Jump to content
LL Medico Diapers and More Bambino Diapers - ABDL Diaper Store

Search the Community

Showing results for tags 'friends'.

  • Search By Tags

    Type tags separated by commas.
  • Search By Author

Content Type


Forums

  • Latest News and Updates
    • Latest News
  • Diaper Talk
    • Newbie Nursery
    • Scoop The Poop
    • Our Lifestyle Discussion
    • [DD] Surveys
    • Incontinence - Medical
    • Rainbow Diapers
    • Story and Art Forum
    • Photos
    • Roleplay
    • Product Reviews and Info
    • Diapers in the News
    • Links and Announcements
    • In and Out Board
  • Connect
    • The Rest of your Life!
    • Meeting Place
    • Game Time
  • Trading Post
    • The Diaper Store - Shopping
    • ABDL FreeCycle
    • Other Stuff For Sale/Trade
  • Support
    • DailyDiapers Tech Support
    • Questions And Answers
    • Friends and Family
    • Restlessfox's Depression Discussion
    • ABDL Memorial
  • Other Fetishes
    • General
    • Spanking
    • Bondage
    • Watersports
  • Clubby McClubFace's British Gossip
  • Big Kids Room's Topics
  • Infant School's Let's talk ...
  • Music Producers Club's Topics
  • Diaper Disciplined's Double Diapers and More...
  • Ab/dl LBGT diapers's Topics
  • For us who are turned on by diapers's Write something about yourself, so we can get to know each other!
  • spankings-4-all's Topics
  • spankings-4-all's ABDL spanking and punishments
  • dutchdiapers's Heya allemaal :) Stel je voor!
  • The hated ones's What's it like?
  • Big but getting Smaller!'s Topics
  • abdl west Yorkshire (uk)'s Topics
  • BabyFurs & DiaperFurs's Roleplaying
  • BabyFurs & DiaperFurs's Games
  • BabyFurs & DiaperFurs's Topics
  • For all Canadiens's Hi
  • Minecraft Daycare's Topics
  • "Nerd" Is The Word's Topics
  • AB/DL Support Group's Topics
  • Veteran Abdls's Was it hard to hide
  • Veteran Abdls's Topics
  • Diaper lovers from Scandinavia's Topics
  • Diaper Messers's Introduce Yourself
  • Diaper Messers's Favorite Fantasy in messy diapers
  • Diaper Messers's favorite diaper you use for messes
  • Diaper Messers's favorite activity for with a messy diaper
  • ABDLs of the southwest region's Hello
  • Melbourne Meetups's Welcome Melburnians
  • Melbourne Meetups's Melbourne Meetups
  • Infant littles's Discussion board about everything to do with this age and space.
  • PNW ABDL's MONTHLY MUNCHES
  • PNW ABDL's INTRODUCE YOURSELF
  • Sweet Diaper Smells n Dreams's favorite Diaper smells
  • Sweet Diaper Smells n Dreams's Favorite Diaper Dreams or Fantasy(s)
  • Sweet Diaper Smells n Dreams's Diaper face sitting
  • Upstate NY ABDL's's Topics
  • Hiking/Camping Meet Ups's Topics
  • Those Who Love Plastic Pants's Topics
  • Wearing, layering, and exposing diapers and plastic pants's Topics
  • Wearing girls panties's What are your favorite panties to wear?
  • Baby Dragons's Topics
  • Those ABDL's into Sports Cars's Whatcha running
  • Inflatables and diapers's Topics
  • Southern Region and Surrounding ABDL's Hello
  • Southern Region and Surrounding ABDL's Lounge
  • Illinois ABDL's Welcome!
  • Utah Diaper Wearers's Topics where are you from?
  • Becoming a Bedwetter still dry in day time's Did I wet during sleep ?
  • Becoming a Bedwetter still dry in day time's Can hypnosis help ?
  • Becoming a Bedwetter still dry in day time's Training tips
  • Robert Jans adult Baby's TopicsRobert Jans adult Baby
  • SOUTH EAST KENT UK AB ABDL DL's Topics
  • Brazilian Diaper Lovers (Brasileiros DLs)'s Tópicos
  • BiggerLittles Bouncers's Bouncer Talk
  • Customizing Your Diapers's Customizing Contour Diapers
  • Customizing Your Diapers's Customizing Diaper Function
  • Customizing Your Diapers's Customizing PUL diapers
  • South Africa DL club's Topics
  • AZ ABDL Social Sanctuary's Topics
  • Braces Club's Topics

Product Groups

  • E-Books
  • Memberships
  • Advertising
  • Videos
  • Collectables

Find results in...

Find results that contain...


Date Created

  • Start

    End


Last Updated

  • Start

    End


Filter by number of...

