Backroads, Part 3 [Tier 3] (Patreon)

Chapter 2: Playing House

Heidi had managed to pull together a pretty satisfying meal for everyone. Breaded chicken, mashed potatoes, green beans, and even some dinner rolls. We ate at my father’s old dining room table–a piece of furniture that I knew for a fact my dad hadn’t even used in the last few years he was alive. He was a frozen TV-dinner kind of guy.

The apple hadn’t fallen far from the tree either. On the rare occasions I made food for myself, I stuck to simple things where most of the work had already been done for me. Usually, I ordered takeout.

“Do you like to cook?” Marjorie asked Heidi. “Because this is very good.”

“I don’t get to cook big meals as much as I’d like to,” Heidi replied. “But I do love to do it when I get the chance.”

I couldn’t help but feel like she was taking a tiny shot at me. She was the hardest thing to leave behind when I left Tradd County years ago. Actually, I had asked her to come with me. She wanted to, I think, but there was a lot that she wasn’t ready to leave behind herself at that point. Her mom was still around then. And someone had to care for the goat farm.

We were almost an item then. We had all but kissed. There had been a few nights where we stood up on Jackson Road together, holding hands and smiling. I think we both assumed that it’d happen eventually.

And then I left, and I rarely ever looked back. We grew apart. And if it wasn’t for Dad passing away, we might not have ever reconnected–even if it was just to ask her for favors.

If things had worked out differently, and I had stayed in Tradd, maybe we’d be living at this very cabin together. Or maybe we’d be living on her farm. She’d be cooking meals like this for me every night.

“Do you cook?” Heidi asked Marjorie.

“Not well,” she answered, smiling. “I can follow directions pretty well. And I guess I can boil water and sear some chicken on the stove just fine. But that’s about the extent of it. Dan never complains much.”

Complains. Heidi and I exchanged a glance. She was still referring to him in the present tense, like it wasn’t over. Could’ve been out of habit, but we were both a little disturbed by it.

“Yeah, well, I see Dan Trumbauer getting sloshed over at Whitetails in Sennet Mill often enough that I just figured that’s where he gets all his meals,” Heidi shrugged. Classic Heidi bluntness.

“You’re not wrong,” Marjorie said, looking down at her plate.

“Hey, we’re not going to talk about that guy,” I said. “Who cares about that fucking idiot?”

“But he’s probably wondering where I am,” Marjorie said.

“Good,” Heidi said. “One can only hope that he wanders into the woods to find you, trips, and falls down a waterfall.”

“Hold on, hold on,” I said. “Maybe we don’t wish death upon the guy…”

Of course, I’ve already imagined at least 12 different scenarios where I’ve killed and/or dismembered him.

Marjorie finally laughed. “It is a nice thought though, right? The thought of him trying to find me, and having no idea where I am.”

“Just remember that,” I said. “And keep thinking about how nice that thought is until you’re out of Tradd County for good.”

“Speaking of,” Heidi said. “What does that plan look like?”

Marjorie and I looked at each other, each hoping the other would have an answer for that.

“At some point, I guess I need to call my mother,” she finally said. “Then, as long as she’s able to help me out, I’ll go down there and stay with her for a bit until I figure the rest out.”

“I have the same question about you, Gus,” Heidi then said, turning towards me. “What’s your plan? I assume you’ll be leaving again?”

I wondered if the edge in her tone was detectable to Marjorie.

“Well, I mean, I came back to Tradd to clean up the house so I could put it on the market. And once it’s sold… I guess I wouldn’t have much reason to stick around.”

Heidi laughed and shoveled another bite of food into her mouth. I know that laugh. “I guess I’m not a reason then, huh?”

“What keeps you around?” I asked. “Have you ever thought about leaving?”

“Goats,” Heidi responded. “Goats keep me around.”

“Alright.”

“I like goats.”

“So, uhm, thanks again–to the both of you–for helping me out today,” Marjorie said. It was clearly a play to cut through the tension at the table, and it seemed to work. Both Heidi and I took deep breaths and composed ourselves.

“Of course,” I said.

“The, uhm, things I bought you,” Heidi said. “They were okay?”

Marjorie’s cheeks blushed a little as she nodded. “They’ll work. Thank you.”

“There’s a medical supply store in Fowlerville. If you need something different, I bet we could find it there.”

