Loving Care: The Stories of Lola Trechlyn

Chapter 6
VI - Little Champion II

Chapter Description: F on M, Mental AR. / Originally published on June 24th, 2007.

David couldn’t suppress a grin. After all this time, it was finally happening. Dana’s perfect feminine figure stood in front of him, wearing only a bra and a pair of pink, lacy panties. David’s cock poked out of the fly of his boxers and dripped pre-cum onto the carpeting beneath him. At last, displaying the ultimate hunger David shared, Dana stepped forward and gripped David’s throbbing cock in her soft, delicate hand, and stroked. In one fluid motion, she dropped to her knees and wrapped the 15-year-old’s aching shaft in her warm, silky mouth.

David’s eyes rolled into the back of his head and he let out a guttural moan. Dana worked the boy’s cock like an expert, slathering it in her slick saliva and offering a slight humming gesture to really work the teenager into a frenzy. David responded with immediacy, feeling his balls tighten as Dana took each of them into her mouth. The girl returned to David’s attentive head and sucked it like a lollipop.

“Dana -- I’m coming!!”

David howled as he reached orgasm. He regained consciousness, snapping awake in time to feel the sensation of his hot load pulse out of his cock and hammer into the front of his diaper. He continued to moan, his eyes shut tight, his hand massaging the front of his soaked diaper as shot after shot of sticky semen coated his imprisoned crotch. David savored the sensation of squirming around in his messy diaper and unloading every last bit of teen spunk into its moist fabric. Finally, when the storm seceded, the boy, wrapped in the euphoria of afterglow, opened his eyes -- and saw Tricia and Dana standing over his crib, laughing their asses off.

“Aww, did widdwe Davy have a nice nap?” Dana chuckled.

“I think he was having a very hot dream!” said Tricia. “Maybe he was thinking of you, Dana!” The other girl grimaced at the thought. David blushed fiercely, the feeling of blood rushing to his cheeks complementing his frustration. How could they have known?

“Pee-yew!” Dana said, holding her nose. “Smells like baby Davy needs a bath!”

David smiled and clapped his hands. “Baffie!!” He clamped his palms to the front of his mouth and shed a humiliated tear; the very act of sleeping had rendered his emotional regression permanent. The nightmare had become a reality.

Dana lowered the side of the crib and took David by the hand, bringing him to his feet. As the boy gathered his thoughts, he realized that, once again, he was clothed only in a double-thick disposable diaper, soaked and loaded from a slumber the length of which the teen was unaware. Dana and Tricia each held one of the 15-year-old’s hands and led him out of the clear plexiglass room and into a strange parody of a house, its floorplan unfamiliar to David, with all of the appliances seemingly made out of cardboard. The boy’s only solace was that his other ex-girlfriends -- Jeanette, Petra, Sidney, and Joanie -- appeared to have left the three alone in a merciful disappearing act.

David sniffled in embarrassment as ex-girlfriend Tricia and high school crush Dana led his toddling form through the hallways of the house. He winced at the disgusting feeling of the stinking load dangling between his legs, supported only by a diaper which threatened to drop to the floor with every step. At last, the threesome made it to a very real, very well-equipped bathroom... where, to David’s ever-compounding horror, the other four girls awaited.

The girls exchanged knowing chuckles as Dana gently guided David into a laying position on the bathmat.

No... not this again...!

“NO!” David squealed. The teenager squirmed around and beat his fists and heels against the bathmat beneath him. “NONONONONONAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH!!”

Jeanette and Joanie held down David’s wrists; Petra and Sidney, his ankles. Dana knelt between David’s knees and untapped his diaper. She was prepared for the revulsion this time and gagged only once or twice as she cleaned away the boy’s feces and semen, handing the used wipes and diaper off to Tricia for disposal. By the time he was clean and his ex-girlfriends were lifting him up and guiding him into a bathtub filled with warm water, he had burst into tears again, bawling like the baby he was quickly becoming and was already regarded as being by his amused company.

David attempted to dissociate himself from the terror surrounding him as the six girls soaped up his naked body and bathed him as if he were but a toddler. He sniffled, a line of snot working free of his right nostril and falling onto his chest. Tricia guided a soapy rag around the teen’s genitals; then, the girls ordered him into a kneeling position. Bereft of strength and his own volition, the boy did so, and the girls giggled to themselves as they soaped up David’s butt, sliding fingers inside of him as the boy caught gasps in his throat. He had never been so resolutely manhandled in his life, and he thought to himself that he could go the rest of his days (however worthless they were to him, now and forever) without such a humiliation befalling him again.

