Relaxing with Pokemon

Relaxing with PokemonKappa, just having a relaxing time surrounded by her Pokemon plush and playing on her switch.

Order by KappaPiyana

Draw and above text by o-kemono


Looks like someone sure have a fun relaxing time here playing on the switch whit some Pokemon plush to keep here company :)

Now she dont need to feel alone and can focus on the game :)

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My 18th Birthday Part 5

This story is written by Les Lea

As we drove back, after having had lunch at the food court (I had pieces of chicken shaped like dinosaurs and a strawberry shake) where hardly anyone batted an eyelid, I was so excited about getting to play with my new toys. Don’t get me wrong, I had played with toys in the past but not often so this was like a whole new beginning. When I’d helped run the crèche at the work’s charity day I think I was as happy fooling around with the toys as I was getting involved in the kid’s games. In fact, now I thought about it that was the absolute best time I’d ever had at the store.

We arrived back home early afternoon and I was desperate to try out all my new things but Gwyneth took me upstairs, checked to see I hadn’t wet myself in all the excitement and insisted I settle down for a nap first. I was shocked at such a suggestion and told her that I didn’t need one. Again she insisted and I started whining that I wasn’t tired and that I shouldn’t have to go to bed in the afternoon as I wasn’t a baby. However, as I whined and said “No” she pulled off my t-shirt, yanked down my shorts and guided my diapered bottom toward the bed and Teddy.
I no longer felt like an eighteen year-old. My birthday, only a few of days earlier, had been the date when I was finally regarded in most people’s eyes as no longer a child but a man… and yet.

Gwyneth had been very rigorous in not allowing any discussion on the matter and just getting on and doing things for me. I may have felt like I was having an opinion but, in just this short space of time, I’d become a kid again. Not only that, I think I was enjoying not having to make decisions or have any responsibilities. I relished wearing diapers. I loved Teddy. I delighted in all the fun and games my sister organised and she was very good at making all this work for me.

“OK, you’ve had a very exciting day but let’s just calm down a little bit… there’s no need to do everything at once,” she said reasonably. “Just rest your eyes for a few minutes and, if you’re still awake when I come back after I’ve finished what I need to do, you can get up.”

It didn’t seem an unfair request and I don’t think it helped my case that I yawned the moment she had me stripped to my diaper. Teddy was still dressed the same and his cuddly arms were beckoning me to join him so, albeit reluctantly, I did just that. I was sure I’d be awake when Gwyneth returned but she patted my diapered bottom, pulled up the loose cover and stroked my hair for a couple of minutes. As I settled down and yawned once more she said that there was one last thing and slipped the paci between my lips. I was suddenly too tired to argue and without so much as a token protest I soothed myself as I dozed off.


I was in a jungle. There were noises of wild creatures everywhere. I was a little bit scared because I heard a rustling behind me. It was the boy from the changing room, dressed in just his cartoon plastic pants and diaper and it was those that were making the noise. He came and stood by my side and we could hear the heavy clomping footsteps of some huge wild animal; it was a chicken dinosaur like I’d had for lunch except this one had real teeth. Both my new friend and I quaked as it drew near and we decided we’d better run for it. At the same time a tribe of about twenty other kids, some of which were toddlers came running from the undergrowth to join us.

We set off screaming and running. The noise from our collective crinkling and rustling protection sending the wildlife scattering, as we tried to escape the monster that was drawing ever near.

We could almost feel its chicken breath on our necks as we powered through the jungle vines. Monkey’s shrieked and fled, snakes looked quizzically, while lions roared as we squealed our way searching for safety. One of the toddlers appeared to know the right direction so led the way. She hacked at the undergrowth and scared away any animal that crossed her path. The rest of us followed, trying to keep up as she shooed a tiger out of the way.

