Other Fetishes

--- Chapter 21 --- Charlie awoke to the smell of coffee, and he blinked in surprise; that smell didn’t usually reach his room. He sat up in the open crib and looked over to see Greg sitting in the rocking chair with a mug of coffee, reading from a tablet. He glanced up, nodding to his brother. “Morning,” he stated calmly. Charlie squinted, looked around to see if anyone else was here, and his brother laughed. “We’re alone.” “Cool, cool,” he replied as he yawned, shifting to the edge of his crib and stretching his arms above his head. “So… what the hell are you doing in here?” “Making sure you don’t avoid me,” Greg grinned. “Like you did last night.” Charlie opened his mouth, slapping his hand on his chest in mock offense, but ended up laughing as he jumped onto the ground to his feet. He had feigned being very tired by the end of the dinner so they would hurry it up, but he had played a little too hard into it and ended up falling asleep in the car seat. He barely had the energy to get ready for bed, let alone finish the conversation he had started before dinner. He let out a few chuckles as he recalled that, walking over to his brother as he unzipped and stepped out of his pajamas. “To be fair,” he started as he shook the garment off his foot, then gestured to the diaper tapes as he grabbed the front and back. “I was more interested in ending the girls’ gab-fest than avoiding you.” “I figured,” the Amazon said as he leaned forward, pulling off the tapes, but smirked as he settled back into the chair. “Still. I wouldn’t put it past you.” “Fair,” Charlie rolled his eyes as he waddled towards the bathroom, awkwardly holding the diaper up from the front and back. Then, at about the halfway point, he gave up and dropped the diaper, walking the rest of the way nude as Greg laughed. He turned on the tub to rinse off, and he popped his head out, seeing his brother rolling up the diaper, and he arched an eyebrow. “You turned Veronica off again, didn’t you?” “Yeah,” Greg admitted quickly as he looked over, giving an apologetic look. “I don’t know when people are going to start arriving, and I just wanted to be safe.” “Then what the hell is guest mode for?” he scoffed. “It’s a modified guest mode,” the Amazon sighed, dumping the diaper in the pail. “I’m just worried people will realize that.” “You mean Sarah,” Charlie mused. “Yes,” Greg shyly replied. “Bold of you last night, by the way,” the Little brother observed loudly as he stepped into the tub. There was a significant delay in response as Greg moved towards the door and leaned against the outside wall, while Charlie slapped shampoo in his hair and rubbed. “You didn’t mind,” he teased, slipping his hands into his pockets and looking down at his feet. “I will literally never turn down making people uncomfortable by drinking,” Charlie chuckled, walking around the tub with the water knee-high and grabbing the soap. “The only thing that could make that better is by putting it in a sippy cup or bottle.” “I’ll keep that in mind,” Greg laughed. Charlie grinned, sudsing up the soap and began applying it over his hairless body. “But seriously - what’s your game with her?” the Little sniffed. “She’s nice, she cares… and she’s trying,” he swallowed, shifting his lips to the left in thought. “I’d like to see how flexible she is.” There was a pause before Charlie let out a loud laugh, and Greg smirked, shaking his head. “You know what I mean.” “Hey, both meanings are important!” Charlie cackled, unplugging the drain so the water could start to drain. He then dove into the water, rinsing off his hair and body simultaneously, and broke the surface water, mouthing a roar as he emerged. Grinning at himself, he did a spot check of soap, then watched the water begin to circle. “Do you like her?” There was a long pause. Greg glared at the floor, annoyed at himself for the answer. “I think so.” Charlie nodded, silently stepping out of the tub. Since the moment Greg went on a date, he had prepared himself for this possibility. He wouldn’t lie to himself that he was disappointed it was happening so quickly, but from the first day of his second wave of semi-adulthood, he had told himself it was temporary. He pulled the dangling towel down and roughly ran it over his hair, then wrapped it around his body. He glanced at the floor, steeling himself for the rest of this interaction. “Okay,” he