!ADULTS ONLY! The Day Leonard R. Fiske Became a Mommy!

AUTHOR'S NOTE: I wrote this story because there are men who walk among us, strange men, who are very sick people and operate on a level you or I will never comprehend. At least not in the foreseeable future.

They live in their own world while they occupy space in ours. But to know the enemy, as it has been so oft said, is possibly the way to find a solution, if one can ever be found, that is.

The man, who kidnapped Elizabeth Smart and held her captive for 9 months, had molded her. Molded her to fuck him. Molded her to suck his cock. Molded her to do his bidding. And he succeeded to such a degree that, when a cop stopped her on the street, she refused to give the cop her real name. Well, that intrigued me.

Call it brainwashing. Call it stupidity. No matter. Elizabeth Smart was his! At least she was until he was arrested. But what if he had never been arrested? Or not for years and years, at least? Well, I'll tell you, if you don't already know, she would have taken, swallowed, and sucked up gallons of his cum. And did everything this madman asked of her.

He would have been in her pussy. In her mouth. In her ass. Isn't that sick? Damned right, but there are men, men who don't care what we think about it. All they care about is satisfying their own sexual needs.

Whether we like it or not, these men will do their darndest to prevail, and we, as smart as we are, as adamant as we can be, as educated as we present ourselves to the world, and as many of these sick bastards that we can catch, one or more will get away with it. Like Leonard R. Fiske. A sick mother if ever there was one. But a sick man with a simple plan . . .

* * * * * *

LEONARD R. FISKE, deep down, knew he was a loser, a loner, and an outsider as far as society went, and he didn't give a shit, a rat's ass, a fig, or any thing else you can come up with. He just didn't care. Didn't care what society thought of one Mr. Leonard R. Fiske, because, at aged 45, and totally whipped by life, he had a plan. The Fiske plan to change it all.

A plan that he felt would change his life, his future, and his reason for being alive. A plan. His plan. He'd show them all. With the help of his plan.

All it took, this plan of his, was to find the right female, a female so young, so untouched by life, so extremely moldable, he could make her his. And train her to do anything he wanted her to do. His very own sex slave.

His sex slave! The very idea drove him, impelled him onward. His! God, how good that idea was to him. His! And, by God, he felt that if anyone could make her his, he could. All it took was a woman, a very young woman. A woman he would have to capture. To kidnap.

Without worrying about whether or not she was part of the scene. Without caring about her feelings. Shit, he thought as he laid the next concrete brick for the foundation he was now building for the soundproof room he was constructing, once she is in here, she's mine! Mine! All mine! Fuck you world, me, Lenny Fiske, is now in charge! You hearing me?

All it took, after the soundproofed bunker was finally built, was the female. Of any age under five.

Leonard Fiske knew, deep down, she would never really be his, but he also knew that if he trained the cunt, she would be, for all intents and purposes, his slave. Or she'd die. And he had already dug her grave. Three foot wide by three foot deep. Just big enough for a young girl of a young age.

Leonard wasn't always this way, this crazy, this so antisocial. Oh, no. All who knew him before, once considered him normal, at least. As normal as you or I, so to speak. But life came along and fucked him up, fucked with his mind and ate up him and spit him out. And he didn't like that one bit. He loved life, loved people, but life and people didn't return that love.

Normal people, it seemed, always felt uneasy in his company. Leonard, to most people, was an odd ball, or as his neighbor once said, to quote him, a motherfucking lunatic. Leonard failed to laugh when someone told a joke and everyone else laughed at the proper moment. Then he'd laugh when no one else laughed. At the most improper moment. It was as if he was out of step all the time. Which he was. But he couldn't help himself. He had to be himself, and to be otherwise, he felt, just wouldn't be him.

So, one day, with nothing in his mind of a criminal nature, but hurting very deeply inside from the way life, and most people, had treated him thus far, and in mental pain, he made his plan. The Leonard Fiske makeover plan. A plan to kidnap a female and train her to do his bidding. A Leonard Fiske sex slave female. She would fuck him. Suck his cock. Take it in her ass, even. But he had a problem. A big problem. A control problem.

