhh …” sighed the King in relief, a few loose farts escaping. He sat back down on top of his mess, pushing it into the cushions with an audible squelch. Then, just as Meliora got an idea of how to approach the topic, he wriggled his bottom, pushing the poop around. Prince or peasant, it didn’t matter -- squishing was one of the few feelings that everyone enjoyed, Meliora included. A spike of envy even shot through her momentarily, annoyed that she didn’t have to relieve herself, but she quickly regained focus. “Right then, Lady Meliora. What do you want to know?” “Well Your Majesty, first and foremost, do you have any ideas about approaching the treaty?” she asked. The King looked slightly taken aback at that, and Meliora had to force her face to keep straight. “Whatever do you mean, Lady? I was under the impression that they had already agreed to sign it?” “Well yes, they did imply that.” Meliora said, steering the King into the position she wanted. “But we know the North cannot be trusted with matters as serious as this. They are frivolous and fickle, thinking only about their play and not their work. You don’t really expect them to be that consistent do you?” Meliora didn’t really lie. It was cause for concern. These northerners knew nothing of hard work and labor, many lived in luxury, playing all day. “I had assumed--” “With the utmost respect your Majesty, that is exactly it. You assumed.” “You didn’t come here to ask me for help did you?” He looked like a child being told off. Perhaps he was ashamed that he had been so naive. Meliora almost felt bad. But he needed to know. He needed to understand. Meliora respected the man’s kindness too much to lie about something like this. “My King, if I may speak frankly?” she waited for him to nod his head, and then continued, “I don’t believe any good can come of this summit. The people of Luin … they’re not like us. They won’t sign this treaty, there’s too much that they gain from war.” “What could they possibly gain from war?” the King asked, leaning forward. “Weapons sales, unity through common enemy, certainty in a changing world.” Meliora sighed, it was a harsh truth that war was so simple. Contracts, treaties, negotiations, why bother when you could just engage in conflict? There was a deep silence between the two. The King had his face in his hands, thinking. Meliora had to tell herself that she was doing the right thing. Of course she was. The King only wished his people had the same luxury that the Luiners had -- he could be a great King, truly great, if tempered by the ruthlessness of his aides. Why was it so hard to watch this man accept that war was inevitable. Was she as ruthless as she thought? “Meliora,” the King said suddenly, raising his head from his hands, “I hear what you are saying. I really do. You don’t trust Luin, and you want to strike before they have the chance to lure us into a false sense of security.” “Yes. Yes, Your Majesty, that is precisely it--” but before she could continue the King interrupted. “I’ve never told anyone this, but when I was a prince, my father took me to the front line. The regalia and glory of war was appealing to a child, and I went with glee. But when I arrived it was nothing like I thought. The place stank of death, of decay. There were bodies lined up in the streets of camp, sometimes in piles. It -- I still have nightmares. But I had never thought more clearly than in that moment. I bent down to one of the bodies, and …” the King stopped. He seemed distant, as if scared to go back there, to that place. Meliora hadn’t seen him like this before. “... And I bent down to say my prayers to one of the fallen. It was a boy, Meliora. A boy of twelve years old! I can’t remember what caused his death, only that his face was death itself. His eyes were empty. His soul, gone. Imagine what was taken from the world. Imagine the potential that boy might’ve had. All gone in an instant.” He stopped for a moment, his eyes slowly coming back into the room. Meliora was transfixed, “Lady Van De Natte, the other side may be very different from us, but I can guarantee their children have died too. Lives on both sides have died for a war they didn’t start. If they have a shred of humanity, and suspect they have more than a shred, then believe me when I say, they want to end this war as much as you or I.” The King was looking at Meliora now, directly into her soul. His deep, brown eyes yearning for peace, yearning for an end to this petty conflict. The ripple of doubt in Meliora’s mind had transformed. Great waves of torment, battered by a storm of guilt and shame, crashed and bellowed within her. They twisted her stomach, tugged violently at her chest. Could she be ruthless? I have to be. She had to be ruthless for the good of the realm. There was a long, final pause before Meliora spoke. She sighed heavily. “What do you want me to do, Your Majesty?” Narriss Narriss hadn’t seen anything like it before. The port in which the ship was docking was packed full of people. They brushed past each other, all heading to one place or another, like an ant colony. Even the capital hadn’t been this busy, or if it ever had, Narriss had been busy working with master Gaerdt. The gentle slosh of the ocean lapping against the boat, had been replaced by shouting, chattering, and a loud constantly-ringing bell. But what shocked her the most was what people were wearing. Some, like her, wore tunics and pants, robes and cloaks. But some wore onesies, sucked pacifiers nonchalantly, and underneath it all were the unmistakable bulges of diapers. In spite of this, the air smelt familiar. Sea salt and urine mixed in the air across the harbor, floating across the ocean beyond. Narriss’ closed her eyes. The wind blew gently through her fur, her tail swayed gently behind her, and her ears relaxed by her sides. She inhaled deeply, taking in the atmosphere of the place, and a strange peace came over her. A gentle, laminar peace. “Narriss.” A sharp voice from behind her said. She turned quickly, seeing Master Gaerdt standing there. “Come, we have business with Lady Meliora.” Narriss nodded, and followed her teacher down into the ship’s cabins. They had been travelling here, to the Isle of Ieder, for three days now, and she was getting sick of being bunged up in a tiny cabin with Master Gaerdt. She had complained out loud initially, which had been a mistake. “It gives you plenty of time to focus on your studies instead of napping then.” Master Gaerdt had said, never glancing away from his work. Though she swore she could hear a smile in his voice. Lady Meliora’s chambers were nowhere near as cramped as everyone else’s. As they entered, Narriss saw the familiar sloped floor, with a tile pattern running from under Meliora’s desk. It was glistening wet. The tile pattern continued