Subliminal Baby Part 1

This story is written by Elfy

“But mum, everyone is going on this trip.” Steven whined. He stomped his foot on the floor like a child much younger than himself, at 18-years-old he was a little too old to be having a tantrum but he couldn’t help himself. He was sick and tired of being told no when his older brother, Ritchie, was always told yes.

“Steven, a skiing trip sounds very dangerous. I don’t think it would be a good idea for you.” Karen, Steven and Ritchie’s mother was sitting with her children at the dinner table. The three of them had just finished eating and Steven was telling her how much he wanted to go on this school trip, it had been the same every evening for the last week.

“Mum, I’m not a baby!” Steven said throwing up his arms in frustration, “All my friends are going. I’m the only one who hasn’t handed in the permission slip.”

“If you aren’t a baby then maybe you should stop acting like one.” Karen shot back.

Ritchie, who had otherwise been sitting quietly, let out a bark of a laugh. He knew that his mum was overprotective of Steven and he found his little brother’s frustrations very amusing to watch. Ritchie was everything that Steven wasn’t. Steven was small and unassuming, Ritchie was bigger and had much more sporting ability which made him very popular around town. Steven, on the other hand, was much more at home alone in his room working on his computer.

“Shut up, Ritchie!” Steven yelled across the table.

“Steven! Don’t shout at your brother.” Karen said warningly.

“Tell him not to laugh at me then.” Steven said banging his hands against the table and causing the cutlery to rattle.

“If you are going to keep having a tantrum like a baby, I’ll give you a spanking just like one.” Karen warned.

Steven was dumbfounded at the injustice. Ritchie was trying to keep a straight face but his shoulders moving up and down betrayed how funny he found the situation. When Steven saw this he felt his anger rising again.

When Karen looked away for a moment, Ritchie mouth the word “baby” at Steven. Steven lost control of his emotions, he reached back and went to swing at his older brother but as he tried to bring his arm forward he felt someone grab him tightly. Caught off-balance he was pulled around the table and into the lap of his mother.

To Steven’s shock and horror, his mother easily held him in place with one hand whilst with the other she started spanking hard. Ritchie stared across the table wide-eyed and open mouthed as his younger brother was spanked at the dinner table, he could barely contain the laughter that he felt bubbling up inside.

Steven willed himself not to cry as his mother rained down blow after blow on her son. He was in shock as much as anything else, the spanking wasn’t too hard and it didn’t hurt a lot but the surprise of suddenly finding himself in this position stopped him from trying to stop what was happening before it was too late and his mother had gained a firm grip of him.

“You do not hit your brother!” Karen said through gritted teeth, each word was punctuated by another smack. She didn’t seem to see the irony in punishing her son with spanking as a way to tell him not to hit others.

Through eyes clouded with tears, Steven caught the eyes of his brother and could see the amusement in his face at the predicament Steven found himself in. Steven balled his hands into fists as he fought to keep himself from crying openly. The spanking wasn’t particularly painful but it was very embarrassing, especially when he was trying to argue that he wasn’t a baby.

Just as Steven felt his composure slipping the spanking ended and he gingerly picked himself up. Without a word he turned and headed away from the kitchen, he was upset and filled with anger at the injustice of being punished when his brother got away completely free. He didn’t want to stay in the dining room with his family because he was sure he would do or say something to get him in even more trouble.

He stomped straight out of the room and to the stairs. Halfway up he paused when he heard a sound from the kitchen. He heard his brother laughing.

He had half a mind to run back down stairs and go for him again but he just about controlled his emotions and instead would look for a subtler way for revenge. With tears in his eyes he and a face red from the humiliation of the scene in the dining room Steven stamped up to his room and slammed the door closed.

Steven’s room was dominated by the large computer against the far wall. Steven had always been very interested in technology and was very well versed in both software and hardware, he spent most of his time fiddling with his computer in one way or another and was known at school as being rather nerdy. To the sides of the computer were shelves full of books and magazines, most of them technology related but also some fiction books as well.

