#Understanding Bedwetting

[idiotsonlyevent]

(tags from @yakool-foolio)

Eito’s disorder is really interesting to talk about. A lot of it is dependent on what people personally get out of it, and that personal spin makes it honestly kinda hard to talk about without getting feelings involved.

Like, my own struggles with chronic pain lead me to a more “I’d eradicate it if I could” mentality that I see reflected in Eito that I vibe with. But I see others that find that kind of thinking bad because they view it more along the lines of something to accept and accommodate rather than seek to get rid of. Think of the broad ways we talk about mental illness vs neurodivergence. And because those avenues of thinking are based in lived experience usually, it’s hard to “argue” with an interpretation without it seeming personal.

In reality, there usually isn’t a straight up cure and so the accommodation route is more realistic in that sense. But idk, I don’t necessarily think it’s ableist or internalized ableism on Eito’s part that he wants his disorder gone either. It’s a very close to home feeling. It’s the age old “normalcy is a construct designed around productivity and the status quo but also id still have chronic pain in an ‘ideal utopia’ that I’d still probably want gone.” predicament. But that’s still a reading of his disorder very much influenced by my own life.

So I don’t begrudge or even disagree with other readings that are different. As I said, I just find it all very interesting.

[cryingatwindermerepeaks]

Little!Jackie - Defence

Credits for this go to the incredible anon who gave me the idea earlier today (we need to pick out an anon emoji for you if you’d like it!) and is set in the post crash au I’ve been writing about a bit recently (a name for the au itself is still pending) hope you guys enjoy!!

Notes -> little!jackie, cg!nat, post!crash au, agere, bed wetting, pull-ups, trauma, blood, very vague allusions to an eating disorder

Word count: 2078

They’d missed a lot of things while they were in the wilderness. Graduating, the release of the Nintendo 64, too many movies to count. Some things they couldn’t do much about - graduating was just something that wouldn’t be on the table for any of them. But god willing they could definitely catch up on some missed movies. Tonight, Matilda. Jackie had never been a big fan of movies, always finding herself distracted halfway through. She didn’t mind it too much right now though, too tired to do anything else and content sipping her hot chocolate on the couch squished up between Mari and Shauna. The hot chocolate was settling warmly in her stomach, and the mug she was very carefully holding in two hands was beginning to run out. Jackie didn’t usually have hot chocolate, before the crash she’d never have let herself touch the stuff, but now things like sugar and calories seemed to matter a lot less.

Deciding she could miss a few moments of Matilda, Jackie wiggled herself out from under the blanket she’d been sharing with the other girls. “Anyone else want a second cup?” She offered, wanting to use her best manners. There were a few mugs held out in her direction but as Jackie was reaching to grab them her eyes fixated on Tai and Van. They were sharing a look. The kind of look that made Jackie’s stomach ache with anxiety because she didn’t understand it but she knew it was about her.

“Jax, maybe that’s not a great idea,” Van suggested softly - though to Jackie her voice sounded to be just dripping with malice. Shame filled her body quickly, a burning sensation starting in her chest and spreading like wildfire till it was all she could feel. Her eyes started to water against her own volition. Jackie did not like what Van was insinuating. She hated that any of them knew about her… bedtime predicament, she hated even more that any of them thought they had the right to talk about it! She felt exposed, targeted - everyone’s eyes were on her. Stupid, she thought, stupid, stupid baby.

“I’m not a baby,” Jackie huffed, eyes contracting tightly in defiance as she tried her best to bare lazers right into Van. How could she? How could any of them even begin to think they knew anything about her or what she went through.

“Oh, Jackie, that’s not what I was-“ Van was trying to sweep in with a cleanup crew but it was too late. Jackie could feel the tears rolling down her cheeks and she just felt so mad!

“Who are you to tell me what I can do anyway?” She huffed, her fists tightening around the mug handles. “You’re just as stupid and pathetic,” she seethed. It felt like her whole body was shaking with anger. “I don’t need you to baby me! I’m not some stupid bedwetting baby like some people.” She didn’t mean it, not really, or maybe she did - Jackie wasn’t sure anymore. Everything just felt so fuzzy and painful. Her ears were ringing loudly, the same buzzing that filled her whole body. It was all too much. She wasn’t even looking at Van anymore, her eyes fixating on a random spot off in the distance. She stomped her foot, so they’d know just how angry she was with… well… everyone. It wasn’t enough. Her hands unclamped without a single warning, the mugs dropping to the floor and sending out a shattering crack which pulled Jackie out of her head enough to catch the cries coming from around the room. She let her eyes shift over hesitantly. Oh. She hadn’t meant for this to happen. Everyone was crying, or, if they weren’t crying, they looked like they were about to jump her. Even Shauna. Especially Shauna. Lottie was curled up on the floor, hands clamped over her ears, rocking back and forth. Jackie hadn’t meant for this to happen. Her heart hammered heavily in her chest, dread growing fast. She turned back to look at Tai and Van, hoping to find some of the parental sympathy she was used to. But nothing. They just look disappointed, maybe even disgusted. This was bad. Bad, bad, bad. Jackie was bad. Every part of her body ached with terror. She needed to get away, quickly, before they all realised just how truly awful she was and sent her away forever. Jackie ran right over the shattered ceramic on the living room floor, she didn’t care that it hurt. She just had to get out of there.

Jackie’s room was on the second floor, sandwiched between Shauna’s and Nat’s. At first she’d wanted to share with Shauna, but she’d very quickly become grateful that the other girl had insisted they needed their own space. Their own privacy. Jackie knew a thing or two about needing that right now. She dropped down onto her and slithered under her bed. It was gross and the dust clung to her shirt and clouded up in her face. Despite that - it was safe. She was safe. No one was going to find her here - no one could look at her, no one could yell at her, and no one could humiliate her. Jackie’s foot hurt, she couldn’t remember why, but it was suddenly the only thing she could think about and she was crying all over again. She felt pathetic, defeated. She could fight and kick and scream as much as she wanted but at the end of the day she was just tragic and boring and insecure. And everyone knew it. Jackie sucked in a heavy breath, pulling way too much dust into her mouth at the same time. She couldn’t stop crying - just confirming everyone’s suspicions about how much of a cry baby she was.

Jackie stayed under the bed even when her head hurt so much from crying she thought it might explode, her muscles ached from staying still and her foot still hurt. Just when she thought she might have to live under her bed like an ugly troll from a fairytale for the rest of her life, her bedroom door creaked open. Jackie craned her neck a little to look at who it was. Nat’s heavy work boots made a soft padding sound as they crossed Jackie’s hardwood floor. She watched as Nat quietly sat down beside the bed, leaning back against the bedside table with her knees tucked up to her chest. “Jax, you in here?” Nat called out, her voice soft and untelling of any anger. Not that Jackie was expecting anger from Nat, who hadn’t actually been there when everything had gone down. She must’ve only just got home from work, which meant it was 9:30 and Jackie was really supposed to be in bed by now. Jackie grumbled softly in response.

There was a moment of stillness where Jackie thought maybe she was just imagining Nat, but then she saw Nat’s hand, cold but safe, reaching out under the bed. She took it, because even if she did want to hide forever, she couldn’t help but ache for the comfort. “Van told me what happened. No one is mad at you, Jackie,” Nat explained softly, knowing instinctively where Jackie’s mind would go. “You gave everyone a fright and you used some not very nice words, which you’ll have to apologise for, but it doesn’t make you a bad kid.”

Jackie sniffled, using her hand that wasn’t holding Nat’s to wipe her face. “You don’t have to hide, ok? It’s safe to make mistakes here.” Nat squeezed her hand, trying desperately to ease the girl out from under her bed. “Will you come out so we can have some cuddles?” Nat offered, knowing how much of a sucker the regressed girl was for affection.

Jackie squirmed a bit under the bed, poking her head out from under the bottom of the covers. “Hey kid,” Nat smiled warmly.

“Hi,” Jackie mumbled back, keeping her eyes away from Nat’s. “Natty?”

“Yeah Jax?”

“Is there… something wrong with me?” Her voice wavered as she spoke, shame creeping into every syllable.

“Jackie…” Nat sighed, pain blooming in her chest for the younger girl. “No. No, there is nothing wrong with you,” she promised. Nat pulled Jackie’s hand up towards her, pressing a soft kiss to her knuckles. “There’s nothing wrong with having accidents, Sweetheart. Especially given everything you’ve been through.” Jackie wiggled out from under the bed at the reassurance. Her shoulders were pulled up tensely but she shuffled into Nat’s arms and once she was there she started to feel a little bit less like the world was ending.

Nat rearranged them carefully, pulling Jackie’s legs up into her lap so she could cradle her just like a real baby. That’s when she noticed the dark red spot blaring against Jackie’s white sock. “Shit, what happened here, Jax?” Jackie looked down, suddenly realising why her foot had been hurting. Oh. Memories of the smashed mugs came back to her and Jackie started to feel pressure build up behind her eyes all over again. “Hey, hey, it’s ok,” Nat bounced Jackie on her knee as she used a hand to tug the sock off. Inspecting the injury, Nat tutted. “Just a little cut, nothing we can’t fix up with a Band-Aid.”

“Can I pick which one?” Jackie asks hopefully.

“Yeah, ‘course you can.”

