Trip's Sticky Kidz: Premium Explicit Content

Chapter 3
Transient Ecstasy (Summer 2013)

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Chapter Description: Humiliation V. Ecstasy II. Transient Ecstasy. The story that follows goes by many names; it breaks the bank at over 20,000 words and spans over 40 pages of X-rated debauchery. And now it's available for its lowest price ever ($12)-- and it comes with a copy of Ecstasy, the paean to AR, infantilism, and beautiful sex that started it all. Indulge your wildest desires and never, EVER feel ashamed of what makes you cum... unless shame makes you cum, of course.

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In February 2010, I published "Ecstasy," the follow-up to my debut as little trip ("Valedictorian 2013") and the second story in my Humiliation Cycle. Though, at a little over 12,000 words, it seems fleeting today, it was nevertheless the longest and most graphic tale I had yet written. It made no bones about exposing my chief inspiration (our erstwhile kinkster The Tainted Sins) and received positive feedback for its levels of description and service-to-the-story cruelty. I tried to put in something for everybody; and, as a result, many, many people were pleased.

I followed up that piece with the Humiliation anthologies "Some New Disaster" and "After the Wave," but I didn’t feel comfortable writing a direct sequel to "Ecstasy" until the summer of 2013. At that time, I put together the sprawling, 20,000 word sequel -- now the second installment of a planned trilogy set to conclude with "Ecstasy Finale" -- "Transient Ecstasy." Coupled with the commission fees of a few vignettes I incorporated, Ecstasy II’s second-market haul added to a cume of over $500... a disappointment, though every customer happened to fall in love.

Its original price at publication was $20, and I can’t help but think that more people would have taken the plunge had the cost been more palatable. Fortunately, enough months have passed such that I see no reason not to reduce the cost of "Transient Ecstasy" to its lowest and final price-- $12. The jam-packed work clocks in at over 40 pages and features regression both physical and mental, characters both male and female, sex both hetero and homo, and a handful of choice spices like incest, unbirthing, and cum-splattered hyper-orgies. As always, your satisfaction is guaranteed and you can order your copy (which comes wtih a convenient copy of the original Ecstasy) by PayPalling $12 to littletrip at live dot com. Be sure to send an e-mail telling me what you’ve ordered and to where you’d like the goods discretely sent.

Here are some select moments to wonk your conker...

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Cayden squirmed until he worked free of his jeans and bucked again as he removed Monica’s shirt and the lace bra beneath, tossing both aside to join the rapidly-expanding pile of the teens’ discarded clothes. The boy leaned forward and sucked upon Monica’s right nipple; it instantly stiffened in his mouth and caused the girl to moan loudly. Her pussy was already leaking into her panties and Cayden wrestled gracefully to get at the girl’s southern hemisphere. In no time at all, Monica was entirely naked, and Cayden remained squirming in his t-shirt and impossibly damp boxer-briefs, his turgid erection leaving shiny streaks upon his girlfriend’s inner thighs.

“Eat it,” she gasped. “Eat it, and then eat me.”

Cayden shuddered with total lustful abandon as he dragged his tongue up Monica’s leg and gathered up her sweat and his pre. He moved in on her vagina, teasing it with patient, labored flicks of his tongue, causing the girl to shiver and shudder and breathe out his name in half-understood heaves.

When Cayden looked up, though, to enjoy his beau’s expressions of sexual gratification, his gaze was instead greeted by the shocking, seemingly illusory, but increasingly undeniable sight of Monica’s quaking tits shrinking and tightening into the understated mounds of a girl two years her junior.

And Monica, noticing the distinct sensations of tightening flesh and the frozen-stiff tongue of a boyfriend who had become less engaged in the moment and more awash in sudden confusion, glanced downward and gasped when she saw Cayden’s t-shirt and boxers appear to grow and hang slackly on his frame. It was not his wardrobe, though, but his body that was changing in size, and it was to meet the stature of his sixteen-year-old self-- ill-defined muscles, awkward adolescent posture, and all.

Cayden and Monica were getting younger.

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“Shit-- shit!!” What was poor Alec to do? What was poor, panicked, petitely-penised Alec to do in the face of this terrible curse? The young teenager didn’t know. His voice cracked as he whined, fat tears coursing down his cheeks, indistinguishable from the shower’s bequest.

And then it came to him. He could reach orgasm. That’s what he could do. If he could only reach orgasm, he could reverse this revolting regression, mitigating his depression and bringing him back to the era during which he would be proud to be King.

