Twitter Story: ABDL Writer's Block (Patreon)

ABDL Writer’s Block

You sit at your computer trying to write, staring at the blank screen.  Completely unsure of what to write.  You want this Tweet to be fun and exciting.  But there’s only so many ways to describe the same action or the same basic scenario again and again.  

And it’s stupid, but you feel like you’ve got people counting on you.  People love your silly little Twitter smuts. They say so.  They like and retweet and follow you for it.

But you just can’t write, today!

So you go to your old standby- media res- and go from there.

You type, “A slight warmth filled the baby’s diaper, and they were completely unaware of it.  Totally, blissfully ignorant of the urine spilling out of their bladder and flooding into their padded underwear.  Except underwear wasn’t a good word. Nothing covered their diaper.”

Then you hit “Tweet”.  

A good start.  Needs more.

You sit back and feel the padding between your legs swell.  You’re soaked.  Were you even wearing a diaper before?  You don’t remember putting one on this morning…  Weren’t you wearing pants before you sent that tweet?

You shake the doubt of your mind, you lean forward into your keyboard and continue.

“Lifting their bum, the baby grunted, groaned, pushed and mushed a mess into the seat of their diaper, not even hearing themselves as they were so caught up in the baby game they were playing.”

Tweet!

You sit back down in your chair, surprised at the smelly mess smushing beneath you.  That’s never happened before!  You’ve pooped in diapers before, sure, but never without knowing it!  You don't how to feel about this. Are you losing your potty training or something?
You’re going to have to shower and change.  Probably back to big kid…err…adult underwear too, just to be safe.

Your fingers dance across the keyboard before you can stop yourself.

“A lifetime (or a few minutes) ago the baby would have changed themselves, but now they were unable to care for themselves any more than a one year old.  They’d have to wait for Mommy or some other REAL Grown-up to change them.  Good thing babies liked wet and messy diapers.”
Tweet!

On second thought, you remember that you don’t know how to take a diaper off all by yourself.  You’ll have to wait for Mommy to get back from work to change you.  You were just pretending as a way to stall and keep yourself from finishing your important work.

“Though deep in thought and imagining that they were sitting at a very professional looking desk at a very fancy computer,” you type, “really the baby was just sitting in their highchair, bib and mouth stained with pablum, playing on Mommy’s phone while she went to the potty.”

Tweet!

The roar of a flushing toilet makes you look up from Mommy’s phone. That meant she was coming! Did she know you’d snuck her phone?  Would you be in trouble?  Get a spanking?  You hope not, but you have to make it worth it just in case!  You wipe the pablum off your mouth.

“But that was okay," you type with your thumbs,  "Mommy loved it when the baby pretended to be a big kid.  She thought it was adorable and precious.  Absolutely charming that a baby would pretend to be a writer while sitting in their highchair.”

She’d play along for a little bit, calling the baby a big kid, and writer, while she cleaned them up.  Then it’d be time for a change, some nice new clothes and off to daycare with all of the other babies that used to think they were adults and got it wrong.”

Tweet!

(The End)

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