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"Hey guys!" Chris greeted as the we entered the restaurant.
"Hello!" Phil chirped, his arm around my waist. I snuggled into his side as we walked over to the booth that Chris and PJ occupied one side of. He looked to me expectantly, waiting for me to voice my greeting.
"Hi..." I mumbled shyly, nuzzling back into Phil's neck once the words left my lips.
Chris and PJ already knew about the various aspects of our relationship, and they had no problems with it. Well, considering they were in a dominant and submissive relationship themselves, well, in the bedroom at least, it would be pretty hypocritical of them to judge us.
"This place is so American, what the heck?" Phil chuckled, taking off his coat.
"I know!" Chris beamed. "This place only has American classics, and let me tell you, we Brits are truly missing out."
"It isn't just American, it's aggressively American..." I whispered to Phil, subtly gesturing to a mural of a bald eagle with wings spread, overtop of an American flag on one of the walls.
"I already looked over the menu about appetizers, and the guy said he'd be back around when you guys got here." PJ smiled. Phil lightly spun me around so he could take off my long black coat, then nudged my arm, urging me to sit. He took off his coat as well before settling in beside me in the booth. The seats were cracked and plastic, but I loved the vibe they gave this place. It transported you back to an American diner from the 1950s.
I spotted a man in an apron approaching our table, so I pulled on Phil's sleeve. He looked up at the man before turning his head back to look at me. He leaned down and whispered, "No alcohol."
I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip.
"Put that lip away, Baby." He ordered quietly. "You know you're too little for that stuff."
I nodded my head in understanding. "Juice, Daddy?" I asked quietly.
"Sure, baby." He grinned at me, pressing a quick kiss to my cheek.
"Hi, my name's James, and I'll be your waiter this evening! Is this bill going to be together or separate?" He asked, a little too enthusiastically, and pulled out an order pad. He set a few menus on the side of our table. I couldn't tell if he was gay, but he definitely acted flamboyant enough to be assumed as one.
"This bill is going to be separate, thank you." Chris answered for us. "It'll be the two of us, and then those two on another."
"Okay!" James smiled brightly down at us. "Can I get you started with some beverages?"
"I'll have a pint of whatever you've got on tap." Chris decided, already pulling out his driver's license and holding it out for the waiter to inspect.
"I'll have a soda. Whatever you put in my cup is fine, I don't care." PJ answered, opening one of the menus.
James scribbled the orders down. "For you two?" He asked, turning to us and flipping to a new sheet.
"A raspberry beer for me, and do you have any type of juice?" Phil questioned, pulling out his wallet to show the waiter his I.D.
"We have orange, apple, and grape." James informed, looking at Phil's license before motioning him to put it away.
"Great!" Phil smiled, tucking his wallet back into his pocket. "He'll have some apple juice and a glass of water."
"Sir, it comes in a juice box. We usually reserve those for children..."
"Can he have one anyway?" Phil asked the waiter impatiently.
My cheeks burned.
James looked us up and down before shaking his head with a mumbled, 'whatever works for you,' and wrote down the order. "I'll be back in a few moments with your...drinks." He said lightly, tucking the order pad into his pocket and walking away.
"Any suggestions?" Phil asked Chris.
"Have you ever had a Rueben?" Chris questioned seriously.
"What's that?"
"Okay," Chris started, his eyes lighting up. "It's this sandwich with, don't freak out okay, sauerkraut, Swiss cheese, some weird beef, and Russian dressing served on rye bread."
"That sounds disgusting!" Phil laughed.
"No!" Chris whined childishly. "It's so good!"
"Here baby," Phil chuckled, handing me one of the menus, while he ignored Chris. I took it with a mumbled thank you and flipped through the pages. I had only began to look when James came back with our drinks.
"A pint for him, soda for curly mop, a raspberry beer for you, and a juice box and a glass of water for the shy one." The waiter said to himself as he set the drinks down in front of us.
"Are you guys ready to order, or do you need a few minutes?" He asked, clasping his hands behind his back.
"I think we're ready," Chis began, picking up his menu once more. "I'll have a Ruben," PJ rolled his eyes and made the puking gesture, "with chips, please."
"Okay..." James wrote down the order before looking at PJ.
"I'll have grilled cheese and tomato soup." PJ ordered.
