If you’ve been following my stories on Crinkle Cat Tales, you know I love weaving fantasies that dive deep into the AB/DL and babyfur worlds — full of care, control, and those delicious power dynamics that make our hearts (and other parts) race. But today, I’m stepping out from behind the keyboard to share something a bit more personal. After all, the best fiction often springs from real experiences, right? Let’s talk about my recent attempt to flip the script on my usual role in the community.
I’ve been padding around in the AB/DL scene for over two decades now, and if you’ve ever crossed paths with me at a con or social gathering, you might have noticed I’m often the one calling the shots. Whether it’s organizing room parties, leading panels, or just being that steady presence in a room full of littles and caregivers, control comes naturally to me. It’s comfortable, like slipping into a fresh diaper after a long day. But lately, I’ve been craving something different — a chance to let go, to surrender that control and slip into a more submissive headspace. Sounds simple enough, huh?
Spoiler: it’s not. It’s been way more challenging than I anticipated, like trying to unlearn a habit that’s been crinkled into my very being.
Recently, I carved out some quiet time to relax and really dig into my role as a switch — why I’ve defaulted to topping for so long, and why submission feels like such an uphill climb. For decades, outside the AB/DL realm, I’ve fought tooth and nail to be the one in control of my own destiny. I grew tired of bending to the whims of others — family expectations, work colleagues, all those demands to keep everyone else satisfied while I never paused to ask, What makes me happy? What do I want? That constant subservience left scars, and topping became my armor. But the more I immerse myself in AB/DL-friendly safe spaces, the clearer it becomes: true autonomy isn’t just about holding the reins — it’s having the independence to choose to set them down. To decide, on my own terms, to let go.
This is bigger than a sexual rendezvous for me. It’s about belonging to a community that finally gives me permission to explore a side that’s been neglected for far too long —the part that aches to be held, guided, and yes, even commanded, without losing myself in the process.
That realization hit home at BabyFurCon this year. Picture this: I’m there, soaking in the vibes, surrounded by all the adorable fursuiters, diaper checks, and that unique energy only our community can muster. But oops — turns out I’d accidentally left myself logged into Recon, a gay fetish hookup app I thought I’d closed before heading out. Before I knew it, a message popped up from this incredibly attractive pup who identified as a top. He asked if I was at the con and interested in meeting up. I won’t drop his name here—privacy is key in our world — but let’s just say his profile had me intrigued. We chatted a bit online about potentially having some fun, and soon enough, we connected in person for a quick hello.
The real spark happened toward the end of the con, during one of those electric DJ dance events on Sunday. Out of nowhere, he appeared behind me, his pup hood on, and started massaging my shoulders. Oh, folks, it was incredible. His hands were strong, knowing exactly where to press, and I just leaned into it. I got completely lost in the sensation, my mind wandering to what it would be like if we took that energy somewhere more private. Imagining him exploring me, claiming me, while I just surrendered — it was a rush. The thought of someone else holding dominion over my body, deciding when and how, was thrilling and terrifying all at once. But in that moment, I wanted it. I craved that level of trust, that release.
Sadly, fatigue hit me like a ton of bricks, and we didn’t get to connect before everyone packed up and headed home. It left me reflecting on the whole experience, though. Being part of this community has opened doors for me to explore these headspaces in ways I never could otherwise. Wearing diapers isn’t just a kink — it’s a gateway to vulnerability. It’s easy to picture someone else taking charge of that aspect, incorporating it into a power dynamic where they control the changes, the checks, maybe even the teasing. But maintaining that submissive mindset? That’s the tough part, especially when there’s no one there to enforce it physically. Without that presence — the touch, the commands, the reassurance — it’s like trying to hold onto a dream as you wake up.
This adventure has definitely inspired some new story ideas for Crinkle Cat Tales. If you’ve had similar experiences switching roles or dipping your toes into submission, I’d love to hear about it in the comments or on Bluesky. Let’s keep the conversation going and support each other in exploring what makes us tick.