RR Lori Warren - Chapter 28 (Patreon)

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RR Lori Warren - Chapter 28

Chapter 28 - Promises

[October 25th, 2005]

Michael's sense of time dissolved into a murky abyss as he grappled with the darkness enveloping him. Was it minutes ticking by like agonizing eternities, or mere seconds slipping through his tiny fingers like grains of sand? He couldn't discern reality from the relentless passage of time. Lori usually left the drawer open a crack so that Michael could have at least some light, but apparently she saw fit to punish him even further…for something that wasn’t even his fault.

No part of him wanted to go in that heat box.

No part of him wanted to fall into that laundry hamper.

No part of him wanted to jump out to avoid being washed, landing in Lori’s busty daughter’s bra cup.

And no part of him wanted to be pinned under the dirty socked foot of her other daughter.

And yet somehow this was all his fault.

In the suffocating darkness of Lori's underwear drawer, Michael began looking for food. On his hands and knees, he navigated a labyrinth of fabrics, occasionally losing himself in the intricate folds and creases. Thick woolen fibers teased at his fingertips, rough against his face and naked body—Lori's socks.

He wriggled through the pleasant but overwhelming fragrance of laundry detergent and fabric softener, his surroundings transitioning from course threading to delicate mesh. The soft caress of nylon and spandex wrapped around his limbs like a gentle embrace. It was Lori’s pantyhose, and he could clearly tell that this pair had been returned to the drawer after a day’s use.  Michael shuddered. Maybe two.

But it was the towering structures he encountered..or better yet, tumbled into next that humbled a man already so very humbled—the velvety soft domes that rose like ancient monuments, scarcely decorated in a few photons of light, nearest to the near-absent gap closest to the edge of the underwear drawer. Soft yet resolute, their contours spoke of feminine strength and grace. It was Lori’s bra.  Or more precisely, one of her bra cups that Michael was now centered within.  Their formidable presence alone was intimidating enough in their gargantuan size and femininity, but the bra was a larger testament to the woman whose world he now inhabited.

As he traversed the intricate landscape of Lori's intimates, Michael's senses were heightened as he sought to satisfy his craving for food and water. Finally, he inevitably stumbled upon--and quite literally into--the corner where Lori had left his water.

It was a bitter-sweet moment for Michael, as he had to contend with the fact that the filth covering his body had flavored the water to match how he smelled: mostly like the dark depths of Lori’s ass crack as well as minor hints of Lori’s daughter’s socked foot.  Still, the water soothed his cracking lips and arid palette so he greedily accepted it into his begging stomach.

Lori had left him no food but he managed to find a few crumbs, left from previous feedings at a time when Lori wasn’t quite so furious with him.  After getting his fill, Michael traced his steps back to Lori’s warm wool socks.  He nuzzled up inside of one that he confirmed to be freshly washed and clean, burrowing into it like a massive sleeping blanket.  He tried to fall asleep, if for no other reason than to pass the time.  Hours, he hoped, were going by as he tried to fast-forward to something more stimulating than this dark drawer.  He occupied his mind with thoughts about all of his favorite foods.  He hoped he’d get to eat each one again one day; this whole pretzel thing was getting pretty old.

He sang aloud the songs he grew up cranking in his car with his friends, the oldies his parents would listen to when taking him to the grocery store, the ones he’d have playing on the radio when he fucked his girlfriends in the backseat of his Pontiac Firebird.  He wondered where each of those girls were now...probably doing better than he was.  He tried reciting his favorite movies from start to finish.  He tried to remember all the classes he’d taken for his two degrees and put them in sequential order.  Hunger had returned to haunt him and he didn’t have the energy to again traverse the undergarment terrain to blindly search for crumbs. Michael might have noticed his vision beginning to narrow had he not already been entombed in such darkness.

Somewhere between 10 minutes and 500 years later, Michael was abruptly pulled out of the scene in Jurassic Park where Dr. Satler turns on the T-Rex perimeter fencing.  Oh, how lucky she was.  All she had to do was find the way out.  Michael’s dinosaur was so much bigger…and had an ass so much fatter.

Speaking of which, Michael heard the door knob to Lori’s room being tested again. Just like before, there was a dull clang as the brass knob stopped against the locking mechanism.  This time, however, he heard the faint sound of a key inserting into the locking mechanism.  Then the squeaky doorknob turned fully.  The door was open.  Michael’s heart leapt from his chest.

He was no longer alone in the room.

