by Laurie Lochs
My heart sank. “Daddy," I whispered, not understanding what was going on. "What happened to my sun?"
Ash glanced at my canvas and stifled a grin. "Oh, baby boy. It looks like you didn't brush off your finger before dipping into the yellow. Here," he said, producing a rag from behind the easel. With the rag, he wiped my finger and, when it was clean, dipped it back into the yellow, and then brought my hand back to my canvas so I could remake my sun. "It will work now, baby boy. You can't mix the colors, unless you want to change it into a new color."
Realization dawned on me. I felt like I'd heard this before, but I couldn't remember where. "Oh…" I began, putting the puzzle pieces together in my mind. "When I'm finished with the sun, I can make a green meadow if I mixed the blue and yellow paint?"
“Exactly." Ash grinned and mixed the blue and yellow to show me. He brought them to his own canvas and painted a tree. "Just like that, little one. When you're ready, Daddy can even help mix them for you."
I moaned. A shiver shot through me. My Daddy was being so helpful, more than I'd ever thought. He'd saved my canvas from becoming a total disaster. I owed him the world. So I did the only thing I could think of, which was to dip my finger in the red paint and create a tiny smiley face on the edge of his canvas. Ash’s eyes shot open but they immediately relaxed when he saw what I was doing. I was just being silly… Except then I really did start to mess his canvas up, but it wasn't exactly my fault because I'd completely underestimated how big my hands were. I thought I could get away with drawing a tiny smile but it quickly turned into a massive face in the corner of his world. I tried to cover it up by turning it into a blob, but this only made it worse, and then I accidentally dipped my elbow into the paint because I was leaning over so much, and so I accidentally got a ton of yellow paint in Daddy's blue. I immediately froze because I was afraid it Daddy was going to punish me for ruining his colors, but when I looked up, I realized Ash was struggling to contain a laugh.
"You really made a mess of yourself, boy."
My cheeks burst into flames. I cleared my throat and dipped my palms back into the yellow and red, and brought them to my own canvas. I put my handprints on the corners just so my painting could be like Daddy’s. "I'm sorry I ruined your artwork, Daddy. But see? I did the same thing to mine."
Ash pulled me close and ran his palm down my body. I moaned and burrowed into him. Then, Ash dipped his own giant palm into the paint and pressed it down right in the middle of his canvas. I giggled, because it was kind of funny Daddy was making such a big mess. Then he did the same thing to my canvas, and soon, we were covering each other's canvases with so much paint I could do nothing but laugh at the thought that we'd completely ruined the beautiful worlds we were trying to create. We weren't creating universes as much as we were destroying them. But in a way, this was also a form of creation, just a kind of creation that was infinitely more silly and perhaps even more rewarding than if we'd just gone down the straight and narrow path and created something beautiful. When we finally finished, and when our respective canvases looked like ketchup and mustard covered hotdogs, I realize that we'd created something that transcended mere painting alone. We'd made art.
Of course, I didn't say these things to Daddy. There was no way he thought our ridiculous canvases looked good. If anything, he'd probably throw them in the trash. Yet to my surprise he grabbed my hand and said, “They're beautiful, baby boy. I'm going to hang these on the mantle above the fireplace. Every time I look at them, they’ll remind me of you."
My heart melted. This is it, I thought to myself, this is as good as it gets. You might as well stop here, Trevor. There's no way Ash can surpass this. There's nothing Ash can do that will ever top this afternoon.
"You mean it, Daddy?"
"Yes, little one. When the painting dries, I'm putting them in the middle of the living room for everyone to see."
I wanted to cry. I really did. Instead, I dipped my finger back into the blue — which, on account of our fooling around, looked a hell of a lot more like purple than royal blue — and did what I'd set out to do the first time I reached over to Daddy's canvas. I drew a tiny smiley face on the bottom corner of each of our works. It was almost like a special signature. Now the paintings really were art, I’d signed them myself. When anybody came over to Ash's house, they could just look at the smiley face in the bottom right corner and say to themselves, I know who painted that masterpiece. It’s Ash's beautiful boy.