The girls pronounced Baby Davy clean and led him out of the tub. Again, his naked form was laid upon the bathmat and dried; as he heard the sound of the water being let down the drain, David assumed that he was doomed to another disposable diaper. But when he lifted his head up to see his next trial, the teenager realized that nothing could have prepared him for the image that confronted his psyche.

Tricia knelt before him, holding in her hands a straight razor and a can of shaving cream. David whined as his ex-girlfriend squirted some of the cream into her palms and began rubbing it into the boy’s crotch.

This isn’t happening. This isn’t happening!

“Babies don’t have hair down there,” Tricia said matter-of-factly. “I never thought you deserved this sign of ?manhood,’ anyway. Now, behave yourself and lay still, lest you lose anything the six of us have decided you can keep.”

David swallowed the lump in his throat and lay as motionless as possible. Tricia listened with delight at the sound of her ex-boyfriend’s sobbing as she carefully shaved the pubic hair from his crotch. Wisps of curly hair fell to the bathmat as she denuded the duplicitous 15-year-old, robbing from him the last vestige of his ostensible adulthood.

David lifted his head up to find his cock and testicles as bare and babylike as they had been during his infancy. He had no more tears to spill.

Dana assisted Tricia in rediapering the pathetic boy, rubbing lotion into his smooth crotch and holding the front of the thick, disposable diaper fast to David’s tummy as the other girls secured its tapes. Before long, David was once again a clean, diapered little angel, so deliciously tortured by his well-deserved punishment.

“Has it started yet?” Tricia asked.

“I don’t know,” Dana replied. “I can’t tell.”

David blinked. What the hell are they talking about?

The chemicals that the girls had diluted into the bathwater prior to David’s ordeal coursed their way through the teen’s bloodstream and entered his brain. The boy felt a wave of confusion wash over him as the adulterated bathwater, so recently absorbed into his pores, penetrated his cerebral cortex and began massacring the brain cells inside, converting them to free radicals and setting off the neurological equivalent of a fireworks show.

David giggled at the sensation and pushed his thumb into his mouth. The chemicals worked quickly, destroying everything he had learned thus far in high school, then going to work on the book knowledge he had picked up during his elementary years. He squirmed around in his diaper and felt total euphoria as he lost basic math, then, the ability to read.

Baby Davy vewy smawt, he thought. Me know how to use potty. A few seconds later, he didn’t even know that.

David’s fine motor skills melted away into nothing. His muscles twitched and he kicked his teenaged legs around in much the same manner an infant would.

Dis feew good.

He popped his thumb out of his mouth, anxious to tell the girls around him about the ultimate high he had achieved.

“Da-ba-gooooo-bee!” said David. “Ababa-gaaaa... boopeepoo! Babagaaaa.” The 15-year-old let out a giggle as his mind re-entered infancy, devoid of knowledge and corruption, a tabula rasa in the hands of six very capable, very vindictive young ladies.

“I guess that answers that question,” Tricia chuckled. The girls gazed down upon the oversized infant and saw in their little champion the most colorful of futures.

Retrospective

Boy, did I screw the pooch on this one, or what? Name your cliche: The sequel is never as good as the original. Name your analogy: Compare the horror that is the sixth season of "24" to the horror that is the sixth story of Lola Trechlyn. There is, in fact, an explanation. I was very close to completing my first official paid commission, into which I had infused every last drop of talent and creativity I could muster. I had to pour whatever was left into "Little Champion II," like draining the grease from a tilted pan.

Nobody actually voiced their dislike of it, but the phrase "both of the story’s fans" basically says it all. The people who didn’t eviscerate June 24th’s "Little Champion II" were probably asleep halfway through it. They get a good night’s sleep, I get away with half-assing it, we all win!

Yes, it’s a well-written story, and at times is maybe a little hot. But it’s nothing -- nothing -- you haven’t read a million times before. With this in mind, I knew I had to redeem myself with another shift in paradigm come time for Story VII. Two fails in a row would not stand...

Thanks for reading. -lt

No, really, THANK YOU, if you read the whole thing. Really, thanks. And sorry. -lt