Pay Up, Baby! (Part 3) (Patreon)
Content
Possibly due to the brain trauma Ryan was still in shock when the game started up again. âLooking a little light on the scoreboard boys,â the hostess said as a stagehand wheeled a cart out. It was silver and upon it were three bottles filled with clear liquid. If their distinctive shape werenât enough, the rubber nipples on top were dead giveaways. âHow about another round to rack up the points?â
âNo.â It was Sam who spoke. âNo more bets. No more bidding. Iâm done. Get me out. I quit.â Everything about his body spoke of someone not used to confinement. Even with the highchair harness and restraints, his muscles bulged. His highchair started to shake and rock a bit from side to side. His so-called âMommyâ and a few stage hands rushed out to steady the chair.
In truth, Ryan was mildly surprised to see the big man break. Ryan would have thought that either himself or Tony would have been the first to have a major freak out. Goodness knows Ryan was toeing the line.
The showâs host held up her hands, palms out, in a calming gesture. âBetting? Betting? Who said anything about betting! We like to change it up here every now and then. Itâs time for a physical challenge!â
A renewed wave of energy rippled through the crowd. âAnd this is one that EVERYONE CAN WIN!â More applause as Molly Cawdle grabbed one of the bottles. âAll each of you has to do is drink one of these down. First one to drink theirs gets one hundred thirty thousand dollars. Second place gets ninety thousand dollars, and third place gets eighty thousand!â
âExcuse me,â Tony said as the applause died down. âOne hundred thirty thousand dollars? For drinking a bottle?â
âThat's correct!â Tony got another pinch on his cheek for his trouble. âIsnât he a smartie, ladies?â The cheers and coos seemed to agree.
âHow are we supposed to do that while restrained?â
A cheeky grin blossomed on the leading ladyâs face. âWhy, your Mommies will help you, of course! And you thought they were here just to look pretty for you.â That got a knowing chuckle from everyone not trapped in a highchair.
That much money being offered was enough to stoke Ryanâs greed over any sense of self-preservation. That was a combined three hundred thousand dollars all told! âWhatâs in them? Theyâuh cleah, but Iâm bettinâ itâs not watuh in them.â The young man grimaced at his own newly acquired speech impediment. Heâd known three year olds who talked better than him!
In reply, the hostess quickly unscrewed the caps on each (very large) baby bottle, took a sip, gargled, swallowed, then replaced the nipple. âJust water,â she said. âLook, I even gave you each a head start.â More laughter. âSo boys. Ready for the easiest money youâve ever made in your life? Or do you wanna go home hairless and broke?â
The three trapped men didnât look at each other. They didnât need to. Desperation, financial or otherwise, mustâve been a qualifier for contestants.
âAlright. Iâm in.â
âSure.â
âBwing it on.â
The bottles were handed off to the audience volunteers and held up to each of the boysâ lips. âOn your mark,â Molly said. âGet said. Drink!â
Ryanâs lips reached outward as his Mommy pushed it closer. The audience erupted, cheering and chanting. âGO! GO! GO! GO! GO!â Furiously he began to suckle as the water trickled into his mouth. For the first few pulls from the bottle, Ryanâs tongue braced itself for the bitter taste of some kind of chemical additive or nasty trick.
None came, however. It tasted like...water. At the confirmation Ryan suckled even harder, afraid that heâd lost time with hesitance. For over a hundred grand, Ryan could deal with a speech impediment. âThatâs right, baby!â Mommy Rose cheered. âDrink it all up!â She angled the bottle up a bit.
And he did. Quickly, he worked out a rhythm of breathing suckling and swallowing so that there was a steady flow gushing into his mouth at all times. He only stopped once, when his stomach insisted he must long enough to let out a massive belch.
âLooks like weâve got a self-burping baby!â Molly joked. Ryan just tried to ignore the ladyâs taunting and doubled down on his nursing.
Something felt off when Ryan was approaching the bottom of his bottle. He felt good. Really good. Almost like he was glowing. Everything felt fuzzy and edges of his vision developed little rainbows on the periphery. Such...pretty...colors...
Ryan had been drunk enough times in his life to draw the comparison, but it wasnât an apt one. This wasnât quite like that. It was both subtler and stronger. When Ryanâs appendix had burst heâd been rushed to the hospital. Theyâd given him the good shit there; better than morphine and infinitely harder to pronounce. This was more like that. A lot more.
