“I'm—I'm gonna do it this time, Mommy!”

“I'm sure you are, sweetheart.”

Claire squirmed. She glared up fiercely into her Mommy’s eyes, unable to shake the sense that Mommy didn't quite believe her.

Mommy—or Fern, as Claire had known her three years ago, before everything had changed—smirked down at her, hazel eyes glimmering in the soft light of the Christmas tree in the background.

Claire faltered under that stare. Her hand went to her mouth, and she found herself shyly sucking on a fingertip, squirming beneath Fern's confident gaze. “I-I will,” she mumbled around the finger. “I can!”

“I know, princess.” Fern reached down and patted Claire on the head. Fern almost moaned from the tender touch even before she noticed Fern's breasts practically about to spill out of that red V-neck sweater. She stared, instinctively sucking a little faster, a little daintier. “You've been practicing! Don't think I didn't notice you trying to stay up to eleven last Sunday.”

Claire squeaked, her face going bright red. “I—aah—”

She felt Fern's fingertips under her chin, nails daintily tracing her throat. She whimpered and immediately lifted her head from ogling the boobies to meet Fern's eyes again.

“You're trying to win this time,” Fern cooed. “Both halves of the curse, not just the one about cumming your brains into goo.”

Her hand slipped down. Claire felt a thrill of fear as she realized a half-second before what Fern was about to do.

She still gasped as Fern's hand pressed right between her legs, squishing right against her soft, sensitive cocklette under her skirt.

“You want to break the curse that badly, don't you, baby?” Fern purred. Her hand started to rub. Claire's lips parted, and she started to pant. “All you have to do is make it to midnight without falling asleep, and Mommy will stop making all this sweet dummy milk! All you have to do is not cum or ruin, and your mind will finally clear, and you'll be able to escape all this~!”

“M-Mommy!” Claire squealed. She couldn't help it. She humped Fern's hand, tongue lolling.

“You just have to prove you can be a big girl!” Mommy giggled, pressing her hand in a little harder, making Claire cry out in dumb bliss. “Show Mommy you can stay up that late, so Mommy knows you’re ready to take care of yourself.”

“I-I can do it!”

“Hm~” Fern smirked.

Her hand pulled back. Claire whimpered, squirming, rubbing her thighs together.

Then Fern sat down next to her on the couch, and Claire's breath caught. Mommy's perfume was everywhere, and her voluptuous body was so soft and warm...

“I know you can, babygirl,” Fern cooed in her ear. “I'm rooting for you! I know you can finally break out of this, and then we can go back to being friends, and you can go back to acting like a grownup. Doesn't that sound nice?”

Her hand returned to between Claire's legs. Claire whined softly, sucking her thumb and nodding eagerly.

Anything Fern said sounded nice to her. But... oh, but it felt so good like this...

No! She forced the thought back. It had been two years. At least. Counting was getting harder, she only foggily remembered life before this at this point, but she knew... she knew she needed to break free. She could prove it to M—could prove it to Fern!

“Would you like Mommy to keep you company?” Fern purred. “Help keep you awake?”

Claire suckled on her thumb, hesitating. Fern always got... weird this time of year. But Fern wanted her to break free. She'd said so!

And Mommy being close by sounded nice.

And the slow edging would… help keep her awake, right?

“B-Buh,” she managed, then popped her thumb out and nodded weakly. “But I don't need Mommy's help. I'm gonna do it by my own, Mommy!”

“But you'd like me to stay?”

“Mmh...” Claire cuddled in a little closer, returning to sucking her thumb. “Mm-hm...”

She heard Fern laughing softly right in her ear. An arm draped over Claire's shoulders, and Claire realized how cold it was tonight, how soft and warm Mommy was.

“Okay, princess,” Fern cooed down at her. “Just two hours to go~”

* * *

Claire's lashes felt heavier and heavier with every rhythmic ting, ting, ting of the angel chime in the windowsill. Her thoughts felt... thicker... with every passing second.

She was so sleepy nowadays. It wasn't fair. She'd had to skip her midday nap today—the rules were very clear about sleeping before midnight—and she always forgot how badly she needed that nap. It had been nice of Fern to even let her skip it. Fern could have ruined everything if she'd wanted to.

She popped out her thumb—even though her lips felt empty without it, bringing a longing that felt dangerously close to activating the Trigger, she knew sucking her thumb was just too soothing to risk—and nuzzled into Fern's side.

“Aww, we still awake, baby?” she heard Fern purr in her ear.

“Mm-hm,” she mumbled. “Yesh, Mommy.”

“We're only ten minutes away.” Fern's giggles settled on Claire like snowflakes. “You're gonna make it, baby~!”

“M-Mommy,” Claire whined.