Nat picked Jackie up - which was not easy considering they were roughly the same size. But she didn’t complain, not one bit, and it made Jackie feel safe. “Of course you don’t have to walk, princess, you’ve got an owie and I get to look out for you.” Nat sat Jackie down on the edge of the bathtub before opening up the bathroom cabinet and pulling out a couple boxes of kids bandaids. She held them out to Jackie, letting the smaller girl pick the ones she wanted. After a moment of deliberation, a good distraction while Nat wiped the blood away, Jackie’s decided on a Band-Aid with Belle on it. “Why’d you pick her?” Nat asked, as she placed the Band-Aid over the little cut.

“She ‘meminds me of Shaunie,” Jackie explained. Then, she paused, fresh tears appearing in her eyes. “Shauna mad?”

“Oh Jackie…” Nat sighed, cupping Jackie’s cheeks in her hands. “Shauna isn’t mad at you. No one is, ok? We all love you very much.”

“Lot was cryin’ tho, an’ I said mean things to Van,” Jackie hiccuped between tears.

Nat pulled herself up onto the edge of the bathtub and sat beside Jackie. “She did, and you did. But that doesn’t mean they don’t love you. You’re tired, Sweetheart, you didn’t mean it.” Jackie sucked in a harsh breath, she was tired. Nat wrapped an arm around her shoulder. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.“

-

Jackie couldn’t find it in herself to care when Nat reached straight for the drawer where she’d been silently leaving the pull-ups for months now. She did insist that Nat turn around while she changed, but Nat was already doing that anyway so the demand died on her tongue.

“I never got another cup of hot choc’late,” Jackie mumbled with a soft pout once she was tucked in tightly under her blankets. Nat laughed softly, brushing a hand through Jackie’s hair.

“Sippy cup or bottle?”

“Bottle.”

Nat left and returned not too long after with one of the baby bottles (unofficially they were Lottie’s but she never minded sharing) filled with warm hot chocolate. “Here you go kid, drink up.” Jackie beamed - reaching for the bottle with both hands and eagerly bringing it to her lips. Nat went to turn out the lights and suddenly Jackie felt like crying all over again.

“Stay?” She asked sheepishly - guilt trickling in at the request as she knew Nat probably just wanted to get out of her work clothes and go to bed. But Nat didn’t complain. She switched off the light and crossed back over to Jackie’s bed.

“Sure thing Princess,” She hummed as she flicked on the soft fairy lights that were wrapped around Jackie’s bed frame. Jackie shuffled over and Nat slipped onto the edge of the bed, wordlessly taking the bottle into her own hands so Jackie could focus on cuddling her stuffed bunny, Alice, to her chest. “Goodnight Jax,” Nat whispered softly.

“Ni ni Natty,” Jackie yawned, moments before she slipped off to sleep.

[finsubbybedwetter]

Good afternoon, please have a seat. I am an administration officer acting under the authority of the Male Reproductive Rights Reform Act. You are here today to receive official notice that your MRRRA standing has been lowered to Restricted/Developmentally-impaired in response to the recent update in your medical history.

Please confirm for the record that you recently reported a bedwetting episode to you doctor. Thank you. I presume that you were not aware that male adult bedwetting has recently been reclassified as a prohibitive developmental impairment. Yes, we are aware that you only reported a single incident. However, as your medical records indicate that you experienced frequent bedwetting throughout your teens, we consider this episode to be indicative of relapse into chronic, habitual bedwetting, which is grounds for immediate corrective action.

You have been enrolled into the Adult General Urinary Incontinence Correction Program at a male remedial facility. More commonly referred to informally as the toilet training program. Yes, we understand that you have no history of full incontinence, but as bedwetting was only recently recognized as a prohibitive condition, we do not currently have a remedial program more specific to your needs. Also, studies have shown that daytime wetting is disproportionately common and often under-reported in bedwetters. We believe this program will be a good fit for you.

You will undergo corrective therapy and continuous assessment over a six week period. The corrective component of the program consists of hypnotherapy and severe negative reinforcement. You will be diapered at all times during your stay at the facility, and fitted with a moisture-sensing alarm to ensure accurate record keeping of wetting incidents for assessment and disciplinary purposes. I believe you had some experience with this kind of alarm in your teens so this should be quite familiar to you. Yes, you will be diapered at all times, not only for bed. Please understand that program rules do not permit us to make any exceptions for your case.

Bathroom visits will be restricted to a fixed schedule and fluid intake will be managed to ensure that you receive an accurate assessment. In order to keep our assessment false positive rate within MRRRA guidelines, the bathroom schedule and fluid intake minimums have been tuned to be challenging for an adult male with average bladder control and extremely challenging for impaired individuals such as yourself. We have also found that stressing program participants in this way boosts the efficacy of the negative reinforcement component of the program.

At the conclusion of the program, your assessment results will be reviewed by committee and you will be prescribed assessment outcomes. Outcomes vary widely. The more severe outcomes include permanent revocation of reproductive rights, castration, gender reassignment, and in instances involving developmental impairment such as yours, revocation of legal adulthood.

Should you receive a favorable assessment, your standing will be lifted to Qualified-unrestricted/Developmentally-impaired. Yes that's correct - your diagnosis as an adult bedwetter is permanent and thus will be reflected in your public record regardless of assessment result. A favorable assessment only indicates that you are not currently experiencing symptoms. Also, please be aware that current and future employers and sexual partners, if any, will be notified of your condition. Though, having seen your file it looks like you won't need worry about that second part..

That concludes this proceeding. When you leave this office you will be escorted to the facility for induction. Your assessment period has already begun. I hope I don't have to tell you that any non-compliance will reflect extremely poorly.

Alright, now that that's done and we're off the record, I can finally be honest with you. You're fucked. I've sent dozens of pissy-pants virgins just like you through this program, and you know what? You losers always come out more pathetic than you went in. Right now you're just a bedwetter, but in six weeks time you're going to be a stuttering, subservient, diaper-dependent sissy. You want my advice? Don't fight it. Forget about "favorable assessment". Forget about ever losing your virginity. Think of this as six weeks to adjust to your new life.

[agerexmlmboys]

The "Worst" Wolverine

Regressor!Logan x Caregiver!Wade

(Slight Spoilers for Deadpool and Wolverine, also TW!Bedwetting)

Logan knew he was bad, that he wasn't any good. He had been the reason why there were no X-Men in his universe after all. That was why he deserved it. He deserved to never be little again. That was his self-imposed punishment. Though just because Logan's little mind had justified it, it didn't mean he really accepted it.

Logan's little brain reached out and was ecstatic at Papa Wade, taking him away from his scary, lonely, and bleak reality.

Logan went along if only to see what Wade wanted and definitely not because his mind was currently screaming out at him to leave this place.

That was until Wade took him to see Mobius. Tears welled in his eyes as it hurt to hear the confirmation that he was the worst. Logan's big mind had started to crack.

"He's The Worst Wolverine!"

His eyes closed, and instead of him fighting, Logan had started to cry. Even worse, his body decided that now would be the best time to finally regress and let loose. His bladder releasing itself infront of everyone in the room. The very action causing him to cry even more.

Though luckily or unluckily, Logan wakes up from the ever-present nightmare close to Wade.

Good news, it was a dream! Bad news he was soaked.

His eyes welled with tears looking down out of shame, causing Wade to snap into action.

"Shhhh, Shhh, Papa's right here, Wolvie!" Wade had hushed Logan, rubbing soothing circles into the little's back.

The comfort felt so good, but he couldn't accept it, Logan didn't deserve it he was the Worst Wolverine, He waa bad, he was dirty, he wasn't good.

Logan's tears fell harder as his words flew out of his mouth.

"No!"

He started his ramble while putting his hands weakly against Wade.

"I... I..... Mmmm' Bad"

He wailed, forcing Wade to hold him tight.

"Mmm, da worsee one. I bad, I can' be a baby"

He weakly admitted as he looked forlornly down.

"An I can' keep m'self dry. Bad babies can' have papas."

Wade held Logan tightly, ignoring the wetness he looked at Logan and uplifted him.

"I disagree. You're a good baby! You're my good innocent baby. "

(Weakly)Wade sat his heavy 300lbs toddler on his lap. Wiping tears from Logan's eyes he continued his speech

"You will always be my good baby! You'll never be bad in my eyes, you deserve to be happy and smile!"

He says as he kisses his forehead.

Logan's tears had dried as he looked at Wade, wanting to believe his Papa's words but still had that empty feeling he was wrong for wanting this.

"Bu-Bu,"

"No BUTS, no little of mine is gonna talk about themselves like that."

Wade says booping Logan on the nose.

"And I think it's time for me to get you cleaned up Wolvie."

Logan felt reserved and was about to protest until a suspiciously red and black paci found its way into his mouth. The paci quelling the negative thoughts he had Logan looked needily at Wade.

Wade looked at Logan, understanding the need for him. Having calmed down enough, Logan's mind had mellowed out to the idea of being with Wade, and though not entirely open to letting his little side drop, he resigned to let himself be taken care of. Just this once.

[littleakito]

ᶻz ˙ 🍌🐟

⁺ 　　 ﹒　 　say something, dude !　　 ﹒　 　 ⁺

˚﹒🍌𖥔﹒pretty layout, question mark? hehehe, hiii everyone, here’s some agere ash lynx + eiji okumura hcs for you all~ ﹒ apologies for my lack of content, hopefully i can get back to posting a bit more !

TRIGGER WARNING FOR MENTIONS OF SEXUAL ABUSE, UNSAFE REGRESSION, WEAPONS, ETC.

