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Preface: In 2013 I made a choice. I was at the lowest point of my life. Everything was falling down around me. My job disappeared, my friends were all connected with the job and they soon disappeared, and worst off we had a failed pregnancy and couldn't deal with it. I was numb to all of it, I was disassociating more than I ever had in my life. It was like I was watching a TV show about a loser. Around this time Sarah took shape in my mind and I began expressing my kink and my gender confusion in ways I'd never had before. Before long I wanted to be Sarah more than I wanted to be me and my wife wanted neither of us. The fork in the road lay before me, runaway or stay. I didn't run and I tried really hard to make things better, and things did get better. Like most stories I write it starts with some reality and goes elsewhere. I recently had a dream exactly like the one described where Dakota is caught. I realized as I was writing this that I was channeling back to that time in my life where I had that choice, but this time the choice was made for me, or in this story, Dakota. I hope you enjoy. Page 1 Those awake and with very sharp eyes at 3:31AM of May 6th 2013 would have noticed a particularly bright shooting star. Those with sensitivity to the folding of the space time continuum would have noticed that a tiny quantity of space located 2.7 million light years had been coaxed into being present at two locations for the same infinitesimally small amount of time and that a measurable amount of matter and energy had been left behind. Dakota Taylor did not notice this. Dakota was asleep. The shooting star didn’t have a name, or at least a name that the human mind could comprehend so for the purposes of this story we will call it The Tourist. The Tourist zipped across the surface of the planet quickly soaking up as much information as they could. They found very little that interested them. The biped creatures were in a predictable cycle of rampant technology and well on their way to extinction. In their travels they had seen countless examples of this pattern. As the tourist glided over the countryside and towns they realize that the semi-intelligent bipeds here entered a state of rest and lowered consciousness at night. He examined the information on the many radio signals in the area and quickly translated the dominant local language. This was not all together interesting but something that piqued his curiosity was that some of the life forms here seemed to be at a heightened level of consciousness while laying dormant. The tourist recognized dreams but some were rather potent. The tourist was able to tune his senses to the phenomenon and one particularly loud consciousness drew his attention. He changed direction and in less than a second passed into this human’s room. If Dakota was awake he would have seen a small ball of dim light pass through the glass of his window and hover a few feet from his bed. The tourist focused his senses and projected his own consciousness into this being’s consciousness and began to observe his dream. Dakota was in his parent's home in the dining room, he was curled up in the fetal position against the wall his face in his hands and sobbing. He was in a little girl's satin party dress adorned with ribbons and bows. The dress wasn’t long enough to cover his bottom which was poofy and adorned with lacey rhumba panties. The tourist had only been to this world for a few minutes by this point and had no real frame of reference for the clothing, but found the style to be marvelous and quite comparable to the Ulasians he had visited some time ago. “You weren’t supposed to come home, you weren’t supposed to see,” Dakota mumbled between sobs. The Tourist was curious and gently reached into Dakotas memory to watch the dream from the beginning. The dream started about 20 minutes ago, Dakota entered the house and immediately went to his room where he changed out of mundane clothes and began to dress in his current outfit. The Tourist had visited thousands of worlds and was familiar enough with biology to know that the poofy plastic garment under the dress was designed to collect and contain his biological waste.

I don't even know where to begin.... ><

So I was at work in a local resort the other day when a real life mommy was carrying her 14-18 month old baby through the lobby. the baby looked directly at me, pointed to me and said (quite loudly) "BABY!" many times. the mommy tried to correct her but she wouldn't budge from her exclamation. it made me blush and I smiled it off all the while thinking inwardly how right and perceptive that baby was!

I was gonna put the title as 'jealous of little kids', but I realised that would have come off in an incredibly bad way. Just to clarify, I'm not a paedophile.

The whole bedwetting-desires thing has come up in a few threads. Rather than posting my thoughts in a few separate threads I decided to take my ball and go create my own thread. I’ve been a DL for a long time, and I posted a few years ago the story of when I went almost 24/7 for almost two years. I think I pulled the story, though, because it contained a few too many details in this era of internet lack-of-privacy. The punch line of the story, though, was that I came out of it as an occasional bedwetter, for real. I didn’t mind at the time, and for a year or three (early 2000’s) I sort of encouraged myself, lacking any real relationships or reason not to. My (now) wife and I had been friends for a long time, and when we started seriously dating ~2005, it was relatively easy for me to break the news to her that I had occasional problems. I bent the truth a little; I told her that problems I had had during childhood had re-started due to work stress, etc., and that doctors had not provided any real solutions. Drugs messed me up, alarms just kept me from sleeping, etc. Even after we were married in 2006 I have not corrected this lie. The bedwetting was real, the reason was not. Issues with wetting came and went for me... for a month or three I’d be dry, and then I’d start having accidents for a random period of time, then they would become more and more infrequent, etc. During the times when I was wetting frequently I would wear a diaper, and while she wasn’t fond of the idea she preferred it to waking up in a wet bed. During times when I was “dry