My insides felt all gooey. I clung to Ash as he scooped me up and led me out of the room. My heart trembled as he brought me into the bathroom and stripped me. He ran a hot bubble bath and soaped me up. After he scrubbed my arms and the little specks of paint that’d gotten on my cheeks and nose, he dried me with a fluffy towel and changed me into a new diaper and a brand-new onesie I'd never seen before. This one had tiny sloths climbing over rainbows across a dark blue sky.
“Thank you, Daddy. I’ll never forget this day.”
Ash kissed my forehead. “I’ll love your painting forever, baby boy.”
I leaned into Ash’s body and he gently patted my onesie. My cock stirred and pressed into his chest. I wanted to thrust into Ash but before I could the world started swaying and fading at the seams. Clearly, I was falling asleep.
I let out a big yawn and brought my thumb to my mouth. “It’s bedtime, Daddy.”
But Ash shook his head. “No, sweet boy. Daddy’s got one more gift.”
My heart stopped. He had… Another present?
Another gift for baby?
Chapter 26
Ash
Freshly changed and diapered, I scooped Trevor into my arms and led him to the second floor. His eyes were wide and bulging out of his beautiful head. I made him shut them before we entered. I'd only had a few minutes to throw together the makeshift music studio, and I wanted to make it a safe environment so he felt comfortable enough to sing. This was easily the biggest surprise I'd given him yet.
"When can I open my eyes, Daddy?" Trevor was sitting diligently on the beige sofa in the corner with his head buried in his palms.
“Soon, baby boy.” I rearranged the microphone in the center of the room. I twisted on the pop filter and connected it to the Mac computer at the desk behind it, which was my main desk. Then, I turned around and let my baby boy know he could take in his gift.
“Open wide.”
Trevor's eyes shot open faster than a rocket. And his jaw dropped even faster when he took in the room.
"Oh, my God…” His jaw was seriously on the floor.
I couldn't help but grin. "Come here, little one. Daddy wants to see you try it out."
Trevor could do nothing but gape at the microphone in the center of the room. "What —" he began, "I'm so sorry, Daddy. I don't know where to start."
I burst into laughter. “It’s okay, sweet boy,” I said, joining him on the couch. I took his hand in mine and squeezed his thigh. "I'm going to start from the beginning, so there's no room for confusion. Is that okay?"
Trevor looked at me with wide eyes. Go on.
"When I was a younger man, I had a passion for music production. Every night, I would rush home from work and try to create a new song. Even in college, I had a shitty computer I sometimes used to create beats, and I had a portable microphone that I took everywhere with me. Though I was never good, it was my biggest passion."
“Why did you stop, Daddy?”
"Daddy stopped because he couldn't balance music with work, sweet boy. When Asteria started getting popular, I put my love for music on the back burner. Of course, I still try to incorporate music into my life whenever I can. That’s why I created the monthly talent nights. It's a way to touch base with the industry I love. Every now and then when I'm not picking up the slack for Stephen or putting together a novel marketing plan I sometimes experiment with new music production software, especially since I've made enough money to afford it. My productions aren't good, but they excite me enough to keep going, even thoug
h I haven't made a beat in a while."
Trevor's eyes glistened. "But…" he said, shaking his head. His long hair brushed across his cheeks, and so I moved it over his ear. "But why is there a microphone?"
I laughed. "Well," I began, “God knows it’s not for me. You wouldn’t want to hear me sing, I promise. I'm a producer, baby boy. The microphone is there because I wanted to give you the best surprise in the world. You're an incredible singer. You have some of the most outstanding original songs I've heard in my life. I wanted to help you with your career. If that means taking the time to record a demo, I’d love to do that for you. I want help with that part of your life."
Trevor gasped. He opened his mouth to speak. He closed it. A second later, when he finally found the courage to speak, he said timidly, "I don't know what to say."
