==sorry folks, no visuals on this one. one of the main ai tools we here at the Office of Fine Art and Wank Material have been using recently has decided it doesn't want to play nice. so as we look for alternatives we may be lacking for a bit and/or be dealing with delays in postings. but, we hope you enjoy this next journal entry from Dr J===
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Okay Journal, so I woke up on the floor.
Or - not the floor. Not exactly. I woke up aware first of pressure, then of warmth, then of the very specific, unmistakable fact that my head was resting in someone’s lap.
Amelia’s.
She was sitting on the tile of the breakroom floor, back against the cabinets, legs out, chewing her gum. When I opened my eyes she looked down at me, blue and sharp and strangely calm, and said, “Hey. Don’t sit up yet.” Like she was telling someone not to touch a hot stove. “You hit your head.”
Lakshmi was there too, kneeling by my shoulder, already checking my pupils with the flashlight from her phone. I remember thinking, dimly, that I must look ridiculous. That my mouth tasted like copper.
“You fainted,” Amelia said, already checking her nails, “You were just sitting there next to me and kind of just…tipped forward. Smacked your forehead on the table, kinda hard. We’ve got ice.”
I tried to apologize. I always try to apologize. Lakshmi told me not to talk yet. Her hand was steady on my wrist, fingers counting my pulse.
“Your blood sugar probably dropped,” Lakshmi said.
Yeah I had skipped my form lunch, which I told myself was about space. About not putting anything in my body that was associated with Melissa, like abstinence could create a border.
“And you had a massive boner,” said Amelia, “No blood in your brain.”
Ugh. I’d started to remember. Seeing Melissa doing her interview, in the Channel 5 studio - jesus. It was like a trained dog, this beast between my legs, made to sit up and beg. The thought that its monstrous tumescence - it’s still nearly ten inches long, thick as a pipe, and I’m under four feet tall - had robbed blood from my head and made me lightheaded is ridiculous though, right? The idea that an erection could now make me lose consciousness is horrific and I’m putting it out of my head right now.
It was definitely the blood sugar.
Lakshmi was maybe considering the same thing and didn’t even blink at Amelia’s comment. She just reached for the small ice pack they’d fetched, wrapped it in a paper towel, and pressed it carefully to the bump that had bloomed on my forehead. The cold stung at first. “Shh, easy,” she murmured, voice slipping effortlessly into a softer, gentle register, “Just lie still for me, sweetheart.”
The ice began to soothe rather than sting. I thanked her.
“That is alright. Mommy is here.”
The word ‘Mommy’ slipped out of her so naturally I wasn’t sure she’d even noticed. But Amelia did. Her crooked little smile widened to something like a grin, slow and languid, as she looked down at me cradled in her lap. Her enormous breasts loomed directly above my face, the tight white tee stretched so thin I could see the clear outline of bra beneath.
“Look at you, Kiki, going full-on mommy mode,” Amelia teased, voice low and amused and making Lakshmi blush. “Oh c’mon you know it’s adorable. He’s already melting.”
Lakshmi’s cheeks warmed some more, but she didn’t stop. If anything, the praise made her lean in closer, her free hand brushing my hair back from the ice pack with slow, soothing strokes.
“He needs it,” she said simply, eyes soft on my face. “Right, baby? You have had such a big day. A lonely day.”
“Well, looks like he’s not lonely any more,” Amelia chuckled, shifting just enough that her breasts swayed gently above me - heavy, perfect, close enough that I felt their warmth nearly as much as the warmth of her lap below. “Did you lock the door when you came in?”
“I did,” Lakshmi answered.
“Good. Keep going,” Amelia encouraged. “You’re so good at this. Look how quiet he’s getting.” She pissed to crook her grin. “And his little visitor is back.”
I flushed, but god help me I didn’t say anything. My boner was back, like it felt the portent. Maybe it had never left, but suddenly I started to feel lightheaded.
“We need to make sure you do not lose consciousness again,” Lakshmi’s smile was small, almost shy as she spoke, but her touch had grown bolder and she was undoing the drawstring of my scrub pants.
I started, I think, to put up an argument - I wasn’t meaning to let them, y’know, today - but both girls quickly quieted me. This was apparently for my own good. “We’re your own personal nurses, you lucky twerp,” Amelia told me, “So you have to do what we say. We know best.”