“These will be okay,” Marjorie said. “I used to order them online. Once I get to my mom’s, I’ll probably just do that again.”

“That’s interesting,” I said. “I guess I never thought about ordering diapers online.”

“First of all, this is a pretty awkward dinner conversation,” Heidi said. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

Marjorie laughed. “It’s really okay.”

“Second of all, I don’t think folks who need them like to have them referred to as ‘diapers.’ I mean, the package itself calls them ‘adult incontinence briefs.’”

“You really don’t have to call them any silly thing like that,” Marjorie said. “I just call them diapers. Because they’re…diapers.”

I smirked, recalling my earlier observation. Every once in a while I’d glance at Marjorie’s face, wondering if I’d see any change in her expression that could indicate that she was wetting her diaper. I felt kind of filthy for doing it, but I couldn’t help but be curious. I just kept remembering seeing her in the passenger seat of my car as I drove–her bloated and swampy diaper between her voluptuous thighs.

Heidi would punch you if she knew you were having daydreams like this.

“Can I just say that this is really nice?” I said, hoping to change the subject.

“What is?” asked Heidi. “Dinner?”

“Not just, like, the food. I mean–the food is good, don’t get me wrong. But I mean…just sitting around a table and talking. It’s kind of, uhm, familial, right? It’s just been a long time since I’ve had that experience.”

To my delight, both Heidi and Marjorie seemed to agree, their heads nodding.

“This is kind of nice,” Marjorie said.

“It’s kind of weird when you think about it,” Heidi said. “Like, how we got to be here today? But…yeah, this is nice.”

“You know what it feels like?” I asked.

Marjorie shrugged. “Hmm?”

“It’s kind of like we’re playing house. You know, like that game you play when you’re a kid? You’ve got the mommy and the daddy and the…uh…” I stopped myself, realizing that I hadn’t thought this out very well before opening my mouth. “Fuck. I’m sorry.”

To my relief, Marjorie was laughing. “No, no. Go on. What does that make me?”

“Yeah,” Heidi added, her lips curling into a smug grin. “I’m curious to hear where you were going with that too.”

“I wasn’t actually going to call Marjorie a, uh, baby…”

“Why not? I’m wearing a diaper like a baby, aren’t I?”

“You’re the one calling them ‘diapers,’” I said.

“He does have a point,” Heidi said, her head slowly turning towards Marjorie. “But I don’t think it’d be a bad thing to be a baby. Having other people dote on you? Having your food cut up for you? I bet it’d be nice.”

Marjorie’s cheeks had turned a vibrant pink. “N-no…that doesn’t sound that bad at all.”

“Here, let’s try this,” Heidi said, reaching across the table and grabbing onto the edge of Marjorie’s plate before dragging it to her.

Marjorie made a weak effort to try and stop her, but once the plate had slid across the table, she let it go. With a gleeful smile on her face, Heidi carefully cut all of Marjorie’s food into smaller pieces before pushing the plate back towards her. It seemed pretty obvious that it was a joke–at least on the surface–and Marjorie managed to laugh about it while blushing a  little. But I noted the slightest shift in the room’s tone–like, maybe, Heidi had accidentally stumbled into something that both she and Marjorie liked more than they were willing to say.

And maybe I was just wildly speculating, as I knew that I had rather enjoyed that little scene. I couldn’t help but think of Marjorie sitting next to me in my car after I had cut her down from that tree. The way she sat pouting there in her dirty diaper, and the way that it had stirred something deep within me that…

“...right?” Heidi was asking, looking at me. I must’ve spaced out.

“I-I’m sorry?”

“I said that Marjorie should crash here tonight, right?” Heidi said, apparently for the second time.

“Yeah, absolutely,” I said. “We’ll rest up tonight and then tomorrow we can figure out what the plan is for getting Marjorie…you know, far away from here.”

The other woman nodded.

“You should stay too,” Marjorie said to Heidi. “It’ll be like a sleepover.”

“Wish I could,” Heidi shrugged. “But the goats are going to need me eventually. I’ll try and stick around for as long as I can.”

Marjorie nodded, seemingly content with that answer.

Again, I might’ve just been speculating, but I got the impression that it had been a while since Marjorie was in the company of people that were friendly to her. We might have been the closest thing she’d had to friends in a bit, for all I knew.