I kissed his cheek. "It's okay, sweet boy. We don't even have to use it today. It might be too much pressure, especially since we've just come from finger painting and had a wonderful night together last night. But I wanted to let you know this is available for you any time. All you need to do is ask me and we can immediately go to our little makeshift studio to record a demo. I would love if you tried to submit to record labels, too. I know you have it in you to shine, and if there's anything I can do to make that happen, I want to be with you every step of the way."
This was too much for Trevor. He took a deep breath and immediately threw his arms around my neck. He climbed into my lap and buried himself on me. “Da-da," he whispered, frozen. “Baby like."
I held my boy tight. This was his way of saying thank you. He’d loved the gift so much he’d immediately retreated into little mode. This meant he appreciated it more than he could verbalize. Someday, the excitement would wear off, and he would be capable of using the studio and creating a beautiful demo, but not today. My boy liked it and that was all that mattered. I'd given him something he couldn’t find anywhere else.
"Does sweet boy want to sing today?" I asked, stroking his cheek. But Trevor shook his head no, conforming my suspicions. He retreated into my arms.
"No, Da-da. Trevor’s too shy to sing today."
I was veritably gushing over the boy. "Thank you so much for telling me, sweet boy. This means so much to me to know that you're comfortable expressing your limits. When you're ready, we can come back and record a demo to send to record companies. This is your room as much as it is mine, sweet angel. This is your second playroom, because you're my boy."
Without warning, Trevor's body convulsed in my lap. His left leg started to tremble and his arms shook. Was something wrong? I pressed my palm against his thigh to calm him but this only made him tremble harder. His cheeks were flushed with a rosy pink, and he was squeezing his eyes so tight it looked like he was letting go of something. Suddenly, he gasped and pressed his lips to mine. I ran my hands over his diaper just to make sure he hadn't used it. To my surprise, I felt his cock throbbing. It was hard.
"Fuck," Trevor whispered, his voice is quiet as the air. He turned to me with wide eyes. “Oh, Daddy. It… It happened for Trevor in his diaper."
My heart swelled. Immediately, I pulled Trevor as close as possible and pressed him into my body. I ran a finger over his diaper one more time, just to check everything was all right. His cock was still hard, and so I peppered his cheek with kisses to make sure he knew he was safe in my arms. Trevor returned the kisses, pressing his hot lips all over my face. He snuck his hand up my shirt and gripped my flesh. “Da-Da," he whimpered, thrusting into my palm, which I’d placed back on the front of his diaper. He didn't break eye contact with me once, thrusting upwards and bucking into my hand.
Something magical had just happened for my baby boy. I felt so honored to be a part of it. I’d never seen a little cream his pants without stimulation before. My words had been enough to send him over the edge.
"Get on my back, little guy.” I hoisted Trevor on my back. His cock pressed into me as I let him ride me like a baby sloth. "Let's bring you back to the bathroom. Daddy needs change Trevor's diaper one more time.”
Chapter 27
Trevor
By the next week, Ash and I had fallen into a rhythm. In the mornings, I’d get on the bus and meet him at Asteria where we’d go over my rehearsal notes and how I was supposed to perform. In the afternoons, I helped him clean and get ready for kink nights. I was still nervous for my performance. But with Ash by my side, I’d be all right.
But something was missing. Though I was his baby boy, Ash had yet to take the final step and ask me to be his full-time little. He wanted this. But he hadn’t given any indication he’d go ahead with it anytime soon. As far as I was concerned, I wanted to live with him and be his baby boy. But if Ash wasn't ready, I wasn't going to push him into it. It was possible he thought I wasn't ready for it, but that couldn't be further from the truth. When he held me in his arms, the world stopped spinning. It was like he was holding me in his arms for the first time. I wanted to stay there forever. Even more, I wanted to move into his house and share a bed with him, even though I knew I was welcome any time. I prayed he’d ask me in due time.