My new friend and I were at the back and we could sense the dinosaur licking its lips in anticipation of having us for a meal. I could feel its teeth brush my head. There it was again, its teeth grazing the top of my head. I was scared but my friend had made some ground in front of me, his colourful waddling plastic covered bottom acting as my guide. “Run, run, run.” I was calling as I thought I was about to be eaten alive.

I was trying to duck out of the way of those ferocious teeth but something flew into my mouth. I was sure I’d just swallowed a huge bug but… but…mmmmm… that tastes nice.


I slowly came around to find myself sucking on another baby bottle full of some sort of milky formula; it was warm, sweet and tasted nice. When my eyes eventually focused Gwyneth was there holding the bottle and wiping my hair and sweat from my eyes. Neither of us said anything until I’d completely slurped the wonderful drink down. She was smiling and murmuring some kind of tune as if to comfort me, it worked. I looked at the clock and noticed I’d actually been asleep for over ninety minutes, so much for not being tired. Once I’d finished the bottle Gwyneth checked my diaper. She could see the coloured indicator through the clear plastic and knew that I was more than a little damp. I had wet myself once again without being aware of it. In my head I put it down to the scare in the jungle and as Gwyneth set about the change I told her what I remembered of my dream.

She asked me if I’d liked the cartoon plastic pants with poppers that my young friend was wearing and when I gushed more than I should she said that perhaps we should get some for me. I told her about the girl, who was about four or five years-old, who was leading us to safety. She was wearing a short little dress but her thick diaper was clearly visible as she startled all the animals. Her ruffled pink bottom stood out against the green and darkness of the jungle. Again Gwyneth asked if I liked her ruffled panties and, as she sprinkled powder over my groin, I nodded. It was such a clear dream and I was surprised all the elements that had gone into it contained some of my experiences of the day.


I was so intent on telling her about my dream that I hardly noticed I’d been changed. It was amazing how easily I had slipped into this routine such had it so quickly become so much part of my day. Once the blue plastic pants were in place Gwyneth seemed happy that I was now ready to play with my new things. I grabbed Teddy and carried him downstairs and we unpacked all the new toys together. He liked the big truck best, so we spent the time making truck noises and building an imaginary road around the house for it to travel on. All the cartoon figures could fit into its back so they were getting transported as well. Teddy had a terrific imagination.

Wearing just ‘protection’ around Gwyneth’s house had become second nature so Teddy and me playing with the toys and crawling around the floor in a thick, comfortable diaper was like being in my own ‘kidzone’. I think I’d have liked some friends to come and join me, any of those from my dream would have been most welcome but for the moment, well, Teddy and my sister would have to make up my playmates. In fact, so immersed were we in our ‘trucking’ game that before we knew it we were being called for our evening meal, cheesy macaroni.

After din-dins (Gwyneth called it that) I sat and coloured in a couple of pages in one of the books we’d bought at the store. This was another thing I’d never done before, well not since I was a kid. Strangely enough, I wanted to do a good job to show to Gwyneth in the hope of her being proud of what I’d achieved. There were numbers as a guide but I tried to do it without their help and I thought I’d done pretty well. Whilst I was doing that Gwyneth sat opposite me on her computer, I don’t know if she was writing stuff or uploading things onto Facebook or YouTube but I asked her if any of the comments had been from people who wanted to be friends, perhaps even someone who lived relatively close. She said she’d check it out and seemed pleased that I wanted to play with fellow diaper wearing ‘kids’.


She told me that the man at the mall, the man who was ‘dada’ to Little Pauly (I never asked his name) was open to the idea that we could have a play date, if I ever wanted one. She’d got his number and asked if she could arrange it would I’d like to do that.

Of course I enthusiastically replied. “Yes please.”

“OK, I’ll see what I can do,” she held my hand, “I think you’re ready for the next step.”

I wasn’t sure what step she was referring to but I liked the idea of having a playdate. I carried on colouring in my book until Gwyneth said it was time for bed. I had no idea what time it was but I said I wasn’t tired and started to whine about having to go to bed. Only days ago I chose when I went to bed and now, I was told. However, the look Gwyneth gave me when I started to moan told me to watch out and besides, as she reminded me. “Do you want a play date or not?”

