Before I resubmit the contents below, I must explain that, though I am not into AB-DL stuff, I don't hold it against anyone who is. You are entitled to your own rights, and what you do is your business. If you are a kind, giving, generous individual, that is all that matters to me. We have too many judges and juries out there, and they consist of hard-nose people in our society, who think that, well, just because they don't believe it is right, they can judge you, cut you off from their circle, isolate you, and shun you practically out of existence, and that is a prison of its own. I am not about to be one of those cold sinics, who read from the book, the one that says, "do not judge others as you would not want to be judged," but then, they go out and gripe, moan, and chastise whoever they feel they can because, in their minds, they are way bigger and much stronger than thou. I know several people who are AB's and I know one DL, and that's okay with me. I will let you do your own thing. Just please, don't push me to get involved. If I had one of my AB friends over, and they know this, they are to do their baby thing in the privacy of either the bedroom or the bathroom, and they agree to change themselves as well out of respect for me. Now for the content.
Though I am not into AB DL personally, I do use my memories of being a poop-loving toddler and reminiscing about those days to cope with my bowel incontinence. I have diarrheal incontinence, but every once in a blue moon, when I have a firm poop, sometimes I will stand in my bathroom, let go in my diaper, and just stand there for a couple minutes or so, enjoying the warmth and the way it is caressed against my butt by the diaper. All of my movements, rubbing, etc., are done in my mind.
When I was a toddler, my favorite poop was the firm stuff that I would push out in my diaper, the kind that, when you sit on the big mass, it flattens slowly into a pancake and though you can't hear it, it sort-of pops and crackles against your butt as it flattens slowly and you can feel it as it does so. As a two-year-old in diapers, if I wasn't rubbing it on my butt, which I referred to often as "pooping my butt," I would sit on the carpeted floor at the top of the stairs and just sit stalk-still as the poop pancaked slowly against my butt and spread to encompass my butt cheeks and my perineum. It felt so good and so warm, and as it spread forward against my perineum, it had a feel to it that I really don't have words to explain, but I will try my best. It definitely felt warm and moist, not too messy, but with some adherance to it. It would stick to my butt and perineum when I stood up. It had a sort-of feel like tiny bumps or something that sort-of made a soft, slow scratching feeling with a great deal of upward pressure when I leaned forward and it spread along my perineum. I also like the smell of that dry pebble poop that a lot of milk drinking toddlers fill their diapers with, a sort-of dry earthy smell that isn't all too unpleasant.
I must also include that size matters too with a lot of these kids who enjoy their poop. As with my two-year-old little brother and my little nephew, too, they both like firm balls of poop the approximate size of tennis balls. So did I when I was around that age. Another thing I liked about the tennis-ball-poop was the fact that, if you were standing up and the natural pull of gravity made the poop slide slowly down to the lowest point in your diaper (the narrow part between the inner thighs on a standing child,) you could sway slowly from side-to-side on your fat toddler legs, and when the bulk of the diaper came in contact with one inner thigh or the other, depending on which way you were swaying at the time, the poop ball would shift slowly to the left or the right on your perineum as you swayed to the right and to the left. If you move to the right, the poop would shift to the left, and when you move to the left, it would shift to the right.
Another thing I found pleasurable with the tennis-ball poops is when, if I was wearing pants over my diaper, and say that I had just pooped, I could squat not all the way down to the floor, but half-way, and when the butt of the jeans drew tight due to the flexing of my legs at both the hips and the knees, it would push the warm poop ball forward from my butt crack to about the half-way mark of my perineum, between my butt and scrotum. I would remain in that position for at least three seconds before standing back up slowly, thus releasing the tension on the butt of my pants and allowing my poop to return to its original position. Then, about five or six seconds later, I would repeat this activity. I really did enjoy this, and I always made sure that I was away from people so they wouldn't know I had pooped. To this day, not a single family member knows I did this sort of stuff as a toddler.