For Leonard R. Fiske, as lonely, as antisocial, and as lunatical as he was, knew he could never hurt a woman. And he knew the woman would know this fact. And not be afraid of him. Not really. In spite of his threats to her of death. He knew, deep down in his soul, that she would know. And she would win, not he. Unless . . .

Such was the problem in the brain workings of the loner Leonard R. Fiske. But a problem such as this, in the mind of such as his, can always be solved. All it takes is a plan. And Leonard already had that. All he had to do, in reality, was to modify it. Lower his expectations, as it were, change his original ideas about it all, and just do it. Just do it. And, with that in mind, he did just that.

On a Tuesday, on the rim of a park where mothers went with their children, Leonard R. Fiske snatched a young baby girl. A female baby. A toddler.

He had watched the four young mothers for two days. On both days, an opportunity never presented itself. The mothers left the park, passing less than ten feet from where he was totally concealed behind a thick group of bushes, in pairs, or all at once. While this frustrated Leonard initially, he knew he'd get lucky. All it took was time. And he had plenty of that.

On the third day, he got lucky. Twice. But the first mother to leave the herd, so to speak, and pass right by him, had a boy in tow. Which made her lucky, though she never knew it.
Then, expecting the other three to leave together, he got a surprise and got lucky again. One of the mothers, a very beautiful woman at that, said goodbye to the other two and started in Leonard's direction, a blond, blue eyed little girl clutching her momma's hand. They looked happy together.

As she approached his concealed position, Leonard was so surprised by the opportunity, he found he couldn't breathe. The thought that this was it, the actual moment, the time to do it, flabbergasted him. He had to force his mind to remember how to breathe. In. Out. They're getting closer. In. Out. Now! Do it Lenny, he told himself. And he did.

He waited until the young mom had reached the curve in the path. He knew the other two women would be unable to see the event from their position. When the mother was ten feet into the curve, Leonard struck.

It had been easy, so easy. Coming up behind her, all he did was crack her on the head, with a heavy blackjack. Just the once. That's all it took to make her fall to the pavement, unconscious. Still holding her little girl's hand. The girl looked very startled and had opened her mouth to say or scream something. But Lenny was too quick for her.

With one hand firmly over her mouth, he scooped her up and raced to where he had parked his car. As he crossed the nearly forty-foot distance, he looked all around. He saw no one, thus he knew no one had seen him.

The little girl struggled, but he didn't care as she was no match for him. At the car, his hand still over her mouth, he opened the rear door and deposited her on the seat. The smell of chloroform hit his nostrils. It was still very wet as it clung to the handkerchief he had left on the rear seat. As he knew it would be. She was out in less than ten seconds.

Less than thirty minutes later, his prisoner was lying peacefully on the twin bed he had placed in the soundproofed room. He stood by the edge of the bed and looked down at her. He marveled at how easy it had all been. She was now here, this lovely little girl, in the flesh, and she was all his. His! He could hardly believe it.

To do anything and everything with, and now, thinking of all the wild and unbelievable sexual possibilities, Leonard Fiske felt his cock springing to life and forming the familiar tent in his running pants. He rubbed it absentmindedly and thought, when you wake up, little girl, your new friend Lenny is gonna teach you some new tricks. He rubbed his tent again. Oh, yes, little lady, he said to himself, your training is gonna be great fun.

But he knew he'd have to wait. She'd be out of it for at least another hour or more. Which gave him enough time to make and warm up a baby bottle full of formula. He had no idea if she was still on the bottle or was breast-fed, or what. He didn't care either way; she'd eat the formula or die of starvation.

And, if she were on solid food, he'd find that out soon enough. He had all the time in the world to learn that kind of mundane crap. What really mattered uppermost to Lenny was getting her to like the new food he had in mind. His sperm.

He smiled down at her and thought, Oh, yes, my little darling, your diet is sure gonna change! And old Lenny, your new buddy, is gonna train you to just love it, every baby-making drop! He rubbed himself once more before heading toward the door.

At the door, he gave the sleeping toddler one long glance. She looked absolutely peaceful to him. So innocent. So girlish. So all his! Sleep my girl, he thought, while I go and rustle up your grub.

As he mixed the formula, he thought about the little blond, blue-eyed girl now sleeping in his soundproofed little room. He realized that he knew almost zip about her.

