Page 40 of Spencer's Satisfaction
Slowly, Tony relaxes and pulls away from where he was hiding. Though his cherubic face is still bright pink, he nods and giggles a little. “Cars?” he asks, and the single word answer suggests that he’s starting to sink back into a deeper headspace again.
I ruffle his hair, delighting in the way it makes it stick up at odd angles. “Whatever you like, angel.”
He climbs off my lap and waddles (there really is no better word to describe his wide-legged, toddling walk) over to the brightly colored mat in the corner, upending the bucket of matchbox cars we’d placed there together earlier in the week. He entertains himself, making ‘vroom’ noises and sending the little vehicles hurtling over the mat at breakneck speeds, and I watch him with fondness for a few minutes before giving myself a shake and heading out of the room to start organizing our meal.
The roast and veggies are just sliding into the oven when he calls out a whiny, “Daddy!”
I close the oven door, take off my oven mitts, and head back into the living room. I find Tony surrounded by tiny cars, a couple of toy trucks, a teddy bear and…I don’t even recognize that stuffed dog. He’s the eye of a small cyclone of Little exuberance.
“Well,” I observe crouching down to zoom a car down the mat myself, “this looks like you had fun.”
He nods, then shifts his hips from side to side, scrunching his nose up in that way I’m coming to understand is his ‘seriously uncomfortable’ face.
“Ahhh, are you wet, baby?”
He picks up the stuffed dog and holds it in front of his reddening face by one floppy gray ear, nodding shyly.
I want to eat him up.
Smothering the urge to pepper him with kisses, I push back up to my feet and reach out both hands. “Let’s fix that, hmm?”
He holds out his hands to me, still clutching his new plush toy, and I surprise him by reaching for his underarms and lifting him up that way. After he’s stable on his feet, I bend and peck a kiss to the tip of his nose, wink, and then hoist him up again, forcing him to wrap his legs around my waist as I carry him to the foot of the stairs.
“Sadly, sweetheart, I can’t carry you up the stairs, so you’ll have to hoof it from here,” I tell him, and he giggles then complies, his waddle somehow even more pronounced than earlier.
It’s insanely adorable.
When we’re back in the nursery, I help him up onto the change table again, and smile gently down at him. I can see the nerves swimming in his gaze, even though he’s still in a mostly little headspace. This is a big deal for him, and I want him to know I’m taking it seriously. “If you hate this or you’re uncomfortable, I’ll stop and you can take over.”
He licks his lips, then nods, “I trust you, Daddy.”
That is probably the best sentence I have ever heard.
Maybe Charlie’s onto something after all.
Chapter Fourteen – Tony
Iwas right. Daddy changing me makesallthe difference. He doesn’t make a song and dance about it -in fact, he makes short work of helping me out of my onesie and then pulling the soggy, uncomfortable diaper from me, rolling it up and wiping me clean- but there’s care and attention and warmth in his actions, and in the way he talks to me.
When I did this for myself, I had to get back into my normal adult headspace to deal with it. But because he’s got this, I’m able to stay floating in the relaxing place where the realities of my grown up world don’t touch me.
Customers aren’t yelling at me because the fry cook got their order wrong, or because it’s taking longer to get to them while we’re short staffed. My boss isn’t yelling at me for being slow, even though I’m filling in for two other people on my normal shift. I’m not worried about accidentally taking Table 8’s coke to Table 3, or dropping and smashing a glass because I tried to clean up a table too hastily.
Sure, all of that did happen tonight (and then some), but while I’m little, I don’t think about it. Instead, I think about how safe Daddy’s arms felt as he held me close. How strong he was when he carried me from the living room to the stairs at the front of the house. How fun it was to sit and play with toys, with no expectation to do anything else other than have fun.
“Now,” Daddy says, breaking me out of my musings, “did you want to stay Little for a while longer, or would you like me to get your big boy clothes for you to start thinking about being big again?”
“Hmm…” I hum out loud, completely uncaring that I’m still splayed out on the change mat, my junk on display. The temptation to stay Little and hide from my stresses a while longer is strong, but I do also want to spend some grown up time with my Daddy, too. “Big boy clothes,” I decide.
Daddy gives me a proud smile (which I think he would have given me either way) and lifts up a pair of brightly colored briefs with a picture of a spaceship on the front. “Training pants,” he explains. “Kind of between a pull-up and underwear. Both in case of accidents, but also to help you still feel little for a bit longer.”
I feel a bit embarrassed when he says ‘accidents’, but I do really like the idea of having a middle ground to experiment with. “Spaceship!” I say, clapping my hands.
Daddy chuckles. “That’s right, sweetheart. It’s a spaceship.”
He guides my legs in through the leg holes one at a time, then gets me to raise my hips to tug the underwear up properly. They are quite snug and have a thick crotch. Nothing like a diaper, but definitely thicker than normal cotton briefs. The constriction and sensation against my dick feels good and I rub my palm over the spaceship without thinking. My cock hardens almost instantly.
“Hey,” Daddy chides gently, “what’s the rule about grown up touching while you’re little?”