said as he stepped up to the door frame, shooting his brother a smile. “I promise, Charlie, if she can’t handle –” “One thing at a time, Greggy,” Charlie insisted, waving a dismissive hand as he strode past, heading towards the dresser. He wanted to tell him she wouldn’t be able to handle the truth. She may have bent to appease him, but that was all within the framework that Charlie was a Little with maturosis. Accepting him, them, their situation – that was a much larger leap than letting him have a little wine. But he couldn’t rob his brother of a real chance for happiness, even if it was at his own expense. It wasn’t like he didn’t know how to navigate her… but he would miss this. The casual interactions. “Let’s just take it a step at a time.” Greg nodded and pushed off the wall, as he too fell into his own thoughts. He was conflicted on having feelings for Sarah. Last night had proven she was more than just a fevering Amazon; she could match him, in some ways, and she was showing she could, and most importantly, would, adapt. He glanced over at his brother as he grabbed his coffee and tablet; he frowned, watching him pull out baby-themed clothes, and Greg closed his eyes for a moment, clenching his jaw. “Fuck,” he mumbled to himself, his grip tightening on the mug, and he began to make haste to leave. He needed to think and sort out what to do. “Oh, NOW you leave?” Charlie jeered as he grabbed a diaper, shaking it at him. “Well, yeah, you’ve got this part down pretty well,” the Amazon grinned and disappeared into the hall. Each brother paused out of sight of the other, grateful for a moment of peace to ponder.   The two brothers were eating their cereal in silence. Greg was flitting all over the place. Before yesterday, he had been certain that while he appreciated Sarah, he would not let it go beyond that. Yet either he had been lying to himself, unaware of his attraction to her, or her engagement last night had made a strong impression on him. He frowned at his cereal, reminding himself of her career, her views, and how often she judged him and Charlie. He imagined trying to tell her the truth, and not even in his completely controlled mind could he see a scenario where she accepted it. He thought about how he and Charlie had to covertly talk in the night, turning off the baby monitor and making secret codes to communicate with each other during the day… he thought about having to do that again, maneuvering Sarah, all for the sake of a relationship. He grimaced, closing his eyes as he pivoted to the fundraiser. A no less worrisome topic, though thankfully had a strict end time. He reviewed the speech in his head, then the guest list, then the timeline, letting out a small sigh. Meanwhile, Charlie was trying to write his name with the alphabet cereal. “Where the hell are the V’s?” he grumbled as he used his spoon to push away the many X’s. “Huh?” the Amazon blinked, looking up from his bowl as he broke away from recalling the last email he had read from Saki. “There are like… no V’s in my bowl,” Charlie complained, looking at the name CHALIE ANKO in the center of his milk, and he pursed his lips. “Or R’s. Do you have any?” “Go fish,” Greg grinned, eating a spoonful without looking at any of the letters. Charlie curled his nose up, and the Amazon laughed. “Cut an X in half.” “Wha …” Charlie gaped and looked down at the pool of X’s. “…Damn, that’s a good idea.” “I have them sometimes,” he chuckled, scooping an R he happened to spot and leaned forward, dumping it into Charlie’s bowl, who gave a flourish of his hand in thanks. The Little brother tilted his head to the side, dissatisfied with how small the impromptu V was compared to the other letters, but he shrugged as he determined it was good enough. He scooped up his mostly complete name (CHARLIE vANKO) and ate it. “So,” Greg started as he took in a breath, his mind focusing now that he had been pulled from the spiral. “Fulcrum.” “Damnit,” Charlie grumbled, jabbing his spoon into the milk. “You seriously thought I’d forget?” the Amazon laughed. “Not forget,” the Little admitted, looking off to the side. “Just… wait until, I don’t know, not today.” “I’d prefer the distraction,” Greg replied dryly, looking in the opposite direction in thought, hoping to cast aside the many topics in his mind for at least a few hours. “Where do you want to start?” Charlie