Steven walked over to his bed and gingerly sat down. His stinging rear end caused him to wince slightly as he reached to his bedside table and grabbed a can of coke which he opened and drank from. Steven was generally quite healthy but his one vice was coke, he couldn’t resist the sugary drinks.

Placing the half-empty can back down he picked up the computing magazine that he had been reading before going down for dinner and he started reading again. It provided a good distraction from all the problems he was dealing with and he felt himself slowly relaxing as he read about various graphics cards and processors.

As Steven read through the magazine he came across an unusual advert on the back cover. It was an advert for something called “Covert Subliminal Software.” Steven read the page with interest, he assumed it was a scam but something about the advert kept attracting his attention. He started to form an idea in his head, about using the software on his brother, what better way for revenge than making a message that forced Ritchie to do something embarrassing? Only a little thing though, he wasn’t cruel, he just wanted to teach Ritchie a lesson.

Steven was broken from his ponderings by a knock on the door. He walked over and swung the door open to reveal Ritchie, he stood several inches taller than Steven and had a very self-satisfied smirk on his face.

“What do you want?” Steven asked coldly.

“I was just wondering if you needed tucking in tonight? Maybe have someone feed you a bottle?” Ritchie said in a mocking voice, he could barely stop himself from cracking up.

“Get lost!” Steven growled through gritted teeth as he slammed the door.

“Don’t throw a tantrum, baby!” Ritchie called through the door before laughing to himself on the way to his bedroom.

“We’ll see who is a baby…” Steven whispered to himself.

He walked over to his computer, went online and visited the website for “Covert Subliminal Software.” After hesitating for just a second he clicked “buy now” and was told the software was on its way. Steven smiled evilly to himself as he came up with the perfect plan for revenge, as soon as the package arrived he would show his family who the baby was.

For a few days afterwards nothing of note happened. Steven kept mostly to himself as usual and made sure to wake up early enough to be the first to check the post every single day in the hope of seeing his package. Time did not diminish his want for revenge, if anything his need to get back at his brother only increased as his brother kept making thinly veiled comments, Steven simply kept his cool and waited.

It was five days later when Steven looked through the mail as it was pushed through the letterbox and found the package he had been waiting for. It was instantly recognisable and Steven was glad to have got to the package first otherwise awkward questions may have come his way, the picture on the box showing a person in a chair and someone swinging a watch in front of them certainly would have caught the eye of Steven’s family.

Steven had done a lot of research on the power of suggestion in the last few days. He knew the stereotypical picture of someone swinging a pocket watch and saying “you are feeling sleepy” was not how this stuff worked.

Steven rushed back to his room with his parcel and ripped it open as soon as the door closed. Taking a drink of his cola he quickly read the pages of the instruction booklet and found that setting up these secret messages would actually be surprisingly simple.

The instruction manual said to keep the messages short and easy to understand, shorter phrases resonate in the brain much easier and would be planted a lot quicker. Steven was still quite sceptical of the whole idea of subliminal messaging but the software was surprisingly cheap and it was worth the risk of investment because if it did work it would be the best revenge he could possibly get.

Steven waited, he did some brief setup of the software on his own computer, it was surprisingly easy to set up and Steven suspected that even if he knew nothing about computers that he would be able to get it to work. He waited for his brother to leave, he waited for an opportunity to sneak into Ritchie’s room and set up the software. He was very impatient, he had a new toy to play with and having to wait before he could use it was almost intolerable.

Finally, a few hours later, Steven saw Ritchie walk past his door with his coat on and a bag slung over his shoulders. As Ritchie walked past he saw Steven watching him and Ritchie paused briefly to give his younger brother the middle finger.

“Going out?” Steven asked. He ignored the rude gesture and hurried over to the doorway as his brother walked away.

“Unlike you, I have a social life, so yes I am.” Ritchie replied.

Steven just nodded but as soon as Ritchie turned his back, Steven let out a devilish smile and ran back into his room to grab the USB stick that contained the subliminal software. Listening out for the sound of the front door closing he hopped from one foot to the other almost unable to contain his excitement.

