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So, yeah, my first post on Omoorg, let's get this bread gamers. Transferring over my recent stories from AO3 onto here every few days (when I remember). First to start will be my BTR fanfic. You can view the original over on AO3 here for part one. I'll link part two when I post it here. Feedback is always appreciated. --- Chapter One: Guitars, Loneliness and White Diapers. --- "My name is Guitarhero, and I present to you: I caught a glimpse of myself diapered and had to destroy every mirror in my room." She strung her guitar, depression choking her as the notes came to her naturally. Clenching her jaw, the rubber nipple of her pacifier got squeezed between her teeth as she mumbled the impromptu lyrics. Between each chord, she could hear the crinkling of her diaper as her body moved in tune with the notes playing in her head. Closing her eyes, she immersed herself in the music. "This one's good – eerily good..." Bocchi carefully dissected each note playing over her headphones, listening for flaws. Mixed with the noise was the faint noise of her diaper rustling between pauses, sending a gulp crawling down her throat. "Great, one day I'll be careless and accidentally let it slip through production, and some pervert will catch it." She ran her fingers over the plastic surface of her diaper, feeling the folds skate across her skin. "I'll wake up, and my comment section will be full of weird timestamps, and someone will make a bot account with the name 'everytimeguitarherousesherdiaper' giving graphic status updates on the cleanliness of my underwear." Another sigh escaped her lips, muffled by the blue pacifier she happily sucked on. "Wouldn't that be sad? Accusing me of something I don't even do?" She paused, the muffled laughter of her guests echoing in her closet. "Isn't that even worse, though? Here I am, spending my allowance to buy diapers to wear for when I'm anxious yet never even use them?" Her fingers dropped across the strings before Bocchi continued to dread. "Technically, I don't even wear them. I've got my panties on under because I'm too scared I'll like the sensation or something, so I'm just here parading as a degenerate without any of the benefits." She strung her guitar again, trying to pull herself out of this self-hating cycle of needless pain. "I can't even be a disappointment correctly." An appropriately timed laugh had cut her train of thought, pulling her attention elsewhere. "Even they're laughing, some family from out of town that's suddenly come to visit. I shouldn't even be wearing now that they're here, but the last time they visited, I got so nervous I vomited all over grandpa, so I doubt they'll come up and disturb me that much." Another perfectly planned disaster. "Besides, Mom will stop them from barging in. If not, the signs across my door should suffice. 'Do not enter, recording!' sounds professional, mysterious, and cool.” The hand-written ward was repeated again across her closet. “I'm sure they'll understand that their to-be super-mega-ultra-diaper-wearing-rockstar is busy with her super-mega-ultra practice!" She strung her guitar again, newfound confidence surging through her as a smile crept up on her face, the pacifier tightly enveloped by her tongue. "My name is Guitarhero, and I present to you: So what if I wear diapers? It's not like I use them." Time passed, the clock inching towards eight in the evening. Bocchi had her eyes glued on the comments from her latest video, analyzing each word as if she was grading English papers. The mental strain of reading people's words posted on the internet was taking its toll on her frail body, causing her more damage than she'd realized. "Isn't that pathetic? I'm getting anxious just reading words on a white page..." She crossed her legs, her mind subconsciously signaling that something was wrong. Instead, Bocchi leaned closer, chewing on the positive praise she's gotten on her latest hit. The diaper had done its job, assisted by the blue pacifier and the stuffed toys she's so shamelessly surrounded herself with - not to mention the plethora of imaginary friends she's nurtured since her earliest memories of being a loner began. Her cure for anxiety was frighteningly effective. Once sufficiently socialized, she danced between the plethora of tabs open in her browser, aimlessly clicking as her mind ran wild with ideas of a band and her performance in it. The imaginary crowd cheered for her, her guitar solo forever chiseled in music history thanks to several recordings popping up on video sites. Then, as pleasant as the dream was, it turned into a nightmare. "And then, at the apex of the solo, a gust of wind lifts my skirt up, revealing the diaper taped to my waist..." At the very least, the weirdos on anonymous internet forums would be satiated knowing their theories were true. Bocchi snapped back to reality, scanning the website in front of her. It was the store page for a onesie she was looking to buy, another pink outfit to add to her collection. "If I had a band, I could easily afford this... But..." Pausing, she took a minute to calculate how many meals she'd need to additionally