Take Me To The River (Part Seven 7/31/20)

[RJ JO]

Wow. You are a wordsmith to say the least. Thank you for sharing this with us. Please continue!

[TheUnknownAuthor]

1 hour ago, RJ JO said:

Wow. You are a wordsmith to say the least. Thank you for sharing this with us. Please continue!

Thank you for reading and taking the time to comment! I think you might be giving me a little too much acclaim, but it's very kind of you nevertheless!

[TheUnknownAuthor]

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I know it hasn't exactly been a parade of sunshine and roses up to this point in the story, but this arc in particular, that is this chapter and a few going forward, are pretty gutting and deal with a lot of things that most, myself included, will find upsetting. My intent is to tell a story, to give life to the characters I've created and I won't apologize for those lives being hard and painful, I will apologize if anything I've written stirs the embers of personal experiences and hardships and causes someone to face their own demons after fighting to move beyond them. Please know that if you've dealt with abuse or with loss that you're a strong person with great value and are in no way defined by the actions of others. You matter and no one should ever make you feel as though that's not the case.

All of that said, I welcome criticism and discussion, even if it's from a place of hurt and anger, I simply ask that you try and keep things civilized so that we can discuss things without having an argument. I thank you for reading my story and hope that you find it engaging even if it sucks to read.

 

V

“The Nuts”

“Part Two: Junko”

 

 

Is it possible to die of embarrassment? If it is then I’ve skirted death more times than can be counted.

 

Growing up, I was the last born of three children and my older sisters viewed me as their doll, dressing me up in all manner of outfits and doting on me from dawn to dusk. As I got older that behavior never waned and my constant health issues from a weaker than normal immune system ensured that I remained the small, weak little baby that they viewed me as.

 

My name means “obedient child”, and it seems that it was given to me to keep me in bondage my entire life, always putting my own thoughts and feelings aside for others happiness and wishes. My oldest sister Kamiko, or “superior child”, exploited this trait by teasing me as our mother hung up the cloth diapers and bedding on the line to dry, positing that my continued wetting during the night and questionable daytime continence must mean that I wanted to continue to be the baby of the family despite being school aged.

 

Hisa, the second oldest, grew out of her tormenting and teasing and became like a second mother to me when Kamiko would abuse me either verbally or physically. Our mother wasn’t one to lavish affection or get involved in our squabbling, and if our father ever heard of our discord we’d be on the receiving end of a caning, so Hisa was the one that I ran to when Kamiko would pin me down and tickle me until I wet my diaper, hers was the bed I sneaked into when I had a nightmare, and she was the one that showed me that love can blind you to the true nature of a person.

 

I was nine when I first learned the truth about my father’s business. He ran a restaurant that was a front for Yakuza business, and in the back of that restaurant was a room where they would film adult movies. I’d come by after school to pick something up that I’d left the other day, and heard moaning from the back room and foolishly barged in to check only to find Kamiko on her knees in front of two men, her mouth on one of them while the other teased himself against her cheek. She screamed and yelled at me and I turned to run but was grabbed by the shoulder and thrown to the floor by a man I hadn’t seen near the door. My father and the man argued for some time as Kamiko and I sat on the couch in the back room in silence. When my father came in, the man stood behind him and monitored my father as he explained to me that I was never to tell anyone about what I’d seen or else he’d cane me so hard I’d never sit down, and I cried and agreed to his request.

 

Kamiko stepped up her abuse after that day, probably to ensure I’d obey our father, but also because she was embarrassed that I’d seen her doing what she was doing. Whenever we were alone together she’d force me to humiliate myself under the threat of telling father she’d heard me telling someone about the secret room. I was made to crawl in only my diapers and mess them, something I almost never did, while she laughed and verbally assaulted me.

 

I fell into a spiral of shame and depression that led me more and more frequently into Hisa’s arms until I was spending every moment I could with her, abandoning my own bed for hers and crying myself to sleep as she held me close to her and rubbed my back or stroked my hair. Kamiko’s treatment of me coupled with Hisa’s compassion brought about a regression in me. My already present diapers were thickened to accommodate my abandonment of using the toilet, I began sucking my thumb more often than not and Hisa brought a box of my baby things out of storage to give me back my old pacifier which almost never left my mouth after that day. My regression stopped Kamiko from enjoying her abuse of me, and my parents washed their hands of my behavior entirely, telling Hisa that if she was going to encourage my behavior she could look after me, and she did and never once made me feel foolish for anything I did.

 

By the time I was eleven I’d been barred from school for my inability to function on the level of my peers and Hisa had taken it upon herself to home school me, getting credit from her own school for being so responsible in caring for her infantile sister. She set up a camera in the room to record our lessons as proof of what she was doing, and would leave it running all day long. My days with her were spent learning as she taught me things well below my grade level, like shapes and colors and she made sure to set aside time for cuddles and play as well to ensure that her baby sister was well and truly cared for. She’d sit on the floor with me in her lap and give me a bottle and praise me when I used my diaper, changing me on the floor as I sucked my pacifier and played with a rattle or stuffed animal.