🌨️　⋯ Aslan suffered severe sexual injuries and abuse as a kid, regression would have been quite common for him, even if he didn’t quite realize it in the moment. Due to the extent of his injuries and abuse, I believe Aslan would have suffered from extreme nightmares, along with bedwetting. This trait followed him even when he was a teenager, and tends to invoke panic and distress within him. As a regressor, I believe he would be quite dependant on being padded, both due to frequent accidents, and due to general discomfort around others whilst in such a vulnerable state. Being padded allows for him to have a barrier, some sort of protection from people, and I do genuinely believe it would help him be more comfortable around those that care for him.

🍌　⋯ Regarding those that care for him, I believe Eiji wouldn’t have been the first to know, but would have been the first to open the possibility of safe regression to him. For it to be a coping mechanism rather than a defence mechanism. Even if he didn’t completely understand, Ash Lynx was someone who deserved a moment of peace. At first, I believe Aslan would have disagreed with him — that there are far more important things he could tend to in his free time, safer places he could be and safer people Eiji could take care of, smarter choices the boy could make. But after a troubling nightmare and an oceans worth of tears, being held close by the one person that cherishes you doesn’t sound all that bad, does it?

🐟　⋯ Aslan’s mental age whilst regressed varies, but typically he finds himself in between the ages of 0 - 6, leaning towards the younger scale. Despite being so young at times, relying on others is terrifying, knowing you live somewheres where danger can be cast upon you at any point in time is terrifying, knowing that you, yourself are a danger is terrifying. So, no matter how old Aslan feels, he tends to try and be independent, which is, typically, a major fail. Any small, simple accidents always result in tears from the boy, which are always hushed and wiped away by Eiji.

🌨️　⋯ Bedtime stories and stories in general are this little one’s favourite activity by far! I personally believe he would lean towards more “adult” books in terms of literacy, but always be a bit upset at the lack of fun, pretty pictures. He enjoys reading to himself more than having Eiji read to him (especially given Eiji’s understanding on the English language being only partial), but always is soothed by it regardless.

🍌　⋯ Aslan enjoys toying around with dangerous weapons and objects when regressed, its second nature to him at this point. Flipping around pretty knives and batting at the trigger on his gun like a little kitty cat is fairly normal for him. Not so much for his caregiver though. All of his weapons end up getting confiscated. This boy is an evil mastermind at getting what he wants when he wants it, however. He’s — somehow — even more stubborn when regressed, and can put on some insane puppy dog eyes to convince absolutely anyone and everyone. Should he receive an unexpected “No”, Aslan pouts and whines for his caregiver till they give in to his little pleas. (The only time this doesn’t apply is when his begging and sniffling is for a harmful weapon, upsettingly for him.)

🐟　⋯ Eiji only really began regressing after becoming a victim, once he reached Ash’s arms and felt his heart reading against his own, he felt himself collapse mentally, and immediately started whining in a language Ash didn’t understand. It was more of an irregular, unofficial thing until Ash proposed the idea of taking care of Eiji, too.

🌨️　⋯ When regressed, Eiji tends to speak in Japanese as opposed to the puzzling, unfamiliar English. This often poses a problem with whoever he’s speaking with (typically Ash), as they cannot understand a word the boy speaks! The two tend to communicate via brief signs and gestures, however, when things become too difficult to figure out, Ash has to ask ever-so politely for his little one to at the very least write down what he’s feeling. This is always returned with a big pout, a turned head, and his arms crossed.

🍌　⋯ Little Eiji has a strong desire to want to help out, to not feel as if he’s burdening those around him, to want to be something Ash needs just as much as Eiji needs him. So, whenever he can, he whines and pouts until he’s given something to hold, or something to do for his caregiver. Unfortunately, the boy tends to have a hard time holding onto things, walking, standing, the works! So, more often than not, the tasks he’s given end in something broken, a new booboo, and an embarrassing amount of tears and sniffles.

🐟　⋯ When regressed, Eiji makes a big fuss about Ash trying his food for him first, simply to torment him — especially when it’s for foods he knows his caregivers despises (natto). Ash typically sucks it up, eats a little teeny tiny bit of the food, and tries to put on a sweet act afterwards; still, he ends up whining more than the actual baby beside him over the food.

🌨️　⋯ While he doesn’t have them as frequently as Ash, when regressed, Eiji tends to have small, irregular accidents. More often than not due to nightmares, the trauma he, himself sustained, and the general sickening dread of being away from home. Whilst Ash wouldn’t tease him about needing to be padded whilst he’s little, he sure as hell makes it a point to poke fun at him for it when they’re both big — the same way Eiji does to him. Little Eiji always tends to get really mad and stubborn when such a topic is presented to him.

🍌　⋯ When regressed, Eiji can occasionally be extremely hyperactive, he bounces off of the freaking walls! He frequently enjoys jumping around on the couch, the bed, and, unfortunately, onto poor ol’ Ash.

DNI banner reads: “NSFW DNI”

[mariacallous]

So, my understanding of the past three weeks of drama is: Biden had a subpar debate, the MSM went in for the kill (mocking his age and even insinuating he had Parkinson's), and bedwetting Democrats in Congress said they wanted him to step down over "concerns" about his age.

Only for it to now be revealed that backstabbing Democrats were actually being extorted by Tom Strickler, the founder of Hollywood talent agency WME (who represents multiple members of the MSM), and other elite money donors who were threatening to withhold donations.

The exact same elite donors who were pressing Biden to drop Harris back in 2023.

And, at the same time, "former" Republican Steve Schmidt (the guy who gave us Sarah Palin) has been using his Pass the Torch super PAC money (that also gave us Dean Phillips) to pressure the backstabbers into going public against Biden.

Which means that not only was this all about Harris, as we suspected, but the backstabbing Democrats lied to their constituents that this was about them being concerned about Biden's age. They sold out their voters for their donors.

Girl, people need to be calling their electeds.

I don't know that it was necessarily coordinated and planned like that from the start, but it's rather Striking how many people are insistent on Change and on Alternatives but never really bring up the one person who would most likely be legally allowed to access the donations raised by the current campaign and who has the only true legitimate claim

[bitsybunbun]

Asks: 🙈😇😫😳

🙈- Uh-oh, you couldn't hold it. When you fantasize about having an accident, do you think about having it unprotected, inadequately protected, or perfectly protected?

Usually I daydream about having unprotected accidents and being forced into padding 🥵 In real life I much prefer being perfectly protected when I have accidents though

😇- You may look innocent on the outside, but something tells me you've got a naughty streak. What kinds of funishment do you like?

So many! Spanking, denial, adult privileges taken away, predicament bondage, language restriction, humiliation, and more! I enjoy a wide variety of pain play as well!

😫- How embarrassing! Do you like to be humiliated? What gets you the most embarrassed?

I love humiliation, it is the core of 90% of my fantasies! I think my most embarrassing moments have been accident related, whether it be bedwetting or unexpectedly losing control at inopportune moments. I also get very blushy about having my intelligence reduced hypnotically, being taunted for being helpless, or not being able/allowed to talk!

😳- It's time for you to be regressed! How do you want it to happen? Fast? Forced? Magically? Slowly? Covertly? Hypnotically?

A slow, forced slide into regression is what excites me the most! I love the idea of hypnotically or magically having grown up abilities stripped away piece by piece to my dismay and humiliation, forever grateful to my cg for being understanding and caring, all the while not realizing that they're the one doing it to me in the first place. They're firm when they insist I wear diapers, use a pacifier, crawl, but it's always presented as all for my safety, since I've gotten so clumsy and orally fixated and even more accident prone. Soon they have me totally helpless and dependent on them and diapers, playing with my hypnotic triggers and enjoying their mindless bb 😵‍💫

From my Emoji Asks 🌻🧡

[mollymason-abdl]

Did you ever date vanilla guys? If so how did you approach telling them you wear? Was it ever an issue with your bedwetting?

I’ve dated vanilla guys way back like first boyfriend kinda things just to make sure I was actually not cut out for vanilla life. I think those lasted about a week. I just need that additional excitement within a relationship where someone understands my freaky 🤣 I really don’t think at this point in my life I could ever date a vanilla 🤷🏼‍♀️ the only vanilla guy I shared a bed with, I peed on him the first night and the next morning we woke up, I apologized and he said ‘ngl, that was hot’ soooo whoops. He probably has a raging piss kink now.

[yjdrabbles123]

Any headcannons about cg Van and little Mel and Mel’s accidents? Not sure if you already did Them.

Thank you for the ask!

-So Mel definitely struggles the most with accidents. Like Lottie, Jackie and Nat all have bedwetting problems but Mel has trouble in the day too and mostly it’s from anxiety: she’s too anxious to tell anyone she needs to go, she thinks she should be able to hold it, she hates drawing attention to herself or inconveniencing anyone by asking people to delay things and….yeah. That leads to accidents. -Super embarrassed about it, like to the point of doing everything she can to hide it and deny it and then collapsing in tears. She doesn’t get mean or lash out over it when she’s embarrassed (unlike Jackie who absolutely does) but she’s so, so hard on herself over it. -Especially embarrassing because she’s not even got the childhood-trauma thing of Lottie and Nat. -Doesn’t get teased for it (no one would really let that happen) but Shauna, if having a bad day, can be a little mean about it sometimes and that leads to Tai having some Very Serious talks with her. -Much prefers Van helping her than anyone else: Van is the only one she’ll seek out for help and even then it’s rare, and more common that Van just intuits there’s a problem and deals with it. Like if they’ve had a long car journey and Melissa won’t get out of the car or runs off suddenly while playing or has a mysterious bundle of stuff she’s trying to hide, that’s Van’s cue to step in. -Van is super gentle and understanding about it, she always takes a very lowkey no big deal approach to it (because it ISNT a big deal) but to Mel, it always feels like the end of the world.

