A word from Chaser:
I am gonna get you, you jerks! The ones that are taking pleasure in my capture! I’m coming for you next!! I Don’t know how, or when, but I promise my payback’s gonna be sweeter than BBQd BBQ bones!!!
Ahem……. Sorry, I popped in on visitor’s hour and had a word with Chaser. She doesn’t seem all that happy.
Welcome back friends, to the continuation of Chaser’s Mix Up.
If you’re just joining us… Well, I guess you can start here… But I don’t see why You’d start with the sequel… Unless you’re Me. That’s a very “me” thing to do. (Long lost twin?!)
If you’re still reading this, you have a general idea of the roller-coaster, action-filled, abdl bit of barely controlled chaos that awaits in the following.
I apologize for the late time of this post. (I had about 6 pages written hours ago, but didn’t like the flow so I scrapped it)
Chaser’s Mix Up Redux is still in the works before I place it into the completed stories section, so please bear with me.
One last word of apology, I didn’t get as much time to proof-read this (I’ll go back again tomorrow) So I apologize if the quality suffers.
Sa’ll this guy has. Enjoy.
Prologue: “Breaking Mad”
The little girl looked up at the top of the hill. Around her, the usual dust and dirt of the wastes had turned into slick mud from the recent rains.
Though she was fourteen, she was much smaller than any girl her age. They made fun of her for her height. They made fun of her because she was wheelchair bound. Above all, they taunted her because of her accidents.
The kids at the top of the hill looked down at her, waving her bandanna.
“Come on up and get it!” they taunted.
She grunted, trying to get her wheelchair to move, but the thick mud made it impossible.
“What’s wrong? Can’t move??? All you have to do is stand and come on up!!”
Tears streamed down the girl’s face, and her ears drooped.
There was no getting out of the slick mud she had gotten herself stuck in. To make matters worse, she now had to pee.
She didn’t want to have another accident in front of all the kids again.
The orphanage was understaffed on the best of days. Most people with kind hearts didn’t last too long in the wastes.
They were usually killed for their supplies, or taken to the Mistress.
So medical necessities for disabled girls like May weren’t common place.
Though she could have fit in diapers meant for children much younger than her, none were ever on hand.
So she would often have accidents in her pretty clothes. Which were the only nice things she owned. No memory of where they came from, but her few dresses and her bandanna were all the possessions she had in the world.
Sometimes May would scrounge up posters from action movies…. Her little corner in the orphanage was decorated with a poster from the movie “Aliens” and another one from “Escape from New York”.
May had no idea what “New York” was, but the place in the poster reminded her of the wastes.
And she could think of nothing more she wanted than to escape from where she was.
She squirmed, unable to stand up to get her chair out of the mud.
She tried hopping her chair out, but the small girl’s attempts to even lift the chair were unsuccessful.
On top of the hill A boy gave Pretty Nina the bandanna as though it were a gift. Like it made no difference where it came.
Nina tied the bandanna into a bow and wore it in her hair.
“Just come and take it, dummy.” She taunted, glaring down at the cat girl who was desperately trying not to wet herself.
Tears streamed down May’s face, and as her bladder let go she opened her eyes.
May was still wearing her frilled dress. It almost looked like some Lolita fashion.
“Sissy Little May.” That’s what the damned Head Nurse had taken to calling her.
There was nothing about this situation that Chaser liked. She had been stripped of the clothes that she felt defined her identity.
The Head Nurse had an unhealthy infatuation with her and took it upon herself to breastfeed May at every possible opportunity.
May looked down. She was still tightly bound with Faerie silk. The warmth in her groin told her that she hadn’t just wet her pants in her dream. Her stomach rumbled, and she looked down.
While Chaser couldn’t see her belly to tell just how swollen it was, May had just spent the last two hours getting pumped full of milk by said nurse. Her stomach felt full to bursting, but still the nurse made her suckle.
Constant growling in her stomach, coupled with waves of cramps announced that she would soon need to do more than just wet her diapers.
May squirmed desperately, making the spider faerie that wouldn’t leave her side giggle to herself.
“It’s pointless Sissy Little May,” she said. “Just make a big mess in your pampers and Nursi will come and change you. Maybe she’ll even give you more milk!”
“Fuck you!” Chaser exclaimed. “You’re not even a fucking foot tall! Don’t you talk to me that way!!”
She struggled against the cocooning bonds, making her frilly dress rustle and her very wet diapers crinkle.
The Faerie giggled again. “You know, I can help you if you don’t want to go, Little May.”
“Noo!” May shrieked, “Stay away from me! Take it back! Take it back, you damn tiny hell beast!”
To Chaser’s annoyance, the Faerie giggled again “Alright… But at least if I did it, you could tell Nursi that. She’ll just make you nurse more when she sees what a baby you are.”
May growled, and flailed helplessly against the Faerie silk. “If I ever get outta this I’m gonna eat you!”
The Faerie smiled cheerfully at May “You can still eat me, tied up just like you are right there!”
Chaser groaned as another wave of cramps rocked her small frame.
The Faerie grabbed one of the strands of silk around May’s waist and pulled. The bonds tightened around her stomach, causing poor May to groan as the new pressure easily overwhelmed her milk-filled tummy.
“K-kill you.” She shuddered, as she finally gave in and filled her diapers.
The mess spread through her diapers, but didn’t sag thanks to the omutsu cover keeping everything in place.
Chaser squirmed, as her humiliation reached a new height when the smell of what she had done hit her nose.
Once again, she hung her head to try to hide as much of her shame as she could.
“Go ahead and call the nurse…” Chaser sniffled. “I….I really need to be changed.”
