#ab/dl fantasy

[rakkausmt]

Oops

[little-abdl-blog]

So, my cg and I thought of something, and you’re just gonna have to bear with me here, but CG/L countryhumans neighbourhood groupchat, enjoy:

US: New Year, New me

Russia: the same pompous asshole I’ve always known

US: hey, no, I promise I’ll chill out

Russia: you say that every time yet you never change

Syria: I’ve also had a change

France: ohmigod! You broke up with Russia! Thank you

France: littles shouldn’t be left alone though, do you want to crash with Mommy France for a bit while I look for someone serious

Belgium: I don’t think that’s a good idea France, you’re clearly about to regress yourself

….

13/05/1949 16:40

UK: isn’t it funny how West Germany is Austria’s Mommy Domme, but East Germany is Russia’s baby girl

US (Eisenhower era): not really, it’s just a matter of who’s bigger

UK: Not true, Singapore and Thailand look after Malaya alongside me, and they’re no bigger in size nor projectable power

Canada: Awww! Can I have a play date sometime soon

UK: I can arrange that! The prospective mommies are so cute and I love them

….

20/02/1964

West Germany: *picture of Austria, snug as a bug, in bed with an Empress Sisi plush, and drool all over her* what a cute little girl I have

France: awww 🥰 that’s so sweet

Luxembourg: I sleep like that

Belgium: and it’s very cute when myself and the Netherlands wake you up and you’ve gotten drool over your blouse

Netherlands: sweet baby, messy baby girl

Luxembourg: 🥵🥰😍

….

12/12/2002

Timor-Leste: I’m curious, if you’re partnered how long have you been together

Germany: 120 years with my baby girl Austria

Belarus: 400 years with my beautiful mommy Russia

Russia: 💖 I love you too, Bella

Vatican: myself and Malta have been together since the Second Crusade

Austria: that’s 800+ years, longer than any of us

Norway: incorrect, I have been with Sweden and Denmark for a thousand years

Italy: *picture of Little Slovenia from around 2 BC* isn’t she cute?

Greece: Macedonia’s for 2450 years, we’re both switches, so we swap dynamics a lot

China: Korea for 3,000 years

South Korea: we’ve been done for 80 years

DPRK:💖💖💖😍 Mama China

Ethiopia: at minimum 40,000 years with Somaliland and Eritrea

Timor Leste: and before me, who has the most recent relationship

Uzbekistan: I’ve fallen in love with China too! 💖

DPRK: we love our protective mamas! 💖

Italy: y’all are heartwarming

[little-abdl-blog]

Awww, so cute

Big Girl Tries So Hard

You watch her from across the room, arms crossed, amusement curling at the edges of your lips. She’s completely in her own little world, laser-focused, brows scrunched up in pure determination as she scoops another spoonful of mashed bananas from the colorful plastic bowl in front of her.

Her tiny rubber spoon wobbles precariously in her grasp, her little fingers gripping it just a little too tightly, but she steadies it—her tongue poking out in concentration. Slowly, carefully, she guides it to her lips.

Most of it actually makes it into her mouth this time, and she beams instantly, chewing triumphantly, legs kicking against the soft playmat beneath her.

“See, Daddy?” she chirps, her voice bubbling with excitement. “Told you I can do it all by myself!”

You smirk, tilting your head slightly, letting her soak in her self-proclaimed victory. She’s trying so hard to prove something to you, so desperate to show you she’s a big girl. But the scene in front of you tells a very, very different story.

Her bib—light blue, speckled with tiny yellow ducks—is already covered in little splatters of banana mush, a few streaks of orange from the carrots you’d tried to sneak into her meal. A small dribble clings stubbornly to the corner of her lips, but she doesn’t seem to notice. Too busy. Too determined.

But you see everything.

The way she’s sitting, legs spread in that familiar little way, completely at ease, completely comfortable. How she shifts every so often, absentmindedly bouncing just a little, and you hear it—the quiet squish beneath her.

She doesn’t even realize.

Doesn’t register the damp warmth pressing between her thighs, doesn’t notice the swollen bulk of her diaper pressing up against her tummy. She hasn’t checked, hasn’t fidgeted, hasn’t asked. She’s too lost in her moment, too caught up in trying to be something she isn’t.

She scoops another spoonful, but this time, she’s not as lucky. The mush wobbles, tipping over before she can get it to her lips, landing with a soft splat against her bib. She gasps dramatically, eyes wide, before quickly darting a look at you, like she’s expecting a scolding.

You only chuckle, shaking your head.

