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#adult women wearing diapers
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sarasoaker · 1 year
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Just relaxing after a long day of work.
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mellowsadistic · 30 days
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"Lift up your pretty dress, baby," I ordered. "Show Daddy's friends what you're wearing underneath."
April's cheeks flushed, and she looked up at me imploringly, even as the men and women around us started to titter. "Please, Daddy," she whispered. "Please don't make me... I don't want them to see..."
"You should've thought of that before you started wetting your pants like a toddler, April," I said. “Now do as you’re told. Don't make me ask you again, young lady."
Looking tearful, April slowly raised the hem of her skirt, revealing the thick disposable diaper she wore beneath. The crowd around us burst into laughter at the sight of it. Many of them were our mutual friends, April's friends too from before her demotion to babyhood, but none of them saw her as an adult anymore. After months of carefully engineering public accidents and potty emergencies, not to mention a myriad of other babyish behaviours, I'd managed to strip her of her status as a big girl in the eyes of everyone who knew her.
Kneeling down, I pressed my hand to the front of her nappy and felt the warm squishiness within. "A bit soggy," I announced, to the raucous amusement of my guests, "but a change can wait until after the Easter egg hunt, I think. She hasn't made her morning messy yet, and all that rushing about is sure to get things moving!"
Our friends laughed even harder, and April's face went scarlet. "I don't wanna do a stupid Easter egg hunt, Daddy!" she whined, sounding exactly like a fussy three-year-old.
"All the children are taking part, April," I said firmly, delivering a sharp smack to the inside of her thigh, "and that includes you. Girls who still need diapers don't get to sit and have champagne with the grown-ups. You'll be toddling around the garden with the other kiddies, hunting for eggs."
April's bottom lip trembled. "But I'll look so stupid," she whimpered.
I ran my fingers through her hair, tucking a few strands behind her ear, and said, in a far more gentle voice than before, "You're going to look adorable, darling. You're so pretty in your little outfit. My baby bunny." I leaned in closer, so that nobody else could hear. "Tell you what, princess, if you can find the most eggs, I'll let you have an orgasm. Would you like that, baby? Would you like a little clitty tickle?"
April's eyes widened and she nodded eagerly. She hadn't been allowed an orgasm in a long time. I smiled. I wouldn't really let her cum of course, but on the off-chance she won, it would be worth dealing with a tantrum or two to see her stomping around the garden in a wet (and soon to be stinky) nappy, trying her hardest to find the most Easter eggs.
"That's my good girl!"
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regressionschool · 7 months
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Acceptance? In the softly lit nursery, Odette sat on the cushioned floor, tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. She felt utterly helpless, like an oversized toddler trapped in a world that had systematically dismantled her adulthood. The past seemed like a distant memory, a time when she was in control of her life and choices. Her boyfriend, Mark, stood in the doorway, a smug expression playing on his lips. His voice dripped with mockery as he addressed her, relishing in her vulnerability, "What's wrong, little girl? Daddy wants to know."
Odette's sobs intensified, echoing with the frustration and humiliation that had become her constant companions. She hadn't allowed herself to cry when her rights were first taken away, when society decided that women were nothing more than overgrown children. Even when Mark disciplined her with a stern hand, she clung to her adult identity. Tears hadn't fallen during her time at the Regression School, a place that felt more like a sinister laboratory. The heavy sedation, the disorienting awakening to a voice that was now childlike and innocent, the struggle to communicate with a lisp and halting speech—it had all been endured with stoic determination. She had even resisted breaking down when her balance was disrupted, turning her into a toddler-like figure stumbling clumsily through life. The loss of fine motor control, the inability to feed herself without creating a mess—it was all deeply humiliating, yet she maintained her composure.
But the one thing Odette couldn't bear was the loss of her potty training. The Regression School had taken even that from her, leaving her permanently and completely incontinent. Helpless wettings and messings in her nappies had become her new reality, and it was a reality she couldn't accept. The sobs racked her body as she sat in a soaked and soiled nappy, her dignity stripped away. Even the most basic bodily functions were now beyond her control. Mark approached, his fingers gently tugging at the back of her nappy, his face contorting in feigned disgust. He confirmed what Odette already knew. "Uh-oh, it looks like someone has a dirty nappy. Is that why my little girl is crying? Because she wants Daddy to change her stinky bum-bum?"