skip. Then, she opened a new tab: "Minimum amount of daily calories needed to..." Ten in the evening arrived, with no signs of the chatter downstairs ending. Bocchi squirmed in her seat, trying to ignore the throbbing pain in her stomach. Firmly crossing her legs, Bocchi clenched her jaw and waited for the sensation to subside, the diaper between her thighs crinkling as it struggled, crushed between her legs. "Why? Why are they still here!? Is there that much to talk about with my parents and little sis? Do regular people love the sound of their own voices that much that they drag out regular conversations for hours?" She shifted her weight towards her waist, trying hard to suppress the pressures brewing inside her. "I can't, I can't. I genuinely can't do it. I can't go to the bathroom at the end of the hall – it's just impossible. They'll hear me. I can't stealthily rip these tapes off either..." A nervous gulp crawled down her throat, eyeing the empty bottle on her desk. "That's even worse! I'm not – That's not happening.” Bocchi pinched her face, trying to wash the image out of her mind. “It's fine. My family won't stick around for much longer. They've got jobs and a life waiting for them tomorrow. Surely they won't stay - " The date today read Saturday instead of Sunday, as she previously thought. She felt the color drain from her face, despair seeping into her heart. Eleven rolled around. "Surely, Mom must know, right? I try to hide them, but even then - she's the one that cleans my room. Even when I do it - and emphasize it to her - she still barges in and does a once-over herself.” Bocchi sat in the corner of her closet, trailing circles into the ground below. “How do you even approach that as a parent? Your eldest daughter wears diapers in secret and is a total social failure. Poor Mom, please don't blame yourself - it's me who's to blame!” She pressed her hand against the back of her diaper, listening to it rustle with a satisfying crinkle. While her budget only allowed her to afford bottom-shelf pampers, statistics like absorbency and smell-negation only served as filler. “Can I really help it, though? It's like wrapping yourself in a woolen blanket. Please don't misunderstand and think that I actually use them or something gross like that." That thought lingered in her head. Bocchi felt her body tightening, flush with color and swirling with emotion. It yearned for something, a routine she had failed to maintain for tonight. “Crap, I’m getting… horny? Why? Sure, I usually do it before bedtime, and it’s become a sort of bedtime ritual - but I’ve never done it in diapers before.” Her hand switched positions, now drawing circles against the white padding. “Hell, it’s only after I take ‘em off and tuck myself into bed that I feel the urge and quickly deal with it.” Fidgeting, Bocchi ran her fingers across the white plastic of her diaper, feeling it spring underneath her fingertips. An undeniable, powerful heat pulsed from her waist, mixing with the pain of self-imposed constipation to create a unique blend of pleasure. “Don’t tell me… I’m only feeling this way because I’m holding it in? S-Seriously? Is this the moment I figure out a new fetish and forever change the trajectory of my life, giving up my dreams of joining a band and becoming a social butterfly - trading it in for a pitiful, diaper-bound existence?” Bocchi pushed her hands deeper into her crotch, feeling the padding rub against her skin as the diaper rustled with every movement. Crinkling filled the air, audible enough for her to pick it up via her microphone. “Crap, crap, crap! No – show some self-restraint, woman. This is a fluke. I’m anxious and bored and have missed my regular, scheduled masturbation.” She pushed her slender finger against the pacifier, shuffling it around in her mouth to a better position. “I can’t bring myself to do it, not with so many people cheering me on! What would they think of their number one to-be super-mega-ultra-diaper-wearing-rockstar if the truth somehow leaked online? What if, ten years from now, I go under some hypnosis as a joke on live television and confess my crimes?” Her hands returned back to the guitar resting on her lap. “My name is Guitarhero, and I’m NOT a pervert!” Twelve-thirty in the evening. There were no signs of the chatter ending. Only slight pauses between sentences. The crawling, dreaded realization swallowed Bocchi as she felt her heart tighten with pain. She had pushed her body to its furthest edge but could venture no more. "I'm not going to see daylight, am I? I'm going to poop my pants - piss myself and then promptly die but only after my parents find me and bring in my extended family to come and mock me. My dreams of forming a band and breaking my nervous shell, they're all -" She couldn’t even have the luxury of finishing her final words before having her purity ripped from her. Bocchi felt her stomach cramp as her body loosened. Her fingers curled, gripping her guitar as she felt the warm mess slither into the seat of her diaper – the seat of the white panties underneath. She pushed involuntarily, her body demanding the waste be expelled at all costs. The loss of her dignity was