What does criminalizing ageplay porn have to do with protecting women and girls lmfao….that pmo I know it’s just a fearmongering or propaganda device or excuse but it’s so dumb bruh
I'm in the US, not the UK, but I was concerned about this law, so I looked into the text of the law myself. It's not nearly as bad as people are making it out to be.
The bill in question is called Crime and Policing Bill, and it has 532 clauses. On clause 265, it reads:
"Amendment of Protection of Children Act 1978
(1) The Protection of Children Act 1978 is amended as follows.
(2) In section 1(1)(a) (indecent photographs of children) after “child” insert “or a person who appears to be or is implied to be a child”.
(3) [... some details clarifying that you can use audio and relevant context to evaluate whether the image is intended to portray a child]"
This is intended to target AI-generated or other artificial depictions of child porn, it is NOT intended to target ABDLs! No matter how much you dress up with your little gear or make a mess of your diapers, you will never "appear to be" an actual child. The only potentially applicable part of this text is the "implied to be a child," which is vague enough to be easily defensible in court. I would argue that ABDL photos do not ever imply that the subject is a child, since there is an understanding in the community that this is make believe; the implication is that you are pretending to be a child, not that you actually are one.
Character A gently waking up a very sleep-deprived Character B, whispering, “hey, I know you’re tired, but you should really get a pull-up on before you fall asleep, okay?”
This caption is for @jsolano318, who wanted a blushy party all for herself. Hope you enjoy it! It’s also set in the Little’s Program™️ Anthology universe.
You watch the adults running here and there, ensuring everything was perfect for the party.
This was, after all, a very special occasion.
Hosting a party this time of year wasn’t unusual for your family.
By sheer happenstance, you, your mother, your older sister, your younger brother, and even your cousin all had birthdays within a few weeks of each other.
Tired of hosting back-to-back-to-back-to-back parties, your Mom decided to throw one big party for everyone. One day to go all out and celebrate all the birthdays at once.
It may have started out of convenience, but over the years, it morphed into one of your great family traditions. Everyone looked forward to it.
This was the first time the party was devoted to a single person in years.
You.
As you take in the decorations, your tummy squirms with nerves. Your mom added her usual elegant touches, but there was an unmistakable difference from the normal vibe.
“Emily, dear, would you mind checking Julia’s diaper? I could have sworn I saw her making some silly faces.”
“Sure thing, Mrs. Smith,” Emily answered your mom.
Two months ago, Emily was your girlfriend.
“Hiya Juju!” Emily coos, “Let’s check that diapie of yours. Did you make a stinky?”
Without waiting for you to answer, Emily pulls back the waistband of your diaper and inspects it.
Ever since you got back from the Little’s Program™️, she’s been your Nanny. Part of you was glad you still got to spend time with her.
The other part was mortified. She was now your authority figure, responsible for checking and changing your diapers and spoon-feeding you your meals.
“All clean, Mrs. Smith,” Emily says, “Just a little soggy!”
This was no ordinary birthday party. A better description would be an Unbirthday Party.
The guests, due to arrive at any minute, aren’t here to celebrate your 22nd birthday; they’re coming to celebrate your first of many birthdays as the regressed Little you now are.
The doorbell rings.
Another knot forms in your tummy. Your immediate family was the only people you’ve seen since the Little’s Program™️. And Emily, of course.
But this was different.
There’s no hiding your status—or your diaper—dressed like this. Emily convinced your Mom it was the perfect outfit to introduce the new you. Some old, some new.
What better way to show your transition to your second babyhood?
As happy as you were to wear one of your old, mature tops, it did absolutely nothing to cover your diaper. Everybody could see just how soggy you were.
You heard a cacophony of voices erupt from the living room. Voices you knew all too well. They weren’t your family—they were your best friends.
“She’s so excited to see everyone!” your Mom says excitedly, “She’s right outside waiting for you!”
Ugh, you didn’t expect this. At least, not today. But the voices were getting louder. There was no escape.
“AHHHHH!!!” your best friend Kate shouted the moment she saw you, “You look adorable, Jules!”
Kate, along with your other gaggle friends immediately surrounded you, cooing and complimenting your new look.
“H-hi…” you blubber, “I didn’t know you girls were coming…”
“Jules, we wouldn’t miss it for the world!” Mary answers.
“Yeah, don’t be silly, Jules! Just because you’re a cutie patootie Little now, doesn’t mean we can't be friends! I wasn’t your friend just because you were potty trained!”
You blush violently. It did mean a lot to hear—losing your friends was one of the things you feared most—but hearing the infantile tone of voice they used didn’t make it any less embarrassing.
“F-fank you!” you say, much more confidently than before, “Itth justh…justh embawassing to be theen wike this, that’s all.”