Michael tried to scurry out of the sock but in the confusing darkness, he only burrowed deeper until he hit the toe of the sock.  Frustrated and panicking, he turned around and finally found his way out. He heard the heavy footsteps coming toward him, like rumbling thunder.  He braced himself for an abrupt opening of the drawer, and the heavy footsteps were nearly deafening now...but then they started getting quieter.  Whoever those footsteps belonged to was now walking past his dark prison.

He heard the sound of Lori’s mattress springs groaning under stress and then the ruffling of papers.  There was nothing he could do except listen and try to understand what the person was doing.  It was very quiet for a few more moments and then the papers crinkled again as they were set down.  Then the mattress groaned again and the footsteps were back.  They were once again getting louder.  Even louder.  The last step sounded like it landed right outside of his drawer and now it was quiet.  What was about to happen?  Whose face was he going to see?

A scrolling marquee of images ran through Michael’s racing mind.  The innocent-looking girl with braces and the remarkably huge tits looking down at him, a curious smirk across her cute face.  The oldest one, decked out in preppy Hollister and American Eagle, looking down at him with disgust and then a strange intrigue.

Or maybe it’d be “Lori JR”, the terrifying one with the neon green socks..those socks that were bright green on the tops and dingy under the toes where he had been wedged and imprisoned in their natural curl.

And then, there was Lori.  He couldn’t believe how strongly he ached to see her face.

As he heard skin slide against brass and the shifting of the drawer, he prayed for it to be her.  As the drawer began to slide against its track, he found himself even praying directly to Lori...as if she were some omnipotent goddess.  A loud thud could be heard as the drawer reached the end of the track and blinding light rushed in, assaulting Michael’s eyes and forcing him to stumble forward.

“Let’s go.”

It was all she said as she held out a hand, the weight of it easily collapsing one of the gargantuan bra cups Michael had climbed over earlier that day. When Michael’s eyes finally adjusted to the bombardment of light, he thought Lori looked like an angel above him. The ceiling fan’s light surrounded her head as if she were a saint.  Considering who else could have been staring down at him right now, she was certainly the most “saintly” as far as he was concerned.

Still, his last exchange with her had been anything but pleasant...and that was saying a lot.  He reluctantly approached and Lori cleared her throat loudly, which jolted the apprehensive Michael into a sprint.  He threw his body into her soft palm and her meaty fingers closed around him instantly.  He felt his stomach doing flips as she lifted him out of the drawer and up to her face.  The warmth of her soft skin felt incredible against his cold body.

“Now I want you to listen to me very closely, Michael.  I am only going to ask you this one...more...time.” Lori said sternly and Michael was filled with dread and uncertainty.  “What were you doing outside of your heatbox where I left you? What were you doing in the living room with my daughters?

He swallowed dryly. How in god’s name could Michael answer this?  What was he supposed to say?  Nothing in his life had prepared him for such an important question, for answering it was not so simple as telling the truth.  What was the truth? It was actually very simple. The truth was that before her shower, Lori set the heatbox containing Michael down on her nightstand.  She did not place it on the center of the nightstand though; she placed it right on the edge.

How did he know she placed his heatbox right on the edge of the nightstand?

He knew because the second he felt his box contact the wooden surface of the nightstand, he was sent into a disorienting series of flips before landing with a harmless and soft thud into the laundry hamper below.

How did he know he’d fallen into the laundry hamper?

He knew because with all his might, Michael somehow managed to open the flap of his heatbox and see that he was in fact surrounded by bright undergarments.

Michael would admit to himself that Lori did take care of him.  He would be dead by now if that were not the case.  However, she was anything but immune to forgetfulness.  He couldn’t count how many times he’d have to go hungry because she forgot to feed him.  Sure, she’d spent hours and days training him to recognize the pattern by which she’d bounce her fat, disgusting ass cheeks to get him to squirm for him, but she didn’t bother developing a way for him to open a line of communication with her.  Struggling sure didn’t work either.  She’d either completely ignore it, bounce her cheeks to make him stop, or he’d feel a finger enter her crack and bully him deeper.

The point was this: Michael knew in that moment that he couldn’t count on Lori to spot the heatbox in the hamper.  Hell, he couldn’t really even count on her to notice that he was in the hamper, he only hoped that Lori might see him in there as he waived his arms and shouted for her.  He waited as patiently as he could as she showered, confirming for sure that there was no way he could climb out on his own. He dared not venture too far down into the mass of worn laundry to see if there were holes at the bottom of the hamper.  What if the laundry became too heavy for him? Could he venture to the edge?  If it were not so high he might try, but even so he ran the risk of some kind of shifting undergarment avalanche. He’d then find himself buried under laundry unable to get Lori’s attention. It was almost comfortably clear what he had to do.  He had to wait.