“What is it, princess?”

“Y-You're...” Claire bit her lip.

And bucked against the hand that had been rubbing between her legs for the past minute.

“I'm what, baby?” Fern asked sweetly.

“N-Nuhthing, Mommy,” Claire whimpered.

“Poor thing. You're just so sleepy, aren't you?” The hand slowly pushed deeper. Claire whimpered as her little cocklette twitched and throbbed needily. “Babies aren't meant to stay up this late~”

“I-I'm not a baby, Mommy!” Claire squealed softly, humping against her Mommy's hand and starting to suck her thumb again. “‘mm nomt!”

“And you're gonna prove that, aren't you, princess?” Fern cooed. Her voice was like thick cherry syrup, the kind Fern sometimes gave Claire a spoonful of before bed when she'd been good. Or when she was being bad. Or when she was sick, for some reason. “You're gonna prove you're a big girl? You're sooo close!”

“Mm-hm!” Claire smiled proudly, forcing herself to meet Fern's gaze as she happily sucked on her thumb.

“You know, a little treat might help you make it past the finish line.” Fern smiled down at her, stroking her hair out of her eyes with one hand. “Wouldn't you like that? Something to give you some energy?”

Claire smiled stupidly up at Fern and suck-suck-sucked.

Mommy is so pretty...

“Just a little... drink,” Fern cooed, and Claire realized she was pulling down the neckline of that tight, stretchy sweater, “before bedtime?”

ting~

ting~

ting~

Claire's thoughts glazed with sweetness as she stared at the perfect, teardrop-shaped breast, massive and heaving. She knew it would be squishing against Mommy's soft tummy if the neckline weren't holding up at exactly where Claire's lips could reach.

Her thumb popped out. Her lips stayed parted.

“Nn.” She shook herself. “N-No, Mommy, I... shouldn't...”

“You shouldn't?” Fern tilted her head confusedly. “Why not, baby?”

Fernsounded so condescending, so puzzled, Claire almost gave in—both out of embarrassed horniness and a certainty that Fern was always right, that Fern knew best…

“Y-Your boobies, they... they...” Claire blushed. “I told you, Mommy, no milk! It... it makes me... sleepy.”

“It does?” Fern blinked.

The hand pressed in against Claire's bulge. Squish, squish. Throb. Leak.

“Mommy!” Claire whined. “I-I, I said I w-ww...”

Her words melted into a huge, pathetic, kittenish yawn.

“Awww!” Mommy stroked Claire's hair, rubbed mercilessly through Claire's panties. “Poor baby! Maybe this just isn't going to work out…”

“N-No, Mommy, I'm...” Claire realized her head was sinking right towards Fern's chest. She pressed against a breast and whimpered at the softness, bucking, humping her Mommy's hand. “... I'm g-guhnna make iiit...”

“Silly baby,” Mommy cooed. “You only have two minutes left! Why are you cuddling into Mommy's boobies now?”

Claire whimpered. She tried to lift her head, but it was like a weight was pressing down on her, a weight she couldn't possibly lift. She felt so weak. Her tongue was lolling, and she knew she was drooling on Mommy's boobies, but the hand just felt sooo good...

“You know how silly and sleepy you get close to Mommy's boobies,” Fern teased. “Breathing in Mommy's scent.” On cue, Claire found herself huffing the perfume that she'd been trained for three years to associate with weakness.

Claire whimpered. “M-Mommy,” she moaned, finding herself compelled—forced?—to nuzzle between Fern's cleavage, “I-I'm not—”

“And how do Mommy's boobies feel, princess~?”

Claire trembled.

Drooled.

Humped.

“S-Soft,” she whimpered.

“And~?”

“Mommy, what are...”

Rub. Rub. Throb. Claire squealed stupidly.

“And?”

“Warm,” Claire moaned, nuzzling eagerly. “Warm… ssofftt...”

“Soft and warm.”

“Sssofftt...”

Claire's brain felt soft. Claire's brain felt warm. Melty. Squishy. She... no, she was so close... but she couldn’t resist this. She could never resist Mommy. Mommy was stronger than her, she knew it. Mommy's will, Mommy's beauty, Mommy's voice. But Mommy wasn’t trying to sabotage her… was she?

Oh, everything was so warm… soft… her head felt fuzzy, buzzy, glazed, and the angel chimes sounded so much like her lullaby box upstairs.

It all felt so familiar, like… like everything here was programmed into her mind to make her think about sleepytime…

Like this had… happened before? But she didn’t remember that, it didn’t make sense…

She had to hold on... it had to only be a minute left...

She felt herself being pulled back. Mommy smiled down at her sweetly.

Claire's drooly lips fumbled over her words.