only a small price to pay, as she felt an immense relief from such degrading actions. Her mind, usually aloof with dozens of thoughts, became eerily empty as the diaper expanded with a sharp bulge, the panties underneath already filled to the point of failure. Naturally, where there is stool - there is urine, her bladder happily giving up its grip and allowing all of the yellow liquid to fill the bulky padding underneath. The white panties she wore as a barrier protecting her purity became stained, unable to stop the torrent as it rushed from her. Bocchi bit down on the rubber nipple inside her mouth, her face red with embarrassment and heat. She struggled to maintain a coherent thought, only focused on her body and its urges. The aftermath, how she'd sneak this past her mother, her sister, the guests – the worries and anxiety just failed to form. With one last painful push, she felt the weight drop off her shoulders. She had thoroughly filled her pants, ending the sixteen-hour streak of not answering nature's calls. With it, the torrent of voices lingering inside her head returned. "W-W-What the hell did I do!? Wha- How- How am I going to explain this? I-I'm not sure if..." Bocchi had only now noticed that her body had assumed a more relaxed position: on her knees with her butt lifted inches off the ground and body bent forward. She flinched, unable to compute the idea of her body being manipulated without her consent. Was this lost time? "W-What's Mom going to think when she sees her guitar prodigy of a daughter waddling down the stairs in a full diaper? And Futari? I'm nowhere near the sub-water-flea levels I was once - I'm so far below that... that..." She watched as her rankings on the Gotou family pyramid slipped by around five-thousand levels - barely edging out the proto-single-celled organisms that live in the deep sea thermal vents. "No, I can't even rank myself in their esteem! They're the guys that started all life on the planet - please accept my forgiveness..!" Once they accepted, Bocchi bounced back up, her diaper sloshing with every movement. "I've got to get to the bathroom. There's no other way, even if they hear the tapes.” Carefully and slowly, the stinky guitarist pulled herself up, the diaper fastened to her waist rustling with every movement, the contents of her diaper moving around and squishing beneath her weight. “Even if they laugh and gossip at what I'm doing in there, surely they can't think of something worse than this... Right?" She felt the mess settle, still somewhat contained by the ruined panties underneath. Running her fingers across the plastic, Bocchi lightly weighed the size of her diaper, feeling it sag and droop into her hand. The heat and pleasure she had previously fought off returned with a vengeance, guiding her hand over the waistband of her padding and against her crotch. She dipped her fingers against the sodden fabric of her underwear beneath the diaper, tugging at it, feeling it rub against her vagina. Her other hand found its way to the back of her diaper, caressing the bulge that had formed. Again, her mind turned blank as the sensations took over, culminating in a split-second decision that would forever ruin the tiny shreds of purity she still had. Without much hesitation, she used her other hand to squish the back of her diaper, feeling the mass in the seat of her underwear spread. A moan escaped her lips, caught by the pacifier. Again, she repeated the process, feeling the diaper spring back up but remain glued to her. The panties underneath had already overflown, the leakage caught by her padding as it did its intended job. The room filled with a strong but familiar smell, replacing the faint odor of mold and mothballs that became associated with her. Pushing her fingers further, Bocchi curled her toes and chewed on her pacifier - her frail body covered in goosebumps as she approached climax. In a trance, she pushed as far as her body allowed, waves of euphoria washing over her and drowning her with ecstasy. It wasn’t enough, the panties too constricting and causing more harm than good – she slipped her hand between the used underwear and her skin. Digging deeper, Bocchi moaned in silence, her pace increasing and increasing until – Thank God for the pacifier, blocking her from letting out a long moan of pleasure that came with her euphoric climax. Hitori Gotou had now forsaken any dreams of marriage. “W-What the hell just happened!? W-W-W-How the hell did this happen? I was just thinking of going to the bathroom to get out of this disgusting thing - but, ah, what?” She pulled her hand out of the soiled diaper, watching it glisten with urine and long strands wrapped around and between her fingers. It wasn’t a dream, nor a trance, nor was she possessed. “A-Am I a pervert? I’ve never really had any urge to do something like this; I’ve only ever done it to regular porn - what does this mean? I know it’s all hormones and being a teenager, but…” Turning, she struggled to find a place to wipe her hand, settling on brushing it against her diaper. After all, it couldn't get dirtier. “Was it the diaper that turned me on? The act of pooping my pants? I’m not asking