With our plates empty and bellies full, we slowly began to rise from the table to start cleaning up. Marjorie had collected a few dishes into a pile, but quickly stepped back with a worried look on her face.

“E-excuse me. I’ll be right back.” She quickly darted off towards the master bedroom.

“I suppose she had an accident,” Heidi said, picking up where Marjorie had left off.

“Just now, you think? Or during dinner?” I couldn’t help but feel a little tingly at the thought of her wetting herself while we ate our food together.

“Does it matter?” Heidi chuckled.

I sighed, realizing how creepy I might’ve sounded. “Sorry… I can’t help but be curious.”

“I’m just fucking with you,” Heidi said. “But if it helps answer your question, maybe take a look at her chair.”

“Huh?”

I leaned around the table, observing that the plush seat top of Marjorie’s chair had a crescent-shaped patch of moisture on it.

“Looks like she sprung a leak,” Heidi said. “Probably why she got out of here in a hurry.”

“Damn. We gotta play it cool. I don’t want to embarrass her.”

Heidi then laughed. “Play it ‘cool?’ Did you think I wasn’t before?”

“Maybe I’m just…talking to myself.”

“Be careful, Gus.”

“Wh-what do you mean?”

“Maybe we haven’t seen each other that much in the last few years, but that doesn’t mean that I know you any less. I’ve seen that look in your eyes before.”

“What look?”

“That, I dunno, swirly look in your eyes. That one you used to get when you looked at Shawna Goldthorpe. Or Hailie Bonecki. Or Mary…”

“Alright, alright,” I replied. “I get it.”

“You have a little tiny crush on this girl?”

I sighed. “I…don’t know.”

“Be careful,” she repeated. “She’s been through a lot. Probably a lot more than we even know. Our priority is getting her whatever help she needs, okay? Can you just, like, keep it in you pants?”

“Keep it in my pants? Heidi, do you think that I’m really going to…”

“Sorry,” she said, sighing. Her cheeks had turned a little pink. I could sense that there was something else she wanted to say, though she was biting her tongue. “That was rude of me. I know you’re just trying to help. And you’ve helped her a lot today.”

“You’re right though,” I said. “I do need to be careful. Thank you.”

It wasn’t until we had cleared the table and were halfway through cleaning the dishes in the sink when Marjorie reemerged. She was wearing a different pair of shorts than she had been wearing before. The first thing she did was to inspect the chair she had been sitting in during dinner.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “I…I didn’t know I’d leak like that.”

“It’s not a big deal,” I answered from the kitchen. “It’ll dry.”

“If anyone should be sorry,” Heidi said, “it’s me. I bought what I thought were the best, uh…”

“Diapers,” Marjorie said with a little laugh. “I swear, it’s okay if you use that word.”

“Right, right. I bought what I thought were the best, uh, diapers, but maybe they weren’t all that great.”

“That’s not your fault,” Marjorie said. “The ones at the grocery stores usually aren’t that great.”

“Where do you get yours from?” I asked, thinking about the thick garment that had been hanging between her legs when I first found her. It would eventually leak, but I suspected that it had held quite a bit before that happened.

“I usually order the ones I like online.” She quickly added: “Not the ones I, uh, like. I mean…”

“You really don’t have to defend yourself,” Heidi offered.

We finished the dishes, with Marjorie elbowing her way to the kitchen to take over for Heidi. And for a little while, it felt good to just sit down and relax. It felt like we had all earned a bit of quiet rest. I had been stressing about life and my return to Tradd County. Heidi had been keeping herself busy on her farm by herself. And Marjorie–well, there was no telling just how unpleasant her life had been with Dan.

“I want some whiskey,” Heidi eventually muttered. “Something brown and cheap.”

“My dad wasn’t much of a drinker,” I said. “I doubt there’s any around here.”

“I know there’s not,” Heidi laughed. “Believe me, I looked for it when I was here to get rid of all the food in the kitchen.”

“I try not to drink too much,” Marjorie added. “The last thing I need is even less control of my body.”

“Well,” I shrugged, “I was just thinking about my Dad’s brother Kurt used to come by all the time. And he was practically a professional drinker. He used to hide a bottle or two in the spare bedroom when he came. Were I a betting man, I’d say he probably left something…”

“Oh thank god,” Marjorie laughed. “I need a drink too.”