James flipped the order pad and turned to us.
"I'll have two eggs, scrabbled, and wheat toast." Phil said politely. He turned to look at me and whispered, "Mac-and-cheese okay for you baby?"
I nodded, and took the straw off of the juice box and poked it through the aluminum hole at the top.
"Mac-and-cheese for him." Phil told the waiter, and closed the menu he was holding. He grabbed my menu from me and put it on the stack PJ and Chris had already made with their menus.
"Really?" Chris asked Phil. "Breakfast and raspberry beer?"
"At least I'm not eating a sandwich filled with sauerkraut! Who even likes that?"
Phil and Chris continued to bicker, and I just looked at PJ with a gaze that I hoped screamed, "help me."
PJ only shrugged his shoulders, and pulled out his phone. I sighed. I wished I could have my phone, but it was in Phil's pocket. He didn't and let me carry my phone when he was with me, because he was afraid that it would fall out of my pocket and break.
I nudged his shoulder. He stopped arguing and looked down at me. "Hold on a second, Chris."
"Phone, Daddy?" I asked with big eyes.
"Here, baby." He pulled my phone from his pocket and gave it to me, then turned back to argue with Chris.
I unlocked my phone and grabbed my juice box, taking a long sip.
---
I had just finished my juice box and my glass of water, and had began my 17th game of flappy bird when James returned with a tray of food that smelled strongly of cabbage. I handed Phil my phone, not wanting to get anything on it.
"I swear to God, if my eggs taste like sauerkraut..." Phil muttered, putting my phone back into his pocket as James set down the plates before us.
"Careful, it's hot." He warned as he set down the mac-and-cheese. I nodded and made sure to not touch the edges of the plate.
"Do you want another water?" James asked.
I nodded and handed him the glass.
Phil looked at me with concern, but said nothing. I thought nothing of his strange look, and following Chris's example, began to dig into my meal.
James brought my glass back in record time, and I murmured a small thanks before taking a sip.
Phil leaned down and whispered into my ear, "Babe, you're going to wet yourself if you don't take it easy."
I only humphed. I would show him. I was a big boy. I wasn't going to have an accident like a little baby. I defiantly took another sip, looking him straight in his eyes as I did.
"You haven't worn any nappies in quite a while...I'd hate to see you in them again." He sighed before turning back to his meal. I smiled in triumph. I would prove him wrong.
I hadn't worn a nappy in two months, including during the night, and Phil had just taken the waterproof cover off of our mattress a few weeks ago. This was a challenge I would easily defeat.
He unwrapped my silverware for me, and pulled my plate closer to him. With my fork and knife, he divided my meal into four sections. The rules were I had to eat at least two of them, but sometimes we compromised when I wasn't feeling well, or when I had eaten too many chicken nuggets before we went out to eat.
He slid my plate back to me, then took a sip of his beer, sighing when I copied his actions with my water, gulping down a good fourth of what was in my glass.
---
It was halfway through our meal when the first pain made its way into my stomach. I set down my fork and clutched at my tummy.
Uh oh.
I must have looked scared, because Phil began to rub my back, and asked if I was okay.
"I'm fine, Daddy." I assured him, crossing my ankles under the table. I refused to let him win. I could hold it until we got home. Then I'd really prove him wrong.
"You sure?" He asked.
"Yes Daddy." I assured him, feeling the familiar tingling in my abdomen.
"Okay...are you not hungry, baby?"
"I'm alright." I told him again, trying to make him drop the subject. "I'm just full." I lied.
He examined my plate, before looking back to me. "Try to eat a little more, okay?" He pleaded. "Here." He bargained, picking up my fork and separated a third of what food was still on my plate from the rest. "You only have to eat this much."
My stomach tightened, but I hesitantly picked up a forkful of macaroni and placed it in my mouth. "Okay, Daddy." I agreed, swallowing.
He leaned over and kissed me on the cheek, but then turned back to Chris and PJ who were having a grown up conversation.
I continued to eat, keeping my eyes glued to my plate as the urge grew. It became all consuming, being that only thing I could think of. I was about to surrender and ask Phil to take me to the bathroom when the urge stopped. It just suddenly passed.
That happened sometimes. Phil called them 'false alarms.'