sighed, collecting as many letters onto his next spoonful as possible. “Wherever you’d like,” the brother shrugged. “You’ll know better than me what makes sense.” “Uh-huh,” Charlie deadpanned and shoved the mountain in his mouth, chewing slowly as he thought about the different starting points. He glared once, shook his head another, then swallowed as he nodded. “All right, so,” he heaved, setting his spoon down and pinching his nose a few times to scratch it. “Fulcrum is a… nomadic, distributed… thing. Organization. Resistance. Whatever. I don’t know the whole — all of it — but it’s just as much a clan or family as a lot of Little trailer camps are out there. You can be born in it, marry into it, or be recruited, though the last option is usually kept at a distance. Like, online or remote only. Likely what that person was trying to get you to be.” Greg nodded as he listened. “There are several ‘camps’ across the country and maybe beyond, I don’t know,” Charlie shrugged, lifting a hand to scratch the back of his head. “They’re good at spreading out relevant skills, but keep a lid on information… so everyone learns how to work a ham radio, change oil or a tire, build a fire… survival kind of shit. But knowing the exact workings of the organization, or missions, or how many people are in it — all of that is tightly controlled.” “Makes sense,” Greg commented with another nod. “So I,” he continued, putting his hands on his chest. “Was born in it.” He paused there, sniffing as he thought about what to say next. He frowned, grabbed his spoon, and filled it with milk. Greg bit his upper lip, likewise thinking of what to ask, or if he should say anything at all. “My dad, uh, was a mechanic,” he said as he poured the milk from his spoon back into the bowl. “Hence… Veronica. Anyway, so everyone’s got their jobs, right? Mechanics, runners, comms… It’s all for the cause, and everything we do, everything we learn, is all in service of it.” He brought a hand up and rubbed his eye. He felt a strange sense of self-doubt talking about this, as if it wasn’t even the truth anymore. It had been so long, it felt like a completely different life. “So,” he trailed off slightly, glancing up. “Any questions?” “Many,” Greg replied automatically, offering a flicker of a smile. “But I like hearing whatever comes to your mind.” “Great,” Charlie snorted, grabbing his coffee and chugging the remains. He scratched his forehead, then ran his fingernails through his hair. “Ugh, help me out, man. There’s, uh… too much to just… ramble.” “Okay,” Greg nodded, tapping a finger on the table as he silently raced through several options. “You said they’re brutal and heartless.” “Yeah.” “Is that because they didn’t help you?” “I’m not that egotistical,” Charlie grinned, flipping Greg the bird at his skeptical look, which caused a snort. “No, I knew they would never come to help. That’s… ‘the protocol’. From day one, we’re taught that if you’re caught and adopted, you do everything in your power to keep your own mind and just… tough it out. You play nice, be good, don’t give them a reason to look into your past, don’t give them a reason to mindfuck you. But no one’s coming for you.” “Wait,” Greg paused, his face contorting in confusion. “They expect you to follow their rules despite telling you that they’ll abandon you?” “Well, ideally, they want Littles they can tap to activate if something big happens,” Charlie sighed and shrugged. “It’s what they tell us, anyway. But I think it’s a crock of shit. It’s just about protecting themselves.” “Wouldn’t it be better to encourage the fight? This is going to sound bad, but if they really wanted to protect themselves, wouldn’t they want their ex-members to get their minds fucked?” Greg winced as the words came out of his mouth, finding them distasteful. “No,” Charlie grumbled, shaking his head as he leaned his cheek against a fist. “If your brain is scrambled, you might say shit you shouldn’t. Granted, the likelihood of anyone believing anything we say is pretty slim, but I know that now. I could ramble everything I know about them to a fucking police officer, and they’d smile and think I was playing pretend. Which, honestly, is fucking awesome, but yeah, they don’t want to take the risk. So no… keep your mind sharp, your mouth shut, all with the promise that if something big goes down, be ready.” Greg leaned back in his chair