“Yes,” Heidi nodded. “Go. Look.”

A few minutes later, I had three mismatched drinking glasses on the living room coffee table, and I was filling each with a little bit of General Motimer’s Rye Whiskey.”

“Who the hell was General Mortimer?” asked Heidi.

Details on the bottle were scant. “A purveyor of bottom-shelf liquors, assumedly.”

“Does age make whiskey taste better?” Marjorie asked.

“Tough to say when we didn’t know what this tasted like in the first place.”

“A toast,” Heidi said, lifting her glass into the air. “To…our little game of house.”

We all chuckled, but lifted our glasses into the air together anyway–clinking them together. “To our game of house.” We all swallowed our shots at the same time, followed by all of us making the same painful grimace as we swallowed the vile liquid.

“Has it gone bad?” Marjorie asked.

“I just don’t think it was all that good to begin with,” I offered.

“It burns,” Heidi said. “But it’s a burn I needed. Hit me again, bartender.”

“Same,” replied Marjorie.

I poured some more into each of our glasses.

That was the last of our complaints about General Mortimer and his rye. We all knew it was terrible, but it was still scratching the same itch that nothing else in the cabin was going to come close to. For a little bit, we didn’t try to force much small talk–we sulked in our seats, carefully sipping away our issues.

“Hey, let me ask you a question,” I said to Marjorie. I wasn’t sure that I was ‘tipsy’ yet, but I doubted I was stone-cold sober either.

“Just ask.”

“Do you ever…like diapers? Like, is there a comfort that you get from them?”

“Gus!” exclaimed Heidi. “Jesus.”

“No, no,” giggled Marjorie. “It’s okay. That’s a good question. And…yeah. I guess there is. It’s hard to explain, I think. Like, I know it’s not something I’m supposed to like. But…”

“If you’re so curious,” Heidi interjected, her eyes locked on me. “Maybe you should try one on.”

“I don’t think that’s for me,” I said. “What about you, Heidi? Maybe a diaper would increase your efficiency on the farm. No potty breaks.”

“Potty,” she repeated, rolling her eyes at my infantile turn of phrase. “No, I think I’m good. I’ve always seen myself as the parental type, not the childish. Not that there’s anything wrong with that, of course.”

“Why haven’t you ever had any children then?” Marjorie asked. Judging by the look on her face by the time she finished that question, she already regretted asking that.

To my relief, Heidi nonchalantly shrugged. “I used to think I’d pump out a kid or two once I found the right guy. But, well… I don’t know if you’ve paid close attention to the dating pool around Tradd County or not. It’s not good.”

Marjorie chuckled. “Makes sense. I mean, look at Dan. I thought he was the best I could do.”

“The secret,” Heidi said, “is to just leave Tradd altogether. Though… How’s that working out for you, Gus?”

I sighed. “Maybe I’m not seeing anyone now. But I’ve dated women. Nice women, too.”

This elicited a few smirks and giggles from the ladies. It didn’t bruise my ego as much as I thought it would’ve, though. It occurred to me that it had been a long time since I enjoyed a night like this. I didn’t have a lot of friends back home–it was just the nature of moving away from where you grew up while not being the most extroverted person. But these two–one, an actual stranger and another, who was essentially a stranger–felt like the best friends I had in a long time.

We slowly worked our way down the bottle. We were feeling it, each of us in various states of bubbliness. It felt good–not just to drink our troubles away together, but for there to be a ‘together’ in the first place.

“Urph,” Marjorie groaned, leaning forward in the loveseat while holding her belly. “I…need to excuse myself for a minute.”

“Bathroom?” I asked.

She nodded, her cheeks blushing. “It’s rare that my body lets me know when something’s coming. But this is one of those times, so… I should probably take care of that.”

My heart began to race as I glanced over towards Heidi. I don’t know why I looked at her–maybe I was hoping that I’d see an expression on her face that matched the way that I was feeling. I wasn’t sure I could make anything out of her face though. And, so, it fell on me. I had to say something.

“Wait.”

Marjorie had just lifted herself from the seat, and she paused to turn around and look at me. Heidi was looking at me too, seeming to be curious about what I could possibly have to say right now.

I wasn’t even sure I wanted to say what I was thinking. I thought that I might’ve understood a bit about who Marjorie was–and what she wanted. But what if I was wrong?