Odette's response was a heart-wrenching cry, her vulnerability laid bare. She longed for the days of adulthood, for the independence and self-assuredness she once possessed. The nursery walls seemed to close in around her, a constant reminder of her diminished state. Daddy stood there, his arms crossed, a stern look on his face as Odette's cries filled the nursery. He seemed unmoved by her distress, resolved in his conviction that this was the new normal for her. She couldn't understand why he wouldn't change her, why he was subjecting her to this humiliating ordeal. Her voice, now trapped in a perpetual state of childishness, protested with all the strength she could muster. "Daddy, pwease change me! I don' like it! Diapies are for babies!" But Daddy remained resolute, shaking his head. "No, sweetheart. You need to learn that in this world, regressed girls wear diapers. It's normal, and you need to get used to it."
Odette's frustration and helplessness grew. She tugged at the soaked and soiled nappy, feeling utterly defeated. It sagged heavily between her legs, a constant reminder of her loss of control. She struggled to find the right words in her childlike speech, tears rolling down her cheeks as she continued to plead, "But Daddy, I don' wanna be a baby. I wanna be a big girl again." Daddy's expression softened just a fraction, but he remained firm. "I know it's hard, sweetie, but you need to accept your new life. This is who you are now, and there's no going back." Odette's heart ached with longing for the past, for the days when she was an independent woman with her own voice and choices. But as she looked at Daddy's unwavering gaze, she realized that those days were gone. She was now Daddy's little girl, forever trapped in a world of diapers and baby talk, and there was no escape.
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prettyprettypaci2 · 5 months
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Therapy - Part 6
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💕 Part 1 💕 Part 2 💕 Part 3 💕 Part 4 💕 Part 5 💕
"I think you enjoyed that a little too much!"
Your heart is racing and you're panting frantically like a puppy. Beads of drool form at the corners of your mouth and you bite your lower lip as your body is overwhelmed with ecstasy. You need more. You'll beg Miss Heather for more. She has to keep going. You've been so good...
"Please..." You whine. "Just one more time..."
"Are you sure you can handle it?" Miss Heather chuckles, leveling her chin and smiling mischievously.
"I'll do anything..." You plead.
Miss Heather considers you with serious eyes, though she doesn't break her smile. You can tell you've won. Your therapist may know how to twist every dial in your mind, but you've learned how to twist a few of hers.
"Okay," she says slowly, opening her bag and reaching inside. "But you can't tell your step-mom. Get me a waffle cone."
You grab the money Miss Heather hands you and race back over to the ice cream truck parked about fifty feet from your picnic table. Your eyes dart across the landscape of colors and textures in the refrigerated trolley, ensnaring you in a dream state. Your pupils are as big as saucers, soaking in the strawberry reds, the minty greens, the enticing purple swirls. You hadn't had ice cream -- or really any appetizing food -- since your step-mom and step-sisters forced you into diapers. You're lucky when you get to eat graham crackers and applesauce.
You settle on a large double-scoop of fudge brownie supreme. Dutifully palming Miss Heather's waffle cone of decadent lemon torte, you thank the uneasy man at the counter and are practically skipping back to your table at the park, both treats in hand. You're used to people looking at you a little funny when you're out and about. They see an adult wearing long sausage curls topped with a pink hairbow the size of a milk bottle. They watch you romp around in furry boots and thick wool socks pulled up to your knees. And of course, they notice your denim dress isn't quite long enough to cover the crinkly companion on your bum.
As you pass a table of young women your age, you overhear them sniggering. A caustic voice says "Oh, look at the ice creams; brown and yellow, just like the diapers!" Your jubilant skipping fumbles into an awkward waddle, and you almost fall over. In your moment of distraction, the tower of brown fudge ice cream tips towards you and smushes into the front of your denim dress. You gasp at the cold, gooey sensation on your chest, and let the cone slip from your hands. It lands in the grass between your furry boots.