Joined

  • Start

    End


Group


Website URL


Location


Real Age


Age Play Age

  1. Such a big group! Where is everyone located? Any in Houston? We travel often and always looking for new friends!
  2. Chapter One: Megan’s Disgrace I had brown hair that hung down just past my shoulders, green eyes that when they watered, they would melt people’s hearts, and I had a few little pickle-cute spots, as my mom called them, the freckles that appeared just around my nose and went out just a bit on to my cheeks. I was normally a very talkative and active child, and now, at twelve years old, I had so many friends, that it was hard to give them all attention all the time. I don’t even remember how I became popular. But it was November already, and we were all sitting in class, the dreaded Language Arts that was taught by Mr. Hate, himself, Mr. Hastings. “Pop quiz!” he suddenly told us after we were settled into his third hour class. “And I hope you all did your reading for last night. With the recent lack of homework completion in this class, I decided that what you all needed to motivate you, is pop quizzes sprung on you until the end of the semester!” Of course, we all groaned at his decided punishment. Just the same, with the same heavy sigh that all my peers had given, I numbered a clean sheet a paper to twenty five like he had requested, and waited for the first question. Honestly, this was one of the worst, meaning least understanding and spiteful teachers of seventh grade. No one liked him that I knew. “Number one…,” Mr. Hastings was starting to tell us through his walrus thick mustache covered mouth the questions for our twenty-five question pop quiz. I shook my head as I heard the question, and sighed. Yeah, I had not read the assignment that last night. I mean, all the teachers had homework for us, and it felt never-ending. Reading, we could normally just fake because we ended up reading it again in class, especially in Language Arts, and there were real homework assignments to complete, that had attached questions or papers to hand in. I sighed as he was eventually on telling us the question for number three. I was starting to think that this pop quiz might take the whole period. That was not going to be any fun at all. No silent reading time that we could pass notes to each other during or even writing summary questions so we could doodle or zone out as we pretended to write. Okay, I did hate Language Arts, not only because the teacher was a harassing hawk-eyed tyrant, but because I really didn’t enjoy anything to do with reading or with math these days. Simple addition wasn’t so bad, and simple picture books, when I was in elementary school was okay. But since starting middle school last year, everything had been stepped up by the power of ten! I am not by any means a tall person. I think I am on the short side at my school, though there are definitely some much shorter girls around. I looked over to my right, and Stephanie was one example of one of the girls that was shorter than me, with silky raven black hair, brown eyes, and light brown skin. She was one of the nicer girls, maybe a little too nice for her own good. “Eyes on your own paper,” Mr. Hastings called out his usual warning when eyes started to wonder, so I looked back at my paper as we approached number seven on the pop-quiz. I sighed and shook my head. Why did he always assume we were looking at others’ papers just because we grew bored of looking a piece of paper in front of us? I tried to put that thought out of my head as the quiz went on. The hands overhead on the wall was ticking rather slowly, and the questions and time he gave us to answer them was even slower at getting added to the paper. Looking at what answers I had already written to check any work was not worth it to me. You see, I had trouble when it came to seeing too many things on a paper at a time. One trick I had developed in like the fourth or fifth grade, was that I was taught to slip a wide piece of paper over most of the words on a page, so I could focus only on what mattered at the moment, but during our pop quiz, I wasn’t allowed to have my paper helper out, so I had to just try to keep the top part covered with my arm as I wrote. I felt a little tension in my stomach, but I numbered the paper for the next question, number ten. I wanted the pop quiz to be over with, and the clock up on the wall mocked me, it’s hands probably a few minutes behind the questions now, so that maybe the pop quiz was not going to take the whole hour. The tightening in my stomach grew a little more troublesome and I felt an embarrassing tension in my groin, but knew not to raise my hand. This was the worst teacher of all to ask, and even many of the other teachers told us that we needed to learn to control ourselves and to use wise judgment in taking care of ourselves. So I looked back down at the twelfth blank number, waiting to hear the question so I could try to scribble something there. Yes, I called it scribbling, not writing, the same things I always heard when I eaves dropped on anyone that mentioned how I wrote something whether they be teachers, my own mother, or even my friends, sometimes. I definitely had neither good penmanship nor sensible spelling. It was a wonder anyone even understood my writing, but somehow, many of my teachers could guess it enough to help me. I felt a stronger tug at my groin as I started to answer the fourteenth question. The clock on the wall was getting even slower than ever, and I knew that the pop quiz was not even going to take half of the lesson. I wished time would speed up though. I kind of wanted to use the toilet, but after what happened last year in a less tyrant’s class, I was kind of scared to raise my hand and draw attention, not to mention, there was no way he’d say yes while we were in the middle of a test. I started to wonder why I suddenly had to go so much. I mean, yeah, I did skip going to the bathroom between the last two periods, and I often did go then, but I didn’t feel like I had to do anything so I just went to class. Besides, I hated the school bathrooms, so only really went in them when I felt like I really needed to. There were the dingy walls, the dirty toilets, the smell that always made me want to gag, some questionable people in them that I wasn’t sure if they were smoking or doing something else, and of course, there were the occasional bumps into Angela and Barbara. We had never gotten on since probably about the fifth grade, when they found out about my reading problems. I felt my side with my left hand as I started to respond to question fifteen. The clock was slower still, now seeming like we may even have half an hour left of class by the time the quiz was over, maybe even more, at this rate. I sighed and holding my side, proceeded to try to scribble down the answer. I was a bit surprised at the questions that the teacher was asking though. He warned us when we sat down that he hoped we read last night’s assignment, but the questions he was giving us had more to do with what we’d already gone over in class in the last week. I was glad he was orally telling the questions instead of making us read them. I knew from the way the others looked at him, sighed, and groaned, that they hated it when the questions were oral, and so he probably thought this made them harder. He was a tyrant like that, but with him trying to be a tyrant, he was actually accidentally helping people like me. My side felt like it was tightening a little. My groin felt like it was pulling and pushing at the same time. My stomach hurt a little, but I gritted my teeth trying to get through question number seventeen. Only three questions left, and another thirty minutes of class. “Please, don’t do this to me. Please,” I whispered to myself, scared I was going to wet my pants before class was over. I had not done that, since well, I don’t want to remember the last time it happened. It certainly wasn’t in late elementary school, or last year, or this year…. I really had to use the wash room, and I was getting kind of nervous. My legs were starting to bounce and my knees to touch as I squeezed with just my muscles at the moment. I felt my face get a little heated, but I knew that raising my hand to ask was only asking for humiliation. This was a tyrant teacher, and I remember last year, there was a boy in science class, who raised his hand. He was made to sit there and pee himself in front of everyone, the teacher seeming as if she had no idea though he had told her, and had squirmed for over twenty minutes before I saw the spilling pee out of his chair hitting the floor. I’d have died if that were me. Actually, I think he did die, at least, as far as being aware of things when he was around. He didn’t respond to anyone when they said hi to him after that. He always had his head down, and he had to avoid Angela and Barbara and the boy versions of them even more so than anyone else in the school. There was no place he could live his shame down, and I was scared to even be seen near him, afraid someone would call him my boyfriend or something. It’s not easy to be twelve years old, not for anyone, but for someone that was loser enough to get caught pissing their pants, it was a lot worse! Finally, the last question was asked, and I started to fill in the question when I felt my eyes startle and grow two sizes in my head. I felt my muscles tighten harder, and I felt a very light spray that immediately stopped, dampening my underwear. I looked up at the clock, and we still had twenty five minutes to go. How did I get in this mess? I was scared to raise my hand. I couldn’t get caught peeing my pants under any circumstance, and I just knew this tyrant would say “no,” and that would certainly draw everyone’s attention on me. There was no way they wouldn’t know I couldn’t wait if something leaked out if they were watching me. I started banging my knees together as the teacher went to the front after collecting the papers, and then he told us to open our books. By now, he knew not to ask me to read. He had asked me to read in front of the class about a month ago, and after only a few slow starts at mixing up words, not pronouncing words right, and stumbling over everything, he had decided it was best not to pick me for the last month. I probably should have been in a special class, but for one reason or another, no one bothered to care how I read. At that time, I just thought I was stupid when it came to reading and complex math, so I kept as quiet as I could about that shame, only telling my best friends. The clock on the wall seemed to hesitate between each tick, and I could hear it mocking me as each slow tick seemed to echo in my head. It was like the clock face had a sudden mouth, and it was sticking its tongue out, and I could feel it inside me, acting like a little brother, taunting me. “You’re gonna pee your pa...a...ants,” I could just somewhat see and hear the sing songy face of he clock trying to make me lose my self respect, what little I had. I mean, I already couldn’t read right, and I couldn’t keep my numbers straight. Wasn’t that enough shame for a twelve year old without making me piss myself, too? I squeezed really tight as I felt a strong sudden wave trying to seize my body, and the sounds of other readers seemed to fade a bit as I concentrated harder and harder on my muscle. I was NOT going to let even a little more out, no matter how it bothered me, and it sort of gave me a dull ache. I didn’t care. There was no way I’d do that-- willingly. The clock on the wall continued to grin at me as the minute hand vibrated with a click eight minutes until time to get out of class. People had been reading along, and I had not heard the last several people even, let alone, had the concentration to move my wide strip of paper to follow along! I was shaking. I hoped against hope. It was only eight minutes! “Megan!” the teacher sounded a little irritated. “Huh?” I asked a little confused at first why he would be addressing me. “Do you even know where we are?” he asked his voice sounding lower rather an more excited, but I somehow knew that if I said no, I’d be in trouble. I glanced around the room to try to count the number of readers, and then I tried to count the paragraphs. He never called on me in more than a month. Why did he have to decide to do so now? I found a paragraph that might have made sense, and it was fast enough, he didn’t say anything at first, as I started to try to stumble over the first couple of words. “We’ve already read that,” he sounded annoyed. “Sorry,” and I tried the paragraph under that. “You need to see me after class,” he frowned at me making me feel scared, embarrassed, and my pee was still worrying me, and the clock was still laughing at me. I shook in my seat, but he ignored me and went on to the next person after me. The time continued to tick slowly, and before the bell, I felt a little bit of drizzle before I suddenly realized it, and pulled myself out of my worries about what he was going to do to me long enough to get control. Shaking, I put my hand under my desk. No one seemed to notice. I felt the front of my jeans, but I didn’t feel anything by the zipper. No one noticed yet. I lifted a little and slipped my hand under my bottom, wincing, scared of what I’d feel. My legs were white-tight pressed together, my knees nearly hurting from rubbing the ball round bones against one another, and my hand pushed at the fabric under my butt. It was a bit damp, but it wasn’t all over. Maybe no one noticed. Fully aware that another leak would definitely get me noticed, I pulled my hand out from under me, and carefully kept looking at my book, as I wiped my smelly hand on the side of my pants to get the dampness off of it. I started to smell myself instantly. I knew I had leaked, and now, I was starting to worry that I smelled bad enough that everyone else knew it, too. I scooted in my seat, my knees doing tiny bounces off of each other for fear of moving too wide and letting the flood out. The clock mockingly bounced its minute hand, not obviously, but just enough, that through the echo the sound made in my head, I knew it was just making fun of me. My knees rubbed through my jeans, pressing and hurting. My privates pulsed and ached at me to release the water inside. The teacher was staring at the reader. An echoing voice that I didn’t hear the words of was making sounds from trying to read, but I can’t understand the words. A bead of sweat gathered at my brow. My face felt warmer, and then cool, and then warmer again. I could feel myself breathing, and I could almost hear the nervousness of the air escaping my mouth. I hoped, as I looked around, that no one else could tell how scared I was, and how close I was to peeing in my pants!
  3. I am an abdl in Raleigh NC. I am looking for friends younger than me to maybe get to know each other and possibily get together for some diaper fun. May even have a daddy who can take care of us during our playdate.