“You have nothing to be embarrassed about!” Lucy juts in, “Littles need diapers. You’re a Little. And besides, look how cute that diapie is! And it even matches your top!”
The doorbell rings again.
A stampede of aunts, uncles, and cousins storm outside, looking for the guest of honor.
Your friends step away, letting your family get a better look at you. A frenzy of voices ogling at you, to you, and about you fill the backyard. Before you can respond to any one person, another takes their place.
Even if you wanted to say something, you’d have trouble between all the cheek-pinching and hugs.
The last person to see you was your grandma. She’d never admit it to anyone else, but you were always her favorite grandchild.
“Well, hello, Miss Julia,” she says with a loving smile, “So good to see you again, dear.”
“Hi Gammy!” you say running over to her and giving her a hug.
You were so lost in the moment, you didn’t hear any of the “awwws” and “ohhs” at your droopy diaper swaying with each step.
Grandma pats your diaper playfully. “Karen, dear,” she says sternly to your mother, “Her diaper is soaked! I raised you better than to let Julia run around in a drenched diaper.”
Your mom blushes profusely. “These diapers aren’t the old ones you’re used to. That diaper can hold a few more wettings. Besides, these are designed to wick away the wetness so she won’t get any rashes.”
“If you say so, dear.” Grandma says disbelievingly, “I just want what’s best for Julia.”
She winks at you.
Clearly desperate to change to subject, your mom speaks to the party at large. “Now that everyone is here, why don’t we open presents? I’m sure Julia is dying to open them before I put her down for a nap!”
“M-Mommy!” you whimper, “Don’ needa nap today!”
Your Mom chuckles, “We’ll see about that, honey.”
“Julia, dear, come sit on Granny’s lap while you open your presents.”
“Okay, Gammy!” you say, waddling over to her. She lifts you up and sets you on her lap. The group forms a semi-circle around you.
“Let’s see, how about this one?” your Mom says, grabbing a present and looking at the tag, “It’s from Kate, Lucy, and Mary!”
Your friends all perk up, excited to see you open their present.
“We all pooled our money for this! We think you’re gonna love it!”
The package was lighter than you expected. But you tear into it anyway.
It’s a card and a few pieces of paper, the words making no sense to you. All you see are some pictures of pandas, elephants, and tigers.
“Th-thank you!” you say, trying not to make it obvious you got the Tiny Scholars Package™️ and can’t read anymore.”
“Let’s see,” Granny says, taking the paper from you, “Oh my girls, you shouldn’t have! This is too nice!”
“What is it, Gammy?” you whisper.
“It’s a one-year membership to the zoo! And look, it even comes with an all-exclusive meet-and-greet with the animals!”
“Yeah!” Kate shouts, “We know how much you love animals and the zoo, so we figured what better place for Littles than the zoo?”
“Plus,” Mary adds, “You get to meet your favorite animals! You get to go into the panda and penguin exhibit! And after, you can feed the elephants and parrots!”
“And it gets better, Jules! You even get to PLAY with the otters!”
“W-weally?!?” you squeal in excitement, “Pway wif otters?! FANK YOU!!!”
“Awww, you’re welcome, cutie!” Kate says.
“That was very nice of you girls!” your Mom says, “You’ll have to let us know when you have some free time from college and come with us!”
“We’d love to, Mrs. Smith!”
As your Mom looks for another gift, you feel a twang in your stomach.
No, no, no!
“What’s wrong, sweetie?” Grandma asks, feeling you squirm.
“How about this one from your cousins?”
Your Mom stops short, recognizing your face.
“Mom, I think—,” your Mom starts before a loud toot interrupts her.
“Oh, dear, I think someone needs to poopoo!” Grandma laughs.
Before you can even move—your mind begging you to run and hide—your face scrunches up. Your body leans forward as you grunt.
It was one thing to make a boom boom in the privacy of your crib. But this…this was much worse.
There you were, surrounded by family and friends—sitting on Gammy’s lap—making a stinky. You could feel all their eyes on you.
Watching you prove to be the infantile Little you are.
“Mgphfff,” you grunt, pushing a large mass into your diaper.
Your Grandma shifts you on her lap, trying to give your diaper space to accommodate your mess.
“Looks like we might have to postpone presents until after her nap,” your Mom tells everyone, “I’ll put her down after I change her diaper. There is champagne and rose in the fridge!”
“I’ll take care of Juju, Mrs. Smith!” Emily says, “That’s what a Nanny is for. You entertain your guests!”
“Mgphfff,” you grunt again, feeling your tummy start to relax.
You look up at the crowd of enthralled family and friends, covering your face.
“Does Julia have a binky? If she’s anything like she was as a baby, she’s gonna need her binky unless you want a fussy girl.”