"Whoops! Baby had a blowout," a different woman teases, and the table erupts in laughter. You look down at the thick brown smudge on your dress and feel your face get hot. The joy that was bubbling up inside you seems to drain out of your body, literally, as your sagging diaper expands beneath your hips. You've started to pee.
"Oh my GOD!"
"Is this HAPPENING right now?"
"Do we, like, call the cops or something?"
You feel frozen in time and space. The voices are different, but when you close your eyes, the taunting words become those of your step-sisters, Lauren and Olivia. It's all their fault. If they hadn't tormented you...if they hadn't faked your accidents...you wouldn't be having a real one right here in the middle of the park. You wouldn't be wearing this ridiculous hairbow or this dress or...this stupid diaper.
Your gush of pee slows to a tepid trickle, and you reflexively push your thighs together to feel the new girth of your mushy padding. At least you won't leak. You flash back to when Lauren and Olivia had forced you to keep wetting your diaper until it swelled beyond capacity, and you piddled on the carpet like a scared puppy.
MY diapers are soft.
You remember your step-mom locking the bathroom door at night, since that was the only way to keep you from trying to take your diaper off.
MY diapers are convenient.
You remember being grabbed by the pigtails and having your face shoved in your diaper pail, gagging from the acrid odor of your own making.
MY diapers smell so sweet.
You don't remember how you got back to the picnic table where Miss Heather was waiting for you. You must have handed her the yellow waffle cone you had managed to hang onto, because you see it in her hands. It feels like the last minute of your memory simply erased itself. You look forlornly at the grass.
"I've got some stain remover in my desk," Miss Heather says sympathetically. "Always good for emergencies. We'll have you good as new when we get back to the office."
You look up at Miss Heather with glistening, tearful eyes. "I think I need to be punished."
Miss Heather mouths a silent 'oh' and smiles sadly. "It was just an accident. There's no need to worry."
You smother your face with your hand, sweeping aside a bouncy sausage curl. "No, I mean...I wanted to take my diaper off. I still want to take my diaper off. That's against the rules. You should spank me."
Miss Heather reaches over and takes your hand off your face. She folds her fingers over your palm and grips it tightly.
"You're such a brave, brave person," she says. Her voice is comforting and genuine. "I've never known anyone like you. You try so hard to learn and grow. You appreciate the majesty of simple things. You're going to make someone very happy someday."
"Do I make you happy?" The question comes out of your mouth, but it's as if it were someone else's thought. It was so bold and unplanned, you hardly believe you said it. Miss Heather is caught off-guard and you feel her grip on your hand loosen a bit. You don't let go.
"You...I mean...I think I should drive you back soon. We don't want Mr. Kazoo to worry, do we? Why don't you have my ice cream in the car?" You've never heard Miss Heather sound anxious before.
You shift around a bit, feeling your diaper squish against the hard seat of the picnic table. The spring air is already making it cold and clammy against your skin. "I think I need a diaper change before my spanking," you reply matter-of-factly.
Butterflies flood your tummy as Miss Heather's grip on your hand reasserts itself. Whatever vulnerability was there disappears as you remind her why you need her. Why she needs you to need her. You feel safe. She's in charge again.
Miss Heather reaches into her bag and pulls out your giant pink pacifier. Your mouth falls open the moment it appears in her hand. You lick your lips before she slides the rubber nipple between them, pushing it deeply inside you. Your tongue laps at the familiar fullness, and you suckle calmly. Miss Heather hands you the ice cream cone and guides you to your feet, lightly smacking the back of your drooping diaper. You squirm, and feel the butterflies soar.
"Get in the car. Back seat. Now."
🦋🦋🦋
💕 Part 7 and Epilogue 💕
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nycbabyjoey · 9 months
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A Formal Affair (Patreon Preview)
NSFW 18+ Only
Contains ABDL Content
Mr. White broke Charlotte of her flashback by whispering commands, "Don't forget: smile and wave any and all adults we pass."