A female, for sure. A toddler, too. Age? 48 or so months? Name? Leonard didn't know or care, but, in reality, her name was Martha Ann Styffe. And, also in reality, Martha Ann Styffe didn't know her own name beyond Martha, or very much else for that matter, and, like Leonard, she didn't care, either.

In fact, and in all truth, Martha Ann Styffe didn't know she had even been kidnapped. All she knew was nothing much. Which, as wicked as it may sound, as sick as it may be or is, fit in perfectly with Leonard's very nasty plan.

He now had a female, who was now all his. And, to have something to call her by, he named her Eve. It was short and sweet and very easy to remember. And, if she didn't like the name, well, tough girly.

* * * * * *

AS HE ENTERED THE ROOM, the warm bottle of formula in hand, he heard: "Where's my mommy? I want my mommy!" He stared at her.

Christ, he thought, she can talk! Why this fact surprised him, he didn't know, but he had expected more of the goo goo ga ga from her. But this was okay with Lenny. It added a nice dimension to it all. And it could only make her training that much easier. She might even already know words such as suck and lick. He grinned at her.

"Your mommy's gone, Eve. She's dead and never coming back. I'm your new mommy. My name is Lenny." He smiled warmly at her. She looked confused and uncertain as to what was taking place.

"If my mommy's dead, you did it! I saw you hit her!" She started to cry. She looked at him through tear-filled eyes and blubbered, "And my name's Martha, not Eve!" Lenny now had some fast 'splaining to do.

"You're too young to understand, but I didn't kill your mommy. It was her time to die. All I did was my job, which is to help people along the path to heaven. Your mommy's now in heaven." She was looking right at him.

"And, following all the rules, as we all must do, it's also my job to be your new mommy. And rename you. It wouldn't make much sense now, to keep your old name with your new mommy, now would it?" He smiled at her again. A warm smile.

She looked completely confused. Lost. Trying to comprehend his words, but coming up empty. What he said made some sense to her, but at the same time it meant no more of the mommy she had known all her short life.

Don't rush her, Lenny, he said to himself. There's plenty of time. Work on her, work on her mind. Slowly, piece by piece, a little at a time. He crossed the room and offered her the baby bottle. To his surprise and happiness, she took it and immediately placed the nipple into her mouth. And drank.

"Good girl, Eve, good girl!" He gently patted his new daughter's blond head. "And you'll see, we're gonna have lots of fun, you and me." He felt a shiver go through him. "Lots of fun. It's my job as your new mommy to teach you all about new things. Lots of new things." He rubbed his tent.

"Why, before you know it, Eve, you're gonna love your new mommy. Even more, maybe, than your old one." He patted her little head again.

She looked up at him, her eyes bright. And trusting. My God, he thought, it's going much easier than I expected . . .

* * * * * *

LENNY HADN'T RUSHED HER, oh, no. He had proceeded very slowly in his bonding attempts. One such attempt was getting her to accept her new name. He made her repeat it many times during the next two weeks, getting her used to it.

"What's my little girl's new name, darling?" He had said many times.

"Eve!" she cried out. "Eve!" She liked the name. The one syllable name.

"Good girl!" he had said every time, reinforcing the child and mommy bond. The bond that was growing daily, even during the mommy-gives-his-little-girl-a-bath stage. Which Lenny made sure happened five or six times a day. If nothing else, little Eve was one very clean little girl.

Her first bath had occurred on her first day of captivity, soon after she had had her fill of the formula and had even wolfed down a bowl of Cheerios.

He ran a nice warm bath for her, keeping the stopper at an angle to ensure the water level stayed at around six inches deep. Fully clothed, he had bathed her. Getting her body, and her mind, used to his big forty-five year old hands.

While 'go slowly, Lenny,' was foremost in his mind, he had allowed himself the luxury of speeding things up a tad. By washing her anus and pussy over and over. He would work on her legs, or some other part of her, and then hit the anus and pussy again. Washing and rinsing. Over and over, getting her used to the idea of having his hands all over her private parts.

All the while talking gently to her, building the child and mommy bond and driving himself fairly crazy in the doing. Oh, how he wanted to feel that moist little mouth of hers on his cock! And his cock in her warm little untouched pussy. But he knew he had to go slowly and not lay too much new stuff on her all at once.