 

Kamiko had moved out after dozens of canings for sneaking boys into the house sent her to live with one of them. Hisa turned her room into a nursery for me, decorating it with all the baby furniture we had in storage while placing Kamiko’s remaining belongings in storage until it was like I’d never grown up at all. A camera was installed in the nursery for her to record my life to show that proper infant care was simple even with a larger than average baby, but I paid no attention to it, I just lived my life carefree and innocent lavished in the love of my older sister turned surrogate mother.

 

**********

 

As puberty began to ravage my body, I gradually grew from the role of baby and back to something a bit closer to my actual age. Hisa potty trained me, filming every step of my graduation from diapers full time to training panties during the day and diapers for bedtime, she changed the nursery into a young girl’s dream room and encouraged me to regain my independence, being understanding and compassionate when I’d slip up and have an accident while playing or when I’d get cranky before a nap, she would always take me by the hand and lovingly take care of me.

 

With Hisa’s help I was back in panties and back in school, albeit two grades lower than where I was supposed to be, but I was happy, and she was happy with me and she continued to look after me and be every bit the surrogate mother she’d become over our time together. Our parents were still ashamed of me, and paid little to no attention to me whenever we were together, but Hisa was there to reassure me and stand beside me and nothing else mattered to me besides her approval and love.

 

It was around this time that Hisa began to grow increasingly sad and preoccupied, and I tried to get her to talk to me about what was bothering her, but she simply plastered a smile on her face and told me that grownup problems weren’t my concern. My worry for her grew as she began to come home with bruises and once a black eye, I tried to get her to open up to me, but she grew increasingly resistant until one day she calmly and quietly hugged me and pulled me onto her lap, stroking my hair tenderly.

 

“I love you, Junko.” she whispered softly as she moved me from her lap and into bed, tucking me in and kissing my forehead as a single tear fell onto my pillow.

 

My eyes began to slowly close as I watched her walk to the bedroom door and stand there for a moment before turning and leaving. Four days later they found her body washed up on the shore near the bridge. The note in the plastic bag in her pocket was addressed to me and though my parents tried to keep me from reading it, I managed to get it from them and shatter my world as I read it.

 

Hisa had been recording me for longer than I could recall, but she’d told me that it was for school. It turned out that the men that ran the backroom at our father’s restaurant had forced her to record me to sell the tapes to “special” clients. She’d been beaten several times when she tried to stop, and she claimed that they’d threatened to hurt me if she didn’t do what they asked of her. She explained that she couldn’t live with the guilt and shame of her actions any longer and planned to end her life by jumping off the bridge, but she shared that she’d put all of the money they’d given her over the years in the bank and had ensured that only I would be able to access it and that her final wish was that I use that money to free myself from everyone and everything in my life that had let me down and hurt me.

 

I was numb for weeks after Hisa’s death, sitting in her room day and night, barely eating and sleeping, my clothes soiled from not moving to use the restroom, my skin itching and burning from ammonia and feces irritation, but none of it mattered, I didn’t care if I got sick and died, the light of my life had betrayed me and exploited me and then abandoned me, and nothing could make that right. My mother finally stepped in and took control, cleaning me up and applying medicine to my infected sores, treating my developing fever and feeding me soup and juice to get my electrolytes and strength back up.

 

“Junko,” she said softly as she spooned soup into my mouth, most of it falling back out and onto the bib she’d affixed around my neck, “I was never a good mother to you, I abandoned you because I didn’t want to care for a baby again and left your sister to be the mother I wouldn’t.” she explained as she wiped my mouth and tried another spoonful of soup. “Hisa was a better mother than I ever was and ever could hope to be, and I know that losing both an older sister and a mother is devastating, but she wouldn’t want you to give up and let yourself get sick and die because of your pain, she would want you to be strong and rise up from this tragedy and become the woman she raised you to be.” she continued.

 

Tears welled up in my eyes as I focused my gaze on her. “She used me.” I croaked, my voice raspy and hoarse from lack of use and lack of fluids.

 

My mother nodded. “She never would’ve done so willingly.” she said. “You were her daughter, her baby, she would’ve done anything to protect you from even a moment of pain, and she took the beatings they gave her and their money and made sure that something good would come from something terrible.” she told me, her own eyes glistening as she began to cry.

 

“Did father know?” I asked her, my eyes burning as hot tears rolled down my cheeks.

 

She shook her head vehemently. “No! He would’ve never-” I cut her off.

 

“He knew Kamiko was working for them!” I spat, coughing at the sudden force and effort on my weakened throat.

 

My mother stared at me in disbelief. “No…” she said quietly.

 

“He never told you any of it, did he?” I asked.

 

She shook her head again.

 

“He let his daughters be used, fucked like common whores!” I screamed. “I saw Kamiko with two men, using her mouth on them, and I kept quiet because I wanted to be a good girl, and I thought that was the end of it, but then Hisa was being used and being made to use me and-” I broke down into uncontrollable sobs as my mother did the same, apologizing over and over for her ignorance about everything. “I’m taking the money that Hisa left me and I’m leaving and never coming back.” I finally said, my hands and voice trembling as I looked up at my mother, seeing her for the first time as an innocent that was another link in the chain of abuse and lies.

 

“Junko, I-” she started to say.

 

I shook my head. “Leave him.” I said. “He’s cost you three daughters, the only thing left is your own life and he’ll take that from you too.” I told her.