âBut how?â he wondered even as he kept drinking. The host had sipped from all three bottles before screwing the nipples back on. Just as he was gurgling down the last of the water did something click. There was nothing in the water. But what if there was some kind of film or dust or chemical component inside the nipples? Just add water.
The thing about chemical alterations to oneâs brain is that it makes bad decisions much easier to make. Even as the rational part of his brain screamed out drowning in the euphoria, Ryan let out a silly grin, letting the last few droplets dribble out the corner of his mouth.
âYou like that, donât you baby?â Ryanâs Mommy asked. âRy-Ry loves his bottle.â Ryan didnât respond, but only because he was so focused on trying to finish.
âLooks like little Sammy was super thirsty!â Molly announced. âWe have a winner!â
âI WON!â Sammy screamed. âI WUUUUUUUUUN!â Ryan turned his head to see Sammy bouncing up and down in his highchair, craning his neck like a cock crowing at dawn.
Ryan drooped a bit, sagging his shoulders. He still felt amazing, but decided that he should at least look dejected...yâknow...to be a good sport. It was just so much easier to emote right then. He got a peck on the cheek for his troubles. âDonât worry,â Mommy Rose told him. âYouâll have another shot.â
Thatâs right, his drug added brain realized. He would. Game wasnât over yet. And even coming in third place put him at a hundred thousand dollars. Now he just had to make it through this game.
More bings and bongs and scores were updated. For some odd reason, (not that odd come to think of it) Ryan didnât care too much about how much money heâd earned. Heâd already earned enough as it was. All he had to do for the rest of the game was bid low, not get disqualified and walk out of here as whole as possible.
It didnât seem so bad in the moment that he had a speech impediment, couldnât swear, and was almost completely hairless. Mommy Rose certainly seemed to like him better as the game continued. Why? Maybe she was a gold digger or something. Ryan didnât much care just then. He didnât have to.
âNow that weâve all had some refreshments,â Molly joked, âLetâs go back to bidding. Shall we boys?â All three lazily giggled and nodded their consent. This was some good shit! âOkay then. Then the amount weâre bidding on passes tooooooooâŠ.â she paused. âBaby Ry-Ry!â
Ryan was so stoned out of his gourd he didnât care that his entire name had been butchered and infantilized. âFohty...thousand,â he slurred. The money amount slid away as the Ryan read âPotty twaining?â Had his vision become as fucked up as his speech?
Thunderous cheering erupted from the audience. âFirst bid goes to Ryan!â
Ryan blinked. His entire face felt kind of numb, not to mention the rest of him. âWhat am I bidding?â
âHow potty trained do you want to be?â Molly asked. âA simple bed wetter? Daytime accidents? Pull-Ups?â Of course, you could always opt out and lose all of the money you just won by drinking your ba-ba all down.â
A tap on Ryanâs shoulder alerted him to the beautiful redhead heâs handpicked to be his Mommy. âBet big,â she said. âScare them into being too afraid to escalate.â
Mommy Rose has a point. Thatâs how Ryan had won before. Now that he was first to bid, he could up the ante from the very beginning. Besides, based on the audience reactions and the decor, this is what everyone was looking forward to most. Not a single enlarged box of Pull-Ups was on stage. That meant something.
Fuck it. âI wanna be unpotty twained!â Ryan declared. Give the people what they want. âDiapuhs twenty-foh seven.â The gasp from the assembled women was one of pure delight.
âIâm so proud of you!â Mommy Rose cooed seductively in his ear. âYou wonât regret this I promise.â That promise was almost immediately broken.
âThe fudge?!â Sammy cried out. âThatâs no fair!â
âHow can we lose MORE than everything?â Tony added.
Molly Cawdle pressed a finger into her ear. âJudges?â she asked. Her gaze went into the middle distance as someone in a booth told her what to say next. Her mouth twerked in amusement at what she heard based on whatever the producer/judges were telling her.