Wednesday afternoon, I was building a Hot Wheels track when Ash suddenly pulled me aside. He was working on data entry and I was playing with the race cars by the stack of shelves by the computer. I'd put the track together myself and was in the process of moving the little red cars with flames painted on the sides around the track and racing them against the purple cars to see who’d win. There was a purple car that was really capturing my attention. I put it on the track next to the red one, and had them go head-to-head to the finish line. I invented an entire competition. The purple car won at the end. I gave it an imaginary trophy and congratulated its driver on being the best race car driver alive. But then I started feeling bad for the red car, and so I decided to declare a rematch. Except when the red car won this time, I felt even worse for the purple car because he’d been stripped of his hard-earned glory. Who knew racing could be so exhausting?
Ash suddenly squatted next to me, snapping me out of my daze.
“Boy,” he said, placing a hand on my shoulder.
I immediately snapped my gaze up to his eyes. "Yes, Daddy?"
Ash furrowed his brow. But then he relaxed into a smile. “The workshop guests won't be here for another hour. I was thinking we could spend an hour in the playroom together."
My heart melted. "Can I bring my Hot Wheels?"
"Yes, baby boy. You can bring anything you like."
With a shout, I scooped up the Hot Wheels in my hand. Ash packed up the track and brought it to the playroom, where he immediately deposited it on the carpeted floor. From his office, he brought two great big mugs of tea for us to drink while we played, the herbal kind that wasn't caffeinated so I’d sleep well tonight. It was perfect for a baby boy.
Ash massaged my shoulders as I played with the cars. "You're doing such a good job, little one. It makes me so happy to see you play."
My cheeks burst into flames. "Well," I began, "I'm glad it makes you happy. But…"
Ash tensed behind me. But he said nothing.
"It would make me even happier if you raced with me."
Ash burst into laughter. “Oh, sweet boy. I'm over here massaging your shoulder when all baby wants to do is race. I hope I'm not this absent-minded when I ask you to move in with me.”
I whipped my head around. "When I… What?"
Ash looked me in the eye. "I'm sorry, little one. Daddy jumped the gun."
My heart quickened. "No, Daddy. Tell me what you were going to say."
Ash’s eyes darted over my face. He took a sharp breath. It suddenly hit me that he was trying to see if my face was betraying any signs of discomfort. But I wasn’t upset at all.
“Say it, Daddy. I’m waiting.”
"We've been spending so much time together, little one. You're special to me. You light up my life. To me, you're not just a little. You're my boy.”
I blushed and buried myself in my ar
ms. Ash pried my hands away from my eyes and forced me to look at him.
“I’m falling harder and harder for you every day, boy. When I go to bed at night, I want more than anything to wake up in your arms. I want to give you diaper checks at regular intervals throughout the day to make sure you're safe and clean. It's difficult with you living with your aunt, little one. What I'm trying to say is that I want you to move in with me."
My jaw dropped. “Really, Daddy?”
Ash wrapped my hand in his. "Yes, little one. Daddy's more serious than ever. He wants to bring baby boy home and give him everything he's ever dreamed of. In the mornings, Daddy will help sweet boy get ready for the day. Daddy will put on baby’s big boy clothes and strap him into his highchair to feed him. Daddy can't promise he'll make blueberry pancakes every morning but he'll give his baby boy the healthiest cereal, fruits, and vegetables money can buy. Daddy promises baby boy will have nothing but the best and most organic food for his little tummy."
I moaned "You're making me shy, Daddy.”
"There's no need to be shy, sweet one. There’s no obligation to accept. If you choose not to move in, this will change nothing. But you have to be honest."
“I’ve wanted to move in with you for a long time, Daddy. It would make me the happiest boy in the world.”
This time, Ash’s cheeks burst into flame. "Are you sure, sweet one? This is a big commitment."
"Yes, Daddy," I said, letting go of the race track and inching closer to Ash. "I want this more than you could ever know. I've been daydreaming about living with you full-time for so long. We get along so well at the club. You’d take care of me in the best way possible. And I know you don't want to make me dependent on you. Not all Daddies are like that. You want to help me grow into the best version of myself. I can see that in you, and for that reason, I would feel safe coming to your house full-time."