  4. Chapter I: Switch Responsibilities Rachel and Monica sit on the couch, sipping their coffees. Monica looks frazzled, while Rachel seems unusually calm. Rachel: Monica, I've been doing some thinking. I think it's time for us to take a break. Monica: A break? What are you talking about, Rach? Rachel: I can't handle all your demands and control anymore. I want you to know how it feels to be treated like a baby. Monica rolls her eyes, dismissing Rachel's idea. Monica: Oh, please! You can't possibly... As Monica finishes her sentence, Rachel pushes a pacifier into Monica’s mouth. She then takes Monica’s hand and pulls her to the restroom. Pulling out a diaper-mat and diaper out of her bag, she lays her down on the diaper mat and begins replacing her panties (which turn out to be wet), into diapers. Across town, at Maclearen’s Pub, Robin sits at the bar sipping her drink as her best friend, Lily enters. Robin: You know, Lily, now that the guys are away, I think it's time for you to experience what it's like to be treated like a baby. Lily: What? Are you serious? Like At Central Perk, Robin pushes a pacifier into Lily’s mouth, before Lily could finish her sentence. Robin: You're going to use this. Let's see how it goes. Monica and Rachel’s apartment - Phoebe enters, looks at Rachel and then at Monica and starts laughing. Rachel: What’s so funny? Phoebe: My patient, Robin told me she’s also treating her best friend like a baby this weekend Rachel: Seriously? Do you think you can schedule a playdate? Monica: (being ignored) - No, I don’t want a playdate, I’m a grown-woman! That afternoon, Rachel and Monica enter Central Perk, Monica now wearing a diaper and sucking her thumb. They spot Robin and Lily, seating with Phoebe at a nearby table. Like Monica, Lily is dressed in a diaper, and sucking a pacifier as she seats on Robin’s lap. Phobe: Oh, hey, guys! Look who I found! Rachel: So, Robin, what made you decide to treat Lily like a baby? Robin: Lily, while motherly, she has always been immature, and acts like the baby of the group. She’s also a kindergarten teacher,who always wondered what her students go through. We had agreed awhile back to give her a chance to experience childhood, in order to better connect with her students. Why are you treating Monica like a baby? Rachel: Well, Monica is way too uptight and I just felt she needed to relax a bit. Also, she’s been treating me like a kid for some time, so maybe it’s good payback. As Robin and Rachel talked, Lily suddenly said: “mommy, I’m hungry.” Like a good mother, Robin pulled out a jar of baby food and began feeding Lily. When Monica was hungry she made the mistake of saying: “Rach, I’m hungry”.. Instead of taking a baby bottle, or a jar of food to feed Monica, Rachel had a surprise for her. Rachel laid Monica down on her lap and began to breastfeed her. Not only was Monica in shock, but also were Phoebe, Robin and Lily. Rachel: I believe Monica deserves the full baby treatment. And anyways, she knows she isn’t supposed to call me Rachel. Central Park, Sunday Morning Lily and Monica in their respective strollers, one sucking her pacifier, while the other sucks her thumb. Phoebe: Alright, ladies! It's time for some outdoor fun. We're going to the park! Lily: Can we play in the sandbox, please? Robin: Of course, Lily! Go ahead, have fun! Lily and Monica quickly drop to their hands and knees and crawl into the sandbox, relishing the freedom of being carefree and childlike. Rachel: Look at them go! They're like little kids again. Robin: I have to admit, it's pretty adorable. The friends watch Lily and Monica play, their stress melting away as they embrace the simplicity of the moment. Phoebe: Monica, you look adorable with that thumb in your mouth. Are you enjoying your little baby experience? Monica: Maybe, just a little Phoebe: And you, Lily? Lily: I love being treated like a baby! Lily and Monica, exhausted from their playful adventures, lie down in the shade, using their strollers as makeshift beds. Rachel: Aw, look at them. They're tuckered out. Robin: Yeah, it's been quite the adventure for them today. Random Kid: Something smells stinky, I think those women pooped their pants Robin and Rachel check, and find that while Lily only wet herself, Monica did in fact go number 2. Like a good mother, Rachel cleans and changes Monica, while Phoebe and Robin provide a layer of privacy. Back home, Monica wakes up, only to learn that she had peed and pooped herself while sleeping. Chapter II: Monica has Issues Rachel anxiously sits in the waiting area with Monica on her lap. Monica looks unwell, her thumb still in her mouth. They are surrounded by colorful toys and child-friendly decorations. Rachel: Hang in there, Mon. The pediatrician will see you soon. Monica: I don't feel so good, Rach. I'm glad you're here with me. As the pediatrician calls them into the examination room, Rachel carries Monica and walks in, still keeping her close. The pediatrician, DR. WILSON, a kind and gentle woman, greets Rachel and Monica warmly. Dr. Wilson: Hello there! What seems to be the trouble today? Rachel: My friend, Monica has been feeling unwell lately, experiencing some discomfort. Dr. Wilson: I see. Let's have a look, shall we? Rachel helps Monica sit down on the exam table. Monica continues to suck her thumb, finding comfort in the familiar gesture. Dr. Wilson: Monica, sweetie, can you tell me where it hurts? Monica: My tummy hurts, and I don't feel good. Dr. Wilson examines Monica, checking her temperature and listening to her heartbeat. Dr. Wilson: Well, Monica, it seems like you might have caught a little bug. Nothing too serious, but we'll need to keep an eye on you. Monica: But I cannot move my legs and am having trouble going to the potty. Noticing a decline in Monica’s language with every word, Dr. Wilson explains Monica's condition to Rachel. As the two discuss Monica’s regression, Monica starts squirming uncomfortably. Monica: Mommy, I need potty Rachel: Ok Monica, give me 2 more minutes to finish the conversation with the doctor Monica: I cannot mommy, I go now. Not caring who sees, Monica sits down on a potty chair in the room with her pants still intact. Noticing this, Rachel rushes to Monica’s aid, pulling her pants down just in the nick of time. Rachel: Thank you Dr. Wilson, I’ll make sure we update you on Monica’s status. EXT. PEDIATRICIAN'S OFFICE - DAY Rachel and Monica exit the pediatrician's office, relieved that Monica's discomfort has been addressed. Rachel: See, Mon? We handled that situation like champs! As Monica sucks her thumb, she nods her head in acknowledgement to Rachel’s comment. Chapter III: Going Home As Rachel helps Monica walk home from the doctors office, it’s clear that Monica’s discomfort is once again increasingly evident. Monica: Mommy, I need potty Rachel: Oh no, not again. Can’t you hold it? Monica, sucking her thumb nods her head from side to side. Rachel: Ok, lets see if we can find you a public restroom to use. As Monica begins to cry, Rachel notices a dribble of urine coming down Monica’s leg. Noticing a drug store Rachel drags Monica into it, and locates the diaper aisle. After purchasing the diapers, Rachel takes Monica to the restroom, and removes her soiled cloths with a fresh diaper. To Monica’s horror, Rachel opens the door. Monica (in a moment of relapse): Rachel, I’m only wearing a diaper Rachel (As she turns to hug Monica): it’s either the diaper, or those soiled pair of pants Holding Rachel’s hand, Monica walks out of the bathroom, with nothing but a shirt and a diaper Random Kid: Look mommy, that woman is wearing a diaper. In the shock and overwhelming situation she now faces, Monica takes a step back as she regresses, she begins to cry and suck her thumb once again. In order to get home quickly Rachel drags Monica through the NY subway system, as they get off the subway, a block away from home, Rachel notices Monica’s diaper has been sagging a bit. Rachel: Monica, sweetie, did you have another accident? Monica stares blankly at Rachel as she sucks her thumb. Understanding that Monica has regressed farther, Rachel grabs her hand and walks home; with the understanding that neither of them has any idea what the future holds. Chapter IV: Babysat at Home The next day, Monica wakes up, not remembering what happened. She’s surprised by the fact that her thumb is in her mouth. As Monica removes her thumb from her mouth, she tries to get up, only to stumble and fall. Clearly, her legs are still not working properly… Monica: Rachel, Rachel, come help me I cannot get up. Phoebe: I’m coming Monica, one second Monica: Phoebe?! What are you doing here? Phoebe: Morning, sleepyhead! I'm here to babysit you today since Rachel had to go to work. Isn't it exciting? Monica blinks, still trying to process the situation. Monica: Babysit? But I'm not a baby, Phoebe. Phoebe: Oh, I know that, Mon, but sometimes even adults need a little extra care. Don't worry; I've got everything under control. As Phoebe helps Monica to the living room, she notices a kids potty chair. Monica: Hey, Phebs. What’s the potty chair for? Phoebe (excitedly): Well, I talked to Rachel, and she thought it would be a good idea for you to have a potty chair since we're using diapers. It's a little more grown-up than diapers, right? She Rahcel asked that you ask me whenever you need to go to the bathroom. Monica: But I’m an adult Phoebe: Are you? Really? I mean look at you? Monica didn’t even notice the wet diaper around her waist, or that she instinctively began to suck her thumb again. Mid-day Monica: I need to go potty Phoebe: ok, one second Monica: I need to go potty, now! Phoebe (walking into the living room): Uh Monica, did you go potty already? Monica looking at Phoebe and down at herself began to cry. Without thinking, Phoebe took Monica and began to change her diaper, acting as if this was all natural; and explaining that accidents happen. Seeing that Rachel and Monica were short on diapers, Phoebe got Monica and took her down stairs. Having a hard time dragging the grown adult, Phoebe decided to stop by the local Baby’s R Us and purchase a few things. With each thing on the list Monica tried to make a point she’s not a baby. Phoebe: We need diapers Monica: I’m a big kid! I go potty by myself Phoebe: Monica, you’re wearing a diaper and clearly using it for both peeing and pooping. Lets get some just in case Phoebe: We need a stroller Monica: Why? Me walk Phoebe: You asked for a piggyback ride all the way here Phoebe: and finally Pacifiers Monica shakes her head no as she sucks her thumb. On the way home with the goodies, Monica now sits in a brand new stroller, her thumb in her mouth, and a big teddy bear Phoebe got her, for being a good girl. Not far from home, they met up with Rachel, who Monica was more than happy to see. Rachel and Phoebe decided to grab a cup of coffee at Central Perk and Monica slowly drifted off to sleep in her stroller. Chapter V: Babysat at the Park That “one weekend” of babying between Lily and Robin turned into an ongoing-event. This weekend though, Robin had a late shift at work, and asked Phoebe to watch Lily for a bit. Phoebe: Hey Rachel, it’s Phoebe Rachel: Oh, Hey Phoebe what’s up Phoebe: I’m babysitting Lily today and am planning to take her to the park later. Does Monica want to come? Rachel: I’m not sure, I mean Lily is aware that she’s really an adult, and Monica, well, you know, Monica has regressed beyond her years. Phoebe: Oh come-on it’ll be fun! Rachel: fine! EXT. PARK - DAY Phoebe leads Monica and Lily through the park, enjoying the warm summer weather and the playful atmosphere. The sound of laughter and children playing fills the air. Phoebe: "Here we go, on our summer adventure, Monica and Lily, together forever!" Monica giggles, finding Phoebe's joyful spirit contagious. Lily: Phoebe, you're like the coolest babysitter ever! Phoebe: Well, thank you, little one. I always try my best! As they continue their walk, Robin arrives at the park to pick up Lily, who runs excitedly toward her. Lily: Mommy! Robin: Hey, sweetie! How was your playdate with Monica and Phoebe? Lily: Mommy, can I have my pacifier now? Robin chuckles and reaches into her bag, pulling out the pacifier. Robin: Alright, Lily. Just for a little bit longer, okay? Rember, we promised Marshall that by the time you get home, you’ll act like an adult again. And anyways, we said that you’re a toddler this weekend. Lily happily takes her pacifier, feeling comforted by its presence. INT. MONICA AND RACHEL'S APARTMENT - MONICA'S BEDROOM - Evening Monica, exhausted from the day's activities, lies down for a nap. She instinctively sucks her thumb, finding solace and comfort in the familiar gesture. Phoebe: She had a bit of an accident earlier, Rachel. I think she did a number 2 in her diaper. She seemed embarrassed and started sucking her thumb. I think she was also kind of jealous of Lily. Rachel looks concerned but also understands that accidents happen. Rachel: Poor Mon. Let her rest, Phoebe. I'll take care of her when she wakes up. INT. MONICA AND RACHEL'S APARTMENT - LIVING ROOM - Next Day As Monica is seating on Rachel’s lap, Rachel recalls her conversation with Phoebe from last night. Rachel: Hey Monica Monica nods yes as she stares at a kiddy show infront of her. Rachel: Mon, I've been thinking. Since you've been having accidents in your diaper, maybe it's time we try something different. What if we start repotty training you? Monica: Wha? Rachel: Monica, I know you’re in there, and I need my best friend back! Monica: Mama! Rachel: I know, Mon, but accidents happen, and I believe in your ability to regain control. It's not about treating you like a baby but rather helping you become more aware of your body's signals. And I'll be here to support you every step of the way. Rachel: From now on, whenever you feel the need to go potty, you let me know. We'll work together to help you regain control. It's all about open communication. I promise only Phoebe or I will take you to the potty. Fair? Monica: Yes, mommy. Over the next few days, Monica does remember to say “potty”, but rather than before, it’s usually right when or after she had already gone. Chapter VI: Monica and Rachel accept Monica’s Fate Seating at Central Perk, with Phoebe, Robin and Lily, Rachel was bouncing Monica on her hip. Monica: Mommy, me need to go potty Robin: Rachel, I see that you’re talking to Phoebe, would you like me to take her? Rachel: Sure Monica: Only mommy Rachel: It’s ok Mon, aunt Robin will take good care of you! As Robin walking with Monica towards the restroom, she heard a loud wet fart. Turning around, Rachel saw that Monica had done a number in her pants. Rachel: Monica we talked about this, you said you wanted to be a big girl. Now, this doesn’t look like a big girl, does it? Monica sucked her thumb as she began to cry. Rachel: What should I do? Phoebe: you know my thoughts, if monica wanted to be an adult she’d at least try Robin and Lily: I agree Rachel: Monica do you want to be a big kid or a baby Monica: baby Rachel: do you know what that means Sucking her thumb Monica wobbled hear her in yes motion Understanding Monica’s desires and state of her diaper, Rachel pulled out a diaper mat, no longer caring who sees Monica in this state. Over the next few days, Phoebe and Rachel began to notice increasing regression with Monica. She was no longer the responsible motherly figure of the friends group, but rather nothing more than a diaper wearing baby.