âBecause of Ry-Ryâs...unorthodox bidâŠâ Molly said into her microphone. âLittle Sammy, and Tony are going to be allowed to match the bid. If they do, theyâll split the fifty thousand dollars among them.â
âAlright,â Tony said, earning a kiss from the woman heâd picked to Mommy him. âIâll do it.â
âFudge it...Iâm in.â
âCongratulations. All of you split the pot!â
Now it was Ryanâs turn to shout âNo fair!â
âIt might not be fair,â the showâs host said, âbut itâs what weâre going with! Now, itâs time toooooâŠâ
âPAY UP, BABY!â
The privacy curtain didnât come out this time. The quasi-medical crew rushed the stage again, tilting their giant high-chairs back. Instead of an operating table, it was officially a changing table. He heard a muted click as the barrier between his legs was slid out, leaving him laying down spread eagle.
Drugged out of his mind and with a highchairâs feeding tray separating his chest from the rest of his body, Ryan felt almost completely divorced from the bottom of half of his waist. He wasnât quite numb enough to notice that his pants were being taken off for him. The hoots and hollers from the audience didnât help matters either.
âNow,â Molly Cawdle said, addressing the three women whoâd been selected, âHereâs the question that weâve been dying to find out. What kind of diapers will your baby boys be wearing?â
Each of the women took their turn at the microphone, giving answers that could have doubled as commercials; their tone and tempo of speaking like something out of a beauty pageant. (Which made sense enough; everyone in the audience seemed like they might have experience in such things)
âI want Huggies for my little Ry-Ry,â Mommy Rose could be heard saying. âTheyâre very good on leaks and theyâre perfume free.â
âOne Huggies, Size nine!â Molly ordered with all the flare of a circus ringmaster.
Tonyâs Mommy said, âI think Tony would look absolutely adorable in Pampers. I especially like how they have a filter for keeping messies away from his skin so he doesnât get a rash.â
âGet her a Pampers size eight!â
âYou know what they say. Live and learn. Then get Luvs. I think Sammy looks good in purple and Luvs holds everything in just fine.â
âYou heard the new Mommy!â Molly called. âLuvs, size ten.â
As this bit of pageantry was going on in the forefront, the real work was going on in the background. Ryan saw his feet for the first time since he woke up when they were lifted up past the feeding tray. A sense of fullness invaded him as a rod entered his behind, causing his toes to curl.
He felt, more than heard, the whoosh, like a pneumatic tube as something-some kind of pill maybe-was shot directly up his anus. The slaps to his ass didnât sting in a way he could feel, but they did cause his buttocks to clench and his asshole to pucker in. Whatever they put in wasnât coming out.
Ryan and company were given the mercy of not seeing the medical implements for the first part. They werenât lucky enough, for the second part. Was that a roto rooter? For what? His penis? The claw at the end of the strange little contraption held a tiny little rock, no bigger than a kidney stone. Only itâs translucent gel like surface told Ryan that it wasnât a kidney stone.
âNo-no-no-no!â Tony screamed. âSTOP! STOP! I TAKE IT BACK!â
Sammy was no better. âI CHANGED MY MIND!â
âToo late for that, boys! Thereâs only a few things that are going to be changed in your future, and your mind isnât one of them.â Everyone BUT the three men loved that line. Ryan screamed. Not because it hurt-it was a numb discomfort like at a dentistâs visit-but because his drug addled brain just realized what was happening to him.
âSOME OF YOU MAYBE WONDERING HOW WEâRE UNPOTTY TRAINING THESE THREE SO FAST. THE ANSWER IS SIMPLE: BETTER LIVING THROUGH CHEMISTRY. ALMA MATER INTERNATIONALâS UNIQUE BLEND OF PROPRIETARY CHEMICALS HAVE BEEN INSERTED INTO THEIR RECTUMS AND DOWN INTO THEIR BLADDERS, DISSOLVING, NUMBING, AND WEAKENING THEIR SPHINCTERS. THESE FAST ACTING INGREDIENTS MAKE IT SO THAT THESE LITTLE DARLINGS WILL HAVE NO CONTROL OVER WHEN THEY MAKE PEE-PEEâS AND BOOMBOOMS! THEY WONâT EVEN KNOW THEYâRE GOING UNTIL IT COMES OUT OF THEM!
More music piped in over the speakers combined with Mollyâs schpiel to cover up the sound of steel cables snaking into and down the victimâs genitals and their crying shrieks.