 

She remained silent except for her sobs.

 

I stayed there until I got my health and strength back a week later and packed what few things I cared to take with me and went to the bank, taking out enough money to make travel arrangements to the furthest possible place I could think of with the best chance at a new life, America. I thought that I was being an adult for the first time in my young life, that I was becoming the independent woman that Hisa wanted me to become, but I would soon learn that “obedient child” was too fitting a moniker for me and that I’d spend the rest of my life trading one humiliating and emotionally damaging cage for another until death by humiliation became my ultimate and untimely fate.

 

To Be Continued...

[TheMommyM]

I want to preface this with sentiments of admiration and appreciation for what you've written here, as difficult as it was to read I imagine it was just as hard to write and for that you deserve credit for not shying away from something that is uncomfortable to say the least and disturbing if we're being completely honest.

The meat of my comment is that I'm letting you know that I'm giving up reading this wonderful story. As you mentioned in your much appreciated note before the chapter, this story isn't happy and right now, probably especially now, I'm not looking to be depressed by the lives of fictional characters when the real world is so troubling and depressing. Make no mistake, what you've managed to do here is powerful and amazing, you've made me feel so bad for fake people that it touches real emotions that I'm currently dealing with, and that's to be commended even if I do hate you for doing so. I'm being hyperbolic when I say that I hate you, I find you to be very talented and if you ever write a happy story I'll gladly read it, but for now I'm not in a place where I need what you've got going on here.

Please continue writing this story and give it it's conclusion, the characters you've created deserve closure just as much as those reading do. Also, make sure you deal with your feelings as you write these things, too much negative is never a good thing and I'd hate to see it consume you.

Take care and stay safe!

[TheUnknownAuthor]

3 hours ago, TheMommyM said:

I want to preface this with sentiments of admiration and appreciation for what you've written here, as difficult as it was to read I imagine it was just as hard to write and for that you deserve credit for not shying away from something that is uncomfortable to say the least and disturbing if we're being completely honest.

The meat of my comment is that I'm letting you know that I'm giving up reading this wonderful story. As you mentioned in your much appreciated note before the chapter, this story isn't happy and right now, probably especially now, I'm not looking to be depressed by the lives of fictional characters when the real world is so troubling and depressing. Make no mistake, what you've managed to do here is powerful and amazing, you've made me feel so bad for fake people that it touches real emotions that I'm currently dealing with, and that's to be commended even if I do hate you for doing so. I'm being hyperbolic when I say that I hate you, I find you to be very talented and if you ever write a happy story I'll gladly read it, but for now I'm not in a place where I need what you've got going on here.

Please continue writing this story and give it it's conclusion, the characters you've created deserve closure just as much as those reading do. Also, make sure you deal with your feelings as you write these things, too much negative is never a good thing and I'd hate to see it consume you.

Take care and stay safe!

I completely understand and thank you for feeling comfortable enough to speak your mind about your feelings.

Here's the thing with me, "happy" is a relative term. I know what happiness looks like and I know that certain things make for a happy story, my problem is that I don't see the point in writing something that doesn't feel true to me. If I write a story where, for example, a pair of people meet and start dating and explore their individual desires where fetishes are concerned, it feels disingenuous to have everything work out in the end because the reality is that sometimes, a lot of the times, things don't work out that way. I know that makes me sound like a pessimist or that I have something against being happy or writing people that way, but I see it more as realism because we're all flawed creatures and we regularly do and say things that cause pain to the people we're supposed to care for. A "happy" story for me might end with the couple being together, but the journey there would probably trigger and turn a lot of readers away, so I stick to the darkness and the weird so nobody has any preconceived notions about what they're getting.

I'm in no way saying people shouldn't write happy stories and I'm not knocking those that seek that out, I'm just not interested in that side of the emotional scale and I'd probably do terribly at it as a result. As far as my own mental health goes, I don't dwell on the things I write, especially when they get really dark, it's kind of like a natural purge of that emotion by way of a fictional character, if that makes sense.

TL;DR: I focus on the darker spectrum of things because it's more real than something a greeting card company told me was real.

Stay safe and take care of yourself as well! I hope you check in when I have something else to say, if for no other reason than to keep me in check.

[Scarlet]

Wow, that was an intense chapter.

 

Junko did go down an intense spiral, despite what happened. Hisa was clearly an extremely loving person and I was sad to see she took her own life.

 

Despite the last paragraph implying that things didn't go as planned.

11 hours ago, TheUnknownAuthor said:

“He’s cost you three daughters, the only thing left is your own life and he’ll take that from you too.” I told her.

 Junko seems really mature here, and much respect to her for stepping up like that. I'm looking forward to seeing what ends up happening to her.

 

I was very surprised that the mom didn't know anything. The Hisa thing sure, super secret, but I was surprised that she didn't know about Kamiko either. I really feel bad for her. After all that time, to have something like that revealed, it's really shocking because all the daughters have grown up, and are independent.  Kinda too late for her to do anything except Junko advice of leaving.

 

I agree with MommyM comment. This story is a work of art, disturbing yes. But with a purpose, it's not just fucked up just because. The messed up parts are natural to the story and in cases like this, integral to the characters. Beautiful in it's own way.