From the tone of her voice I knew it was in jeopardy so sheepishly nodded. “Then you go to bed when I tell you to. No arguments or I just won’t organize it for you.”
I could tell she meant it and stuck my bottom lip out in a spot of sulkiness but she seemed even more determined, “Bed NOW.” So that was the end of any discussion.

A few minutes later she followed me up to my room and made me put on my footer pjs again. I was going to complain about them restricting my ability to go to the bathroom but I thought better of it. Once I was settled down she slipped a rubber teat between my lips and I got another taste of warm milk, she seemed happy to make small talk about the day as I sucked the bottle empty. She talked about all the kids we’d seen and what they’d been wearing. What outfits she thought I’d look cute in and how nice it will be when I had my first friend to play with. I just nodded as I sucked and as soon as I was finished she slipped in the paci and told me to go to sleep. I looked over at the clock and it was only 7.30 but, I was in bed, my diaper was dry, I was comfortable, I’d just had a warm drink so there was little else worth staying up for. It was the first night I slept without Teddy sharing my bed but the footer was very fleecy so I just hugged myself to sleep.


I woke up soaked and a little messy. I wasn’t aware of the mess to begin with but, as I began to move around the bed and get myself up, I realised that there was something more in my diaper. It didn’t feel all liquidy like it had when my bowel exploded the day before but I wasn’t happy sharing my diaper with it. I warily waddled down to the kitchen to get Gwyneth’s help out of my footer and hopefully a change but she was on the phone and there was a bowl of cereal on the table. As she spoke she indicated that I should sit down and have breakfast but I really didn’t want to in the state I was in. I stood at the door waiting for her to finish but she impatiently came over, grabbed my arm and marched me over to my chair and forced me to sit down.

She poured milk into my bowl, and, as she continued her discussion, I think with her literary agent, indicated I should eat. Unenthusiastically, I lifted the first spoonful but I was all too aware of the mushiness that I now sat in. She was still on the phone, typing into her laptop and drinking coffee when I’d finished. I sat quietly wondering what she found to talk about; had she heard from our parents, perhaps spoken to Little Pauly’s dada? She obviously didn’t want me hanging around so shooed me from the table to go and play in the room or sit and watch TV. I didn’t feel I could sit on the sofa in my current condition so lay on my stomach watching the TV which was already tuned to a cartoon channel. I didn’t mind, I’ve always liked cartoons so I quickly got into what was going on.


A little while later Gwyneth called me into the kitchen. Finally, I thought, I can get out of this messy diaper and…

“Oh, erm, hello mommy, er, mom.”

There, Skyped on the laptop screen, was mother looking as elegant as ever and smiling.

“Happy Birthday sweetheart.” She beamed, whilst I felt more than a little uptight about still wearing my pjs.

“Er… thanks mom…” Even though she was several days late I didn’t feel able to take the moral high ground as I was sitting in my own poop.

“Your father and I are thinking of you sweetheart and only sorry we can’t be there to celebrate this special day with you.”

“Oh well, you’re very busy… “ I felt guilty myself because I couldn’t even remember which country she was in, although it looked like she was dressed for a party or something.

“I’m sure your sister will make it a memorable occasion for you?” I nodded wondering what she knew.

The large image of mom filled the screen but there was a littler square in the corner containing me. I wondered if she could tell I was wearing kiddie pjs and had a diaper on underneath but my thoughts were interrupted as she brought me back to her.

“OK sweetheart, I have to go as the car has arrived. I’m afraid it will be a couple more weeks before I can get home but Gwyneth will tell you all about that.”

I could hear a voice calling her in the distance. “Happy Birthday again darling, see you soon.”

“Bye mom I…” but the screen went blank and the link died.