By the time everything had been inserted, each of the three women invited on stage had a very large looking baby diaper in their hands. âNow ladies,â Molly said get those diapers on, stat! Youâve got three tykes who are no where NEAR potty trained...anymore.â
âThe heck?â Ryan gasped as the strange redhead came over and lifted his ankles back up to the ceiling. âHow awe you so stwong?!â
âHold on, baby boy,â Rose said. She was focusing intently on slipping the gigantic Huggies beneath him. âMommyâs new at this. Donât want any leaks.â The feeling was just starting to return to Ryanâs backside as his rump came down on the soft padding. âYouâre doing so good.â she cooed.
A stagehand offered a bottle of baby powder, which she accepted. The feeling in his skin was returned enough that he felt the cold puff of scented cornstarch as it was added to his crotch.
âWHOOPS!â Ryan heard Molly exclaim over the microphone. âLOOKS LIKE OUR FAST ACTING INGREDIENTS WORKED REALLY FAST WITH TONY! CAN WE GET ANOTHER PAMPERS OVER HERE? SIZE EIGHT? THANK YOU!â
Ryan felt the brittle crackling as the diaper shifted beneath him. He followed Roseâs arms as she yanked up the front of the diaper over his waist. Had those patches been on her arms beforehand? Ryan didnât think so. He felt the diaper wrap around him and take shape as the tapes were fastened to the landing zone. Heâd been right. He could definitely tell the difference between wearing shorts and a diaper.
âDo I at least get my pants back?â Ryan pleaded when the deed was done.
His new Mommy giggled. âI donât think theyâll fit over your diaper, baby.â Then she leaned in and gave him a kiss. âIâm so proud of you.â The drugged bottle out of his system, neither the kiss nor the words had the same effect.
âThat was exciting, wasnât it folks?â Molly asked. Everyone not confined to disposable underwear for the rest of their lives enthusiastically agreed. The three who were just sulked as their highchairs were tilted back up.
âI quit!â Tony roared. Barefeet thrashed and kicked. âI quit! I quit! I quit! Iâm not bidding! Iâm not playing! I donât want the money! I canât even control when I go pee!â
âThatâs what diapers are for, Tony.â
âI DONâT CARE!â Bald and trapped in the highchair as he was, Tony didnât look like he was having a meltdown to Ryan as much as he was throwing a temper tantrum. âThe rules say that if I quit, I lose all the money. Fine. I quit! Get me out of this thing!â
âSomeone sure is fussy!â Molly joked to knowing laughter and applause for the audience.
âSTOP IT!â
âBut Tony,â she replied with a wink towards the camera. âIf you give up now, you wonât be able to bid on our biggest prize so far.â She motioned. âOur last prize. And our last prize...is priceless.â
She gestured over to the clue board. All other monetary values were replaced. Only one category remained.
JACKPOT
âIf you opt out now, Tony,â Molly said menacingly, âYou go out on your cute little tushy. If you manage to find your way back home, your Mom and Dad will a tastefully edited tape of this episode in their inbox. Think theyâll take you back with no money? Theyâre already considering evicting youâŠ.â
The front of Ryanâs giant sized Huggies became wet as his bladder released in time with the game show hostâs sudden change in demeanor? Coincidence? Perhaps. As promised heâd had no idea that the bottle had worked its way through his system until his bladder released it gushing and without hesitation into his crinkling baby pants.
Right then another thought occurred to Ryan: He couldnât go home, either. Not like this. He was barely making rent and eating. How would he manage to afford diapers for himself? Long story short; without the money, he couldnât.
Sammy bowed his head and just kept sucking on his pacifier. Tony did the same. It appeared as if they were all in the same sinking ship with nothing to do but try and tread water.
Another cart, this one with oversized jars of baby food was wheeled out. âBut before we go to our, final round. I think itâs time for a little snack. Donât you?â Nobody said anything. All just kept quiet, sucking on their pacifiers, letting the numbness fill them again. Ryan knew theyâd need it.
Bibs found their way across all threeâs chests. And the three women whoâd been picked out of the audience took the jars and placed them on their respective feeding trays. âBe good boys and finish your num-nums. Whoever finishes first gets the first bid! And you all know how important that can be!â
âYou can do this,â Rose whispered to him. âI know you can!â Small comfort.
âOn your mark! Get set! Goooooo!â
The audience set to clapping as spoonful after spoonful of reddish brown mush on plastic spoons made their way into the boysâ mouths. It wasnât tasteless either, Ryan discovered. More like a burning jalapeno cinnamon.