[TheUnknownAuthor]

10 hours ago, Scarlet said:

Wow, that was an intense chapter.

 

Junko did go down an intense spiral, despite what happened. Hisa was clearly an extremely loving person and I was sad to see she took her own life.

 

Despite the last paragraph implying that things didn't go as planned.

 Junko seems really mature here, and much respect to her for stepping up like that. I'm looking forward to seeing what ends up happening to her.

 

I was very surprised that the mom didn't know anything. The Hisa thing sure, super secret, but I was surprised that she didn't know about Kamiko either. I really feel bad for her. After all that time, to have something like that revealed, it's really shocking because all the daughters have grown up, and are independent.  Kinda too late for her to do anything except Junko advice of leaving.

 

I agree with MommyM comment. This story is a work of art, disturbing yes. But with a purpose, it's not just fucked up just because. The messed up parts are natural to the story and in cases like this, integral to the characters. Beautiful in it's own way.

There was initially a fairly sizeable section of the story where we got to see that the father was just as strict with his wife as he was with his daughters, he would cane her when she "misbehaved" and it caused her to be very subservient and not question him in any way. I dropped it because I felt that it portrayed Japanese culture negatively and opted instead for it to be implied that she was kept in the dark about things for the same reasons.

Junko's maturity was forced here, everything fell apart for her and the life she knew was built on lies, I believe that as we continue to delve into her past, we'll see that this maturity was situational and temporary and only existed to get her out of her house. I think that faced with a new country where she truly is on her own and without the tools to survive beyond money, we'll see her struggling to cope and questioning the choices she's made...but maybe not, maybe she'll thrive and be totally fine...

Thank you for reading and opening up about your thoughts, I'm glad to hear that I haven't come off as a sadistic monster that lives to torment his characters and that what I write reads as intended, integral to the story.

[Sarah Penguin]

[TheUnknownAuthor]

VI

“Bully”

 

All things considered, I’d fared pretty well in the tournament up to the point that I watched Steven end up in a wheelchair. When the tournament started I’d been wearing a peach sundress and some frilly ankle socks with some white, patent leather shoes. My short black hair tied into little pigtails on either side of my head with lavender ribbons and beneath my adorable frock were my training pants, the ones Daddy never let me go without. After a few losses I was no longer Junko the petite little girl that wet herself a little when she giggled, I was Junko the seven foot tall giantess that wanted nothing more than to force men to worship me and kiss my feet as they begged me to fuck them with my nearly foot long cock.

 

The “man” to my right had ended up losing all but the smallest pile of his chips and had become a bubbly little airhead that spent the majority of her time with her hands beneath the table fingering herself as she stared at my massive endowment and drooled all over her ridiculously small tits. I noticed her noticing me and quickly and roughly took her by the back of her neck and forced her down below the table to do her best to fit as much of my girth into her sweet little mouth as possible until she was eventually disqualified, panting like the little whore she now was as her flesh grew thin and brightly colored as she became a living balloon that whined shrilly as it deflated and flitted about the room until it disappeared entirely.

 

Despite my losses earlier, I was second in chips at my table and looking to take first from the woman across from me. She’d begun the tournament as a dowdy looking teacher type, dressed sensibly in a professional business suit, her fire red hair tied up in a tight bun, looking at everyone over her glasses like she was superior to them in every way. I smirked at her as she blew a large pink bubble with her gum, the goo sticking to her chin and nose as it popped making her giggle stupidly as she cleaned it off and continued chewing. Over the course of play, her business suit had changed into a belly shirt that declared her to be a “naughty gurl” in bright pink bubble letters adorned with glitter and a denim miniskirt that did very little to hide her puffy pink pussy lips. Her superiority complex had been replaced with a vapid nymphomaniac complex and she spent most of the rest of the game giggling like a little moron every time she won and pouting every time she folded.

 

I watched her tells and knew when to pick her off, I just needed to wait for the right hand to come along and then my pocket queens showed up and I caught her furrowing her brow and knew it was time to take the lead.

 

To my left had been a portly man with his embarrassingly small cock in a sweet pink chastity cage, but he’d changed into a nearly anorexic albino that couldn’t seem to stop himself from tugging the gnarled bit of petrified driftwood between his thighs long enough to play smartly. Continuing on from him was a woman that had begun the tournament dressed in a latex catsuit with cutouts for her pussy and asshole, who now, ironically, was dressed in a literal catsuit, the gray fur of the costume looking soft and inviting to anyone that may want to pet her as she licked the back of her paw mittened hand and rubbed it over the ears on top of the hood she wore. Next to her was the man I was going after once I’d knocked the bimbo across from me out, a once muscular black man that had all but flopped his sizable cock onto the table when he’d arrived just so everyone knew he was packing a weapon of mass destruction, now a scrawny little thing that twitched with insecurity as he sat in his precious little flower girl dress, one that looked astonishingly similar to the one I’d been wearing earlier but in white.

 

I winked at him and blew him a kiss as I hoisted my own cock upward so he could see it glistening just for him, laughing heartily as he sheepishly began to suck his thumb as he stared at it, drool running down his chin and onto his pretty little dress as he stared at it.

