Cupcake ValhallaPurgatoryProspectsSummary:
A confused little lesbian is reconditioned into a misogynistic breeding pet. A cartoonish, sordid melange of dark fantasy. Exploitative POV.
Notes:
This utterly fictional story is entirely imagined as animation. This story has a redundancy of repetitive themes akin to brainwashing in a society that's simply a patriarchal playground. Heavy themes of fetishized male superiority, lesbian retraining kinks, and unfair/humiliation taboos. If any of these themes offend please disengage now. Thanks for reading.
Work Text:
Cupcake Valhalla
By Duane O'Day
Your name is Maeve Holiday. When people say American jailbait, they mean you. When that one girl is dismissed from school dances for excessive twerk-grinding, that's you. The girl who wanted g-strings for her 9th birthday. The girl who got her period and ruined a white g-string she wasn't supposed to have. The girl who found what was under Mommy's sweaters in her intimacy drawer. Looked like Jurassic Park.
Three years later you're a drastically overdeveloped little girl. As much as internet websites have groomed your young brain to perform servile sex acts, even at 12 you'd say the male population has done their job.
They leer at your young flesh. The way they treat you varies. They sure like you when you give lots of long hugs and flirt a little. You lie and say you've never had a boyfriend to an old man at a bus stop. He says it's the best news he's heard all day. He means you're slick, wet little squishy. You are their taboo, the ripe forbidden fruit. You always want to be pretty and favored by the men. You're dependent on them to stop other men from raping you. This old bus stop man looks like if it were midnight he'd fuck you in the shadows.
He says it's the best news he's heard all day. He smiles unevenly and appraises you physically. You like it when the dirty old men pay attention to you.
You venture into the world, skipping in a pair of transparent yoga-tights and a cropped, airy maroon sweater around your frilly pink bra. You pull your neon pink g-string up over the waist of the cream white yoga-pants. You're a petite girl with swaying C-cup breasts that occupy your whole chest. You wear sneakers to school because your other footwear isn't movement friendly but rather salacious heels. Once at school your footwear changes to glossy heels a pornstar would cherish.
You click to your clique of catty overdeveloped friends. Soft kisses and cheek to cheek selfies. Despite your tawdry, ass-shaking hottie habits, the men know what you are. They stare. They dream of raping it raw. But they just pussy out and stand down when you approach and suggest a meeting or phone hijinks. Their brains actually thwart their bulges. But you're horny and want a filthy old pervert cock.
You've had this desire for a while and you're tired of going to sleep unsatisfied. Because they stare but won't push the boundaries and commit. Men and boys alike, right? You dress like an absolute whore every day waiting for some filthy fuck to roll up in a black van and get on with it. Your lowly American trailer trash, no receipts for suffering. You know you'll end up an adult performer. Maybe a stripper, you're one of the best twerkers at your middle school. The bad men in the black men can pull you inside and begin training you as a slave for depraved predators. They'll put you in your place.
An idea forms in your bubbly brain.
Mommy reads to you that night. Your brain was affected by the society's reaction programming propaganda and airwaves. You're not just a dumb blonde in all remedial classes, you're a brain-warped airhead. You breathe through your puckered slick lips like a goldfish. Books has never read good you. But that's just brains. You've got a delicious body. Tanned and supple, dangling pink capped breasts with teensy, star shaped little girl nipples. Your hair is up in playful braided buns. 'Mommy …' you interrupt her reading and know she'll lose her place and have to pick another picture book. Mommy's like you. Uneducated and stuffed with multiple pregnancies. She only learned to read because of malicious porn captions. She's a thick built redhead in a form fitting tee-shirt that's so taught around her engorged udders the red caps look like roses through the tee. She's wearing a g-string. 'Mommy I think I'm a lesbian.' I say it plain. Mommy's face is flummoxed. She stares at you and puts the book away. It was giving her a headache. You're wearing an undersized, ecru fleece onesie. Its body defining and infantile, a completely vulgar temptation sleepy suit. Snap-trap bottom bulges like a swollen dam trying to contain your dropped, voluptuous ass.
She pulls the covers over both of you and then hugs your doll sized body to her heavy, fleshy chest-balloons. She's concerned for your and probably has the blankets up to thwart the government's spying devices. There are no lesbians in this misogynistic nirvana. Girl on girl contact is limited legally to only for the entertainment of men and practicing together with a video recording to pursue in being entertainment for men.
'Oh my Baby Maeven,' your double-chinned sow-Mommy warbles. She's extremely concerned. You forgot how gullible Mommy is. She's not only fallen for it but insistently grinds her breast against your face. Her bubblegum nipples are hard and tickle your eyelids.
She pulls up her tee-shirt and pulls you close. You suckle her deliciously bloated nipple. Your small fingers drag down her vein splintered meat-sacks. Her nipple splurts warm milk onto your tongue and you swallow eagerly. Mommy's fruity vigor. She must be trying to satisfy your dyke needs so nobody outdoors ever needs to know. For Mommy that's a complex plan.
