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Found 191 results

  1. well i had one heck of a short but terrible experience with this site. about a week ago i made a free account there and after filling out my information i was blocked from accessing the page. i tried initially at first to contact them to see why but to no response. now i know i didn't post anything bad, hate filled or even trollish in my bio or info and none of the information i provided was false. i recently tried again but to no avail. be warned my fellow padded friends, this is not a dating site to try out, let alone worth the effort. they will just block you and not bother to respond to you about the blocking access they have put on you there. you have been warned, spread the word please
  2. Why Are We AB?

    Hiya folks! I have been a DL for many years and have only recently started exploring (and really enjoying) being an AB. This change has occurred largely because I started dating a woman several years my senior, and, though she had never before been into diapers and such before now, she finds both great emotional satisfaction and sexual stimulation from playing the role of mommy for me. In recent years, I have been gaining some enormous insights into my own psychology in other ways, and have been finding that through my AB experiences that I am gaining yet more. I believe I can at this point shed at least some light on why I am an ABDL, and I thought this might be illuminating to others with AB tendencies seeking to understand themselves as well as an interesting topic for discussion. A good primer for a psychological discussion on infantilism may be found at http://littleab.com/abinfo.html, it is actually the one from the now defunct DPF website that seems to have been borrowed. My own case is different than those discussed, but there are important notions discussed here. Basically, I believe that I am an AB primarily because of elements of how my psychology developed in early childhood. My mother and I had an unusually close emotional relationship throughout my childhood; she was my best friend through much of it, and a needed defender from my rather angry and violent older sister. She was also a juxtaposition to my father, who was rather emotionally distant from both she and I (and pretty much everyone). He was also in many ways married to his work, and thus not around much. In some ways, it might be said I took over my father's proper role of emotional support for my mother far too young, indeed I was to take over most elements of the "man of the house" role somewhat younger than appropriate. My parents remained married until I was 14, but they were not close through that whole period to my recollection. My dad does not really know how to relate to people emotionally even now, so you could say that he is incapable of being close to anyone. This is due to his own psychology, and as such blame is inappropriate. He was never an abusive man nor a Mr. Macho, and I've never really doubted that he loves me. He just finds emotional matters very difficult to express and to receive, and as such I pity him. I think in some ways we are closer now than we ever have been, which is still not that close... As for ABism, there are several factors discussed above that play into it I think. I am told I was resistant to potty training; it was not achieved until I was almost 3 and then with a threat to keep me out of pre-school. I think this resistance was partly due to the prospect of losing that special bonding ritual of the diaper change with my mother, partly due to not wanting to be "big boy" if that meant being like my father, and partly because of a third factor I have yet to mention. In my study of myself and my childhood, I have discovered what appears to be a power relationship between my mother and myself that I have until recently been unaware of. The child depending on the mother emotionally is natural; the mother depending on the child emotionally is probably not so. Whether or no, it gives the child power over the mother he or she would not usually have. What do you suppose happened when that power was challenged by the first time in life anything was really expected of me? There were of course other manifestations to this "I don't want to grow up" mentality, many of which persist to this day. I was big into stuffed animals rather long into my childhood, for instance; I slept with a stuffed killer whale into my 20's (still not sure why I stopped, saved a perception that girlfriends might find it unmanly). There are also numerous examples of how I psychologically try to duck adult responsibilities, often with disastrous results. There are elements to my maternal relationship that are similar to (though surely not the same as) sexual abuse, especially if you factor in the freudian association of mother and lover (I am male, so the more so). I'd swear she was more than a little jealous of my first girlfriend (which seemed strange at the time), and it was about then that the closeness we had once enjoyed came to a close. I do not for a moment believe my mother meant me any harm by anything she did, or even realized the potential for such. But as a human being and a woman in a loveless marriage, an offer of real intimacy from someone she'd be expected to be intimate with on some level anyway was probably irresistible. She has her own psychological scars that left her open to such a thing, and, though I perceive harmful effects to some parts of our relationship, it is far more useful to correctly perceive what happened than it is to lay blame. We are still pretty close today, and we discuss these things (not the AB side of it!) I am finding being an AB both instructive and therapeutic. My "mommy" is in some ways like my mother, indeed my lovers always have been in one way or another. If people get into this thread, I'll post more about her psychology, but suffice it to say she is a willing and even enthusiastic mommy. In playing out the baby role (toddler, actually) moreso than ever before, I am able to perceive a similar affection and power relationship to the one I must've had with my mother at that age. Marvelously instructive! It's therapeutic in the sense that if I'm allowed to be a complete baby sometimes, I can be a more complete big boy when dealing with the big bad world. So, what do you folks think? Anything ring a bell about my story, or possibly you can offer a different analysis? We can discuss me, but I'm really interested in YOUR ideas about where YOU think YOUR AB tendencies come from. Look forward to reading about it! Oh, and feel free to ask questions, make comments, etc. I will post more if we get a good discussion going!