 

“Like, could you not have your dick out all day?! It’s making it hard to focus on my cards!” my current target said in a disgusted valley girl tone as she smacked her gum.

 

I chuckled. “You could forfeit and come over here and focus on something your good at, sweetie.” I told her, delighting in her blush as she unintentionally bet when she most definitely should’ve just called.

 

The rest of the table had already been eliminated in disturbing and arousing ways, much like my sweet balloon had been. It had all been very scary when I was little and weak, my training panties nearly leaking from all the frightened wetting I’d done, but now I was strong and fearless, I was a warrior goddess with a magnum dong and no one was going to make me subservient to them. My mind wandered to Keith as I called the bimbo’s foolish bet, wondering if he was still the same as when we’d started and if so would he still want me after my drastic transformation, I banished those thoughts almost instantly though, knowing that if I wanted to, I could have him any way I wanted him, probably starting with making him my little baby girl and forcing him to wear training panties all the time.

 

By the end of the round the entire table was in as the flop came and gave me another queen and a pair of two’s to make a lovely full house. The albino checked, as did the cat woman, my little flower girl checked as well, her hand shooting up from below the table as she sheepishly rapt the surface of it before plunging it back down below. My little bimbo twirled her hair and looked adorably lost as she looked from her cards to the ones on the table.

 

“I’ll make you a deal, sweetie,” I called to her, causing her to jerk her head up abruptly as if I’d shocked her back to reality. “If you push all those pretty chips into the pot, I’ll let you watch the rest of the hand from my lap.” I told her, smirking as my little flower girl whimpered and pouted as he heard my offer. “You can join her if you like, but all those pretty chips need to go into the pot first.” I said to him, bringing an eager smile to his slobber coated face.

 

The bimbo looked once more at her cards and then to the ones on the table and spilled the stack of chips as she pushed them forward, her cards falling onto the table to reveal an offsuit six and ten. She skipped, actually skipped like she was Red Riding Hood on a stroll to her grandmother’s house around the table to stand beside me as I effortlessly picked her up and set her down so my shaft pressed against her puffy pink pussy as she obediently sat, oblivious to the fact that she’d just put herself almost out of the tournament entirely just to feel my massive rod against her most intimate parts.

 

Two folds left my flower girl to push his chips in, leaving his suited fours where he’d been sitting as he toddled over, confirming my suspicions that his underwear had been replaced with precious princess training panties that squished as I lifted him up and set him down between the bimbo’s legs and near the head of my cock.

 

“Did you have an accident, sweetie?” I cooed to him, feeling his training pants warm and spill over as he nodded and giggled, grinding the sopping padding against me, his minuscule cock spurting helplessly almost instantly as he noisily slurped his thumb.

 

The bimbo scoffed and made a disgusted sound. “Like, that’s pathetic!” she sneered.

 

I took her throat in one hand and placed the other between her thighs. “If you don’t soak my hand with your piss before that next card comes up, I’ll crush your pretty little neck right here and now.” I whispered forcefully into her ear, smiling as a rush of liquid immediately flowed over my hand and cock. “Good girl.” I whispered. “Now, watch as all those pretty little chips come to me and you turn into something else entirely.” I said, delighting in her gasp as her body tensed up as she finally realized what she’d done.

 

The remaining cards did nothing to help my two submissive playthings and my flower girl vanished from where he’d been sitting, appearing on the monitors in a dingy men’s room bent over in a stall with his mouth working away on a cock poking through a glory hole while another worked his sweet asshole as he moaned noisily, his sodden training pants on the floor at his ankles as he dribbled his arousal onto the floor before the monitor went black.

 

“He may not have won, but at least he’ll always have job security!” the overhead voice said.

 

The bimbo shrank where she sat until she was unable to see above the table.

 

I picked her up and turned her around, checking to see if she’d merely shrunk or if she’d regressed as well and delighted in seeing her still chewing her gum like a little cow as she squirmed futilely in my grasp, her now too big clothes falling off of her leaving her completely naked.

 

“Like, put me down!” she squeaked in the tiniest and most ridiculous sounding voice.

 

I shook my head. “I think not, sweetie.” I told her.

 

“Ma’am, she needs to return to her seat or else she’ll be disqualified.” a gruff looking man that appeared beside me said.

 

I frowned at her. “You hear that, sweetie? Do you know what disqualified means?” I asked her.

 

She nodded. “It means I lose, now let me go!” she cried.

 

I chuckled. “I could let you go,” I mused aloud, “I could set you down and watch you scamper back to your chair and wait for someone to help you onto it, probably after they get you a booster seat.” I continued. “Or, I could hold you in my arms like a little baby and see how many times I can make you cum before you’re poofed right out of the game.” I added.

 

She shook her head. “Please, let me go back to my chair!” she pleaded.

 

I of course already knew what I was going to do, but the rush of power I was experiencing was absolutely intoxicating and I had no intention of giving it up. I turned her in my arms and lay her back in the crook of my arm and pressed my nipple to her lips. “Suck my titty like a good girl and I’ll think about letting you go.” I told her.

 

She blushed and squirmed but obediently latched onto my nipple after spitting her gum out onto the floor, first sucking like she would a cock, which, given the size difference, wasn’t too far off the mark, but gradually she fell into a more rhythmic and automatic method, one that was more akin to a baby nursing from their mother.