past the centre of the room and rose again like the edge of a bowl, stopping under a plush-fabric seat. Lady Meliora herself sat at an ornate desk, silhouetted a little by grand windows behind her. Why don’t we have any windows like that? Narriss asked herself as she stood behind her teacher. Meliora scribbled something on a piece of fresh paper, before glancing up to Narriss and Master Gaerdt. She gestured for them both to sit. “Master Gaerdt,” she said, nodding to Narriss’ left, “Apprentice Narriss,” she nodded to Narriss, “Thank you for attending me here.” That was odd. Meliora barely seemed to notice Narriss normally, let alone speak to her. This was all strange. Something was about to happen, Lady Melliora wanted something from Narriss, but what could she possibly offer? She was just an assistant, an apprentice. A flash of dread struck through her. The Lady looked uncomfortable sitting at her desk, almost fidgety. She was never normally like this at all. What was going on? Meliora cleared her throat before continuing where she left off. “As you are both aware, we have a very important mission here on Iedar. To go over our aim again, Master Gaerdt, we want to establish relations to aid the signing of the North-South Disarmament Treaty, as requested by …. nnng … the King.” Meliora looked wholly uncomfortable after she said that, jostling in her seat. It was well known to the servants of Meliora, Narriss included, that the woman thought the war was still a necessary fight. Narriss had to agree. Unlike here in the south, Luin and the Dullen Isles (especially the former) were hostile to her kind. Plassenar was fighting for freedom -- freedom to relieve yourself where you wanted without punishment, freedom to be chaotic, and freedom to be different. If that meant tearing down their broken culture to achieve this freedom, so be it. “Now that all the official stuff is out the way,” Meliora continued, “I need to ask you two a favor. This stays absolutely confidential, do you understand?” she looked directly at Narriss as she said it, and without hesitating, Narriss nodded back. She wasn’t sure she liked the Lady, but the woman’s cause was just. “I cannot … nnn … I cannot believe I’m about to say this --” Lady Meliora went quiet suddenly, and began to wriggle more noticeably. She slid her rear across the velvet cushion of her seat. Narriss looked to Master Gaerdt, who only blinked in surprise. Meliora put a hand between her legs, and suddenly Narriss realised what was happening. As if she needed any more confirmation, Meliora quickly gave up, and took her hand away, said “Oh, blast!” rather more audibly than Narriss suspected the lady intended, and leant back in her chair. Less than a second later, she sighed as urine gushed out from under the table, hissing through Lady Meliora’s dress. Even from the other side of the table, Narriss could see a dark patch spreading on her clothes, as familiar as the blue sky. “Mmmmmmmaahhhh!” Meliora’s shoulders lowered and despite her usually reserved demeanor, a tiny smile flickered onto her face as she peed. She quickly finished and, evidently self conscious all of a sudden, straightened her dress before plastering on a calmer expression that contrasted oddly with her now scarlet cheeks. Silence punctured the room, and Narriss couldn’t help but look to master Gaerdt. However, he patently ignored her, focused on the Lady. “My Lady! Were you … were you holding that in!?” he said, visibly shocked at what he’d just witnessed. As if in defiance of what had happened, Narriss’ master let his own water escape, flooding his robe. Small rivers of urine, from both Meliora and Gaerdt, flowed into the centre of the room and were swallowed by the drain leading to the wooden cistern below. Meliora grew softly stern, straightening in her seat. “Not a word to anyone else on this ship at what you just witnessed, is that understood?” As shocked as she was, Narriss was the first to nod. She was used to taking orders, from Meliora, from Gaerdt, from any of her many superiors. But somehow Meliora didn’t feel so high and mighty anymore. Something about what had just happened made the woman less imposing, less regal. It was like a cloud had blotted the sun. Everything was still in the same place, but a certain luster had vanished. Narriss noticed Meliora looking at her, and she snapped her face back to impassiveness. Did the Lady notice? Eventually, Gaerdt followed with his nod of submission to the Lady, but Meliora just sighed, defeated. “I’m sorry you two had to see that.” she said somewhat sullenly, “These people, the summit, they expect certain behaviors from us, just as we do them. The deal was that they would be prohibited from going over-the-top with their regalia just as we do ours, to avoid offence. Part of that is … we are to relieve ourselves away from their notice during the meetings. I was practicing, here, now, and clearly I could not handle it.” “What restrictions have been placed upon them, my Lady?” Gaerdt looked to Narriss, appalled that his apprentice was talking without permission, but she couldn’t help herself. All this had gotten her riled up. Why should Plassenar have to bend to the will of another nation, just to sign some stupid treaty? Why should Plassenar suffer? However, Lady Meliora didn’t seem to mind. “That is a good question, Apprentice. In exchange for us being subtle about our culture they have agreed to hold back on their pompous clothes, and ... let ambassadors from different species into the meeting.” Narriss’ head boiled with indignation. Under the table, away from the view of the Lady, she clenched her fists, hard. Her hairs pricked up in defense, and she felt her face grow taught, struggling not to grind her teeth. Meliora was going through all this trouble to appease these people, when they should just treat everyone as equals. More and more, Narriss was growing angry at this whole twisted situation. The king, our king, wants to make peace with them? Meliora seemed to sense her utter frustration at the situation, and leaned forward. “I understand that this is hard Narriss --” “I’m sorry but you don’t understand at all.” Narriss snapped, half thinking. Gaerdt’s bemused face melted into anger at his apprentices’ impulsivness. But Narriss didn’t care. She was angry, and had the right to be so. However, Master Gaerdt had been teaching her to control that anger, focus it. “Apologies, my Lady, I shouldn’t have said that.” Narriss expected Meliora to be annoyed just as her master was, but the woman was strangely resigned about the whole thing. “No, it’s fine,” Meliora said, waving it away, “You are right. I don’t understand. This is why I have chosen you for the task. I know I can trust you, you’ve been with master Gaerdt here as long as any of my other staff, and your rank