Addiction

Chapter 1
Good Morning Starshine

Today: Time Unknown

1- Good morning starshine

You lead us along

My love and me as we sing

Our early morning singing song

-Oliver; “Good Morning Starshine”

The sun shone in on Damien’s nursery, the ephemeral beams of light only being blocked by the wooden beams of little Damien’s crib. The sky blue walls with painted clouds completed the illusion of an open atmosphere once the sunlight hit them. His mobile was long still since he had drifted off the night before. The only sounds that came into little Damien’s room were the pleasant sounds of the world waking up with him. Birds were chirping their happy songs and squirrels were chittering their merry conversations as Damien’s eyes fluttered open.

He gave his pacifier a thoughtful suck or two as he resumed consciousness, departing the land of dreams from which he had stirred. His gums, naked save for a single tooth that was rising from the front, chewed on the rubber nipple. Damien smiled and cooed at the feeling of the soft teat massaging his gums. It was a great day to be alive. He rolled over and looked at his stuffed dog beside him, before babbling incoherently about the wonderful dream he had just had.

“Wakey wakey, little one,” a sweet and familiar sounding voice called out from above Damien. Damien looked up and saw his whole world right there. She was beautiful. Damien recognized that even at his age. Not sexy, perhaps, but beautiful. The sun made her blonde hair shimmer, even as it was tied back in a tight pony tail. Her bone structure was a little angular and on the lean side, but not gaunt; her complexion wasn’t tanned or radiant, but neither was it pale. Her breasts had become larger than you might think when looking at her frame, but not comically so.

This woman, leaning over Damien’s crib in her June Cleaver dress and pearl necklace, could be described not as a woman, but as a classically idealized form of a woman. She belonged more as a statue, or immortalized on canvas than as a centerfold. Her beautiful blue eyes shined with complete and total affection for the little guy. Any man could get lost in those eyes, like the knowing eyes of a certain painting with an even more famous smile; but that man would not likely be thinking of bedding her as much as snuggling with her and just being with her rather than being inside her.

She had the air of a veteran mother many times over, but the expression of a new mother still reveling in her first child. And her voice, Damien instinctively knew, was that of a goddess. Her pronouncements were not law; they were simple fact. If you were bad, you were bad, and if you were the best baby ever, you were the best baby ever. In short, she was-

“Mmmmaaa ma!” Damien squealed in excitement.

“That’s right, baby boy!” Mama agreed. “It’s your Mama!” Damien held his hands up in the air to greet this most welcome sight and to request that she pick him up.

“Does my boy want up?” Mama asked. “Does he?” Damien, for his part didn’t so much as nod as babble his affirmation. Her hands grasped around his waist and Damien flew through the air to his mother’s hip, resting comfortably there. He immediately became aware of the saturated diaper between his legs as he squished wetly against his mama’s side. He gyrated his hips against her in a primitive form of masturbation, even though the word “masturbate” meant nothing to him yet.

“Num-nums first,” Mama said, pecking her boy on the forehead. “Then, diaper change.”

Recognizing the tone, if not the words, Damien found a modicum of patience as Mama carried him over to the big rocking chair where she fed him every morning. She repositioned Damien so that he was sitting in her lap. Hungrily, perhaps even with a hint of lust if you listened to Freud, Damien stared at his Mama’s breasts. Instinctively, he knew that the delicious milk was there. Damien leaned forward slightly, his mouth opening to receive his mama’s tits. From there, he knew, he would suck and suck and suck and suck until time lost all meaning. Then when he was done, it would be time for a new diaper.

“Uh-uh, big boy,” Mama said, gently pushing him back into a sitting position. Damien whimpered pathetically. He really wanted to suck on his mama’s titties. He really wanted to. They were a source of food, a primal symbol of sexual stimulation, and toys; and therefore the greatest things ever.

“I know, sweet boy, I know,” Mama gently stroked Damien’s head. “But you’ve got a big ol’ toof now, and Mama doesn’t want you to bite her.” Damien’s head drooped. He hated having toof. They made Mama’s titties go bye bye.

“Buuuut”, she reached over and dangled a bottle in front of him, its white contents sloshing about “I still have milky babas”.

“Ooooooooh!” Damien squealed involuntarily. Milky babas! That was almost as good as titty milk. Maybe a little better now, that Damien had a toof. He could bite and nom on the milky baba nipple and it wouldn’t make the baba go ouch like he did when he nommed on Mama’s titties.

Damien opened his mouth wide and Mama inserted the milky baba into his awaiting mouth. Sweet nectar dripped onto his tongue, and his mouth went on autopilot, guzzling the white stuff down without a further conscious thought. Had he been nursing at his mama’s breast, he would have closed his eyes and let her warmth cover his face, but instead he let his senses come alive as he half chewed, half suckled on the milky baba. Each sense brought new and wonderful information. The smell of Mama’s breath, the beauty and love of her eyes, the feeling of the cold and wet diaper between his legs contrasting with the warm touch of Mama’s skin. The feeling of the soft material on his fingers as he absentmindedly stroked himself through the front of his diaper. (Maybe he wasn’t so patient after all.) The way his gums tingled and bubbled with pleasure at being coated with fresh milk on the way to his tongue. He was teething all right.