  3. The Lost Ones

    David struggled, out of breath. He held the bar to his shoulder, and slowly lowered it."Done!" he said in a breathless voice, mentally adding "finally." Lifting weights was far from his favorite pastime. However, under the circumstances, it was necessary.He faced a mirror, seeing his own blue, blond hair and smooth face. He ran a hand down his right shoulder and arm. "Better," he thought, "but not great."He himself didn't care about what he looked like, and especially not about being muscular. He wasn't even sure if he could become muscular, at least not in the same way some people at the gym were. However, he also needed to fit in. While the exercise machines now being built certainly made it easier, the growing trend where people worked out regularly for appearance and fitness made things more difficult. He had free weights in his house, and would need to use them later that night as well.He passed by the front desk, nodding to two staff members at the desk, who nodded back and waved. This may be the last time he came in. He'd been there a few months, longer then he usually stayed at one gym.As he left, one of the staff members turned to the other."You see that guy?""Yeah? The quiet one?""Yes. He's been coming here almost every morning for three months.""So? He's dedicated. That's what I like.""Yeah but.. I know some people at one of the other gyms in the area, and apparently he did the same thing there before switching to this one, and someone mentioned he was at another place before that.""And?""Well... Isn't it weird he keeps switching? And...""What?""Does he LOOK like he's been working like that for a year?"...David was walking past closed shops on a downtown road. It was still early morning, and if he was lucky, he could get home before more people were out. He hated walking around when it was crowded, but hated the dark even more, so this ended up being the best time to get around. He would have to come out later, he knew- there wasn't much he could do before anything was open, and he had to get buy- but for something he could do at any point, like attend a gym, it was ideal.He stopped, his eyes going wide. He was passing by a toy store, one of his favorite spots in town. In the window was a giant brown teddy bear. He stared, pressing his face and hands against the glass. It looked... soo... soft! He loved the material they used for stuffed animals recently. He didn't know what it was, but he loved just pressing it against his face. One like this he could use as a bed, his full body covered with softness...He was already pressing on the door. It wouldn't budge. He looked down at the handle. He pressed again, angrily. He shouted and began kicking the ground. Why wouldn't it open? He looked at the door again, noticing the sign that said closed. "ERRRR" he said about to pound on the glass, then stopped. He couldn't do that in public, what would people think if he saw? It was locked, there was nothing he could do, he thought. The thought made him sad, almost tearing. He looked at the door again. He could always come back later and buy it if he thought of it, he reminded himself. Now happy again, he began skipping down the road and smiling."Drat," he said suddenly, noticing his shoelace had come untied. He knelt down to tie it."One over the other... DANG!" he said. He spread them out to restart. Sometimes he question if he should just give up and get velcro shoes, but that seemed like it would cause more problems then it solved. One thing he didn't want was questions about why he was wearing anything deemed childish."Why hello there!" a warm, elderly woman's voice said.David frooze."Are you lost? Do you need help with your shoe laces?""Ummmm..." he said, not looking up."Let me help you, then you should get on home.""Ye..es," he replied, panicking.The speaker, a gray woman with glasses, bent down in front of him. David blushed and looked around as she began to lace his shoes. He hoped no one was watching. He knew he should have said no, but he couldn't find the words, and he really did need the help..."There, all done! Now you keep practicing and you'll get it one day!""Th..thanks," he said. He doubted he would, though."Now you hurry along, little one."David blushed deeper. He remained kneeling and looked down, avoiding eye contact. Hopefully she would move on before she noticed."Are you alright? Why aren't you getting up? Should I call for help? Where are your parents?"David closed his eyes. "Drat," he thought. "Well, I'd better get it over with." He stood up and looked at her.At first she seemed surprised to find he was as taller then she was, if not by much. She then fixed her glasses, and gasped slightly. Now it was her turn to blush. "Oh... I'm sorry. Please excuse me." She went walked beside him and left, surprised to find the person she had taken for a child was a full grown adult.David sighed. It was always worse with the elderly, and especially woman. Having bad eyesight didn't help either. Anyone looking at him clearly would see him as he appeared- an adult, if with some youthful features. However, they often responded to him different on instinct. Older people with maternal or paternal instincts often felt this the strongest, while younger ones often expected him to play games. Combine that with an inability to seem him properly, and sometimes they just assumed.He put the incident out of his head and kept walking. Hopefully no one would notice.He arrived at his house. He called it his house, but it wasn't exactly a house, and wasn't really his. He lived in a section of the bottom floors of a large house that had been divided into apartments, which he rented from the owner. However, the other apartment was unoccupied, meaning he could often come in and go without anyone noticing. This, combined with its proximity to downtown, gave him everything he needed- privacy, ease of use without needing to drive, cheap price. Also, the fact that there was often someone else in the building that he knew was a reassuring thought, especially at night.He unlocked the door and went inside. He walked down the hall, then stopped. There was a sign in front of him saying "lock the door, dummy!" He kicked himself and went back and locked the door. He then went through, past the sign. He stopped again. There was another sign in front of him saying "take of your shoes." He struggled with the laces, eventually kicking them off. As he stood up there was a third sign reading "and your jacket." He took it off and through it on his chair, before scolding himself, picking it up and hanging it properly. He had a closet full of half-haphazardly hung clothes, most of which he bought after reading online about what 'a man should wear' but never actually put on, finding them too uncomfortable or just not thinking