Page 52 of Spencer's Satisfaction
Still, I can’t help daydreaming about it. About quitting my shitty job and writing for a living. It’s a fantasy that gets me through the hardest shifts, when the customers are awful and my boss is being his dickiest. I imagine books with my name on the cover. I imagine the sorts of things I’d write about.
I imagine Daddy wanting to narrate them for me.
But that’s a pipe dream. I’d have to work up the courage to tell him I used to enjoy writing, first. Then I’d actually need to write somethingandbe okay with letting someone else read it.
I don’t think that’s ever going to happen. So, I’ll just have to suck it up and deal with the fact that my life is almost perfect except for my job. That’s the same for a lot of people. In fact, I know I’m better off than a lot of people. I’m definitely better off now than I was even three months ago, that’s for sure.
And that takes me right back to where my thoughts started: being with Spencer is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
“Wakey wakey, Tones,” Zephyr is smiling knowingly at me, and I blush when I realize I’ve been zoned out during our play date. Most of the gang has assembled at Asher and Charlie’s house today, and I have to admit that I genuinely feel like part of the group now. “We’re gonna play with Ash’s train set. You wanna join in?”
“Yeah!” I clap my hands together and follow Zephyr over to where Ash and Matty are setting up the train.
I kneel on the carpeted floor of Ash’s living room and rest my diapered butt on my bare heels. Today’s the first time I’ve had the balls to wear a diaper and onesie in front of anyone other than Daddy, but nobody has said anything. In fact, both Ash and Matt appear equally padded and more than comfortable with it, too.
“Do you wanna press the button?” Ash asks me when the track is all connected and the train is all ready to go.
I blink at him. “Really? You don’t wanna?”
“I can play with it whenever,” he shrugs, his curly hair bouncing around his head as he moves. “You should have a turn.”
After glancing at the two other boys to be sure they don’t mind me getting the all-important job, I lean over and press the button on the console attached to the tracks and feel a jolt of excitement when the train lights up, makes achoo-choosound and then starts clickety-clacking around the large figure eight track.
Ash, Zephyr and Matt cheer, and we all watch as the little locomotive heads over the archway bridge at the center of the eight shape, crossing over the returning track beneath it. I’m looking forward to seeing the train curl around the bend and loop back underneath the bridge. I applaud when it does exactly that.
“If that’s not the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, I’ll eat my hat,” I hear Daddy say from somewhere behind us, his voice sounding all warm and soft.
“You’re not wearing a hat,” London’s voice jokes, then also adopts the same tone as Daddy’s. “But, yeah, it is. I’m starting to believe that there’s no limit on the cuteness factor.”
“There’s not,” Charlie’s voice agrees. Then he steps into my peripheral vision and bends down to press a kiss on the top of Ash’s head. “You haven’t been potty in a while,” he says, casually as you please, “need to go? Or is today a diaper day?”
I can feel my cheeks burning, but Ash just giggles and answers, “Potty please, Daddy.”
Matty looks at me, then up at his daddy and says, “Me too, Daddy.”
Thankfully, Daddy doesn’t ask me or get me to join the conversation. I haven’t gotten little enough that I’ve wet without conscious thought, and I don’t think I’ll ever be comfortable enough for that around these guys. But, then again, a few short months ago, I never would have thought I’d be comfortable enough to even wear a diaper in front of other people, either, nor that I would even want to.
As Charlie and London wander off with Ash and Matt respectively, I let Daddy help me to my feet. He gives me a cuddle and asks me if I’ve been having fun, and I answer in the affirmative.
“I’m gonna go potty, too,” Zephyr declares apropos of nothing, before he flounces out of the room with his dress and petticoat swishing around his thighs. His Little age seems to be older than Ash and Matt’s are, so he doesn’t seek out his daddy before he disappears down the hallway that leads towards the laundry and downstairs powder room.
Now that I’m alone with Daddy, I squirm a little. “Daddy,” I finally admit in what probably amounts to a stage whisper, “I gotta go, too.”
His lips quirk upwards and he kisses my forehead, the picture of doting patience. “Diaper or potty?”
“Potty.”
Daddy reaches out and takes my hand, smiling wide. “Good boy,” he lauds, then starts leading me through the house.
With his praise warming me from the inside, my thoughts circle back to how happy I am to have found this wonderful man, and how lucky I am to be with him.
And even though I’m not ready to use a diaper in front of our friends, or tell him that I want to be a writer, I’m suddenly aware that there is still something I am ready to share with him.
* * *
“Spence?”
“Hmm?”