As soon as Steven heard the door close he practically ran to his older brother’s bedroom and straight over to his computer. Ritchie’s computer was not as powerful as Steven’s but it was just good enough to run Ritchie’s favourite online game, a first person shooter that he spent a lot of his free time on.

Steven quickly logged in to the machine, he had guessed Ritchie’s password quite easily months ago, rather predictably it was his girlfriend’s name Linda.

Steven logged in and immediately booted up the new software. He looked through the menus and adjusted a few things to his specifications. He clicked on the box that said “Message:” and after a moment of thinking Steven typed in “You are very thirsty for cola.”

Steven chose an innocuous message at first, he wanted to test the software with something that wouldn’t cause any damage if it went wrong. Steven knew his more athletic brother never drank sugary drinks, but it was well known that Steven loved them. It would be a good test of the program’s power.

He pressed enter and moved the software into the correct folder so that when Ritchie played his game that message would be flashed at him at quick intervals. It would be so fast that Ritchie wouldn’t notice it, but it would leave an imprint in his brain.

Steven quickly turned the computer off, took his USB stick and retreated back to his bedroom. Now it was a case of waiting, he had to wait for Ritchie to come home and play his game. Steven, knowing it would be a while before that happened, loaded up his own game and began playing. Steven paused only to drink from his large cola supply as he passed the hours. He was impatient and hopped from one game to another, nothing could sustain his interest for long.

Eventually he heard the front door open and close before hearing loud footsteps coming up the stairs, past Steven’s bedroom and to Ritchie’s own bedroom.

Steven felt so excited, he was nervous as well as he sat in his room waiting to see what was going to happen. He wanted to run to Ritchie’s room and watch, to see if it was working, but he knew he had to act as normally as possible. If Steven started hanging around Ritchie’s room, then Ritchie would realise something was up.

It was a full two hours, just when Steven was preparing to give up on the software working when there was a sudden knock on his bedroom door. Steven’s heart skipped a beat as he walked over to the door.

“Yes?” Steven said as he opened the door to his brother. Ritchie had strangely wide eyes and he was salivating quite a bit.

“Yo, this is a bit weird but do you still have that big stash of cola in here?” Ritchie asked. He was not acting like he normally did, there definitely seemed to be something weird going on.

Steven was secretly elated. This was incredible! An act that was totally out of character for his big brother, an act that can only possibly have come from the suggestion of Steven’s subliminal software.

“Yeah.” Steven said as he fought to keep his internal smile from showing.

“Could I have some?” Ritchie asked. He smiled slightly but Steven got the impression that if he said no Ritchie would push his way in and take a drink anyway, he had a look in his eyes that suggested nothing would keep him away from the drink.

Steven leaned over to where his bottles of cola were and picked up one of the smaller ones. He handed it to Ritchie who quickly unscrewed the lid and started drinking deeply from the bottle.

Steven was shocked as he watched his brother, who didn’t like sugary drinks, drink the whole bottle in one go.

When Ritchie was done he lowered the bottle from his mouth and let out an incredibly loud belch. Ritchie looked strangely content, a little trickle of cola had spilled out the side of his mouth but otherwise he looked normal and happy. Steven was quite unnerved by what he saw.

“Boys! Dinner time.” Mother shouted from downstairs. It broke the awkward silence that was developing.

Steven took the initiative and handed another bottle of cola to his brother before they headed downstairs.

Dinner was quiet that evening. Steven spent a lot of his time watching Ritchie who took multiple liberal gulps of the cola. He had become like a fiend for the stuff, it was as if he couldn’t get enough.

“Cola? That’s not like you.” Karen said to her older son.

“I’m just really thirsty for it.” Ritchie said as he took another drink.

That night Steven took a little while to get to sleep, he was thinking about what to do next. The subliminal software clearly worked, Ritchie had taken yet another bottle of cola with him to bed. There was no answer as to why that was happening other than Ritchie was successfully being manipulated.

Steven decided that tomorrow he would change the message. The next day he would put his actual plan into action. It was time for revenge on his older brother, not to mention he didn’t want Ritchie drinking all of his cola!

