[CWIS'S NOTE] Since moving to upstate New York and onto a boat (seven months out of the year), I've had ten amazing members of our community come visit. That means I've met more local ABDLs here in two months than I met in my former city in more than nine years.
I love the people I've met here so far, and I have to say that when you're fortunate enough to carve out a little ABDL community, you're fortunate enough.
Since I began posting the pics of our boat get-togethers I've had people from as far away as Europe hit me up about visiting in the future - so many messages, actually, from all over. Many of the messages are from people saying things like "so fucking jealous" - some more in jest, and others in total seriousness.
All I will say is, as someone once on the outside looking in, start off small - meet one person, and keep connecting from there. I started off with one, and there were seven of us at our last gathering. And they promise to keep getting bigger...
I really began getting a lot of responses when I posted a few pictures this past week: a series of photos of some of our little party-goers snuggling in Hugs in the 'cuddle cabin', followed by a Tumblr post and posts on the secret Facebook groups featuring someone new, Z, doing pull-ups from the hard-top framing in the cockpit.
Some of you said you were just now realizing these gatherings were taking place on a cabin cruiser; I suspect some others are just interested in Z. So, today, more about Z...
"Z"
Z is a college freshman here in the area. I messaged him on Fetlife, along with a few dozen other ABDLs across upstate New York earlier this month.
A few days later he got back to me. That's when I took a closer look at his profile: one picture - a faceless pic featuring someone, shirtless, with incredible abs.
Sure, I thought - this picture is real. Not.
Next I looked through his activity: almost nothing - around a dozen friends, and one whole note in the last five months.
Sigh... so fake.
Still, I decided to continue talking to this little fakester, if only because I've learned that people in our community often use fake pictures simply because they're still too apprehensive to use real ones. This was probably a real person on the other end of the conversation, right? As long as he was at least really ABDL and over 18, I didn't mind humoring a little conversation.
Z told me that he was interested in making the trip out to the boat. There was just one problem, he said: he had no car. Or, driver's license. So he'd need a ride - and he was almost an hour away.
I've been flaked on before - more than once, actually. More than once in the last 30 days, tbh. I understand the nervousness that pervades our community when it comes to meeting in person, so I try not to take it personally, and don't get angry at people who don't follow through with what they say they're going to do. So if someone said they were going to meet me somewhere I was already going to be anyway and they didn't show - no big deal. I'll give just about anyone a second chance. Some a third, fourth, and... you get the idea.
Still, I'd be damned if I was going to drive nearly an hour for this.
By this time Z and I were texting. I told him it was too bad that he was so far away, and suggested that I might be out in his city at some point in the future, but I wasn't sure when. He suggested that he could find his own way out to my city if he had to, and I had to laugh - I knew people who'd lived here all their lives who couldn't find their way from his campus to the boat, or back.
"I doubt it," I told him. "It's further than you think."
"I'm very resourceful," he retorted. "If I say I'm going to get somewhere, I get there. You'll see."
I fully expected I'd be proven right, but I decided to take a chance. I told him I was off the next Monday, and he was welcome to come out after classes if he wanted. He wanted. Now he just needed to figure out a way to get here.
"There's a bus that goes to NYC and it stops there, right near your boat," he texted later. "I'm going to take that. I'll be at the Cigar Shop at 5:20. Can you pick me up from there?"
"Sure," I told him. "If you make it there, I'll pick you up."
In my mind, I was wondering exactly who this person was I might be picking up.
"Do you want me to send you my ID or anything?" he texted later. "I can send it over text. To prove my age."
By this point I'd had time to think, and my doubts had begun to get the best of me. Stolen model pic. Only one photo. Almost no friends. No profile activity. No Tumblr, no other diaper sites...
"Sure, send me your ID," I replied. In my head I was thinking, Sure, send me some ID pic you found on the internet that will make me think you're a real person. Shortly afterward Z sent the pic: a learner's permit belonging to some adorable kid from a southern state.
Right...
I wondered who the kid in the ID was. He was cute.
I guess he could have come all the way here to go to school, I told myself.
I wanted him to be real. But my doubt was only growing.
We continued talking, all the same. We talked about what a visit might entail, and I got a real sense that he hadn't read my blog before. I suggested that, among other things, we could take pictures.
"No face," he told me immediately.
"No problem," I told him. "We don't have to do pictures at all. But if we do, you'll have some actual diaper pictures for your profile."
"Oh, I don't want them," Z told me. "I'm really not into social media."
Okay, so what college freshman isn't into social media?
"But you have my permission to use them for your social media," he continued, "and whatever purposes you want them for."
Who was this person?!
When Monday rolled around and the weather was absolutely fucking beautiful, one of those sunny, warm fall days you know will be among the last you'll see for a while.
