A Temporary Solution - Chapter Four (Commission)

Thanks to our Gold-tier patron Devin for commissioning this fourth installment!

We hadn't talked about this.

Sure, I loved letting Scott take charge. I adored the idea of him ordering me around, setting rules, treating me with all the gentle, loving condescension that real daddies lavish upon their toddlers. But this?

My mouth was dry as I stared stupidly up at the two giants towering over me: Scott with his blond hair now slightly askew, and an unknown figure beside him, tattoos crisscrossing his bare forearms, strangely blue eyes peering down at me with amused interest. And why wouldn't he be amused? Here I knelt, just as I'd planned—naked in my diapers, deep in little space and submissive and humble and oh, so smelly. Scott wouldn't be able to refuse changing me like that, I'd reasoned. He'd be a nice Daddy and change his stinky little rugrat before bed...

But what on earth was he going to do now? What was I going to do?

Fortunately, his next words provided the answers. "Devin, baby! Looks like someone needs some attention, don't they? Do you need a change?" The kindness in his tone—was that remorse, perhaps?—emboldened me to raise my flaming cheeks. I didn't trust myself to speak, but I nodded wordlessly. Yes, Scott. Yes, Daddy, please. I know I'm not supposed to change myself but I could have and it was so hard not to but I obeyed the rules 'cause I'm a good boy I promise I promise-

Yeah—when I'm in littlespace it's hard to snap out of it just like that. Particularly when you've been marinating in a massively soiled diaper for most of the day.

"This is Craig," Scott finally smiled, gesturing over at his fellow giant. He must have seen the anxiety welling in my eyes, judging from his apologetic tone. "He's a cool dude, I promise. Just came back to say hi, and, well-" His glance flicked over to Craig, who gave a rogueish grin. "We'll see what happens," the blue-eyed giant shrugged. "Pleased to meet you, Devin! You're a very good baby boy, aren't you?"

Something in his tone made me shiver inexplicably. Oh, he knew the terms to use all right... but he wasn't my daddy. He wasn't Scott. And not in a million years would I ever be deep enough in littlespace not to know that difference.

Not that I got much of a chance to object, of course. Scott took me by the hand and escorted me back to my room—the one with the dresser drawer stuffed with MegaMaxes and boosters and all the other delightful toys I'd gathered over the years. "Come on, Craig, don't be a stranger," he called behind him—and sure enough, I caught sight of his large frame entering my room just as Scott's hands pushed me firmly onto the makeshift changing table.

He was in my room. I mean, Scott's room. Not mine. So I guess I couldn't complain... could I? But he's going to see me- Going to see me all smelly and messy and naked-

Again, not that I had a choice. "Just going to clean up my little baby here," Scott offered over his shoulder in an almost conversational tone. "Heads up in case you're squeamish. He's pretty rank tonight!" "Hell, I've seen a lot worse than a shitty diaper," Craig chortled from somewhere in the room - and then I felt the rush of cool air on my tingling skin. Oh yes- But oh no- I was naked now,  naked as the day I was born, and Scott and this stranger and god and everyone could see-

Maybe if I squeezed my eyes shut I could pretend I wasn't there.

"Nice cage," I heard the giant remark coolly. "Just about the right size for such a tiny little cock, huh?" I felt Scott's hand wiping away my filthy mess, and he chuckled. "Oh, yeah! See, he loves these diapers far too much. Can't have him crawling around all day humping and grinding on everything he sees... Can we now, little one?"

I writhed in silent humiliation, my cheeks flaming even as I felt the cool wash of lotion being massaged into my bare booty. Daddy's taking care of me- but humiliating me- But I deserve it, I guess...

And then the crinkle of plastic finally sounded. I blinked gratefully up at the ceiling again, never so glad to have felt the welcome touch of a dry diaper safely enfolding my private parts. Some adult part of my brain sensed full well the strange irony: that I wanted far more for this stranger to see me thickly diapered—diapered like an absolute infant—than to be naked. But yes... it was true. After all, better to be safe as Daddy's little diaper boy than to be his vulnerable, exposed, caged, small-dicked little sub...

"Baby, you haven't had any supper yet, have you?" Scott was pulling me upright now, having fastened my fresh, boosted MegaMax around my waist. "Come on, Devin! Let's get you fed up before bed." "Man, what's a big baby like him even eat?" Craig was openly laughing at me now as Scott tugged a T-shirt over my head. "I bet he'd love to suck on some great big titties like a real baby, wouldn't he? But then again, I don't suppose we've got any of those around here..."

And then I heard it as Scott herded me out the door. "Hey, how about a nice thick cock?"

***

They fed me in the end: after cuffing my hands to the chair so I couldn't squirm away or feed myself. Scott typically didn't spend a lot of time making my diet super babyish, but at Craig's urging, tonight was quite the exception.

"Babies like him don't need solid food, Scott," he'd chortled—and with that, I'd ended up with whatever remotely babyish fare they were able to rustle up from the pantry: what must have been three or four packets of Quaker oatmeal, a large bowl of applesauce, and a full bottle of soy milk. Craig stood there, grinning openly while my Daddy tucked spoon after spoon into my mouth. It was perhaps the most humiliating meal I'd ever experienced: stuck in my chair in nothing but my babyish T-shirt and diaper, being force-fed toddler food while a virtual stranger looked on, offering chilling suggestions on how to make babies like me behave. And yet, even in the midst of my littlespace fog I couldn't ignore the tingling tension mounting higher inside my cage...

Once I was stuffed full, much to my surprise Scott refilled the bottle I'd just drained and handed it back into my now-cuffed-together hands. "Let's get you off to bed so the big boys can have some playtime," he chuckled—and of course, like the good little boy I was, I waddled off to my room in shamefaced, crinkling compliance. "That bottle better be empty by the time I come in to check on you, Devin. Got it?" This too was new—but I was in no place to protest.

And so it was that, at the end of that long, long day, I found myself back in the makeshift crib I now called mine. Through the wall came muffled sounds of delightfully sordid adult pleasure: guttural moans, sharp smacks, the thumps and creaks of the bed straining to contain the enthusiasm of their love-making. I suckled harder as I listened, repressing the burps that threatened to spill outward. I was baby—Baby Devin—and I had a bottle to drink. Daddy Scott needed me to drink it, and so I would.

Yet still the noises rang out, jarring oddly with the littlespace fog that still filled my brain... and setting something atingle once more between my splayed legs.

So it was that once the bottle was drained, it was only a matter of moments before my hands, clinking softly in their cuffs, slipped downward to my padded crotch. Oh, what I would have given to be able to remove the cage right then! Hearing Daddy Scott moaning, the thumps and gasps of their pleasure, set me alight with envious longing. But I was Baby Devin... and I was trapped: in my cage, in my babyish padding, in my cuffs. In the rules to which I had agreed what now seemed so long ago... And yet somehow, it was precisely this helplessness that only made me more aroused...

I don't remember when I feel asleep. But I do know that I was nowhere closer to sexual satisfaction than I had been ever since moving in.