This story is written by Elfy

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

Chapter 2

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Bedtime means Bedtime

Bedtime means Bedtime

The boys were told to go to bed 5 hours ago but it seems that video games were the plan for the night. Guess they were a little too loud and dad doesn’t pleased.

Furrys and above text belongs to island

Draw by DizziMorhlis

Source: https://inkbunny.net/s/1805776

I sure think this two boys regret there decision now to stay up and play video games. And i sure think there poor butts agree to that.

I sure hope they think twice next time they decide to not go to bed when daddy say it is time for that.

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Let it… flow (Nothing to do with Frozen)

This story is written by Les Lea

I was looking at some old photographs the other day and one of them was of my dad holding me outside our terraced (and somewhat dilapidated) old house.
The caption, obviously written by my father, read – 9 month old Popsi and me taking the morning air.
Apparently, my nickname as a baby was Popsi and, from the image at least, my sex indeterminate, which I suppose is OK for a baby, as it really doesn’t matter. As it was, I was dressed in a grey looking smock but my large white nappy was clearly visible resting on dad’s arm. I was giggling about something, and dad was smiling, so it must have been a fun occasion for all concerned but the thing was, I never remembered ever being called Popsi.

Now you may be wondering why I’m telling you about this. In fact, I have no idea why I’m sharing this little titbit of my life except as a reminder of the things you forget or aren’t aware of. I’m sure I was called Popsi (by my parents at least) for quite some time although as far as I know, I’ve never had a nickname at school or throughout my adult life.
So, although that early part of my life has been forgotten, there is one thing I do remember because in one way or another it continues to this day.
*
Like I remember, I must have been about six years old and having a bath on my own. I was enjoying playing with my little plastic boats and suddenly I needed a pee. Of course I was already in the bath so it seemed silly to get out and then pee in a different ‘bowl’ of water so I just relaxed and let it flow. I was completely transfixed by the small yellow plume that emerged from my little ‘pidge’ and found that it was something I ended up doing every time I had a bath. Quite simply it was fun and felt good to do.
The problem was, even though my potty training had lasted until I was four and I hadn’t wet the bed for over two years, I suddenly started again. These days I can see a link between the two incidents but at the time, well I was only a kid and it never occurred to me.

The warmth of the bath and the warmth of my bed both perhaps working on my brain to give me a similar feeling of relaxation; the two experiences were becoming one and the same.
However, the connection between the two wasn’t made because no one knew I peed in the bath, all mum saw was that one morning I woke up to a soaked bed. That was followed by further wet bedding and jammies so after a week of such accidents, mum said that I had to return to nappies until I was “over it”.
To say I wasn’t happy about this announcement was a bit of an understatement as I threw a tantrum and became very angry. The very idea of being returned to a ‘baby’ had me screaming the house down in protest, which didn’t help my case.

Now mum had never been a fan of disposables, I’m not sure if that was a result of worrying about the environment or because of the expense, either way, she never had them in the house. As babies we were always put in thick cloth nappies covered in a rather milky white pair of rubber or plastic pants. I have to say they seemed to do the job remarkably efficiently and mum never seemed bothered about colour or fashion.

She is also a no nonsense type of woman. She’s very loving but once her mind is set on a course of action nothing is going to change it. I think dad liked that spark in mum and that’s why he married her (also my oldest brother was on the way).

So, once she’d decided on what needed to be done to protect my bed and bedding, her damp little son was going to be well-wrapped at night whether I liked it or not and, as I said, I did not.
Besides, I had two older brothers and they would just take the piss (so to speak).
They did – as soon as they saw the plastic under-sheet being fastened over my mattress. I was now fair game being referred to as the ‘baby of the family’ and spoken to as if I was still a toddler. My brothers didn’t tire of ‘diddum’s this’ and ‘diddum’s that’ or be constantly checking my padded night time nappy and telling me it was time all babies should be in bed… at 6.30 or earlier.
Anyway, it wasn’t something you could talk to a six year old about so my parents just assumed I was being lazy, which may have been part of it, or that I’d probably grow out of my bed-wetting problem soon enough. In the meantime, nappies were the most obvious solution.
On that first night mum put me in them I was furious but had no option, both mum and dad said it was for my own good and that the sooner I stopped wetting the bed the sooner I could return to my normal PJs.