I wanted her to tell me why she wasn’t coming home for a while. I wanted to speak longer but the fact that we had spoken filled me with emotion. I’m not sure if it was resentment or what but I felt myself choke up and tears form in my eyes.


Gwyneth came over to comfort me and while I cried into her shoulder she stroked my hair and said that it was “Better late than never.” I suppose she was right but I wish mom, and dad I suppose, had a little bit more time for me and hadn’t forgotten my birthday.

Once I was cried out I told Gwyneth that I was pretty messy and needed a change. She sniffed the air and said she wondered what that odour was, so took my hand and led me upstairs. In the bathroom she helped me out of my footer and checked that my protection had held. It had. She pulled down the plastic pants and saw my poopy problem, so slowly, and with a great deal of care, eased the diaper down making sure the mess stayed in the diaper. Once I was able to step out of it she walked me over to the shower and turned it on. She took the hand shower attachment and sprayed me down with warm water. Once the ‘wreckage’ was clear she then said she needed to make sure I was the “cleanest little boy in the world” (I think she was joking and making a little game out of my embarrassment) but now I was clean I was a little more relaxed.

She grabbed a new body gel out of the cabinet, put on a pair of plastic gloves and spread it all over my body. I wasn’t sure why she needed gloves but after a couple of minutes it started to tingle. She left my body soapy whilst she started shampooing my hair with a different brand. I had to close my eyes because the bubbles were causing them to sting. Shortly after that Gwyneth got hold of a cloth, I still had my eyes closed, but felt her wipe off all the stuff from around my body, especially around my cock and bum hole. Once she was happy all that had been removed I was able to stand under the hot shower and rinse away the shampoo.

I climbed out and Gwyneth was waiting with a huge towel to buff me dry and, although the tingling had eased off, I wondered what the new body wash contained to have such an effect. As usual she dried me thoroughly and guided me to my room and lay me out on my bed. It was only when she started applying some very greasy lotion to my entire body I noticed that I no longer had any hair on my body. The few wisps of pubic hair I once had were now gone, so were the fine hairs on my arms and legs and I suddenly panicked that the hair on my head might have also disappeared. I nervously ran my hand over my scalp and was relieved that was still intact.


As Gwyneth made sure every part of my body (and I do mean every part and crevice) got a thorough coating I lay there waiting for an explanation. None was forthcoming and, as I wasn’t sure how to bring the subject up, or what I planned on saying, she simply got on with my re-diapering. The padding was once again thick, the plastic pants were pulled up and tucked around the leg so the diaper was contained and then she pulled another new pale blue shirt over my head. This one had the outline of a duck being followed by three baby ducklings across the front, it was cute. She then produced a very short pair of white shiny nylon shorts, which she shimmied up and over my padding before adding a pair of pale blue socks with little ruffles around the top.

She brushed my hair and once satisfied had me step in front of the mirror. There was no doubt about it I looked more like I was eighteen months rather than eighteen years-old. That strange feeling enveloped me once more and I wasn’t sure if I liked or was horrified by my reflection. The problem I now had was that I didn’t have a choice, Gwyneth had made all the decisions and, as she stroked my hair, told me what a smart and cute looking boy I was, I felt like I was indeed nothing more than a child… her child.

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.

Chapter 4

Chapter 6

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Knoton – Playtime Potty Break

Knoton - Playtime Potty Break
Knoton was so busy playing with their teddy, that something ended up totally sneaking up on them! Luckily for them, their pampers are perfectly suited for such occasions.

I art reward for?

Draw and above text by ChocolateKitsune


Yes diapers sure is made to handle this type of things to :) Good thing he was wearing one now when someone decide to scare him :)

But he dont seems so happy that he have end up messing his diaper :( Good thing he have his plush that give him some comfort :)

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Tykables Pals

TedEBearTykables is bringing a whole new line of plushies to market starting with Ted E Bear from our Puppers print. 32″ tall this big guy will make you feel Little.