Mommy's brain is so slow … your brain is suckling and breastfeeding. The cream dapples your tongue. You are smarter than …
Your body convulses and your eyes look up at Mommy. Her milk is dumbing you down but you can't stop suckling. Your mouth activates and your brain takes sabbatical.
Maeve suckles and grinds, riding on Mommy's thigh. Your g-string is inside your molten honeypot. You can't stop swallowing mind numbing milkies. You remember that whenever you've had a tantrum or fit Mommy always breastfeeds you to calm you down. It's how Daddy does it too but he uses his thumb to holds down your tongue and fondles your gums.
Your gurgle thinking about your Daddy. The penis that created you. Your pussy is a soppy puddle slobbering feverishly on Mommy's thigh as you wickedly hump and gurgle like a lemming. Opaque milky fluid dribbles down your chin.
'Baby you can't be a lesbian. Girls your age only turn because they haven't had cock.'
Duh … you know you're not a lesbian. But you know in your world Daddy has first dibs. He's not wanted to stretch you apart but you figure, with the lesbian proclivity, he might train you young.
But your brain dims like a fading light bulb as your lips glue onto Mommy milk glands. You fall asleep sipping her teat like an infant. You dream of suckling with your whole body, especially the velvety-sticky tight hole between your thighs—as Mommy drips into your mouth. Your brain melts away in the frothy wet-dream buttermilk as you wet all over Mommy's flabby thigh. You Mr tiny fingers clutch at her titty and you feed to sleep again.
You're awakened by the feeling of a warm, throbbing meat post gliding up against your fleece onesie. Daddy's so fucking huge against your little cabbage headed body. He puts it between your legs and it's like an iron horsie to bounce on. You're still suckling on Mommy although she's asleep. A passive witness as your naked, muscular father creeps into bed with you. She snores and drool flows down her chins. Your little soft hands slap against his belly and thighs. Naked Daddy in bed has been a dream and nightmare for you for years.
He puts a hand around your neck and pries your ravenous leeching lips off Mommy's plump breast. He pops an oversized clownish binky between your wet, mewling lips. You suck the bulbous head, larger than your Mommy's nipple. It causes your throat to relax and open, anticipating the bulbous pecker will throat you. As your brain is programmed to throat man cock. He pushes your face into Mommy's doughy breasts and you suffocate in an ocean of flesh.
Daddy pulls down your onesie trapdoor. Your sculpted preteen ass drops out like white watermelons. The warm air between your bodies rises the peachy invisible hairs on your lower back and buttocks. His cock tip against your dripping petals feels like hot froth on a cupcake.
Daddy teases it against your needy hole. You grind the tip like a desperate stripper. He pulls your face out of Mommy's colossal breasts by your neck. Your hands slap back desperately against his chubby, incest fueled body.
'Daddy this was a game, I don't, that won't fit in my little hole,' you mumble drunkenly as the oversized binky gags you.
His clench on your neck tightens and you piss all over his dick. Your body shudders. Daddy gropes your stupendously floppy breasts through the fleece onesie. You suckle the binky frantically. Your body has been trained to accept a wolfish Daddy's early sexual advances. Your desperate frothy cunt smears cream against his cockhead but he holds your begging body by the neck and tits.
As you suck and his constrictive fingers bruise your thin neck your vagina bursts with an excited sloppy glob of juice. It trickles into Daddy's massive piss-hole, the thimble like depth overflows with juice.
He pinches your nipples like a madman. You circle your hips like an abject whore. You stare at your Mommy and her leaking, pallid whoppers. She has all those sordid horse and knot dildos to stay train-gaped for Daddy's cupcake headed girth. You mewl through the binky. You want Daddy balls deep and raw.
Your brain hits the wall. Your lips sputter around the cherry red binky as Daddy glides inch by inch through your buttery resistance. His cock kinks as you eject it with a gossamer geyser of squirt. You realize he's not even completely hard as he laughs at your hollow victory. He ruts you sharply, little helpless body jostling like a marionette as he roughly bottoms out inside your spongy, cum hungry cervix.
You'll be Daddy's cum dump. His breeder. Chattel for his insane, belligerent cupcake cock. You think of pressing against a slutty friends' cheeks and draping out our pink tongues. Whore selfie. They feel good against you but Daddy's cock proves you proclivity. You stripper twerk helplessly on his girth. He bangs you with intentions to bruise your pelvis. His giant body hammers you into a drooling whore. You mouth suckles binky. You jizzum splattered hole breaks in frothy, body crippling orgasms. Your lonesome, thick lipped starfish anus puckers eagerly. He's too deep to pull out. Your mind flickers as splashing man pudding fills your squeaky tight hole. He seals his essence inside your swelling honeypot with the binky from my mouth. He suppresses my tongue with his dense pickle thumb as you cum yourself shamelessly.
He's choked you and fucked you after sneaking in after story time. That sounds so familiar. If only you could remember.