Charlotte did as instructed as they walked past security motioning them where to go. She waved the princess wave as she had practiced for years - a slightly curved open palm with small, slow twists of the wrist. Any deviation from her training would lower her value as an auction item. Her smile beamed so wide that any of the adults would see it even past the large pink pacifier blocking her lips.
Mr. White continued to escort her to where security had directed them, around the large mansion to a back door. This lead down a long corridor to a secluded room in the back of the mansion where Mr. White joined a line of trainers and their diapered slaves.
All the trainers were wearing the fancy, flowing gowns or full suits which contrasted with the slaves' outfits which were designed to not cover much and expose their diapers. Charlotte figured there were about 40 adult babies in the room up for auction. Of that total, about thirty-five were women. Most wore similar babydoll dresses to Charlotte so that the auctioneers would see their diapers, but a handful wore nothing but a diaper so that their breasts were completely on display. "Classless," Mr. White had said of the strategy when choosing Charlotte's auction night outfit. "But effective. Seeing the breasts does often drive up the price. But with Charlotte's... let's say, fruitless display in that department, we're better off stuffing her dress."
There was a market for the men, but it was very different. The men were large and buff so they mostly wore no outfits to highlight that even these machismos had been subdued into diapers. One of the less buff men wore a sweater vest over a button down shirt with an adorable little bowtie, covering his chest but leaving his diapered bottom exposed. One man wore no shirt but was directed around by his trainer using a leash and collar. Charlotte suddenly felt like a competitor at the Westminster Dog Show.
Read the rest of this story, and others, for only $5 a month on Patreon.
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mellowsadistic · 30 days
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Easter Bunnies - Part 3
Melony woke up from her nap feeling strange. Her first thought was of chocolate. Daddy had said she could have some of her Easter eggs after her nap, and she could feel a rumbling in her tummy. But her second thought was about why she was taking a nap in the middle of the afternoon. She wasn’t a baby, after all. Only dumb babies needed naps. She lifted her head off her pillow and looked around blearily. She was sharing a crib with Jackie. Her friend was still fast asleep, sucking her thumb peacefully, and she was giving off a strong smell of urine. But then, Melony thought, as she lifted the covers and looked down at the sodden adult diaper around her own waist, that could just as easily be her…
She blinked. Her head felt funny. Or had it been feeling funny before? She put a hand to the top of her head, but there was nothing there. No bunny ears. Where had they gone? A slight frown creased her brow. Why did she want them so badly anyway? They were just a pair of stupid bunny ears. They were for little girls. Or were they for big girls too? Her frown became more pronounced. She was pretty sure she’d seen grown-ups wearing bunny ears. Girls in sexy outfits. So they couldn’t be that immature.
Melony got up on her knees, and her mouth twisted into a grimace as her nappy sagged heavily. It was so full of wee-wee that it almost touched the plastic sheet of Jackie’s crib. Her outfit definitely wasn’t mature. Adults didn’t wear yucky wet diapers. She put her hands to her chest, and her felt her breasts through the fabric of the yellow t-shirt Daddy had dressed her in for her nap. But little girls didn’t have these.
Then it all came flooding back to her in a rush, all her memories, all her awareness. “Oh my God…” she whispered. She started shaking Jackie awake. “Jackie,” she hissed urgently, panic rising inside her. Their boyfriends were trying to turn them into overgrown toddler freaks! “Jackie, wake up!”
Jackie’s eyes fluttered open and she pulled her thumb out of her mouth with a pop. “Dada?” she murmured sleepily.
“No, Jackie, it’s me! It’s Melony! Wake up! You’ve got to remember who you are!”
Jackie rubbed her eyes with her fists and blinked up at her. “Mewwie?” She clambered awkwardly up onto her knees too, then she grinned. “Mewwie!” she squealed, and wrapped Melony in a tight hug. “I wuv you!”