-Even with Van, she’s resistant to asking for help: she’d rather sleep all night on a bare, cold mattress than go to Van for help getting fresh sheets. Van has found her all teary and cold and exhausted in a little huddle on her bedroom floor on more than one morning and usually deals with it by scooping Mel up and tucking her into her and Tai’s bed while she re-makes Melissa’s bed for her.

[8-rae-rae-8]

Hi, idk if you remember me, but I'm back again with more questions about age regression. I'm seriously thinking about writing it, but I want to make sure I have actual information. Most of the information I've found through google searches (after all of the AI bullshite) seems a bit... infantilizing.

If my questions are bothersome, pls let me know!

1) How does someone who has regressed come back? More so, the after care for it all. Is it a gradual thing like subspace (not trying to sexualise, just the closest example I remember at the moment)? Or is it like, a sudden thing?

2) What are some people's general reaction towards it? Obviously I can guess a good majority, but it would be nice to hear your thoughts in case I didn't think of something.

3) I know everybody's experience is different, but what are some common traits in age regression?

-🦴

I got you anon

Honestly, a lot of it will be infantalizing because people view it as something gross and to be talked down about and "fixed"

You can filter out AI in searches by saying fuck (or any curse word) btw

1) though I hate the comparison, it's sort of like that. Some people might need reassurance they weren't annoying, they might need time alone, they might want to just relax. It can happen suddenly, especially if it's involuntarily regression. After all, a lot of people regress as a symptom of trauma and the brain likes to act weird. A lot of people regress alone, some have caregivers or babysitters. Personally, I regress for a long time and going to sleep or napping is usually the only way I can make it go away (involuntarily reaction to stress)

2) In the community, relatively good reactions!! There will always be that group that says you need a "valid" reason (don't listen to them). People who don't know what it is won't understand easily, but that might be my experience. It's mostly confusion, until you can explain and a lot of people will want sources about what it is and how it works.

3) "baby talk" (simpler words), lower emotional regulation, struggling with fine motor skills, simpler thinking, crying, needing comfort items, rocking, verbal shutdown, struggling with basic tasks, nightmares, bedwetting. Personally, I experience verbal shutdown (mostly "mhm"s and "nuhuh"s), comfort items, I need a pacifier so I don't chew my lips raw, my head gets cloudy but also lighter, but I'm more prone to emotional reactions at smaller things

Article

If anyone wants to explain better, feel free!

[skydensen]

All you need

Little!Kieran Duffy and Cg!Mary-Beth short fic

Word count: 1533

Cw: mentions of trauma, nightmares, bedwetting

Maybe it was all the trauma he had sadly obtained from being with the O’driscolls for all those years, but it wasn’t exactly easy to make Kieran Duffy cry, despite his weak-ish or anxious demeanor it wasn’t something that happened often at all, at least not in normal circumstances

This day had started differently though, the problem began with the awful nightmare he had, which included his parents, Colm O’driscoll and his awful days riding with that gang. Kieran had woke up trembling, scared for his life, forgetting that he wasn’t riding with them anymore, which he was very thankful for. He breathed deeply for about a minute, calming himself and his heart-rate after his awful bad dream.

But after the unfortunate nightmare he had, things only got worse, he quickly noticed the familiar wet sensation in his sleeping clothes, which made him grow anxious and worried, a big frown was on his face now, he couldn���t understand why this was happening so often, why was it happening again?

He felt his eyes starting to sting, the tell-tale warning of the fact that tears were starting to slowly make his way out of his small and tired green eyes, he was trying his best to hold them in, he was trying his best to not appear weak, what if someone heard? What if someone saw? They would all make fun of him.

**he couldn’t cry, men didn’t cry**

He really tried his best not to cry, but for some reason it was all too much this time, he couldn’t even see clearly as the tears just came out at once, he was completely defeated, he felt weak, vulnerable, and most importantly he felt so small, so helpless right now.

“Kieran?” A voice echoed near him, a familiar voice.

“Is that you?” The voice asked

“I’m.. uh..” he stuttered, he tried his best to speak through the tears but it was impossible.

Kieran was just behind one of the tents, trying his hardest to stop his crying and stop what was happening, trying his best to hide his shame and his accident, but just then Mary-Beth saw him face to face, he couldn’t pretend anymore, his tears just wouldn’t stop no matter what.

“Kieran, are you okay?” She asked, a strong look of concern on her face, she looked very distraught, as if the crying had startled her and woken her up.

“I-m..” Kieran couldn’t do anything but blurt out small words, he wasn’t feeling like himself right now, he felt so small right now, he felt incapable of doing anything, and his crying made attempting to speak so hard.

Mary-Beth quickly went over and put her hand in Kieran’s cheek, her hand getting a little wet as the stream of tears continued. She couldn’t quite understand what was happening, she had just woken up after all and she hadn’t noticed Kieran’s headspace or the stain in his pants

“Kieran?” She asked once again, looking directly into Kieran’s small eyes, she was really concerned, and Kieran’s lack of speech only made the situation more worrying, she was really trying to understand what was happening.

“Did you hurt yourself? Should I call some-“

“N-no” Kieran interrupted, it was the only clear word he had said in all this time, he sounded scared and anxious.

Mary-Beth was surprised by the loud rejection from Kieran, but she quickly understood he didn’t want anyone else to find him like this, perhaps it was the crying, it was normal for men to not want to appear weak in front of anyone, much less other men.

Kieran kept crying, for some reason the tears just wouldn’t stop, he wanted them to stop, he wanted to run, he wanted to hide and never be seen again, and he also wanted to be held, to be comforted and to be told everything was going to be okay.

Mary-Beth patted Kieran’s back, trying her best to calm him down and understand the situation clearly, she thought of a few reasons he could be crying, maybe it was all the stress from being mistreated by the whole gang? Maybe it was a normal occurrence for him to just cry his eyes out when no one was seeing? She didn’t know him that well and it could be the case, just as she was thinking she noticed the clear wet spot in Kieran’s pants, she couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, she knew it was embarrassing for something like this to happen, and it could turn even worse if one of the guys at camp found out about this, Kieran would never hear the end of it.

She wanted to help, she wanted to make sure Kieran would be okay despite the embarrassing circumstances, it was definitely concerning how much this has affected Kieran, she wondered if this was a normal thing to happen or if there was another reason why this was causing Kieran to behave like this.

“It’s alright” she said, her voice just above a whisper, while looking at Kieran’s eyes

Kieran looked at her with his tear filled eyes and quivering lips, he was so lost in his mind right now, only small sniffles and sobs were heard from him for now.

“I’ll help you, we wouldn’t want anyone to find this out, would we? ” she whispered, and offered her hand to help Kieran up.

Kieran just stared at her, too frightened to make any move, he then proceded to stare at Mary-Beth’s hand for a while, his body mostly immobile until he slowly started to move his hand towards Mary-Beth’s

Mary-Beth in return chuckled softly, taking on the initiative before Kieran could react and reaching for his hand quickly to help him up, making Kieran sloppily stand up

“Oh Kieran, we gotta get you cleaned up before anyone sees, c’mon” she murmured, trying to be quiet so she didn’t wake up anyone.

“Let’s walk this way, the river should be very close-“ Mary-Beth froze as she heard footsteps coming close.

Kieran trembled very hard as he heard the footsteps, he held onto Mary-Beth’s shoulder, basically hiding behind her, he was very anxious about what could happen right now.

“Oh, it’s you Mary-Beth” Hosea spoke, yawning and raising one eyebrow as he looked at the sight of Kieran hiding behind Mary-Beth, he was confused.

“Y-yeah Hosea, me and Kieran were just going to take a look at the horses, you know how much he likes looking after them” she stuttered, trying her best to not seem suspicious.

“Mmhm, he seems to be acting… strange, sure everything is okay, Mary?” Hosea asked, his tone slightly suspicious.

“Yeah, yeah… just, you know, gotta look after the O’driscoll and make sure he doesn’t betray us or nothin’” She laughed, a fake laugh as she said the quickest excuse she could think of.

“Yeah, that makes sense, see you later, Mary”

Hosea waved as he walked away

“See you later, Hosea” Mary-Beth replied just before looking back at Kieran, who was still trembling, with a few tears in his eyes still.

Mary-Beth grew even more concerned at the sight, she knew Kieran could be a nervous type of guy, but never this much, it wasn’t normal for him to be this panicked, and it definitely wasn’t normal for him to not say a word in this whole time.

“Kieran, look at me, what’s going on?” She asked, her face full of concern

Kieran started crying even more as he was asked the question, he looked at Mary, he felt so ashamed and so helpless because of his situation, he never wanted anyone to find out and it was happening just now, he felt like he was disappointing Mary-Beth, like she was gonna hate him for the rest of her life because of this, he felt like a failure, and all of his emotions felt so much more powerful than they usually did, he couldn’t answer even if he tried.