“Everything okay, princess?” Mommy purred, stroking Claire's hair.

Rub. Squish. Throb.

“Mommy—!” Claire whimpered. “Mommy, this—this isn't—”

Fern smiled and tipped Claire's head down.

Claire stared at Mommy's perfect breast, that perfect pink nipple.

It glittered with moisture.

“Something wrong, baby?” she dimly heard Mommy coo. “What's the matter?”

“I—” Claire whined. “You're—”

“Baby's lips are empty.”

Claire's eyes widened. The trigger hit her like a thick, sticky-pink wave. Her mouth was watering. “M-Mommy—”

She tried to bring her thumb up to suck. But she was pinned all of a sudden. Mommy had her gripped tightly.

Her lips ached. She mewled, mind melting and oozing with need, and looked desperately for her paci—oh, it had been right here a minute ago—

“Baby's lips are empty.”

“M-Mommy—!” Even using her lips to speak filled her with tingly, hypersensitized pleasure. She whimpered, wiggled, humped—faster, gooier, dumber, dummer, stupider—

“Baby's lips are empty~”

“Mommyyy!” Claire squealed, and latched onto a breast right as the hand pulled away, right as she started ruining pathetically into her panties like the dumb little thumbsucking princess she knew she was, and—and—

—and her whole brain melted into dumb, sticky, goo.

Sweet, heavy cream trickled onto her tongue as she began to suckle, dumb and needy and goobrained and broken, humping her Mommy’s hand like a good little loser.

Pure pleasure enveloped Claire as Mommy's arms held her tightly, and...

* * *

“Happy New Year~!”

Claire's eyelids fluttered open. She was nestled into the couch, snuggling a big pillow. The angel chime rang softly in the background.

She rubbed her eyes, beginning to sit up… before going very, very still.

There was a distinct stickiness between her legs.

Realizing what it was, and how she’d been clutching the pillow, Claire squirmed with embarrassment. Had—had she been dreaming about something—

Memory hit her like a speeding car. Her eyes widened.

She looked up at Mommy. Mommy was across the room, daintily snuffing out the candles, silencing the angel chime’s endless song.

“I—” Claire licked her lips. “You—”

“Yes, babygirl?” Mommy gave her a sly smile.

Claire swallowed.

“Did you see how close I got?” she whimpered. “D-Did I make it?”

And from Mommy’s smile, she already knew the answer.

Mommy sauntered over to her, hips swaying, breasts bouncing. Claire stared eagerly up at those bouncy boobies, noticing how the nipples tented the fabric of the sweater, darkening it with… moisture.

The first half of the curse was still in effect. She’d fallen asleep, so she still needed…

Claire’s lips parted slightly.

Mommy’s care.

Oh, the curse always felt so good when it had just been freshly renewed…

“No, sweetie,” Mommy cooed, reaching down and patting Claire’s cheek. “You nodded off while I was in the kitchen. I'm so sorry, babygirl.”

“That's—” Claire wiggled. “I-It's okay.” She ducked her head, embarrassment burning hot inside her. “But… but did I at least…”

Her words broke off in a whimper as she registered what the stickiness meant. She’d climaxed. On New Year’s Eve.

“No, baby.” Mommy’s voice was sweet, sympathetic, and pure syrup for Claire’s increasingly melting brain. Mommy’s voice was just like Claire’s dumb, sticky… thinkies… cherry syrup everywhere… and she finally registered how dummy and baby her words were getting… “You ruined your dumb, stupid baby brains away all over again~”

Claire whined. She couldn’t speak for embarrassment, but also because she knew how pathetic she’d sound now if she tried to use her big girl words…

“You see what I mean, princess?” Mommy's voice trickled into her ears as she felt herself being pulled into Mommy's arms. “You just aren't ready to be a big girl yet!”

Claire nodded pathetically, blinking up wide, shamefilled eyes at Mommy.

Mommy smirked and popped a nipple past her lips.

“So… it's going to have to be another year like this, okay, babygirl~?”

Claire whimpered and nodded again, nuzzling in close, breathing in deep of Mommy’s sweet pheromones. She squeaked as she felt Mommy reach down and touch between her legs. “Goodness. What a little mess you’ve made, baby~”

Claire suckled docilely and nodded again, eager to agree with how dumb she was. She humped against Mommy's hand, and drank down Mommy’s milk, and everything felt so gooey and sticky and… perfect…

She wondered why she'd been so upset. Mommy's hand felt so nice! She'd soooo missed Mommy's hand there!

She giggled stupidly and ground her hips, bounced, sucked, drooled…

She felt Mommy's soft laughter rumble against her like a cat's purr. “Maybe next year, sweetheart~”