Search the Community

Hi guys Maddie is a young girl who likes to lead a quiet life without showing off, and she's a victim of bullying. One day, while at a party, someone spills a drink on Maddie, but it seems she wet her pants. In the bathroom, she finds the bully... I'll be Maddie, and whoever wants to be the bully is welcome to play un-potty training, punishment, and humiliation. We can talk and adjust anything. See you later.

Hi guys, this is my first Story, I'm quite excited and I hope you like it. Important note: my native language is not English. I welcome any feedback, feel free to comment. The synopsis is this: Ashley, a little girl, runs down the street wearing a white shirt and blue leggings, her blonde hair blowing in the wind. She sees a stuffed animal in the street and, thinking it belongs to a child, decides to pick it up. Upon picking up the bear, Ashley is transported to a different place... a backroom. A classic ABDL story with elements of psychological horror; the story includes diaper punishment, forced use, and u potty training. .... Chapter 01 "That's the third time this week," Ashley muttered under her breath, adjusting the strap of her gym bag as she jogged past the same crooked stop sign. The morning air was crisp, the kind that made her lungs feel freshly scrubbed, and her blue leggings clung comfortably as she picked up speed. She wasn’t usually one for routines, but this stretch of sidewalk had become hers—past Mrs. Henderson’s rose bushes, around the corner where the old maple tree dropped helicopter seeds, and straight through the intersection where the crosswalk paint was always fading. She almost missed it. A flash of matted brown fur against the asphalt, half-hidden under a crumpled fast-food bag. Ashley skidded to a stop, kicking up a pebble that clattered into the gutter. The stuffed bear lay on its side, one button eye dangling by a thread, the other staring blankly at the sky. Something about its lopsided grin made her stomach twist. Ashley's fingers brushed against the bear's matted fur, and the scent hit her first—talcum powder, thick and cloying, like the inside of a nursery from some half-remembered childhood. For a split second, the familiarity of it made her smile. Then the sidewalk lurched beneath her feet. The world tilted sideways, colors bleeding into streaks of yellow and beige, and the last thing she heard was the distant, tinny sound of a lullaby playing on a loop. She came to with her cheek pressed against something damp. Not pavement—carpet. Ugly, industrial-grade carpet, the kind that smelled like mildew and disappointment. Ashley pushed herself up onto her elbows, blinking against the flickering fluorescence overhead. The room stretched in every direction, walls lined with water stains, the same sickly yellow repeating into infinity. A door stood a few feet away, identical to the one behind her, both slightly ajar, both leading to more of the same. The hum of the lights was the only sound, a relentless buzz that made her teeth ache. The flickering fluorescents pulsed in time with the lullaby, a sickening syncopation that made Ashley's skin crawl. She pressed a hand to her chest—her heartbeat was keeping perfect time with the melody, fast and frantic like a trapped bird. The realization sent a fresh wave of nausea through her. This wasn't just background noise. It was inside her now, humming along her veins. She staggered forward, legs unsteady, past door after identical door, each slightly ajar, each revealing the same endless stretch of yellowed wallpaper and water-stained ceiling. The air grew thicker with every step, the scent of baby powder intensifying until it coated her tongue. By the time she reached the seventh door, the smell was overwhelming—warm milk, plastic toys left in the sun, the unmistakable tang of a freshly changed diaper. Her stomach lurched. Ashley’s fingers trembled as she pushed the door open wider, hinges squeaking like a neglected crib toy. The moment she stepped through, the door vanished—not slammed shut, not dissolved, but erased like it had never existed at all. Darkness swallowed her whole, thick and suffocating, the kind that pressed against her eyelids like damp cotton. Then, all at once, a single overhead light flickered on with a sound like a spoon tapping a glass bottle. A figure stood inches from her face. Ashley jerked back, but there was no space—just the sudden, claustrophobic awareness of another body breathing the same air. The woman (was it a woman?) wore a nurse’s uniform straight out of a 1950s hospital, starch-stiff and bleached white, her face obscured by a surgical mask. Only her eyes were visible, dark and unblinking, like buttons sewn onto cloth. "Lost little thing," the nurse murmured, voice syrup-sweet. Her gloved hand reached out, brushing Ashley’s cheek with a touch that smelled like antiseptic and powdered milk. The nurse’s fingers lingered against Ashley’s cheek, cold through the latex gloves, but there was an odd tenderness in the pressure—the way a mother might cup a child’s face after a nightmare. Ashley’s pulse thudded in her throat, but the woman’s dark, unblinking eyes held no malice. Only a quiet, unsettling focus. "Who are you?" Ashley managed to croak, her voice smaller than she intended. "What do you want?" The nurse tilted her head, mask crinkling with what might have been a smile. "Someone to take care of you, little one," she murmured, and her voice was like warm honey, thick and slow. "You’ve been wandering for so long. Aren’t you tired?" Ashley’s knees wobbled at the question, as if the words had physical weight. She hadn’t noticed before, but exhaustion clung to her like a second skin, her muscles leaden. The nurse’s gloved hand slid down to her shoulder, guiding her forward with gentle insistence. "I’m not tired," Ashley lied, the protest automatic, but her voice cracked halfway through. The room—no, not a room anymore, just a space—stretched endlessly, walls warping like wet paper. She spun around, searching for the door she’d just stepped through, but there was only smooth yellow wallpaper, seamless and unbroken. Her breath hitched. "Where—?" The nurse's fingers tightened imperceptibly on Ashley's shoulder, her thumb tracing a slow circle over the fabric of Ashley's white top. "Hush now," she murmured, her voice like melted sugar. "Names are such heavy things here. Better to let them go." The fluorescent lights buzzed louder overhead, flickering in time with Ashley's quickened breaths. She tried to step back, but her legs wouldn't obey—they felt strange, weightless, as if her knees had forgotten how to lock.