Mary-Beth looked even more concerned, she felt guilty now, had she made Kieran cry? That wasn’t her intention at all, she was trying to help, to get to the bottom of the situation and help Kieran as best as she could, she didn’t want him to feel bad for whatever was happening.

“Oh Kieran, I didn’t mean to make you to cry” she said sincerely, right as she went to hold him, hugging him gently as she started making shushing noises, trying her best to calm him down.

Kieran quietly gasped at the sudden comforting embrace, but he took it without hesitation, he needed it, and he was enjoying it so much, despite the fact he was still crying he was feeling much better than before, being hugged felt so good right now, it truly felt like it could cure any wrong that was once in him. He felt like he was being cured from a sickness that was nonexistent, he felt…. Cared for.

“Let’s go take care of washing your clothes, maybe later we can speak about this” she said softly, smiling at Kieran as she realized his tears were slowly stopping and his trembling had mostly stopped.

“You just needed a hug”

[bambinotattoo]

New story prologue and chapter 1

Ericas diaper plan

Prologue

Erica White was an only child to her parents Karen and Jim. They lived in a sleepy southwest Va town, Rainbow forest. The kinda place everyone grew up and old together, morals were strong, and everyone tried to be a community.

Now, Erica has had a pretty big secret all her life. Her family knew quite well, her best friend Sara Beth Hawkins and her parents Doug and Elizabeth knew as well. Small chance that a few stragglers over the years heard or thought they knew something…but not really.

Erica is a life long bedwetter. She’s never been able to make it consistently through the night with a dry bed. Now for most little girls, that woman be traumatic, and emotionally damaging. Well, Erica, is a little different. She absolutely loved bedtime because that’s when she would get to climb her changing table and have Mommy (sometimes Daddy) get her all snug in a disposable Pampers diaper every night. Her earliest memories are of climbing that table and getting diapered. And her Parents have loads of stories of her pouring and whining in the mornings to be cleaned and put into a new diaper.

They didn’t think much of it when she was younger, called it a phase, or whatever and the majority of the time appeased her on weekends, summers, etc. She loved being babied and diapered. So much so that when she would have sleepover at Sara Beth’s, her parents kept a diaper station just for her.

Erica was diapered every night, and wore them often all through her childhood. Her parents kept thinking she would grow out of it, and it seemed as if it was going in the opposite direction. So as she was turning 11, her parents decided to have a conversation about growing up, and leaving some things in the past.

“Erica, sweetheart. You’re starting to get older now…and it’s time you start doing some more things for your self as well, starting to act more your age.”

Erica felt attacked, and didn’t know where any of this was coming from. But she did recognize the legitimacy of their argument.

“We’re going to stop diapering you at night. And you’re going to start wearing goodnights. As well, no more being diapered all the time, you’re not a baby.”

“Really?!?” Erica said with a snap. Marking the first time she snapped at her parents.

“Not with that tone, Missy”.

Erica began to turn red and had visabke tears rolling down her cheeks. Her parents had no idea this would be so hard on her. They helped calm her down and again brought home the idea that it’s time to start growing up.

Erica was told to go to her room, and get herself ready for bed. Already in her bedroom was a pack of goodnights waiting for her. She turned her nose up at them and decided that since there weee still a few stacks of Pampers, she was going to use them. So she slide down her sweatpants, laid a diaper out on her bed and sat on it. She had watched herself get changed so much that she was already a pro. While getting the last tape fastened she heard her door knob begin to turn, and heard the soft voice of her mother.

“Erica, how’d we do? May I see?”

Erica laying in her bed, nothing but a shirt and pamper on froze. Couldn’t even muster up, “no, give me a second”. As her door swung upon she felt the redness again warm up her face.

“Wait, that’s not…Erica…what did we just say?”

“I, I, I…”

“Do you like wearing diapers that much Erica? Is this more than a bedwetting cure for you? What is with the diapers?”

To much at once emptied her head and opened her tear ducts. She couldn’t do anything but cry in her mom’s arms. Karen feeling a little bad thinking she attacked her daughter and bombarded her with stuff she couldn’t process yet began to cry and hold her.

“I’m sorry sweetie, I don’t understand this, and I don’t think you do either. Where your diaper tonight, and we’ll work on getting you in your goodnights, ok?”

“Ok mom”

As the days/weeks/months turned, her parents slowly got their way. Her changing table was removed, no more Pampers and only Goodnights. Erica hates the Goodnights. She was a heavy wetter and once or twice a week she would have wet spots on her bed from leaks. She was also growing, and going back to baby diapers was no longer an option. Erica over the last few months had been getting more freedoms and unmonitored access to the internet and had found the plethera of ABDL, TBDL, etc all over…as well, ABDL diapers. Which she was magnetized to try.

She had brainstormed and plotted ways to bring up these fancy diapers in a way that didn’t make her parents question her wants/desires as they had done before. And every scenario, sounded worse than the last. Her mother was aware that the goodnights weren’t keeping up, and consulted with her friend and high school nurse Ms. Jasmine. To which Ms Jasmine recommended youth sized Molicares. Karen wasn’t keen on the idea of her daughter going back into diapers, but also didn’t know what else to do.

A decision was made to fit Erica’s bed with plastic sheets and extra protection instead of a thicker more appropriate diaper. And that was the reality for Erica, atleast until right before her freshman year of high school. That is when something in the air changed, the winds switched and all that was going the way of Karen and Jim would make a mighty left turn.

Chapter 1–Did you just wet your pants Erica?

Summer was winding down, the days shortening, and Erica and Sara Beth were excited about finally being in high school. The two have talked about being high school cheerleaders, softball players, the prom, and every other right of passage young men and women have have exploited and grown up with.

The two had specifically filled out the class schedule requests together in hopes they would get a similar if not exact schedule together. The day was finally here when the mail man dropped off the packets from the school. Along with conduct policies and supplies lists.

The two hurriedly acquired their envelopes and began ripping them open. Excitedly:

“Okay, Erica, let’s se how we did!”

“Home room, is Mrs Fischer!” “Yes”

::high five:: one for one.

“First period Algebra” Erica whispered.

With a solemn gasp Sara B said

“First Algebra, that’s 2/2 babe”

“Yes”. “Okay, second world History, third Earth Science!”

“World History, Earth Science…yup yup”

“Oh man, this is crazy!! Fourth French 1”

“Fourth Econ…first miss”

“What lunch are you?, I’m second”

“Same here second lunch.”

“Okay, back on it, after lunch I have Econ”

“And I have French 1 lol”

“Next Government and home economics to end the day”

“Yup yup yup”. lol. “That 5/7, that’s Better than I thought we’d do to be honest. “

“Yea, and the two we don’t have together, we’re coming and going…so this is a win win”

The two celebrated and hugged while memorizing their lockers.

“So hey”. Said Sara Beth. “Are you still thinking about that stuff we found online”

“What stuff?” Erica quickly dismissed

“What stuff?!?, okay, all the blog posts about how to get back into diapers as a teen?” SB asked sheepishly

“Ooo, lol, I’m not just thinking…I’m gonna go for it I think!” Erica said worn brutal confidence.

“Okay, Okay, but what if it goes exactly like some of them said? And you end up back in full time diapers? Are you gonna be okay with being diapered at school? I mean, wearing at night is one thing, wanting to wear on weekends and etc is another. Being a full time diaper girl at 13?!? That sounds way too intense”. SB laid it out.

“Listen, Sara, my parents aren’t gonna put me in diapers during the day. Workst case scenario, pull-ups/goodnights or something. I am comfortable with that. I just want some of those Little for big diapers for home and night!!” Erica said while starting to day dream.

What the two were talking about was different blogs taking about how you can get your parents to put you back into diapers. And all the blogs/ideas/etc were similar. They all talked about starting to wet the bed, Erica already does that…however, she going to start purposely leaking a lot more to get attention. Instructions say to wet the bed every 5th night for a month, and then every third for a few weeks, to finally every other. Next was to begin daytime accidents. This was worrying Erica, but not enough to scare her away from it. She is supposed to start daytime accidents slowly and build up. Have a couple at home, a couple in front of parents, and finally several randomly in public. According to the internet diaper community, be super upset, confused, and helpless. They will take their kid to the doctor, run texts, and eventually be told…it is what it is, it happens. “You should go ahead and put her back in diapers”. That’s what Erica is betting on, they may not want to…but if the doctor says too, they will!

Erica being Erica, a fast moving I want it now type, she had decided to eliminate the bedtime buildup and just begin wetting her pants. To which she’s already been secretly practicing for months. Little by little making it easier and easier to just let go. It was the perfect plan she thought, and she was proud of herself.

(The one thing she hadn’t bet on, was her already weak bladder, and tendency for urge incontinence…by having “accidents” for a few weeks, she was already un training her fragile anatomy. To which she thought, I’m going to look so realistic!!! However the reality was about to crash and burn.)

Wednesday before school starts on Monday:

Eric’s woke up excitedly knowing she would begin her plan today. Before getting out of bed, she slide her soaked goodnignt to the side and emptied her morning bladder all over the bed, her pajamas, and etc. Happy with herself, she got right up and headed to the kitchen.

She had rehearsed this in her head enough times, she knew her part perfectly.

“Um, mommy…”

“Yes baby, what’s up? Ohhh, gosh…you leaked all over didn’t you? Get those Jammies off and get them to the wash, I’ll go strip your sheets”

“I’m sorry mommy, I didn’t…”

“Hey hey hey, release most of it is in your diap—goodnight, right? No harm not too much foul”

Erica starting to cry:

“Yea but, this is happening a lot…I donot want to pee on Sara Beth bed when I sleep over”

“I know hun, there isn’t much else we can do though is there?”

