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Found 5 results

  1. The day started out like any other. Sayrui was stirring awake in her bed as the sunlight shined down into her eyes from the window. She slowly stretched and glanced around the blurry room. Her eyes slowly widen as she realizes she wasn’t in her own bedroom. The walls were all painted blue and had butterflies painted on them as well. Her gaze lingered over to the future which looked to be bigger sized baby furniture. Finally she had sat up only to realize she had woken up in a white crib and covered by a light green blanket. She panicked and started to cry as she was sure it was just some nightmare and that she would wake up once she panicked enough. Slowly standing up to climb at the crib bars as she peers over at the bedroom door rather sure she heard the door knob turning. (looking for an RP partner, feel free to join. I’d much prefer longer post then one liners, thank you!)
  2. Peter’s Story He had no option, the river’s current was just too strong to swim against so he gave up and allowed himself to be carried along. Every now and then some flotsam or tree branch would float nearby but always seemingly just out of arms reach. He was way past panic; he was just waiting for the undercurrent to drag him to his watery doom. The rain continued to lash against him and the squalls whipped up the waves creating a sickening motion as he bobbed uselessly up and down. The storm was getting worse, the lightning scarily highlighting his plight and whilst he cried pitifully for help the thunder roared deafeningly in his ears… and then… A flash of light above him made him scream in terror but it was only his mother who’d turned on the bedroom light rushing to comfort her shrieking son. Peter hung tightly to her thankful that tonight at least he wasn’t to be swept away. His sobbing subsided but the realization that his bed was soaked dampened his slowly rising spirit. This was the fourth night in a week he’d wet the bed and no matter how much his mother loved and comforted her twelve year-old son, this couldn’t continue. Lying open on his bedside table was the culprit for the dream. Peter had been reading The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn and had somehow got himself tangled up in the river and Huck’s troubles. It was strange how his own imagination had not only embellished the story but made it so real. The battle with the river, the hellish storm, the sheer terror he felt, meant he’d peed the bed, again. His mother drew back his bedclothes to see everything soaked; his PJs, briefs, blanket, sheet, pillow and mattress. The only thing that appeared to have escaped the deluge was his teddy, Franky, who must have ‘swum’ to safety fairly early on. His mom sighed at the amount of extra work that needed to be done before she could retire for the night herself but set about the chore in her usual, no nonsense manner. Stripping Peter in the bathroom she told him to take a shower whilst she cleaned up his room. Everything was thrown into the hamper and the single mattress flipped. Perhaps, oddly enough, she was prepared for this. Peter’s older brother Damian had also wet the bed when he was younger. In fact from the age of five until he was almost fifteen Damian had problems getting to the bathroom at night. Then suddenly, and for no apparent reason, it was dry night after dry night and the problem appeared to rectify itself. Despite there being almost eight years difference in the brother’s ages their mother had kept all the things she’d needed to make Damian comfortable and hoped now to do the same for Peter. Damian was away at university so there was only Peter and his mother at home, father having long fled the family home and abandoning his second but newly arrived son. Thankfully, Peter’s grandparents had rallied round and helped them through that difficult time and a godsend from a deceased uncle had meant that, financially at least, she was able to cope rearing her sons. Having such a long a gap between each child was quite a surprise (as was the fact of being pregnant with Peter) and the responsibility proved too huge a problem for her philandering husband who took it as a sign to make himself scarce, something he’d managed to do successfully for over twelve years. That abandonment had hardened Janice, Pete’s mother, and made her determined that she wouldn’t be reliant on a man again. She had immersed herself in her two son’s well-being and made sure that both were well looked after and wanted for nothing. As she coped with her new baby she was also coping with Damian who was also wetting the bed. Diapering one or both of them made no difference to Janice; she just got on with the job. Damian only needed his at night and soon settled into the regime and of course baby Peter needed his all the time. He was slow to potty train but she didn’t mind, all her efforts went into making sure her boys were the happiest and most contented kids around. Perhaps strangely, Peter was out of his diaper before Damian but the two boys got on reasonably well, considering their age difference, and diapers were never an issue. Once Damian was out of them she simply packed all the things away in the attic, not imagining that they just might be needed on a future occasion. * As her son showered she went up to the attic and retrieved the box with all the things she needed: The rubber sheet to cover the mattress, the selection of disposable and fabric diapers, plastic pants for added protection and the cartons of wipes, lotions and baby powder that she hoped would still have retained the smell that she’d loved so much. In fact, just handling all those things brought back