Looking to do a plot where Chara the first fallen human gets taken in by the dreamer family and gets treated like their baby it can be a slow process or just straight off the bat it’s really depends Chara is a girl in this) Chara falls down further into Mount Ebott after tripping and falling into a hole, descending deeper as she sees a bed of golden flowers. It goes dark as she hits the patch of flowers. When she wakes up, her vision is blurry, but she can make out the silhouette of a white fluffy creature above her.

Hi guys, I'm looking for a caregiver; the caregiver has to be willing to deal with a girl who doesn't like wearing diapers and is quite a brat. My Kinks: Abdl, diaper, pull-up, humiliation, punishment, forced diapering, pacifier, straitjacket, forced diaper use, regression, un-potty training, diaper punishment , bed wetting, Amazon, diaper dimension Turn-Offs: Abuse, gore, Snuff, If during an RP I feel at all uncomfortable or unsure of something I shall let you know immediately and we'll either divert or end it there, blood If you liked it, feel free to send me a message; and I'm open to any changes, I'm eager to read them.

Sooo, I was sort of convinced I had a bladder of the iron-clad type, but apparently, in my case unconscious bedwetting is a lot easier to achieve than I expected - too easy for my own good in fact... We've had a lot of posts here about some people getting diaper-dependent at night after just a couple of weeks, and others taking years to get back to truly wetting in their sleep in some cases. Due to my decent daytime control (I mean, I can easily hold it till it gets so uncomfortable that I feel like my bladder will burst, still without risking loosing control and peeing myself every moment; and if I do hold it in for this long I can pretty much soak a Tena Maxi in one go, which suggests over a liter in bladder capacity at the very least) I reasonably considered myself to be in the latter category. So after recently introducing myself as a member of the community, I thought recounting the true story of how I was disabused of this notion would make for a good first post ------------------------------------- In a period of reliable and comparatively easy access to cheap diapers (only Tena Slip, but better than nothing, and they fit me really well) last year in July, I decided to take the plunge and try diapers to bed every day for a month to see what that would be like in the worst summer heat - just to gage whether that'd be something I'd consider on a more permanent basis in the future. I don't plan on going 24/7 any time soon at the moment, but regular nighttime wearing might be nice. So I devised a way to sneak heavy trash bags full of wet diapers out of the house to the trash can without the rest of my family noticing, and gave it a shot - I really liked it! Of course I was just wetting purposely whenever I had to go, but even still, there was something magical to the ritual of putting on a diaper before going to sleep, and taking off the wet one in the morning. It definitely helped me relax and take the edge off the day, not to mention not having to get up to pee. I genuinely felt like I was getting better sleep too (I say that now, years ago, when I first tried diapers, I could barely fall asleep with a diaper on, lol). So far, nothing remarkable, I really enjoyed it, but stopped again after a month because I normally only wear twice a week, and going through one diaper every day makes cost add up quite quickly. Plus, buying them meant getting up way before anyone else in the house to sneak out unnoticed, which is kinda painful to do as a night owl, so having to do it every five weeks kind of negated the improved sleep. Anyway, with this enjoyable experience in mind, when in November I was going through a phase of feeling completely overwhelmed by life in general, the idea of another month of night time diapers to give my brain some time out was too appealing to resist. So I dove right back into my previous ritual! I would put on a diaper when going to bed, then pee in it whatever little of my evening tea made it's way to my bladder while reading diaper stories - perfect way to conclude a stressful day! I even got a lot better at casually peeing laying on my back. Whenever I woke up in the night with the urge to pee, I remembered "right, I'm wearing a diaper", and made sure to relax slowly so as not to flood the Tena to the point of leaking. I think you get an idea of where this is going XD When December, and with it the end of this second nighttime diaper month rolled around, I had really come to enjoy the comfort diapers overnight offered, and thought: "actually, why stop here? I might as well go at least another month and see if I could keep this up long term!". I had stocked enough diapers and was getting a hang of my routines for acquiring new ones as well as sneaking out the trash. It was great! But I'm sure you know what happened next - some time into this second consecutive month, sometimes when I woke up in the morning to pee I couldn't shake the feeling that my diaper was somehow slightly wetter than I'd made it before falling asleep in the evening. But I shrugged it off, thinking I must've partially woken up and peed as usual, but just didn't remember it. Then, one morning I woke up early by my diaper leaking. And I couldn't remember at all when I had peed in it so much. I knew it. This was a warning shot. My control might actually slip if I continued this for much longer! Now thinking about it, this wouldn't come as much of a surprise seeing how bedwetting seems to have riddled some in my family to an extent that almost suggests a hereditary streak. I myself used to wake up with a wet patch on the front of my pajamas about once a week from age 7 to 14, if memory serves. I never soaked the entire bed, which is why I assume I was able to hide most of it from my parents, but a decently sized wet patch nonetheless. One of my sisters on the other hand solidly wet the bed from about age 6 well into her teens. She only dried up when she got her period a few years ago. And finally now my mom in her fifties, bedridden due to a medical condition, is (maybe unsurprisingly) having continence issues as well. So with that in mind, it probably wasn't a surprise that my strong control and large bladder was just a superficial fix I "learned" in response to my own control issues as a kid. But back to entirely my self-inflicted dilemma. I decided I would finish this