Melony cringed. She could feel her friend’s braless breasts squishing against her. “I love you too, Jackie,” she said, keeping her voice low, “but right now we need to get out of here.” She extracted herself from the cuddle. “You’re not a baby, Jackie. You’re a grown woman, remember? You’re twenty-four years old. You’re training to be a doctor!”
Jackie cocked her head, still grinning. She let out a gurgling giggle that suggested to Melony she hadn’t understood a word of what she’d just said, or perhaps she just thought they were playing.
Hazel stirred beneath the sheets of her mattress on the floor. She yawned and stretched and got to her feet; as the Hello Kitty covers fell from her body, she was revealed wearing nothing but a soaking wet pair of training pants. It was no wonder the room smelled like pee – all three women had wet themselves in their sleep.
“Hazel!” Melony said urgently, turning her attention to her other friend.
Hazel blushed and covered her padded crotch with her hands. “Acc-see-dents doesn’t count when it’s naptime,” she mumbled shamefully. “Daddy says.”
“Hazel please! You’re not a toddler! You’re an adult!”
Hazel beamed. “I a big girl!” she declared proudly, putting her hands on her hips and standing with her legs wide, making the droop of her pull-ups obvious. “Not a baby wike you and Jackie!”
“No!” Melony pleaded. “Hazel, we’re all adults! Our boyfriends have done something to us! You’ve got to wake up!”
Hazel shook her head in a superior way. “Am awake, Mewwie,” she said. “Siwwy baby!”
At that moment, the door to the bedroom opened and Peter came in.
“You!” Melony snarled, getting to her feet and gripping the side of the crib, glaring at her boyfriend. “What the hell have you done to us?!”
Peter raised his eyebrow. “That’s no way to talk to your Daddy, little one,” he said, sternly. “Keep that up and I’ll have no choice but to put you over my knee.”
“You’re not my Daddy!” Melony shouted furiously. “And you can’t talk to me that way! I don’t know if you drugged us or hypnotized us or what, but when I get out of here you’re going straight into a fucking prison cell!”
His expression quite calm, Peter walked up to the crib and lowered the bars. Then he took Jackie by the hand and helped her down onto the carpet. “Hazel,” he said, turning to the nearly nude young woman, “be a good girl, take Jackie and go and find your Daddies, okay? I think they’ll give you some of your Easter chocolate! But Mellie’s being a naughty little girl, so I’m going to have to give her a spanking before she can come downstairs.”
Jackie’s eyes widened and Hazel giggled. “Yes, Mewwie’s Daddy!” she chirped, and she took Jackie by the hand and skipped out of the room in nothing but her pissy pull-up, dragging her infantilized friend along beside her.
Once they were gone, Peter turned back to her. He pointed his finger at the floor. “Come here, Mellie. Out of the crib. You’ve earned yourself a sore, red bottom, young lady.”
“You’re crazy!” Melony shouted. “I’m not gonna let you spank me, you monster!”
“In a minute or two, you’re not going to have the will to resist, darling. Not when Daddy gives you a stern look. Your mind will be regressing back to babyhood any moment now.”
“W-what do you mean?” Melony stammered, as a chill ran through her body at his words.
“There we no drugs, sweetie,” said Peter. “No hypnosis. Just your special bunny ears. They made all those wonderful changes inside your head, just like they did with your two little friends, and the effects are totally permanent, baby girl. This is just a little bounce-back, that’s all. Jackie had hers yesterday, and Hazel had hers just before we arrived today. One final little burst of adulthood before it’s back to diapers forever.”
“No…” Melony whispered. But she could already feel it happening in her mind. Her head was getting fuzzy again. Soft and fuzzy. Like it was full of cotton candy. She shook her head fiercely. “No!” she shouted. Her face was burning with humiliation at the thought of being stuck as an adult-sized toddler for the rest of her life, being gawped at and cooed over by strangers, by her friends and family, by her lunatic of a boyfriend. “I’m not gonna be wike… like that forever!”
