Izzy and Jacob fall backward and look at the popcorn-textured ceiling above their heads in their motel room. “I am glad you’re okay,” Jacob says, his hand touching the softness of his diaper for comfort.
“I am glad you’re okay too.” Izzy turns and lays her head in the crook of Jacob’s arm. She turns and puts her head into his armpit and smells him. He smells different; mostly it’s the baby powder, but part of it is he is just familiar.
They hold each other and spend the time to catch up and renew the connection between them. Izzy doesn’t tell Jacob that she went to the bar first to stuff herself before rescuing him. In return, Jacob doesn’t tell Izzy anything about what happened in the nursery involving Scarlet. They both independently agree this would only stir up problems. But they share everything else.
As it gets late, Jacob removes his thick diaper. Immediately he feels vulnerable, the comfort and thickness between his legs gone. He thinks about Audrey.
‘What are you doing right now?’ He questions the universe.
The MilkMaid
Audrey snaps to life; she turns the lights up to a medium brightness with a lean towards warm white. “Hello, Scarlet, how may I help you?”
“The usual,” Scarlet says as she unbuttons her dress. She turns and lays it on the changing table. Her eyes look down at her bra and her swollen breasts, ‘more swollen and more veiny every day.’ She sighs and unhooks the bra, tossing it on the floor. She lies back in the nursing chair.
“Sure thing,” Audrey says, and sets up the breast pump, bringing the cups to Scarlet’s breasts and setting them in place. She turns on the machine. A whisper of a hum is all you hear as the pumps do their magic.
“Thanks,” Scarlet says, laying her head back in the chair.
“You were much too rough with Jacob,” Audery says in her poodle skirt and Mary Jane shoes.
“I can’t help it,” Scarlet whispers, looking up at the ceiling. The milking machine is forcefully drawing her sensitive nipples deeper into the cups.
“I will no longer assist you with your needs if you continue harassing him in this fashion.” Audrey kneels in front of Scarlet and the bulge in her thong that barely contained her erection.
“It’s not my fault something about him is so submissive. I can’t help but picture doing all sorts of things to him.” She smirks, “He is just so submissive.”
“I can imagine why you think this way. However, I insist from now on.” Audrey pauses and then runs her fingers across the painfully trapped member. “I want you to promise you will be good.”
Scarlet looks down past her breasts being pumped, milk visibly being squirted inside the cup with each cycle of vacuum to Audrey’s very stern expression. “Just help me out, would you?” she half-heartedly begs.
Audrey pulls the thong out of the way and proceeds to stroke the cock slowly up and down, lubricating it. Scarlet attempts to pull her hair and drag Audery’s mouth to her cock, but she isn’t able to move her an inch. “Not until you promise,” Audrey says.
Scarlet sighs deeply. “Fine, I promise to control my urges around Jacob.” She feels Audery’s lips touching her cock and then the tongue swirling around her urethra. She sighs as Audrey begins her typical cum milking routine. Start at the tip and work it all the way in before swirling and sucking as she pulls it out of her mouth before going back down. The breast pump makes its soft hum in sync with Audrey’s motion.
Scarlet moans, ‘I feel like a cow; I can’t wait till I’m not pregnant.’ She grabs Audrey’s hair and pulls her till the caretaker deep throats her length. While other women would have an issue deep-throating Scarlet for any duration of time. Audrey just stops breathing while she expertly milks the feminine penis.
Audrey can feel Scarlet beginning to tense. “Where would you like the cum?” the speakers in the room say as Audrey’s actual mouth is currently full. In response, Audrey feels Scarlet pull tightly on her head and grind her hips until Scarlet cums forcefully and voluminously down her throat.
“Fuck, this is always so hot,” Scarlet says, her chest rising and falling with quick, short breaths.
Audrey gets out a baby wipe and cleans up the mess, tucking Scarlet’s now soft penis back in place and reloading the trap by moving the thong in position. After 15 more minutes, the pumping is complete, and Scarlet gets up and gives Audrey a kiss.
“See you in 6 hours, my milkmaid,” she says with a selfish grin.
Audrey goes and cleans up. “I miss Jacob,” she whispers as she moves to the center of the room and powers down.
The Cat Who Walked with War
The Cat stands behind the bar as usual, this blue tail hidden under the bar, flicking back and forth. Scarlet and Dr. Blob are sitting in front of him. “What’s your weekend plans, Scarlett?” the Cat asks, only half interested. He eyes her belly; it’s even bigger than before. ‘A pharaoh would have needed but one Scarlet to make an entire army,’ he thinks, making himself laugh, and Scarlet just looks at him.