happy memories for her from when her eldest son had relied on her. Now he was a grad student he was too independent to need her fussing. She was both proud and upset when Damian went off to University, proud of his achievements but sad he was growing up and would no doubt soon have a life on his own. Meanwhile, Peter was growing up far too quickly, he was nearly a teenager and she couldn’t understand how the time had suddenly shot by. However, here he was, her baby son (he’d always be the baby to her no matter how old he was) wetting himself, having nightmares and relying on his mommy to comfort and sort things out for him. She relished the opportunity to look after her baby’s needs. When he returned to his room from the shower Peter was greeted by his mom who had cleared away all the wet debris, put new sheets and blankets on his bed and had a further surprise for him. She told him to lie out on the bed, which, as he was naked, he was reluctant to do. She gently mocked him for being embarrassed around her. “You’ve got nothing I haven’t cleaned and powdered hundreds of times so there’s no point in being bashful now.” She smiled and patted the bed for him to come closer. He still seemed hesitant and the fact that she was holding a strange looking package made him a little nervous. “What’s that?” He nodded toward the item in her hand. “It’s a disposable diaper.” She fanned it open. “You’re not planning on putting me in that… are you?” He asked incredulously. “Only while you are having these nightmares and wetting the bed.” “But mom,” he tried to be brave but could already sense it was a done deal, “I won’t wet again, honest. I’m twelve… mom… I can’t wear a diaper.” “Yes, you are twelve and do twelve year olds wet the bed?” He couldn’t answer that simple question so stayed quiet. His mother pushed her advantage. “Do you think it’s fair all the extra washing that needs to be done, the mattress that’s almost ruined, your PJs that stink… do you think that’s OK?” He shuffled his 4 foot 8 inch body nervously still unable to bring himself to answer. “Come here then and let’s get you back to bed and then I can get some sleep myself.” She held out her hand and he unenthusiastically gave himself over to his mother’s tender ministrations. As she rechecked that he was totally dry in all his nooks and crannies, she spread the lotion and sprinkled baby powder, all the while knowing she needed to put his mind at rest. “I’m sure this will only be temporary and, it is only at night when there is only you and me here, so, no one else needs to know.” She smiled encouragingly as she pulled the diaper up between his legs and taped it into place. Peter wasn’t happy but had no choice. He knew that over the past couple of weeks he’d made so much extra work for her and in truth he felt a bit guilty about the whole bed-wetting business. He blamed Mark Twain for writing such a great book and vowed not to read any more, hoping that alone would put an end to his night time misfortunes. His mother was delighted to be able once again to baby her baby and took great pleasure in making sure every bit of his diaper area was swathed in protecting cream and powder and that the disposable fitted him perfectly. She wriggled a pair of cream coloured plastic pants in place, much to Peter’s disgust, but a resigned sigh was all he could muster and the action passed off with no further argument. She pulled a t-shirt over his head, his mop of still damp thick brown hair bursting through the head-hole like a surprised little flower; it made her smile. She then drew back the bed clothes. He was going to ask for his PJs but thought he might get too hot with another layer of clothing on top so yawning he just crawled into bed. His mother gave him a gentle pat on his padded tush, told him to budge up, lay herself down and gently cuddled her son. She whispered that she was just making sure he had no more bad dreams and lightly stroked his hair and wrapped her arm around his waist; the slickness of the plastic pants giving her a wonderful sensation and reviving happy memories of when he was an actual baby. *tbc*
  3. Just a very short trip into my imagination. Pledge Diapers Part 1 The light was at red and said “DON’T WALK” and I waited patiently for the traffic to move away and the white “WALK” sign to appear to help get me across the road. As I hovered at the curbside on a fairly bright Saturday morning here in Los Angeles I noticed a plastic carrier bag in the middle of the crossing where I was about to walk. I could tell there was something in it as the handles fluttered around in the light morning breeze but the main part of the bag was weighted to the ground. “WALK” appeared and my curiosity grew as I ventured on my way. Bending slightly as I passed the package I caught hold of the flapping handles and, in one deft movement, scooped up the discarded piece of rubbish and carried it safely to the opposite kerb as if I was a garbage conscious member of the public. Once there I waited a few moments near to a trash can but pretended to be absorbed in something in a shop window acting as if distracted from depositing the bag in the bin. I also wanted to see if anyone would come up and claim the contents before I got rid of them. A few moments passed before I looked to see what the bag contained and was surprised to see a folded, but worn terry diaper. Although it was a particularly icky thing to find I noticed that it was rather large and far too big for a little baby. As I have more than a passing interest in all things ABDL, this to me was like finding a $50 bill; I couldn’t have been more excited at my discovery and good fortune. I looked around to see if anyone was watching but as