“Right here,” Emily says, grabbing your binky from your diaper bag.
“Thanks, dear,” Grandma says, taking the binky and offering you the nipple.
You accept it, needing to calm your nerves and feeling your eyes tear up.
“Let me take her,” Emily says, reaching for you, “I’ll get her into a clean diapie and tuck her in for a nice nap.”
“B-bu!” you whine.
“Don’t worry, Jules,” Kate says, patting your diaper, “We’ll be right here waiting for you after your nap.”
You shove your face into Emily’s neck as she carries you to your nursery.
As much as you want a clean diaper, needing a nap at your own party makes you feel even smaller than your very public poopy.
But as Emily lifts your legs to clean you, your eyes grow heavier and heavier.
Maybe your Mom is right. You are pretty tired…
You don’t even remember Emily tucking you into your crib. Or hear all the coos as your Mom shows the crowd the baby monitor watching over you.
Look at you trying to show your body off to mama like a big girl.. how cute. Come sit on my lap, sweetheart. That’s it, open your legs just a little bit more. You’re such a good girl, aren’t you?
I've been Daddy's coddled little Princess cuck for the better part of a year now. Part of me really needs big kid s*x. But, another part of me really likes the rush of pleasure I feel during rubbies or Horsey with Daddy. I know my kibbles and bits are so sensitive due to being Daddy's coddled, cucky Princess for so long...
But...
What if things get so sensitive that I can't even stand touchies?
I know I'm having dry wet dreams because of Daddy's coddling... Which is a whole other level of humiliation that Daddy's aware of. But Daddy says good girls don't play with themselves, so those dry wet dreams are all I get...
If you’ve followed me for a while you’ve probably seen I’m an immigration lawyer. I wake up everyday and do what I can to stop ice from ripping families apart. It’s only getting worse.
You might have also seen that I made some Dodgers posts when they won the World Series. I’m from Los Angeles. I love Los Angeles.
You’ve probably also seen whats going on in Los Angeles. I’ve never been more proud of that city. They’re standing up to ice trying to rip apart families and kidnap innocent people.
Please go to the No Kings Protests this Saturday. Bring as many people as you can. It’s more important than ever. Show the country this isn’t a minority. We the people won’t allow this to keep happening.
Stand up for your family, friends, and neighbors. For what’s right. Just go.
Show up and join the protests this Saturday.
And if you disagree with me, let me know. Not everyone deserves my captions.
ABDL is about loving, accepting, and supporting someone when they're at their most vulnerable. Everyone deserves that, no matter what they're wearing under their pants or what their immigration status is.
Humiliate me. Embarrass me. Strip me of my dignity, my autonomy, my sense of self.
Make me believe I'm the overgrown toddler you want me to be and nothing more.
But, then, comfort me. Hold me in your arms. Stroke my hair. Rub my back. Kiss my lips. Tell me I'm your good boy, that'll you'll love me forever, that I'm yours.
Build me back up and make me feel loved like no one has before.
"Gah, stop following me around like some lost little puppy!" Caitlin said as she turned around, I got a peek at the 30-year-old woman's Frozen-themed panties as her skirt flipped up when she turned, "I don't play with babies!"
I turned bright red as the insult was hurled in my direction.
"Buh, our Mamas said I hadda stay wif you," I lisped out timidly behind the binky bobbing in my mouth.
Despite being 5 years older than the woman standing over me, despite her juvenile appearance, the wet diaper sagging between my legs declared that she was my superior. And because of that, like any toddler with an older cousin, I desperately wanted to be seen as cool by her.
My pathetic little pleas fell on deaf ears. Caitlin bent down, and tilted my chin up so I was looking at her in the eyes. She blew a bubble with the gum in her mouth as her pigtails wiggled on either side of her face.
Pop
The bubble burst as the younger woman began her lecture.
"Listen to me, little Oliver, I don't care what Mom or Aunt Sheila told me. I may look like a little girl because Mom is punishing me, but I am still much bigger than you."
Caitlin pushed me back onto my padded ass, leaving me on the ground, legs spread, diapered crotch on display. Aggressively, she puts her foot, clad in ruffley ankle socks and light-up, Velcro sneakers right on my groin.
"You're going to do exactly as I say, baby cousin, or I'm going to prove to you that just because I'm little doesn't mean that I'm not in charge."
She pressed her foot deeper into my padded crotch causing me to whimper in pain and arousal.
"Good, now that we have an understanding, go play with your baby toys, diaper butt, while your cool older cousin plays with the dollhouse. Oh, and make sure you're far enough away that I won't smell it when you poop your diapers like the overgrown idiot you are."
I blushed deeply and scurry to another corner of the playroom before thinking to myself that it was going to be a very, very long day.