Erica started breathing heavy and not confidently uttered:

“I mean, maybe something thicker and more diaper like would be better!”

Her mother stopped dead and replied:

“Erica, you know that’s not gonna happen. We’ve finally been free of diapers for nearly 2 years! You’re proud of that, right?”

Erica just nodded and continued to the bathroom for a shower, mashing her teeth trying to not be defeated.

Erica, Sara Beth, and Karen had plans to grab school supplies today. Sara Beth often tagged along as her mom worked and Erica didn’t. Around the time Erica got out of the shower Sara Beth was walking in the side door being greeted by Karen.

“Hey High schooler, what’s cracking?”

“Hey Karen, how are you today?”

“Can’t complain…extra laundry today, but such as life”.

“Didn’t you just do laundry yesterday?”

“I did, but your best friend still hasn’t mastered bedwetting”

Sara Beth paused, knowing her friend probably did that on purpose…and as a nervous teen does:

“Um yea, well…she has always done that, guess those goodnights are getting a little small”

“You too huh, I see she has you doing her dirty work now”

SB couldn’t even look her in the face, just laughed it off and headed back to Erica’s room. As she entered, standing where Erica’s diaper changing table sat for all those years, she whispered:

“Hey, your mom is onto you…I would chill”

“Your being paranoid Sara, I got this…I’m going to be wearing real diapers again in no time”

“Your playing with fire dude, I’m just saying”

“Haven’t you wanted anything so bad you were willing to walk the line for it?”

“No, as a matter of fact…no”

The two exchanged glances as Erica continued getting ready.

Erica was quite average built, 5’2”, 115lbs, sandy blonde hair to her shoulders, big blue eyes and cheek bones that sang to you with every expression.

Sara Beth was in her own right, becoming a beautiful young woman. Her chest had developed last year and she was already wearing real bras, where as Erica didn’t even need a trainer. She was 5’6” 125, blonde hair to the middle of her back and green eyes.

“Okay you two, about ready? I wanna try and get some lunch at that Mexican place we all like”

“Okay”. The two girls said in unison.

Although Sara Beth knew what Erica was “up to” she didn’t want to be involved, she could see the potential pitfalls and wanted plausible deniability. Besides, she supported her friend, loved her, and all that…but didn’t understand why wearing “real diapers” was worth all this, part of her was a little sickened. But she held that down knowing it was crush her friend.

The three packed the car and headed to the plaza. On the way, Erica asked to stop for coffee, to which seemed like a harmless request her mom piped up with:

“Good idea”

Erica wanted to fill her bladder so that she could be locked and loaded when the time was right.

The three piled out, and started walking towards the Plaza. Karen and Sara Beth still working on most of their iced coffees, Erica was looking for a trash can. As they entered the office store, it was packed!

Karen uttered un enthusiastically

“Seems like every one had the same idea this morning, great”

This was not the ideal spot for Erica’s first attack. To many teens their age, with high potential she knew several, I mean, small town life and all. She decided to re evaluate later.

After a long (what seemed like several hours) to which was actually maybe 45 minutes, they completed their lists and were heading up to start the process of “hurry up and wait” as the store only had 2 registers open, and 20 people in line. Erica had begun to feel the pressure from her coffee about 10 minutes ago, but walking helped contain it. Now that they were standing still, the tell tale signs of a pee pee trot were beginning.

“Erica, I see you…go to the bathroom”. Her mother said in her best mom voice.

She knew she couldn’t, so she tried to think fast:

“No, it’s just these shoes…new and stiff”

Her mother looked up, and then looked at SB, then back to Erica…”seriously? Go pee”

Erica tried to ignore her, and her screaming bladder when out of no where…

::whishhhhhhh::

Erica stood dead still, deer in headlights, face crimson red, eyes welling up with fearful tears…what was that, she thought through her embarrassment.

“Erica Lee White, really?”

As Karen and Sara Beth just watched her pants were covered in pee and a puddle was forming at her feet.

Erica still not able to move, began loudly crying

Now the attention had be grabbed by all with in 20ft.

Mumbling began

“Did that girl just pee her pants? She’s like a teenager? Hey, is that Erica White? Dude Erica white pissed her pants in the store!”

Absolute horror. Erica finally able to move ran towards the parking lot not looking back to try and save herself a shred of decency. Ofcourse, Karen and SB still stand there, humiliated in their own right. They kept it together and informed the staff of the accident, finally checked out and began the walk to find their pee soaked companion.

[justinspoliticalcorner]

Dan Pfeiffer at The Message Box:

It is a tradition among Democrats in the Trump era. Around the first couple of weeks of October, we lose our minds and briefly forget everything we have learned about politics. Democratic electeds and operatives start panicking about the polls and dial up every reporter in their contacts to offload their anxiety in the least helpful ways possible.

[...] On one hand, I get it. The stakes could not be higher and the race could not be closer. It’s equal parts mystifying and enraging that someone as dumb and dangerous as Donald Trump could win the election. However, to quote a famous meme from this exact moment in the 2008 campaign: “Everyone needs to chill the fuck out.” I am not telling anyone to stop “bedwetting.” And I am certainly NOT telling people that Kamala Harris will definitely win. Trump may still win this race. By some measures, Trump is stronger than he was in 2020. But the whiplash between the Democratic elation of a few weeks ago and the full-on panic of the last few days is detached from reality. This has been a remarkably stable race. The vibes changed, but the race hasn’t.

A Steady State of the Race

With three weeks to go, Kamala Harris and Donald Trump are in a dead-heat race nationally and in all seven battleground states. That’s where the race was before the Democratic convention, after the second debate, and after the second assassination attempt on Trump. For an election beset by a series of unprecedented events, the Harris-Trump race remains remarkably steady. [...] All seven battleground states are within two points — essentially statistical ties. If you squint, you can catch slight movement towards Trump over the last two weeks in the polling averages in the Blue Wall states of Michigan, Pennsylvania, and Wisconsin. While there has been also  some movement in Harris’s direction in some other states., Maybe that’s real. Maybe it’s just noise. Either way, remember that polls are not predictive. They are imprecise snapshots in time. I bring up this imprecision not to suggest that the polls are “wrong” or “biased” or that the averages are irrevocably screwed because of a flood of junk GOP polls. Polls are inherently imprecise. That’s why there’s a margin of error. A poll with Kamala Harris up two and a poll with her down two say the same thing. This race is a toss-up. These dramatic mood shifts based on polling movement within the margin of error are understandable given the stakes, but they do not reflect reality.

[...]

Kamala Harris’s Upside

Trump has structural advantages. He is better known. The Electoral College has a Republican bias. People are unhappy with the economy, and President Biden’s approval rating is underwater. These are tough political headwinds to overcome. However, Kamala Harris has some real advantages over these final three weeks. First, Kamala Harris has a higher ceiling. Trump never received more than 47% of the vote nationally and tends to cap out at about 48% in the battleground states. That’s enough to win, but only barely. As evidenced by Biden’s numbers in 2020 and Democratic performance in these battleground states, Harris has the greater potential to grow her vote total than Trump. Second, Harris is the better, more popular candidate. She isn’t perfect on the stump, but her appearances in the media and on the campaign trail benefit her. Trump's — not so much. Blueprint, a Democratic research firm, tested clips from Harris’s recent interview with MSNBC’s Stephanie Ruhle and every clip was viewed positively by six in ten voters, and every clip made those who saw it more likely to vote for her. Next week, Harris is barnstorming six battleground states with at least 19 events. Finally, she has more money to spend over the last few weeks. In a close race, a better field operation makes the difference; and Harris has the better field operation.

Dan Pfeiffer writes in The Message Box today about why Democrats should stop doomering about the polls. The race is a close contest that either Kamala Harris (D) or Donald Trump (R) can realistically win.

It’s a close contest, but I think Harris has the narrow edge as of now.

[omoghouls]

(Sorry, I have bedwetting on the brain now.)

Since Felix is a chronic bedwetter, I feel like Emmrich eventually very gently convinces him to pad up at night. It’ll keep him more comfortable so he doesn’t have to wake up cold and wet all the time, and can have a nice peaceful night of sleep! And once Felix caves in, Emmrich was right. He’s sleeping better than he has in ages without having to worry about soaking the bed, and he doesn’t have to worry about getting up in the night to change the sheets!

…except when its Emmrich who soaks their bed. It doesn’t happen all the time, just when he’s stressed or anxious or overworked, but then he’s so miserable and embarrassed when he has to wake up Felix who was sleeping comfortable in his padding and dry side of the bed because Emmrich has to change the sheets now. Eventually Felix has to suggest that maybe Emm tries the protection too, just on those nights when he’s having a rough time and is more likely to have an accident. He just wants his partner to rest and feel safe and not have anything to worry about at night!

ABSNDNWJWI I ONLY KUST SAW THIS OMG😭😭😭😭

Felix tries SO hard to convince Emmrich that he can keep the bed dry (and also trying to convince himself), but Felix just knows these little pleads of another chance will fall on deaf ears.

Emmrich is gentle as he explains to Felix how it's safer and easier in the long run to pad up during the night. Eventually, the necromancer is able to coax Felix into at least trying it ( "If you stay dry or find yourself uncomfortable, we will figure something else out, dear.")

