If you’ve ever been in an age play relationship, whether you were the big or the little, you probably recall how it felt the very first time you met the other person, the very first time it became a “dynamic” encounter for you and also the seemingly unending chain of emotions, sensations, scents, sounds and sights that inundated you – making that exchange one of the most vivid memories you have ever had … all in a single instant of time.
How’s that for an introductory run-on sentence? LOL
Now … everyone’s experiences have been completely different and there is a plethora of reasons why it is something unique for each of us.
We all have different starting points, different fantasies, different interests, different abilities to retain such memories, different incentives, different reactions, different levels of creature of touch syndrome, etc. And this list could go on and on. But in an effort to not go run-on crazy again, I will leave you the reader the responsibility of filling in what that etc. at the end of the sentence means to you.
After all, you are the foremost authority of how something made you feel.
And with all these differences swirling around, there are only two likely in common results that I can think of:
- What you liked.
- What you didn’t like.
Both are of equal importance. Both are prone to remain within your memories always.
I’ve always seen myself as having the DLAB interest. And my heart has always leaned towards the girls who are diaper lovers first … with a sprinkling of adult baby inclinations as garnishments.
And I guess that’s why these pictures stood out to me when I first saw them. They spoke then, and still now speak directly to my unique age play interest. I don’t believe they came from any ABDL picture site. I also have reason to believe that some of the pictures might be fake (you know … those ones where a fake diaper is put on the girl in the picture).
But none of that really matters as it doesn’t make anything seem less real to me, nor do the blurred faces of the guy.
At the time I first saw these pictures, close to two decades ago, I hadn’t met another ABDLer yet. I hadn’t yet been blessed with the opportunity to be that guy with the blurry face. Those days were ahead for me, but they were still a little ways off.
So visuals such as these captivated what I found to be at the heart of my own brand of the fetish (or interest … or kink … or lifestyle … or … whatever you’d like to call it).
I remember when I met that first BabyGirl. It was this set of pictures that came to mind. And as I diapered her, set her on my lap and touched the rubber nipple of that first baby bottle to her lower lip, I realized that I wasn’t actually recreating the pictures.
Instead, the pictures were finally living up to what was in my mind all along. And that was a really good feeling … although, I couldn’t devote much time to thinking about just then as I had a BabyGirl in my arms that needed tending to.
But there are two specific pictures in this collection that I constantly reference mentally when writing stories.
(Warning: I believe this posting is about to end with yet another run-on sentence … or two … or three.)
Whenever I write about changing a BabyGirl’s diaper in a story, that segment will almost always include:
He raised her legs in the air, lifting her bottom ever-so-slightly off the mattress and sliding her wet diaper out from underneath her – the BabyGirl staring up at the ceiling and nursing on her pacifier as she felt her mind turning to mush from listening to the crinkling noise of him unfolding the new diaper that would soon envelop her.
Placing the new diaper flat to the mattress, he slid the back waistline up to meet her lower lumbar before taking a baby wipe to her bottom – the BabyGirl whimpering for a second at the coolness of the wipe but then mellowing out into a girly little exhale as she felt the wetness leave her cheeks … going through the same reactions again as he took another baby wipe to her front before reaching for the container of baby powder.
The silky feeling of the powder coated her bottom as its strong, sweet scent permeated the air, her Daddy caressing the powder out evenly with strong hands that somehow understood the true meaning of the word gentle – then coating her front and caressing the powder out again in the exact same manner … making her whimper for a whole new reason.
Lowering her bottom into the inner softness of the diaper, he brough her legs back down to the mattress – the BabyGirl instinctively bending her knees and parting her legs as he drew the front of her diaper up and into place … fastening the tapes snuggly at her hips, giving her that overwhelming and intoxicating feeling of being enveloped in a crinkling-n-softness that would certain keep her regressed until the next time she found herself staring up at the ceiling while listening to her diaper tapes being unfastened for her next change.
It’s the kind of sentence, and also the kind of thought, that I happily have never found another way to better describe than as a run-on … that just keeps running.