Each spoonful caused his mouth to burn in agony. Still, he swallowed. Ryan looked to his periphery to see that Tony and Sammy were reflexively spitting the stuff out, letting it dribble out of their mouths.
It did them no good. Their dribbles were caught by their Mommiesâ spoons and reinserted back into their mouth. Their pain was only slowing them down. âYouâre such a good eater!â Rose praised. It took everything he had not to roll his eyes and just keep muscling through the pain.
The pain didnât last long, however. Instead a kind of numbness, like anesthetic, spread all through Ryanâs mouth. Flaming hot and spicy, replaced with a cold numbness. The exact opposite of icy hot. Something was definitely in this stuff. âCareful,â Mommy Rose cooed. Ryan felt the spoon scoop up some of his own numb mouth dribbles. âMake sure you swallow one bite before you open your mouth for the next.â Damn it.
A dozen more spoonfuls and a new pain worked its way into Ryanâs system. Whatever had been injected into him made it so that he wouldnât be able to hold anything in; but that didnât mean he couldnât feel the cramps. The express train to the backseat of his diaper was pulling out of the station.
Ryan couldnât stop. He didnât have time to stop. He had to win. He had to get this first bet...aim high enough on whatever they were doing so that he might actually be able to walk away! Another wave of cramps hit Ryan and he leaned forward, right into the next spoonful.
âGood baby!â Mommy Rose said. âSuch a good eater.â
Ryan didnât feel his backside pushing out the mess, but he felt everything else: He felt the bottoms of his feet push against the foot rest a little more as his body automatically reacted to the discomfort and cramps. He felt the cramps and pressure in his gut subside. He felt his cheeks spread and the hot mess push out into the back of his diaper; pushing and pushing until the Huggies had no more give, then spreading out. He felt his knees buckle as he swallowed another spoonful of mush and his backside come all the way back down onto the seat, spreading around.
âMakinâ room?â Mommy Rosie asked. âThatâs fine! Iâll change you later, baby!â
He wasnât done either. Again. And again. And again. Ryan leaned forward as far as he could just to get that spoonful of faux baby food into his mouth. Time and again, heâd lose strength and be yanked back into his mushy diaper. A few times, the cramps came again, and another load was added to the pile.
By the time he was done, Ryan had felt he was sitting an entire inch higher than he had been. He wasnât alone, either. Tony had let out a wailing âNOOOOOOOOOO!â and fortunately for him, big bad Sammy had maintained his ability to say âShitâ.
Ryan had only opened his mouth to take in more of the numbing food. Worth it.
âWE HAVE A WINNER!â
Rose held her clean jar as proof. Ryan leaned back in his chair and groaned. The stuff heâd just eaten had all sunk to the bottom of his stomach, like a rock. He let out a low groan that started to turn into a drone. This stuff...it did more than numb his mouth it seemed. The world was no longer looking so bright and happy. More like dark...and quietâŠ
More than anything, shitty diaper or not, Ryan wanted to sleep. Groans from the runners up, confirmed it.
âUh-oh...looks like somebodyâs ready for naptime.â Molly Cawdle declared. She sniffed loudly into her microphone. âAnd a change!â It was the manic, cackling laughter from the audience- Romans watching slaves fed to the lions- that kept Ryan conscious. Heâd been experimented on...bottle and spoonfed...even shit himself in front of these strangers. He wouldnât give them the satisfaction of passing out in front of them.
Molly gestured back to the faux refrigerator. âSo letâs see how weâre going to wrap this game up. What do our baby boys have to bargain with to get their Jackpot to make this all worth wild?â The âJackpotâ sign moved, and itâs place was a single word.
Teeth.
They were bidding on teeth. Reflexively, Ryan ran his tongue along his mouth; or at least thought about it. He couldnât tell at all, he was so numb. And no wonder. They were made high to think that bargaining away their continence was a good idea. âSo hereâs the game, baby boys.â The hostess said. âYouâre bidding on teeth. BUT thereâs a twist. IF thereâs a tie, everyone who ties, loses.â
The microphone made its way to him. SHIT! Now if he bid high out of the gate, he was at a disadvantage. Then an idea came to him. It might have been madness. It might have been his drugged drowsiness, but Ryan thought he might have a way to win. First to get everyone on the board. âAll but two teeth,â he said. âFoh gwaham cwackuhs.â Then he let out a long yawn.