“Oopsie,” you tease, reaching forward to wipe the mess from her chin with a napkin.

She pouts, wiggling a little in protest. “I had it.”

“Of course you did, princess,” you hum, rubbing a thumb over the sticky spot on her cheek before pressing a kiss to her forehead. “You’re doing such a good job.”

She preens at the praise, instantly forgetting the little accident, instantly grinning as she scoops up another bite.

And still—still—she doesn’t notice.

Not the state of her bib.

Not the mess clinging to her fingers.

Not the way her diaper sits, soaked and squishy beneath her, pressing into her skin, crinkling with every movement.

She doesn’t realize.

And that’s the best part of all.

[trans-fairy-goddess]

Giving a cutie an edible that’s a little too strong, then making them drink a little wine to “stop” the woozy feeling. You ask can we do something to “clear your head,” which gives me the perfect idea.

We then going out on a little “road trip.” As I drive to unfamiliar places, I tell you that everything is okay. I can see you in the rear view mirror struggling to stay awake, and I continue to drive until I’m sure you’re fast asleep.

Once you’re knocked out in my back seat, I drive us somewhere private— not a camera, window, or person in sight. Once we arrive, I turn the car off and open your door to see you. While you’re fast asleep, I take the time to touch you. I feel up your clothes, caress your inner thighs, and tell you to relax.

Next thing you know, you’re missing your pants, your underwear are at your ankles, your shirt is lifted, and you see me stroking my girldick. You’re too out of it to understand what’s about to happen, and before you can even form words, I stuff my gock into your mouth. As you gag and choke, I thrust slowly and deeply into you. “Shhhhhhh baby. Mommy needs this.”

As I pull out of your throat, you groan and cough. You cutely say “I just wanted to clear my head…”

You black out and wake up bent over the trunk of my car. You can feel my thick cock pounding deeply and slowly into you. With every thrust I moan into your ear. “Just like that sweetheart. Be good for me.”

As you try to speak, I grope your chest and thrust harder. You stand on the top of your toes and begin to whimper, trying your hardest to get away from me, but it’s no use. “Nobody can hear us sweetie. Just relax. Mommy’s here.”

For the next few hours, all you can do is struggle and try to scream as I paint your insides white over and over again~

[yesmasterblog]

I need them to be heavier….

[little-abdl-blog]

awww

You couldn't help but beam. Papa had let you wear big kid clothes to a party, for once!

He even let you wear your special, sexy 'big kid' undies.

Perched on his lap, your arm draped around his shoulder, kissing his neck, and enjoying the buzz from the first alcoholic beverage you've had in months, you felt so adult and so sexy.

At least you did until Papa turned his head and whispered in your ear.

"Do you need to go potty, baby doll?"

You could feel your blush radiate all the way down your neck from the simple, but infantilizing question.

"No!" You spat back in anger, only to immediately regret the decision.

After spending so much time in diapers, you had forgotten to recognize the signs that you needed to go. But, now that your attention was drawn to it, you could tell that your bladder was full to near bursting.

And worse, after that little outburst, you knew your pride would never let you admit your need to Papa now. He'd tease you and never let you live it down.

So, you stayed planted in Papa's lap, no longer relishing the rush of adulthood that you had before. Instead, you felt like a stubborn toddler, wiggling in their caregivers lap, as they denied their obvious need to pee.

It only took a few minutes before your fight with your body ended. With a trickle and then a flood, you soaked your undies, pants, and, to your horror, Papa's jeans.

"Baby," Papa chided with heartbreaking disappointment in his tone, "I thought you were going to be a big girl tonight?"

You lowered your eyes in shame and allowed Papa to herd you around the house without resistance.

After a few quick words to the host, a change of pants for Papa, and a whole wardrobe change for you, you suddenly found your position in the party had changed.

The time for lounging in Papa's lap, pretending to be his sexy girlfriend had ended. Instead, you found yourself sitting in a playpen in the corner, being cooed at and teased as your sucked your pacifier and uselessly tried to hide your bulky diaper under the short frock you were wearing.

You hated being the baby of the party.

But, after your not so little accident, you couldn't dispute that you were sitting precisely where you belonged.

[soaked-to-the-skin]

Imagining wearing a pull-up under my skirt to the club because I can’t be trusted to hold my pee in when I get drunk. I finish two drinks really fast then start dancing with my friends, I get tipsy right away and feel the alcohol hit my bladder like a rock. I hold it at first but all the jumping around makes a spurt come out. I’m glad I’m wearing a pull-up so I don’t have to worry about it! I keep dancing and leaking more and more until I’m just peeing hard and soaking my pull-up. Ah, feels so much better!!

