Trip's Sticky Kidz: Premium Explicit Content

Chapter 5
Twist of the Knife (Spring 2014)

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Chapter Description: Twist of the Knife represents the first book-length project I've brought to the ARchive-- six novellas that span almost 170 pages and about 60,000 words. Four of the stories can be purchased separately at $9.95 apiece; the book as a whole can be had for $29.95; and "Torn," the second story in the collection, is linked here as a free gift.

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Go here to read "Torn:" http://www.ararchive.com/index.php?option=com_ewriting&Itemid=7&func=storyinfo&story=1158

Torn is just one of six stories available in Twist of the Knife, my first book-length AR project. Clocking in at nearly 170 pages and almost 60,000 words, there’s something for everybody in this one, which you can order for $29.95 (PayPal) to littletrip at live dot com.

You get these stories (samples below!)--

--== One More Night (by nico) ==--

“I wanna…I wanna…” The five-year-old panted as he yanked on his rubbery dinky. “I wanna put my pee-pee in your…in your…”

Daniel stopped, wide-eyed and open-mouthed. Jennifer mirrored the expression, staring at the little boy in bottomless awe. He doesn’t know what it’s called, she realized. He used to all but worship it and now he doesn’t even know its name…doesn’t even know what to do with it because I turned him into an itty…bitty…

“Ahhh…ahhhhhhh…AHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

Jennifer practically screamed as she threw her head back and let the greatest orgasm of her life rock her body and shatter her consciousness into a million little pieces. She hissed and bucked as lights and colors flowered in the darkness, as she reveled in the magnificent release her power had granted her. A lifetime seemed to pass before she finally gasped and slumped against the bed, stomach heaving and flawless skin shining with a sheen of sweet sweat. The young woman basked in the afterglow until she was brought back to reality by the whines and whimpers of her companion…until she opened her eyes and immediately started laughing at the sight that greeted her. Little Danny was finally ready for his return to preschool. At four years old everything about him was tiny and soft and precious and adorable, his little body now so packed with baby fat that he couldn’t make even the smallest of movements without a jiggle or a wobble. That fact only made his continued attempts at self-pleasure all the more adorable, as the little boy’s pudgy thighs and round little tummy would bounce in time whenever he would hop up and down in an attempt to push an extra bit of ecstasy out of his stiff little pee-pee.

“S’not funny!” He wailed as he squeezed big fat tears onto his chubby, burning cheeks. “S’not fair! I wan’ good pee-pee feewings too!”

Jennifer grinned as she pushed herself onto her knees and shuffled over to agitated little preschooler, chuckling a little at the way he seemed both fascinated and terrified by the naked female body that, even when kneeling, towered over his tiny and babyish form.

“I thought I told you,” she cooed, “that good little boys don’t play with themselves.”

--== Torn (idea by Fossil) ==--

“Lift up,” Mommy coos, and Ricky does, bearing weight down on his feet to elevate his hips high into the air. She slides the diaper beneath the canopy of his body, crinkly plastic sliding against the damp terry of the bath towel, an invitingly soft inside awaiting the weight of Ricky’s smooth posterior.

“And down.” Ricky does. He feels immense pleasure course up his spine the moment his sensitive rear end sets upon the pillowlike fluffiness of the diaper. His eyes roll back into his head. His cock twitches, and leaks.

Mommy chuckles lovingly and begins puffing powder all over Ricky’s butter-smooth groin, the lowest echelons of his belly, onto his barely-parted thighs, into the perfect whiteness of the diaper beneath.

Her hands – warm, angelic, without flaw – descend upon his private areas; with great love and tenderness do they massage the sweet-scented powder into Ricky’s aching crotch, the talc’s soporific properties both olfactory and tactile.

“Mommy—”

Large, spherical baubles of pre-ejaculate form at Ricky’s slit and dribble down his straining shaft, mixing in with the powder to create a creamy, lotionlike paste. With an expert grip does Mommy massage this lotion into Ricky’s needful spire.

Ricky squirms. He moans. His toes curl. His anus contracts.

“…Mommy!...”

With one hand she palms Ricky’s boiling testicles and inserts her middle finger into his rectum, the sphincter having yielded for but an instant before contracting around the digit and holding it in place. With her other hand does Mommy stroke upwards, her thumb running over the swollen plum of Ricky’s head, the ducts in his penis stiffening with content as his balls rush to deliver their payload to Baby’s world.

