Other Fetishes

Ruby eeped while she was powdered up and blushed “Ummm yes please.” She said shyly 

Well, it's Tuesday, and the next chapter is here! First, though, the replies: Hey, welcome! Hope that the U.S. Marine things are accurate; while I'm not a marine (or armed forces member), I wanted to get this right. Thank you!  I've noticed you reading it on AO3, sooo, yeah~ And now for the chapter:   -   Chapter Eight: Why Did I Start Breastfeeding?   -   Clover was actually having a good dream for once.   She wasn’t in that filthy house of her uncle’s, but in a huge house that she barely recognized. She was small, infant-sized, wearing a thick diaper and a sleeper, like she was in the dimension she was in now, her mommy - her real mommy - nursing her, and she was enjoying the feeling of being held, babied, and cooed at as she smiled and babbled back, like she was unable to say any words, and that was actually all right with her.   Deep down, she knew she was a marine, knew that she shouldn’t have enjoyed being breastfed and further infantalized as much as she did, but…fuck, was it a drug or something? Did those Amazons put something in their breasts to make her want it so much? Was being babied so bad compared to what bitches like Megan just did, like what her monster of an uncle did to her and Graywind?   “Good girl, Clovy,” her mother cooed at her, her eyes warm, even though Clover had been far too young to remember her and her father. She didn’t remember what they looked like, what they sounded like, what kind of people they were. She didn’t even know how they died.   “Hey, Clovy.” She perked up when she heard Graywind’s voice.   Somehow, he was the exact same age he currently was, dressed in his Marine uniform, making Clover feel extra babyish. He gently kissed her on the head as she continued to nurse, and she turned her head a tiny bit, her mouth still on the nipple, barely realizing how huge he was compared to her. She reached for his pointer finger, which seemed so big compared to her tiny hand.    “She loves you, Windy,” her father chuckled, and Clover was more than a bit confused. “Such a good big brother you are.”   “Thanks, Dad.” She knew Graywind was blushing with the praise; he never really was good at handling compliments.   “And she’s a hungry little mosi yázhi, isn’t she? Aren’t you, my little kitten, yes, you are!”   Clover almost froze. Mosi. Her actual middle name, given by her Navajo parents, which had the literal meaning of “cat”, “mosi yázhi” meaning “kitten”. Nobody used it, least of all her. Why was this at the forefront now?   The doorbell then rang, and Graywind said, “I’ll get it!” as Clover began to fuss at the lack of milk coming out.   “We’ve got visitors; it’s the Klopfensteins!”   What?   Why were they there? With Jyrgal and Axel and…their families as well. Why was this so wrong and so right all at once?   No, she had to wake up, this was turning into a dream she didn’t want.   Wake up!   She wasn’t supposed to be a helpless little infant. She was a Marine. The few. She couldn’t be alone with this! The proud. There was no pride in this!   WAKE UP!   Clover’s eyes snapped open to see both Jyrgal and Axel crying in each other’s embrace.   “I want out! I want out!” she screamed…or she would have. Instead, nothing came out but an infantile wail, causing her to panic and babble more and more, trying her best to communicate in English and failing miserably, tears flowing from her eyes, as sheer terror crawled up from her frantically beating heart, up her spine, and into her brain.   “Oh, no, that’s the effects kicking in,” Jyrgal had gone over in a hurry, picking the marine up and rocking her in her arms. “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Clover, it’s okay. It’ll pass in ten minutes. Just ten minutes.”   The Amazon started humming a soft lullaby in a foreign language. Clover didn’t know the words to it, and it may have been for the best; had she tried to repeat it, she faintly realized, she would’ve only succeeded in panicking more.   And then Axel was there with her pronghorn animal to put in her hands, and she hugged the plush antelope, the tears deftly absorbed by the soft toy - but surprisingly not ruining it.   It seemed to continue on and on, Jyrgal rocking her and humming, Clover holding the pronghorn like a lifeline as she cried…until the Amazon woman said, “Okay, it’s been ten minutes. Clover, could you try to speak?”   “I-I can…what’s going on? What happened? Why did I just go full baby?!”   “That’s one of a few effects of direct mouth-to-breast contact by a Little with a female Amazon,” Jyrgal explained in a guilty tone. “Every ten minutes after direct mouth-to-breast, there’s a full loss of vocabulary for the feeder. I’m so sorry, I should’ve warned you, but…the pheremones…they…”   “Pheromones?” Clover was confused.   “Pheromones that affect all adult Amazons and Littles,” Axel explained. “Jyrgal was as lost in the moment as I was. I’m so sorry, Clover, we should’ve explained, but…it just…it…” The adult Amazon man bowed his head in shame.   “It just took a hold,” Jyrgal murmured, her eyes glistening with remorseful tears. “It’s a poor excuse, and I’m truly sorry; I should’ve warned you what the effects were, but…it just…”   “So, these pheromones dominate every single part of your brain? Like a primal instinct that can’t be ignored?” Clover would’ve normally been surprised at her thoughts, but no matter how much her uncle tried to suppress any form of knowledge other than cooking and cleaning (not that he helped with any of it), tried to condition her into being nothing more than a stupid little obedient servant, she wasn’t an idiot.   “Yes,” Axel whispered.   “And why did the…” Clover wrinkled her nose at the smell she hadn’t caught before, something that had been so subtle that she hadn’t even noticed. “Oh, fuck, I shit and pissed myself again, didn’t I?”   “That’s another effect of mouth-to-breast contact,” Jyrgal said. “Eventually, you have complete loss of your sphincter and urethra control. And I know it’s going to be very hard from now on, but Littles can grow addicted to this. The direct feedings. The babying. All of it. And once you’ve started…it’s hard to stop. I’m so sorry, I didn’t even…” The Amazon woman started to cry more, her tears already flowing down her face.   “Mrs. Klopfenstein, it’s not your fault,” Clover said. “I should’ve been more careful.”   “And we should’ve warned you, but we were lost in our own primal emotions,” Axel said bitterly. “The blame stops with me.”   “I’m not going to blame you guys. Pheromones go both ways. In some ways, I wanted this. We’ll just have to be more careful from now on…although I have absolutely no idea what I’m going to eat…”   “That’s the problem, Clover: there isn’t much you can eat.” Jyrgal looked devastated. “You’re literally the size of a nine-month-old infant, and I know that food for Littles is disgusting; I won’t feed you that slop. We can try to cut our food, the soft things like fruit, up, but…”   “Breast milk might be the only option,” Clover finished bluntly, a sinking feeling hitting the depths of her stomach.   “I can pump, then dilute the chemicals within it, make it have none of the aftereffects. I didn’t get a forensics degree for nothing.” Jyrgal’s voice was determined, and Clover realized…both of them really wanted to fix their mistake, truly wanted to make her life better and not…what could be hellish.   The people trying to fix their mistakes are the ones who can be trusted, Windy’s voice echoed in her mind, one of his favorite sayings. I’d rather trust the sinner who knows they’ve done wrong and actively tries to do better than the angel who does nothing wrong and sees nothing wrong with it.   “Let’s get you changed first, Clover; I’m sorry I didn’t do it earlier,” Jyrgal said, quickly carrying Clover over to a nearby changing table.   Clover realized she was in a full-blown nursery. There was a pink crib, and even though the walls were white and drab, the furniture had been moved in, obviously by Axel, a toy chest, the changing table, a fuzzy and soft carpet covered with all of the potentially hard areas covered by blankets.   Well, at least it all looks comfortable, Clover thought as she was quickly and thoroughly wiped down, powdered, and diapered.   Then the phone rang, and Axel got it.   “Yes?” he asked. “Oh…Jyrgal, the phone is for you, it’s a woman named Marsha from your work. She says that it’s urgent.”   “Goddammit, I don’t want to deal with her and her stupid dentist husband right now,” Jyrgal grumbled as she took the phone. “Marsha, listen, I don’t…wait, why are you connecting me to Mr. Rutherford? What’s going on…” Clover saw Jyrgal’s eyes widen in utter horror. “Sir, I…Sir…I can’t, you promised…”   “Dear?” Axel asked in a worried tone.   “Sir…oh, God, OH GOD, WHY…I…I won’t. I promise.” A pause. “Yes, I’ll be a good girl for this, just please give me three days with my Little.” Clover noticed Axel’s face tightening in helpless rage, and she realized…Jyrgal’s boss was likely going to pull maternity leave right from under the poor woman and possibly retaliate for Megan’s actions. “Thank you, Sir…Sir, do I…do I really…okay…thank you…Daddy…”   Jyrgal looked utterly miserable as she hung up the phone, and Axel looked at her. “What’s wrong, Jyrry? What is your boss trying to pull?”   “Short-staffed. I’ll be back, but we’ll have to discuss Clover’s arraignments; you’ll get to see Axy’s job! Isn’t that fun? I’ll get bottles and toys and maybe your gaming system and games so that you can have a fun time there!”   She was smiling, but Clover knew that the Amazon was just trying to put on a brave face, that something beyond horrible had happened…and it was not because her job was short-staffed.   Jyrgal was lying.   -   Hope y'all enjoyed~

James was nearly hypnotized by the older woman’s breasts bouncing delightfully in front of him. He slowly began to nod, not even realizing what he was doing. He quickly snapped out of his trance though, puffing his own chest out slightly and trying to look manly. He laughed heartily at the suggestion of wearing a bib, at his age. ”Haha, oh yeah, a bib… hahaha. No no, I’m no messy eater. I’ll be fine,” he joked back with her, backing away from the cabinet of baby supplies. 

My wife calls it my "peculiar hobby"

Peter powdered her bottom and helped her out of bed. ”There you are,” he cooed. “All ready for your day. Do you need some help getting breakfast?”