“I’m afraid there’s no going back now, baby,” Peter said gently. “If you had any last things you wanted to say as a grown-up, now’s the time, because in a few moments you’ll have the behaviours and intellectual level of a three-year-old.” He grinned. “But I’m going to treat you like you’re two.” He looked her over thoughtfully. “Oliver wanted a happy toddler girl who’s proud as a peach to sit on an oversized child’s potty and pee in it in front of a crowd,” he said. “Hazel was always so shy before, but now she’s quite the little exhibitionist, as I’m sure you’ve noticed! George just wanted to see Jackie transformed into a dim-witted baby, barely out of infancy, without a thought in her pretty little head. She was so smart before; I think George finds it funny that she’s now too dumb to even tell when she’s pooped her pants.”
Melony could only stare at her boyfriend in horror. It was getting harder and harder to hold her thoughts together, and there was another problem too – the rumbling in her tummy from earlier had changed into a different feeling, a fullness in her bottom. She clenched her rear tightly.
“But I wanted something a little different from both of them,” Daddy went on. Peter. His name was Peter, not Daddy. “I wanted the sweet spot; a girl who’s just mature enough to want to be out of diapers, but who has to wear them anyway. I think that would be perfect for you, Mellie.”
Mellie shook her head again, her lips forming a pout. “No!” she whined. Her head felt so empty. So light and fluffy. Fluffy like a bunny. “Don’t wanna… Don’t wike…” The pressure in her bottom was building, becoming impossible to control almost as quickly as it had first appeared.
“Go on, baby,” her boyfriend cooed. “Any last thoughts before it’s back to baby-land for good for big girl Melony?”
Mellie looked up into his eyes. A mixture of fear and anger and confusion burned in hers. “Gotta go poopy!” she blurted, and then bent her knees, screwed up her face, and started to poop her pants.
Above her, Daddy laughed. “That’s my little Mellie,” he cooed, patting her on the head. She let out a loud grunt and pushed a load into her nappy, quickly followed by a long gush of pee-pee. “That’s Daddy’s little stinker! Melony the big girl is all gone now, isn’t she? It’s just silly baby Mellie left, ready to spend the rest of Easter toddling around in a dirty diaper. Ready for a lifetime of loving cuddles and strict discipline from her Daddy. Finish up making your whoopsie, baby, then move that messy bum of yours out of the crib. Your big girl brains might have leaked out into your nappy, but Daddy hasn’t forgotten that you need a spanking!”
The End
***
If you want to read more evil stories about women being transformed into overgrown babies, I also post on SubscribeStar.
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sebengineer101 · 1 month
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Billie wears pull-ups at the 96th Oscar awards (2024)
Tumblr user @abdlcourtney has been making waves in the online community with their unique and controversial content featuring women and girls wearing diapers. Their latest post has caused quite a stir, as they shared photos of none other than Billie Eilish wearing a Chanel outfit with a pair of Huggies Drynites peeking out from under her skirt at the 2024 Oscars.
The photos, which were taken at the prestigious event where Billie was accompanied by her brother Finneas, Claudia Sulewski, Phoebe Bridgers, and Olivia Rodrigo, quickly went viral on social media. Many fans were shocked to see the usually edgy and rebellious singer sporting such a controversial accessory.
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@abdlcourtney, who is known for their ABDL (Adult Baby Diaper Lover) content, has a large following on Tumblr, where they regularly post photos and videos of women and girls wearing diapers in various settings. While some find their content disturbing and inappropriate, others see it as a form of self-expression and empowerment.
In the case of Billie Eilish, the photos sparked a heated debate among fans and critics alike. Some praised the singer for her bold fashion choice and for challenging societal norms, while others accused her of promoting inappropriate behavior and sexualizing young girls.
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Billie herself has not commented on the photos, but her fans have come to her defense, pointing out that she is known for her unique and boundary-pushing style. They argue that she should be free to express herself however she sees fit, without judgment or criticism.
Regardless of where you stand on the issue, one thing is clear: @abdlcourtney's photos have certainly sparked a conversation about the boundaries of fashion and self-expression. Whether you see it as art or exploitation, there's no denying that the images have made a lasting impression on those who have seen them.