and put his hands on his head, staring over Charlie’s head as he processed the information. He opened his mouth as his mind wandered to ask about his family, and he took in a quick breath. “Charlie…” he started quietly, his eyes slowly moving to his brother. “If that is a Fulcrum contact… doesn’t that mean you could reconnect with your family?” “No,” Charlie shot down quickly, glaring at Greg. “You’re my family.” “I get that,” Greg quickly agreed, showing his palms as he lifted his hands from his head. “I just mean – this could be a chance to –” “No,” Charlie snapped, his face hardening more. “I don’t want to see them, Greg.” “Okay,” he quietly acquiesced with a nod, dropping his hands into his lap. His eyes looked around the table as his brain tried to quickly divert the subject by finding a different question. “So, they… sent you on your last mission?” “Sort of,” Charlie replied as he lifted the bowl of cereal, holding it out for his brother to take. Once he was freed of it, he lifted the tray over his head and jumped down to the floor. “They’re sort of militaristic, but it’s all voluntary. Agency is a big deal for them.” Greg nodded knowingly as he put the bowl into the sink. That aligned with Axiom’s online comments and presence. “So you volunteered for the mission,” the Amazon confirmed, turning over his shoulder to see Charlie hesitate on his way towards the couches. “Yeah,” he mumbled in reply. “I told you I don’t care,” Greg reassured him, leaning against the sink as he crossed his arms. “You don’t have to worry about my reaction.” “I know,” Charlie sniffed, looking down at his feet. He glared down for a moment, angry to be revisiting the topic. It felt like a wound that wouldn’t heal, but at least had remained scabbed for all this time. This felt like picking it open and causing it to bleed all over again. But as he turned his head to the side to look at Greg in his peripheral vision, he hesitated, frowning at himself. Sometimes, Charlie felt like he was the adult masquerading as a child, and that Greg was the child masquerading as an adult. He saw the Amazon’s constant anxiety, insecurity, his inability to always process things in real time, and his naive nature had him pushing boundaries he shouldn’t be touching… He hesitated and grimaced, chiding himself for such thoughts. Greg had always treated him with respect and dignity, and he deserved the same. “Look,” Charlie sighed, spinning around to face his brother. “This is… hard for me to talk about. I grew up in a really… hateful environment. Hating anyone over seven feet tall, hating any Little who lived amongst the taller folk, hating any one of us that got caught… we were always victim-blaming. If someone got grabbed, it was their fault. They fucked up, fucked their lives, and fucked us of an ‘asset’.” Greg’s mouth twitched in a frown. “And then, I started taking jobs, and actually interacting with people outside of Fulcrum,” he continued, clenching his jaw and his fists as his eyes moved about the floor, but really were searching his memories. “I met good and fun people. Tweeners, Amazons… Littles that were just trying to get by. I still had that hate, that burning need to hurt people, but I also… liked some of them. I fit in, people liked me, and life outside of this… constant machine… and it was nice. “I sort of got addicted to the outside life,” Charlie recounted with a slight tug at his lips, scratching the back of his head. “I took every job that had me infiltrating and interacting with people. The more I could be away from Fulcrum, the better. So… when… it… happened… I don’t know. I hated it, but it also meant I never had to go back. Never had to be in that shit again…” Greg dropped his head and closed his eyes, sighing, “I’m sorry.” “It’s not your fault,” the Little brother mumbled, reaching his hands up to scratch at his temples. “I had convinced myself they had fizzled out, or gotten caught, or disbanded. Should have known they were tougher than that.” Greg licked and bit his bottom lip, nodding once more. Truth be told, he was glad to know there was some functional resistance out there, despite his brother’s harsh perspective. It gave him hope that Littles weren’t as helpless as one might think, nor as disorganized as he had thought based on the online activity. Yet he was starting to see a pattern, a through line in the dysfunction in their