Hey guys, this is my first ABDL-story I write, so I hope you enjoy it. The idea is that this will be about the daily life of an adult baby and his partner, who is also an adult baby, in a world where this is, not normal, but “socially allowed”. Because it is supposed to be a diary, I have no idea yet just how far or long i will take this, or how regularly I will update it. This story is set in the UK, but as I am not actually British myself, I apologise in advance for making any mistakes towards the culture, and I am eager to accept your advice. Finally, let me make it very clear that this is NOT real, it is fiction. Anyway, here we go:
Chapter 1: How it all began
My name is James Bates, but you can call me Jim. I am currently a thirteen year old boy, living alone with my mother, in London. These are just the basic facts, but there is something about me that I have never told anyone, because it is something that society still regards as unnatural and weird, and to be honest, it really is kinda weird. It is something that I struggle to understand myself, but it is there, and I doubt that it will ever leave. You see, I would like to be a baby again. There! I said it. I want to go back to those simple times, when I literally didn’t have to worry about anything, not even peeing. I don’t know how this started, or why I want this, but I do.
So some months ago, I decided to see what Google could tell me about this. I do not remember what exactly I was trying to find, or how I got there, but in the end I came across the term Adult Baby, so I googled that. Long story short, I found out about the existence of an entire community of people just like me, who wanted to be kids again. In the days and weeks that followed, I kept looking it up, and I even registered on an online forum. All of this made me realise that I wasn’t alone in this, and that it may not be that weird after all.
Soon after, I began searching the house for old baby items from when I actually was a baby, and I collected a couple of old pacifiers, some bibs, and even some old diapers that miraculously still fitted me. I started using these items, being very carefull to keep everything hidden from my mother, as I didn’t know how she would react. After a couple of weeks, I even went a step further: I bought a new baby bottle. It was weird, buying something that is supposed to be used by kids that have not even celebrated their first birthday yet, knowing it would be purely FOR MYSELF. But I did it anyway. For some time, I used these items like any baby would, and it made me happy. I hid all this in a bag under my bed, believing it to be a secure hidding place.
But one afternoon, when I got home from school, my mother was sitting at the table, waiting for me. She said she wanted to talk to me. I had no idea what this was about, but everything about her, her face, her posture, and her voice, told me this was serious. “I went to clean your room today, and I found a bag under your bed, filled with baby paraphernalia, and I was wondering what meaning these have to you?” She said. She did not look angry though. Just kind, and a little concerned. So I knew that it was safe to tell her. I didn’t have much choice anyway. So I told her everything. I told her how I wanted to be a baby again, and how I had tried to emulate that feeling. I even told her how hard I had been trying to keep it hidden from her, because I was afraid of her reaction.
When I was done talking, she remained silent for a while. It was probably only a couple of minutes, but it felt like an hour. When she finally spoke, she said “If you really, sincerely, wish to be a baby, then you can be a baby.” This stumped me for a second. Was she serious? “really?” I asked. She said “Yes, if that is what will make you happy, then I see no reason not to. It is not like I can stop you anyway, is it?” I did not know how to react. Luckily, I didn’t really need to either, because she started talking about getting my old crib from the attic, and setting it up in her room, so she would be able to keep an eye on her baby. Having done that, we also brought down the old changing table, and set that up as well. It turned out we even had two packs of diapers left. “Those will have to do untill we can get you some bigger diapers.” That evening, mom spoonfed me my dinner, and then gave me a bottle of milk. Wearing one of my old diapers, I almost fell asleep lying against her in the couch, sucking my pacifier. She then said “Time for bed little one!” She lead me upstairs, and proceeded to give me a bath. After that, she put another diaper on me, put on my most babyish looking pyjama’s, and put me in my crib with a pacifier and Booboo, my favorite stuffie. That night, I slept like a baby!