because I’m interested. I need to shift the blame onto one specific act so I know to never do it again!” A defeated exhale escaped her lips, her pacifier dropping out of her mouth as a sign of resignation. "A-At least I'm a bonafide TOOL fan now..!" Humor was the only way she could cope with the situation. It was two in the morning when she finally heard the chatter perish and the front door closed. Despite being left to stew in her own filth for an hour and a half, plus an additional thirty minutes she spent waiting for her parents and sister to go to bed, Bocchi felt it was a good payoff. Sure, the moments she's spent in her used diapers are now forever laser-engraved in her memory. She'd sleep worse at night, every night, until the end of days - and no matter how much she'd scrub, she'd never be clean. Sliding the closet door open, Bocchi took two clumsy steps forward and began scavenging her room for supplies, namely, a set of pants to help cover up her shame. "Ah, I'm sorry we've kept you up for this long." "Nonsense, we have no issues with being night owls for a day or two. Besides, Futari sleeps like a champ, so we shouldn't be bothering her." "What about Hitori? Think we're causing her issues?" "Ah, well, she's a complicated girl, but it's nothing personal, y'know? Teenagers and all that..." The family chatted, bags of late-night supplies (namely alcohol) dangling in their hands. It's not often that they meet like this, and the temptation of a bit of booze thrown into the mix was too strong to pass up. "So, she plays the guitar, huh? Just like her father - say, is she better?" "Definitely." Both parents answered in unison. "They're such talented, smart, and pretty girls." The matriarch of the Gotou family answered, her husband nodding along, his rank in the family hierarchy just a step beneath their beloved puppy. "I couldn't be prouder." The front door of their home opened, a wave of stench washing over them. Everyone recoiled, their eyes adjusting to the light from inside. Hitori-Bocchi was caught crouched on the floor, her white and used diaper visible for all to see. Holding her pink track pants by the waistband, she was trying to tug them out of their dog's mouth, the infernal beast chewing on the leg hole. "H-Hitori?" She turned, her face an emotionless void. The dog unlatched from the pants, allowing Bocchi to tumble down onto the floor, squishing the mess nested in her diaper across her butt with a nasty squelch. Unable to communicate a sentence, all she could do was watch the expression of her parents as they stood in stunned horror. She opened her mouth to defend herself, but only a slight wheeze escaped her lips, her flight-fight-freeze response picking the worst of the three options. Even in her most depraved, suicidal, and depressing mind scenarios, she could never reach this level of embarrassment. Adding insult to injury, their dog circled back around, sniffed the air, and let out a disgusted scoff. That new amplifier was becoming more and more of a dream by the minute. Futari Gotou cautiously waddled towards their bathroom, her eyes half-open as the sound of an alarm bell rang in her head still. Rubbing her eyes, she stopped in front of the bathroom door, slightly ajar, and peeked inside. “Hmph…” Her older sister, if you could even call her that, stood hunched over the white sink. Around her ankles were her regular pink pajamas. Around her waist was an adult diaper, currently being shamelessly filled with poop. “Mooooooom! Hitori is pooping herself again!” Bocchi flinched, the toothbrush in her mouth dropping into the torrent of water circling the sink. The color drained from her face, staring at Futari’s concerned expression reflected in the mirror. The reality was much worse, she had messed herself yesterday evening around eleven, during her guitar practice, and failed to ask for a change. Now, she was expelling the rest. “Jeez sis, you didn’t even try and make it to the potty this time. It’s right next to you.” Hitori failed to answer, too busy filling the seat of her diaper. It had been four weeks since the incident, and things escalated quickly. Only a defeated grunt served to acknowledge Futari’s statement. “Well, whatever. I’ll wait in my room until you’re done with mom.” Futari exited, leaving Bocchi all alone. Pushing again, she felt her diaper grow heavier at the back and damper in the front, her mind blissfully blank. A well-deserved break from her intrusive thoughts. Sighing, she finished, running her palm across the plastic. It was concerning, and Futori was right to be worried about it: Bocchi had become so casual about her diapers that even wearing pants around the house bothered her. Her guitar skills exploded, six-hour practice sessions turning into eight, then ten, all thanks to her crinkly underwear skipping any bathroom interruptions. At this rate, she was sure to join a band, easily able to impress even the harshest critics. Bocchi squeezed the bulge nesting in the back of her pampers, head full of praise from her latest Youtube comments. Surely quitting diapers full-time when she actually joins a band won’t be that hard, right? Maybe things wouldn’t be so bad after all.