You can find the cute teddy bear here:

But i dont know when its going to be in stock or what the price on this teddy bear going to be :(


But Tykables sure seems to be the first ABDL Company that lunch some own plush’s. That sure is kind of exacting news :)

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Caretaker Tip: It’s a rookie mistake – DaddySnowKitty

I sure think this is kind of a good approach. Or what do you think?

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This story is written by Les Lea

A little while ago I was acting as a security guard at a pop concert at the local arena. I’ll not tell you who the boyband were but they are constantly in the charts and seem very successful. They’d won one of those TV talent shows in the UK but had since become a bit of an International musical phenomenon. Their songs were catchy, the videos inventive and there seemed to be someone to appeal to everyone in their line-up.

Not my type of music really but the job paid okay and the extra cash was always useful. Not that their tunes bothered me as I was guarding their dressing room, which was quite a hike away from the stage.

I suppose, I was posted outside the dressing room door because of my bodybuilder physique I look threatening enough to dissuade any potential fan from trying to gain access.
Anyhow, there was some kind of rumpus in the dressing room, which ended up that I had to escort one of the band members back to the tour bus to collect something. It was a job keeping up with him as he stalked off with a great deal of determination.

Judging by the tiny-tot fan-base that filled the auditorium ready for the concert, most didn’t appear to be over ten years old, but Christ, what a noise they made. Even in the distance the din they made in anticipation of seeing their heroes was unbelievable.

Once inside the huge bus, and whilst he angrily fished around, wriggling into tight places searching for whatever it was, his low-slung jeans revealed a secret. His tight little ass, covered in a diaper and plastic pants, was waving in the air as he bent over trying to find whatever it was he wanted.

I smirked to myself. Now there’s a secret that somebody in the press would pay good money to know.

However, from experience I knew there were probably a bunch of pre-pubescent fans in the audience who still wore that type of ‘underwear’ though I was astonished to see a teenage member of this British band dressed in such a manner. I could imagine that this particular little (or should that have been ‘wittle’?) star had more in common with those kids than the four other, slightly older, members of the band.

Whilst the rest were the noisy, boyish and confident play-makers, he was the quiet, unassuming fifth member who never pushed himself forward. He was the one that every ten year-old girl wanted as a boyfriend… as well as to mother. His floppy blond hair and baby blue eyes stared down from a multitude of bedroom walls right across the world. He looked like he was the baby of the bunch and his soft, juvenile features didn’t help alter that image.

My two girls are grown up now but I definitely remember, not so many years ago, their bedrooms festooned with the latest pop sensation (not unlike this particular boy) and the concerts I had to attend to keep them happy. Thank god these days they can look after themselves but I guess, even they would be excited that I was working (or in the presence at least) of one of today’s major pop idols.


To be honest, I wasn’t being particularly fair to him as I’d more or less dismissed this set of musical imports as nothing more than a flash in the pan. All I had to do was make sure he got to the bus and returned without anyone trying to get to him. However, and I’m not sure why, there was something about the way he acted during the short period of time I was with him that drew my compassion.

As he searched for whatever he needed his jeans tightened around his cute teenybop bum and the outline of his padding became more apparent. Not only that but the top of a pair of milky white, slinky vinyl pants became obvious and I could hear the soft ‘rustling’ sound as he moved, which I remembered so well from when my own kids were toddlers – except, he wasn’t a toddler.
It was such a startling revelation but I have to say I was enjoying the little spectacle as he crawled around the floor desperately rummaging for who knows what? He was unconscious of what I could see and I’m sad to say, my opinion became that of a stereotypical spoilt UK youth. Not that I knew any British kids other than those on TV, but my opinion on the matter was very low… I thought they were all a bit ‘delicate’.

As he struggled in his hunt, more and more of the back of his protection was revealed. I offered to help but he just said “No thank you Mister” (at least the boy had been brought up to have manners) but I could tell from the way he said it he was frustrated.