Needless to say, I was kind of irritated. It wasn't like I was driving the hour to his city or anything, but still, the five-minute drive from the marina to the Cigar Shop would require that I shower, get dressed, get in the car, and drive away from the lakefront. I was having a great day, and I told myself - whoever this pretender was had better actually show up, at least. If I got left sitting in my car at the bus stop...
A few hours before the designated meeting time Z sent me a text. It was a mirror selfie pic.
"It's a picture of what I'll be wearing," he texted. "So you'll know it's me."
I had to admit, this was definitely the same person from the driver's license. Was this kid actually real?
Or was I about to be flaked on by someone who'd gone through a tremendous amount of effort to fake a persona, complete with learner's permit, mirror selfies, and more? What level of catfishing was going on here?
That seemed crazy - but I knew people it's happened to.
I got into the car to make the five-minute drive to find out.
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I was halfway to the Cigar Shop when I spotted him. The died blond hair was unmistakable, and I noticed him from quite a distance. As I got closer, I saw that he was wearing the same outfit from the selfie.
I couldn't stop - there was traffic - but as I passed I saw he was actually walking away from the Cigar Shop.
The kid appeared to be real, but something was up.
Then he texted me.
I'll be there in 15 minutes.
This person was beginning to appear to be legit. This was happening...
I texted back to ask him where he was, and he texted back to say that he really didn't know - he was lost. I told him to just meet me in front of the hotel I'd seen him walking by, and when I rolled up he was standing there, under the bus stop, with what I expected must be a diaper bag in his hands.
"Z? Cwis..."
He got into the car, turned to me, and gave me a big hug - and flashed an even bigger smile.
"I told you I'm resourceful," he told me, beaming. "When I say I'm going to get to somewhere, I get there."
The look of satisfaction on his face had me smiling - he could tell I'd doubted him, and I sensed that his journey to my city had been an adventure of sorts, to prove the nay-sayers wrong.
This. Kid. Was. Fucking. Adorable.
I'd
just met Mono for the first time the previous week - I'd also thought he would be a flake, and was pleasantly surprised to find that he actually showed up. After Mono, and after finally meeting Choo Choo
earlier in the summer, and meeting
Lakhota and his friends the previous month, I was feeling pretty damn lucky. And now
this?
We made the drive back to the boat, Z entertaining me with stories about himself the whole way. He talked very much the same way that he texted - entire conversations all at once.
"You can stop me if I'm rambling," he told me. "I do that sometimes - ramble." He seemed embarrassed, and got quiet for a moment.
"You can ramble as much as you like," I told him.
Part of me wanted to tell him that I was so relieved that he was real, and really who he purported to be, that he could talk about just about anything. It turned out I wouldn't need to say anything - as we drove, and then made our long walk down the dock to the boat, he talked about just about everything.
I realized that a full day/night with this kid was going to be an entertaining experience. He had stories on top of stories, and he told all of them with a big grin. He knew he was amusing me, and he seemed to be enjoying it.
Once we got to the boat he turned to me and put his arms by his sides. He'd been telling me stories about international travel and his school and family and - well, so many other things lol - but when we stepped aboard into the salon he got quiet and I could almost see his face go from 'big' to 'little' mode. Hell yea...
"Are you wearing a diaper?" I asked him, as I rubbed his shoulders.
"Where would I get a diaper?" he asked me, practically rolling his eyes.
"I don't know," I replied. "You said you're resourceful... I just figured you might have some in your dorm room or something." Z shook his head.
I took his hand and lead him into the 'nursery' - actually the boat's aft cabin where one twin bed has been converted to a toddler bed/crib of sorts - and watched as his eyes lit up when he saw an assortment of diapers. And then he saw the toddler rail and practically beamed.
This was going to be a lot of fun...
I took Z's top off, and then removed his shorts and his underwear. I half hoisted him up onto the bed - it doubles as a changing table - and then it was time for a change.
Z laid back and closed his eyes, and I took a closer look at his body. This kid was cut - holy fuck. I've diapered some fit people in all my days of babysitting, but Z was by far the most chiseled, defined li'l squirt I'd encountered on a changing table. I realized at once that his Fet profile pic wasn't a stolen model pic - it was him.
If I had half that body I'd have my Fetlife profile plastered with diaper pictures. And you'd better believe I'd be on all the other sites, too. I got to snapping, careful not to include anything with his face. He lay there, in all of his adorableness, with a peaceful grin on his face, and I realized that, even with that body, his smile was his best feature - cropping it out of the picture seemed wrong. Still, I understood where he was coming from - faceless it would be.
"You are about to become one popular little dude on Tumblr," I told him.
"Why's that?" he asked me in all seriousness.
"Because these pictures are going to be share worthy."
"You mean for your Tumblr," he reminded me. "I'm not on Tumblr."
"Well, with these pictures, you should probably consider it," I suggested.
"No, I'm okay," he replied. "Like I said, I'm just not that into social media. These pictures are for you."
I wanted to give him a hug.
I think I may have given him one, actually.