There is a moment of great, ear-splitting intensity. Then, silence.

Silence all across the universe.

--== Last Resort (idea by wishfulthinker) ==--

“One,” said Michelle, and though the skin of Tony’s ass undulated with adiposity, it was still as white as could be. Tony, for his part, bit his bottom lip.

Smack! “Two.”

SMACK! “Three!”

By this point, I could tell Tony was feeling, if nothing else, the psychological effects of what was happening to him. His bottom lip was still tucked beneath one white incisor, and lines of clear liquid appeared to be brimming along the pouches of his eyelids.

The indignity – especially in front of his peers, in front of Michelle – was completely infantilizing.

SMACK! SMACK!! SMACK!!!

“Six!”

Tony had begun to cry, pretty, salty droplets falling from his lachrymal ducts to moisten the couch cushions below. He kept his voice low, in short, choked-off sobs, attempting to hold on to his manhood.

His butt was beginning to turn a hot pink.

SMACK! “Seven!” SMACK!! “Eight!” SMACK!!! “Nine!”

Tony, the once-proud college man, was now crying, openly bawling, begging through piercing wails in half-understood blubbering for mercy.

“Please!” the boy cried, his rump afire and in agony. “I’m sorry! I’m really sorry! I -- *sob* -- I’ll never do it again! Just please, please stop spanking me-heee-heeeeee!”

Simmons grinned. Michelle redoubled her aggression, now quite comfortable with the role reversal.

SMACK!!!

“That was for embarrassing me in front of my friends!”

SMACK!!!

“That was for insisting on ordering for me, and then ‘forgetting’ your wallet!”

SMACK!!! SMACK!!! SMACK!!!

“These are for every sidelong glance you ever gave another woman!” SMACK!!! “Fifteen!”

Tony was wailing, closed-eyed and wide-mouthed, much as a toddler would. Drool spilled from his lips and tears streaked his cheeks. The crimson point of impact that now colored his butt cheeks was a far cry from the paleness of the rest of his chubby body.

“Plea-hea-hea-heaaase! PLEASE make it sto-ho-hooop!!”

“Say you’ve been a naughty boy!” SMACK!!!

“I’ve been a very naughty little boy!”

SMACK!!! “Say you deserve to have your mushy little baby butt spanked!” SPANK!!! “Eighteen!”

“I--*sniff*--I deserve to have my mushy little baby butt--*sob*--spanked!”

--== They’re So Cute at That Age (idea by Charlie) ==--

“What, you want me to pwove it?”

Shawn rolled his eyes. “That’s likely. I’ve known you almost your whole life. You’re pretty protective of your modesty.”

The littler boy opened his mouth a bit and feigned incredulity. “You make me sound boring!”

“If the diaper fits,” said Shawn, and he stuck out his tongue.

But Keith didn’t respond. Not for a few seconds, anyway.

Then he bit his lip, closed his eyes, held on to Shawn’s right forearm with both hands… and started pooping in his diaper.

“Seriously?” Shawn said quietly, almost whispering to himself. Though he did feel a rush of something for his nephew at that moment, and he was pretty sure it was admiration.

Keith opened his eyes just long enough to grunt a reply as he pushed another lump of shit into his diaper. “Seriouthwy.”

Shawn giggled giddily as his nephew squirmed, tensed, and pressed his tiny hardon against the front of his baby pants. The uncle could feel the intensity of the engorged organ as he slid his hand to the back of Keith’s diaper and felt it balloon up with mush.

The littler boy, for his part, continued to grunt and strain and push as he felt himself build up towards orgasm.

Shawn, too, was aroused. For some reason, he felt no shame at the incestuousness of the rendezvous; there was no salacious lust in the moment, at least as far as the boys had been familiar with as grown-ups. What was happening was the mere addressing of need that every baby in the world was programmed to prioritize.

The child’s prime directive: If it feels good, do it.

And it did feel good.

Shawn allowed himself to soak his diaper so that he could join his “brother” on the climb to climax. They wrapped their arms around one another, snuggling their bare bodies together as they forced the front panels of their diapers to press hard against their swollen, pulsating little pee-pees.