Thankfully, I was the right amount of tipsy to finally blurt out what I had to say: “Uhm, why don’t you just…hold on for a second.”

“Gus,” Heidi said. “She just said that she has to go to the bathroom.”

“I know, I know. But…I’m just thinking that if, like, you needed a diaper change… Well, we could, uh, help.”

“Gus,” Heidi repeated. “What in the hell is wrong with you? Marjorie, go. Go to the bathroom. Don’t listen to this dolt.”

But I saw it. For just the briefest moment, I was sure that I had seen Marjorie’s lips curl into a slight smirk–just before flattening out into an expression of discomfort again.

Marjorie took two steps towards the bathroom when she paused. What transpired next seemed to happen in slow-motion–a scene that stretched out across multiple minutes when it actually took a single second.

There was the sound–the wet and bubbly rumble of her bottom as it lost the fight against whatever was trying to escape. The sound–a muffled plbrbrbrft–pierced through the silence of the living room. Heidi and I watched the back of her borrowed shorts shift and expand as they became burdened with containing something bigger than what they had been before.

And as quickly as she had filled her diaper, the scent of its new load spread from her bottom in all directions. I swore that I could almost see the faint cloud consuming all the available space in the room. It certainly filled our nostrils–a ripe and putrid odor that could only be a humiliating bowel movement in a place where bowel movements weren’t supposed to happen.

“Marjorie, go take care of yourself,” Heidi said, her tone strong and more maternal than I could ever remember hearing it sound before. She then turned towards me: “Gus, what the hell is wrong with you? She was going to go to the bathroom! This didn’t have to happen.”

“I…I don’t think I would’ve made it either way,” Marjorie said.

“Go,” Heidi said to her again. “Get cleaned up.”

She nervously ran a hand through her hair. “Well…”

“Do you need a hand?” I said.

“Gus, no offense,” Heidi said. “But what do you know about changing a diaper?”

“I could use a hand,” Marjorie said.

To everyone’s surprise, Heidi and I both stood up at the same time to volunteer.

“You really want to help?” Heidi asked me.

“I was going to ask you the same thing,” I said.

“Uhm, if…you both want to help,” Marjorie said. “I’m okay with that.”

None of this would’ve happened, were it any other time. General Mortimer had worked his magic on us, though, and it somehow made sense to both of us that we go and help Marjorie with her diaper. I was reminded of Heidi’s earlier observation that it was like we were playing ‘house.’

Marjorie was walking again, taking careful and wide steps in her loaded pants as she trudged towards my father’s bedroom. Heidi looked at me and sighed before finally chuckling and shrugging.

“I can’t believe that we’re doing this,” she said.

“You don’t have to.”

“No, that’s the weirdest fucking part. I want to.”

There was something strange in the air in the old bedroom–and it wasn’t just the toxic cloud wafting from Marjorie’s behind. It was an energy, of sorts. Electricity. All three of us had these stupid grins on our faces that we were trying to be subtle about. None of us wanted the others to notice how into this idea we were, despite it starting to seem obvious that we all probably wanted the same thing.

“How do you normally do this?” I asked.

“Usually it’s just me,” Marjorie said. “And I do it while standing up and I’m in the bathroom.”

Heidi sighed and laced her fingers together, stretching them out in front of her to crack her knuckles. “Look, I’ve had baby brothers and cousins. I know how to change a diaper.”

“Right,” I said, without thinking much about it. “But she’s not a baby. She’s a…”

“No, I’m a baby,” Marjorie nodded, her voice soft. Her cheeks had turned that pretty pink color again.

“See?” Heidi asked. “She’s a baby. And when you change a baby’s diaper, you put them down on their back. So, Margie, why don’t you lay down on the bed right there.”

Margie had been such a perfect nickname. I knew Marjorie agreed too, judging by the way her face lit up when she heard it.

Soon, Marjorie was on her back. It was strange looking down at her like this. She seemed smaller to me now. The way she wiggled around–trying to avoid making a bigger mess of her diaper–had a remarkably infantile energy to it.

And then–as if Marjorie was able to read my mind and wanted to respond to my observation–I watched as she slid the thumb of her right hand into her mouth and began suckling on it.

“You’ve wanted this for a long time, huh?” Heidi asked her. “You, wanting to be treated like a little baby?”

She nodded.