about it.He walked up a small flight of stairs and into his bathroom. It was a full bathroom, with white paneled walls reminding him not to take electronics and stuffies into the tub and what to do if anything began to flood. He faced a mirror and put a hand on his belt. He closed his eyes. He never enjoyed this part, and he was feeling anxious.He pulled down his pants then opened his eyes to see a white diaper around his waste. He reached down and felt the plastic, then ticked his toung. Wet. Second day in a row at the gym. Sometimes, if he was calm and not distracted by anything, he could go a few days dry. However, his mind tended to wander, and when it did he would never know. At the gym, when he was straining, it could have happened at any point. He couldn't always even tell afterwards, and finding it here always made him wonder if anyone in the gym or on the long walk back could tell. He shuddered at the thought.At least he wasn't messy, he told himself. He could normally avoid that one, depending on what he ate and how close he was to the bathrooms. It still wasn't perfect, and he wasn't getting any better. It annoyed him now, as modern advances meant he could get diapers that looked just like regular underwear for public use, but there was no way they'd do the job well enough. As it was, his control took a lot of effort, and he only did it when he was in public. Even then, he didn't like it. It felt wrong.He glanced down. There was another reason it took effort. Under the sink, where he stored his diapers, there was a pile of thicker teddy bear printed ab diapers with a note attached reminding him not to wear them out. The rise of the internet, and with it the availability of abdl clothing, had been like a miracle for him. He struggled a moment, the adorable images calling to him, the softness... and stopped. It already difficult to hide the white diapers, and the few times people had noticed were embarrassing enough. He didn't need to have to find a way to hide the extra thick padding or risk someone seeing his teddy bear prints.He took off the wet diaper, thew it out and got in his bath tub. He filled it, cleaned himself, and got out and left the bathroom still naked.He kept an agenda on the small square table in his kitchen, which he now opened. He used his phone to check the date and matched it. He groaned. The agenda was something he had come up with knowing that if he left himself to his own devices he would never get things done. He modeled it off of examples he had found online, letting them replace the authoritative voice of a someone who could make those decisions. He had work again today, which he despised. Why did people spend so much time doing stuff like that when there was so things to play with? But it was what adults had to do, and for now he had to live as an adult.He opened he fridge. There were rows of sweets and pastries, along with peanut butter and different jams. There were also microwavable meals, as it was the only form of cooking he could do without causing a problem, and some... other things. Being an adult also meant he had to eat certain things, which he didn't like. This was something normally someone else should take care of, he thought, someone who knew better and could decide and make him do it... but he was there, so he had to make himself. He grimaced, grabbing a sweet pepper. "One vegetable with every meal," he reminded himself. He closed his nose, opened his mouth and ate it as quickly as he could. He followed it by drinking water from his tap as fast as he could. He then grabbed a piece of cake and ate it with his hands. He shuddered. Eating healthy was annoying.He went into his bedroom. It was large with baby blue walls and a crib that had detachable rails in case someone was visiting. He had hung pictures of video game and comic book characters on each wall, as he had learned adults had art, and most of the room was filled with piles of toys and old clothes. He opened his closet and struggled to ignore his preferred side, with he soft, cute clothing he preferred. Changes in fashion meant that he could sometimes wear one peice pajamas, and it seemed soon rompers would be acceptable. He loved it when things liked that happened. However, neither was appropriate for work. He began by laying out a fresh diaper, making sure it was plain white rather then printed. He poured a liberal amount of powder on it, taped it on, and got up. He then pulled a pair of boxers over it, covering the edge and ensuring a tear in his pants wouldn't be a disaster while muffling the crinkling sound. Next was an undershirt. He put on soft green pants and the required collared shirt, which was blue and striped with white. He found this worked the best- long shirt hung over his waistline, and the undershirt was tucked into his pants in case anything rode up.He then walked back into the bathroom. He sighed. He reached under the sink, and took out the make up.He began with small lines. Tiny changes, so that if it washed off no one would notice, but enough to make a difference. He had tried more drastic changes, but that had ended in disaster after a sudden rain storm. He put lines under his eyes, emphasizing cheekbones, and making his face seem narrower. He then took a comb to his unruly golden hair and used cream to hold it in place. The result was barely noticeable, but subtly added years to his perceived age.He scowled and stomped his foot. IT. WASN"T. FAIR. He hated doing it. Why couldn't he just got out normally? He pictured his face- cherubic was the right word. He could probably play Cupid if called upon, except he didn't know if Cupid would mind. He looked at his waiste, and angrily pulled up the pants which had slid down, revealing the top edge of his diaper despite all his efforts. He'd be dressed the part too. Why couldn't he just go out as is? He had to dress in all these bizarre clothes, doing everything he could to hide the rest of them, to change his face... He began to tear again.He breathed. Throwing temper tantrums wasn't a way to convince anyone he was mature, and the tears would rinse away the make up. People had already began to question things about him, which was never good. He knew he would have to move soon, which almost made him cry again. It was necessary, though. He had to keep moving, and to hide some things. It was one thing if people began to think he hadn't aged in ten years. It was another all together if they realized he hadn't aged in the last twelve thousand.
  4. Houston, Texas Diaper Lovers

    Any individuals residing around the Houston area ? I reside in League City, which is right near Kemah. I've been wanting to meet up with some of my own kind, part of the reason I joined these forums so I could interact with fellow diaper lovers and adult babies.