Of course, Felix finds himself getting the best undisturbed sleep he's had in a long time- (albeit soggy but better than drenching the sheets and his lover)

BUT OMG 🥺🥺 When nightmares plague Emmrich's mind after a particularly troubled spirit or just the stresses of professor life- Emmrich finds himself on the giving end of sheet wetting. Of course, when it's he who wets the bed, Emmrich beats himself up! He doesn't give himself the kindness or understanding that he gives Felix.

But Felix is gentle. He soothes Emmrich's troubled mind. Reassuring him he isn't upset that Emmrich woke up because the sheets need to be stripped- he wants to help him in any way that he can!

Being suggested to try padding up has Emmrich a bit flustered. But, he sees how soundly and safety Felix slumbers, so he takes Felix up on the offer on the evenings he finds himself feeling on edge or knows it's going to be a wet night.

Ofc this means some gentle and tender pre-bed changes. Aka: Felix lovingly pinning the cloth securely around Emmrich's hips hehe ;u;

[nannychloecatalog]

Falling Diapered Into Her Arms: My Story of Regression, Humiliation, and Messy Diaper Punishment (An ABDL Novella)

(The following was first published on: Apr 18, 2024)

Excerpt:

(Notice: The following story features mature content in an ABDL setting. All characters are over the age of 18+.)

It was on the way to the grocery store that I noticed the first signs I might be having an upset tummy.

Sitting in the back of my Mommy’s van, I felt gurgling, twisting and rumbling as we drove, causing me to wince with every bump. It seemed more and more like something in my breakfast wasn’t agreeing with me.

I took deep breaths and tried to put the growing discomfort out of my mind, hoping my tummy would settle down on its own, shortly.

But in the back of my mind, I had a growing fear that the rumblies I was wrestling with might mean I would need to take a dump sooner rather than later—far earlier than my usual after-dinner BM schedule.

The issue was there was no way I was going to be able to go number two while we were out of the house, and I knew we wouldn’t be back home from running my Mommy’s errands for at least several more hours at this point.

That’s because there was no way I could bear using a public toilet to poop. This week, especially.

In the first place, I’d always been terrified of pooping in a public toilet outside my house, even before I met my Mommy. It was one of my greatest fears.

But then, add on to that my Mommy still currently required that she supervise me while I was using the toilet, even in a public bathroom.

It was already nearly impossible trying to brave the humiliation of pooping in front of my Mommy while she watched me at home. The idea of having to poop in a public bathroom while she stood in the stall with me, narrating it for anyone else in the restroom to hear, was unimaginable.

But finally, there was the fact I was still only three days into my so-called ‘potty-probation’. And that meant I was still wearing a diaper 24/7, including right now.

I was forbidden from using my daytime diapers, of course. (Pottying in my diapers was the last thing on earth I wanted to do, anyway.) But the terms of my potty-probation were that every morning, my Mommy changed me out of my soggy bedwetting diaper, and into a fresh daytime diaper—one I was not to use.

Then, similar to my previous potty-training rules, whenever I needed to use the potty, I needed to ask my Mommy to take me, so she could bring me into the bathroom and carefully un-tape my diaper.

Before she even allowed me to sit on the potty for my supervised toileting, she carefully inspected the bright white interior diaper padding for any signs of, “visible continence failure.” Or, as she translated for me to understand, “Any oopsie peepees or whoopsie poopies in your diadees!”

Only when she deemed that my diaper was still, “appropriately unsoiled”—that is, “no yucky doodie or peepee stains”—did she let me sit on the potty to do my business.

Then, when I was finished using the toilet, I would then be made to lay on a vinyl baby’s diaper changing pad on the bathroom floor so she could properly diaper me back up, often with a fresh application of baby powder or extra tapes, if necessary.

With all the other difficulties involved with using a public toilet to go number two at this point, I just couldn’t imagine also being forced to do it all with an extremely humiliating, noisy, noticeably crinkly diaper that needed to be taken off by my Mommy… let alone put back on while I laid on the floor for all to see!

So, even though by time we arrived at the grocery store, my tummy rumbles had already begun to transform into painful urges and cramps in my bowels like I feared… I was still more determined than ever to just hold it till we got back home.

After all, it wasn’t like I actually needed the stupid diaper I was being forced to wear under my pants. I wasn’t actually a stupid baby. I’d be able to just hold it like a big boy until we got home, no problem.

… right?

* * * 

“Do you need to go potty before we start shopping, hon?” my Mommy loudly asked me as we walked through the front doors of the grocery store. “Does my little guy need to potty?”

I blushed and stared down in embarrassment as several nearby patrons glanced in our direction, all of them cringing with pity and / or discomfort at seeing someone my age still needing to be talked to in such an infantile way.

“Well? Answer Mommy when she asks you a question,” my Mommy repeated even louder. “Do you need Mommy to take you to the potty before we start shopping, or not? Do you need to go weewee? Because I don’t want to take a potty break once we get started, hon.”

I bit my lip, suddenly shyly hesitating.

The thing was, the second she asked if I had to pee, I realized, in fact… I did.

It was humiliating how well she seemed to know when and how often I needed to go to the potty lately. Seemingly even better than I did. Just like a Mommy potty-training her little boy…

But the problem was, my tummy was now in such distress, and I was so focused on holding back my urgent need to go number two, I suddenly felt terrified that if I tried to pee… I might lose control of my bowels. And if she decided to stand me at a urinal to pee (which she often did if we were out and about and she was in a hurry), I might shit my pants.

It was too risky. I just needed to wait until my stomach settled a little bit, first, I told myself. I would pee when my tummy cramps finally weren’t so bad.

“No, I don’t have to go potty,” I answered, my cheeks turning a bit red, perhaps betraying my fib.

“Are you suuuuuure?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.

I gave a shy nod. It occurred to me how silly it was that I was once again lying to my Mommy about not needing to potty. But what else was I to do?

“Hmmm, I don’t know,” my Mommy said, as if reading my mind. She grabbed me by the wrist. “I think we learned last time that I’d better take you anyway—“

“Excuse me, ma’am?” A stranger suddenly interrupted my Mommy, stopping her in her tracks. “Would you like to sign up for our store’s free savings program? You can save up to 30% off on every visit with just your email address.”

To my surprise, my Mommy stopped and suddenly seemed to get swept up in some sort of boring adult conversation with what looked like someone who worked for the store.

I slowly drifted behind her while she held my wrist, taking the opportunity to catch my breath and ease the cramping in my bowels. I really, really didn’t want to be taken to the potty at the moment. Especially now that I could tell from the way my guts were rumbling, it was going to be a sloppy, loud, potentially even painful bowel evacuation I was in for, which made me all the more desperate to avoid doing it in a public bathroom.

I just needed to focus on holding everything for now…

Suddenly, I realized my Mommy was finished with the conversation. But funny enough, by time she was finished, she seemingly had forgotten she was about to drag me to the bathroom to pee against my will.

Instead, it seemed she got distracted by a sale at the end of the aisle, and was now quickly pulling me along as she grabbed a cart and started her grocery shopping.

I was incredibly relieved. I had no idea what would have happened if she had dragged me to the bathroom. Whether I would have horrifically messed myself while trying to maintain my composure enough to ‘just’ urinate at the urinal… or been forced to confess my real most pressing potty need, where I would then have been dragged to a filthy public stall and forced to suffer the most humiliating and intense BM of my life…

But as immensely relieved as I was in the moment… unfortunately, that sense of relief didn’t last long.

In fact, it didn’t take long for me to realize that, while I obediently shuffled behind my Mommy as she traversed up and down the endless supermarket aisles, the pressure and cramps in my bowels weren’t getting any better, like I had hoped.

In fact, they were only getting much, much worse…

* * * 

I clutched my tummy and wheezed with pain as I felt another seismic cramp reverberate through my bowels.

I had been patiently, obediently following my Mommy around the crowded supermarket for quite a while now, aisle after aisle, department after department.

She seemed to be doing her shopping even slower than usual, adding to my immense distress. But I knew by now raising any fuss about how long it was taking Mommy to do her errands was a surefire way to suddenly make my situation much worse, with a swift and severe punishment.

At first, I had been carried by the hope that my Mommy would be done shopping soon, which meant we might go home soon, which meant I would finally get to relieve my agonizing bowels on our toilet at home soon...

But then, it began to feel like not only was my Mommy slowing down… but so was time itself. Every step I took with the thick, humiliating, crinkly padding between my legs felt like days of agony as I tried to suppress the cramps in my tummy.

And as my Mommy stopped in the cereal aisle to carry on a long and protracted conversation with a friend from the neighborhood she had recognized, while I gritted my teeth and suppressed the worst groans my tummy had ever made…

I finally realized I had made a huge mistake. 

As mortified and dead-set against I was at first about using the public toilet to relieve my agonizing bowels, I was now at a breaking point. I realized I truly couldn’t hold on much longer. 

And with a chill of terror, the true stakes finally dawned on me of what I was risking if I didn’t summon the strength to subject myself to the humiliation of using the store bathroom with my Mommy…

I realized I was now suddenly risking potentially having an accident in my diaper… while on potty-probation. And if that happened… it meant I might never get to use any toilet at all ever again.