“If you tell me what it is… maybe, four eyes rather than two might find it quicker.” I suggested.

He turned and looked at me and I could see pure anguish on his beautiful, unblemished teenage face.

He thought for a moment.

“I can’t go on without him,” he sobbed.

I’ve never been able to help myself as I just hate to see kids upset. I couldn’t stand it with my own and this sad looking little fella seemed in need of some consideration.
“Okay, okay… tell me what we’re looking for and let’s see if we can’t track it down.” I offered with a smile.

With all his manic searching and wriggling under things his jeans had slid further off his hips and there was more of his padding on show than he necessarily wanted anyone to see. However, he was so worried about what he’d lost that he seemed unconcerned that so much thick protection was now in view.

“He’s, he’s about this big.”

He stretched his right thumb and forefinger to reveal that it was about three inches long.
“… and is a small furry teddy bear on a keyring.”

Although this sounded to me like I’d been set up for a prank, I could tell from little Da*** (sorry still can’t say his name) eyes that he was deadly serious about finding this ‘charm’ of some description.

“I can’t go on without Benny. I had him at my first audition and he’s always brought me… luck…”

He stumbled over his words and cried a little.

“I know I’ll fail if I… huh… don’t have himmmm.”

He drew out the final word, desperation in his voice, and began to look around with more intensity, anxious to retrieve the object from wherever it had gone.

I knew from my own experience with my girls that no amount of sweet words and positive encouragement would help the situation. The only thing to do was start looking and hope the little teddy bear would soon be found.

In the distance I could hear the build-up in the auditorium continuing and had been surprised that their tour manager had let him leave the dressing room so near to performance time. But judging by the initial hullabaloo I’d heard, perhaps he had been creating so much in there they simply had to let him go.


The leader of the band had indeed been gloating over Benny’s disappearance and as always continued to mock their youngest member because right before a show he’d get so nervous he often pissed his pants. Then there had been a few other occasions where he’d actually pissed himself on stage, so action needed to be taken.

The solution had been obvious, wrap him up in a nappy and send him back on stage. The only problem with that was the lack of sympathy from the other members of the band and the continual reference to him as ‘wittle baby’.

Although outwardly, and as far as the fans were concerned, all was fun and friendship, in reality there was a growing chasm. The others were quickly growing tired of their teenybop reputation, even if it was earning them millions each year.

However, the name-calling and general piss-taking had gotten past a joke as his problem got worse and he needed nappies almost full time.

They also resented him for other reasons which I was soon to find out.


“They all hate me,” he whined. “They think I’m treated differently because my doll outsold all theirs put together.”

He didn’t say this with any amount of hubris just with a cute, resigned sigh.

“The press made a big deal of it so…”

There was nothing about this boy that wasn’t sweet and innocent (well that’s what I took away from our short meeting) and I felt sorry that he wasn’t as worldly as the others. However, I suppose that was his appeal, and probably why he shifted more dolls than the rest of the group.

I remember Christmas that year the ‘must have’ toy for girls of a certain age had been to collect the band in doll form. People were going ballistic in the toy stores grabbing and fighting to make sure their little one received that special figure under the tree.

The bands album, single and DVD all topped their respective charts during that period, as I think they still were when this concert took place. They were massive and the eight thousand plus screaming kids in the arena were making sure that another million or so would be added to their coffers.

“They know I need Benny… my little good luck teddy bear… I’ve had him since I was a baby. I feel I can do anything when he’s with me, when he’s not I feel lonely, a bit scared and my confidence goes completely.”

There was a pause. “Silly aren’t I?”

He looked up at me with his sad but revealing eyes, almost begging me not to mock the fact that a boy his age should still be concerned about something as trivial as a key ring. But as I say, I had daughters and knew that being dismissive of such attachments was not very productive and could lead to resentment.