“Hopefully giving birth, I am about to explode.” She rubs her belly.
“Sounds… messy,” the Cat says like it’s chewing gum stuck to the bottom of a shoe. “And you, Dr. Blob?” the Cat inquires.
“Hopefully sampling the authentic gas station experience.” The blob is sitting with its top half leaning on the bar and the bottom half slumped on the stool with a brochure for Jim’s gas open in front of him.
“Oh, that sounds delightfully human,” the Cat grins widely. “Who are you taking with you?”
Dr. Blob looks around the room with a single eyestalk. “I suppose I could ask Izzy.“
Scarlet scoffs, “She thinks she is so special, but she’s not.”
The Cat frowns at Scarlet. “There was a time they said the same thing about you.”
Scarlet swipes her hand over the register; it beeps. “And now you’re boring me.” She waddles away.
Dr. Blob jiggles. “What an entirely disagreeable human.”
Mars, the remembered but hardly worshiped, sits down at the bar. “I also found the new woman unworthy; she has nothing of interest.”
The Cat gets a half-gallon beer in an aluminum can for the god: “She is new; she has not adapted yet,” he says.
The giant of a man drinks the beer in one long draught. “She lacks the warrior spirit,” he says, lifting his chin in confidence.
Dr. Blob watches as the god crushes the can into a small metal ball. “Interesting,” he burbles. He extends an extra eyestalk and watches as the god rubs the ball smooth with the skin of his hand.
The Cat grins, “Are you still fighting with Scarlet? She has the“ he coughs unconvincingly” warrior spirit you’re looking for”. He places another beer down in front of the god.
“The war continues.” The corners of Mars’ mouth turn upward. He wishes he felt as confident he could win this war as he was that Izzy is nothing but a regular woman.
“I bet it does, buddy.” He sets another beer down in front of the god.
The wind can’t go through this door.
“Let’s explore,” it says softly. It looks out between the gap between the door and the doorjamb. The next moment there wasn’t a door there, and there was no trace a door was ever there.
The next instant a door appears in the motel room of Izzy and Jacob. A squeak of a door hinge wakes Jacob, and he looks at it confused. He looks around the room, then back to the mystery door.
The door is from a restroom at a convenience store in Alaska; precipitation forms on the surface. Jacob gets up and moves closer to the door; he reaches out to touch it.
“No touch,” a voice whispers, and the door disappears and reappears in the bedroom of Jack Herrington. It peers around the doorjamb, curious to what the sound it is hearing is. The noise is a rhythmic slap and a small whine.
“I told you not to be mean to him.” The gruff voice of the general growls. The bodyguard bent over his knee. A red satin thong revealed the bodyguard’s cheeks are also bright red.
“I’ll be good, I promise,” the bodyguard whimpers.
The voice in the door makes awful noises that sound like “yrrggllll nuh nuh nuh no.” The door blinks to a new location.
Unbearable pressure pushes on the door; water streams through the gap on the sides. It makes a gurgling noise and blinks to a new location.
The door appears in a room decorated in marble with red decorations. He looks out into the room of the god Mars.
“Well, what have we here?” Mars stands up and looks at the door. The door belongs to a club called the tiki bar. Its faux reed construction shows signs of age.
“No bad place, bad place,” it says, the door trying to blink out, but every time it tries, it is pulled back.
“No, you don’t get to escape that easily,” Mars says as he moves closer. “I have seen many, many things, but you are something new.”
“Bad place, I go far away.” The door poofs for an instant and then is pulled back.
“I told you it wouldn’t be that easy.” The god touches the crunchy reed façade of the door.
“help” It croaks, and the door opens. The 2000 gallons of water that poured into it when it was underwater came rushing out in a deluge, knocking Mars to the ground. He whacks his head on his pretentious throne chair. The door closes and is gone.
It hides behind the door, refusing to look out. It thinks about the mobile home that it had attached itself to and traveled halfway across the state of Nebraska; it had been a fascinating ride.
The small abandoned town he had spent many years exploring before that, the old wooden buildings slowly falling down until he was lying down on his back looking up at the sun.
The train had brought it out to the middle of nowhere. It likes trains; it has been to every major city in the United States at some point or other.
It peers around the corner and sees shelves filled with packaged snacks and magazines. “Where is this? Is quiet, is nice.”
