Alright, new story from me. This one is on the lighter side of the fluff, with the chapters being fairly short. I’m basically writing this one on the side and I need to get this concept out of my head, too. Imma attempt to get a lot of fetish content into it along the road, hopefully not to the detriment of the experience. If you wanna know what this is about:
Something Vile is a roadtrip story about two women who start their journey in arizona and drive northwards with the goal of simply not being caught. They thieve, they scam, they lie and attempt to get mixed up in all sorts of mischevious behavior while trying to keep the facade of two girls on a simple trip through the best country in the world. Also, since I’m not american I’m gonna say sorry for any misrepresentation, but I do try to keep up with my research on the locations as we hit them. As for now, have fun reading this amazing tale that will at some point involve ramen soup prepared with steak sauce.
I
Perfectly Average
Name aside, Deidre had always considered herself perfectly average. Average height, average looks, average personality with absolutely nothing remarkable about her. Not once in her life had she considered something vile in her blood. Yet as the pieces of gum went into the hands of the cashier, were rung up and he grabbed for the American Girl Magazine she felt a tingle run down her back. A cold, excited sensation as she looked at his reaction.
A pretty and slender face, a stubble of a beard, thick eyebrows resting above deep green eyes, he had to be close to his thirties. Or maybe the hair growing out of his face just made him look older. His eyebrows moved as he noticed the next item on the conveyor belt and she felt the warmth rush to her face, felt her fingers tense up because she knew exactly what the hesitation in his hands and the heavy sigh escaping his mouth meant. It meant that the show was on.
“Are you serious, kid?” he asked, emphasizing the last word just enough so she would get that there was no way she’d pass for anything other and the bottle of beer would be out of her grasp for a few more years.
She shrugged slightly, looked down and bit her lip. Her fingers wrapped themselves around her purse and she opened her mouth but let no word escape.
A woman, late fifties, slender, hair dyed in an egregious red, setting up her things on the conveyor belt right behind her. She saw the beer and the one purchased it, couldn’t help but giggle.
She found the courage, more embarrassed that she had to say the well-studied lines than being ‘caught’. “I’m just a bit on the small size.”
“And I guess Mister Teddy there can vouch for you.”
The bear stuck out of her pink backpack, his beady little eyes staring away like he had nothing to do with this mess.
When she said nothing, the cashier sighed. “Well, missus, if you want a drink, you can either show me your ID or get yourself some juice,” he said, somewhere between annoyed and amused.
She would’ve been amused, too, if she wasn’t the victim here.
“I have an ID,” she said and got out a prepared fake. It wasn’t well made, looked like something done with windows paint, with added butterflies and a signature written out in block letters. As she gave it to him, he stifled a giggle and woman behind Deidre tried to do the same.
“Alright,” he said after a second, his expression softening as she stared at him with honest determination. “You know what, you do get an A for effort. If all identification cards looked as pretty as this, my job would be way more fun.”
The compliment made her smile through the embarrassment. She’d put honest work in making that damn thing look like it was done by someone who had wanted to make it look as exciting as possible.
“Tell you what,” he said as he took the beer and put it behind the counter, stood up and reached for the sweets that were placed by the cash register and gave her a Kinder Surprise with a pink top. She took it, eyeing him unsure.
“I’m a nice guy, so I’m gonna tell you this. That egg is your promise to me that you’re not going to do something so blatantly stupid like walking into a shop and purchase adult drinks with a fake ID ever again. If I catch you doing it again, though, I’m gonna go talk to the police and they’ll put you in juvie for a bit. Of course, your parents are gonna know, too, and I honestly don’t believe that they’re gonna like that. And that’s completely disregarding,” he pointed outside to the car from which she stepped, “your sitter.”
Maggie was sitting in the car, whacking away on her phone intently. Again, she bit her lip, felt the tinge of excitement. Clutching the egg with one hand, she looked up at him. “You’re not going to tell her.”
“Do you want me to?”
She shook her head. Maggie knew her lines, had shouted them at Deidre earlier in the car. They were good lines and she was a good actor, but if she didn’t need to, then all the better.
He rang up the rest and told her the price. As she got out her Frozen wallet, she saw him shook his head in disbelief, wondering how she thought he’d take her for someone in her late teens. The woman behind her attempted to stifle another giggle. Deidre knew why, felt herself tense up. He thought it was because she knew she was caught, but in actuality it was because of the cherry on top of it all.
She gave him the money, said thank you for everything, and quickly put the things in her. As she turned to the door, the woman’s laughter rang through her ears, and he couldn’t help but giggle, too.
“Hey, pumpkin,” he said loudly, and she turned around, a question mark over her head.
“Your shirt’s riding up.”
She turned her head around, looked at her backside and found it true. With one hectic motion, she pulled down the shirt, knowing full well that it was going to stay in place until she put the backpack back on, which she did with seeming obliviousness.
Everybody in here had seen it, all five people, the cameras, even the dog that one person had brought in here despite the sign telling them not to do so. Yet the cashier was the first one who thought it appropriate to mention it and not be stunned by how inappopriate/adorable the girl looked. Even he let her walk away with the shirt riding up again.
Well, maybe it didn’t matter whether the shirt was as short as it was. Beneath the warm summer sun she waddled back to the car, regretting the choice she’d made before going into the gas station’s shop. The shirt was riding up again, resting on the hem of the diaper she wore. The shorts were too tight to obscure what she wearing. When she looked at a mirror before, the thick underwear was bulging out beneath. Now that she filled it, there was no doubt how childish she must’ve looked.