But his cock just had to have a release. It was way too much for him to go through, this sweet young body under his hot hands. Way too much. So, he made another concession to speed. He stripped himself naked and joined her in the tub. He was amazed she hadn't panic or showed any fear. She just accepted it as a natural mommy thing to do. Even a mommy with an 8" erection, that was now pointing right at her.

"Now, Eve," he said, holding his cock with one hand and pointing to it with the other, "This is your new mommy's magic stick." He rotated the cock head a few times, making small circles. "It's like a new toy for you to play with. And it will also be feeding you its magical juice some time real soon. Here, Eve, reach out and play with your new magic stick toy." He pushed it toward her slightly.

She looked up at him and, without a word said, reached out and put her little hand around the shaft of the new magic stick. The jolt of electricity that shot through him was just too much. His cock head immediately released a blob of pre-cum that was so big, so copious, some of it dripped down into the bath water.

Eve looked down at the water and saw it there, floating on the surface, white and shiny looking. She reached down with her free hand and scooped the blob up, staring at it.

"Is this the magic stick's magical food, mommy?" She looked right at him, his cum floating in the middle of the puddle in her palm.

"Yes, Eve, go ahead, taste it. Use your tongue." Oh, was he hot! On fire! It was going splendidly well. Just splendidly. He watched as she brought her hand up to her mouth and lapped at his cum ball. She made a slight frowny face.

"It's salty, mommy!"

"It has to be, dear, that's what gives it its magic. The magic to turn you into a beautiful woman when you're all grown up. You do want to be beautiful later, don't you, Eve?" She looked at him and nodded.

"Good!" he said. "Now, Eve, I'm gonna shake the magic stick some and see if it will give us some more magical food. OK?" She nodded again, a look of utter fascination on her face.

Leonard R. Fiske then proceeded to masturbate, right there in the tub, his feet in six inches of warm water, in a slow and purposeful manner. He knew he could probably get her, right then and there, to put her little mouth on his cock, but he didn't want to take the chance that it would be too much too soon. Thus, he wanked away and contented himself with the sure knowledge that he was getting her used to his magic stick. And its magical sperm food.

As he felt the familiar nearness of cumming coming on, he cooed at her, "Now, Eve, hold out your sweet little hand and we'll see if the magic stick will spit out its yummy magical food. OK?" She held out both hands, palms up, offering him a choice.

"OK, mommy, make the magic stick spit!" She liked the word spit, it reminded her of her old mommy, who used to say, a long time ago it seemed to her now, "I'm so mad I could spit nickels!" Spit! It had a nice, sharp sound to it.

And spit it did, this Lenny's magic stick. A copious amount of magical food came out, right into Eve's warm, little left hand palm. "Oooh, mommy," she said. "It spitted a lot!" And it had. A lot. Glob after glob came out of the magic stick, filling her palm so full some of it splashed over the hand-cup's rim and fell down into the bath water.

"Ooh, Eve," Lenny said, breathlessly, as his orgasm rushed out into the little palm. "It sure did spit a lot. And it makes your mommy feel real good when it does. Oooh, real good! Ooh, ooh, ooh!"

She started to reach down toward the water with her right hand, but Lenny stopped her, fearful she might spill the rest by doing so.

"No, Eve," he barked at her. "Leave that alone! There's plenty of the magical food in your hand to feed you. Now, darling, lick your palm clean, don't miss a drop of the magical food." He was squeezing his cock head now, massaging it and enjoying the after effects his orgasm had created. "Try not to spill any, OK, darling?"

"OK, mommy," she said as she raised her palm toward her face while, at the same time, bending her head down to meet it. Lenny watched, afraid to even breathe, as her pink, wet tongue came out and took a first lap at the white puddle. He watched as her tongue carried a nice sized blob back into her mouth. She was tasting it, rolling it over her tongue. Then she swallowed and he watched her first reaction to this larger amount.

She blinked her eyes three times rapidly, made a scrunchy face, and said, "Salty!" But, before he could say anything, her tongue was back in the puddle and lapping up some more.

"Good girl," he said. "That's my good girl. Eat it all up, all the magical food." And she did, every last drop. Without blinking her eyes and without making any more scrunched up faces . . .