"You can at least put them on your Fetlife," I prodded.
(The one I was so sure was fake just earlier that day).
"Oh, that's okay," he replied.
"Well, I'll at least link to it from my blog," I offered. I was starting to feel a little guilty now. These were going to be some amazing pics - and all for me? That didn't seem fair.
"I don't really care about popularity," he told me. "I'm not into promotion. I just talk to people and meet people if I want to. I really just want to be little..."
It occurred to me that all of this talk about social media probably wasn't doing much in the regression department, so I changed the subject, telling him I expected he would feel little in just a moment.
"That's good," he told me, laughing this adorable little laugh. "I'm a two year old, trapped in the mind of a 12 year old, trapped in the body of an 18 year old."
"I'll keep that in mind," I promised.
After Z was freshly diapered I lead him up into the salon. I'd had toys and coloring books laid out from the boat party the day before, and I asked him to choose a coloring book and color a picture.
"You're supposed to choose," he told me. I could sense the difference in his voice already - just being diaper-clad had subtracted some serious years off this kid's psyche. He reluctantly selected a book and lay down on his tummy, beginning to color. I flipped on the flat-screen and turned on Boss Baby, and he began to watch it with what seemed like genuine interest.
A little while later the coloring project was done, and Z scampered up onto the settee for some more movie watching. I've put cartoons on TV during abysitting before, with mixed results: some abies seem to watch them reluctantly because they feel like that's what they're supposed to do, and others are genuinely interested. I'd never seen someone become totally (legitimately) engrossed in one before, but as I prepared a baby bottle I watched Z tune everything else out as he giggled at the antics of the Boss Baby, Big Fat Boss Baby, and the rest of the crew at BabyCorp.
"Have you seen this before?" I asked. He shook his head and continued to watch and, his bottle heated, sat up to position himself in a way that he could slurp on his milk and continue watching at the same time.
After his bottle was empty we spent some time hanging out down below, talking about our ABDL likes and dislikes. He seemed totally comfortable just lounging in his diaper, and his level of relaxedness put me at ease, as well.
I couldn't help but think about how I'd doubted someone I'd talked to online twice this week, and how I'd been proven wrong both times. Just a week before I'd been sure Mono would flake, and been surprised when he'd actually showed up at the gas station. Today I'd thought sure I'd be left at the Cigar Shop with nothing but the aroma of cigars, only to find an adorable little diaper dunce waiting for me.
How lucky was I?
Things were really shaping up in upstate New York...
After talking for what seemed like hours I invited Z to join me up on deck - in what I was hoping would be just a diaper. I fully expected him to beg off, or reach for his shorts, or at least a shirt - he was, after all, 18 and still somewhat new to all of this.
When he crawled past his clothing and scampered up the stairs I had to smile. I followed him and sat down, baby bottle in hand, and told him to lie down. He dutifully lay down across my lap and I put the bottle between his lips. He slurped on it for a minute, eyes closed and a peaceful look on his face. Then he stopped, opened his eyes, looked up at me, and asked for permission to reposition.
Moments later Z was somehow curled up in my lap, arm around my neck, positioned in a way that resulted in me practically holding him.
"Is that comfortable?" I asked him.
"I'm a contortionist," he replied. "I can twist up all kinds of ways. And yes - very."
With that we sat back, one of us guzzling all of the warm milk his tummy could handle, and the other rubbing his belly, and his forehead, and tousling his hair. Water lapped up against the boat, and I kept a wary eye out for any boats coming down the channel. There were none.
"I feel lucky as shit right now," I finally said.
"Me too," Z replied. I could tell he meant it.
After his bottle we just lounged in the cockpit. A cool breeze began to draft off of the lake, and he pulled himself closer to me, sort of cuddling me in the process. That's when I realized that Z wasn't joking about being a contortionist - he wrapped his feet around me somehow, and I found that instead of me just holding and cuddling him, I was the one being cuddled.
It felt amazing.
I didn't want it to end - I felt completely at peace.
He let out a big yawn, and I stopped rubbing his tummy long enough to ask him if he was getting sleepy. He nodded, smiling, and I told him it was time for bed.
"In the crib?" he asked, excitedly.
"Of course," I replied.
He practically bounded down the steps into the aft cabin, scampered up into the crib, and lay there, smiling.
I rubbed his stomach for a little while, until he seemed to zone off, and then climbed up into my bed - a more 'grownup' version on the other side of the cabin - and lay there for a while, feeling amazing.
I looked over at the outline of this kid, laying contentedly in his crib, paci in his mouth. We'd been talking for less than a week, and I'd been so sure he was a fake, and here he was, real - and so dope.
There are more than 1,400 four-year colleges in the United States. I thought about how glad I was that Z had chosen the college he'd chosen over all of the others - he was within a bus ride of a place he could come transform into a two-year old anytime, and I'd get to be the sitter.
How lucky am I?
TO BE CONTINUED...