Once the bathroom door opened and the steam followed Lori out, Michael stood up and began trying to get Lori’s attention.  He waived up at her looming figure as if he were a desert castaway and she was a rescue plane.  The toweled mother did not notice him, but she did notice the lack of heatbox on the dresser.  He continued to shout for her as she began looking for him.  He became increasingly and proportionally frantic as the seconds passed.  The tallest point of the heap of laundry was a striped ankle sock.  Michael had been standing above it and was now tumbling off it as Lori roughly shifted the hamper out of the way.

When Lori dropped to her knees to look under the bed, Michael looked up in awe at her enormous bare ass. Never had he witnessed an ass–despite its cellulite and unpleasant paleness–just so perfectly and objectively round.  He watched the fleshy spheres part and a few droplets fell into the hamper, one falling close enough for him to see it seep into the dry cotton of the striped sock.  He couldn’t believe that he was staring up at Lori’s exposed crack and was wishing he could be there.  At least there he knew he was safe. As horrifying and disgusting as those fat ass cheeks were, he knew that they protected him.  He knew what fate waited for him if he wasn’t found by Lori. The undersides of her plush ass cheeks disappeared  when she turned back around and walked toward the door.

Michael heard Lori shout “Isabella”.  He assumed it was one of Lori’s daughters but he didn’t know which one.  Michael continued to scream and flail, stuck in a tangled mess of dirty laundry and he only managed to climb up out of it as Lori left the room.  He had made his way back up the mountainous terrain, trying to find the highest point when Lori came back. This time, she bent at the waist and Michael was sure she’d seen him and was coming in to get him.  His heart leaped into his chest as she got closer and closer.  Did she see him?

Nope.

Lori roughly picked up the hamper, shuffling the clothing again, resetting the terrain and trapping Michael under several layers of panties, socks, t-shirts, and bras.  The scent was a strange, confusing concoction that he did not recognize as Lori’s.  As someone who had become nearly an expert on the scents of Lori’s body, he felt confident in asserting that this was not her laundry.  His brain felt fuzzy in the intoxicating cloud that consisted of faded laundry detergent, several unique and distinct perfumes, deodorants, and lotions.  The strongest scent of the cloud was of several more natural scents, one of which he would find himself surrounded by soon enough in the form of a teenager’s neon green sock.

The way Lori carelessly bounced the hamper in her strong grip caused the undergarments to constantly shift under, around, and above Michael.  It exposed new pockets of scent and concealed others. He saw light spectrums resembling kaleidoscope projections due to the ever-changing cotton obstacles between his eyes and the light source overhead.   He felt like he was sinking into quicksand.  Making his way up through the quicksand was about as easy as one might think it’d be. He slowly gained footing but would very quickly lose it  Eventually, the rhythmic bouncing of his new laundry-laced world was punctuated by a strong thud and then no movement at all.  He heard rustling of clothing overhead and an impossibly loud slamming sound and a buzzer... and then heavy footsteps getting further away.

Climbing out from under all the dirty laundry was now much easier, but when he made it to the top, he saw that he was all alone.  Directly ahead and above him were enormous, world-sized white boxes that he deduced must have been a washer and a dryer.  He was in Lori’s laundry room!  Everything seemed so large and so far away; to compare the room to the world’s most comically large airplane hangar would have not fully captured the size.  One of the enormous white boxes was vibrating; clearly Lori had already started a load of laundry, and the one he was swimming in could be next.  He was scared and cold and just wanted to get back to Lori, back where it was safe...even if it meant being tucked away in her butt.

Michael heard off in the distance the sound of giggling and loud music.  As terrified as he was, he knew what he had to do.  If Lori hadn’t noticed him yet, she wasn’t going to notice him. He had tried once and now he was in the laundry room.  He would have only one more chance to get her attention and if he didn’t, he’d end up in the washing machine.  He had to get to that giggling.  Maybe Lori was with them.  Maybe she wasn’t, but Michael had decided he needed to get to that giggling. He needed to get to Lori’s daughters.

Luck wasn’t often on his side these days, in fact it felt as if luck actively and sadistically conspired against him.  In a favorable turn of fate, Michael noticed that the ever-evolving landscape of laundry had settled into a steadily increasing slope of bright colors, polka dots, stripes, hearts, and logos that actually looked traversable.  More importantly, the slope continued to increase all the way up to the edge of the shallow laundry basket. He climbed up to the edge and once at the top, he looked down.