Stroke.

Stroke.

STROKE...

“Aaahhh!!” Alec gasped.

His body shook. It shook, it shuddered, it spasmed. It twisted this way and that as the boy’s hand flew maniacally back and forth over his stiff, twitching rod.

Orgasm.

Release.

...But nothing came out.

“No! NO!!!”

The tears flowed anew as Alec looked down at his boyish pud, its slit hammering open and shut by reflex. There was nothing to shoot. He was too young.

Too little.

Too little a boy to even produce the sticky, clear fluid with which he had familiarized himself in tandem with masturbation when he was thirteen. Because he was no longer thirteen years old; he was eleven.

Eleven years old, and late for Prom.

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“Ashley, stop,” pleaded Maxwell. “I don’t need you to do this.”

“Well, I’m sorry, father. But, as I’m responsible for you until Mom gets home, you’ll simply have to do as I say.”

Emboldened by designs of her own, Ashley dragged the soapy washrag up and down the various components of her dad’s nude, partially-submerged body, making sure to cleanse all the oils and grime from every fold and crease in the man’s youthful teenaged frame. She started with his back. In adulthood, it had been slightly pocked and weathered with age, with just the wispiest of fields of hair arcing upwards towards Maxwell’s neck like prostrate worshipers. But now that he was a young teenager again, Maxwell’s back was bare and milky, bifurcated by the raised vertebrae of the spine, delineating the lanky child’s skin with conspicuous ripples of bone.

Ashley took her time with her father’s arms and legs. She wanted to be patient, to nurture and exacerbate the ever-increasing bubble of embarrassment and uncertainty she correctly fancied Maxwell to be developing in his gut. The boy remained silent, but blushing all the while; to have his teenaged daughter’s limber, probing fingers sliding artfully all over his naked body was a fantasy of which some fathers only dreamed and even fewer would cop to having.

The mantra running through Maxwell Simon’s mind was majestic in its simplicity.

PLEASE don’t get an erection. PLEASE don’t get an erection. PLEASE don’t get an erection.

The more he thought about it -- the more he willed his little kid’s tool to remain limp and unspectacular beneath the surface of the bathwater -- the more difficult Maxwell found the task. His teenaged hormones were raging and his balls were boiling with young sperm. And there was his daughter, fully developed and, all her life, quite the precocious beauty, openly and dutifully exploring his pubescent, horny body...

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How Travis seemed to know this innately, he was unsure. It was unlikely he knew what nootropic drugs were, let alone the fact that their brain-boosting properties were a part of the cocktail inundating the water supply. But the fact remained that the teenager was able to complete a professional-grade diapering job on his formerly recalcitrant instructor, and Mr. Richmond seemed more pleased than ever to be taped up into his baby pants and nursing on a pacifier. The man’s cock pulsed reflexively, desperate to get off a load-- but remained within control.

The same could not be said for Travis’s. In the same idiom as his twin brother, he gasped, grunted, and fell over, breathing “Uhh! UHH! UHH!!” as his erection blew a sticky load of spunk into his school-mandated slacks.

Jim Richmond found himself becoming increasingly frustrated at his lack of release, especially in light of his students, who seemed to be cumming in vast swaths through no effort of their own. Three boys had fallen out of their desks and onto the floor, white, salty stains spreading across the crotches of their pants as their penises twitched out gobs of semen above and beyond any orgasm they could recall.

Mr. Richmond needed more! Still more pleasure. Still more humiliation!

“Lance! Victor!” he called out, spitting his pacifier from his drooling lips long enough to clamber and crinkle to a standing position. Every brush of his hard cock against the lubricated inside of his diaper was pure agony. “Get up here and wet my diaper!”

The two teens didn’t miss a beat. They launched out of their chairs, rushed to the front of the room, and sandwiched Mr. Richmond in between them-- Victor, an assiduous Latino boy, staring the teacher face-to-face, Lance having to settle for a view of the back of the 22-year-old’s neck. They unzipped their flies, wormed their limp dicks out of their underwear, tucked them down inside the waistband of the teacher’s diaper, and exhaled.

Mr. Richmond bit his lip and sighed in ecstasy as he felt two streams of urine -- one coating his ass cheeks and dripping down his crack, the other rinsing down his throbbing shaft and boiling balls -- begin to fill out the absorbent polymers of his diaper and add a new weight to the infantile badge of shame. The experience of being so intimately close with these young men, of accepting their offerings of piss into his own diaper, was so outrageously wild for the teacher that he temporarily forgot himself and pressed his lips to Victor’s, sliding his tongue along that of the teenager and exploring his mouth in a moment of unbridled lust.