Then, something different happened. Damien had no context for “odd”, but he understood new and different. And this was definitely both. Damien didn’t blink, so much as the world around him did, and now the milk in the baba had changed color. It had gone from a creamy white to a kind of deep pink. It was pinker and thicker than strawberry milk Damien thought, despite never having been allowed to have chocolate or strawberry milk in his life. He was much too little for that. No, this pink was almost ghastly in its hue- like a certain medicine that grown-ups take for tummy troubles. Based on the color, this milky baba belonged more in the medicine cabinet. But, the new color didn’t affect the taste, so Damien kept right on gorging.

“That’s right, baby boy,” Mama encouraged Damien. “Drink it all up. Good baby.” She tenderly caressed his cheek while he suckled.

Suddenly, Damien’s toof felt funny. It tickled, and not in the same aching way- the itch that needed to be scratched- that it had when it had first popped up. He stopped suckling and probed the offending object that had taken up residence in his mouth with his tongue. He pushed at it and… it moved? It moved! It moved back up into his gums where it had been living. Then it stopped; a shorter, but no less hard and intrusive object in his otherwise pink and smooth mouth.

Damien kept suckling at the milky baba, its newly pink contents slowly and surely draining into Damien’s waiting mouth and tummy. Again, Damien’s toof felt funny. Again, Damien stopped suckling and pushed up on the toof with his tongue. Again, the annoying white intruder slid further back into his gums.

The pink milky ba-ba was making the toof go back home! Damien began to practically inhale the pink milk from the ba-ba, creating a steady river flowing past his toof and over his gums. As the milk drained, his toof receded deeper and deeper into his gums, till finally, finally, his mouth was as empty as the baba his Mama had been holding. He smiled, a big toofless grin up at his adoring mama.

“Oh?” Mama inquired as she ran her index finger around her precious baby’s smooth gums. “Is Mama’s baby boy even more littler now?” she teased him in motherese. “Is he?”

“Da-ba-da-da-ma-ma” Damien babbled earnestly.

“Well then,” Mama said cupping her breasts, “that means that my little boy can suck on Mama’s titties, doesn’t it? Yes it does! Yes it does!” Damien’s mouth opened greedily again and he began to unconsciously lean towards his mama’s breasts.

Unfortunately, Damien was also full, and he knew it. Bubbles churned around in his tummy, making him feel bloated and gassy. His hands went to his tummy and held it as he mewled weakly. It hurt. Make it stop! Make it stop! Tears began to form.

“Oh, does my baby boy need to be burped?” Mama asked shifting the baby to that his head was resting on her shoulder. Obviously that was a rhetorical question. She began gently patting his back and rubbing it in circles. A pat here, and rub there. Damien felt the bubbles in his tummy stirring now and starting to move back up his throat until-

“Uuuurp!”

“Good baby!” Mama praised as she continued to burp Damien.

“Uuuuurp!” A second burp came. “Baaaaaar”, then a third. “Uuuuuuuurrrrrk”. Then a fourth. Finally, the bubbles in Damien’s tummy were either at rest or spilled out into the open air.

“I think that’s enough for now,” Mama said rising from the big rocking chair. “Maybe Mama will get her titty baby back a little later.” She walked across the nursery to an awaiting changing table. “But for now, let’s get you into a nice clean diaper.”

Damien recognized that last word and began cooing and gurgling again as Mama laid him down on the changing table and pulled a strap across him. He loved getting a diaper change almost as much as he loved getting milkies from Mama. Mama got out some wipes, some baby powder, and a new diaper before resting her palm on the front of Damien’s old wet one.

“But first, baby boy,” Mama began, “let’s get all the accidents you can have out of your system into the old diaper before we put a new one on you. Okay?” Damien felt her hand squeeze his penis through the thick wet padding. Then, Mama started to rub him through the diaper. Back and forth. Back and forth. Slowly at first, but as Damien’s gurgling became a kind of pleasured moan, she began to speed up.

“That’s right baby boy” Mama coaxed Damien, her sweet voice filling his brain. “Make cummies for Mama. Good boy! Make cummies in your diaper! Good boy!” Damien arched his back, trying his best to hump Mama’s hand. He started bucking right there on the changing table, thrusting his pelvis against Mama’s hand. His hands pinned down by the strap, Damien’s lips puckered in the air looking for something to suck. He felt the pressure beginning to really build up. He would explode soon and make cummies for Mama, just like she was telling him to. He was such a good baby.

BREEP! BREEP! BREEP! BREEP!