“Not how I pictured spending my night,” Heidi said to me. “Though I think it’s even better than whatever I was picturing. Here, why don’t you take her shorts off.”

I was nervous that the idea of babying Marjorie would be a lot harder in execution than in concept–but the combination of Heidi’s confidence and General Mortimer’s influence was awakening a paternal side to me that I never knew I had before. I grabbed the waistband of the shorts and gave them a good tug, pulling them past the dirty diaper and down her thighs. I reeled them in the rest of the way, pulling them all the way down her legs and off from her feet.

This diaper was so much different than the one I had seen her in when we first met. That one–despite all the damage she had done to it–remained thick looking and plump. It had a plastic backing to it that instilled a sense of security. That was a diaper you could trust to hold a load or two. This thing that she was wearing now looked like a disappointment. The weak velcro tapes on the side looked as if they were barely clinging on for dear life. The cloth-like body of the diaper already seemed completely saturated, despite the fact that she had only been wearing it since the end of dinner.

“If you’re going to make messes like this,” I said, “you really ought to have better diapers.”

“I…do,” Marjorie responded. “Usually. I have some back at home. Well, uhm, Dan’s place.”

“This one looks like it did its job,” Heidi said, reading a new diaper and a package of baby wipes–which I assumed she bought while she was at the store earlier. “But I think that job is done now and it needs to be retired.”

I pointed to one of the velcro tapes, looking up at Heidi. “So. Do you want to do the honors?”

“Scared of what might jump out at you if you open her diaper up yourself?”

Marjorie giggled at this through her thumb.

“N-no, but…”

“Go on, Daddy. Open it up. Let’s see what kind of present the baby has left for us.”

We end up opening it together. I take the tapes on the left side, while Heidi takes the tapes on the right. Then we slowly open the diaper, lifting the front of it up and away from her skin before hauling it between her thighs.

And there it is–the massive brown load she had pushed into her pants just a few minutes earlier. Marjorie’s cheeks were pink again, though she still seemed to be smiling while she sucked her thumb.

“I’m surprised,” Heidi said.

“Hmm?”

“I was expecting you to bolt as soon as you saw what she did to her diaper.”

I shrugged. “Here I am. Like a good Daddy.”

“You know, I never really liked playing ‘house’ with you when we were younger.”

This took me by surprise. I had vague recollections of playing the game with her, though I didn’t remember how the game actually ever played out. “Really? Why?”

“We’d usually use one of my dolls as the baby,” she shrugged. “You’d do a cute daddy-impression for a while, until I asked you to do something with the baby. And then you’d be done with the game and find something else to do.”

I laughed. “I don’t remember that. But maybe I just needed the right baby.”

Another little giggle from Marjorie.

I reached over and grabbed the package of wipes from Heidi. I was determined to show her that I was dedicated to my newfound fatherly role now. I drew a moist wipe from the package and turned back to Marjorie’s mess–finding the expansive disaster a little more overwhelming than I anticipated. I reached forward, attempting to wipe a spot on her thigh clean. And while my touch did yield a little moan from Marjorie’s lips, I felt like I had only made the mess worse–spreading the little splotch across her skin.

Heidi laughed and took a wipe of her own. “Here,” she said. “Watch what I do. It’s sort of like a, uh, painting. Oh, or a sculpture. First, you want to take big, broad, steps to contain the bulk of the mess. And then you focus on the little details. So I’d do something like this…”

She bent the front of the diaper towards Marjorie again, using it to scoop away most of the mess from between her legs while keeping it contained within the diaper. From there, she was able to take her wipe and begin taking larger strokes to sweep through each area. I could see what Heidi meant–each swipe would clear away a good amount of the mess, leaving only traces that would need to be touched up with the next swipe.

I caught on quickly, and soon we’d both be cleaning up Marjorie’s skin together.

This was a lot for Marjorie. Were I to guess–and I felt confident enough that I’d hesitate to even call it a ‘guess’–Marjorie had dreamed of a day like this for so long that she could barely contain herself. Her legs spread a little wider, and her midsection would occasionally thrust into the air. All the while, she’d moan and groan with every swipe of our hands.

It was all too apparent that she was loving this–and it was hard not to have that sort of energy rub off on you. I was feeling it, and the smirk on Heidi’s face suggested that she was feeling it too.

