After The Celestial Father

There are many reasons you might pet a cat, but few reasons you might pet a woman. Unfortunately, I was the lucky bitch to find out just because she calls herself a cat girl, doesn't mean she's really a cat. She swatted my hand out of the way, and growled at me unleashing her claws. Her long blond curly locks, were almost as white as her ankle socks. Her belly popped out of her age play shirt. Nothing like putting a cat girl in a pair of diapers.

She got on her belly over my knees, and she clawed the bed requested for me to paddle her bottom. Instead of merely petted her long curly blond locks, that were dark enough to almost be called light brown. Then she rolled onto her back, and continued to be over my knee. "I want some marshmallows." she said. There hadn't been any marshmallow cream since much earlier in the century. I don't understand how she'd crave any of the corn fluff sugary garbage.

"Bombs away, into your mouth." I said, the gently popped a marshmallow into her mouth. "Now if you want me to read you a bed time story, you got to be a very good girl for 'pappa'."

Chelsy loved it when I referred to myself as pappa, even though I've had my gender changed for over a year. She loved how I tended to spoil her, and yet in actuality marshmallows was all she was willing to eat. I was beginning to grow concerned. "Tomorrow in your psychiatric appointment. You'll need to get to bed early, so you can be fully awake in the office."

She also liked the idea of being playing as her concerned parent, but at twenty three years old you're already to old to have bed times. But I was a poet, and didn't mind reading my nursery rhymes. Don't let her five foot three height full you, or her large puffy cheeks. If you kiss her on the wrong afternoon she'll chew you out for the next following week out of the year.

I sent her off to bed in the next room, and then continued to type on my keyboard after I read her her bedtime story. I had grown the habit of keeping a diary of my romantic affiliations, even though I am still unused to the idea of me dating anyone. It had been so long I went without really dating anyone, I'm not even sure how I would react to the idea of anyone loving me. But there was always a place in the house for young women that liked role playing.

The next morning, I gave her fifty dollars to reload her bus card. But Chelsy didn't want to leave. "Make me leave."

So I paddled her diaper, and she rolled up her jeans. She walked out of the place wearing her leather buckle clogs. "You can always come again next month." In order to make a little money on the side for my disability, I created an age play office. It was technically not therapy. And women according to our society tended to not rent out other women. Otherwise that would be prostitution.

But the girls were always great about tips.

After I spent time giving them tips, when they rolled their tongue down my belly, and made my whole body pulsate from sucking on my lady cock. That was simply a bonus. A bonus on the side for splinter cult investigation.

But splinter cult investigation was my main job.

The following night I found a news paper about a new cult startup, this was called the age play cult. It was a groupie of multiple ladies that liked having their diapers pulled down and be paddled. I assumed this was merely a regular kink club, and made an appointment to meet with the priest. And so that was how I shall spend of my days this week, having my bare bottom spanked like I was still in school.

Only it didn't work out like that. What seemed like a kink club, was ran by the guy that thought of himself as a chimeric twin. His idea was to have people be paddled by him, until he was able to be the chimera out of their butts. And so as it turned out, Chelsy got involved in this cult. She wasn't entirely happy to see me, but removed her jeans and diaper in order to be smacked.

"How did you get involved in this?" I asked.

"I didn't want you to know." she said.

"You don't need to be here. Let's go."

I called the cops for them have an investigation, and they apprehended the guy without a fight. But my little Chelsy gets a free ride for now on, and she uses her Jesus sandals to play with my shaft.

She lets me pet the girl now.

I was riding with my friends in a car, careful not to upset the cop that had just gotten off of work in the next car over, who was carrying home a family of poodles and a cat, along with a black colored lamb. Both of us had the windows open, which allowed us to flirt with the cop ladies. While I was doting on the poodle who peeked out the window specifically to see me. There wasn't any traffic at the time, so we could take as much time as we needed. Unfortunately they didn't notice how their owl colored cat hopped into our car. So we carefully followed them home, without them noticing. I knocked on their door, as the friends disposable friend, and I handed them back their cat.

The head of the family was in fact a computer scientist, and it was his graduated daughter and his wife that were cops, the daughter being trained as part of a family line of cops. The lamb was happy to see me, so I picked it up, pet it, and kissed it on the forehead. "And who is that little guy?" I asked.

"That's are baby lamb named peaches." the family head said.

Peaches! Peaches! Peaches! Some peaches are good, some peaches are awful. But what an absolutely precious name, the name peaches. The grandparents came out to visit, all four grandparents, and they were dressed as pilgrims. The whole family beside the head, which was suppose to be the real world intermediary, was largely dressed in black as pilgrims.

"Don't get used to having that lamb around, she'll be dinner soon." he said.

"You would eat a poor baby lamb?"

"Family has to eat somehow, veggies get expensive."

"Then why did you name it?"

"It allows us to become closer with it when we slaughter it, so my daughter can learn what it's like to lovingly kill it."

So we went away from the house, with the family obviously giving us the creeps. But I kept having it on the back of my mind that the family sounded vaguely cult like. As it turns out the family, although the cops would try to shush it up at times, were notoriously for purchasing live lambs from the farm, slaughtering it there, and having lamb pie the following evening.

So I went to go investigate, first setting up an appointment.

When I arrived at the house, I met with the man. Then I had dinner with him, they seemed like a mostly normal family, except that had peculiar religious scriptures at the table. By this point I had grown the skill in tolerating listening to religion from my previous experience as a spy against the cult of the Celestial Father.

And then in their scriptures, they were taught to slaughter the innocent live livestock. I left the house to visit my own friends to get some shut eye, and was followed by the girl who had told me she no longer had any desire to be a cop. "Why don't you want to be a cop?" I asked.

"I always wanted to be a prostitute." she said.

"Why do that when you can have sex with me for free. Besides did you know that I was a prostitute at one point."

"Didn't you earn a lot of money?"

"Nope, it was more of an art form. Specifically tailored to age play scenarios. You should try that art form yourself if you are into that."

I poked her nose, and left that night.

I heard that the family was apprehended for animal cruelty, but the the girl was considered a victim in the scenario and let off of the hook. She came to visit me on her eighteen birthday, about a year since I had met that cult.

"I thought I'd try some age play." she said.

"For your first time, it's free of charge."

"And if I want to come back inside?"

"We I operating on an organic sliding scale."

I introduced her to Chelsy, who had come to be a long term resident. And they bonded very quickly together.

I know who two bed mates. That's how I look at it.

From my understanding, the rest of the family were sent to a special prison. It locked based on a computer system that assumed every entrance inside was bedtime. It was a motel like room similar to the one I stay in now, except the inability to leave. But they were free to come and go within the rest of the facility provided they were back in their cell by eleven o'clock and they needed to go shopping within at normal business hours.

I picture the wife in the women's prison making vodka pot brownies with her friends, and exchanging instant messages across the different cells. She had learned hyper encryption to prevent reading of the messages by the generally lax guards. For the prison system would grow very lax over the next few decades, and we were seeing the beginning of the end of the prison industrial complex.

So I thought, maybe she could meet for an age play. Then I thought better of, the black haired girl would feel unnecessary triggers for what was possibly an abusive mother. I would have just sent them all besides their daughter to life in prison.

But maybe that's why I'm called communist. I believe in state non conversion therapy. They could still get it in the time they are there, though I'd wonder how effective it is. But my new friend wont have to worry about her anymore.

Just like I hope I never will worry about the Celestial Father.


Fairy Dust



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