 

My large fingers teased her tiny pussy and sweet little asshole, bringing a shuddering gasp from her that was barely audible around my massive breast. “You tinkled all over me, didn’t you?” I asked her.

 

She whimpered and nodded as she bucked against my fingers, her breathing and sucking becoming more erratic as she neared the first of her climaxes.

 

“Do you think I should put you in a diaper because you can’t control yourself?” I asked.

 

She shook her head as the first orgasm came.

 

“No?” I asked. “But you’re making another mess right now.” I reminded her.

 

She closed her eyes and blushed harder.

 

“If you ask me very nicely to put you in a diaper I’ll think about letting you go back to your chair.” I told her.

 

The pop of my nipple coming out of her mouth was audible even in the loud room. “Like, please put me in a diaper.” she pleaded breathlessly as the second orgasm came.

 

I looked to the gruff man and he produced a diaper from thin air, holding it out for me to take. Standing with her still cradled and nursing, I walked over to her side of the table and lay her down on her back next to her pittance of a chip stack and smiled down at her. “Mommy has no wipes, baby, she’ll have to clean you some other way.” I told her hungrily as I knelt down and ran my tongue up the length of her pink, puffy lips, counting the third orgasm as I repeated the motion and cleaned her little hole with the tip of my tongue.

 

Completely spent, she put up no resistance as I taped the diaper onto her, smiling at the realization that she’d been able to fit into an actual baby diaper before I picked her back up and returned her to the cradle of my arm, rocking her softly as I returned to my chair, watching her eyes struggle to stay open as I sat down. “Please.” she said absently before returning my nipple to her mouth.

 

“Fill your diaper like a helpless little baby and I’ll think about letting you go back to your chair.” I cooed to her quietly, my attention turning to the countdown timer that had appeared to signal the amount of time she had left.

 

She grunted and furrowed her brow before the seat of her diaper slowly expanded until she quieted down and resumed her tranquil nursing.

 

“Enjoy the rest of your life, baby.” I whispered as the timer reached zero and she disappeared from my arms.

 

The monitor above flashed to life once again and my little bimbo appeared on her back in a crib sleeping peacefully as she sucked her thumb beside an actual baby. The door to the nursery opened and a man strode in with three kids in tow all clamoring excitedly about playing with “mommy”.

 

“I told you not to call her that, she’s your little sister now.” the man chastised them as he picked up the real baby first and then my little bimbo as the doorbell rang somewhere else in the house. “That’s probably the sitter, go let her in while I start changing the babies and once she takes over I’ll finish getting ready for my date.” he explained to the kids.

 

The monitor went black just as my little bimbo’s eyes fluttered open and she began to spout obscenities at her former husband turned Daddy.

 

“Whew, I’ll bet that little lady is going to have trouble sitting down for a while.” the overhead voice declared. “Hopefully she’ll adjust to her new role in the family in time to be flower girl at the wedding of her Daddy and new Mommy.” it added before fading away in a malicious laugh.

 

With only two other players at the table and my chip stack now greater than both of theirs combined, I smiled and sat back in my chair looking at the small amount of time remaining in the round and fantasizing about seeing Keith again at the break and keeping my power trip rolling.

 

To Be Continued…

[Cya]

I loved what happened to the prim and proper woman who basically became a bratty bimbo baby pamper packer. Nicely done. It's also kind of nice to see Junko experiencing power for once in her life, but she has kind of became a Frankenstein in the process. No, I don't mean because of the Futa(although I'm definitely not a fan of that), but because of how this new found size and strength is literally going to her head. She has become what she has always hated.

[TheUnknownAuthor]

On 7/22/2020 at 7:30 AM, Cya said:

I loved what happened to the prim and proper woman who basically became a bratty bimbo baby pamper packer. Nicely done. It's also kind of nice to see Junko experiencing power for once in her life, but she has kind of became a Frankenstein in the process. No, I don't mean because of the Futa(although I'm definitely not a fan of that), but because of how this new found size and strength is literally going to her head. She has become what she has always hated.

Yeah, Keith might have some issues with the new Junko, if he's still in the game that is.

This story is a blast to write because I'm not burdened by the "are people going to like it" aspect, I just assume no one will like it because it has so many different things in it that it won't fit in here, but all the weird and out there things I get to play around with makes it so fun.

Thanks for reading!

[Sarah Penguin]

[TheUnknownAuthor]

VII

“The Nuts”

“Part Three: Keith”

 

It was Summer when she walked into my store, the heat from outside coming in in a thick rush as she pushed open the door, the bell overhead tinkling softly to signal her arrival. She breathed a small sigh as the cool, air conditioned air encircled her and looked to the counter, and me, and smiled and waved.

 

She was so small, this tiny little woman in a lime green dress, her cream colored sunhat too large for her proportions, making her look like a little girl playing dress up. I waved back and asked her if she needed any help finding anything and she stared for a moment and shook her head, bowing slightly as she muttered something in Japanese and looked to the store ahead and began moving forward, her sandals shuffling on the floor and slapping gently at the bottoms of her feet.