That initial night was hell, I couldn’t get used to them. They were hot, bulky, uncomfortable and sweaty, which made me squirm around in bed until they were so loose they ‘accidently’ wriggled off. This was a bad move on my part as in the morning my bed was soaked but not the nappy so it was obvious to mum that I hadn’t been wearing it. I got a couple of quick swats to my bare bottom for both lying to her about how it came off and for wetting once again.
The following night she pinned me in, added plastic pants over them and made sure I was under no illusions that if everything wasn’t exactly as she had left it (I.e. me in my protection) I’d be feeling more than the little ‘taps’ I’d received as punishment earlier. She had also made it very clear that I wasn’t to take it off, only she and dad were allowed to do that, so I was to stay in my nappy until told otherwise.

It was still a damned uncomfortable night but I dare not wriggle free of them this time. My crinkly plastic pants and under-sheet adding to my awkwardness but in the end sleep did visit and so did the pee fairy because in the morning my nappy was soaked. Thankfully, as mum saw it, everything else was dry so her precautions had been a huge success.
It felt really awful sitting at the breakfast table with my brother’s giggling at my bloated nappy and plastic pants. Mum said she’d change me when it was time for school. This really worried me because I thought she meant I’d have to wear a nappy to class but in the end she didn’t mean that at all and I went to school in my normal undies … and uniform. What a relief.
I didn’t have accidents during the day it was only when I was asleep or in the bath… but then the ones in the bath weren’t accidents… I really liked the feeling and watching the almost invisible pale yellow trails disappear into the rest of the water. I also discovered that if I peed near the surface, and my boats were somewhere near the flow, I could get the current to make them sail in a particular direction. I got pretty good at keeping a load of pee for when I was scheduled for a bath so I could spend more time on this incredible discovery.
However, protection at night became a regular feature of my bedtime and eventually my brothers got used to seeing me being wrapped in terry cloth and fitted into rubber pants before I went to bed

I shared a room with my two brothers, Leo, the eldest was nine and Gary who was eight shared a big double bed, whilst mine was a small single bed pushed up against the far wall. When all three of us were up or in the room at the same time, like when getting ready for school, it was a very cramped space. With draws, a wardrobe and of course the beds, we had no room for play, it was strictly a place for sleep and changing. This meant that when mum changed me into my night time protection, this was dealt with on my bed and became a bit of a ritual before my brothers needed to get ready. Otherwise there simply wouldn’t have been the room for us all to be changing at the same time and the bathroom was quite small, so there wasn’t much space in there either. We coped but it had to be done to mother’s precision organisation.
She liked to apply the various oils and powders and though I resented being put into nappies, that resentment was getting less and less every time. The thing was I was enjoying peeing in my nappy. On more than one occasion I’d woken up and could quite easily have made it to the toilet in time but enjoyed the warm surge. My nappy, like the bath, became the place to let it flow.
Mum was slightly annoyed that her washing line was once again filled with my flapping nappies and rubber pants; she thought she was over all that, but as the alternative was fluttering bed sheets and jammies, she let it go.

My night time toilet arrangements became quite a topic of conversation between mum and the neighbours who commiserated with her on my immature return to nappies. As far as I knew, and certainly mum never led me to believe otherwise, I was the only six year-old on the estate still needing night time protection.
Mum made sure if I was staying up to watch TV or we were doing something else, she always wanted to make sure I was in my protection well before bedtime. She dreaded that I might nod off when not in protection and shame myself by leaving a pool of pee that someone else might notice. I couldn’t understand this as I never arrived home from school in wet pants so why she thought I couldn’t be trusted I wasn’t so sure. Although I suspected it was just the normal amount of gossiping and conclusions drawn that went on between ‘concerned’ neighbours.
If mum or dad were going to be busy, on more than one occasion I’d arrive home from school or from playing out and I’d be taken upstairs and made ready for an early night. So, quite often I’d be in my nappy for ages before actual bedtime. So seeing me totter around the house wearing just a t-shirt and nappy was not unusual. I’d try and disguise my padding by choosing a brightly coloured t-shirt, which to me at least, drew attention away from the bulky material between my legs.
However, the urge to fill it then was strong, but I was sure that if they knew I could’ve made it to the bathroom and yet didn’t, then I would be in a great deal of trouble. If they thought it was accidental, and I did it in my sleep, that was acceptable.