  5. Hi! 24f looking to find friends in the community. completely safe for work friends only please! As the titles says, im looking for other adult babies near central indiana, which includes albany,Alexandria, muncie,Yorktown and so on.
  6. Hello im a DL from paducah KY near Metropolis IL does anyone else live near by that is an AB/DL?
  7. Hi all! My babygirl and I are looking for friends in the community. Ideally, we would like to meet some people or couples to hang out with. Anything from going out to eat to just letting the littles play and color together. Not looking for anything lewd, just wholesome play time and friendship. If there is anyone interested in the Upstate SC area, message me.
  8. This is a sequel to A Thanksgiving Special, available wherever the best diaper stories are found (like here) and to A Christmas Special (here). Read those first or dive on in! _______________________ Basic party etiquette is if there’s a line for the guest bathroom, you wait. You do NOT go upstairs to use the host’s bathroom. But what if you can’t wait? These are your thoughts as you stand in the upstairs bathroom, unsure of what to do and with your partner not answering your texts. She probably can’t hear her phone above the music and your friends and acquaintances ringing in the New Year, still four hours away. You jump when there’s a knock on the door. “Um, occupied,” you say back. “I know,” says the host, a slight edge in her voice reminding you that you’ve invaded her private space. “Is everything okay,” she asks because you’ve been in there a while. The upstairs bathroom is right at the top of the stairs. She must’ve seen you go in, and there’s a chance others are noticing this exchange. “Y-yes … Could you …” You hesitate, embarrassed already and reluctant to add to your embarrassment by being a grown adult asking for someone to go get your partner because you need help in the bathroom. But you don’t have a choice and ask. The emotional stress is becoming physical as you hear your host’s high heels tapping against the hardwood as she descends the stairs. It’s a long five-minute wait, or maybe not even one minute, until you hear two sets of heels returning before a knock on the door. Your partner’s voice has never sounded so good to you. “Are you okay,” she asks. She doesn’t need to ask who’s inside; no one else at the party would need her help in the bathroom. “Yes,” you answer with your voice quivering. You’re not the crying type, or at least you weren’t until recently; you’ve been trying so hard to convince yourself your newfound tendency to get teary is coinciding with your return to diapers on only by coincidence. Outside the bathroom, your partner is asking your host to go and get her bag from the guest room. You hear her saying she should be able to pick it out among all the others because it will be the biggest, and she asks as casually as she can, but with sharpness communicating it’s a minor emergency, if the two of you can use the master bathroom. You hear heels retreating again, and your partner whispers through the door, “Unlock the door, sweetie.” You do and she opens it just enough to peek her head around the corner. “C’mon, let’s go.” “I can’t,” you say with a mix of plaintiveness and frustration. “We’re just going down the hall to Jen’s bedroom. Quick.” She reaches out her hand for yours, and you let her lead you down the hall. It’s unfortunate the upstairs bath is at the top of the stairs leading up from the kitchen, where people tend to gather as they often do at parties. You do your best not to notice whether anyone below is watching as your partner leads across the landing before the two of you disappear from the party’s sight. “I’m sorry,” you say to your partner. “Hold on,” she says, “Almost there.” When the door closes behind you, you can’t hold it in anymore and start to cry hard while apologizing over and over. “I’m sorry,” you tell her, and you need her to know you’re sorry. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” “Shhh,” she says while pressing your face to her shoulder, giving you a warm, dark place to let your tears free. “You don’t need to be sorry.” “I’m sorry.” “Shhh,” she says and rubs small circles on your back, “don’t be sorry. Never be sorry for this. It’s not your fault.” You feel her hand surreptitiously slide down past your waist to pat your bottom. “It’s not your fault.” That’s how Jen finds the two of you, your partnering trying to calm you down while you sob into her shirt and tell her, “I tried. I really tried!” “Shhh. I know you did. It’s okay. There, there.” She notices Jen, who quickly closes the door behind her, and continues patting your back. “This is why we talked about it being okay to stop trying. It just makes you so upset, honey.” “Is everything okay,” Jen mouths to your partner. You feel her nod in response, and ow cognizant you’re not alone together, you pick your head up and do your best to dry up your tears, sniffling hard and wiping at your eyes with your palms. “I’m sorry,” your partner says to Jen. “Thanks so much. We’ll be as quick as we can.” Rather than handing her the bag, she approaches and asks, “Need a hand?” You can’t believe your ears, which turn an impossibly deep shade of red as your partner declines, explaining, “Thanks, but you don’t want to do that. It’s a big change, if you know what I mean.” “I don’t mind.” You don’t even want to be there, making it unfathomable to you why Jen would even offer, let alone why she didn’t take the out your partner had politely offered her. Indeed, having implied what kind of accident you had, your partner was more polite to Jen than to your feelings. Not that it upsets you very much, aware as you are of the scent beginning to make itself known, taking away any chance to hide the nature of what you did in your diaper. No use getting upset over a moot point. “We’ll just be in each other’s way in the bathroom.” “It’s a big bathroom.” “But really?” your partner asks. “How long have the three of us been friends? Let me help. Call it being a good host,” she chuckles. “An exceptionally good host,” she adds. Your partner takes a deep breath she lets out in a sigh, and while you stand there anxiously unable to stop it, she accepts. You want to protest, to say no, to say this is private, to thank Jen and show her out of her own bedroom. But you know you don’t get a say. If you’d had a say on Thanksgiving, you’d still be wearing underpants … and you’d be facing a much larger and more embarrassing problem. Everything having to do with your diapers since Thanksgiving has only reinforced that you don’t get a say when it comes to your diapers. The point was driven home the day before when your partner sat you down to tell you she’d informed your friends of your problem and how you were handling it, again explaining it was better this way, not having to hide it or risk being discovered and sure that your friends would all embrace you and be understanding, would probably never even mention it. She’d been right about that with her family and with yours, but the frustration with your condition and the sense of powerless over it now had been building for longer than just the past month, and it came out then as you raised your voice and told her she had no right to do that. She spoke firmly without raising her voice in turn. “I have every right because you wouldn’t be handling it at all if I didn’t take charge,” she said pointedly, all the more embarrassing because you knew it was true. “And you do not raise your voice.” Like she didn’t ask when she put you in diapers or when she told her family, your family, and all your friends, she didn’t ask when she put you in a timeout to calm down. She was already calm; it was you who needed a moment to collect yourself and make peace with what was about to happen. After your spanking and the jig you danced coming off her lap with a red, stinging bottom, she let you cry on her shoulder as she alternated between rubbing and patting your butt. You received a loving lecture about raising your voice and how you must accept that you do need help and will receive it whether you want it or not. “You’re leaking right now,” she said, and you looked down at yourself to see she was right – you were dribbling on her jeans. “I’m not trying to embarrass you. I’m trying to take the embarrassment away. You need help, and I’m going to give it you. Understand?” You do, which is why you don’t fuss when your partner takes your hand again and leads you into the bathroom with Jen in toe. “I’m sorry we need your bathroom for this. Just seems much better than using the hall one where others could see me disappearing behind the door and two of us coming out,” your partner explains. It’s comforting to know she really is concerned with your feelings and wants to spare you embarrassment, or at least all the embarrassment she can, and you remember the New Year’s Resolution the two of you had talked about that morning during your after-breakfast change, that you will try your hardest to trust her to help you with your problem. “I get it,” Jen says with a wink, though who it’s directed to isn’t clear. It’s somehow less embarrassing for you to stay silent and let everything happen to you, so you do while the two of them chat like nothing is out of the ordinary as you walk into her bathroom. “Could you get everything out while I get them undressed? Lift your foot for me.” You do and she takes off your shoe, followed by the other, narrating as she goes. “Learned the hard way it’s best just take pants all the way off for big changes, didn’t we hun?” “True no matter their age,” Jen says as she unfolds the very large changing mat your partner found on Etsy. Too big good for a shopping trip, but ideal for making sure makeshift changings rooms are left as clean as you find them on longer outings when you don’t have to to carry the diaper bag everywhere. You step out of your pants and cringe a little while your partner examines the inside to be sure they’re clean. “Turn around for me, honey.” You do, and she puts her hand on your bottom, patting it once and seeming to lift it for a moment before letting droop again, sizing up the task ahead of her. “Open your legs a little, sweetie,” Jen says from down on the floor. You do, preferring to think on the you’ve become ‘sweetie,’ ‘honey,’ and ‘sweetheart’ to so many in the past five weeks, in addition to ‘sport,’ ‘tiger,’ and ‘kiddo,’ rather than the sight you’re presenting or whom you’re presenting it to. “The onesie got a little,” Jen says, pointing to where your onesie disappears between your thighs. “Are you feeling okay,” your partner asks you. “Something not agree with your tummy?” You shake your head. Your tummy felt fine now. And you didn’t feel sick before. Just an urgent need followed by a minor pain as you tried the knob on the guest bathroom only to find it occupied. You’re not supposed to take your diaper off yourself, but you imagined your partner somehow wouldn’t mind under the circumstances and quick stepped toward the stairs, hoping no one noticed. You must’ve been discreet because your partner keeps such an attentive eye on you, but she didn’t see you duck around Jeremy as you sped through the kitchen and up the stairs. Only Jen noticed where you’d disappeared to, and you were grateful she had, if only because your partner didn’t respond to your text after you’d closed the door and finished what had begun happening in your pants as you awkwardly climbed the steps. “Ready,” Jen says. “Wait – are you sure you’re done?” A humiliating question, but you and your partner had learned that lesson the second week of you being back in diapers. “Trust me,” your partner gently scoffs as she reaches around to pat your bottom again, “definitely done. There’s a wet bag in there.” Jen turns back to the diaper bag while your partner takes her heels off and sets them aside next to Jen’s. She unbuttons your shirt, and Jen takes it from her to hang on the back of the door after making sure your shirttail was spared. You can’t help but note the disparity between two women dressed in their best and you naked except for your socks and a well-used diaper. Your partner kneels down to unsnap your onesie. “And gloves,” she adds as she stops herself, remembering your diaper wasn’t quit enough this time. “O! Here,” Jen says and hands her a pair. Mind if I …” “Help yourself, and actually, in the little pocket on the outside are some hair ties.” Jen gets out a second pair of gloves for herself, but only one hair ties that she hands to your partner. Jen’s happy to help, but she’s not going to put herself in a position, literally, in which she’d need to tie her hair back. Your partner takes the rubber band and puts her hair into a ponytail, and you feel a pang of regret, though not for what you’d done; you are already getting over that, because your partner is right and you can’t help it. No, your regret is for how hard your partner worked on her hair for the party. “Sorry,” you say. “I told you, sweetie, nothing to be sorry for.” “For your hair. You did such a nice job on it. Sorry about … It looked really good … You still look great tonight.” She smiles as though remembering in that instant why she loves you, which is why helping you with a loaded diaper isn’t a yucky chore but something she doesn’t mind and even does lovingly. She kisses you, and you awkwardly stand there as she kneels down again. “Turn for me,” she says and holds out a hand toward Jen for a wipe. You do, looking straight ahead as the less of awkward option than looking down at Jen. Your partner uses the wipe to get the hem of your onesie as clean as she can before turning you back around. She unsnaps it and wipes it a little more before saying, “Arms up.” She carefully rolls your onesie up as she stands, covering the dirty part with the clean part to be sure nothing else gets dirty as she takes it off you. Jen holds out her hand to take the onesie to put in the wet bag. After a moment’s assessment of the state of your diaper, your partner says, “Better if we take your plastic panties off with you laying down.” She kneels down again, and you carefully ease yourself onto the changing mat. “Careful,” Jen says anyway, though not sharply. A reminder, not a scolding. “We’ve come this far without a blowout. Don’t wanna fumble on the 1-yard line,” she chuckles. It’s a funny analogy, and you chuckle too despite