“Ungh,” said Keith, pinching off what he felt was to be the penultimate stool of his infantile accomplishment. “I’m awmost ‘ere… uhhnnng…”

Shawn breathed hotly against his brother’s ear. He bucked his diaper forward as his stream of urine trickled slowly to a stop.

“Me too,” he heaved. “Push… harder… NOW!”

Fireworks. Flashbangs. A moment in time dragged out to eternity.

--== 13 Hours in the Lives of Rising Children (idea by Groblek) ==--

Stop being so self-conscious, he chastised himself. You’re living a dream. An expensive, one-of-a-kind dream.

“Zacky wubs Mommy’s titty,” he offered breathlessly from around her leaking nipple. He had to admit, it sounded slightly less ridiculous coming out of his mouth than it had loitering in his head.

Angela touched him just right. “Ahh!” he sighed, his body contorting slightly as his dick twitched off another drop of pre-cum.

“God, I want you inside me,” breathed Angela.

“I wanna be inside you.”

“We’re not prepared,” she lamented. “If I’m gonna get pregnant with you tomorrow, I don’t wanna end up pregnant with your kid tonight.”

Zach chuckled. As much as the two of them had psyched themselves up for the most scientifically-advanced, world-changing medical procedure in the history of mankind, it was the little wrinkles like that one that still managed to take them by surprise.

Angela’s 13-year-old husband freed himself from her lap and wiped her milk from his lips. He felt like an alien in his own body as he shifted his diminutive frame along their conjoined hospital beds. Finally, he settled on a familiar position: lying down, his head propped up on a couple of pillows, his legs splayed open with his aching cock reaching needfully into the air.

“When I was thirteen,” Zach said with a shy smile, “I thought I was the only guy in my circle of friends, if not the entire junior high school, who’d never gotten a blowjob.”

Angela smiled and dabbed at her chest with the bedlinen. “I think that’s a pretty common thing.”

“Of course, it never occurred to me how silly that was. How much bullshit kids that age spew, thinking it makes ‘em sound adult.”

Angela got onto her hands and knees and crawled seductively towards Zach, taking a position between his slight, hairless legs.

“Well, as long as we’re confessing things,” she offered quietly, “I kind of wonder from time to time what it’d be like getting a young guy off.”

“How young?” asked Zach, his voice cracking. The two of them had to laugh at that.

“Someone cute and virginal. Thirteen, fourteen.”

Zach grinned. “There’s a little ephebophile in all of us.”

Angela looked her husband up and down. She had to admit that he was adorable. Between his freckles, his string-bean build, and his bite-sized hardon, Zacky Connor personified her most secret sexual fantasy. She silently thanked circumstance that she got this quality time with him before he became the bun in her oven.

Their gazes met. Their eyes glinted in the institutional fluorescence. Zach tucked his bottom lip beneath his front teeth.

Angela descended upon him.

--== The Trip Back (sequel to "21 New Messages") ==--

But before I do… picture two girls, teenagers, with glorious bodies and captured minds. One, my girlfriend Natalie, the other, her friend, Shawna…

…and both of them in nothing but diapers. Just as you’d written it.

The crinkling echoed like music as they made love to one another this time. Bright eyes, moist lips, bouncing tits… and diaper grinding against diaper, just as your suggestions entered their minds.

More than they lusted for one another, they lusted for acting like babies. So they rolled off of one another and got to it. Crawling around, gazing wide-eyed at every little thing, drooling so stupidly onto the floor, their padded asses waving back and forth.

Natalie wanted to wet herself, so she did. I swear I could see her eyes roll back as she splayed her legs and loosed her bladder, the dark stain of infantile incontinence spreading, ever spreading, over her crotch, as I unzipped my pants and took them off.

My cock bled with want as she had an orgasm, all by herself, her hands clutching at the front of her diaper and kneading the moist polymers against her most private place, shrieking in babyish blather as a powerful force she temporarily couldn’t understand swept over her like a rogue wave.

It was at this time that I took out my cock, just as I had prescribed; it was long and hard and dripping and—tempting.

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Each story, except for "The Trip Back," is also available a la carte for $9.95 apiece.

So hit up littletrip at live dot com now and be without spank material no longer!

~luvs,

lt

 

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