There was also a look of complete panic just brewing under the surface and I saw him fidget and rub the front of his diaper. I remember that action very well; it usually meant that when my daughters did it they had just wet their pants, though of course I couldn’t be certain it was the case this time.

“Okay sweetheart,”

For a moment I forgot my place and just thought I was speaking to one of my girls whenever one of them got in such a state.

“Let’s see where we can find Benny.”


The tour bus was quite a big affair as it had sleeping quarters for the band and staff, who I’d expect to be doing this job instead of me. Alas, I learned, such was the tantrum he’d generated in the dressing room he’d insisted that only he would go and look for it as he no longer trusted anyone else. I think I was an afterthought when the manager realised they couldn’t let such a valuable asset venture off on his own. So I was sent to make sure he returned.

He couldn’t find Benny and was getting into a much worse state, the tears and panic making his search that much more difficult.

Then I had a brainwave.

“Where do you keep your diapers?”


The look on his face changed to anxiety that his secret had been exposed. I pointed to his visible plastic pants.

“Ohhh, please, pwease don’t tell anyone… I have to wear nappies.”

He started hyperventilating and it took a few deep breaths to help calm him down.

It took me a minute to remember that nappies were a British thing but diapers were the same… although it was obvious he needed some reassurance.

“Look buddy, I’m not here to reveal your secrets. I signed a confidentiality agreement before I was allowed to work here. I just want to help and, if I know what boys are like, they’ll have either thrown your charm away…”

A look of sheer horror crossed his face.

“Or… or…” I tried to placate him, “…they will have hidden him in what they regard as the most embarrassing place for you.”

He seemed to nod in understanding and toddled over to his bunk.

Actually it was more of a waddle because his disposable diaper had expanded so much. It was the sag that was weighing his diaper down so I guessed he’d wet on more than one occasion. That boy most really flood when he gets nervous.

His vinyl pants now appeared stretched and shiny and if he’d been my responsibility I would have taken him to the changing bench and urgently got him into something nice and dry.

He grappled for a few seconds under his bunk for whatever he was reaching for and as he pulled it into view I heard a little yelp of happy surprise come from his lips. He turned, and there, dangling from between his thumb and forefinger, was his prized possession. The look of relief was palpable and the tears that fell were of relief and happiness now Benny was back in his custody.

Meanwhile, I couldn’t help but stare at the large box of juvenile patterned disposables he’d also brought into full view.

He rushed over and threw his arms around my waist and gave me a grateful hug.

“Thank you, thank you so much mister… I’d never have thought of looking there.”

I’d never particularly liked the British accent before but this grateful crush and sweet, unaffected joyful response to finding his bear was very charming. His appreciations at getting Benny back

muffled by that intense squeeze as his face pressed into my taut belly.

I was surprised at his spontaneous, affectionate action and patted his padded bum quite by accident.

I could feel in that hug just how much it had meant to him to be holding his good-luck charm and I began to wonder if he’d ever let me go.

“Shouldn’t you be getting back now?” I gently offered.

He suddenly appeared to realise that he had work to do.

“Oh, erm, yes, of course.”

He didn’t appear to know what his next course of action should be because he started once again to rub the front of his protection so I think at least another spurt of pee had filled his diaper.
For a moment he was confused and wasn’t sure what to do.

Look, I know I was in no way responsible to the lad but I just thought that at that particular moment he needed a guiding and helping hand.

“Do you need time to, er, change first?” I offered.

He looked quizzically up at me unable to even form the words for ‘Yes’ or ‘No’. The poor little guy was very distressed and really needed assistance he couldn’t possibly go on stage in the state he was in. Had he returned to the dressing room with such a sagging diaper he risked further humiliation from everyone.

He seemed locked in indecision and fear.

“Would you like me to help you?”

It was an offer I was reluctant to give but he seemed desperate and trapped. I knew it wouldn’t be long before he was needed on stage so something had to be done.