second month of diapers overnight regardless, just because I'm not one to do things half-assed. If I remember correctly, the rest of December went by without any further incidents. The came January, time to wean myself of this soothing but dangerous habit. At this point I didn't entirely trust myself not to wet the bed if I stopped wearing literally overnight (pun intended), but I also didn't feel like stopping to wear diapers, so I settled on wearing each of them for two nights in a row. In the first night I would not wet at all and just have them held up by my underpants so I wouldn't wear out the tapes, the second night I would tape them on but only wet them very deliberately in the morning before disposal. For a few days that went just fine. Until... One evening I was taping the diaper on for its second night, when I was sort of puzzled by how unusually cold it felt. It actually took me way too long to figure out what was wrong: It was wet. I had unconsciously wet the diaper in my sleep during its first night, and hadn't even noticed when I hastily pulled it off to hide it under my sheets in the morning. Granted, it was only very little wet, but definitely squishy if you cared to pinch the padding. That realization hit home hard. This was not going the way I had planned. It was a weird feeling, knowing without a doubt that my earlier leak was in fact a real wetting; having all my hopes of it maybe just having been a fluke and a failure to remember going, dashed. So for the next few days I was kind of wary, meticulously checking each diaper for signs of even the slightest wetness when I got up. I didn't have to wait long - just a few days later I woke up to find the fresh diaper I'd put on the night before squishy. And it wasn't just a little wet from a few spurts, I had soaked about a third of the padding! It fully classified as a wet diaper, and I had no recollection of waking up to pee, plus I wouldn't have purposely wet this diaper on its first day yet anyway, seeing as it wasn't actually taped on and could've leaked. The feelings this invoked were complicated. On one hand, the fact that this happened all on its own without my consent was sort of scary, and turning into a regular bedwetter was the last thing I'd need on my plate at this point in my life where I'm unfortunately still living under one roof with the rest of my family, and can barely do a thing without it being observed and scrutinized, or at the very least object of curious questions. On the other hand, it felt weirdly right to wake up with all the toilet business taken care of already - it just felt sort of natural. Maybe it's just the naughtiness of not having to wake and get up to go the toilet like everybody else, but I admit I liked the idea of waking like this every day, despite it being the last thing I needed at the moment. I went to bed that night, half dreading, half curious if it would happen again. The next morning I woke up to a wet diaper. I was starting to get concerned that I had gone a step too far already, and that this would become a regular occurrence from now on. It had definitely been a sensible decision to not stop wearing diapers holus-bolus. I would've had several difficult-to-conceal sets of wet sheets by this point. Fortunately, I seemed to be out of the woods, as I didn't have any other accidents from there on, and I was able to stop wearing diapers overnight again around mid-January. This was right on cue too, since my dad moved out just after, as part of the ongoing divorce of my parents, and we all changed our day-to-day routine by getting up earlier in the morning which unfortunately eliminated the time frame where I could sneak out to buy diapers unnoticed. As I mentioned, all this happened between last year and this January, so I've now been back to a dry bed, and getting up to pee in the toilet like a normal boring adult almost (!) incident-free for 9 months. I'll get to why I say "almost" in a bit, but suffice to say, I haven't dared repeat this experiment yet, and don't intend to do so for the foreseeable future. I definitely have the feeling it left some lasting impacts on my potty training. For one, I seem to have to pee more frequently than I used to, though I cannot say that for sure as it might also reflect recent healthier hydration habits. But I do go pee more often now, as the urge is more present and gets uncomfortable quicker. I also feel like I wake up having to pee more often since, though this is once again very subjective and hard to quantify. However what I do know, is that when I go back to wearing diapers at night it will very likely be a one way road. Just the other night I wore a diaper, only one, for a single night, for fun like I've been doing for years, and the day after I woke up to find my pajama completely damp in the groin. I obviously again wet in my sleep, and pretty early on in the night too at that, judging by how well the wetness had spread already. So if a single diaper can trigger it, I'd better be watching my steps. I think I would really enjoy waking up in wet diapers in the long run - it's a "privilege" many of us DLs don't get to experience for a long time despite rigorous diaper training, but under the current circumstances I unfortunately really can't indulge in it. If I were to wet more than a simple Tena Slip could hold, I'd have to order in bigger diapers, and aside from being quite expensive, huge boxes like that being delivered every few months just to mysteriously disappear, would not go unnoticed by my cohabitants ;D Plus, I'll probably have to undergo a surgery "down there" sooner or later, so having to seal a healing incision against a flood of pee every night just unnecessarily complicates things. I also don't feel like telling anyone at the hospital about this embarrassing condition (lest someone might actually try and talk me into getting a cure, or even ask how it came to be, lol) So yeah, this is the story of how I inadvertently almost un-potty trained myself during nighttime because I didn't expect my level of control to only be so perfunctory. Ultimately we'll never know how many times I actually ended up unconsciously wetting, because I always wet my diaper before falling asleep, and considering my bedwetting history, never used to wet much when it happened back in the day either. I also hope I got all of the timelines more or less correct as I'm merely jotting this down from memory such a long time later. But I hope you enjoyed the read