Later I get a third drink, and I can sort of feel the need to pee but everything’s getting fuzzy, I’m such a lightweight. I get a fourth drink, and I barely know what’s happening or how I’m still standing and dancing. Warm pee starts leaking into my cold, totally soaked pull-up, I don’t even notice I’m having an accident until I realize that I suddenly feel warm. I’m struggling to control it and I’m peeing steadily now, until I feel something wet dripping down my leg. That sobers me up enough to grab my crotch and stop the stream, but just barely.

My friend sees me squirming in desperation and says “oh do you need the potty?” I nod miserably, shuffling my feet. “Is it an emergency?” I nod again, whimpering. They grab me by the arm and I stumble with them to the bathroom, one hand tightly gripping my crotch through my soaked padding. Luckily the line for the potty is short, I can’t stop squirming the whole time. We make it inside but there’s no stalls open, so my friend drags me to a urinal. I’m stuck with my hands wedged between my thighs, on the verge of leaking again. Without asking, my friend reached under my skirt, grabs my pull-up, and pulls it down, making me lose my grip. It hits the ground with a wet smack and people turn to look, and my friend says “this one can never keep their pants dry, what a baby!” The people who were looking all giggle or smirk at me, and my cheeks burn with embarrassment. I’m too drunk to stop any of this, though, and about to pee all over the floor.

My friend lifts up the front of my skirt for me and I aim for the urinal the best I can, but a lot of pee splashes down my legs and onto the floor instead. My stream feels endless, and the sensation of emptying is orgasmic. I can’t hold back a moan as I piss in the urinal and on myself, and my friend smirks. “You almost done there, potty pants?” I nod, breathless, and feel the last trickles drip down my legs. They pull my cold, clammy padding back up, guide me to the sink, and wash my hands for me.

We meet back up with the others and I’m so far gone that I don’t know what they’re saying, but there’s a lot of gesturing at me and glancing at my wet legs. They all steer me outside and the same friend grabs my hand. It appears that we’re leaving because I peed all over myself, which would be embarrassing if I was sober enough to care.

It’s a short walk, but halfway there, I feel an urge and suddenly start peeing full-force into my soaked pull-up, which overflows within seconds, making my legs feel warm again. I stop walking and stare down at my feet as my piss splatters on my boots and the sidewalk. “Oh you poor thing,” my friend says, “your little bladder is so tired!” When I’m done going, we keep walking home, well my walk is more of a staggering waddle because of how full my pull-up is. All I can think is, I really hope someone helps me shower tonight.

[maddie-dog]

The Marathon

Your caregiver decides they want to train for a marathon to get in better shape. They invite you to train with them. You happily accept, excited they want to do something so big with you for once.

The next day, you get dressed in your best fitness gear, including the thinest pull-up you have, so it won't interfere with your gait.

When you step outside, your caregiver, who is standing next to a large running stroller, laughs.

"Oh, sweetie? Did you think you were running with me? No! I just figured you'd love the long stroller rides. Plus, the extra weight will make the running even better for me!"

They then walk over and pull back the waistband of your athletic shorts.

"Oh, baby! These won't due! It's a long ride, and I don't want to stop for changies!"

Fifteen minutes later, rather than running next to your partner in your tight fitting active wear, your strapped into a stroller next to your favorite stuffie dressed in your thickest diaper with a childish onesie. Your grumpily sucking a huge bottle of milk as the gentle rocking of the stroller lulls you to sleep.

In just three short months, your caregiver finishes the marathon in the best shape they've ever been. Countless miles of running while pushing you in a stroller paying off.

In contrast, you feel softer and weaker than you ever have. Despite traversing the same miles on the road as your caregiver, you've spent them fully restrained, napping in a soggy and often messy diaper.

Despite that, you couldn't help feel a sense of pride as, after your caregiver hoisted you out of your stroller and onto their hip at the end of the race, a woman places a finisher's medal around your neck as well for, "Being such a good little baby for the whole race."

[diapee-girl]

Sleeping in my last diapee, til the delivery man arrives with more 🥹

[soaked-to-the-skin]

Wearing a diaper while you’re high so there’s even less for you to think about and you can just piss uncontrollably. Reblog if you agree

[hollythedopamineslave]

cute guys or girls who start to cry when they wet themselves but aren't shamed for it and instead receive comfort and hugs nhnuhnjuhnjhnhnjh >>>>>>>>>>>>>>>

[rakkausmt]

Relaxed