usual, everyone just went about his or her business with little interest or regard for anyone else. I plunged my hand in the bag to see if there were any more items or perhaps an indication of whom the owner might be but my hand only met with the soft white fabric, which was damp and sticky to the touch. I was in ecstasy. A freshly used and abused diaper… mmmm… I just couldn’t wait to get them home. As I stood and fumbled with my soft but sticky prize I let my mind wander as to the possible owner. As I pulled it clear of the plastic bag… WHAM… like an electric bolt my head was suddenly assaulted with strong visions and eventually a clear picture formed in my minds eye. Instinctively, or perhaps via some form of cosmic energy, as my fingers fondled the cheap and messy fabric, the history of the diaper began to evolve to me. It was as if I was there, watching and making mental notes of the action. **tbc**
  4. SnuggleBunny It was a sad occasion. My mother had recently died and I was clearing out her home. In the attic were several boxes of her mementos but one had my name on it. It contained all my clothes, photos, albums and a host of things from my childhood going back as far as to when I was a baby. In fact, pride of place, at the top of the pile was SnuggleBunny, my stuffed toy that went everywhere with me as a child. It was a very strange emotion. I may well be a twenty-seven year-old adult but I hadn’t seen, or thought about it… well him actually… for over 20 years. However, with him sitting in the box, all cute and furry, I just wanted to pick him up and have a huge hug. Placed next to him, almost as if he was holding it in one of his paws, was a photograph of me. I must have been about 2 years-old at the time as I was still dressed in just my diapers, with my one year-old sister Emily sitting on the floor – and I was holding ‘Snuggles’ by one of his long ears. I remember he never left my side. We did everything together, played, ate, slept… SnuggleBunny and me… we were inseparable. When I hugged him I could feel him hugging me right back, it was as if he was welcoming me to a time I’d left far too soon. We were very happy then when mommy and daddy… er… when… errrmm… whe… mommeeeee………. ***************** “Mommeeeee,” I cried because I was wet. I could feel the dampness in my diaper and I suspect it must have been like that for some time as it was all cold and … Hold on, this doesn’t seem right. I look down. Yes, I am wearing a diaper. A very soggy diaper and I’m guiltily chewing on Snuggles’ ear while I wait for mommy to come. Those ears are well soaked themselves with a couple of years of me sucking on them when I want to feel comforted and I… No, no, no. What’s going on? I can see I’m dressed like in the photograph but… ah… I must be dreaming. That’s it. I’ve just fallen asleep and I’m dreaming of my childhood. Phew, I thought I was going mad for a moment then but… Dadddeeee. “Come here my little wet Puppy,” He had his arms spread as wide as the smile on his face as I waddled over to him and let him wrap those strong arms around me. He pats my butt. “Mmm you are one wet little boy aren’t you? Let’s get you changed before you get a rash.” He effortlessly picks me up and of course Snuggles comes along too, we are rarely separated as he carries me into… my nursery? Hell, what is going on? How can I be so conscious of all this and yet… I’m a child, a toddler and my father has been dead since I was six. But, but, erm, it really is good to see him again. I can’t tell you how much I’ve missed him every day of every year since he died and now… he’s here if only in my dreams. I cry and hug tightly onto my father’s neck. I don’t want to let go. I have my daddy back. Oh God this is weird and wonderful all at the same time. In all those years I’ve never had an experience like this, where my father, my daddy, is so real and… He lays me down on the counter and slowly unpins my diaper. “Who’s a soggy little tyke?” He smiles and tickles my tummy and I giggle and laugh and wriggle as he pulls the damp material away. As he wipes and powders me dry he’s making noises to keep me amused; blowing raspberries and counting my toes while singing a little rhyme. I love my daddy. I love my mommy as well but she isn’t here. Oh no. As I lay wriggling on the counter I realise that both my parents are dead… yet here he is… my daddy, changing me like he used to do. “There you are champ.” He says as he pulls up a pair of plastic pants over my diaper. “Let’s find you some pants” and goes over to the closet and gets my favourite shorts with the animals all over them. Oh yes. I’d forgotten all about them. I wonder if mom kept them as well. They were nice. Daddy pulls them over my diaper, pats my padded bottom and sends me out to play. Snugglebunny is with me so we carry on playing the game we were in the middle of when I realised I was wet. Snugglebunny is smiling. I’m smiling. I’m so happy. It’s a lovely hot day outside. Emily is asleep in mommy’s arms as she sits lazing in the garden under the shade from a tree. Daddy is bringing out lemonade for us all and I rush over to join them on the blanket that has been set out. It’s covered in Em’s toys so I sit with Snuggles and happily play with her stuff while she sleeps, and while mommy and daddy chat quietly about their day. I shake my head. I know this is ideal but, I really need to wake up and get on with clearing out the attic. How can I think that when I’m busy playing. Snuggles thinks I’m being silly and I feel worried about… something… I’m not sure what… I’m twenty-seven not two, although I am two. I look around and the voices in my head are screaming ‘WAKE UP’ in my twenty-seven year-old voice but look at me… I’m