Fallout: Nurse Vegas Part 4 (Patreon)

The cries of protest you give in response to Minnie deciding a violent golden gecko will be her new pet do absolutely nothing to curtail her infatuation with the pitiful creature. You watch it hiss and spit for most of the trek back to Prospector Saloon.

Your guide, Sunny Smiles, is also too stunned to speak as she watches you hug the beast into submission. Its angry growls become little more than an annoyed rumble with Minnie’s intense strength apparently acting as enough of a show of dominance, or maybe it’s the smell of her over-packed diaper wafting towards the creature’s snout.

You actually empathize with the thing after seeing the moment when it finally gives up and slumps limply in Minnie’s arms—it hits a little too close to home given your current conundrum.

By the time you and Sunny make it back to Goodsprings, Minnie-you has had the good sense to put down the beast. Secretly you find yourself hoping it’d run away. Strangely enough it doesn’t. The gecko’s waddle is comically similar to yours—Squiggy because of its short legs and you because of the massive padding shoved between your thighs that's packed with shit.

You watch when the eyes of the old woman by the front door nearly pop out of her head upon seeing the gecko and she moves to reach for a sidearm. Sunny stops her just in time, despite your thoughts of “Oh thank god.”

“Hold up, Easy there Petra. I know it seems weird but that’s this girl’s… pet? Can’t have you killing it for no reason,” Sunny says.

Just the thought earns you back a whiny retort, Minnie responding to your insistence that the creature meet its end. “Donnnnn’t Sissy~! I like her!”

“It’s a goddamn wild animal. There’s no way it should be going into any establishment. It’s gonna bite our fucking face off!” you think. Speaking of yourself as more than one person is a weird feeling. All of a sudden it’s not your body you have to be concerned about. You’re longing to be back in control already, the short period you got earlier not nearly enough.

“Nuh-uh,” Minnie shot back, “Squiggy won’t hurt me and she listens well. Don’t worry, she’s a good gecko.”

While the ability to actually conduct conversation with your childish alter-ego was novel and helpful in the long run, her brattiness was going to prove to be a hard hurdle to overcome. You’re left grumbling, figuring that there’s not going to be any point in arguing about ‘Squiggy’ further.

All the while your body is following Sunny into the Saloon, why you don’t really know. You feel a rumble in your gut due to the emptiness caused by filling your pants, but there’s also the matter of dealing with said full pants. You hope Minnie will beg Sunny for a change rather than more milk because the alternative will mean going back to Doc Michelle with an even fuller diaper.

Pushing through the doors of the Prospector, you aren’t greeted with the sounds of the jukebox, but rather those of a confrontation. Over by the bar, you see a woman in a black NCRCF vest over a blue shirt with buzzed dark hair. She seems like the aggressor in the situation, coming in hard with phrases like ‘burn this shithole to the ground.’

Across from the hostile newcomer is a face you vaguely remember as the woman who was behind the bar earlier. Despite the hostility she's being confronted with, the older woman keeps her cool, telling the angry visitor if she wasn’t gonna buy something she had to get out.

“Oh shit,” Sunny says behind you, “Jolene Cobb’s back, can’t believe she’s still making trouble.”

You can’t help but notice that Sunny has her rifle still in hand, ready in the event things get violent. Alternatively, you stay still, grateful that Minnie doesn’t seem to know what to do in the presence of angry ‘adults’ so she just stands by and watches.

The tension in the room feels palpable with the woman identified as Jolene staring down the barkeep.

Nobody made a move.

Except for Squiggy.

The gecko crept forward, approaching Jolene with a quizzical expression. Watching it move you can only wonder why nobody is reacting to it, why nobody has shot the damn thing yet. In a moment of intelligence, the gecko takes an interest in  Jolene’s boot right before sinking its teeth into the leather in a sudden snap.

“YEOWWW!” Jolene howls, jumping around and trying to get away from the creature.

You hear a few people gasp and even a snicker or two. You—or at least the Minnie part of you—put your hands up in excitement. “Get ‘er Squiggy!” you call, “Get the bad lady!”

Squiggy unlatches her jaw just in time to avoid Jolene’s hard kick with her free foot and waddles back behind you. You bend down to meet the gecko, scooping it up in your arms. Everybody is stunned but it’s the barkeep who speaks up.

“See Jolene, even the damn wild animal doesn’t want you here. Why don’t you just cut your losses. We already told ya Ringa isn’t here anyway.”

Apparently sensing they’ve lost, Jolene moves to leave, giving a hard side eye to both you and Squiggy. “Somebody ought to shoot that damn thing.” she grumbled.

Instantly you regret carrying that sentiment all the way back from the well, not just because the gecko is obviously intelligent but because you don’t like sharing an opinion with this bitch.

To your surprise it’s Sunny that shoots back a retort from behind you. “We’d rather have Miss Squiggy here than you, you old bat, now get the fuck out.”

Once the hostile visitor cleared the building you find yourself stunned. So quickly you were proven wrong about the gecko who remained placid by your side. Once everybody settles back into place Minnie/you find yourself looking around unsure of what to do now. Luckily the woman who’d been arguing with Jolene waves you over.