means you are in a prime position to understand both court and country in a way my friends simply cannot. But, more than all that, you are one of the people that Luin is trying to restrict. Your eyes, in that regard, see differently to mine. I grew up in a castle, in a place of privilege and luxury. I need to see what you see if I am to win this meeting.” “I’m sorry my Lady,” Gaerdt said, “Win?” “Quite, magister Gaerdt. No one wants peace, so even a small concession towards that aim will be a victory. But we need to focus. We need to practice. We need to keep calm.” Meliora said with the slightest hint of flourish in her voice. She was right. This was all too important to let anger take it all away. That’s what they wanted. Narriss breathed in deeply, centering herself. The anger within her, that raging storm, spiralled in her chest. Slowly, carefully, she pushed upwards into her head. She drew power from it, cunning, and perception. Eventually, it was no longer anger, but a vague pool of energy. Narriss felt as if she could draw from it, take whatever she needed. Her stomach cramped slightly as she contemplated it, feeling something brewing within. But before she could put much thought into that, Meliora spoke up a final time. “What I need from you Narriss, desperately, is reconnaissance. I need as much information as I can get -- ideally what the very heart of their culture is. What I need is to see where they eat, change, and what they do when they’re not at these meetings. But even then I fear that I am still not prepared. I’ll be honest, I wish I could send Gaerdt but ... ” Lady Meliora looked down at the wet patch on her clothes. For the first time, Narriss saw fear on her mistress’ face. “This little demonstration shows our weakness. We need to hide it. We need to be discreet. Gods forbid it should come to this, but what I need is a diaper.” Narriss Waygar, the capital of Iedar, smelt of crap. Literal crap. This was a very strange place, chaotic and bewildering, far more so than even the capital city. Because it was a sort of neutral zone between Luin and Plassenar, both peoples went about their own rituals without regard for the other. Some, few, relieved themselves in the street, where they stood, not bothering to consider those around them. Just like home, Narris thought. But others wore gaudy clothes, onesies with bright patterns on them, frilly dresses, and sucked on pacifiers. They kept their business, and smells, hidden in the seat of their pants. Even here, closest to the Plassen crossing, these were in the vast majority. A group of Littles were huddled together just down the street ahead, one leaning against a stone wall. They were whispering conspiratorially to each other, one glancing over their shoulder. Narriss didn’t get a good look at their expression whilst she hurried past however. As she approached, a tall woman in normal clothes burst out of the wooden door next to them and ushered the group of littles indoors. Although she looked almost normal in that long green dress, Narriss could see the obvious bulge of a diaper underneath. The woman spun around to close the door, and a flicker of fear shadowed her face momentarily, before she fled inside. Narriss bowed her head to the ground, feeling her face boil, and her stomach growl. How was she supposed to actually find out about their culture if they did this? After wandering about for an hour or so, Narriss didn’t have much luck finding anyone who wanted to converse. It was difficult identifying any Plassener’s to talk to here. Besides being so very few of them, any she managed to approach seemed to scarper away, warily. She’d even tried going up to the guards, but they’d just growled and skulked away as well. This was all taking too long, the meeting was only in a couple of hours and she still had no information. ‘Plan B’ was the merchants. Not quite the everyday person that Narriss was hoping to find, but maybe it would work. Surely they wouldn’t pass down a customer? At the very least she could find somewhere to acquire a diaper. She’d been putting it off, though she didn’t quite know why. All this was so odd--the way the Luiners just waddled brazenly about in their baby-clothes, locked away under layers of padding. After a brief wander through the mud-laden alleys of the town, Narriss managed to find a small market selling a vast collection of things. One was selling books from an open-air stall nearby. Maybe he would be able to help. He was talking with someone else, a large woman with somewhat shaggy hair. She didn’t look much like a Little, so Narriss assumed she was a Big, the people who cared for the freaks that dressed up. As Narriss approached the stall, the woman glanced behind. Her conversation with the shopkeep died down to hushed whispers and, reflexifley, Narriss’ ears pricked up. Naturally, they were much stronger than human ears, and picked up the conversation without much hassle. “I hear they’re planning on invading, by migrating into Luin!” the woman said. The man simply nodded solemnly as if it was a sad truth to be accepted, like death or paying taxes. The man’s face scrunched up and he grunted quietly. At first Narriss assumed it was the topic of conversation that had caused such a reaction. But then she remembered the diapers. “Yeah, as if we don’t let them close enough already. That new deal’s supposed to make it easier for them to get in, y'know. I --” the man cut off as he caught Narriss’ eye. “No no, please keep talking!” Narriss said loudly. The large woman startled and clasped her chest with her hand. Narriss realised her face had gone tense. She tried to relax and calm herself but… “Speak demon and it shall appear.” the shopkeep said, glaring toward Narriss with the sadistically sly grin usually only seen in Wolf-kin. Then again, what did she expect from the people who invaded her home? “Demon?! Where?!” Narriss said, bathing in exaggerated, mock fear. This man would not get the best of her. He would give her all the information she needed, or at least point her in the right direction to find it. The woman glanced down at Narriss’ waist, made a disgusted face, and nodded goodbye to the shopkeep. Perhaps she’d noticed Narriss’ tail, or worse, her lack of diaper-bulge. Either way, she and the shopkeep were now alone. “It’s considered rude ‘round here to listen in on other people’s conversations y’know.” he said, almost growling with tension. Yet they consider us animals!? Narriss mused to herself. This place was horrible. Backwards. “It’s also rude to refuse paying customers.” she said to the shopkeep. Hopefully the promise of money would quell his anger somewhat. However, it seemed that she’d underestimated this man’s discontent. “I don’t want your grubby hands anywhere near me!” he said passionately, as if Plassener’s