Sometimes I’d have an early night just so I could pee in my nappy as soon as I got into bed. The feeling was wonderful and I’d often fall asleep almost immediately after the event. Mum once or twice checked me when she came to bed and, finding me wet would change me into a clean and dry one only for that to be soaked by morning.
There was no doubt I was peeing in my nappy more and more and both Leo and Gary started to complain about the overpowering odour of these ‘mishaps’. As I didn’t seem to be in the process of stopping (and there was nowhere else for me to sleep) her solution was thicker nappies, thicker soak pads and very robust rubber pants. Mum claimed that nothing would get out of this fortified prison and all my changes were to be performed in the bathroom from then on. It was far more cramped and uncomfortable but I couldn’t complain (although I did a little bit).
Mum was giving me more and more responsibility for my own changes. I was left to put it on myself, after suitable instruction and supervision from her, and I got quite adept at pinning myself into multiple folds of soft white (now slightly yellowing) fabric.
The doctor I went to see told dad there was nothing wrong with me and after giving him the third degree about how I was punished, and satisfying himself I wasn’t being abused, said that I’d probably grow out of it pretty soon.

Dad was annoyed that the doctor assumed it was his fault I wet and as a result, I was constantly under dad’s scrutiny and encouraged to improve my night time toilet habits. I did try. I hated that dad was so upset with the disgusting insinuation he was abusing me, so I did get dry for a week or so. Eventually, the strain of staying dry gave way to the pleasure of being wet so nothing changed. Although the outcome of all this was, because of his inquisition dad refused to let me see a doctor again regarding my nightly ‘accidents’.
Even when I reached my seventh, eighth and ninth birthdays I was still wearing my night time armour (as I’d jokingly come to call it) but that changed when dad got promoted and transferred to a different town. A change of house, school and friends suddenly had me more interested in that than my wet habits and miraculously (as mum and dad called it) I suddenly found I was dry and the toilet was not an alien place for me to visit at night. Pretty soon, after almost three years I was back to proper nightwear and a dry bed.
From then on I hardly ever thought about my ‘golden flow’ and certainly didn’t miss the thick nappy.

#

Here I’m going to do a potted history of my life then until now, simply because what happened during these years from when I stopped has no bearing on what I want to tell you about (well I don’t think so).

I had been working since I left school at eighteen though I never went to college, but found myself at a new firm that had ambition and a workforce that functioned very well together. I was one of their go-getters and the firm was in the right place at the right time for the technical facilities it offered. It was a great place to be and we all did fairly well sharing in the company’s successes.
At twenty-one I inherited money that my grandparents had put in trust for me. It was quite a considerable amount and enabled me to put the deposit down on a place of my own.
By twenty-four I was married to a nice girl but my sex drive, which had never been prolific, eventually drove her into the arms of another man (a workmate) and I was divorced by the time I reached twenty-seven.

During in all that time, I never thought about nappies or wetting and those two thoughts have only just recently surfaced, and that has taken me to a place I wished I’d found earlier.
Let me explain.

#

It’s several months since my divorce and I now live alone. Recently I was taking a shower – don’t get me wrong, I’d taken many showers since the decree absolute, it was just this one was sort of a turning point.

It was early morning and as I let the warm jets pulsate against my head and back I let my night time bladder build-up go in the cubicle. Now I’m sure I’d done this more times than I remembered but on this occasion something actually happened.
As the stream of bright yellow pee joined the river of warm water I watched in wonder and my mind was immediately transferred back to the moment when I was six and peed in the bath for the very first time. Then it was pale yellow and in volume hardly much at all but now I witnessed a yellow torrent mixing and mingling with a clear water flow and disappear in a swirl down the plughole.
It was magical.