  5. A Reason Why

    There was a great flash like lightening, and heat filled the room. He felt himself burning and woke in panic, not understanding what was going on. All around him was piercing noise, sirens slowly twisting into screams. His breath was cut off. In the noise he wasn’t sure if his calls for help were going unanswered or simply never left his mouth. He was in the air, moving without will as he was crushed against a mass of rough brown cloth. Screams still followed, distant and barely audible under a moaning, lurching sound, but piercing into his ears and his mind none the less, and going answered. He was outside. He felt the ground under his body. The cold air cut into him after the intense heat and he fell shuddering. The screaming continued, but morphed into a moaning, crashing sound, and stopped. Noise filled the gap. People were crying. Sirens wailed. The screaming remained inside him, echoing in his mind, and mixing with the ice cold wind. Something wrapped around him and he was warm again, and he hoped to never feel that cold again. He was in another place. The cold was gone, but the screaming remained. It was a different sort, a deeper, thicker, rougher shout, but still there, and he shuddered. Steven awoke in a cold sweat. The alarm was going off, screeching for his attention. He hit the button. He would have to get that sound changed.He got undressed and headed into the shower. He turned on the nozzle, and the heat came with a loud hiss… Burning, screaming… He shook his head and removed the thoughts. He blanked them out, turning his mind to other things. He had to get up. He had to get dressed. He had his job to do and a random nightmare was no excuse not to.He got clean as quickly as he could, dried off, and got dressed. His typical black suit and tie, along with permanently polished shoes and watch. He grabbed his long coat to go with it, and headed down stairs to the kitchen. Breakfast was already waiting for him. He thanked his maid and moved out the door.He got in a car - this one was a red sports car, for every second day of the work week- and turned the ignition, preparing himself for the noise. He had paid more than enough for it, and as the salesman said “if it doesn’t wake the neighbors, its not doing its job.” He never really enjoyed it too much, but it was almost expected to own something similar where he worked. He could drive in something cheaper. No one would really say anything. They would think it, though.The engine came alive and roared loudly… Crashing, moaning…“DAMINT!” he shouted. He thought he had gotten rid of those images. Years of hard work and secretive therapy sessions should have ensured it.He could call in sick. No one would say anything, of course. He was allowed to.They would all think it though. Just like the car. His boss was on his fifteenth year without a break. His step father had gone the full 35 years before his age granted him the leniency for sick days.He cursed, and drove off.He arrived at the office twenty-five minutes early, or, as he called it, ‘late’. He walked through the long grey hallways dotted with cubical and water coolers and made his way to his office. He passed by people he knew by name and department and flashed polite, empty smiles. He opened the door and went in. He had a large, lightly decorated office with a massive desk, a garbage can and a window whose blinds he kept perpetually closed. People started drifting into the building, chatting around his office. He concentrated on his work, but the noise built until finally had to slam his door shut.The time drifted by in odd bursts and lulls. He didn’t pay it much mind, he had work to do, and wouldn’t leave until it was done.A loud screeching noise made him jump.Screaming, shouting…He looked down at his phone and lifted the receiver.“Hello is this the Henry Berran Brokers?” a shrill voice asked.“Yes, this is Mergers and Acquisitions,” he replied.“Excellent. Do you know…”Something was happening outside. People were speaking, loudly.“if that is true, should we…”He took out a pen and began copying down what she told him.The voices were getting louder. Through the closed door, he couldn’t make out what they were saying.“And then I’ll need…”He made out the sound of his senior, Michael McNaughton. He began to shout at someone. He was always shouting.Shouting, screaming…“large tubes of..”He was getting louder and louder. He could picture him, red faced…Burning, steaming…Shouting louder, louder…Screaming, calling…“place it inside…”Someone was crying.Crying, moaning…“it may hurt a bit…”He was throwing things, tearing them apart.Moaning, crashing… The last remains of sunlight cut through the blinds, hurting his eyes.Burning, cutting“But I think we are ready…”Steven shouted and through his phone from his desk. It crashed into the wall opposite of him. He stared at it, breathing heavily.Finally he ran up to it again and picked it up. The women was still speaking.“Hello? What was that? It sounded like a crash!” she said.“Sorry, I, uhh… dropped my phone,” he replied.“Alright. Well is there anything else you need to know?”“No, that is fine,” Steven said. He was sure he had everything he needed in his notes.“Aright, well, goodbye! Thanks for everything.”“No, thank you.” He hung up the phone.He stared down at his notepad. Gibberish, completely illegible.He tried to remember any detail of the call. Her name, where she worked… nothing came to mind.He tore the piece of paper from his notebook and threw it into the trash bin. Hopefully it wasn’t anything important. He thought about calling back the same number, but it would probably only lead to a directory, and that was useless without knowing the department which called.He looked at his watch. It was late, most people were probably clearing the office. Never the less, he sat back down at his desk and kept working. There was still work to do, and leaving too early would always look bad.When he finally finished it was dark. The air was cold,Cold air, howling wind… and he pulled his jacket against it. He got into his car and began to drive away.He watched the road as closely as he could. The images from the dream kept coming back, and he shook them out of his mind.He turned the radio on, hoping it would help him clear the images out.He didn’t know the station. It seemed good enough at first, people talking calmly. They were announcing a new song. It came on gently, with a moment of silence. There was a voice whispering something, getting louder, and louder..Suddenly the singer was screamingScreaming, shoutingThe guitar came blasting randomly, pouring out notes faster and faster.Moaning, burning…The drums pounded.Crashing, falling. Screaming, shouting Falling, biting Burning, chocking, Flashing, cutting Howling, whining He screamed and fumbled at the radio. He looked down to turn the nob, and didn’t notice the light changing in front of him. He sped through, and a truck smashed into the side of his vehicle.…Steven woke up again, this time to gentle singing. He had no idea where he was. He was surrounded by warmth, and felt cushions piled around him. Everything was soft and silken, from the voice to the blankets. He sank into them and wished he could go back to sleep. He hadn’t felt this way in as long as he could remember.Finally he opened his eyes completely, and saw a white tiled roof he did not recognize. He sat up completely. He looked down at himself. He seemed to be fine. He didn’t seem to be injured and couldn’t feel pain anywhere. He was wearing long white pajamas. They weren’t his own, but they were comfortable and fit perfectly. The room he was in was painted a golden hue, and had wall to wall carpeting.There was a women sitting on a chair in front of him. She had been the one singing, and stopped when he saw her.“What is going on? Where am I?” he asked.“Don’t worry about that right now. You are safe,” she replied, in a voice as soft as the cushions.“But I need to contact someone. I need to get back to work, I…” he stopped as she shushed him and put a finger on his lips.“Don’t worry about that, sweetheart. Don’t even think about work. It will all be alright. You are with us now, and we are going to take care of you. We will take care of everything you’ll ever need, and everything you could ever want. All you have to do is trust us.”Despite their strangeness, he felt a calm reassurance at her words. He realized he really did trust her. He nodded, and smiled. (If anyone is wondering, there is going to be ABDL material later. The story just needed some set up. So don't worry your pampered butts :p)
  6. Little Trans Boy Who Travels

    Hey everybody! Very new to the lifestyle but very very interested in getting started. As for myself I'm 21, 5'3" and 125ish pounds, I have a very muscular build and I'm good looking. A couple tattoos but I'm a good boy anyway. I'm a model and an actor so I travel almost constantly but I keep in touch very well. In terms of little space, I'm about 2 years old. I love music, playing with toys, crafts, watching cartoons and movies, playing video games and cuddling. I'm looking forward to learning more and connecting with interesting people.