It’s hard to say when it stopped being a diaper change. The old dirty diaper was pulled away, and her skin had been cleaned off, but the smell still lingered around us. We hadn’t put Marjorie into a new diaper yet. We were still touching her. She was still moaning.

My fingers were inside of Marjorie’s glistening and hairless pussy. Not to be outdone, Heidi made the bold decision to work a finger or two into Marjorie’s tight little asshole. I expected a cry of pain or some sort of resistance, but we were instead met with a long moan as a tiny line of drool dribbled out of the corner of her mouth and rolled down her chin.

“F-fu…” muttered Marjorie. She was trying to get words out, but just couldn’t do it.

“It’s okay,” Heidi cooed. “You don’t have to talk. Do what babies do. Just babble.”

I laughed at the idea, finding it hard to believe that Marjorie would actually go along with that.

But then: “Gah! Goo…guh…ba-buh…”

Holy fuck. My cock was so hard that I was worried I might explode out of my pants. And judging by the lusty gaze of Heidi, she was going through something similar.

“What now, Mommy?” I said to Heidi.

The look that she gave me then–I could never describe it well enough. Just…complete and utter satisfaction.

“I think I need to nurse the baby with my tits,” Heidi said. “What do you think, Daddy? Think you can fuck her?”

“I think I can handle that.”

“Mm-mm,” Marjorie said, reaching between her legs and covering up her wet pussy with her palm.

“She doesn't want that?” I asked.

“No,” Heidi said, smiling. “She doesn't want you in her pussy. She wants you in her ass.”

“Mmm,” Marjorie moaned, her hand sliding back to her side.

And so we all moved around atop the old bed. Soon, Marjorie was on her hands and knees–her face reaching forward so that she could wrap it around Heidi’s tit, while her ass was stuck straight up in the air so that I could slowly ease my stiff cock into it. With all pieces locked into place, we could only watch as Marjorie wriggled and shook between us–so overwhelmed by the pleasures at both ends that she could barely control herself.

Heidi’s fingers slid through Marjorie’s hair and stroked her cheeks. “That’s a good girl. Suckle on Mommy. You’re doing such a good job. Isn’t that nice?”

Meanwhile, I clumsily humped Marjorie’s ass. I had no doubt that we were both enjoying it immensely, though I was perpetually nervous that I was about to blow at any second–likely ending this fantastic ride.

“Daddy, you shouldn’t hold back,” Heidi said to me. “Just fill her up. That’s what she wants.”

“Mmmmm,” Marjorie moaned into Heidi’s breast, as if to respond herself.

My body already made its decision before I could put any more thought into it–this was it. I had to c*m.

I wanted to say something sexy and cute when it happened. Something like “Here’s something special for my little girl,” as I climaxed inside of her ass.

Instead, as I felt myself erupting deep within her bottom, I muttered a blob of incomprehensible drek. “Here’sss aaahhhh…speshhhh ig…irl…”

A chain reaction was set off. It was Heidi who’d be next. Unbeknownst to me sooner, one of Marjorie’s hands had found its way down the front of Heid’s pants, and whatever she was doing must’ve been working. Heidi was suddenly panting and moaning herself, her body collapsing back in the bed as a wet spot formed in the crotch of her jeans.

It would be Marjorie who would c*m last, her body finally overwhelmed by all the pleasures. I wasn’t entirely sure what pushed her over the edge–though I suspected that it might have been the feeling of me sliding my cock from her ass, and the feeling of what I left inside of her slowly dripping out. She rolled forward, landing on Heidi, her body writing and contorting as she blurted out one last line of baby babble: “Fuh-fuh-fuhhhhhh…shi…buh. Buh. Buhh…”

We remained on the bed for a while–a puddle of limbs and exhausted bodies. There was all sorts of wetness on us. It was hard to say what was what, or from where it had come from. But it didn’t seem like it had mattered either. We all needed this. As weird as the last few minutes had been–and as unlikely as we were to ever be able to explain it to someone else–it was exactly what each of us had wanted.

The next thing I remembered was waking up. It was late. It might have been late when we had come into the bedroom in the first place–I wasn’t sure anymore. Marjorie was still sleeping on the bed, and Heidi was slipping a new diaper underneath her.

“I didn’t mean to wake you,” Heidi said softly.

“You’re fine.”