 

I watched her on the small monitor below the counter, her movements and mannerisms conveying her apprehension as she moved to the section of the store the people tended to behave that way in. When she made her way back to the counter with the large package in tow, hoisting it up onto the counter and setting it down with a dense thud.

 

I smiled reassuringly at her and she flushed and bowed her head to hide behind the brim of her hat. “Hey, there’s no shame in needing those things.” I told her as I rang up her purchase.

 

She didn’t say anything but opened the small wallet in her well worn purse and pulled out more money than she needed to give me, thrusting her arm forward as she continued to look downward.

 

I took the money and counted what she owed me and reached out to take her hand to put the remainder back in it, causing her to jump and back away as she began to speak frantically in Japanese.

 

“Hey, hey, hey, I was just giving you your money back, I’m sorry.” I told her, setting the money on the counter with my hands up by my head.

 

The wet pattering sound stopped both of our talking with her looking down at her feet with a gasp and obviously distressed sentiments in her native tongue. I leaned forward to see that she was wetting herself, and not a small amount either, a sizable puddle forming where she stood.

 

“Oh, gosh, I’m sorry, let me get you a towel or something.” I hurriedly offered as I moved to a small stack of cleaning towels below the counter. “You can use the restroom to clean up if you like.” I offered.

 

She looked up at me with watery eyes and said something quietly in Japanese, her face flushed with embarrassment.

 

I held out the towel for her to take but she just stood there as her flow slowed and finally stopped, leaving both of us standing in silence. “I’m going to go get a mop, take the towel and clean up, okay?” I tried to communicate with her using gestures as I spoke, but she just stared at me blankly.

 

With a heavy sigh I pointed at the package of diapers on the counter and then at her and she nodded bowed her head, sniffling as she looked back down at the puddle she was standing in.

 

Moving from around the counter to the door, I locked it and flipped my “Open” sign around and went to get my mop, only to have her grab my wrist and look up at me with the saddest eyes I’d ever seen before looking back at the package of diapers on the counter. I looked at the diapers and then at her and pointed to myself in disbelief. “You want ME to do that for you?!” I asked her, knowing she wasn’t going to understand me, but hoping my pointing would get the point across.

 

She nodded softly and fished into her purse to produce a baby’s pacifier that she put into her mouth.

 

My first reaction was anger, I was mad that this grown woman had just pissed herself on my floor and now seemed to be begging me to not only clean up the mess she’d made but also to diaper her as she took a step back into her infancy and away from personal responsibility. I looked around, assuming I was on some kind of hidden camera show or something. Once I was sure nothing was being done at my own expense, I felt sorry for this girl, wondering if she wasn’t all there mentally or emotionally and the language barrier she was behind made it nearly impossible for her to function in the world on an adult level.

 

I took her hand from my wrist gently and held it in mine like I would do with a scared child and went to the package of diapers and opened it to remove one before leading her to the aisle with the wipes and powder and grabbing them in the crook of my arm, looking at her standing with her head bowed before we made our way to the small bathroom, her flip flops shuffling softly and squishing as she followed. I spread the towel out on the floor of the bathroom with the gathered supplies beside it and swallowed hard and cleared my throat as I gently slid the straps of her dress from her small shoulders, sending the lime green garment pooling to the floor around her feet. I removed her sunhat and marveled at how truly beautiful she was as she stood with her eyes closed softly sucking on her pacifier.

 

I quickly noticed the bruises on her body as I helplessly drank in the sight of her now naked form save for the soaked pink panties with strawberries on them. She had bruises on her side and hips as well as her thighs, some obviously old but others quite fresh. I hooked a finger beneath her chin and lifted her head, smiling warmly as her green eyes opened and looked up at me. “Did someone hurt you?” I asked her.

 

She surprised me by nodding softly, fresh tears forming in her eyes.

 

“You understood me?” I asked.

 

She nodded again, the sucking of her pacifier quickening. “Little English.” she said softly, the pacifier distorting her words into a more infantile pronunciation.

 

I nodded. “You understand what you’re asking me to do for you here though, right?” I asked her.

 

She nodded. “Junko not know how to put on diaper.” she confessed, revealing her name to me.

 

“That’s your name, Junko?” I asked.

 

She nodded.

 

“Well, that’s a very pretty name.” I told her. “My name is Keith.” I added, taking her hand softly to shake it.

 

She blushed and bowed. “I am sorry for what happen on the floor, Mr. Keith.” she said quietly.

 

I waved her apology away with a flip of my hand. “Accidents happen.” I told her.

 

She kept her eyes on the floor but nodded. “Bad men hurt Junko.” she said softly. “Make Junko not know when she need to potty.” she added.

 

I stared at her in disbelief. “Someone hurt you and made you incontinent?” I asked.

 

She nodded and threw her arms around me, burying her face into my torso as she hugged me tightly. “Mr. Keith help Junko?” she asked, barely understandable between her buried face and the pacifier still in her mouth.

 

I hugged her back, awkwardly, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable by having a stranger groping all over her naked body. “First thing’s first, we need to get your little accident sorted out, then we can sit and talk about what else we need to do, okay?” I asked her.

 

She nodded and broke our hug slowly, letting me take her hand in mine as I knelt down and guided her down to the towel where she obediently lay on her back and let me remove her soaked panties.