  7. Mommy-AB Roleplay (mommy seeking)

    I am looking for anyone to do AB roleplay with me! This includes: Physically baby, mentally adult (whether that means in your thoughts or vocally) aka Magic transformation of some sort Adult mentally regressing / Adult using it as a stress reliever I don't do sexual stuff I do however, give cuddles and love to my baby! I am also into forcing adults into babies. (Kindly, of course c:) Here are some scenarios to get your creative juices flowing: 1. Friend comes to me looking for stress relief 2.Son/Daughter needs to regress (middle school age and up) Also, mention if it will be a mutual "babying" or forced/trapped
  8. looking for a daddy

    hello. is a nice daddy out there who would like to have a son? (adult child or adult baby) to make rules cudle and thnigs like that? i would really like to be YOUR child/baby if you are a guy who likes to be a dad
  9. Author's Note: Hello everyone, I'm new to the forum, so please, let me know if I've done anything wrong, posted incorrectly, or breached some sort of ettiquete. Now, for the fun part--my story. I'm experimenting with story telling methods, and this particular method is of the choose your own adventure variety. I'm posting the first "chapter" to the story here, and you can follow the rest of the story through the links on my blog. I'd post the entire story here, but to the methods and techniques I've used with writing it, I'm not sure that there's a way to post it here so it can be read properly. Please pay attention to the warnings as you progress through the story, and keep in mind that it's a work in progress. If you see any typos or errors, feel free to let me know so I can correct them. Summary: Your name is Abigail Summers, and you have just woken up behind bars—crib bars, that is. You aren’t quite sure how you got there. Are you part of a healthy relationship, and your Daddy just carried you into your nursery when you fell asleep on the couch last night? Or were you a normal, functioning high schooler who’s just been kidnapped and forced to regress? You decide! :::: Your name is Abigail Summers, and you have a variety of interests. You enjoy texting, hanging out at the mall with your friends, and occasionally going out on dates with very cute boys. You are currently a senior at Millville High, where you are also a member of your school’s Cheerleading squad. You aren’t the star girl, but you’re pretty damn close, and that’s enough for you. You look classically American in that girl-next-door way, with a soft face, bright blue eyes, and dirty blonde hair that falls a little below your shoulders. You glance down, and realize that you are still in your favorite tight-fitting pink t-shirt, the one that makes your round breasts just out and strain against the fabric. Your nipples are hard from the soft feel of cotton against them, and you can feel a faint tingling between your legs. You wish you had a vibrator to make yourself feel even better, but you aren’t yet old enough to buy one. Or are you? That reminds you, today is your eighteenth birthday. Unfortunately, unlike your last birthday, you have not awakened to pink streamers, balloons, and a special birthday girl breakfast. Instead, you have awakened to the sturdy wooden bars of an oversized crib. There are stuffed animals on either side of you, and hanging above you is mobile, still spinning in motion. You move into a sitting position and peer through the bars to observe your surroundings. Directly across from your crib if an equally as large changing table, the shelves beneath it are packed with a variety of diapers. You can see the baby powder from here, and the baby wipes right beside it. The carpet looks plush, and new, and the walls are equally as white but covered in a variety of childish decals. There’s a yellow toybox not far from the changing table, filled to the brim with toys, and a small bookshelf lined with picture books. You are most definitely in a nursery. You glance back down and realize a little belatedly that in addition to your tight-fitting pink shirt, you are wearing a thick, padded, disposable diaper. Your brain feels a little foggy and you aren’t thinking clearly. What do you do? --->Wail like a baby and cry for Daddy. --->Attempt to escape the crib.