“Mommy knows best, and we know you need to eat,” Lakshmi added, making me groan and my dick surge in her hand. Besides that, Lakshmi had given the ice pack to Amelia so she could reach behind herself to retrieve what she must have prepared while I was unconscious. My formu protein drink, in a baby bottle.
I started to put up another argument, but was again stifled - even easier this time, with my cock in Lakshmi’s big, strong hand. She gently scolded me for not having drank it earlier from the glass of it she’d made for my lunch, so now she was forced to feed it to me this way. She said she’d warmed it up.
“Wow you really are in full-on mom mode,” Amelia said with her typically casual insouciance.
Lakshmi smiled, and looked at the towering blonde, who was holding the ice pack to my forehead and gazing down at me, watching the spectacle of her boss preparing to get a handjob while being bottle-fed.
“Do you want to do it?” Lakshmi asked Amelia.
“What? Jerk him off?”
“No,” Lakshmi answered, “feed him.” She looked into my eyes with her own dark wells, deep with flecks of green gemstones and framed by lightly kohl’d lids. “I can jerk him off.”
My last argument was again quelled, this time more demonstrably by a hand over my mouth, then - slipped in between my lips - a manicured finger. Lakshmi’s. She’d already handed the bottle to Amelia. “This will get his sucking reflex going,” she explained, “If he has my finger first.”
God help me yes I was already dry-nursing her finger. My stomach, betraying me as traitorously as my cock, twisted with hunger and something deeper.
“You have not eaten,” Lakshmi said, maternal certainty ringing soft and clear, “We are fixing that right now.” Her hand tightened on my shaft just enough to make me whimper.
Lakshmi instructed Amelia to unscrew the cap, tilt the bottle just enough to test a drop on her wrist, then - taking her finger from my mouth - told Amelia to bring the nipple to my lips, gentle, patient, irresistible.
With sparkles like blue diamonds in her eyes, and also hints of Melissa’s golden-green, Amelia’s gaze met mine. “Open for Mommy,” she whispered.
And god help me (I know I use that a lot. I gotta stop, the girls would say) I did.
“We need to get some calories in you,” Lakshmi insisted, slowly now starting to pump my turgid erection, “and proteins, micronutrients, Mommy’s hormones.” They knew it was crafted to replicate Melissa’s profile. “So you do not pass out on us again.”
“And let your blood go back to your brain, so maybe you can walk…” Amelia added, as she settled the bottle’s nipple between my lips, “…baby.”
Lakshmi smiled at her, and then both girls gazed down at me.
“Do you need us to teach you to walk, hm?” one of them said.
So, Journal, wanna know what it’s like to be a child-sized man with a mommy-complex and a ten-inch erection getting a handjob while being bottle-fed and tended to by a toweringly bosomy blonde and her young Earth-mother accomplice? Here you go.
The nipple, slipped between my lips, was warm silicone, the formula already beading at the tip. Amelia tilted the bottle just right - slow, patient, like she’d done this a thousand times though it was probably her first - and the first sweet, thick drop hit my tongue.
I sucked.
Instantly. Helplessly. Like a reflex I never asked for.
Lakshmi’s right hand joined her left, wrapped around my cock, skin-to-skin. Her now double-grip was firm but gentle, stroking in long, deliberate pulls that matched the rhythm of the bottle. Every upward glide sent sparks up my spine; every downward stroke made my hips twitch up into her palms. I couldn’t stop them. I couldn’t stop anything.
Amelia cooed above me, voice low and syrupy. “That’s it, baby…such a good boy for your mommies. Look at you, already feeding so eagerly. You were so hungry, weren’t you?”
“That is good, Amelia,” Lakshmi encouraged, “keep going.”
Her hands were strong. Amelia’s lap warm, endless. My neck - tense all day from trying to hold my head up, from pretending I was still man enough to matter - had given in. I’d let it relax completely, sinking deeper into the soft cradle of thighs.
“He likes your lap, Amelia,” Lakshmi lauded, stroking me but watching her friend tend to my other needs: my hunger, the bump on my head, my craving for warmth.
“Yeah I always thought my thighs were too thick,” Amelia said softly, “But I guess they were made for this.”
Thick yes, smooth, strong enough to hold me without effort. My entire weight settled there like it belonged, and for the first time in hours I didn’t have to fight gravity. I didn’t have to be anything except…held.
Lakshmi’s strokes quickened just a fraction, her thumb circling the head on every pass. “Such a good little man,” she whispered, maternal sweetness laced with something now hungrier, “letting us take care of you like this. You do not have to be big anymore. You do not have to pretend. Just let Auntie Lakshmi and Auntie Amelia make it all better.”
