Page 66 of Just A Little Magic

“Baff.”

“Bath it is. We’ll get you all clean and in your pajamas, and then I’ll fix dinner. It’s been a long day, hasn’t it?”

Owen’s golden eyes had bags under them that I should have noticed earlier. He’d been working so hard, and it was taking a physical toll on him. I stood and offered him a hand.

“Okay, baby, let’s get you clean, and then we’ll have a quiet dinner, okay?”

Owen used my offered hand to pull himself off the floor but didn’t pull away once he was up.

I led him into the bathroom and, once inside, asked, “Do you need to pee?”

He nodded.

“Do you want my help?”

He straightened his shoulders but nodded yes.

“Oh, baby, I’m so proud of you. Asking for help is hard.”

I gave him a kiss on the temple and led him to the toilet, where the lid was already raised. His jeans didn’t take long to undo, then I pulled out his cock and held it while he finished his business. After a shake, I tucked him back in. He leaned back briefly and let me support his weight. I could see the tension leaving his body with every minute the burden of being big was taken away.

“Tonight, we’re going to shower so we can get some food in you, but tomorrow, we’ll make time for a bath.”

Owen didn’t answer verbally but nodded his head and snuggled close to me.

The full weight of the potential danger he could face when he was in little space finally clicked in my mind. He struggled to articulate when he was little. In fact, he was close to nonverbal.

I could see how playing in public or even doing anything sexual in little space would be incredibly difficult and potentially dangerous if with the wrong partner. Fuck, even with the right partner, it would be hard. There was a real possibility that if something went wrong, he’d struggle to safeword. And playing with a stranger he could only hope would respect his boundaries? Hard. Fucking. Pass.

I started the shower to get the temperature correct before I returned to get Owen undressed. It didn’t take long to get him fully stripped and ready. Once he was naked, and I was too, I urged him into the shower. He stood there like a champ and let me wash him from top to bottom.

Even though I washed his junk, he remained soft. I struggled with not getting harder than him. Now that I better understood his reluctance to be little in public, playtime was a no-go. But I also wasn’t dead. Owen’s body, so close and slippery to mine, still affected me.

Once we were clean, I had him step onto the mat to give him a proper once-over with the towel. When I moved to dry his hair, he giggled when I covered his face with the towel and gave him a thorough shake. After getting most of the water off us, I took his hand and led him back to the bedroom.

I laid a dry towel on the bed and said, “Baby, get on the bed so I can get you ready.”

The lotion and powder had been placed on the dresserearlier so I retrieved those and took them back to the bed. Starting at the bottom, I lotioned his skin up to the top, skipping his ass and the back of his thighs for now. Once all accessible skin was done, I had him lie back and prop his feet on the edge of the bed. The moisturizing lotion was finished, and skin protectant lotion was applied around his dick and ass, followed by scented baby powder.

“Baby, I’m gonna put you in one of your diapers.”

The list he’d done the other day had been incredibly helpful. I’d studied that thing through and through. He’d complained about too many questions, but I knew the order of his preferred bathing routine and that he liked diapers in little space when he was home in the evening. That made it worth the griping as far as I was concerned.

I gathered his disposable diaper, a cloth cover, and a pair of footie pajamas to get him dressed. When he was all powdered and diapered, I helped Owen off the bed and led him into the kitchen.

One of the many reasons I’d settled on this house was the small playroom off the kitchen. Owen didn’t know it, of course, but I’d imagined watching him play while I puttered around the kitchen. Owen hated cooking, so I had no illusions he’d ever join me in the kitchen.

When he decorated the house, he hadn’t understood the space was for him. I’d insisted on low shelves that lent themselves to baskets, only two chairs so there’d be floor space, and the softest, thickest rug he could find. I supposed he thought it was in preparation for an unknown little, but in my heart, I knew he was the only one I wanted to watch over.

And now he was finally here and my heart swelled to see him using the space exactly as I’d envisioned. He sat cross-legged on the floor with his back propped against one of the chairs with Hoot propped against the other. The soft lightingcast a glow across the room that lit him like a beacon. His blue blankie was spread out on the floor in front of them while Elizabeth anchored the other side. Owen gently rolled a small ball to her, and she batted it back to him. He gently sucked his paci, giggling around it at the cat’s antics.

Owen must have felt my gaze on him. He looked at me with shining eyes, and I’d never loved him more than I did at that moment. As expected, he didn’t say anything but made grabby hands in my direction. I dropped the kitchen towel and walked over to him.

“What do you need, baby?”

“Da, ’it. Peas.”

Owen patted the chair behind him. He moved so that when I sat, he’d be positioned between my knees. When I was settled, he leaned against my knee and returned to his game. For the next half-hour, he and Elizabeth played their game while I soaked in his presence.

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