  10. Baby Training

    Alex struggled helplessly in his binds. Stuck in a diaper and dress, gagged with an oversized pacifier, and with a bright red ribbon wrapped around, he could do nothing but wait. He supposed that was what he was a Christmas present for someone. The only question was for whom. It was a question that had haunted him since the day he arrived at the training institute. Like everyone, he knew there was someone paying for him. Like most, he had no idea who they were, when he’d see them, or what they intended to use him for. There were several reasons someone could end up in the institute. A scant few were volunteers- people choosing the submissive lifestyle, often for a kink, or out sheer laziness, giving up freedom to be guaranteed food and shelter rather then work their entire lives and risk homelessness. This, in Alex’s opinion, was a poor trade and a worse excuse for a career. Others seemed to think they eventually be guaranteed a place their anyway, and so volunteered. The advantage there was that they could at least pick the manner of their submissiveness, and have some control over who their eventual master was. Had Alex known that would be necessary for him, he’d have taken that route. He shifted uncomfortably in his binds, his arms getting stiff, and his diaper beginning to chaff his spanked bottom. He definitely would have. Alex, for himself, was one of the many who had been chosen against their will. Some of them had obvious reasons for going. They had committed clear crimes, were put on trial, and plea-bargained out of jail or were sentenced directly. They stood out at first in the first days at the institute. Trying to look tough, with tattoos on their arms and glares on their faces, until they realized this just made them all the more ridiculous. Alex was in a final category- those who had no idea at all why he was brought. He had simply went to bed one night after drinking at a bar, blacked out, and woken up already locked and dressed in the institute, with his form of submissiveness and master chosen for him. Many had similar stories, or were dragged from public places kicking and screaming, or got into cabs that went in completely the wrong directions… There was a long list. They were usually given a explanation. Vague allegations of minor crimes, poor behavior, a likeliness of future crimes or failures, internet search histories, having failed some kind of government test- there were plenty. Alex had a mix of these, with the same accusations of brattiness and immaturity that most who ended up in diapers got. They may be true, he knew, but he tended to believe the rumor that the institute simply needed to sell certain number of submissive to operate and did what was necessary to keep going. The government turned a blind eye and the public kept silent less they be chosen- they were fulfilling a needed service, anyway. For Alex, it was hard to argue. They seemed to know everything about him, and his trove of 'secret' stories about similar kinks was brought up time and time again as a reason. Whether they knew about them when they grabbed him or coincidently found out after searching was beyond him. Alex moaned inwardly thinking of it. The struggled slightly, hearing the tissue paper and his diaper rustle, then stopped. He glanced at the paddle beside him. Tauntingly cute looking, but sharp and painful, he had been given a taste of it earlier and threatened with more if he woke anyone up. He was a Christmas present, and just like any other gift supposedly from Santa Clause, he would not be seen until morning. Waking them up would spoil the surprise, and he had been trained to obey. That training itself had been a nightmare. When he first woke up that day long ago, he had no idea what was happening. He had woken up slowly at first, feeling a slight headach, then bolted up when he noticed he was in a strange room surrounded by bars. “No” he had thought, “it can’t be…” IN reality it was obvious- he had long known about the training program, and that the diapered subs were one of options, but like most, he had never thought it would happen to him. When it did, he did everything in his power to deny it to himself. He had quickly glanced down at himself to see he was dressed in bright pink footed pyjamas and a bulky object he later realized was a diaper. He tried to scream out, only to find his mouth full of something he later realized was a pacifier. He tried to remove it, only to find his hands were wrapped in thick, fingerless mittens, leaving them useless. He looked around himself, and confirmed his suspicions. The bars he had once thought were for a cage were in fact part of a crib, and the room was a giant nursery, decorated cutely, with a changing table, high chair, and toys all clearly intended for him. A pit had begun to form in his stomach. A woman, not much older then Alex, came in beaming. He still remembered the first words she said. “Hello, how’s my little baby doing?” She spoke in a sweet, familiar voice, as if he truly was a baby girl and there was nothing strange at all with him being there. The rest of the day had followed suit. He was offered no explanation and given no chance to ask for one. He was carted helplessly from humiliation to humiliation, unable to get out of the arms, baby harnesses and strollers that held him, and unable to speak with the pacifier in his mouth, only leaving it for feedings. That day he wasn’t even treated as a sub, but simply as a baby. Spankings or other punishments weren’t necessary yet- he was too restrained and bewildered to fight, he was simply there to learn his place. He was fed, talked to in baby gibberish or simply ignored, and changed. THAT was a memory that had stuck with him, not because of the teasing or punishment, but because of the lack there of. “Do you smell something?” one has said calmly. “I think the baby has a stinky butt” the other replied with no sign of surprise. “Check him?” Alex was bent over, his onesie undone. “Yep,” then, in the high pitched joking voice used for infants, “has the baby made a stinky? Does she need to get her butt changed? YES SHE HAS! YES SHE DOES!” The lack of mocking and teasing had made it seem all the worse, as if it was something natural that should be expected. The truth was, as he would learn, it soon would be. As Alex was lain on the floor in a main hallway and changed as the pair in front of him talked on as if nothing was wrong, he had even begun to wonder if he really was a baby, and the last few decades of his life were some bizarre dream. It seemed a better option then being a submissive. The real training had started the next day. Alex shifted again, and tried to pull his arms at least a bit loose. This position was far from comfortable, and his back was getting sore. He wondered what it said about his new masters that he was to be found this way. Did they know how uncomfortable it was? Did they want him to be sore? An answer either yes or no could mean a lot. Of course, the fact that he was