Of course, neither of them were actually gay. But the combined effects of the aphrodisiacs, erectile dysfunction pills, and even hypnotics and painkillers that had leeched into the water supply were taking their toll. Their maddeningly sexy toll.

So Victor kissed back.

Unfortunately for Lance and Victor, however, the cocktail of drugs in their system had taken on a theretofore-unseen transformative bent. And, as the seconds went on, as their bladders drained, and as Richmond’s diaper filled, the boys recognized, to their horror, that they were pissing away the emotional maturity and mental acuity they had accrued over the course of the past decade and a half. They were literally peeing out their intelligence.

Jim was the first to notice-- when he broke the kiss in which he was embroiled and saw the glassy, infantile look of stupidity and bliss flood into Victor’s eyes.

Victor, for his part, simply blinked, and giggled.

He pulled his penis out of Mr. Richmond’s diaper, laughed out loud in sheer, babyish joy, and sprayed the remainder of his bladder’s contents all over the man’s legs, all over the floor. He fell hard onto his bottom, shoved his thumb into his mouth, and started to suck.

“Blah bah gaa gaa goo goo!” came a young man’s voice-- but it wasn’t Victor’s. It was that of Lance, who had also extricated his dick from its place nestled up against Jim’s ass and fallen over onto the ground, giggling uncontrollably as his twitching genitals spewed urine in warm, weakening arcs onto his shirt and into his mouth.

Victor had already finished, and had taken his shoes and socks off so that he could try and cram his stinking toes between his lips. He was having a bit of difficulty, and the rest of the class gaped in awe as the 18-year-old boy screwed up his face and began sobbing, bawling.

“Waaa-aaah-ahhh!!”

Lance felt bad for his friend-- so, when he was done voiding himself and swallowing the few droplets that had landed in his wildly-giggling profile, he crawled over to Victor, took the Latino boy’s toes, and shoved them into his own mouth, sucking deeply.

Both boys’ eyes rolled back. Victor immediately stopped crying.

They would have that relationship for the rest of their lives.

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Destiny caressed Victoria’s lips... the ones that were moist with excitement, not saliva. Gentle touches of a baby-soft hand on clean and hairless spots of opportunity, teasing the girl’s clit, making her leak, causing the baby powder Destiny was massaging into her folds to turn into a type of creamy paste. Always massaging, always gentle, causing the girl to moan and squirm and rub her nipples and bite down on her tongue with her lips.

“Oh, god,” Victoria breathed. “This is ecstasy.”

Destiny giggled. “You know it.”

“Hunngh...”-- a murmur of intense pleasure, signifying nothing more.

Destiny lifted the double-thick disposable diaper up between her girlfriend’s thighs and held it to her belly, taping each side in sequence and tucking the leg bands such that the only thing that would be exuding from Victoria’s diaper would be the horny vitality of a twitching, orgasmic young cunt.

Destiny lifted the slender and limber Victoria into her lap, even as she sat splayed on the floor; though they had done this before, the former could not remember the action being as easy as it was prior to that moment.

“I’m hungry, Momma,” Vicky whined, her playful smile undeniable.

“Then you best nurse, baby girl,” Destiny replied, undoing her shirt and unsnapping her bra. “We don’t want you to grow up to be a scrawny, frail little thing, now would we?”

Victoria moved her lips to her girlfriend’s engorged nipple and latched on. She suckled, engaging in a deeply intimate and now somewhat alien moment as she realized that warm, wholesome milk was indeed squirting over her tongue, washing down her velvety muscle.

“Mmmm,” came the feminine voice. It could have been coming from either one of them. It was, indeed, coming from both of them.

“Mommy, she likes it when you nurse from her titty,” cooed Destiny, looking down at her girlfriend and smiling as the young woman, now just a delicate, pallid teenager, winked and breathed out her nose as jets of warm, milky essence jetted into her cavernous mouth and dripped down into her tummy.

“Uhhnnggh...” droned Destiny, her toes curling atop the surfaces of her sandals, as her pussy leaked juices into her panties and she squirmed and tingled with orgasm. “That’s it. You suckle from Mommy, now. Drink it all down. All, like a good baby girl.”

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thank you for reading...

...thank you for everything...

...and STAY YOUNG!

(C)2013-4 little trip

orders, comments, just to chat

littletrip at live dot com

IRC: littletrip on SorceryNet

 

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