God truly must have been smiling down on him at this moment as he stared down the cliff’s edge of the laundry basket.  It seemed like a several hundred foot drop. At the bottom, directly where would be his landing zone had he jumped, was a bra.  It was black with light pink polka dots and it definitely wasn’t one of Lori’s bras.  This one was much bigger than hers.  Of all the undergarments that could have toppled out of the basket, the one that laid there below him would serve as the perfect cushion to catch his fall.

It was even facing down, which would mean if he aimed correctly, he would land in the super-soft inner lining of one of the deep cups.  Michael didn’t spend time thinking or psyching himself up. He leaped with optimistic faith and landed with a gentle bounce directly in the center of the massive cup.  And if that cup could support a boob that freakishly big, it could sure as hell catch something as tiny as him.  The cushion was super soft and the aroma of coconuts that he’d picked up hints of throughout the hamper was now thick and prominent. The only thing missing was some residual body heat...something his cold naked body desperately craved, but surely it had been hours or even days since the teen had taken it off.

Once out of the black and pink bra cup, Michael continued with trepidation across the expansive, cold linoleum floor. He feared the unknown...there could be pets, there could be bugs, one of her daughters or even Lori herself could decide to walk out here and accidentally step on him.  Of course, he managed to make it to Lori’s daughters but he did not receive the warm welcome he expected.

He was sent flying by the innocent girl who’s well-worn bra had caught his fall.  He scanned wildly for Lori.  He needed to get back to her.  Had she appeared before him, bare ass cheeks parted, he would have eagerly dove in.  He wanted to run to her when Lori entered the room, two of Lori’s daughters towering menacingly over him while the innocent one huddled up on the couch.

Michael had never felt so vulnerable in his entire life, staring up at this teenage girl who stood towers and towers taller than him.  He didn’t stand a chance against her.  He cried for Lori as the daughter who looked just like her, Lori JR, said something to her sister and then lifted her foot.  Michael clumsily stumbled and fell, watching as toes crashed through his sky and curled over him, pressing him firmly between the dingy neon green and the plush gray carpet.

If only the seemingly sweet, innocent-looking girl with the huge tits had not freaked out and kicked him when she saw him.  If only she had bent down and picked him up gently...he could have explained that he was only trying to get back to her mother–or really, while he was at it, maybe to a police officer but that’s neither here nor there.

Neither of those girls were here now.  Michael had since been rescued from the plush but imposing toes of Lori’s daughter, not to mention the young, fascinated eyes and the gaping, young mouths that had so many embarrassing questions... and now he stared up into Lori’s eyes trying to think of what to say.  Michael took a deep breath from the relative safety of Lori’s palm as she stared down at him, anger growing slowly on her face in the silence.

Michael had tried telling her the truth before and she wouldn’t have any of it.  Michael saw how it all looked and he honestly didn’t blame her for seeing it the way she did.  While he was being charitable, he even admitted to himself that he didn’t blame the big-breasted teen for mistaking him for a bug.  He felt closer to being a bug than being a human these days anyway. Michael was interested in doing what was best for him in this situation.  Michael wanted this to be over and figured the fastest way to get through this ordeal and back to normal was to play the game, and at this monumentally important fork in the road, Michael decided the route marked “TRUTH” was not the correct path.

Ironically enough, the lie was much more elegant, concise, and believable than the truth.  It rolled off Michael’s tongue with ease…but it still hurt him to the core of his soul to say it.

“I…I was afraid, Lori.  I’m sorry…I was trying to…get help.” Michael admitted to everything.  Shifting the heatbox over the edge himself and his plan went awry when he was discovered by Lori’s daughters.

Lori sighed deeply.  “Thank you for telling me.  You did the right thing, Michael.”

Michael felt ready to vomit. He could never go back in time to take the other route.  He looked over his shoulder at the route marker labeled “TRUTH” and wondered where that path might have taken him. He’d never know.  There was some semblance of motherly softness in Lori’s eyes, but it hardened over after only a moment. “You’re on your way to restoring my trust in you, or some semblance of it, young man...but this was a major hit.  A major, MAJOR setback, Michael.  You have a terribly long way to go to get it back.”

“I’m so sorry this happened, Lori.” Michael said, pathetically grumbling in his head as he accepted full blame for Lori’s mistake. That part wasn’t a lie; he really was sorry.  Sorry that he’d ever signed that contract and agreed to this.  “I promise you this will never happen again.”

“It had better not Michael.  I’m trying to force myself to give you another chance.  I’ve been reading the pamphlets that Dr. Walker sent me home with.  Did you know some women just keep their little ones in their bottoms all day every day?  They don’t have the same arrangements that you and I do where I let you out to relax in your drawer, or feed you nice foods that you like, or let you pick your hours.  They don’t negotiate with them.  They don’t bargain with them.  They don’t talk to them.  They just keep them in their bottoms.  They almost never take them out...ever.  Is that what you want?”