chosen as a sissy baby said a lot as it was. There was something of an unspoken hierarchy at the training institute. It depended a lot person to person, but their were some general rules that could be said depended on the harshness, or embarrassment, related to the job. At the top were the merely unstated submissives. They were there to serve, with no real, and as long as they behaved were treated well. After that came the ‘animals,’ either work horses intended to pull their masters around or pet kittens and puppies, they were treated well, if condescendingly. Then came the punishment subs, there to take spankings, be degraded, and tied for their masters pleasure. Underneath them all were the babies. Some could live pretty good lives and be treated well, finding themselves essentially just living to be cuddled and coddled, but that was often not the case. It was hard to feel any sort of pride when all others were baking away from the smell of your diapers. Alex was the lowest from of these. Not just a baby, but a sissy baby and a punishment sub at that. He had become well acquainted with rope and paddles while there, and the diapers and dresses simply added a whole new level of humiliation. Alex pondered slightly. As most had guessed, if that is what his masters wanted, it did not bode well for him. Whoever was paying want him degraded as much ass possible. Most ended up living essentially as their training had done. Some, however, were lucky. They were punished and trained to a low level then brought to their masters as if being rescued, receiving love and affection, and forming a strange form of bond from the knowledge of what they were being kept from. Others got the exact opposite. Even within the categories, the harshness, strictness and length of training varied. Some masters wanted subs with fight left in them that they could spank out over time. Others would switch their subs theme upon arriving, leaving the poor, bewildered submissive confused and having to go through training again. The ones that Alex pitied the most were, ironically, barely even punished at training. Their masters wanted the opposite idea then the rest received. They were praised, given freedoms, and given rewards to build up a sense of pride that the masters could have fun breaking. They were often even given authority over the other submissives, who were told to keep mum about the poor fools fates. Sometimes they’d come back with their masters later, tears streaming down their faces, their pride shattered, their delusions gone as they were laughed at by the ones they had looked down on. Alex himself had been spanked by a few confused submissives only to later see them crawling around In diapers themselves, now bigger bawling babies then anyone, their pride making the fall all the worse. Somehow they never seemed to learn until it was too late. Alex groaned at the binds and his stiff muscles. He was beginning to feel hungry again. How long had he been there? He would have thought it was only one night, but there were no windows, and it felt like a lot longer. He prayed his masters were in the kindest category, hoping for him to see them as some kind of saviors, but he craved being untied whether or not they were. It was more likely that he was meant to be the baby he was dressed as anyway. This could still mean different things, as rumors always came back about what the babies got in the outside world. Some were treated merely as that, infants for their ‘parents’ to take care of, nothing more. Some existed for humiliation, spending long nights tied in messy diapers and over laps getting spanked in public. Some were there to work and please their masters, their clothing adding a form of mocking comedy to otherwise adult tasks. Some lived for pleasure, receiving toys and other benefits, others were deliberately denied it, being brought close to it then returned to whine and moan in their diapers. Some lived to train people to take care of real babies, used for diaper changing demonstrations, some were mascots for small sports teams and organizations or public draws to restaurants and game rooms. Others still were even given to younger people, treated as playthings, live in dolls for the amusement of children. Most did not know what it was going to be until they got there. He shuddered at the thought, and prayed it was one of the better ones. He tried to think of the cruelty of someone who would subject him to it. Could he really blame them though? He had, after all, written all those stories... but those were fiction, not reality... was there a difference? Yet there he was, an adult, diapered, sissified... The training varied from person to person, but for babies there were some general themes. The life in a nursery, the wearing diapers, and being given toys were all common. Most were fed, and most were taught to use their diapers. Some were deliberately made incontinent, being given pills and hypnosis to render them diaper dependent. Alex avoided this, though you never would tell from watching him. A messy diaper around his waist was a common theme in his life. Like all babies, he slept in a crib, and was taken care of like a baby in his ‘home.’ This home was the residence while he stayed in the institute. As usual, he was the only baby there. The other themes were represented similarly, there were pets, work animals, slaves, sissies, and other kinds of submissives, but rarely more than one or two of each at a time. There were also groups of non submissives who went in and out of living there like a hostel, and more still that came by and paid to gawk and laugh. They usually paid to see due to their own sadistic kinks or schadenfreude, and the fact that they beleived the people there had earned their punishment made them all the more vicious in their laughing and teasing. This was for a serious, if subtle reason. If the submissive felt rare, and they were constantly faced with a new group of people, it kept the helplessness and embarrassment of their situation fresh. As had been explained to Alex, the reason a sissy male was embarrassed to be in a dress was because men didn’t wear dresses. If Alex had spent his life surrounded by other sissy babies, eventually it wouldn’t seem to be strange at all. From the ‘homes,’ the submissive would be taken daily to training, this time along with the similarly dressed brethren. As a sissy baby, Alex would join a long and often smelly line of grown adults in diapers, feeling absolutely ridiculous as they were paraded, all holding a rope like children, toward class. Once there, they were trained as a group, with variations for their individual master’s desires. They would be given kindergarten like classes on basic subjects to reduce them and bring their thinking to that of a babies. Sometimes they’d deliberately be given fake information, being forced to learn math wrong or memorize a made up alphabet. They’d then be tested on it, and have their place hammered home when they failed tests seemingly made for