were known for being particularly dirty. Yet, they weren’t the ones who carried their waste against their backsides. Narriss raised her spotless hands in response. “My hands are clean as clouds,” she said, “And luckily for you I just need information. So I won’t be parting with any of my money today, sir.” The man eyed her for a moment. He seemed placated, if only slightly. “I don’t know ‘nuffin!” he said, crossing his arms. “Just go someplace else!” Narriss was starting to get annoyed now. This man was being deliberately stubborn, and for what? Maybe it was time for a retreat. If she couldn’t get the information she needed, at least she could get the diaper for Lady Meliora. “I just need to know where I can find a changing station.” there was a brief moment of silence. The shopkeeper's eyes widened slightly, clearly surprised why he was asked such a question by the likes of … well, her. “Is that some kind of joke? Why in the name of Liefyr does a shaggy like you want to know that?” he shook his head in disbelief. Narriss’ ears went hot. She hadn’t been called that word in a very long time. This slimy son of a bitch was clearly too stuck in his little mud-hovel to say anything productive to her. She was done here. Letting out a deep breath, Narriss turned and walked away. She’d find the godsdamned place by herself. Behind, she heard the man chuckle quietly. Willing herself not to turn and punch him, Narriss focused on her mission. However, the shopkeep made the mistake of thinking he had gained something in that little argument, and shouted across the market. “Yeah! Go back to your shithole in Plassen you hairy bitch!” That does it. Narriss felt a storm surge inside of her, and a sudden cramp in her gut. If the bastard wanted to be closed minded, so be it. He deserved everything he was about to get. She walked back toward the merchant, who went suddenly pale. Clearly he was expecting her to walk away. Maybe she should have. Oh well, Narriss thought, hopefully he’ll remember this. “Fine. You win.” Narriss said calmly, which only served to unease the man further. “If you won’t take a moment out of your day to help me find somewhere, then I guess I have no choice but to do my business here.” and she hiked up her dress. The man looked horrified, and stepped back into the recesses of his book-stall-cave. Narriss simply smiled, and bent over the wooden counter of the stall, so her bare rear was nearly touching the wooden countertop. Her tail swished behind her, brushing against the cool air. Then, grunting a little, she began to push, slowly releasing pressure in her bowel. To her slight embarrassment, she farted a few times, but that was nothing compared to what was coming. As she pushed, she felt a rather large ball of poop force it’s way out of her, sliding through, pinching off, and then slapping down onto the counter. She let out a few more farts, feeling much better now that her gut was empty. Her mess balled beneath her, forming a rather satisfying warm, and stinking, pile. Narriss looked to the merchant again, grinning slyly. His face had gone red, and he looked as if he was leaning against the wall for support. Narriss glanced about quickly, and noticed that there was a small crowd watching the incident. Although most Little onlookers looked horrified, a small group to the left sniggered at the merchant. A huddle of Plasseners also gathered nearby, smirking to themselves. “Thank you very much for your help,” Narriss said as innocently as she could muster, “I was beginning to get a little desperate.” and as a final act of spite, she pulled her dress down, and fell back to sit in her mess. It squashed beneath her, moulding to the shape of her rear. She wriggled about for a moment, before pulling herself up with a very visible brown stain on the seat of her dress. After all, why shouldn’t she wear it proudly? She made her way into the crowd, toward some of the watching Plasseners. They grinned knowingly at her as she approached. Finally, people who seemed willing to talk. She’d finally find out what was up with this place, which would be a solid start. How she was going to find diapers for Lady Meliora from these Plassen folk she did not know, but one step at a time. There was a chance the Lady wouldn’t even need a diaper if she managed to get the right information. As she approached the Plasseners, their smiles faded however. Narriss noticed they were looking at something behind her. A cold human hand suddenly gripped her left arm tightly, pressing against the fur. “Miss,” a woman’s voice, hard and harsh, said from behind, “Please, come with us.” Narriss tried to turn without jerking her arm too much. The woman was a guard, wearing the white-red colours of Iedar, but Narriss could tell she was a little. The guard’s hair was tied in pig-tails, and she could swear the woman had a diaper-bulge. “No! You don’t understand! I have important business here, under the command of Lady Meliora Van De Natte, of Plassenar!” and she tugged her arm away, but the guard who was holding her back simply grappled the other one. “I’m sure you are Miss, but we can’t just let people go poo poo on private property!” Narriss went quiet. Maybe she should have thought this through more. Damn! “Okay, okay, I’ll go with you. Let’s just make this quick.” “You’re not going to run if I let you go?” the guard said, and Narriss felt her tail droop instinctively. She wasn’t sure she could if she tried. “There are guards everywhere,” Narriss said, “I doubt I would get very far.” This seemed to placate the guard and she let go. Two more joined her and the whole retinue marched Narriss away. About two hours later, judging by the church bells, Narriss sat in her small cell, alone. The guards had brought her back to a modest gaol on the outskirts of Waygar. Almost immediately upon arrival, the guards had insisted on diapering her. Her hairs pricked up harshly even thinking about it. Despite how wrong it felt to have this bulky padding around her waist, she’d gone along with it in the interest of saving as much time as possible. It wasn’t all that embarrassing really, not after having dropped a mess in public. But it just felt so strange. How did people defecate in this? She felt a nervous twitch in her bladder at the thought. Afterwards, Narriss was able to present the guards with a royal seal that Meliora had given her, and someone, a while ago now, had gone to fetch anyone who could get her out of here. So, Narriss sat in her cell, left leg bouncing up and down erratically, albeit hampered slightly by the diaper now under her dress. The summit would start any moment, and she was here! She tried not to dwell on that too much. What have I gotten myself into? She thought glumly. What would the consequences be? Lady Meliora said that she had to behave with