As for Billie Eilish, she continues to push the boundaries of fashion and music, unapologetically being herself and refusing to conform to societal expectations. Whether she's wearing a pair of Huggies Drynites on the red carpet or rocking a bold new hairstyle, one thing is for sure: Billie Eilish is a force to be reckoned with in the world of entertainment.
In the end, it's up to each individual to decide how they feel about @abdlcourtney's controversial content and Billie Eilish's fashion choices. But one thing is certain: both are making waves in their respective fields and challenging the status quo in their own unique ways. Love it or hate it. There's no denying that they are both forces to be reckoned with in the world of art and entertainment.
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regressionschool · 19 days
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boys belong in diapers: The video
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As you watched the video for the first time, you couldn't help but chuckle nervously, thinking it must be some sort of elaborate prank. The scene depicted a woman effortlessly carrying a grown man on her hip, his legs kicking playfully in the air as she disposed of a visibly wet diaper with ease. With a triumphant smirk, she turned to the camera and declared, "It's time for us women to take back control and put boys back in their place – in diapers!"
Your initial reaction was one of disbelief, dismissing the video as nothing more than a bizarre internet sensation. But as the days passed, the image lingered in your mind, a nagging reminder of a reality that seemed too absurd to be true.
Your wife, on the other hand, had a vastly different response. From the moment she laid eyes on the video, she was captivated, nodding in agreement as the woman on screen asserted her dominance over the hapless man. "Finally," she exclaimed, her eyes alight with a newfound sense of purpose, "someone who understands how things should be."
You couldn't understand her enthusiasm, brushing off her newfound fascination as nothing more than a passing phase. But just two weeks later, you found yourself standing in front of the bathroom mirror, staring incredulously at your reflection as you wear your first adult diaper. #boysbelongindiapers
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coochiequeens · 4 months
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I've been posting regularly since the start of Covid. And I still wasn't prepared to start my day reading this headline.
By Shay Woulahan December 20, 2023
A trans-identified male has appeared in court after being accused of dumping soiled adult diapers outside a children’s nursery and stealing clinical waste bags. Abbi Taylor, born Martin Tarling, was also accused of hiding in a public bin with soiled diapers, smearing excrement on children’s milk bottles and removing items from a waste receptacle outside a nursery.
Taylor, 47, has been charged with 9 counts related to incidents that occurred between October 2022 and November 2023. The charges include four counts of dumping bags of toxic materials, namely diapers containing human waste, at nurseries in South Tyneside, an offense under the Environmental Protection Act.
Taylor also faces a charge of outraging public decency stemming from his entering a waste bin containing the feces of children.
At the time of the incidents, Taylor was under a criminal behavior order imposed by the Nottinghamshire Magistrates’ Court prohibiting him from being within 10 meters of a nursery without reasonable excuse, suggesting he had been caught conducting similar activity in the past.
Although court listings used the name Martin Tarling, the Chair of the Bench, John Lee, asked Taylor if he preferred to be addressed by his “feminine” name and the defendant agreed. Taylor didn’t enter into a plea at South Tyneside Magistrates’ Court and will appear in court again on January 16.
Though he attended his hearing at the South Tyneside Magistrates Court donning a full beard, Taylor was later described in the media as a “transgender woman.”
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Reduxx has located a social media profile believed to belong to Taylor which features extremely disturbing content. On the account, which is registered in Taylor’s location of Newcastle upon Tyne, a number of sexual animations depicting women and girls in diapers have been posted. The profile photo for the account shows an animated little girl sucking on a pacifier with the words “baby girl” written on her t-shirt.
Under a section offering alternative names and nicknames, Taylor says he also likes to be known as Baby Abbs, Little Princess, and Baby Girl.
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In his profile, Taylor describes himself as an “intersex female and an “ABDL little.” The acronym “ABDL” refers to the “Adult Baby Diaper Lifestyle” or “Adult Baby Diaper Lover” fetish, wherein adults are sexually aroused by acting or dressing as babies. The fetish is more formally known as paraphilic infantilism or “autonepiophilia.”
There is a noticeable overlap between men with autonepiophilia and men who identify as women, with a number of disturbing incidents involving gender confused males with diaper fetishes making headlines over the past year.