🐻 Matilda the Bear By Horatio Husky Commission for ArtMckinley Chapter I. Matilda inhaled deeply, closing her eyes as the night air of the forest filled her spirit lungs and nostrils with a sweet, damp scent. The leaves and branches crunched satisfyingly underneath her large foot paws as she walked along her usual midnight stroll, the bottom of her dress billowing beneath her but above the dew covered grass, keeping itself away from its moisture. The being had dressed herself in a maternal looking apron on top of her dress, resembling the image of a motherly caretaker from decades past. She always had a habit of taking a while to catch up to modern fashions, and enjoyed staying a little behind in the times. Her figure was still intimidating despite her motherly appearance, long brown hair, a towering height of well over seven feet, and as with most females bear spirits she bore heavy set breasts and large arms and legs. As a spirit, however, she wasn’t bothered by her appearance, and fully embraced her largeness with a positive personality. Not to mention, she had other worries than how she looked. Her concerns were with the locals and their relation to the forest, keeping sure that each stayed where they belonged and didn’t bother each other too much. That’s when the car with its brights on and music blaring decided to park by the side of the road bordering the forest, her ears perked up, and she followed the source of the noise. Goodness me! If this is Tom again getting home late and drunk his wife isn’t the only one that is going to have strong words with him, she thought to herself annoyedly, remembering how one of the locals had a bad habit of drinking and driving, and how on multiple occasions she had to nurse him back to health herself. The distinct smell of booze was in the air as she approached, her sensitive nostrils picking up a few other choice scents as she drew closer. Are those teenagers out again sleeping with each other away from their parents? Goodness me the youth today truly are shameless! At last she stood next to the car by the passenger side window, she leaned over and peeked inside. Much to her horror, the scene before her was uglier than any she had seen before. Covered in sweat and runny make-up a girl who looked to be in her early twenties lay in the driver’s seat, her breath reeking of alcohol as she moaned to herself loudly, her right hand stuck in the front of her pants working its way in and out of what Matilda presumed to be her unspeakables. Several black highlights were present in her dirty blonde hair, and she was clad in what was in Matilda’s opinion, “Scant, modern rags.” “What do you think you’re doing, young lady? Do you know what time it is? And goodness gracious, do you have any idea how naughty this behavior is! Drunk and touching yourself in the middle of the forest, tsk tsk. You do know that it's a school night and the squirrel kids have to be up bright and early to go to their nut-gathering classes! And don’t even get me started on the birds and worms!” The young woman started at first, turning to gaze at the forest spirit and narrowing her eyes, having difficulty focusing on her blacked out state. Suddenly comprehension dawned on her incapacitated state of mind, and she let out a yelp. “BEAR! PLEASE SOMEBODY HELP THERE’S A BEAR OUTSIDE MY WINDOW!” She fumbled with her keys to get them into the ignition, but Matilda was too quick for her. “You’re not going anywhere tonight young lady, you’re coming with me!” Before she realized what was happening, the bear had walked around the front of the car, opened the driver’s seat, and gently extricated the young lady from her car. Cradling her gently in her arms, she entered into a brisk walk back into the forest towards her home, the young lady blinking and trying to come to her senses while the world spun around her. “L-let me go! I don’t want to be eaten! W-why are you talking anyway… What are you… You’re a bear!” The young woman’s words slurred, which only added to Matilda’s disapproval, “Your behavior is absolutely inappropriate, young lady, a fine thing such as yourself has so much more potential in this world. Ladies like you should be in school learning to make the world a better place, not ravaging through drink and self-indulgence! And if not school you should be finding yourself a husband or wife! This really doesn’t suit you.” The young woman was now utterly confused. Why is this bear talking to me like she’s my mom? Did somebody slip something into my drink and now I’m hallucinating? Before long the party of two had arrived at Matilda’s cottage, a humble looking abode with smoke coming out of a