courtesy--well what if she needed to relieve herself during the meeting? Would the negotiations fall apart? Back in Plassenar, you’d just ... go. I suppose you’d do the same here, too. Just in a diaper instead of on your seat. Something about that felt dishonest and wrong. Pulling up her dress slightly, Narriss looked down at the diaper. She kind of needed to pee again, though the thought of doing it in that thing was mortifying. It surrounded her waist completely, locking away the freedom to go where you needed, trapping the mess next to you. Again, the thought of using the thing made her slightly disgusted. Although, she had to admit, it did feel quite nice when dry. Like a pillow, almost. Hesitantly, more out of curiosity than anything else, she poked the fluffy fabric. The diaper was so thick she could barely feel her finger beneath the padding. She poked it again -- THUD. The door to the gaol burst open, and a vaguely familiar woman stepped onto the stone-tiled flooring--that woman Lady Meliora was talking to at the feast. Her antlers sparkled gently with the fresh mist outside, and her nose twitched slightly. Her dress was almost as regal as her strides towards Narriss’ cell. “Well, well, well,” she said, moving towards the iron bars that held Narriss there. “We have gotten ourselves into a bit of a mess haven’t we?” “My lady!” Narriss said quickly, curtseying. Halfway through her bow, she realised that lifting her dress to curtsey would reveal her diaper. She felt her cheeks grow warm with blush as she saw a wry smile on the lady’s face. “Delved into the local culture have we?” “I-I-” Narriss couldn’t think of anything to say. To be caught like this! Embarrassment flushed through her. “It’s alright, young one.” the woman said, “I am Lady Halene Goudenel, I was sent by Lady Van De Natte.” her smile shifted, wry became warm. Narriss felt her embarrassment subside, albeit only slightly. “Guard!” she said loudly, and there was a clatter from the back-room as a onesie-clad guard stumbled in. “Please let my friend here out of her cell. I shall be taking her with me!” “I’m afraid I’ll need to see some--” before the guard could talk, Lady Halene thrust a piece of paper towards them--a writ of some sort. “Huet!” the guard shouted, and a second guard, presumably called Huet, emerged from the back. Unlike the first, he was not dressed in a onesie, rather somewhat normal clothing. He took the paper of the first guard, scanned it briefly and nodded. And just like that, Narriss was free. “Hurry my dear,” Halene said as Huet guard unlocked the door. Finally, Narriss went down to remove the cloth diaper from around her waist. Oddly, Halene stopped her. “No time, we must be on our way. The summit has already begun.” a jolt of fear burst through Narriss like lightning. She had let Meliora down. She’d let her country down. The two of them left the gaol. “Is the Lady okay?” Narriss asked. She and Halene moved quickly through the market outdoors, people from all directions rushing past. It was tricky walking with the thick padding between Narriss’ legs, so she mostly waddled along as best as she could. “She is fine Narriss. I’m sorry we couldn’t get you out sooner. She is glad to hear you are okay, but wasn’t best pleased when she found out what happened.” Narriss went quiet. So much for being discreet. Halene clearly noticed her contemplative silence. “It’s all right. She’s just a little stressed at the moment. I’m sure it’s nothing to worry about.” Narriss could only nod. “At least tell me,” Narriss eventually said, “Is the summit going well?” Meliora The summit had been going horribly. The representative of Luin hadn’t been budging on any of his points and, as expected, his implied acceptance of the treaty had been less than concrete. His sense of grandeur and power was seemingly only bolstered by the large pavilion under which they all sat, each politician perched like vultures along a large stone table. They were all dressed rather conservatively, not a single sign of the usual regalia that accompanied them-- bright colours, pacifiers, that sort of stuff. Only the occasional rustle of a diaper indicated that they were, in point of fact, from Luin. Surrounding Meliora were a team of Lords and experts from Plassenar. In particular, her Aide–Lord Griet–sat to her left, and Lord Aert Van Grizmanen, a wolf-lord, to her right. They were the pain with which she would colour her canvas. Meliora had sent her Wizard’s apprentice, Narriss, away to gather information to use against the Plasseners here, but she unfortunately had failed to make any sort of appearance. Then, after finding out that the idiot girl had been imprisoned, Meliora was forced to send Halene away to get her out, and even she had been taking her time. It had been over an hour now. Dammit, why was Meliora always clearing up other people’s messes! The talks had stalled since, but she forged ahead, at the behest of her king. She’d resorted to placing valuable resources up for trade, and what’s worse, there was also another, more personal, problem that was preventing her from concentrating fully on the remainder of this damned meeting. Meliora wiggled slightly in her seat, holding her pee in as best she could. That damned girl hadn’t brought back a diaper either. She’d just about managed to relieve herself elsewhere, along with her retinue during the brief recess they’d had, but hadn’t found the opportunity to go since. Just as she suspected, this visible weakness had opened them up to political attack. You’ll just have to hold it, she thought to herself, though rather more aggressively than she had meant to. Although she suspected that this meeting would be over shortly. “Lady Meliora!” The man opposite her–Lord Vauque De La Seule Couche, the cousin of the Queen of Luin–said with immense exasperation, “Surely you cannot be suggesting that we just remove our troops from Ile De Sommeil! You’d simply move troops in to displace them!” The man was, at this particular summit at least, not the bane of Meliora’s existence. That award belonged to the other Lords and Ladies gathered around the great stone table. Despite Vauque’s relative willingness to negotiate, she was still having troubles however. Unlike the other lords in Plassenar, she did not know the Luin people and their secrets. She clenched her fists, and her thighs, under the table in an increasingly vain attempt at keeping some semblance of composure. But before Meliora could respond, Lord Aert spoke–his pointed ears perked up, “Lord Vauque. We have all seen far too much bloodshed in the past few years to send troops into a foreign land where they will have no means of escape. No one wants a war.” Yes! Meliora may have ‘locked horns’, so to speak, back in Plassenar, but here that sharp mind could be put to good use. She