It brought back that instant over twenty years earlier, when a shiver of excitement, wonder and sheer pleasure led to that most joyful of discoveries – peeing was fun… and not only in the bath.
I’d been in a little bit of self despair because I felt useless and it wasn’t just because of the break up. The divorce hadn’t hit me hard because I more or less knew it was coming from the moment I married Penny. We were more friends than lovers and we’d let ourselves fall into the trap that friends could be lovers. Alas, after just a few short, frustrated years (for Penny) it was over.
Since then my self-imposed depression meant I wasn’t the bundle of fun I used to be and quite a few of my ‘friends’ took the opportunity to let our friendship slide. I can’t blame them I wasn’t much company but it was all a mask for something… though at the time I hadn’t realised what that might be. However, a stream of pee and a delightful memory had had the most amazing effect and I bounced into work a new man.

For the first time in absolutely ages I felt happy. There was energy to my attitude and a zing in my step. I was, to put it mildly, amazingly focused on ME. Not in a depressed state of mind, not self-destructive, not in a negative way at all. In fact, I was all the things I used to be before I got tangled up in growing up. It was surprising how liberated I felt. I could do my job, I could function around others, and the divorce I realised meant a great weight of a lifetime of responsibility had been lifted from my shoulders. THANK YOU GOD… or whoever is in charge of such things.
Now, as I live on my own, I saw no reason not to indulge once again in a physical reminisce and went out to purchase a bag of Abena Abri-Form M4 disposables and a couple of pairs of thick shiny plastic pants (they were in packs of two).
This was an incredible, life-changing decision.

From now on, when not at work (and occasionally when I was, though not as thickly) nappies, disposables and plastic pants would be my underwear of choice. I have once again begun to appreciate that soft rustling sound of a slick pair of vinyl pants, the bulk between my legs, the smooth rounded front to my genital area and wondered why had I let these feelings go?
Powder, lotion and a return of baby pins that help make my fabric nappies fit tightly and look so special was like finding old and much missed friends.
Now I was older peeing in the bath had more force. I watched the few suds being swept into the current and being destroyed, much to my juvenile enjoyment. I began to drink more liquid in the hope that my bloated bladder made the length of pee last much longer. I now try to hold off from going to the toilet wanting to keep it for my bath time ritual… or later. When bed time comes I just let nature take its course and I find filling my disposable immensely satisfying.

I don’t want my complete childhood back but there are things I do that make me giggle like the little kid I once was. The little kid who peed in the bath and enjoyed the sensation of letting go… and letting it flow… a newly warm wet nappy is a thing of immense pleasure.

This story is written by Les Lea

You can find more story’s like this one posted on My ABDL Life. The only thing you need to do is to check out this page to find them.

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Pet pet pet

Pet pet pet

just was in the mood to draw something reasonably silly :)

Order by Charan_flametail ??

Draw and above text by: Charry

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/29993974/

This sure is one silly drawing but i sure understand the different kind of pet. Poor charon looks like he is getting one kind of painful pat :(

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Babyfur Comic: Wile E’s Reset Ch.2 Pg.3

Babyfur Comic: Wile E's Reset Ch.2 Pg.3

After his supper, Wile E is carried by Mom E to a near rocking chair. Mom E tries to feed milk a bottle of milk, but the small genius is very stubborn and reluctant to comply. With his clear defiance shown, the caring mother decides to teach him to behave the hard way by means of spankings. Not long after, Wile E starts shedding tears with Mom E tending to him. The little coyote finally gives in to his mother’s wishes and drinks his bottle.

Wile E Coyote © Warner Bros.
Mom E Coyote © yoshiokaidamasayoshi

Draw and above text by ArtieCanvas

Source: http://www.furaffinity.net/view/29912554/

Poor Wile E Coyote looks like he have a pretty hard time getting use to being a baby again :(

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A brother and a high school student of a college student – Satuki_rabbit

Looks like someone have been naughty here and going to be ended up whit a well spanked butt here :(

I sure wish i could understand chines or what language it is so i could understand what they are saying.

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