everything. “Okay,” your partner says as she scoots closer to you. “Sorry you’re gonna see this, Jen.” “Hush. It’s not my first messy diaper change.” Your partner unsnaps your plastic panties, and you lift your hips to let her slide them out. “Just hold the bag open,” she says to Jen and drops them into the bag. Next comes the worst part, and you put your arms across your face as the tapes are torn and that feeling of humiliation returns. Jen leans down and places a kiss on your forehead. “It’s okay,” she promises you. If your eyes were open, you would see that neither of them changes their expression when your partner opens your diaper. It doesn’t bother them in the slightest, something that surprised your partner the very first few times she helped you clean up a messy accident, and she chalked up her unexpected fortitude to her feelings for you. Among those feelings was never pity, just an understanding sympathy. She’s never put it quite in these words, but to her, you are not a person to be pitied but to be loved, admired for your inner strength and perseverance and bravery because you don’t let your problem control your life, and to be cherished because you make her happier than anyone else ever has, the way she does for you. You hear her hum a tune she sometimes hums and that sounds much like one your mother sang you to sleep with many years ago. And you feel her wipe, and you respond to her hands as she gestures with a tap to open your legs to clean inside your thighs. “Okay,” she says, “Up we go.” You raise your ankles, and she helps you hold them up in her left hand while she cleans with her right. “I got that,” Jen says and takes hold of your ankles. “Thanks.” Bored, Jen keeps holding your ankles with one hand and gets a clean diaper out of the bag with the other. “These are so stinkin’ adorable. I can’t believe they make pampers for adults.” “They don’t. It just looks like an actual pampers. Isn’t it cute?” “I love this little lion. Where did you find these?” “Japan. Had to bend over backwards and ask a coworker there for a huge favor to get them, but I wanted these. We’re doing our best to be lighthearted about this, aren’t we,” she asks you rhetorically. “And you really are so sweet and adorable in them.” You blush from the compliment and know that it’s objectively true. ‘Cute,’ ‘sweet,’ and ‘adorable,’ more words almost never used to describe you until your partner put you back into diapers, and you don’t hate it even if you’ll never admit it. After another minute, your partner sighs, and Jen asks, “Everything okay?” “Yeah … just … this is just gonna take a while.” “Needs a bath?” “Can we,” your partner asks with apologetic eagerness. “I really wouldn’t ask, but …” “No no no, not a problem. Totally okay.” “Thanks. Just let me get a little more. A little higher.” Jen tilts your legs back a little further, raising your lower back off the changing pad, and your partner slides the dirty diaper out from under you, using a few more wipes to clean you up before moving the diaper out of the way. “Okay, down.” You lower your legs while your partner rolls the small pile of dirty wipes inside the diaper, sealing it tightly with its own tapes. She moves to put it into the wet bag, and Jen stops her. “I’ll take that to the trash.” “Really?” “Unless you need my help with the bath.” “No, but we can take it home.” “Don’t be silly. I’ll take it straight to the outside trash.” “Thanks. What do you say?” “Thank you,” you say, and you mean it. You didn’t need to be reminded to say it, but you don’t mind. “Really, thank you.” “Big time,” your partner adds. “You’re a great friend.” “Anytime. See you two back downstairs in a bit.” “Thanks,” you say. “but I don’t really wanna go back downstairs.” “You can come back down,” your partner says. “No one will tease you or even look at you funny. I promise. You don’t have to, but you can.” “And if anyone does give you a funny look, I’ll shove them right out the door,” Jen adds. She really is a good friend. “But that won’t happen. Everyone understands. None of our friends are those kind of people.” And she’s right, or none of you would be friends with them. Still, since your partner told everyone about your problem and the solution, they must have surmised by now why the three of you have disappeared for so long, and you’re embarrassed about it whether anyone says anything to you or not. You’d rather just go home. “I know, and thank you, really, but I think I’ll just get a Lyft.” “Wanna go home,” your partner asks. Jen is still kneeling above you. “Yeah,” you tell her. “Sorry.” “It’s okay. And you don’t need to call a Lyft. We’ll go together.” “I don’t want you to miss the party. It’s only nine o’clock.” “That’s okay. I don’t mind. I’m not gonna let you ring in the New Year alone,” your partner says. “You can stay up here if you want. I don’t mind.” “We can’t impose any more than we have,” your partner says with an apologetic scoff. “O, stop it.” “Well,” your partner asks you, “you wanna stay up here? You can come back down later if you feel up to it, or just hang out up here.” “Yeah, okay,” you agree. That’s a good compromise. You rather would just go home, but you don’t want her to miss the party, nor do you want her to start the New Year alone any more than you do yourself. “Thank you.” “You’ve said that enough. Let’s just assume it,” Jen says sunnily. “Need a change of pants,” she asks, addressing the question to your partner. “We never go anywhere without a spare,” your partner tells her. If your onesie was a little dirty, your pants must be too even if it wasn’t so easy to see. “And some jammies just in case.” Just in case of what, Jen wonders but doesn’t ask. No matter. No answer will make her think differently of you. “I’ll leave the remote on the bed. You can rent anything you want. I’ll bring you a snack and something to drink.” “You don’t have to do that,” your partner responds. “I’m the host,” Jen says and stands up, smoothing out her dress and reaching over to turn the tap on. “Here,” she adds and holds out a hand. Your partner hands her the dirty diaper you made, and Jen is surprised by its weight but doesn’t say anything. You try to put the thought of her carrying that thing through the kitchen where anyone, and probably more than a few someones, can see it out of your head. “See you in a bit,” your partner says. Jen leaves, and your partner helps you sit up and step into tub. She turns off the tap with just a few inches of warm water in the tub. “Lean against the back like at home,” she says even though you know the routine, a seemingly once-a-week affair since going back to diapers as once a week, give or take, you’ve needed a change wipes alone were not enough for. She stands, takes off her gloves and puts them in a ziploc bag. You watch as she takes off her little black dress and hangs it next to your shirt on the back of the door before rolling down her stockings and doing the same with them. In just her satin bra and panty set, she turns her attention back to you. When you’re clean and the water has been changed twice, she fills the tub almost to the top and tells you to lean back and relax while she runs a bar of soap from your neck to the soles of your feet once more. She chuckles. “What,” you ask. “You’re going into your jammies after we get a clean diaper on you. No way are you coming back downstairs, are you?” You frown and look down. “It’s okay. I’m not mad or anything. I just know when you look sleepy.” “Sorry I spoiled the evening.” She stops washing you and takes her chin in her hand to turn your face to hers. “Hey, you did not spoil the evening because the evening isn’t spoiled. We’re together, aren’t we?” “Yeah.” “Then I’m having a great time. Believe me?” You do, and you nod hurriedly as your eyes fill with tears again. “I’m sorry,” you manage to say as you let out a sob. “Don’t. Be. Sorry,” she says with her gentle firmness. “Not for crying. Not for your accidents. Not for needing diapers. Not for needing my help. Not because of the party. Don’t be sorry for any of it.” “Okay,” you say as the swell of emotion rises in your throat that do your best to choke back down as you try to let her words and kindness soothe you. She kisses you on your temple, wets a clean washcloth, and dabs at the few tears that escaped your eyes. “I love you,” she says and means it in every way. “I love you so much too.” “I know.” She reaches over and opens the drain. When you’re diapered and in your jammies, she sends you into the bedroom while she gets everything packed away and puts her dress and shoes back on. “Where are your stockings,” you ask when she joins you. “In the bag with your shirt and shoes. Maybe someone will notice and think you seduced me and that we’ve been up her getting’ busy this whole time.” You have a good laugh with her. “Are you okay with me going back downstairs?” “Yeah, really.” “Need anything,” she asks, nodding toward the plate of hors d’oeuvre and desserts Jen left on her nightstand for you next to a glass of water and your favorite cocktail. “No, thank you.” “Blanket,” she asks and starts to unfold the throw Jen keeps at the foot of her bed. “I can do it myself.” She smiles, chagrinned. “I know.” She turns back to you and kisses you on the forehead again. “I’ll be up to check on you.” “You don’t need to.” She makes a tight smile, an expression she often wears when you tell her something isn’t necessary right before she repeats herself in a gentle yes-but-we’re-doing-it-anyway tone. “I’ll be up to check on you. Text me if you need anything.” “‘Kay.” “And I’ll be back before the ball drops. You owe me a New Year’s kiss.” “Wake me up if I’m asleep. I don’t wanna miss it.” “Deal.” She kisses you on your forehead again. You’re asleep every time she, once with Jen, comes up to check on you. True to her word like she always is, she wakes you to share the perfect New Year’s kiss. Happy New Year and don’t forget to check out my 2022 bedwetting calendar for ABDLs, recreational bedwetters, and their caregviers for sale now on Lulu.com!
  9. Hello all! Introducing myself.. Let’s start with my husband and I wear 24/7. Married 20+ years and finally opening up our relationship to involve others. We are both educated and professionals. I am bicurious. He is the sub in all this and will be with whomever I say. Most do not understand this lifestyle so I figured I would branch out here to start up new friendships. Feel free to send me a message and ask any questions you like! We do travel often so don’t let Houston scare you! Dprcple
  10. Hello! I've recently moved to Plattsmouth and am looking for some fellow friends in the area, possibly more if luck were to have it. Just looking for connections to make.
  11. Since I'm new to the abdl community, I wanted to start off on the right foot and make some friends! If you're in or near the Columbia area, let me know! I also want to get to know some mommies and daddies too. (No one over 30, please.)
  12. Dude with a massive Nappy fetish looking to meet like minded people in and around Bournemouth and Poole. for a long time I have wanted to reach out to find someone my my interests but never worked up the courage. so yeah I am into nappies, wearing a very wet huggies drynite as I write this :), and I would love to meet up with others to make friends and potentially wear together. mostly into the DL side of the kink but would with the right person be up for trying the AB side of it.
  13. Hello, All Hi there my name is David. I am a 33 single year white male that stands 5'11 inches tall, Hazel eyes, Black hair. I am from Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania born and rasied my whole life. I am easy to talk too, down to earth, sweet, caring, loving, loveable, fun, funny, great personality, opened minded, playful, kinky, babyish, ect. Into many different hobbies such as cars, hanging out with friends, listening to music, sports, shopping, video games, movies, Tv, nightlife, movies, playing poker, much more. I am a ABDL and into the Lifestyle/Fetish looking to make friends and possible more. Also never joined a ABDL chatrooms so new to that and Always kept things to myself since Family/Friends don't know that I am into this. Would enjoy talking and getting to know others. If any Questions please feel free to ask.
  14. Hello all. I am a DL/daddy type looking for people with similar interests in Cincinnati, Ohio. If interested, you can message me. I prefer people around my age, younger is a plus.
  15. Over the course of my life, I've had a few times where friends or family have brought up diapers in strange or weird contexts. A few examples follow. While playing D&D we somehow got onto a discussion of useful noncombat magic items. Self heating fry pans, self cleaning clothes, etc. When one person suggested magical diapers of absorbency +1. For a while I had a Quora account. A question popped up in feed about gaming and wearing a diaper for an ultra long session. Someone had posted an answer that they should wear a diaper. Out of curiosity I clicked through to see who had answered that. It was one of my brothers. Which I found odd, because to the best of my knowledge he neither games nor wears diapers. One of my sisters is a nurse, and works the overnight shift at a nursing home. She works most holidays, so we rarely see each other. One Christmas we were talking and she suggested, jokingly, calling me between her changing residents diapers. An Aunt of ours walked by and only heard the changing diapers bit. She asked me when I was going to start that (asking when I was going to get married and start a family). I didn't reply that I'd change my diaper that night before bed. So has anyone else had this sort of thing happen to them? Share the stories if you want.
  16. Hey all! I’m trying to raise awareness of an abdl open house coming up in Fort Wayne! It’s free! Details in the link! https://thediaperladies.com/special-event