knew bringing him was a good idea. Meliora nodded, and continued, “Ile De Sommeil, much like this beautiful island here,” and Meliora tore her hands away from holding herself to gesture to the landscape around them, “Could flourish with trade between our two great nations. You have our word, my word, any troops we do send will integrate into a mixed set of guards for the island with your own troops. In return we ask only that your troops do the same, and we shall be open to trading in coal, iron and gold from our prosperous mines down in Modemeer.” This seemed to give Vauque pause for thought. There was a moment of quiet while he stared past Meliora, interrupted only by the gentle grunts of another lord beside him, who was obviously filling his diaper. Oh how she wished she could let herself go like that! As much as Meliora tried to distract herself with thoughts of the meeting, the fresh earthen-stink that floated through the air only served to remind her of her own relief, or lack thereof. She pressed both of her hands into her lap as subtly as she could, but caught Lord Aert in the right corner of her vision, glancing concernedly at her, his tail stiff, and hairs raised. Clearly he was in need of relief as well. Please hurry, she thought. Vauque looked down, smiling gently, and Meliora’s heart leapt. He sighed, and, to every Plassen Lord’s surprise, slowly began nodding. She met his eyes eagerly. “I am open to these terms,” he said. Yes! “But we still have things to work out. I must talk with my superiors, and you with yours.” Meliora smiled broadly. This had worked out well. Not as well as she had been hoping for, but well enough. It was a solid start. “I couldn’t agree more, though I think you’ll find the King very enthusiastic about this deal!” Meliora said. Though Vauque didn’t quite have the reaction she expected -- he almost chuckled to himself. “I must admit, I do find myself wanting to trust you, Lady Meliora. However, I also find that my trust is a little more cautious for your King, who seems more content making deals with sugar-merchants, than running your kingdom himself.” Vauque said. Meliora’s smile vanished. Perhaps she should have tried to contain her shock, but her need to pee was taking up that space inside of her instead. “How did -- how did you find out about that?” she said. Vauque opened his mouth to say something, but before he could a messenger boy waddled up behind him, and whispered something in his ear. His eyes went wide momentarily, and he gestured for the boy to leave before standing up. The lords and ladies from his side of the table all followed suit. Meliora still sat, half out of shock, and half because she wasn’t sure she could stand without wetting herself. The other members of her side glanced expectantly. “Lady Meliora,” Vauque said sympathetically, “I would stand if I were you.” Meliora frowned. What was this? Still confused, Meliora stood as carefully as she could. It was just in time too, because as she tried to scrape together what little composure she had left, two young men, each dressed in colourful blue uniforms, strode onto the pavilion with trumpets in hand. Meliora was beginning to shake, both mentally and physically. All of this was so confusing. Was it planned by Lord Vauque in an attempt to intimidate? Maybe he knows about my bladder situation, she thought tensley, and he’s stalling for time. Her cheeks began to burn red as she felt all the tables’ eyes on her. Meliora attempted to move them to her side, feigning composure. She was attracting glances from all around now. Hopefully this wouldn’t last long whatever it was, though Meliora had to admit, she had a bad feeling about all this. The trumpeters raised their instruments and rumbled through a regal tune. Then a third figure, this one wearing a bright, frilly yellow dress, short enough that it barely came halfway over their diaper, stood at the entrance to the pavilion as the trumpeters left. “Ladies and gentlemen,” they said to the row of Plasseners, some of whom were beginning to squirm a little, “Boys and girls,” and they looked to the opposite side of the table -- to Vauque and the other officials from Luin and Dullen, “And representatives of the land, I duly present her Royal Highness Queen Amée De La Seule Couche of Luin, Keeper of the Seven Swords, Guardian of the First Crib, and Herald of the Winds of Puer.” Shit. After that mouthful, and a minor moment of private panic on Meliora’s behalf, the announcer bowed and backed up, before parting to the left of the entry. And then, the Queen of Luin herself entered. Flanked by two guards in the same uniform as the trumpeters, a woman in her mid twenties flowed into the room. And flowed was the right word to describe the sight. Although she seemed to radiate a pompous regality in that massively oversized frilly tutu, and despite her waddle at the blatantly thick diaper that coddled her (in fact, it looked thicker than almost any other Meliora had seen), she was still as graceful and gentle as the wind itself, as if she had been born a particularly beautiful peacock. For a brief, blissful moment, Meliora forgot about her need to urinate, and followed the table’s awed bowing and curtseying. This may have been a mistake. As soon as she attempted to lower herself into a curtsey, she felt her bladder pang, and released the tight grip of her urine in surprise. A tiny dribble spat out, and warmly twisted down her leg, before she managed to regain control. As a small wooden throne was brought up behind her, the Queen nodded regally and they all sat. It was slightly easier to maintain control like this, and upon sitting, her hands were able to snap back to hold her crotch. She began to wiggle slightly in her seat. To her left, she could swear she heard a small fart from Lord Griet, Meliora’s aide. However, no one else seemed to be paying attention to that, their energy instead focused on the Queen. “So, it seems I am in the graces of some of the finest political minds in the land!” she said, puffing up her dress slightly as she brought her hands down in excitement. “Yes your majesty!” Vauque said. “I believe you already know our people,” and Vauque gestured to the two representatives to his left, “but we also have Lady Moren Wystwith, of Dullen,” a lady to Vauque’s immediate right nodded in recognition, “along with Lady Meliora Van De Natte, representing Plassenar,” and Meliora felt all eyes cast upon her as she tried to keep herself together. She stopped wriggling for a moment to nod towards Her Majesty. Gods it felt awful to stop! “A pleasure to meet you both!” the young Queen said. As soon as she began chattering again, Meliora resumed her little … what was it those Dullener’s in the north called it? Ah yes, ‘potty dance’, hiding behind the safety of the table. The Queen