chimney in the back and a comfortable looking porch in the front. “Let’s get you cleaned up now and perhaps something warm in your stomach, if it can handle it. How does that sound, kitten?” ‘Kitten’ blinked her eyes, unable to believe what she was seeing. The inside of the cottage looked nothing like she expected it too. They hadn’t entered a one room building like she expected, but they were now standing in the front hallway of what looked to be quite a large house. As her blurry vision cleared slightly, she saw a staircase leading up to a second floor, and several rooms connecting to each other on the first floor including a kitchen, living room, and what she presumed to be a dining room. “How… What… Wh-” “Hush now dearest, we need to get you cleaned up and in your crib! It’s way past your bed-time.” The young lady was now utterly confused, and almost completely convinced that what she was experiencing was either a hallucination or a drunkenly induced dream. “I’m never drinking again…” she muttered to herself, rather unconvincingly. “Well that’s a start at least! There’s plenty of other things I’ll be training out of you, but that's the one that’s definitely near the top of the list!” After wiping her foot-paws on the rug near the front of the door and locking the door behind her, the bear carried her charge up the stairs of her home and turned a corner, leading them into a white, spacious bathroom. Patterns of smiling ducks, sailors, and beach animals decorated the walls, and a large bathtub in the corner decorated the interior of the bathroom space. Before she had time to marvel at how clean and pristine the bear kept the place looking, Kitten found the bear was now tugging at her clothing, stripping her down naked. “What are you doing!? D-don’t take my clothes off!” The bear stopped for a moment, a patient expression on her muzzle as she set the girl down on the counter. Adopting a chiding tone, she explained, “Now now little one, I can’t get you cleaned up if you’re still wearing all this icky clothing! Not to mention they’re not fit for somebody as pretty as you. Be good now!” She shook her head, still protesting, “Stop touching my clothes you stupid bitch, I told you I didn’t want your help!” Suddenly the world shifted and turned almost upside down. Before she knew it, she was lying stomach down in the bear’s lap. “What are you- OWW!” Whap! went Matilda’s paw as she spanked her charge’s now exposed behind. She cried out, much to her own surprise as tears poured down her cheeks. Matilda tutted under her breath and continued to rhythmically deliver punishment onto her kitten’s behind. “Now look what I have to do, I don’t like giving spankings but you have simply given me no choice. I bet your mother would not approve of the potty mouth that you have developed either!” At this point the girl was now sobbing, snot coming out of her nostrils as the tears further smudged her already spread make-up. Matilda’s ears perked up, as she heard the human mutter and babble out what sounded like a pitiful apology. She quirked an eyebrow, and paused a little longer before she delivered the next smack on the quickly reddening cheeks of her charge. Well that was quick… She seems to be pretty malleable in this state… Hmm… Perhaps…? Speaking in a clear voice, she paused after her 19th spank and addressed the pitiful looking girl in her lap in an authoritative tone. “Now then, are you going to be speaking like that to Mama Bear ever again? Or do I have to show you more of what girls with potty mouths get?” Practically blubbering, the young woman shook her head and managed to stammer out, “N-no… I’m not going to s-speak like that to you again… P-promise!” She spoke, her words intermixed with hiccups and shaking sobs. Matilda realized that she was barely lucid as she lay completely still and limp in her lap, unable to resist the punishment that she had been delivering on her bare behind. She continued, maintaining the same dominating tone of voice as she further chastised, “I thought so! Drinking and touching yourself and staying out late at night, not to mention driving under the influence! You’ve been a very, very naughty girl and you’re going to get even more spanking if you keep this up! You’re lucky I’m letting you off tonight because you’re tired and probably are in great need of a bath and a good night’s sleep! Are you going to behave for me while I clean you up, young lady?” Nodding emphatically, the girl continued to sob and pant in Matilda’s lap. Matilda gently lifted her charge up and laid her head against her shoulder, standing up and supporting her underneath her bottom as she did so. “Now then, let’s