  17. I felt the weight in my belly, and shifted in my seat a little. It was uncomfortable, but not urgent. I could finish the sketch. Besides, everyone was sitting quietly watching a film, and if I moved now I'd disturb them. And lose my seat in the big comfy chair. And everyone would probably move so I'd have to start the drawing all over again. Definitely best to stay put. I looked around the room, and for a moment my headspace slipped a tiny bit and I considered how weird it was. There were twelve of us in total, friends renting an Airbnb for the weekend as a way to catch up and chill out. So far so normal. Except nine of us, myself included, were wearing nappies under our clothes, and most of that nine were in cute onesies, sucking on dummies. I hadn't started out as an age player. I was turned on by nappies, and the sense of humiliation that came with wearing and using them. They were also a way to relax without having to worry about the bother of getting up to use the toilet. Over time, however, I'd fallen further down the 'cute' rabbit hole and at this point in spite of wearing what I'd come to describe as "big kid clothes", I was also sucking on a dummy, with my stuffed sloth and cuddly robot (the world's greatest crime fighting duo) close at hand. My attention came back to the feeling of needing to go, as I felt a pressure in my bottom increase. I relaxed a tiny bit and let out a silent fart. I'd had hang ups about my interest in nappies for a long time, but in recent years, after falling in with a nice crowd in the local ageplay scene, I'd become far more comfortable, and even become OK with wearing them when I was around other people. First on a one to one basis, then under my clothes at kink events. People knew I was wearing, but it was still subtle enough for me that it felt ok. I wasn't being submissive or smoll around strangers, and so I had enough control that I still felt safe. This trip away was about changing that. I was envious of the people who could wander around at events without a care in the world, so this weekend, surrounded by people I trusted, I was going to push myself further than I'd been before. Maybe not do the baby thing, a lot of that bored me, but at the very least give up control completely and let someone else be in charge. "Ew, that stinks" one of the girls cried out as the smell from my fart reached her. I blushed a little, and curled up into my chair, embarrassed. This caught the eye of one of the three 'Bigs' in the room. He came over to me, looked me in the eyes and asked, "Have you had an accident?" I shook my head vigorously. "Stand up please" he said, helping me up out of my chair. With everyone in the room watching, he undid my jeans and let them drop to around my ankles. He put his hand on the front of my nappy, squashing the slightly soggy padding. "Hmmm… someone's telling fibs" he said, "you'll pay for that later on". "I thought you meant a messy accident" I gulped out. "Well as you can't be trusted to tell me when you use your nappy, let's check for that too, shall we?" He turned me around so my back faced the room, then cupped the bottom of my nappy, before bending down and giving it a sniff. "Hmmm…" he mused, as he stood back up. He then pulled back the waistband, and peeked inside. "Nope. Clean." He said, a hint of disappointment in his voice. I smiled as he turned me around, "see!" I said, a smug tone to my voice, "I wasn't lying." "Except about being a soggy pants" he replied. "Its only a little damp!" "Well an accident is an accident as far as I'm concerned" he said, a slightly stern tone to his voice, "and a fib is a fib. Now sit back down please." I did as he told me. He bent down and picked my jean's up off the floor. "I'll be taking these, as you can't be trusted to be honest with me, then you can't be trusted to have your nappy covered." I blushed, and tried to edge back into my seat to hide my nappy as best I could. Embarrassed by how obvious my crinkly, soggy state now was, I picked up my sketchbook again and continued drawing. I managed to finish just as the film ended. A few minutes later everyone moved into the other room to play games. I started to get up, but the weight in my belly had become worse, and I realised I was minutes away from losing control and messing myself. I sat back down and curled back into my chair. Another one of the Bigs came over. "Don't want to play the games?" She asked. I shook my head. "Come on, you'll have fun." "Ok" I said, a little reluctant. I stood up slowly, careful to clench my butt cheeks together to avoid an accident. The Big saw this, "Do you need to sit on the potty?" She gestured over to the plastic potty chair that had been left in the corner of the room. My eyes went wide. It was one thing to have someone take me to the toilet, but to sit on an actual potty in the middle of the room, even an empty room, was too terrifying. I shook my head. "Well I guess you've got your nappy on if you have an accident" she teased, patting my butt and ushering me along. Slowly, carefully, I waddled into the dining room. Everyone was sitting around the table, playing board games. I pulled out a chair and sat down. At first I just watched, but the next round I decided to join in. I was having so much fun I completely forgot about my discomfort. That was until I stood up to take my turn. My stomach lurched. At first I just began to pee, unleashing a flood I was worried was going to cause a leak. Then I felt the hold on my sphincter give out as the poo pushed its way into my nappy. I froze for a moment, but realised that would give the game away to everyone, and stupid as it sounds, I wasn't quite ready for that. I finished my turn, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible, then sat down. I winced a little as the mess squished against my backside and spread throughout my nappy. I wasn't sure if anyone had realised what was happening when I messed myself, but between the smell, the lack of trousers, and the obviously used padding, it wouldn't be long before they worked it out. I tried to concentrate on the game, but all I could focus on was the twitching of people's noses, the sound of them sniffing. Other littles had wet themselves so far, but no one had been messy. I wasn't even certain other people did that sort of thing, although we'd all agreed beforehand it would be ok if people wanted to. One thing I was certain of, after the moment earlier while watching the film, was that once it was noticed there would be no keeping it a secret. Suddenly all eyes fell on me, and for a moment I thought I'd been rumbled, until I realised it was my turn in the game. Reluctantly I stood up, and as I did the smell from my nappy wafted through the room. "Someone's a stinky butt" the girl who smelled me earlier announced. I blushed, as I muttered a weak "no I'm not" from behind my dummy. I don't know why I lied at that point, but it seemed to fit the role I'd fallen into, the kid who still has accidents, but doesn't like to admit it. "Are you sure about that? " asked the Big who had led me into the room, "liars get a smacked bottom and corner time". I considered this for a moment, "I haven't had an accident", I said petulantly, "I'm not a baby". "Oh really?" Miss Big countered, taking my hand and leading me away from the table so there was absolutely no way of hiding the state of my nappy from anyone. She squished the front of the padding, sending a shiver through my body, "well that's definitely a lie" she announced, "you're absolutely soaking". I felt her other hand on the back of my nappy, "As you haven't made a mess, I guess you won't mind if I do this" she pressed her hand firmly against my butt, forcing the mess against my skin. I shuddered again, from humiliation and pleasure. Her hand moved up to the waistband, and she tugged it back. I felt a slight rush of cold air against my butt and a waft of smell escaped the nappy. "Someone's a stinky little fiber, aren't they?" She teased. I whimpered, as the state I was in was confirmed for everyone. "Well, you were warned about not telling the truth" she continued. She pulled my chair out from the table and sat down, then took my hand and tugged it, leading me to lay down across her lap."I want you to count along each of the times I spank you, please." Her hand came down on my nappy. Between the padding and the mess it wasn't painful, I could barely feel anything beyond the impact, but the sensation of the mess being spread throughout my nappy, while everyone watched me being punished was overwhelming. I began to sob. Quietly at first, then full blown floods of tears. When the spanking was over the Big helped me up off her lap, then pulled me into a hug. She stroked my hair while I calmed down. Eventually she helped me up and led me into the adjacent room. I assumed this was for a change, but instead she walked me over to a corner. "You're going to stay here for five minutes please" she told me, "while you think about what you should have done when I asked you if you'd made a mess". I put my nose into the corner, and stood still sucking on my dummy. I tried to do as she had told me and consider what I ought to have done, but all I could really think about was how horny I was. My hand moved towards the front of my nappy… "What do you think you're doing?!" Miss Big asked, a loud and sharp tone to her voice. "Nothing." I replied. "Then keep your hands where I can see them, please. Put them on the back of your nappy, and push the mess up to remind you what you've done." I did as she asked and continued to stare at the wall, my eyes filling with tears once again. When the five minutes were up I was led back out of the corner. "Well done for being in the corner," Miss Big congratulated me "now what should you have done when I asked if you'd had an accident?" "Told you" I replied, still sobbing a little. "But i wasn't sure". "Really?" She asked, a hint of incredulity to her tone, "you didn't feel it when you messed your nappy? Or when you sat down in your mess? You couldn't smell it?" I shook my head. "I thought the smell was someone else" I said, meekly. "Then you should have told me that you weren't sure, and I would have checked." She explained, "it's ok that you have accidents in your nappy, that's why you're wearing them, and I don't mind you not being sure if you have, but that means I need to check to see." I nodded, stuttering out "ok. I'm sorry" from around my dummy. "I think it's just because you like being stinky and didn't want a clean nappy" she said, a grin on her face. I smiled, she'd definitely got that right. "Have you gone as much as you need to, or do you think you need to go more?" She asked. I shrugged. "Well let's keep you in that nappy a little while longer then". With that she took me by the hand and led me back into the dining room. She pulled out a chair and sat me down next to the girl who had smelled me before, who greeted me with a "hello, stinky butt." I smiled at her, gave her a big hug, and rejoined the game. After about half an hour Miss Big glanced across the table at me, "have you pooped your nappy any more?" "I don't think so" I said, blushing. "I think I'd like you to try for me" she said, "you can either sit on my lap and try here, or we can go in the other room and you can sit on the potty." I didn't know it was possible, but my face became even more red. "Potty" I requested. At least I'd get a little privacy. With that she took me into the living room and sat me, still in my nappy, on the potty. Then she rubbed my back while I tried to push out more mess. "Having any luck?" She asked as she watched me straining. I shook my head. "I'm going to be changing another messy nappy later on, aren't I?" I smiled behind my dummy, "maybe". "Well you've been very good trying to go more for me. And mostly good all day, so how about we give you a reward?" I grinned at that prospect. Miss Big led me into one of the bedrooms, where a mattress protector had been set out on the bed. "Lay down for me please" she requested, and I did as she asked. She grabbed several bundles of rope, and moved round the bed tying each of my limbs to a bed post. Then she took a blindfold and tied it around my eyes. I had a good idea of what was coming next, and the loud buzzing sound confirmed it. The next thing I knew a high powered vibrator was being held against the front of my nappy, and gently massaged around. I was already incredibly aroused, and this very quickly sent me straight to the edge. "Are you going to cum for me in that disgusting, stinky, messy nappy?" Miss Big asked. Words were lost to me now, but I forced out an affirmatory grunt. "Ask me for permission to cum then?" She instructed. I fought the waves of pleasure just enough to ask, "May I please cum?" "And what are you going to cum into?" She teased. It was almost impossible to think, but somehow I managed to say the words, "My disgusting, stinky, messy nappy". "And why are you cumming into a soggy, messy nappy?" She knew how to humiliate and torture me. "B… because I'm not big enough to use the toilet and I have accidents". "Good." She said, taking a pause that seemed to last forever, "then yes, you may cum" I stopped fighting, and waves of pleasure overcame me. As I did, Miss Big continued to hold the vibrator against the nappy, making the sensation last for so long that I thought I might pass out. Eventually she took the vibrator off, and I relaxed into a puddle of goo on the bed. She untied my arms and legs, then climbed onto the bed, pulling me into a hug. "Did you enjoy that?" She asked as she removed my blindfold. I just about yelped out a "yes". "Good". She held me, sharing her body heat with me and stroking me, letting me slowly come back down to earth. Eventually she glanced down at the nappy, which was starting to leak a little. "Best we get you changed, eh?" She suggested. I was in no state to argue. "One sec," she said, as she darted out of the room. When she returned, she had both my stuffies in her hands, as well as the wipes, cream and a fresh nappy. There also seemed to be something else, but I couldn't quite make out what. She handed me my stuffies, and I snuggled them tight and closed my eyes as she untapped the front of the nappy. "Wow" she declared, "you really did use this to its fullest extent, didn't you?" I was too spaced to give an answer, and instead just whimpered. I felt the wipes on my skin, as she cleaned me, wiping off the mess from my inner thighs and my bottom cheeks. she had me hold my legs up so she could clean my lower back and pull the nappy out from under me, then I felt a wipe inserted into my bottom. "Just making sure you're all clean" she told me, then followed with "stay like that for a second". I did as I was told. It was then she revealed the other thing she had brought into the room - a tunnel butt plug. "As you don't seem to care if you're messy or not, we may as well take your control away from you entirely. She covered the plug in lube, and gently eased it into my hole. It took a while, as I expanded to take the toy, but eventually she pushed it home. With the plug in, she slipped my clean nappy under me, then produced a fleet enema from her pocket and squirted it into my hole. She had me stay like that as the liquid trickled down past my now powerless sphincter and into my colon. After about a minute and a half she decided it was time to act. "Ok, legs down. Quickly." She instructed. I did as I was told, and she taped me into the nappy. "There you go" she said, "clean and dry. For about five minutes." A sadistic smile on her face. She helped me up and we headed back into the living room, where everyone was gathered around the TV, taking turns to play video games. I sat down and waited patiently for my go. Every so often I'd notice a smell, but it was brief so I ignored it. Then one of the Bigs went over to the girl who had called me a stinky butt. She was lying on the floor, colouring, and didn't even acknowledge him when he undid the bottom of her onesie. He pulled