smiled at everyone before continuing, “Please apologize for my intrusion, I was in the area and was merely curious as to how these sorts of proceedings functioned.” The Queen was newly appointed, her father apparently having died in battle, during the most recent Pacification War. But Meliora didn’t have much time to dwell on that, she had to force herself to remember to smile and nod when Vauque began to recount the meeting. As she pressed her hands into her lap as hard as she could, she noticed her dress growing slightly damp. Was she leaking already?! Gods, not now! Maybe I should look down to assess the damage… No. That might give everything away. She was becoming really desperate now, holding herself as best she could. She felt the urine pressing against her bladder, begging for release. Meliora glanced towards the others on her side of the table. Some of them, too, were wriggling slightly in discomfort. Compared to them, the opposite side were eerily calm. Lord Vauque, whether oblivious or not, took his time informing the Queen, who sucked serenely on a pink pacifier a servant had provided her. To make matters worse, just as Vauque’s conversation was coming to an end, Halene and Apprentice Narriss decided to return. Lady Halene was visibly stunned to see the Queen, and slowed her rush to a walk, whilst the young apprentice moved to the seating outside of the pavilion, with the lesser officials, and looking rather ashamed. And was she waddling? The Queen broke off her conversation with Vauque, removed her pacifier, and looked to Halene perturbedly. “And you are?” she asked with an air of surprise. “Lady Halene Goudenel, Your Majesty.” Halene said with a curtsey. Although the Queen seemed a little mollified by Halene’s obedience to procedure, she placed her pacifier on the table instead of resuming. “Well, welcome Lady Goudenel. Do we have any more surprises awaiting us?” She looked at everyone around the table. Meliora was tempted to say that they might have a rather golden surprise if they continued much longer, but thought the better of it. Damn, she wasn’t thinking straight now. She felt another quick burst of pee release, dampening her dress. It was fortunate she was wearing dark colours, because she felt a large wet patch under her rear. “So, Lady Halene, why do you join us only now?” “Oh, I was just taking a quick break from the summit, your majesty.” Halene said. “Yes, I’m sure it must be wearing on you, what with your odd lack of diapers. Though I do hope you remain in my presence for the remainder. This all sounds quite thrilling.” It seemed almost like a threat. A few of the Luin delegates chuckled slightly, though Meliora noticed Vauque’s silent refusal to join in. The Queen only seemed bolstered by the reaction she’d gotten however. “In fact, I’m surprised that none of you have wet yourselves yet! What with all the rumors about you people and your barbarity.” the Queen directed that one straight at Halene, and it was quite clear what she was intimating. A general chuckle from the opposite side of the table didn’t help either, though once again Vauque just reddend, looking embarrassed. A furious blush enveloped Halene, and Meliora saw her fists clenching. “Please excuse my potty mouth. I find the differences in our cultures fascinating, but clearly the more concerning aspects are exaggerated. You seem to be controlling yourselves finely today my lords and ladies. One could only imagine if …” Meliora stopped listening to the queen. The bursts of urine were becoming more and more frequent now. Please let this be over. Please let this be over! All this pee-talk was taking its toll. The warm, damp patch on her rear was growing slowly, trickling into the chair beneath, and Meliora realised that she had fully begun to wet herself. All she could do now was delay the release as much as possible. Meliora saw Vauque glance at her, and blissfully, he cleared his throat and spoke, “Well, I believe that’s been quite enough for today. We have a busy time ahead of us, let us make the most of it!” and he raised his wine glass. Everyone around the table followed suit, though thank the gods no one drank, and they scooted their chairs back. Almost there! Her backside felt wet with warm urine, and as they stood, she felt the cold air get to it. If she could only hold it for a few more moments, just a few more … But the movement was too much. Meliora’s bladder spasmed, and she momentarily let go. It was impossible to hold again. There was little else she could do but gasp, as Meliora felt a sudden stream of warm urine burst out from between her thighs. An utterly blissful wave of relief flooded through her, rippling up her back, as she let her pee go. She sighed heavily, her eyes fluttering in pleasure. Maybe she could have gotten away with a small wet patch on her dark clothing, but this was simply too much. She felt her pee hit the front of her dress, soaking a glistening warmth into it, and putting on a show for the whole table. As her stream slowed, she opened her eyes and blushed as gobsmacked expressions from the other side greeted her. There was no uproar, no shouting. The Queen simply watched in petrified horror, before eventually striding around to Lord Vauque. She whispered something utterly inaudible in his ear. Those around him seemed to have heard however, and sly grins crept onto their faces.Vauque himself only frowned, almost angrily, holding his tongue. She turned and faced Meliora directly. “It seems that I was wrong.” she said quietly before twisting around, her frilly tutu following her moments after in a spiral, and striding away from the Pavillion. The remaining delegates, Meliora included, were left stunned. She looked to Vauque for answers. All he offered was a look of sympathetic resignation. “I’m sorry.” he said. And with that, his side of the table all left the pavilion as well, leaving a very wet Meliora, and her allies, alone. END OF EPISODE 2