I'm 19 and still living with my mom I have cloth reusable diapers and plastic pants as well as regular disposable diapers I mainly use my cloth ones considering the cost of regular diapers. Though it's annoying not having a washer and dryer so I wash them by hand, but I want to be unpotty trained I don't know how I should go about it. I wouldn't mind if anyone also had tips for cloth diaper wearing.

I have always wanted to become double incontinent but mainly bladder and I am trying to decide if I am going to get help from my urologist (I had a string of UTIs he just helping with the most recent after I used a catheter) in order to get surgery or should I train myself because I been wearing a lot since I moved out last year. Money isn’t a problem after my grandads inheritance. The reason I’m skeptical for training is I have quite a steel bladder that holds a lot for along time. Another thing I already have is a psychiatrist I’ve had for 10 years or so. So which should I pick? (Don’t bother trying to dissuade me)

Hi friends. Whelp the spiral continues. At this point I feel like my bladder control is in free fall. To recap I've been actively untraining for 4+ years, but the last month or so has been something else. Anyways,with this most recent spiral, I've noticed that my pelvic floor muscles have become weakened. It's kind of a difficult sensation to describe. It's like the muscles are relaxed, and then some. It's weird because sometimes it feels psychological. Like I'm just imagining they're weak. But then again it seems like work to get them to tense up. It's just easier to keep the muscles relaxed. Also I feel like I have no choice but to trust my diaper to keep me dry. I mean, that's it's job right? But this is... different. It feels like there's no "backup system" to keep me dry anymore. The diaper is basically the only thing between me and wet clothes. I'm still trying to make sense of it all. It's just that it's so subtle and so profound. Side note. I am positive it's not something medical going on. I have no other weakness. I have no numbness nor loss of sensation. No real change in bowel continence. I have a primary doc and if I sense anything wrong, I'll be the first to seek help.

Hi ! Remember me ? I'm the French guy who wrote in pale blue last September about starting an un-potty training route towards permanent bedwetting. After encouraging results mastering the relaxation of my sphincter (almost to the point of possible accidents in daytime), I had to quit for a while, due to