In April of 2022, a man from Helensburgh pleaded guilty to abusing two children by forcing them to entertain his fantasy of being a three-year-old girl named “Molly.” Stephen Cunningham repeatedly dressed up as a little girl in the presence of the two victims, including wearing adult diapers and providing the victims with pacifiers and baby bottles. He would shout offensive remarks at the children, and told one of the children he was an “adult baby.”
Cunningham also offered diapers for the minors to wear and sent them text messages describing his experiences of dressing up as “Molly.” He would also make references to standing in front of the child in a soiled diaper, asking them to buy him new ones.
Shortly after, a man in Swindon was sentenced to a 24-month community order after exposing himself to multiple teen girls. Andrew Keen, 41, was active in online sissy and crossdressing communities and posted YouTube videos of himself dressing in women’s clothing. Though he scrubbed his social media shortly after his arrest, Keen frequently interacted with transgender pornography and age regression accounts — including those pertaining to the “ABDL” community.
Earlier this year, Reduxx exclusively revealed that the transgender criminal whose pioneering legal case paved the way for violent males to be transferred into women’s prisons in the American state of New Jersey was a diaper fetishist.
Danielle Demers, who was convicted following an investigation by the FBI’s Joint Terrorism Task Force, proudly declares himself an “adult baby” and frequently interacts with other members of the fetishistic subculture online.
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spankingtheatre · 1 year
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Hello talented author, it’s me the 27-year-old woman.
I appreciate the ad you gave for the governess.
I’d like to make one more confession about my fantasies.
Aftercare. In terms of aftercare, the governess rubs cold cream onto my bare bottom after the spankings, whether in private or in front of hundreds of strangers. In addition, she sometimes wears red lipstick and plants kisses onto my bare bottom even if thousands looked. Sometimes, she’s rub my bare bottom as people stared.
Last but not least, should she suspect I stole something from a store or her, she may put me over her lap, bare my bottom and finger my bottom hole to determine if I’m hiding anything in there. She’ll do it even if thousands of people were watching.
During the times I’m wearing nothing but a diaper and a pacifier, she’ll reward me by letting me suck her breasts.
Dear author, I’m interested in being with such a woman. What apps do you suggest? In addition, what stories do you recommend reading that reflect such strict governesses and bratty adult women they usually spank?
That is all I wish to tell you.
I truly appreciate the job description you gave for the governess.
I see you appreciate the founding principle on which the relationship between a governess and her charge is based. Whatever a governess decides, happens, whether one is watching, or one hundred. A young lady soon learns to trust her governess, knowing that her strict discipline is for her own good.
For those who'd like to imagine themselves in a story with a strict governess, I'd recommend:
Punishment Panties
Ups and Downs
Runaway
Head Girl (especially part 3)
I think you might especially enjoy reading Afternoon Tea with the Governess, where she describes just how naughty girls are dealt with. Perhaps you'll imagine this as a conversation between your own new governess and her friend, and you're Emmeline, who's going to get a very well smacked bottom beside Cordelia in the very near future.
As for making all this real, and actually gaining a governess of your own, I believe that if we truly want something in our lives, we must be brave and take action, and attract it.
I don't have any experience of using apps for meeting people, as I've never used them. You could try Fetlife, but I've never used it to meet new people so can't vouch for its effectiveness. You might have to engage in lots of conversations to find someone you click with. The biggest challenge with making intimate connections is being found. If you're interesting, you increase the number and quality of those who encounter you - so why not create a very specific blog that reflects your interests? Like one dedicated to strict governess fantasies, for instance.
In the blog you can elaborate on your fantasies. You could even call it something like "Strict Governess Wanted" - and create imaginary adverts like the one I created, and write short stories to accompany them about what happened next. If you already have a blog and want to keep this interest separate, it could even be a side-blog.
Don't hide what makes you interesting. You write well, so why not give great people a chance to discover you, and who knows what might happen? DM me if I can help, it is, after all, a blog I'd quite like to read too.
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