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“DAAAD!”, Mikey whined, almost crying, “Suzy spilled the baby powder!”. She had been arguing with him for the iPad and when he yanked it out of her hands – she grabbed the bottle of baby powder and threw it at him – it had hit him and burst everywhere. “Suzy! That’s it! Now you’re gonna get it!” said Daddy sternly. Mikey and Suzy we sitting on the floor on the colorful Winnie the Poo carpet surrounded by playthings, cribs, a diaper change station and a pile of baby cloths. They were both just in white puffy adult diapers and nothing else, Suzy’s small breasts exposed as she sat defiantly and frowned at Mikey. This was all an act by them for Daddy, but lately they had both been feeling more and more as if this was all reality. Mikey was 22 and she was 20. They had both dropped out of college a year ago and were broke and flailing in downtown Minneapolis with no real hope - and kind of resigned to their fuck up fate as they were lazy and had no real prospects. They were quite good looking and not above turning tricks for money. About 6 months ago they had answered an Ad in the local alternative paper posted by a sugar daddy, looking for male and female adult babies/ Diaper lovers to take care of indefinitely – all expenses paid in a luxury high rise penthouse. Neither had any interest in this fetish but, in their desperate state, they jumped at the chance. They were both pretty and had slight builds, They were very skinny, tattooed, pale and undernourished looking when they arrived, but now had cute baby pot bellies now that Daddy had fed them so well since. Suze had small almost non-existent breasts and Mikey had a very small penis- they had shared naked photos with “Daddy online and he had accepted their application saying the were “perfect”. They both had dark thick unruly hair, on their heads only - as they were completely waxed and shaved smooth everywhere else on their bodies. “Daddy’s got a special punishment for YOU little girl”, Daddy said as he crossed the room towards her. He pulled her up to her feet. Daddy was a very large muscled and heavy man, he towered over both of them and maybe had 30-40lbs over both of them combined. He put is big hand down the back of her diaper. “Ah, you haven’t done your poopies yet today, hmm? But I bet you need to soon, don’t you?”, he asked. They had both heard her tooting a little and squirming on her bummy on the floor a few times about 10 minutes ago. “Well, DADDY has to go too!”, he said as he laid her down on a blanket and started tearing the tapes on her wet diaper. She wasn’t sure what she was in for - daddies punishments had progressed to ever increasingly imaginative tortures in the last couple months. She accepted them all willingly and found that she enjoyed the depravity and humiliation more and more. She shuddered and gasped a little as the air hit her bare, hairless, pee wet pussy. He pulled down his boxer shorts and squatted over her open diaper facing her. He started grunting as he pushed out his big turd. “Uh…. You’ve been a very …Uh….BAD girl”, he struggled as he strained and closed his eyes. “No Daddy, No”, she whimpered quietly, but accepted her punishment, spread her legs wide, and tucked them up towards her chin… her face turned away and blushing. Daddy’s thick hard log dropped slowly between her legs. It was huge and she felt the heat of it near her exposed pussy lips. The tail end of it fell against her inner thigh and she whimpered again. He finished, sighed happily, and wiped himself with one of their baby wipes then threw it on her lower belly. “Lets get you aaaalll fixed up now”, he cooed deviously. Daddy then took the sides of her diaper and refastened the tapes, making sure to tighly smush the mess against her lower parts. He grabbed a pair of latex panties from the baby change station an pulled them over her diaper – the panties were very tight and had longer legs and waist section, which tapered to prevent any leaks from escaping. She gave a shuddering moan as daddy’s hot load pressed firmly up against her pussy and bumhole as the plastic pants tightened around her. The massive poopoo was very dry, hard and lumpy… and when she squirmed sightly in the plastics, it slid over her clitty in a not unpleasant way. “aaaww, daddy”, she moaned whimperingly as tears came to her eyes. He picked her up, carried her to her crib, plopped her down hard into it (delighting in her gasp as the log pushed inside her slightly) and locked her neck collar to the side of the crib. He put a ball gag in her mouth, and locked it around the back of her heads o she could only moan and whimper and not give him any guff back. “There you go naughty girl – you just think about what you’ve done.”, he smiled. She tried to get comfortable – but any move she made only pushed the stinky daddy poop more against her lower regions. There was no room it the skin tight plastic panties pressing her overfull diaper so snuggly against her. She also knew she was about to poop her own diaper right before this incident occurred, and since she was sitting cross-legged on the floor, had probably kept it in held in too long. She really had to go now, but there was no room left in the diaper. She tried to push - but her poopoos wouldn’t come out against the pressure. Mikey watched her face go red with exertion trying to push her girl poopie out against the tight diaper. He always liked watching when Suzy did her diaper poos, it turned him on to see her face contort and concentrate - then catch a wiff of her stinkies as it filled the room – then the satisfied relaxed smile and glazed eyes as she finished and noticed him looking….. His little peepee would be standing straight up in his diaper and he’d have to go over to his stuffed animal toys and do rubbies against them until he made cummies in his diaper. Daddy FORBID them to touch themselves or each others privates – so they would have to do what they could against objects in the playroom INSIDE their diapers. He little boy clit was hard as he watched her struggle and contort her body trying to find some room for her morning poopoo in the destroyed sealed diaper. Daddy was watching this too – and Mikey saw the bulge in his boxer shorts as his 10” big daddy cock stiffened and he started rubbing it. She tried every position but it only pushed against her little open bumhole harder. She was sweating as she settled on lying on her back and arching to try and squeeze out little nuggets of poo at a time. As she pushed her poops out little by little, it just increased the pressure of daddy’s hard packed log against her pussy – making her gasp with an almost orgasm every time she pushed out a little piece of her massive poo. “Ahem! It takes TWO to tango young man!”, Daddies voice startled Mikey out of his horny trance staring at Suze. He saw Daddy staring hungrily at him and his stomach shuddered. “Daddy needs to punish his little naughty boy too!” His little hard peepee faltered a bit, and a flood of warm pee escaped into his nappy as he knew what was next. “OK, Daddy.” He whispered submissively. Daddy pulled the cushioned foot stool directly in front of Suzy’s crib and motioned Mikey over to it. Mikey crawled, like a cowering puppy that had just pooped the floor, over to stool, bent over it facing the struggling and moaning Suzy(in her own poopy nightmare and not noticing anything else around her), and pulled down his freshly wet diapy - exposing his smooth tight bummy and pink quivering boy pussy towards daddy. His little excuse for a cock had shrunk to its normal 1/2”, and his little rosebud pucker was clenched and expectant. Continued in Chapter 6….