“No, Lori!” Michael said, ready to cry.

“Because honestly that sounds like it would be the only way right now that I could guarantee that you don’t get hurt or try to run away again.” Lori said thoughtfully.

“Lori, please!  I promise you don’t have to do that!  I will be good!”

There was a long silence as Lori’s enormous eyes looked into his, bypassing the iris and nearly gazing into his soul. He had put all his cards on the table; he had nothing now. She broke the silence.  “Okay, Michael.”

Lori peered down into the drawer and frowned, seeing that there was no more food.

“I’m guessing you’re probably hungry.” Lori said.

“Yes!” Michael exclaimed, surprising himself with the volume and intensity of his voice.

“Okay, great.” Lori said as she turned around and showed her large, wide ass to Michael.

She cupped her hefty cheeks, packed so tightly into her blue yoga pants and bounced them violently. “I put it in about 4 or 5 hours ago…a potato chip… so I’m not quite sure exactly where it is in there, but I’ll line you up with where I think it is and I’m sure you’ll find it. You’ll have plenty of time, after all.”

Lori brought Michael back up to her face so she could see if he had anything else to say.  He did.

“Lori, please don’t..” MIchael whined.

“Young man,” Lori deployed the overly stern tone usually reserved for her own children…maybe she looked at Michael here in a similar way these days.  She shook Michael in her hand, “your punishment isn’t even CLOSE to being over yet.  Don’t you DARE start this whining and whimpering again.  If you want to eat, you’re going to have to eat what I give you and you’re going to have to eat it where I give it to you.  I’m very glad that you told me the truth.  I told myself that I had to believe you.  In fact, I came into this room already having decided  I would force myself to believe you no matter what you told me.  And you took responsibility.  Full responsibility.”

Michael cringed.

“And I respect that…but telling me the truth isn’t enough.  You have to work, and being in here…”

Her free hand disappeared down into her waistband and lightly parted one of the blue globes, widening the deep valley concealed by the blue material of her yoga pants, “

...being in here is your job.”

She looked at the clock on the wall.

“It’s….8AM right now.  Here is what’s going to happen.  I’m going to keep you in my bottom until 10PM tonight.” Lori paused to allow Michael...no...to dare Michael to whimper and beg.  He did neither, but on the inside he was sobbing.  Lori continued,

“At 10PM, I’ll get undressed and get into bed. For about 5-10 minutes, I’ll lie on my stomach and read my magazines.  During this time, you will remain in my bottom but I’ll lift and bend one of my legs so that my glutes part enough for you to get a bit of fresh air.  You are under no circumstances allowed to come out.  Do you understand me?  After the 5-10 minutes, which will depend on how good you are for the rest of today until then, I’ll put on my pajamas and we will go to bed.  You will spend the full night tucked up in my bottom.  When I take you out for tomorrow morning’s shower, that will be the end of your punishment.  Is that understood?”

Michael was ready to pass out. He somehow found it in himself to nod solemnly. Lori was not satisfied.

“IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?” Lori asked sharply and loudly, enough to hurt Michael’s ears.

“Yes, Lori!” Michael shrieked.

“Good,” Lori replied bluntly.

She lifted Michael even closer to her face, centering him in front of her left eye.

“I mean what I said, Michael.  I swear to you, I do.  You are NEVER to do something like this again.” Lori said in an aggressive, motherly tone. “Do you understand me?  If you do, I honestly can’t even predict how I’ll respond and how you’ll be punished.  So don’t put me in that position, okay?  Do you promise?”

“I prom--”

Michael couldn’t finish his sentence before Lori had lowered him quickly from her face to her lower back, where her hand had been waiting.  It held the door open for Michael to enter his prison, his home.  He tumbled in and bounced pathetically off of the top of Lori’s left ass cheek and might have kept tumbling down its curvature  if not for the hand that had dropped him. In a blue glow, the hand had expertly moved to the outside of her curvy bottom and applied pressure to him overtop the yoga pants material, guiding  him in toward the center where her enormous, fleshy ass cheeks met.

He continued his journey between them, the comparative force of a hundred space rockets under his naked body propelling him deeper and deeper, into the dark and humid and disgusting.  He found his spot as deep as he could go and the blue yoga material retreated quickly, leaving him all alone in an oceanic abyss of isolation, darkness, and cushion. As miserable as he was, he found a modicum of comfort in the warmth that enveloped his cold naked body and the plush fat insulating him from Lori’s curious daughters.

~