The faerie giggled again. Chaser had no idea what an Orgy of opera singers would sound like if they suddenly had a punch of active chainsaws dropped on them, but she decided that it would be more pleasant than this damn faerie’s giggling.
“Sorry, Little May… But changing time isn’t til’ morning. Don’t worry though. I’ll help you go to sleep though!”
May was about to try to attack the faerie when her body suddenly seized as multiple orgasms rocked her body.
Her vision blurred, and she had a difficult time catching her breath.
As she blacked out, she heard the Mistress laughing with the faerie that was baby-sitting her.
From somewhere behind her, a gentle voice got her attention.
“Excuse me young miss, but do you need some help?”
May tried to turn around, but her stuck wheelchair narrowed her view.
Before she could answer, she was scooped up into one of his arms, and with his free arm he got her wheel chair unstuck from the mud.
He looked vastly different from any man she saw traversing the wastes. He wore a tailored suit of black cashmere, as opposed to the usual leather or denim attire the wasters wore.
His jacket covered a well-fitted white button up shirt. On his head he wore a wide brimmed hat.
Above his breast pocket, a golden brooch shone brightly in what little morning sun had dared to peek from behind the clouds. To May it almost looked like a compass, but with arrows pointing in all directions instead of just north.
The smile on his face was sincere. “Let’s get you cleaned up.” The Kindly man spoke. “Then we’ll get you sorted out in a good way? How does that sound, young dear?”
May nodded her head and sniffled before burying her face into his chest and cried. He set his briefcase down in the girl’s wheelchair, and pulled it behind him as he headed towards the run-down building that acted as a semi-functional orphanage to the children of the wastes.
The briefcase was new polished leather. Looking on from the top of the case, a Cthulhu buckle stared up at the world.
23:49 (That’s 11:49 pm for you civie types)
Driver stepped out of the freshly repaired No-Mercy ambulance. Even though it was night, he still wore his sunglasses anyway. Shotgun, Lizzy and TC were strictly told to stay in the van til’ he got the gurney with Chaser.
“Don’t want to risk losing any more of my team. So ya just stay put and I’ll handle this.”
His stride was long and quick as he approached the standing Orderly-guard.
The hulking guard looked to weigh about 350 pounds of solid muscle, as all of them did. They were essentially golems born for the singular purpose of intimidation. And to occasionally battle off wasters that were trying to break in and free captives.
His labcoat flowed behind him like a superhero cape as he drew close.
His slippers silenced his footfalls, and the navy blue sweatpants he opted to wear tonight erased any doctorly (or heroic) illusion that may have existed. That is until you got to Driver’s specialty trademark. A plaid shirt. I’m writing this, and even I’m not 100% sure he OWNS a shirt that isn’t plaid.
The orderly took a step forward, as if to bar the old man’s way, but Driver simply gave the guard a come here motion, and the gaurd flew towards him as though an invisible gorilla had drop kicked him from behind.
If “surprised” is an accurate way to describe the guard’s face when he suddenly flew towards the old man at an alarming rate, I suppose “shock” would also be a sufficient way to describe his demeanor when Driver suddenly held up a hand stop, and the guard stopped where he was.
“Listen here, ya stinkin’ ape.” Driver said pulling a lit cigar from his breast pocket and inhaling deeply.
Driver held his breath for a moment, then exhaled a blue plume of smoke into the guard’s face.
“Ya go on and tell yer queen-bitch that I’m here for my girl. She’ll know who I am and who I mean.”
With that, Driver motioned again walk away. and the guard went flying into the side of the fence.
The guard shook his head, trying to regain his bearing, and quickly ran off to the phone.
Minutes later the main gate opened up and out glided the Mistress of Care.
Her beauty was ethereal, as always. She glowed in the pale moonlight, and seemed even more radiant than she had a few days prior.
“Driver!” She exclaimed excitedly. “It’s so good to see you, even if you’re as disrespectful as ever.”
The old man exhaled, but this time instead of smoke, a small burst of flame exited his mouth.
“Be sure ya excuse me, Ma’dam. I tend to get a bit of heart burn when I’m around the biggest bitch this side of the planet.”
The Mistress shot him a glare that could have blinded mole rat.
“Well, then I will be pleased to give you this bit of news,” She shot at him, her words as toxic as nightshade.
“I have grown ever so fond of Sissy Little May, I’ve decided to give her a free extended stay.”
Driver scowled from behind his ridiculous aviator sunglasses. “Yer breaking a deal with me?” He said, raising an eyebrow.
“And just how long are you thinking my girl is gonna be here?”
Mistress smiled, a grin no less dangerous than her words sounded.
“Indefinite. She’s simply too precious.”
Shaking his head, Driver placed his (still lit) Cigar back into his breast pocket.
He threw his sunglasses on the ground between him and the Mistress and grimaced as he cracked his back.
“Then tonight,” He said, his scowl unchanging. “I come outta retirement.”
The Mistress laughed as Driver turned and strode back to the ambulance.
“You’re just a sad old man!” She called after him. “She’ll rot in my clinic for all eternity!”
The sirens turned on, and the load speaker began to broadcast Fever Ray’s “If I had a heart.”
Shotgun looked up as Driver slammed the door. The two girls in the back peered into the main cab, curiosity on their face.
“How’d things go, old timer? They bringing out chaser?” Shotgun asked, half of braids falling onto his face.
Driver pulled his Cigar out of his pocket, along with a new pair of sunglasses.
He put on the sunglasses and held the cigar between his teeth.
He growled as he asked, and his question made shotgun’s hair stand on end.
“Ya ready to see what I did before I retired?”
To be continued….