back the waistband of her nappy, then declared, "I thought as much", before doing the onesie back up. I scooted over to her and gave her a hug, telling her, "I'm glad I'm not the only one who has messy accidents". She giggled at that. Then it was my turn on the game. I got in close to the TV, and raised myself up on my knees so that I could see properly. It was a fighting game, best of three rounds. I won the first, lost the second. I was really getting into the game in the final round, when I suddenly noticed the smell again, but this time much worse, and it wasn't going away. I was having lots of fun though, and was close to winning, so I ignored it. I kept blocking every attack, dropping the block and getting a punch or a kick in here and there. It was tight. Finally I saw my chance. I moved the joystick left, then right, then left again. Then hit the buttons just right. A fireball launched across the screen, my opponent went down. I won. Delighted, I sat down on the floor hard. And that was when I realised why the smell was so strong. Miss Big had been right about my nappy only being clean for five minutes. Once again, I was a stinky butt. If anything I was stinker than before. I put the controller down and toddled over to Miss Big. "I think I've had an accident" I whispered to her. She smiled, "Are you sure?" "Yes" i said, nervously. Not wanting to draw attention to the fact that I had pooped my pants for a second time in under an hour. "Ok, well done for telling me." Miss Big said with that sadistic smile forming once again, "you go back and play, and I might think about checking you later to see if you need a change." My eyes went wide. "But everyone will find out" I begged. Miss Big hugged me, and put her hand on my butt, patting it in a way that was both very reassuring and also deeply humiliating. "Honey," she said, a soothing tone to her voice, "You're in a room filled with people who love you. You're also not wearing anything over your nappy. They knew as soon as you pooped yourself the first time. It was pretty obvious that it was happening while you leaned over the table, and they knew when you did it now, because they saw the back of your nappy fill up and the brown stain developing on your butt. They also all have a sense of smell, and that alone means theres no hiding what you've just done." She began to stroke my hair as I sucked harder on my dummy and tears welled up in my eyes, "and you know what? No one cares. Everyone thinks it's cute, and that you're cute." She kissed my head, and patted the seat next to her on the sofa. I sat beside her and cuddled close, "Now rest here a while", she said, picking up a bottle of milk from a table beside her and slipping it between my lips as she guided my head down into her lap, "you've had an exciting time so far, and I think you could probably use a nap".
  18. My name is opal, I’m 22, Lesbian and in Darmstadt Indiana. I’m a little 2-4, who would love to make some new friends. I’ve never had a mommy/caregiver/little friends, so I am pretty new to all of this. I love the outdoors, stuffies ?, coffee ☕, animals, flowers ? baking ?, fruits ? coloring ?️‍?, going on walks, apple juice ? I have the cutest doggy ? My favorite colors are baby blue ? & baby pink ? I love fuzzy stuff ? Some of my favorite shows are Steven Universe, Avatar the last Airbender, Rick and Morty, Studio Ghibli and Rupauls Drag Race ? I love just about every kind of music but Motionless in White is my favorite band ? Giraffes ? Doggies ? and Elephants ? are my favorite animals. I’d say I’m on the androgynous side ? Dislikes are yelling ?, belittling, the dark ?, racist/sexist ?, cheaters and lying! I also have a few health problems and anxiety ? I’d love to play outside and just having fun together! ??Nobody actually knows about this side of me and I would like friends I’d be able to talk to openly!??‍?‍??
  19. Hello all just was wondering if there was any abdls or babyfurs in Wagoner Oklahoma or close Wagoner who would want to meet up or just chat.
  20. I would love some friends especially people under the age of like 25. I’m a 19 yr old just looking for fun or friends! Hope to see some response. ?
  21. It started with a onesie Chapter 1 - Christmas For me it started a couple of Christmases back when I received a lovely green onesie as a present. I’d heard all about them being ‘the thing to wear’ and a friend had gone to the trouble of buying me one that encased my feet and had a ‘dropdown’ back flap as well. I thought it was a fun, though childish, item and at the time was surprised at just how comfortable it was to wear. I have never worn it outside the house but often, when I get home from work, I just love to cast off all my clothes and climb into that soft, fleecy and welcoming garment. At first I simply thought I was being trendy, wearing something that was very ‘current’ but fashion being fashion, that look moved on… but I didn’t. Friends who call when I’m dressed in my onesie, smirk to themselves and say that I look like a rather strange adult-looking baby. I merely reply that I don’t care and that I want comfort, not opinions from the fashion police. As it turned out, a few months after Christmas, for my birthday I received yet another onesie. Having raved about the one I had I suppose it made buying this one a bit easier for my friend. However, this time I’m sure my present-giver was either taking the piss or making a point about the whole ‘look’ being foolish. However, by making that particular point he’d taken the ‘look’ to the next ‘level’… so, the design is even ‘cuter!’ It is very childish; pale blue with rabbits and teddy bears all over it and, as if it was possible, even more snug to climb into. I’ve left my green onesie in the wardrobe and now wear, and sleep, in this one just about all the time. I’m not sure if it’s the same for everyone, but I find just wearing my comfy onesie makes me so much more relaxed. I also find, much to my surprise, that I am going to bed much earlier, sleeping deeper and waking far more alert than I used to. It is like going back to my childhood, and I have to say, I really enjoy the feel of reliving that less stressful time in my life. As my mates seem to think I’m silly and are not in the least interested in – as they call it - ‘my thing for babywear’, I thought I’d better look online to see if there are others who have the same experience as myself… and really love their onesie. I was, and still am, happily surprised to find loads of newsgroups and Tumblr images full of guys that enjoy onesies as much as I do. There are some who appear to love them even more and have taken the wearing of them to a different intensity. There are loads of images of men and youths who seem to have adopted the idea of complete regression while wearing the onesie. They are happy to wear childish, snug and colourful designs plus, to complete the image; they have a dummy (pacifier), drink from a baby’s bottle, wear a nappy (diaper) and appear to be looked after by a caring partner. At first I thought it all a bit strange but, in most of the images, everyone looks so at ease, comfortable and content with being who they are… and more especially, in what they are wearing. I found it all so damn cute. I’ve begun to think that I’d like to try all that for myself. You know, wearing a nappy to sleep in (heavens that takes me right back) and not caring what anyone else thinks, just letting go of being grown-up and enjoying letting my adulthood fade away for a few hours. I don’t have a partner to try it out with so it is down to me. According to the many online sites, adults and youths wearing nappies seem to be a bigger ‘fetish’ than I could have imagined, and some appear to have been into it for many years. Those who I could send messages to, and ask questions about what they do and what they wear, seem happy to chat. Some said that they just liked the feel of being a child again, it was an escape, others found it a turn-on, and some were ordered to wear them by a partner who liked control, while others passed it off as a ‘medical’ necessity. Whatever the reason I was constantly encouraged to try it out and see for myself. So, as I was already part way there with my onesie, I thought I may as well wear a nappy and my onesie together one night and see how it went. I love it even more. It was like the first time I wore my onesie, it all felt completely natural and I really felt relaxed and content. I’d been advised by some of the guys I chatted to online that it might take a bit of time to get used to the extra bulk between my legs but, I can honestly say, I don’t think I’ve ever slept better… with the possible exception of when I was a baby. So, thanks for the encouragement to all you guys on the net who, like me, have taken to this particular ‘fetish’ and find it both liberating and a revelation. I’m sure it is all in my head and that somehow I’ve just talked myself into this whole thing… and if I have… I am really glad. Even though I don’t consider myself an Adult/Baby I can see the positive in it. We’re all different and I’m sure we all get our own rewards from wearing the things we do... whatever that might be. My nappies come from the local chemist but to my surprise I was astounded at how much anyone could buy from eBay if they were too shy to go into a shop. Adult sized plastic and rubber pants, onesies specially made up for you and some outrageous ‘other’ items and outfits that might be fun to try at some point. I might be exploring this particular interest for some time as I can see there is more to it than at first appears. I know I don’t want to be a full time baby (I still have a job) but I do enjoy the feeling when I’m at home and dressed as one. To have a dummy in my mouth, while I cuddle on a big, soft stuffed animal gives me a superb, blissful feeling. More recently, I now often wear a nappy under my suit to work and that gives me a great feeling of satisfaction for the entire day. Before you ask, and although many guys and women love that side of things, no, I don’t wet or mess my nappy as that isn’t what I’m into. However, I am excited about something… my new short-legged, Sponge Bob Square Pants onesie is on its way and I can’t wait to wear that with the new terry towelling nappy and thick rubber pants I have waiting. **tbc**
  22. Hey, I'm a diaper lover from Louisville, Kentucky. I'm tryna see who is in the area and if anyone is up to meet up sometime.
  23. Hi, I'm a diaper lover who can get really dirty. Give me an email I would love to exchange videos and chat about my naughtiness. Hope to make some diaper friends that I can open up too about everything.
  24. Part One Sleep, study, social life; a good student could only afford two. Connie’s choice had been difficult enough without work in the mix. A thousand miles from home, sharing a room with a stranger, she clung to the future promised by her degree. Things would be better after that, even if the present was killing her. It was a brutal week of rude customers bookended with assignments. Connie could barely remember coming back from the library, or if she went back to the dorms at all. Every moment saw her crossing points from her endless to do list before trudging through the next item. She needed sleep. Whether it was a Wednesday or Thursday Connie could hardly tell; only that it was the afternoon and she had a window through which to crash. The handful of hours offered by her angel of a professor was a gift she was determined not to waste. Perhaps when she woke it would be with sanity restored. But even after her head struck the pillow rest evaded her. She closed her eyes and cleared her thoughts, but remained aware of herself and her surroundings. Her body, it seemed, had been trained to endure through exhaustion, and did not recognize the now alien nature of her reprieve. Something had to be done. On the rare nights she stayed in the dorm she watched her roommate, Emily, sleeping with her headphones on. ‘Relaxation tapes,’ she said, and they appeared to do the trick. Under the dim light emanating from her desk Connie would often find the other girl smiling in her sleep, sometimes squealing in delight; always peaceful, always happy. Oh, but for a fraction of that contentment! On any other day Connie would have left things as they were, but times were desperate. She opened the top drawer beside Emily’s bed and removed the small mp3 device sat inside. She replaced the headphones with her own. After scribbling a note to Emily, apologizing for borrowing without permission, she sprawled across the bed and hit play. Soothing music washed her thoughts. A gentle warmth ran to the tips of her fingers. All care melted into the ground. And then… **** Connie bunched the comforter in her arms, and held tighter as she began to stir. Better to bury herself in the warm fabric than think about how cold it was between her thighs. The thought landed; why were her thighs cold, and why were they wet? Connie started up in bed. Her heart nearly beat out of her chest when confronted by the stark reality. She’d wet the bed, like a small child! Her jeans, her underwear, her sheets, all stained and reeking. As though it weren’t bad enough the dread tightened when Emily stepped into the room with a gentle smile. Wild with panic, Connie threw the comforter over her lower half. Emily, however, did not falter, and kneeled by her side. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘This is all my fault!’ Connie knew the words, but the more she thought about them the less they made sense. Though they’d barely spoken she recognized Emily as a gentle soul; the kind of girl who’d grow up to be a perfect mom. Her long, straight, strawberry blond hair had the same divine aspect as her eyes, sparkling pale and green. That was to say nothing of her smile upon which she’d carried a thousand wounded souls. She took care of her friends, though Connie was hardly that. Even then, the gentle touch running down her arm was familiar, as though they’d known each other for the better part of forever. Emily winced. ‘You listened to my relaxation tapes.’ Guilt wrenched Connie’s chest. ‘Those aren’t normal tapes,’ Emily said. Words faltered on her tongue. ‘The point is this isn’t your fault. Everything’s going to be okay. Come on. Let me help you get cleaned up.’ Connie flinched at the thought. Help? Wet clothes and a wet bed were easy to handle, maybe, on any other day. Yet every time she tried to move her body resisted. The job became bigger and bigger as she became smaller and smaller, and none of it made any sense. Connie whined as tears started to flow down her cheeks. What was wrong with her? Next she knew Emily’s arms were around her, pulling her close, drawing circles on her back. The other girl hushed and sang and assured her that everything was going to be alright. Connie couldn’t explain why, but she believed her. Something about those gentle arms made the world safe; even more than her comforter when she was clinging tight. ‘You must be feeling very fragile right now,’ Emily said. She was. ‘And little.’ She was. ‘And you really wish someone strong and kind would come and make things better.’ Connie hesitated before giving a loose nod. Emily eased back to brush the stray hairs falling over Connie’s face. Her green eyes lit up as she met the other woman’s gaze. ‘You can trust me to take care of everything,’ she said. ‘I owe you that much. I won’t hurt you. I promise.’ For reasons beyond her comprehension Connie’s thumb slipped into her mouth. She may not even have been aware of it; only the soothing sensation that followed when something was inside her mouth. If such a thing were unusual Emily said nothing about it. Instead she guided her roommate to her feet and held her hand as they stepped into the bathroom. Dutifully Emily lowered into a squat and unbuttoned Connie’s jeans. She slipped her fingers into the band of her underwear and slipped both garments to the ground. She then prompted Connie to step out of the leg holes, one after the other. Though still wearing a tee shirt, Connie had never been so naked. She winced knowing that Emily was the first to see her this way - not even boyfriends had seen her body entirely - but remained calm under the clinical gaze. Nothing, however, could prepare her for the cold shock of a wipe running between her thighs. Connie whimpered. Her knees buckled, but Emily’s firm hand kept her straight. ‘Everything’s alright, princess.’ ‘Princess,’ Connie echoed. At any other time it would sound condescending. Why not then? A sudden rush coursed through her body as the wipe ran between her lips. It was an area once exclusive to Connie’s touch. She pulled her arms closer across her chest. Her mouth sucked more intensely on her thumb. Emily hummed a bright, bubbly tune. ‘There we go, sweetheart. All clean!’ Finally, Connie thought. Emily paused. Her smile tightened. ‘We just need one more thing...’ New pants were exactly what Connie needed, but when Emily reached for the side counter she found her roommate had something else in mind. From the lower cupboard designated for Emily’s use she removed a flat, plastic piece of padding. Emily’s jaw tightened as she brought herself upright. ‘The effects of the tape last for about twelve hours,’ she said. ‘You’re going to need one of these.’ Unless her eyes deceived her Emily was offering Connie an adult sized diaper. More than it was an incontinence aid it was also strewn with pink shapes, decorated in the same way that it would be for a child. Connie frowned. ‘Why do you have this?’ The answer should have been obvious, but still evaded her. Emily retreated into her shoulders and fixed her eyes shut. Rolling up her shirt seemed to cause her pain, as did pressing down the hem of her skirt to reveal an identical garment taped up underneath. ‘You wear these,’ Connie said. Emily nodded, but dared not look. ‘Why?’ ‘Because I’m a big, pervy weirdo that likes to be a baby sometimes,’ she said, ‘and the tape you listened to helps me regress into little space. I don’t use my pacifier when you’re around, but you never notice when I’m wearing, so…’ Connie blinked. ‘Wearing?’ ‘Wearing diapers,’ Emily groaned. ‘I have been for nearly the whole time we’ve been rooming together.’ ‘But you said they were rela… re-lack-say-’ ‘Relaxation tapes, yeah,’ Emily said. ‘Being a baby is relaxing for me. I didn’t think you’d ever sneak through my drawers and use them!’ Connie shook her head. This was a lot of new information; more than she knew how to handle in such a short amount of time. Confusion swirled between her ears. Her tummy ached. It didn’t feel good. Soon it was too much, and came spilling out in tears and sobs. Emily leaned into her and hushed her, just like a mother would. ‘It’s okay, little one. I told you we’d get through this, remember?’ There was no reason for Connie to place that level of trust in her roommate - the two were relative strangers - and yet her scepticism remained absent, perhaps overtaken by the immense need for comfort. Was it a product of the tapes? It had to be, she thought; she needed as a child might need, and filled her arms with a figure to protect her. Emily lead her back to the main room. ‘Come lay on my bed.’ She did as she was told, allowing herself to be all the more vulnerable. Connie’s shame grew when her legs fell open. She’d revealed more of her body in the last few minutes than she had to anyone. The cool air tickled, and she shuddered. Guiding the girl’s backside up Emily slipped a towel beneath her. She beamed and hushed Connie with a finger to her mouth. ‘I’m not going to do anything untoward,’ she said. ‘You’re perfectly safe, and this is perfectly chaste.’ Connie groaned. Strange that she was both disappointed and relieved with the prospect. Reaching into a drawer Emily produced a pacifier, one whose plastic nipple was larger than any the vulnerable woman had ever seen before. She offered it to Connie who accepted it happily. It was even better than her thumb, and the relief that came with it! All her tension poured into sucking the plastic object. Emily wasn’t done, however. She reached over Connie’s head and to the far corner. From there she fished a stuffed rabbit; one which Connie had mistaken for ornamental, but now realized was so much more. It should have seemed silly to draw comfort from an old toy, but the moment Connie touched its fur she was filled with the love that was poured into it, night after night. She clutched the plaything and exhaled. ‘I see you and Whiskers are making fast friends,’ Emily teased. Connie held tighter, and buried her face in the rabbit’s fur. ‘Are you feeling happy, little one?’ Connie nodded. The butterflies eased some. How could something so weird be okay? Perhaps, she thought, it was the lilt in Emily’s voice, like magic. ‘Good girl.’ She giggled in spite of herself. She hadn’t been a ‘good girl’ since she was a child, but then again that’s what she’d become; or a psychological facsimile of one. So many people spent their lives reclaiming a lost childhood. Why shouldn’t Connie enjoy the experience while it lasted? Her embarrassment returned with the sound of crinkling and the realization of what was about to happen. Twelve hours, Emily said; twelve hours until she could return to adulthood and control of her bladder. What part constituted ‘relaxation’ was anybody’s guess, but for the sake of her sheets and what semblance of remaining dignity she could muster Connie would see it through to the end. Obediently and with minimal complaint she lifted her behind for Connie to slide the garment beneath her. She clung tighter to Whiskers as the rain of powder tickled between her legs. The heavy scent caused a tiny sneeze to escape her. ‘Bless you,’ Emily sang. She was going to make a great mom someday. Connie winced with the tearing sound and planted herself ever deeper into Whiskers’ fur. She lay still as the soft lining closed over her mound and Emily fastened the plastic flaps around her hips. They were firm against her body, but as Connie sat up she couldn’t help but notice how loose it was underneath. When she was upright it was with a quiet puff and a cloud of powder. Emily knelt and perched her chin on Connie’s knees. ‘How do you feel?’ She mumbled around the pacifier. ‘I feel…’ Words half formed on her tongue. Most failed after the first syllable. ‘Feels like my pants are going to fall off…’ Her roommate smiled. ‘Don’t worry. Diapers are supposed to feel that way. They need room to, erm, how do you say, expand.’ The stark reality drove deeper. First Connie had wet the bed, next she was wearing a diaper, and soon she would likely use it for its intended purpose, all because of a silly tape! Her hands trembled and her cheeks burned. Tears rolled down her already swollen features and ran under her chin. Emily pulled her into another embrace. Her fingers swirled in circles around her back, keeping her in one piece. All the while she hummed sweet assurances. ‘There, there, little one. You’ve got nothing to be afraid of. This is going to be our little secret, okay? I promise to look after you until this is all over, and then everything goes back to normal.’ ‘But- but I have so many things to do,’ Connie said. The very thought of her workload prompted a fresh round of tears. Her schedule was heavy enough for adult shoulders, let alone in her current state. She sobbed until the lump in her throat was full and hard. Emily climbed into the bed and pulled her reluctant charge back into her arms. Connie clung to Whiskers so that he sat between them. The blankets were drawn over them, and a safe cocoon took shape. ‘You don’t have to think about that now,’ Emily sang. ‘Just think about how good it feels right now, to be in my arms, safe and cared for.’ Her eyes closed, and for the first time since waking Connie’s troubles floated away, carried by the breeze. Her limbs collapsed against the force of gravity until her body was a lump held by her roommate. She breathed the warm scent of Emily’s flesh and the lingering apple shampoo she used. It was a moment of perfect peace, suddenly interrupted by heat between her legs. A small sound trickled to her ears as liquid expanded underneath her, curling up her behind. Connie stirred, but was quickly soothed by Emily’s melodious voice. ‘Just let it happen, little one. Everything’s alright. That’s what it’s there for. Just relax and stay here in my arms, okay?’ The world had gone topsy turvy, and yet Connie could not refuse such an offer. Emily’s breasts were warm and full of life. Her gentle heart beat set the rhythm for Connie’s breathing, until soon she closed her eyes and nothing else existed. Emily kissed her brow. ‘Goodnight, princess.’
  25. Repost. One of my older stories. I wrote this before I wrote Bad Seed. It was originally posted back in 2013. ? Yikes. Where does the time go? Well, hopefully in all the time that's passed, my writing has improved. TRICKY TREATS by Cute Kitten Kaoru squirmed in her carseat, stretching her cramped muscles with what little wiggle room the dip of the seat and the harness restraint allowed. She pressed against the thick pink cushions of the over sized infant carrier, her diaper crinkling. As much as she loved her carseat, she'd been in it for hours. Her mate, Danny, had decided to drive straight through, stopping only for gas, to feed or change her, or for the occasional piss at the side of the road. She had slept most of the way up north through the night. Mate was a funny word, but given what Danny was, it was suitable. It was the correct term, according to him. Kaoru just called him her boyfriend, but their relationship was deeper than that, more like soul mates from a fairly tale. The term married couple could have applied to them, but that didn't really fit right, either. Mate sounded just as funny to her as boyfriend or husband did to Daniel. Mate was a strange word, but then Danny's true nature aside, they were a strange couple, she supposed. She enjoyed playing baby. It helped her cope with her past and her insecurities. As for Daniel, well, he was not human at all. An oversized infant carrier was just as strange and unbelievable as Danny's true nature was. It had been a gift sent from Auntie Hester, who over the phone had told them in jest that making a car seat that size was as easy as bippity boppity boo. Karou settled back down, staring out the window at the crisp colors of autumn leaves in the early morning sun. Her gaze shifted from the trees to her reflection. Staring back at her was what looked to be a petite preteen girl, half white and half Japanese, or Halfu as she'd been called back in her home country- half Japanese and half gaijin, dressed in a pink, oversized infant sleeper with attached mittens and booties and evident bulge of a ridiculously thick diaper. The sleeper had Disney Princess print. The pink and purple pacifier she sucked on and the Cinderella bib around her neck completed the ensemble. She scrunched her pert little nose up at her reflection. She didn't like how her eyes looked without her usual gyaru style makeup that made her eyes look poppingly big, almost like a Shojo anime character or a doll. Danny assured her she looked beyond adorable either way. The no makeup rule when playing baby was the only part of it she didn't like. Without makeup, she looked even younger than the preteen or young teen she was usually mistaken for. Over here in America, people always thought she was around fourteen or fifteen with makeup and ten or twelve without it. Her actual age was eighteen. She wondered if she ever got the chance to go back to her home country what age people would assume she was. Her actual gender was more tricky. She had been born a male, and had physically been a male for few years of her life. As a toddler, she had been drawn to girly things and had always felt like a girl inside, even when her mom and maternal grandparents insisted she was a boy. That came to a head when her mother's yakuza thug of a boyfriend, after a drinking binge one day, snatched Kaoru by her hair, sliced her dress off with a knife, slicing into her skin in the process, then began to butcher- The memory suddenly vanished, blanking from her mind as if sucked up by a vacuum cleaner. Kaoru gasped, almond eyes wide and pacifier tumbling from her lips. Her pulse sped and she grabbed onto Miss Mopsy, hugging her beloved plush bunny tight. "Pumpkin, you okay?" Kaoru looked up into a pair of concerned blue eyes visible in the rearview mirror as Danny checked on her from the driver's seat. She forced a weak smile that he didn't buy. "J-just a-a bad memory but it....feels more like a bad day dream. It disappeared in the middle-" She trailed off into a low mumble but he could still hear her heavily accented English. Her face showed her confusion. That memory was real, had happened, but it was already gone from her mind, wiped away like the early morning mists. Remnants lingered like ghosts, but even they were fading. Danny's eyes softened with a touch of sadness, sorry that his baby girl's past still hurt her. "Auntie Hester said the effects of the potion she sent will increase with each dose. It will take some time, but soon you'll forget those memories forever." Hester was a very good friend of Daniel's; they considered each other siblings even though they were not related by blood at all. Or marriage. Neither was Hester Kaoru's aunt or any relation at all, but she insisted Kaoru call her Auntie, and Karou seemed to enjoy it as well. Kaoru's smile grew slightly more steady. There were things in her past she did not want to remember. Therapy and medication hadn't helped her cope much, and the scars on her body were reminder enough. Danny's sister had sent Kaoru a special potion she'd brewed, and dose by dose it was gradually erasing the painful things Kaoru dearly wished to forget, misting over the scars of her heart and mind.
×
×
  • Create New...