Sweating bullets and wheezing with intestinal distress, I finally faced the fact that I was out of options. I realized my Mommy wasn’t leaving this store anytime soon. My only choice now was to try to get her attention, before I risked the unthinkable happening…

“Ummm… Mommy?” I suddenly squeaked, trying to get her attention while she carried on her conversation with the neighbor she happened to run into.

While I had been obediently standing right next to my Mommy the whole time they talked, I hadn’t paid attention to a word of their conversation, and I couldn’t have, even if I wanted to. I was far too distracted by the seismic gurgling and gasp-inducing cramps that had now fully seised my bowels.

“Mommy? Mommy?” I whined again, desperate to get her attention without earning myself a scolding, or worse, for rudely interrupting.

Finally, my Mommy turned around. “What is it, hon?” she asked, clearly irritated.

“I… uh… umm… well… you see… I just… ummm….” I murmured, still struggling to say it, after resisting it for so long. 

But now, I was practically doubled over in pain. My face was red and covered with sweat. My bowels were making noises I’d never heard anyone’s stomach make before. I suddenly needed to poop worse than I’d ever needed to poop in my life, and my primal desperation for physical relief finally took over…

“I gotta go potty, Mommy!” I finally managed to belt out, clutching my tummy and grimacing in pain.

My Mommy gave a brief expression of surprise, then let out a long sigh of disappointment. Then she turned back to her friend.

“Alright, I’d better get back to shopping with the little rugrat, here. It was great catching up! Let’s stay in touch about playdates and babysitting, like you said! I’m sure they’d both love that,” my Mommy said to her friend.

If I wasn’t in such agony, I might have paid more attention to what she mentioned about playdates and babysitting, but as it stood, I only had one concern. Getting. To. The. Potty.

My Mommy finally hugged her friend goodbye, then slowly turned around and started pushing the cart down the aisle again while I shuffled alongside her.

I felt a sudden and tremendous wave of relief. It looked like she was taking me to the bathroom! I was so happy I could have cried.

Or at least, that’s how it seemed at first…

Until a moment later, my Mommy stopped at a shelf and started looking through cans of soup again, to my utter bafflement.

“Umm, Mommy!” I squeaked. “I said I really need you to take me to the potty!”

“Oh, I know, sweetie,” she replied calmly. “Don’t worry, I’m almost done with my shopping, then we’ll go right there.”

I was flummoxed. “But… but… Mommyyy… I really have to go….” I softly whimpered.

But she seemed to ignore me as she continued calmly looking through items on the shelf.

“Mommyyyy… Mommyyyy… Mommy…” I continued whining, clutching my stomach in pain as I followed her.

But she still didn’t respond.

Finally, I cried out, “Mommy, I said I really have to go potty, right now!”

“Well, too bad!” my Mommy suddenly shouted back, spinning on her heels to stare me down. “You should have thought of that the first time I offered to take you, shouldn’t you have? You know, right when we entered the store?”

I instantly wilted, feeling scared. She only scolded me in that tone of voice when I was on the verge of being in big, big trouble.

“But… but… I really have to go, really bad…” I whimpered softly. “Can’t you please just take me now?”

“No,” my Mommy said sternly. “Absolutely not. When I offered to take you to the potty before, I made it very clear to you it was because I didn’t want to take any potty breaks while I was in the middle of shopping. I even tried to insist you go potty, even if you didn’t feel like it, so this wouldn’t happen. And guess what? You refused. Why did you refuse? Probably because you thought you were too much of a big boy to go potty when your Mommy said you should.

“Well, guess what, little buddy? If you want to choose to try to act like a big boy, that’s fine. But that also means actually being treated like a big boy. And in this case, that means you quit whining and you hold it like a big boy until I’m done shopping and can take you to the potty again. Is that clear?” my Mommy scolded.

“I… I…” I stammered, the cramps in my tummy too painful for me to think straight.

“I said… IS. THAT. CLEAR?” my Mommy repeated, causing the hair to go up on the back of my neck in fear.

“Yes, Mommy,” I murmured.

“Good,” my Mommy said, finally letting out a small sigh and returning to her task of comparing soup cans. “Now, I’ll only be a little bit longer. And like I said before, I’ll take you to the potty right away when I’m finished.”

I nodded and stared at the floor. My face burned red with embarrassment, shame, pain, and frustration as I resumed silently and obediently standing behind my Mommy, like she ordered, my bowels cramping and my tummy grumbling in non-stop, humiliating pain.

The worst part of all was knowing, deep down, she was right…

This whole situation really was my fault.

* * * 

As I stood beside my Mommy while she leisurely shopped, gritting my teeth and silently wrestling a new wave of excruciating cramps in my stomach and bowels, my attention happened to turn back to what I was wearing beneath my pants…

The diaper. The stupid, humiliating, crinkly diaper. It suddenly felt more embarrassing and stifling than ever between my legs and around my waist. It was sweaty, and tight, and puffy, and a reminder I just couldn’t ignore of just what a stupid baby I was.

And I really was a pathetic, stupid baby, wasn’t I? My Mommy was right. I should have just gone to the potty when she first offered when we first walked in. Why didn’t I? What reason was there, besides my own pathetic, babyish stubbornness and stupidity…

As I twisted my feet and screwed my face in pain from another urgent cramp, and stared at my Mommy’s back while she continued calmly perusing the shelves, I couldn’t help but wonder…

What if I just made a run for it? What If I just took off running for the bathroom, right now. And went to the bathroom all by myself, without permission, and just sat on the toilet before it was too late…

Every fiber of my physical biology was begging me to do it. To just go get to the potty so I could finally relieve the excruciating pressure and agony in my guts…

But my feet wouldn’t dare budge. And I really wasn’t even certain why.

Perhaps it was because the idea of so flagrantly disobeying even just one of my Mommy’s direct rules at this point gave me the heebie-jeebies. Let alone several direct rules, such as not leaving her side when in public, not using the potty without permission or supervision, and not removing one’s own diaper…

Especially now that I had a pretty good sample of all the flavors of corporal punishment my Mommy had to offer when it came to seriously disciplining me. I could only imagine what punishment such over the top defiance would yield. There would likely be permanent marks on my behind by time she was done with me in the big boy punishment room.

Or maybe, the reason I couldn’t bear to move my feet in defiance, was just picturing the moment after I sat down on the toilet, if I did…

I would almost certainly hear my Mommy charging into the bathroom hot on my heels, bellowing to the crowded bathroom of strangers about how she was looking for her naughty, naughty boy. Then she would find me in the stall, pull me off the toilet, and no doubt publicly spank and scold me in front of the crowd of adult men, with my diaper dangling around my ankles.

Would I ever be able to look another adult stranger in the eyes again after suffering such an unforgettable public humiliation?

Or maybe, besides the potential spanking of a lifetime, or humiliation of a lifetime, the real reason why I couldn’t do it, why I couldn’t turn and run to the bathroom in that moment without my Mommy’s permission, was because deep down… I knew she was right. I didn’t deserve it.

I knew I didn’t deserve to go to the potty until my Mommy was done shopping. Not at this point, anyway.

On some level, I knew the crippling pains in my bowels were the price of acting like a baby, and not going potty when I was told to. Now, they were the price of wanting to be a big boy, and holding it like a big boy should.

And even though I knew I had acted like such a baby earlier, I still so badly wanted to be a big boy. A big boy who made his Mommy proud more than anything. And I knew if I took off running without permission like a naughty baby, I would never be a big boy in her eyes again…

But even despite my resolve to prove to my Mommy I was a big boy, with every step I continued following her as she meandered down the grocery aisle, the pain in my guts was becoming unbearable, and I sensed my willpower reaching yet another breaking point.

“Mommyyyy…” I began softly whimpering again in barely audible pleas, tears coming to my eyes. “Mommyyyy… please hurry…”

And even though she didn’t hear most of my pleas, or she chose to ignore them, she would still occasionally turn back to calmly reassure me, “Almost done, hon. Just a few more things. Almost done.”

My whole body was trembling. Sweat was pouring down my face. I was rocking back and forth on my feet, squeezing my eyes shut, and focusing everything I had on keeping my bottom from exploding.

My exhaustion and agony began to propel me into a near tantric-state. I didn’t know how much more I could take! I felt on the verge of totally collapsing or passing out.

Suddenly, something my Mommy had said began to abruptly echo as a thought within my head…

You wanted to be a big boy.

You wanted to be a big boy.

You wanted to be a big boy.

I was dumbstruck by a sudden, dazed, agonizing epiphany. I abruptly stumbled forward, wrapped my arms around my Mommy, and broke down into hysterical, heaving sobs.

“I’m sorry, Mommy! I was wrong! I can’t do it! I don’t want to be a big boy! I don’t know how to be a big boy, after all!” I wailed, burying my face in her chest and suddenly clinging to her like a lone life raft in an endless freezing sea.

And in the blackness of my closed eyes against her chest, I heard her voice whisper so softly, it was just barely detectible, if even actually there at all…

Just let it go, my baby boy. Just let it all go.

I pulled my head away from my Mommy’s chest. She looked down at me, her expression confused.

I suddenly felt a wave of indescribable calm. My tears totally dried, my physical pain evaporated. As if I was suddenly struck with enlightenment.

“Is everything okay, bud?” my Mommy asked, her arms still wrapped around me. A slow, goofy smile grew across my face. And with one last big, deep inhale…

FRRRRTT—

I erupted with one of the most massive, stinky messes of my life, right into the seat of my diaper. All while my Mommy held me close, seemingly with no idea what was happening right before her eyes...

___________

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