 

I watched her face as I set to the task of cleaning her up, her eyes were closed and the pacifier between her lips bobbed rhythmically as I wiped her clean and opened the diaper, smoothing it out before sliding it under her bottom as she lifted herself up from the towel. Once the powder went on and the diaper was pulled up between her legs and taped into place she opened her eyes and sat up, scooting forward until she was able to wrap her legs and arms around me and sigh contentedly.

 

“Mr. Keith take good care of Junko.” she said softly.

 

I hugged her again and felt the strangest sense of responsibility wash over me, like I’d just found a baby in a basket on my porch on a rainy night and was now the sole source of care and protection for the helpless bundle of joy. My thoughts derailed immediately when she pulled herself away from me and removed the pacifier from her mouth with a free hand to kiss me softly on the lips, her velvety tongue flitting over and around my own like a hummingbird exploring a group of flowers. I kissed her back, not my proudest moment, the feeling of taking advantage of her stabbing my head and heart like a dagger, but she was beautiful and helpless and nearly naked and I’m not made of stone, though one part of me seemed to be in that moment.

 

She broke our kiss and giggled sweetly, a melodic sound that surprised me nearly as much as her beginning to rub her diapered posterior back and forth over my hardness. “Mr. Keith like Junko?” she asked.

 

I swallowed hard and nodded. “Yes, very much.” I huskily croaked.

 

She giggled again and slid backward, her diaper rustling as she plopped down onto the towel and reached out for the zipper of my pants. “Junko like Mr. Keith.” she said as she brought the zipper down and reached within the opening with her delicate fingers, finding her prize deftly and loosing it from its underwear prison, bringing it into the light with a surprised gasp that formed her little mouth into a near perfect “o”. She leaned forward and kissed the head softly before looking up at me, “Baby Junko want Daddy Keith special milk.” she cooed softly.

 

I stared at her in disbelief for a moment, unable to fully grasp what she’d just said as much as the infantile yet wholly seductive way she’d said it, but before I could even begin to process anything, she’d taken me into her mouth and was beginning what would go down in my personal history as the single most confusing but ultimately best blowjob I’d ever received.

 

**********

 

We lay on the towel I’d diapered her on after I’d given her what she’d been working for and she’d swallowed it all without spilling a drop. She’d climbed on top of me, clinging to me like a baby would to its parent, mewling softly as she fought sleep, sucking her pacifier once again as I stroked her hair and gently rocked her with the movement of my own body.

 

“Who hurt you, Junko?” I asked her quietly.

 

She hugged tighter. “Bad men.” she said. “Daddy Keith no let bad men hurt Junko.” she added.

 

I sighed. “Junko, I’m not your Daddy, we just met.” I explained.

 

She shook her head. “You Junko Daddy, you take care of baby Junko, make her happy and safe.” she told me.

 

I lifted her up and away from me so she was looking at me. “Junko, you’re a grown woman, not a baby.” I told her. “I can be your friend, maybe more once we get to know each other, but I’m not anything more than that right now, do you understand?” I asked.

 

She stared at me for a long moment and then scrunched up her face as she clenched her fists and began to make straining sounds.

 

Confusion washed over me as I held her, completely clueless as to what was happening until she broke wind, a muffled burbling sound that preceded the light crackling and rustling of her diaper expanding as she filled the seat of it, leaving me slack jawed and unable to believe what had just happened.

 

“Baby Junko make stinky.” she said in that same higher, more childish voice, made all the more childish as it traveled around her pacifier.

 

The fluidity of my actions still amazes me. I rose with her, peeling her off of me as the stink of her mess began to fill the small back room and planted her on her feet before I grabbed her dress from the floor and dropped it over her head, guiding her arms through the strap holes and plopped her hat unceremoniously on her head before I grabbed her hand and pulled her to the front of the store, wincing at the reek of her first accident still pooled on the floor in front of my counter. She was stammering and pulling against me but the end result was the same, her standing outside my shop with the door locked behind her, her opened package of diapers in her arms, pacifier still in her mouth, and stinky diaper drooping beneath her dress.

 

“Freak.” I muttered angrily as I moved to grab my mop and bucket to clean up her original mess, glad I’d come to my senses and ejected her from my life before things got too far out of hand.

 

To Be Continued...

[Cya]

You know what I love about this story? You captured how almost every guy would've acted during that situation after the diaper change. Keith was more than happy to get head, but once he came and she started acting super clinging, he basically kicked her to the curb. I'm sorry if I sound incredibly cruel, but that's just how the male mind works after an orgasm. 

[TheUnknownAuthor]

1 hour ago, Cya said:

You know what I love about this story? You captured how almost every guy would've acted during that situation after the diaper change. Keith was more than happy to get head, but once he came and she started acting super clinging, he basically kicked her to the curb. I'm sorry if I sound incredibly cruel, but that's just how the male mind works after an orgasm. 

I think he kicked her to the curb more because things got incredibly weird for him over post coitus disinterest. I mean, he was going above and beyond to help this stranger and she was attractive and willing so he gave in to his base desires but then she started talking more like a baby and went so far as to shit herself in his arms, so I'd argue that noping out was the more sane and rational solution than anything that came before.

I'm glad you like the story and really appreciate you reading and taking time to comment!