âAWWWWWWWW!â Perfect. Rose was applauding loudest of all. She was already imagining him as a buck toothed toddler. They were buying it. The rules didnât matter. The crazy people did. Ryan hoped anyways. Damn it was hard to keep his eyes open.
âAll but one tooth,â Sammy said.
A smirk came over Tony. âAll my teeth. Take them. Iâll get dentures.â
âLooks like we have a winner! So get ready to-â
âWAAAAAAAAAAIT!â Ryan yelled. âI wanna bid again!â The words came out drunken and slurred. It was taking everything he had to get the words out intelligibly.
Molly Cawdle arched an eyebrow. âYou want to tie? If you tie youâll lose everything. You know that, right sweetie?â
Ryan nodded. âUh-huh.â He said. âI bid all my teeth too!â
âSo itâs a tie.â
Ryan shook his head. âNuh-uh. I have extra teeth!â He opened his mouth wide. He never did have the money to get his wisdom teeth removed. âAll thirty two!â
âB-b-b-but!â Tony stuttered. âThatâs not fair!â It wasnât. At no other time had how much lost counted; only what was left.
Molly seemed to consider. âHmmmâŠ.â
âAnd Iâll give up solids! Liquid diet!â
âWE HAVE A WINNER!â
Good. Baby Ry-Ry lulled his head to the side, his eyes drooping even as his chair was laid back. The sounds of Tony and Sammy screaming became so much white noise as he was swarmed by med-teams wielding pliers and power tools. He closed his eyes. He was sure he didnât want to be awake for thisâŠ.
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âGood morning, Ry-Ry!â Mommy cooed.
Ryanâs eyes fluttered up. The side of the crib was already down. âMohninâ MommyâŠâ
âDid you sleep, well?â she asked, unbuttoning his onesie for him and hiking it over his hips. She didnât wait for him to reply before lifting him up and plopping him on the adult sized changing table. Mommy was strong now. All the steroids and muscle enhancements theyâd given her thanks to the prize winnings had made it so.
Mommy undid the tapes of his Huggies, Size 9 and started wiping his bottom for him. âYou were mumbling something in your sleep. Was it a nightmare?â
Yes.
âNo.â It was a memory. An awful memory that plagued him everytime he could bother to remember his dreams. Heâd won everything alright. Half a million dollars wasnât THAT much compared to Gates and Bezos. But it was enough to furnish the nursery he woke up in every day. It paid for at least the first year of diapers, though the one being slid under his bum was far removed from that. And it paid for the final few bits of surgery that he and Tony and Sammy hadnât been greedy or desperate enough to get coaxed into. Bye bye inner ear balance. Ry-Ry was a full time crawler now. He really did need to sleep in his crib.
What Ryan never had noticed...what he should have noticed...that under the terms and services of signing up for the show, carefully couched in coded legalese, was the âunderstandingâ that he had no right to spend. His âchosen guardian who had complete power of attorneyâ over him had all the spending power.
As Mommy finished powdering and taping up the umpteenth million diaper, Ryan relived that horrible incident forever burned into his memory. He always wondered what happened to those guys. Heâd never seen them again. Not at the adult baby daycare heâd been plopped into. None of the playdates with Mommyâs friends or their âlittle boysâ. Nowhere. Part of him hoped theyâd been let go...but he knew otherwise.
No one ever really won âPay Up, Baby!â. Not unless they were selected from the audience.
âReady for your breakfast?â Mommy asked, picking Ry-Ry up and taking him over to the nurseryâs rocking chair.
No.
âUh-huh.â It wasnât just the muscle enhancers, Ryan admitted. Heâd lost weight too. A lot of weight. It was hard to keep weight up on a liquid diet, no matter how caloric it otherwise was.
âSay please.â
âPweeeash.â It was hard to say the âsâ and the âlâ sounds with no teeth.
Mommy was already opening up her nursing bra. âSay pretty please.â
âPwetty pweash.â
âGood baby.â Mommyâs milky tit came straight for Ry-Ryâs face. And Ry-Ry did what heâd always done. He had no other choice. And besides, he was hungry. He suckled. Suckled and criCed.
(The End)