“I need to get back to the farm,” she said to me. “Figured I might as well get her into a new diaper.”

“That’s a good idea,” I said. “You’re going to come back tomorrow though, right?”

She laughed. “I hadn’t really thought of that. You think I should?”

I nodded.

“Aren’t you worried it’s going to be a little awkward when we sober up a little?” Heidi asked.

“It might be,” I said. “I’m not worried about it though. So long as we don’t regret anything.”

“The fuck did General Mortimer do to me,” she said, shaking her head.

“You shouldn’t drive,” I said. “Just stay here.”

She stared down at the sleeping Marjorie, her thumb either still planted in her mouth, or having slipped back in again at some point as she slept.

“Okay,” Heidi said, nodding. “I’m going to have to go back to the farm tomorrow though. Early.”

“Fine, fine. A little sleep and you’ll be good to go.”

Just as quickly as I closed my eyes, I was opening them again–though the world suddenly seemed quite different. Bright sunlight poured into the room, seeming to reach every corner of it and bringing sharp pain to my eyes. Was this what my father woke up to every morning? Or did he at least have the sense to hang curtains?

Another thought: Did everything that happened last night happen in my father’s old bed? I didn’t love that.

“Where’s Heidi?” a groggy Marjorie asked, her body on its side facing away from me. I’m almost certain that we were spooning through most of the night–my midsection pressed into the diaper that Heidi had put her in.

“She had to go back to the farm. She’ll be here later, I’m sure.”

Marjorie nodded, adding: “I’m wet.”

“Did you wet yourself in your sleep?”

“I think. But…I don’t remember this diaper.”

“Heidi put that on you last night. It was really late and you were asleep.”

She blushed. “Oh man. That was…a wild night.”

A ran a hand through my hair, nervous that the light of day was going to make Marjorie realize she had made some big mistakes last night.

“It was,” I said. I was tempted to point out that I didn’t have any regrets–but I was worried that’d sound like I was fishing for her to say the same thing.

“I know we talked about reaching out to my mother today,” she said. “But…if we just stayed here at this cabin and just kept reliving last night over and over again? I’d be very happy with that.”

I exhaled with relief. “I…was thinking the same thing.”

I was tempted to offer to help with her current wet diaper, but I decided to give her some space. If she wanted my help, and she asked for it, I’d be there in a heartbeat. Otherwise, I just let it be.

Marjorie stayed in the bed as I tossed some clothes on–the same ones I wore the day before–and left the bedroom. I went to the kitchen to see if there was anything I could use for breakfast. As it turned out, Heidi had already thought ahead to this, leaving a carton of eggs in the fridge along with some butter. There was also a loaf of bread on the counter, and even some a jar of instant coffee. It wouldn’t be the best breakfast ever, but eggs and toast with some coffee sounded like it would hit the spot just fine.

It was at about this time that the front door of the cabin opened and a smiling Heidi waltzed in. While I didn’t expect her to be in a bad mood the next time I saw her, I wasn’t expecting this level of smugness on her face.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked, cracking some eggs into the hot pan on the stove.

“Last night wasn’t a good enough reason to be in a good mood?”

I laughed. “Well, sure.”

“Actually, I suppose I do have something else on my mind,” she said, strolling into the kitchen to fill the teakettle with some water from the tap. “But it’s related.”

“Alright, I’m curious. What else has got you all smiley today?”

“I just had this little idea this morning while I was shoveling out the goat pen.”

I shook my head. “If it involves goats, I’m out. I bet Marjorie would say the same.”

“No, no. It has nothing to do with actual goats…that’s just when I get all my good thinking in.”

“Okay, so?”

“Right. So, obviously we got Margie out of a bad situation. And, uh, you know–into a really good situation.”

“Sure.”

“But there’s something else I think we need to deal with.”

“Just spit it out.”

“Justice, Gus. Margie deserves justice.”

Justice. The word hits hard. Regardless of how I feel about Tradd County–regardless of my efforts to leave–I’ve still got that Tradd blood in me. And nothing gets that blood pumping like the idea of justice. Taking it upon yourself to right that which has been wronged.

I nodded.

“Dan,” she said. “We have to go find Dan.”

“And what do we do with him when we get him?”

But I already know the answer to this question. Still, I can’t wait to hear her say it.

Heidi smiled and shrugged. “Let the punishment fit the crime, I say.”