“Well didn’t you cause quite a stir.” she says, “Glad I finally get to meet you. I’m Trudy—welcome to the Prospector Saloon.”

Minnie is apparently thrilled to meet the woman, practically bouncing. “Hi, I’m Minnie!” You say, “And this is Squiggy.”

The woman chuckles bemusedly at your antics, your embarrassment from the situation only making you loathe your position even more.

“Well hello you two, nice to have you in my bar.” she says, “Now what can I do for you?”

“Who the hell was that?” you wonder, “To be threatening a whole town it must have been somethin’ serious.”

To your surprise, Minnie actually vocalizes your question to Trudy although it’s with her own annoying toddler-esque slur to it.

The saloon owner explains about a trader who showed up a few days ago claiming to have been attacked. The town was kind enough to let her stay in the old abandoned gas station at the top by Doc Michelle’s. The explanation ends in a gripe about how hiding the trader is more trouble than it’s worth at this point.

“Maybe I can go help her!” Minnie offered, “I don’t want anyone to get hurt after all!”

Your alter ego’s optimism and willingness to interfere in the town’s upcoming gang war is worrisome to you, especially since you think Minnie should have at least waited until some payment was offered.

“Well she’s up the hill if you wanna talk to her. I won’t stop you.”

“Thanks Ms. Trudy!” Minnie says, skipping toward the door.

------------------------------------------

When Trudy mentioned a gas station at the top of the hill being abandoned, you had underestimated its dilapidated state. In reality, it was four walls that were hardly held together, the concrete so thin in some spots that you could swear wind was whistling through them.

Minnie seems rather devil-may-care as she grabs the handle and opens the door, like the whole thing isn’t going to topple in on her. Even Squiggy doesn’t follow, her intelligence seemingly dwarfing hers in terms of rationality.

The building doesn’t topple but opening the door does open you up to an unexpected sound. Moaning.

Inside the gas station is as derelict as the outside with the exception being the bedroll and lantern carefully laid out in the middle. The woman who could only be Ringa is there on her knees with her back toward you.

Long brown hair tumbles from her head, shaking with her movements over her plaid shirt. Your quick eye tells you that the bundled mass of fabric next to her is her pants, discarded for easier access to the diaper underneath them.

Ringa’s padding crinkles as she thrusts, humping the bulk vigorously into the pillow she is straddling. With diapers being such a force in the wasteland you’d heard about things like this, even seen a show in New Reno before, but it was hard to believe such a thing could happen out in the wild.

Even weirder to you your cheeks are flushing at the sight, a lustful embarrassment washing over you. Minnie’s thoughts are apparently affecting your own because diapers didn’t at all interest you before yet here you are now unable to look away. The sight is far too tantalizing.

Your own hands fly to the front of your lukewarm padding, eliciting a loud rustle from your nappy. The noise interrupts Ringa’s rhythm, causing her to whip around in shock. Her chestnut eyes were wide upon seeing you and she moved to reach for the bundle of her pants, possibly going for a firearm.

You perceived this as a clear and present danger but Millie kept your eyes locked on one spot—the raging tent in Ringa’s diaper that pushed out the front of her padding. A massive futa erection that is amplifying your shared horniness even more.

“Yo-You’ve gotta st-stop getting distracted.” you think, wishing that you could break free of Minnie’s unruly desires that keep her so focused on people. It’s too late though as she’s already in motion, plunging her own drooping diaper on top of Ringa’s.

The trader is speechless, especially when the first roll of your hips grinds your hyper-messy diaper into her tented one. Apparently that was all that was necessary for her to get the memo because despite the weight of you and your diaper combined Ringa thrust her hips, adding friction to your grinding that sent ecstatic waves of pleasure up through your body.

“Messy humpies goooood.” you moan, a perverse declaration that would normally embarrass you. However, at the moment you couldn’t help but agree. Your body felt amazing as it continued pushing against hers.

The crinkle of your diapers pressing together mixes with a growing harmony of moans. Whatever work Ringa had done before you entered didn't put you behind though because apparently Minnie’s libido was off the charts.

When the diapered trader finally spasms and screams underneath you, your movement’s don’t stop. Minnie keeps up the pressure until you feel the mind-melting electrical jolt of an orgasm not once but three times, finally rolling off of your partner when she can do little more than pant.

The front of Ringa’s diaper was stained with spurts of stickiness either symbolizing an overproduction or multiple orgasms.

“Sh-Shit, you surprised me.” Ringa said, “Usually I start with a friendly game of caravan.”

“What’s caravan?” Minnie thought inside your head.

At the same time you meant to think: “I never got that damn game anyway.” but ended up speaking the words aloud instead, surprising yourself along the way.

“Well, that was a better introduction anyway.” Ringa jokes. “I’m Ringa, pleasure to meet you I guess.”

Through your own exhausted panting you meant to say “Minerva” but are once again relegated to the backseat of your own body as Minnie speaks up.

“I’m Minnie and I’m here to help with that meanie Jolene.”

You cursed in your own head, wishing that with such a short burst of control, you would have mentioned something about your situation rather than a dumb caravan comment.

Ringa seems shocked by your declaration. “I mean I can handle Jolene, but when the rest of her friends show up, we’re gonna have a problem. We’ll need some help from the town if we’re going to take them on.”