sitting in a diaper and plastic pants, drinking my juice from a bottle and hugging a stuffed animal that is… Snugglebunny wants us to relax and enjoy the sunshine. Mommy is saying something to daddy about my diaper and that she should try and get me potty trained as soon as possible. I just play with Em’s toys and feel… happy. STOP IT, stop it. Stop it. You have work, you have a business to run, you have a wife to get home to… that voice in my head is getting insistent but I snuggle my bunny and all is well. The warm sun, mommy and daddy, Em asleep and my stretching out on the blanket feeling dry and comfortable… why would I want to change anything? ***** SnuggleBunny 2 I was dozing but it was getting warmer and more uncomfortable. I woke up and the sun was streaming through the little arched window in the attic and right into my eyes, it took me a few seconds to remember just where I was. Specks of dust flitted through the rays and appeared to dance, float and perform just for me, I searched around for my parents and my sister but alas, they were no longer with me. I was alone and back searching through mum’s carefully stored items from her life. Because of the memory (dream) I’d just experienced my heart was sad. I’d been united with my family at a time when we were at our happiest and I was sorry to leave it behind. I really did have work to do and I had a wife of my own now. I shrugged my shoulders to myself, things hadn’t been going very well in that area, she wasn’t interested in me anymore and in truth, I couldn’t blame her, I was not the man she married. That fun, carefree spirit she loved had disappeared under the weight of responsibility, not just for her but the firm that I’d built up to support us. I looked back across the attic to the boxes that held a lifetime of memories and was drawn once again to SnuggleBunny. I smiled as I remembered just what this old, stuffed animal had done for me. When I held him, he cheered me up - when I sucked on his ear, he pacified me – when we slept together, he reassured me that the world was safe. I picked him up… **** “OK my little trooper…” it was daddy lifting me onto his shoulders, “hold on tight.” And he galloped with me riding high around the garden. I was giggling and enjoying myself as he ‘jumped’ imaginary hurdles and made noises of horse’s hooves and whinnying. In the background I could hear Emily playing with her favourite toy… a teddy that squeaked. She was sat in the shade and like me, wore only a diaper, it was far too hot to be covered in clothes. Mommy turned on the garden sprinkler and I went off to play in that, jumping in and out of its gentle wafting flow. At certain angles daddy showed me what a rainbow was and I was engrossed in trying to reach and touch it. SnuggleBunny joined me as I skipped over the spray getting a cooling soak but by the time I had grown tired of this little game my diaper was hanging down to my knees. “Oh-Oh,” Mommy said, “we should have taken him out of that first and let him run around naked… oh well, too late now but I think he needs to get out of that sagging thing.” At the back of my mind I knew there was something really important I should be doing… but for the life of me I couldn’t remember what. Something to do with… no… can’t remember. Daddy dried me as I dried Snuggles and pretty soon I was back in a fresh clean diaper that daddy packed me into and pinned tightly to my small frame. That’s it. I’m supposed to be… erm… packing… something to do with… erm… diapers? No… packing… I’m not sure… I made Snuggles a diaper out of a piece of cloth that I’d found next to Em, I suppose she’d been playing around with it at some point but now she was crawling around as mum pulled one of her toys on a string. Mummy found a pin and made sure that Snuggles was as tightly in his diaper as I was. I hugged Snuggles as I followed daddy whilst he did a spot of gardening and telling me the names of the plants, which I thought I already knew. He pointed to a little bush and told me that it had been planted when I was born and that when I was older it would flower and remind me that mommy and daddy and Emily all loved me. He patted my padded bottom and told me how much he loved me now and he always would… Older… that was it… older. I am older. I can’t be here. I’m not a child. I’m not a baby… I’m not… Daddy ruffled my hair, then bent down and pretended to ruffle Snuggles’s hair… although he didn’t have any. “OK sport, time to plant a bush for Emily. Do you want to help?” I nodded and held up Snuggles hoping that this indicated that he’d help as well. “Let’s dig a little hole.” He passed me a small implement and I began to prod the ground in an attempt to make a hole. Dad was very encouraging and… What am I doing? I can’t stay here… I have things to do (although it was becoming less and less clear as to what exactly that might be) I need to be… er… going… coming… digging…? I was sat back on the blanket under the tree throwing Snuggles up into the air and catching him. His expression said he was enjoying this game immensely… and so was I. In fact, I was so happy and comfortable I never wanted to leave the garden. Mommy and daddy seemed so happy, Em was gurgling and smiling so I suppose she was happy and… if I had my way… we would always stay this way. I crawled between daddy’s legs and settled on his lap. “You OK champ?” he said as he blew raspberries against my bellybutton. I squealed with delight until he cuddled me as tightly as I cuddled Snuggles... I never wanted this to end. ******************************************************************************
  5. This is last idea role-play my other two didn't
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