Amelia shifted again, deliberately this time - making her massive breasts sway above my face, heavy and full. She leaned forward just enough that the underside of one breast brushed the part of my forehead where the ice pack wasn’t, warm and soft in contrast to the cool of the pack, the scent of her skin - vanilla, faint sweat, woman - flooding my senses.
“You like that, don’t you?” she teased, voice dripping honey, “Two big, soft mommies taking such good care of their tiny boy. Look at how perfectly your little head fits right here…” She pressed down gently, letting the plush curve settle over my face until my nose nestled deep into her cleavage, muffled, surrounded, drowning in warmth.
I whimpered around the nipple of the bottle. My hips bucked into Lakshmi’s hand. The formula kept flowing, thick and sweet and warm, filling my mouth while her strokes filled everything else.
“It’s weird,” I heard Amelia say to Lakshmi, above me, “Marisela says that she wants to sharpen me up.” Maybe she was being cryptic, or saying something important, but it was mainly lost on me as she settled more boob around my face. “She tells me I’m a weapon. But I guess I can be soft too.”
That made Lakshmi pause, consider. “I think there is maybe a little bit of both in all of us.”
“Yeah,” Amelia agreed, turning the ice pack on my head over, more cool against the lump.
Maybe it was delirium, or maybe it was my wisest and most lucid moment yet, but my thought right then and there was this: what man wouldn’t want this? Being tended to when you’re hurt, fed when you’re hungry, relieved when all the blood in your body has gone to your cock and made it a throbbing, painful burden? And protected by beautiful women that seemed to get stronger every day?
I also thought then, and I’m thinking now: maybe I can help. Maybe I can help - in my own little way, by guiding Melissa in any way I could - bring this sort of love to the changing world. Help protect it from those who would want to see something darkly…I dunno…different.
“Such a good boy,” Lakshmi cooed, pace steady, perfect, “Being so good. Helping us help you. Feeding so nicely for us. Letting Mommies stroke you.” Stroke, stroke, stroke. “You are safe, baby. You are so safe.”
Amelia removed the ice pack from my forehead, and with her newly free hand cradled the back of my head, holding me tight against her breast. “That’s right,” she whispered, rocking me gently as she heard my weak moaning become more urgent. She knew I was coming close but part of me was still fighting. “Just let go. Let it all out for your big mommies. You’ve been so brave…so big for so long. Now you can be small. You can be ours.”
“Good, Amelia,” Lakshmi commended, “He is almost there.”
The pressure built - fast, relentless, unstoppable. My whole body tensed, thighs trembling, cock pulsing in Lakshmi’s grip.
“Shh, shh. Just let it go, sweetie,” she whispered, “Let that pent up energy flow out of you. You will feel better, and then you can focus on your work for the rest of the day.”
“B-b-but-” I began.
“Shhh,” Anika - no, Melissa, no, Amelia - whispered, lips blowing minty breath against my hair. “Let it out, little one…you’re safe… come for your mommies…”
I shattered.
Hot, helpless waves rolled through me, spilling over Lakshmi’s fingers in thick, desperate pulses. I groaned - long, muffled, broken - the side of my face buried deep in Amelia’s cleavage as shame and relief crashed together. My hips jerked once, twice, then three or four more times then stilled, spent, limp.
Lakshmi milked me gently through the aftershocks, slowing until I was soft and trembling. Amelia kept rocking me, humming a soft, wordless lullaby, her breast a warm, living pillow onto my cheek, the bottle a panacea.
“There we go,” Lakshmi whispered, leaning in to press a kiss to my temple, “All better now.”
Amelia shifted, tucking me between them like a child. “Rest, baby,” she murmured, “Mommy’s got you.”
The television also murmured, a talk show full of cheering women, but now forgotten.
For the moment, the world outside could wait.
And lying there - limp, held, fed, stroked, completely taken care of - I felt something terrifying and perfect at the same time.
Relief. And maybe purpose.
Deep down, in the place I’m most afraid to look…there’s relief. I didn’t have to be in charge. Why did any of us have to be in charge? We had women.
I didn’t have to pretend I was big enough, strong enough, smart enough. The women in my life - they could be that for me. And when they heal me, when they feed me, when they relieve the pressure? I feel completely, perfectly cared for. It’s terrifying, but it’s everything I’ve ever wanted.
And wouldn’t everyone, the whole world, want that as well?
—J