Mommy Trixie 2 part 1


                                            >be smolanon

                                            >be finally home alone for the week

                                            >load up the clop

                                            >this time it’s Trixie getting railed

                                            >your dopamine receptors are all numb and your orgasms aren’t as explosive

                                            >pull pants down and start to jerk off in chair

                                            >clop clop clop

                                            >clop clop clop on the door

                                            >wait, on the door?

                                            >get up from chair and put pants back on

                                            >open the door to your parents that forgot something

                                            >instead it’s just Trixie

                                            >”Watch in awe, at the Great and Nurturing Babysitter Trixie!”

                                            >magical fireworks shoot off behind Trixie

                                            >you wanted to be alone

                                            >now you have one more annoying person’s rules to follow

                                            >wait, she’s a cartoon pony

                                            >and now she’s outside your door

                                            Uh, hello Trixie?

                                            >”Yes, Trixie is here! Now make yourself useful and get me some oats, you little squirt.”

                                            >Trixie immediately starts walking through the door

                                            >she stops when she’s about to push past you and starts sniffing your shirt

                                            >sniff snoof

                                            >”Did Trixie call you a little squirt?”

                                            >snoof

                                            >”You smell like a big, wet squirt…”

                                            >Trixie rubs her snoot around your shirt some more

                                            Trixie, your horn is poking my face!

                                            >she pulls back her head in a daze

                                            >”Huh? You! Don’t talk back to Trixie! And where are Trixie’s oats?”

                                            Oh, I’m sorry! Please don’t punish me!

                                            >”Trixie will punish you if you don’t get her oats right now.”

                                            >you run to the kitchen and try to remember where the oats are

                                            >you grab the oat container and start walking back

                                            >Trixie has came into your living room

                                            >she is now laying down sideways on your couch

                                            Here are your oats, oh great and powerful one.

                                            >”Thank you.”

                                            >she stares at you

                                            What?

                                            >”Well?”

                                            Well what?

                                            >”Well, aren’t you going to feed Trixie her oats?”

                                            >you are confused because the babysitter usually feeds you snacks

                                            Oh, ok. Do you want me to make you oatmeal?

                                            >”Cook them? Yuck. Trixie doesn’t want to eat slop like a pig would.”

                                            I’ll get a spoon for you, then.

                                            >”Trixie doesn’t trust silverware. You will feed Trixie with your hand.”

                                            But-

                                            >”What did Trixie say about talking back?”

                                            Yes, mom.

                                            >you just realized your Freudian slip as soon as you spoke

                                            >”Mom? Did you just call Trixie your mommy?”

                                            Oh, sorry Trixie I-

                                            >"Anon, did you call Trixie mom or not?"

                                            Yes, mom.

                                            >"You just did it again! Do you want Trixie to be your mommy?"

                                            Uh-

                                            >"Then it's decided. You will call Trixie mommy from now on."

                                            Yes, mommy.

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