Maggie pushed open the door for her and she seated herself, backpack firm in her hands again.
“Looks like somebody didn’t make it to the potty,” Maggie joked. “Want me to change you before we drive?”
She glared at Maggie from her position, feeling so much smaller than ever before in front of her friend. “Can we not?” She asked, closed the door, put the seatbelt on before she opened the egg’s wrapping to relieve some stress.
Maggie shrugged and put the gas on. As she started to drive, she couldn’t help but wave at the cashier who, with a disarmed smile, waved back.
The road in front of them was close to empty, there was only one car approaching them, and, after a few minutes went past without much of a noise. To their side was the vast emptiness people called Arizona. Well, it wasn’t as empty as Deidre had pictured it for most of her life. There was some green after all.
“So,” Maggie started after a while, taking her eyes off the street to look at Deidre munching away on the chocolate. “Remember how I told you that you could make a convincing fourteen or fifteen year old?”
Deidre looked at her, the chocolate, melted by the warmth of the sun, smeared across her hands and around her mouth. She put on a mischievous smile.
“You’re fucking perfect as a tween. Holy shit!” Maggie yelled the last words before she broke out into laughter. “How the fuck are you doing that? You look so adorable, I can’t believe we ever worried about you pulling that shit off.”
She slammed her hands against the wheel of the car, gripped it tightly. The excitement was written on her face. “This is perfect. You’re an artist.”
Deidre looked at her hands, then back at Maggie. “What can I say. I’m a method actor,” she slammed her knee against the glove compartment so it would open and grabbed a few tissues out of it, she wiped the chocolate off, felt the taste stick to her mouth. “Also, being four foot nine with a pre-schooler figure might help.”
“Don’t get too cocky, Didi, you’d never make a pre-schooler.”
“Is that a challenge?” Deidre asked, leaning down and opening the backpack.
A bag of potato chips, two bars of chocolate and a bag with mixed sweets, as well as package of gum, she went past it and went straight for the two bottles of cold beer she’d snagged when nobody was looking. She went for the bottle opener to the side of her seat and opened both of them. One was for herself, the other for Maggie.
“As they say in the motherland, kampaii,” Deidre said.
“So, you’re japanese then?” Maggie asked as she took a sip from her bear.
“Is that japanese? I thought it was swahili. Eh, whatevs.”
As Maggie rolled her eyes, Deidre laughed. It wasn’t the laugh of an average person, but that was because, ever since she’d met Maggie she understood perfectly well that she wasn’t like the cashier or the woman behind them. She was one of the wolves. Downing the beer she looked in the mirror and what she saw put a smile on her face.
She looked like someone from the eastern parts of asia and maybe that was why she was as small as she was. Deidre didn’t really care, not anymore, not since she was made a part of Maggie’s group. She looked young with makeup, but younger still without it. Maybe it was some strange god’s notion of a joke that, added to her height, she had the most perfect baby face and a womanly figure that was close to nonexistent. Her mother had wept when she’d realized her sixteen year old girl would never be one of those sexy tall blondes that got to hook up with a millionaire. Her father hadn’t cared, he had a son in John and tended to only talk to her when she forgot about John’s birthday. He’d always called her beef with little Johnny childish and might’ve laughed if he could see her now.
The bright pink t-shirt she wore had a large flower stitched on its front, ruffled sleeves and only barely reached down her waist. The lime colored shorts bulged out heavily, the diaper sagging beneath them. She’d held it in ever since the airport, in preparation for a moment like this. It was like the cherry on top of the cake. A part of her felt ridiculous about wearing this outfit, a diaper, using the diaper and then waddling around in it, all to grab two bottles of beer. Another part of her was glad she’d done it, because who else but her could pull off something as ridiculous as this.
Nobody.
“Well, girl. That’s a good thing, cause the regrets of the past are the problems of today. Did I ever tell you how hard my childhood was? I am barely a functioning adult today because of it,” Maggie told her, attempting (and failing) to fake a tear.
“If you had a bad childhood, Mags, it was because you are and always were an asshole.”
Maggie looked at her with doe eyes, before she flashed a grin and lifted the beer. “You’re right when you’re right, potty princess.”
She lifted her beer, too and drank a bit.
“So, I think you might’ve done without the diaper, though. I mean, shit, I don’t think I would’ve dared.”
Deidre shrugged. “I almost regretted it, but in all honesty, I think they really stopped to take me seriously once they noticed. It’s plenty helpful, plus, I didn’t need to use their restroom. However that shit looks, it’s probably less sanitary when going into my own underwear.”
“Fuck, you’re weird.”
Deidre smiled at that. “Thank you,” she said, completely honest.
As both of them sipped on their beers a sign passed them by. A hundred kilometres ago she’d stepped out of her plane and onto american soil, where Maggie waved at her excitedly. She’d looked all grown up, a woman in her early twenties ready to take on life. Deidre must’ve looked similar, simply like a small woman who just came from a business trip, all dressed in a blazer and well applied make-up, or maybe not. People had stared at her for a bit, but only until she’d hit the bathroom and gotten into the clothes she was dressed in now.
A hundred kilometres ago she’d willingly decided to leave the old Deidre behind and finally get to do what she and Mags and all the rest of them did the best. Thinking back to the amazing shit Mags, Lucy and Roger had promised her on Discord, she wanted nothing more than this trip to be worth it. And even if their promises couldn’t be kept, now she knew she could at least have some fun on her own.