So this morning I was hanging out on the podcast slack, in a special channel we have there called Pornucopia.  Hint, it's not for trading meatloaf recipes.

Anyhow, my friend Sinclair posted this crazy hot drawing by an artist called Rocket Manatee.  It gave me a great idea.  I told them I wanted to do some riffing.  Riffing is a form of writing practice, for me.  What I do is interview someone about what's currently floating on the top of their erotic consciousness.  They tell me ideas, scenes, words, images, sounds, anything and everything that's making them get all hot and bothered deep inside their brain boudoir.

This time we also had the piece of art for our visual referent.  Good stuff!

The picture was off an adult baby girl, buckled securely into her carseat.  Cuffed to it, in fact.  She's got in a pacifier gag, and you can tell from the look in her Mommy's eyes in the rearview mirror, and the bag of "disciplinary" shopping items on the back seat that someone is in trouble.

Anyhow, the way the riffing process works is that the someone I'm interviewing tells me enough detail about what's getting them hot that at a certain point I sort of tip over and have enough to write a 500 word story right on the spot.  BAM!

As we were discussing it, Spacey, and our friend Masochista joined us, and got in on the fun.  I took all their hot buttons, this lovely art and got writing.

The story I wrote just rolled right on out of me.  It was great.  I'm grateful for the whole experience.  Here, I'll share it with you.

Abigail's Attitude

Mommy was looking at her again, Abigail just knew it.


She couldn't see it. Her big car seat faced backwards, like any car seat should, even for a big little girl like her.


But Abigail had pulled, or tried to pull her hands away from her body. This was a useless thing to do because of the purple leather cuffs at her wrists, which were conveniently attached to the clever little rings on the buckle harness of her car seat.


They kept her arms bent up at the elbow, which was pretty uncomfortable, unless she spread her legs so she could rest them on her knees.


All moving her arms did was make sounds: the leather creaked, the rings jingled, her diaper crinkled as the straps shifted in a useless and entirely way too frustrating way.


She sighed through the pacifier gag that was strapped around and into her mouth.


"Abigail, settle. I don't want to hear another sound out of you, young lady."


She bit down hard on the pacifier, silently fuming at herself, and at Mommy, too.


It wasn't fair.


They were supposed to go to the aquarium today. They had manatees at the aquarium. Manatees! They were Abigail's favorite!


She had woken up all excited to go. Mommy had been excited too. But then she had stripped off Abigail's pajamas, and pulled down her training pants, and seen that Abigail had had an accident over night.


It wasn't a very big accident. But it was one of those accidents. Her training pants had stains in them, both in the front and in the back too.


Abigail blushed hotly remembering this.


"Abigail honey, we put you on the potty right before bed, and you sat there for a long time! Why did you go pee and... "


"No, be quiet Mommy, don't say it!"


Mommy's face had grown hard. She didn't like being interrupted, and most certainly didn't like being told to be quiet.


"and poop in your training pants! "


Abigail's lip had trembled.


"There's no way you can wear training pants to the aquarium today, honey."


"No!" Abigail had wailed. "I don't want to wear diapers. Diapers are stupid and for babies! You're a big meaniehead!"


This was just the wrong thing to say.


Mommy had grown very quiet, and had indeed put Abigail in a diaper, and plastic pants, her purple onesie, and matching booties with pink socks. Then she had picked Abigail up, and carried her to the car. Mommy didn't carry Abigail a lot, but she was very strong, and when she was mad, she could do it easily.


"A-are w-we going to the aquarium?" she had asked.


Mommy shook her head no.


Then they had gone to that store. Abigail hated that store. That was where Mommy had bought her paddle.


Today she bought some new things. The woman at the store had said one of the things would help Abigail with her bottom.


Abigail cried just thinking about it.


They were almost home.

AuthorMako Allen