get you cleaned up shall we?” Gently carrying her over to the bathtub she deposited her inside, turning the water on and tugging off the young woman’s shirt, the last of the clothing that she had been wearing. “Now, what should we call you?” Matilda mused to herself out loud, as she turned on the warm water and adjusted the girl’s body into a rough sitting position, pouring some shampoo into the water as it began to rise up around her legs. “Hmm… I think Annie would suit you quite nicely, don’t you think so dear?” Annie’s eyes fluttered in response, and she groaned softly, her brow furrowing in a contorted, pained expression. A second trickle sounded in the air, and Matilda quickly realized that her blacked out charge was now adding her own urine to the bathwater. “Goodness me! It’s a good thing we got you in the bath before you soiled yourself! We’re going to have to do something about that if you’re going to be sleeping on my bed sheets! Now, I should still have the nursery set up.” Turning off the faucets she drained the bath before turning on the hot water once more. Retrieving a large rag she dipped it into the steaming water and started to gently wash the girl’s body, holding her various limbs and taking great care that her washing felt soft and gentle. The bear began to hum a tune under her breath as she worked away, speaking softly and cooing over Annie as she washed the make-up from her face and dabbed at her sensitive bits, ensuring that she was clean from top to bottom. “That should do it, all squeaky clean! Let’s get you dried then.” She turned off the water and pulled the plug, letting the bathwater and soap suds swirl away as she picked Annie up and out of the tub, laying her down on a towel she had spread on the bathroom floor. Annie could barely comprehend what was happening to her as Matilda ruffled her short, tomboyish hair in a towel and wrapped her up in the one she was laying on. Satisfied that she was dry, the bear scooped her up, still wrapped in the towel and carried her out of the bathroom. Walking down the hallway she took a left before she entered a room that Annie thought must have been a figment of her imagination. It looked like a regular nursery, except every piece of furniture, toys, and even the diapers beneath the changing table seemed to be oversized. Annie blinked twice, her vision still blurry, and a singular thought bubbled up to the surface of her drunken mind, “I crashed my car, hit my head, and now I’m seeing things…”

Dear fellows, I stared this new set of artworks: The ABDL clinic. This new wonderful enterprise is being though to provide facilities to host and/or train ABDL patients. This is the proper place where you can submit your submissive partner to be trained and regressed back to incontinence and babyhood. They´re equipped with the most modern techniques of ABDL regression therapies and high-tech facilities. They also offers nusering services to host your subby partner and many other services for ABDL patients. Enjoy it, and let me know your suggestions for future artworks regarding this subject.

Hi, I’m a 21 yo dude. I’ve been into ABDL stuff for as long as I can remember. I’ve taken interest in the idea of wetting diapers and zoning out into a baby like state, but didn’t know how to cope with it. I wasn’t able to feel comfortable and dismissed them as some sort of intrusive pedophilic thoughts. Recently, I decided to try and succumb to these thoughts out of mental health interest by buying a pacifier and just sucking on it. The feeling that I had of sitting there sucking on a binky and babbling to myself was one of the greatest experiences I’ve ever had and gave birth to something new in my life. Here comes the part that I am troubled with. I don’t know how to “handle” this information, so to say. I’ve decided until otherwise necessary to compartmentalize this feeling as another person in my head. She’s a little baby named Maiko. I am Maiko and she is I. When discussing with myself what actions I’m going to take or things relative to her, I refer to her in the third person. “I wonder if Maiko would like this?”, “I’m doing this for Maiko.”, and things like that. Is this a healthy attitude to take? I have not talked to anyone in my personal life about this nor do I feel that I currently have options. Right now it’s just me and her. I understand that this probably covers deep psychological spectrums that a professional would be more suited to solve this, but as an average joe wanting to feel comfortable in his own skin, I thought going to one of the hubs the community would give me some insight. To anyone that responds, thank you so much.