“I am a father and have changed my daughters many times over the years. I think you’ll be in safe hands.”

Loads of thoughts filled my head all at the same time.

Would he think I was being too forward?

Worse, would he think I was some kind of pervert?

I just remembered my daughters often leaving an excited but damp puddle on the back seat of the car when they’d got anxious or over-excited about something. I needed to offer some solution to his expansive protection.

He eventually nodded.

A look of shy relief flushed his face as he pulled out a fresh, clean disposable from the box.

His jeans were already halfway off so, unbuttoned the top and let them fall to the ground.

I asked if there were any wipes and he directed me to the bus’s bathroom where, for such a small space, there were all manner of lotions and potions, oils and sprays, powders and tissues, I grabbed what I thought I needed and returned fully armed.

Meanwhile, he’d shuffled out of his plastic pants and pulled at the tapes. His colourful disposable was swollen with urine and certainly wouldn’t have lasted much longer. I offered to take control from there on and he seemed content in letting me get on with it.

I removed his bulging diaper, wiped his rather small but resting penis and pale pubic area, which had less hair than I would have expected, and rubbed in some lotion. He giggled, actually giggled, when I sprinkled the powder and I couldn’t help but sort of lecture him about older boys and bullies.

As I spoke I unfurled the fresh disposable and it was covered in cute little cartoon animal characters, very childish but they seemed the correct size for him. It brought back memories of my girls and the pleasure I took in making sure they were all clean, dry and tidy before they went off to play.

As I fastened the tapes and returned his plastic pants into position I tried to make him realise that having such a charm would lead to continued bullying. They would always be able to use his reliance on it as a way of getting at him. He seemed to appreciate my words and nodded but I could tell from the way he gripped Benny that this was one contact with his childhood he wasn’t ready to dispense with just yet.

He pulled up his jeans, fastened the little bear to one of his belt-loops and was ready to return. The outline of the fresh padding barely showed under his jeans. So, I guess the public wouldn’t know of his secret from today’s performance, which was just as well because at that moment the manager threw open the door with a pained expression on his face.

“We can’t keep them waiting any longer… we need to get on stage.”

Da***, (sorry still can’t say) nodded and turned his handsome face to me.

“Thank you very much mister for your help… and in finding Benny… I really appreciate all you’ve done.”

“C’mon, c’mon the crowd are getting restless.” The manager urged.

So, as he followed his manager, I heard that wonderful rustling sound I’d loved once my own kids had been cleaned, changed and slipped into a pair of plastic pants. Then suddenly I was on my own and left to lock up the tour bus and return to my station outside the dressing room.

Even from where I was standing, which was miles away from performance area, I could hear the scream as the boys took the stage. For the next couple of hours that noise never stopped and, despite my total lack of interest in their music, I wanted to see my new found friend (?) perform.

Still, even though I couldn’t watch them, in my head I was watching his cute little padded bottom send the girls and boys in the audience into raptures. It was nice looking after a teenage toddler, I doubt our paths will ever cross again but I won’t forget that particular meeting in a hurry.

He seemed a nice, unaffected, polite teenage boy in a diaper and as long as he had little Benny, I suspect he’d be okay.

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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Ricky’s plushy cuddle

Ricky's plushy cuddleLooks like Ricky also enjoys his plushies in his spare time :3

Ricky belongs to pichuboy

Draw and above by pichu90


Ricky sure seems to have one cozy time here whit his Pikachu plush :)

They both seems to have a awesome and good time together :)

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Playing with Plushies

Playing with Plushies

What does Sparks’ do other than battling, adventuring and munching on sweets? He plays with his plushie collection!

Here he’s sharing them with Tails the pikachu along with Jolts (dedenne) and Ember (fennekin). Both have slightly changed designs since the first time I’ve drawn them.

Helps relieve stress from all that battling :D

Draw and everything by pichu90


Looks like they all having a fun relaxing time playing whit there plushy`s :)

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