children. From there it was more kink related training. They’d be taught to be submissive, with a long list of humiliating and painful punishments, from spankings and being tied up, to more childish such as time outs and mouth soaping’s. They were trained to behave as their masters wanted, forced to crawl around, play with children’s toys, and mess their diapers. They were even trained to act up from time to time, practicing throwing tantrums or acting as brats. Some were slowly rendered incontinent, some were given potty training which was deliberately made impossible, then told they were in diapers because they failed, and others were simply ignored until they messed themselves, and at times kept in them until they were used to the feeling. Whatever a master wanted, he could get, and the trainers bet their careers on making it happen. Alex wasn't given a chance. There was no effort to untrain or to pretend to train. This, he figured, meant whoever he was going to meet in the morning wanted someone who was able to control their functions, but still used to diapers. Did that mean they intended to some kind of joke potty training routine? Was it meant to be successful, with him finally getting out of the childish undergarments, or not? Would they go the opposite route, subjecting him to hypnosis and bizarre diets? He doubted that one, if they wanted that they could have done it already. There was a chance they'd keep him in diapers but let him use the toilet, or present themselves as the saviors of the degradation he had suffered... It was possible, and he hoped for it, but he had learned not to hope for too much. Something told him that wasn't the case. The most likely was that they'd keep him in some variation of what he had before- continent, but with no way to tell that based on what he wore (or, he thought blushing, he smelled like), giving them control over when it happened and whether or not he'd be punished... he shuddered. What else could tell him what to expect? So this one is a bit different then my others. I'm sort of experimenting with a different structure. Rather then having a normal narrative or much dialogue, it is a series of settings, with the plot hopefully coming through. That is because it is supposed to be the Alex (myself) remembering what happened to him as he lies in bondage. I figured memories tend to be more like vague snapshots rather then having a lot of details, so I tried to write it like that. If it didn't work, it is basically the story of Alex's will being broken as he waits for his captors. BTW, this goes with this picture: http://swabbs.deviantart.com/art/The-Gift-That-Keeps-On-Giving-Dress-Clean-652281997 by Swabbs, with his permission. Le me know if there is an issue with me posting that there, I will remove it.
  11. http://www.ebay.com/itm/282368873749?item=282368873749
  12. http://www.ebay.com/itm/282368873749?item=282368873749
  13. Hey guy & girls, I recently ordered from abdlfactory.com I ordered a lot of one-off samples of different nappies I'd never heard of. I must say, a load of these samples are absolutely wonderful! I haven't tried them yet, but a LOT of them feel as though they ought to get more appreciation in the AB / DL worlds.... There's one in particular called the 'Foresite AM-PM' nappy, and it's an EXACT REPLICA of the old Comficare nappies and is HUGE, yet you never hear of recommendations of this nappy.... It may possibly by because they look a little medical and thus don't get prominently advertised to the AB / DL communities but I swear.... people are missing out on proper wonderful nappies! Like, these are probably even cheaper than regular nappies as they seem to be selling to the incontinence market, not the AB / DL markets... I would not hesitate to buy a pack of these along with MANY of the other brands I ordered.
  14. Australian Kitten ABDL

    Hi! So, I joined this site two years ago because I love reading the stories and role plays on here. I haven't properly introduced myself or at least I can't remember if I have or not. Lol. So yeah. You can can me Yuni, Sparkles or whatever you like. I live in Queensland, Australia and I'd love to meet other Aussie ABDLs and furries. I'm into a bunch of different kinks, all or most being non-sexual. If you want to know if I'm into something and would write it or role play it with you, just ask. Also, I love cats. They're my favourite animal.
  15. Hi I'm kikipooh. I'm here to be honest with who I am and what I like and be me, even when I don't know what me is.
  16. Hi, my name is Areo. I'm looking for a mommy/daddy to baby me in chat. I'm open to any ideas, including sexual themes. If anyone is interested my pm is always open.
  17. Rosy,a girl around 24 losing her job as a space flight engineer, and having to return to her birth planet: Earth. Once there, she can no longer afford to keep her family in good standing with the goverment. SO in a last desperate attempt to save her family for the debt camps, she comes to see me. I'm Zeake Lafayette, a powerful crime lord who owns the Black Silk cartel, an illegal trafficking organization that spans several light years of human controlled space. But Rosy knows I have a sweet spot for girls in dire situations..... what she DOESN'T know is that my price is several years of slavery as my personal diaper pet. (If this intrigues you, Message me, or post a response) (Also, If this was the wrong place to post something like this go ahead and tell me, I'm all for learning! )
  18. With every purchase of our Super Sized Pacifiers in 5 different colours via our Etsy store you'll receive a 'FREE' White Pacifier holder clip strap worth £10!!! These Super Sized Pacifiers come apart for cleaning & are a great Adult size. The teat cab be re-inflated when flat by taking the pacifier apart & reassembling it! We'll be stocking RED, And Sparkling Gold & Purple very soon! https://www.etsy.com/uk/listing/464673177/abdl-super-adult-sized?ref=shop_home_active_16
  19. FETIBEARS

    Our Totally Unique and One Off Fetibears, Stuffies are now available via our revamped website; http://www.subspaceleathers.com/collections/fetibears
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  21. BabySpace

    Our Brand NEW LOOK Special area of our website for AB's listing all of our lovely Leather collection of items, including Super Sized Pacifiers/Dummies/Binkies; http://www.subspaceleathers.com/collections/adult-baby
  22. Hi Guys, Just to let you know that we are currently down to our last few ConvertUps for the next few weeks. In case you are not aware, ConvertUps convert regular diapers/nappies of almost any brand into larger size pull-up and/or velcro/tape-on diapers/nappies for kids, teens, and adults of all sizes. We currently have limited sizes and colours in stock. If the size/colour you'd like is not available then please get in touch and we can advise when we are likely to have them in stock. Find out more at www.convertups.com and read our product overview, FAQs, and to buy. Thanks, ConvertUps