world, that affected Amazons and Littles alike: running one’s society, logic, and every rationale on emotions. Many Amazons struggled with fertility — it was the dirty little secret everyone knew, but no one wanted to openly talk about. Greg had learned years ago that his parents had spent thousands of dollars on fertility treatments before they adopted Charlie, and had given up on the prospect of having their own before he was born. His mother called him their ‘miracle baby’, especially given how late in her life she had him, so he had grown up under the impression that it was a major driving force for adoptions. Amazons wanted to protect and nurture. Littles were small and vulnerable. It was all emotional. Then there was this Fulcrum. Angry and resentful, it sounded like a competent and organized group was burning away their opportunity to be effective by weaponizing their emotions. He hummed to himself as he began to imagine what a world would look like if they didn’t let their emotions rule them… “Greg?” A logical, rational discussion at a table, or an open forum of debate where Littles forced into infantile roles could stand up and disprove it all. Where Charlie could be himself again. Then he grinned slightly, trying to imagine all the reactions of people who only knew baby Charlie, getting to meet foulmouthed, snarky Charlie. “Greg!!” “Oh, sh —“ the Amazon brother winced as he pulled his foot back, having been pulled from his thoughts by Charlie stomping on it, causing a sensory overload. He sucked in air through his teeth as he let the overload drop after a few seconds, and as a matter of habit, blurted out, “Sorry.” “Where the hell did you go?” he asked both incredulously and concernedly. “The usual,” Greg forced a grin, rotating his foot as the pain began to pass. “Fantasyland.” “Well, welcome back to boring reality,” the Little snorted, shaking his head as he walked off towards the couches. The Amazon chuckled, tucking his hands into his pockets as he followed his brother, his thoughts still flickering back and forth between reality and his imagination. As he plopped onto the couch, he glanced over at Charlie, who raised an eyebrow expectantly, and Greg pursed his lips momentarily. “Thank you,” he nodded to his brother. “For sharing.” Charlie gave a nod as he reclined on the couch, curling a leg up as he pushed his lips to the side in thought, staring at his brother. When the Amazon raised an eyebrow at him, he sighed. “What are you going to do about the… person?” he asked as his eyes fell to the floor, hoping for an answer he knew wasn’t coming; Greg was invested in this now, he wasn’t going to drop it. “I’d like your help,” the Amazon responded quietly as he scooted to the edge of the couch and leaned forward, waiting to reply until he had his brother’s eye contact. “I want to figure out what they want from me without committing. And I want you in on it.” “What if I don’t want to?” Charlie countered quickly, a flare of irritation bubbling in his chest. “That’s fine,” Greg shrugged. “But it’s an open invitation. You can be as engaged or disengaged as you want.” Charlie heaved a long sigh as he buzzed his lips, his shoulders deflating. After a long moment of consideration, he nodded. “Fine,” he grumbled, looking up to the Amazon. “But I want something in return.” “Name it.” “No more shutting Veronica off,” the Little said firmly, arching an eyebrow at Greg. “Whatever you have to do to make her functional without suspicion around Sarah, do it. But she doesn’t deserve this kind of treatment.” “Her or you?” Greg grinned. “Both,” he grumbled, not comfortable with how much of an attachment he had grown to the robot. Greg leaned back, putting his arms up on top of the back of the couch, and gave a long, faraway look as he considered what that would entail. Eventually, he pursed his lips and nodded. “Deal.”

Rearz DayDreamer

Peter Pan appears to be 18th Century. When was Pinoccio written? seems like the 19th. Also Pinocchio was Italian, Peter Pan seems Bristish

Main diaper - Rearz Inspire+ Secondary diaper - ABU Super Dry Kids The reasons are, they are a little thinner and the ABU Canada warehouse is in Calgary so I can order and pick up the same day.

I have the feeling that Cassie is cheating again, seems to go out drinking with friends frequently. She seems to be able to manipulate Sam even though she is the mommy.