I contentedly ate my mac-and-cheese after that, and even answered a question PJ had asked me during the 'big boy' conversation. But then I started to feel uncomfortable.
Cold and wet.
I looked down in dismay, and eyed my soaked front. Phil was going to be so mad. He told me to always tell him when I had to use the bathroom, but I hadn't.
I gently pulled on his sleeve.
"Hmm?" He hummed, still looking over at Chris.
"Daddy! Look." I whispered, discretely pointing towards my soaked pants. He turned to me and followed the direction of my finger to my soaked crotch. "I had an accident..." I muttered, my cheeks blushing red.
"Dammit!" He muttered under his breath.
He looked a bit panicked for a moment, but then he brought a hand up to my forehead. "Baby, you're warm." He said, trying to sound surprised.
PJ and Chris were now looking at me. "Is he okay, Phil?" Chris asked, sounding genuinely concerned.
"I hate to do this, but I'm going to take him home..." Phil sighed, and started to put on his coat.
He reached into his pocket once his coat was on, and pulled out his cool wallet with Ash and various Pokemon on it. He reached inside and pulled out some money, then laid it down on the table. "This should cover the bill..." He murmured.
I pulled on my coat as well, not wanting the entire world to see the large wet patch on the front of my jeans.
"I'm really sorry, guys." Phil apologized, standing up. I zipped up my coat and followed suit, standing beside Phil as he excused us.
"It's perfectly fine!" PJ reassured, looking me over with worried eyes. "Feel better, okay?"
"I'll try." I answered him weakly.
"Come on, let's get you home." Phil said, making sure he was loud enough to be heard by Chris and PJ, before leaning close to my ear and whispering, "So I can punish you."
A chill ran down my spine.
He kept his arm around me as he dragged me out of the restaurant. When we exited, the door chimed, and someone called after us, telling us to have a good night. Phil let out a shaky breath into the cold, dark air of London. It looked like he was blowing a plume of smoke from a cigarette, or perhaps made him look like an ice dragon.
"Come on." Phil said harshly, pulling on my arm when I began to dawdle. He smacked my ass lightly and pulled me closer to his side.
And this time when I shivered, it wasn't from the cold.
---
When we reached our building my stomach dropped. I wasn't ready to face the punishment Phil would surely give me. He pulled me inside, and began to scoot me up the stairs. I whimpered.
"What happened, Dan?" Phil asked, his eyebrows creasing. "I don't understand. Did I not notice you trying to get my attention?" He questioned further. "Did you even try to get my attention?!" He fumed, catching me as I almost lost my balance from being forced up the stairs.
"I told you earlier to slow down, but did you?" He questioned angrily. "No! You're too stubborn to listen to me. To listen to your Daddy. Would this have happened if you had been a good boy and took my advice? No, it certainly would not. We would still be at the restaurant with Chris and PJ, or maybe I would have taken you out for ice cream. But that isn't going to happen now." He scolded, finally pulling me into our apartment after unlocking the door. "I thought you didn't need nappies anymore!" He grumbled.
"I don't!" I protested meekly. "I'm a big boy!"
"No." He argued, his grip on my arm turning painful, "You aren't a big boy. You're a little boy. A baby."
I whimpered. I was a big boy. Sometimes big boys made mistakes! I wanted to tell him this, but he was seething, and I didn't want to make things worse for me.
Phil turned to stare at me. "Daniel, do you know what happens to baby boys that don't listen to their daddy?" Phil reprimanded me.
I nodded and answered in a small, weak voice. "They get punished."
He unzipped his coat and hung it up, then did the same for me. He was still considerate and sweet even when he was mad at me. It made my heart a little warmer. Even though I knew of what was to come, it was still nice.
"Come on." He sighed grabbing my hand and pulling me along after him. I waddled after him, mostly because of the uncomfortable chafing of the scratchy material of my boxers against my sticky skin.
Phil led me to our bathroom, and pushed me inside. "Take off your jeans and underwear, then put them in the sink." He instructed, putting the plug into the sink's drain and turning on the cold water. I tugged the denim off my thighs and worked the wet material down my legs. I kicked them off my ankles, then put them in the sink like Phil had said. "Sit." He commanded, pointing the the toilet. I slid the boxers off of my legs and timidly held them out to Phil. He gave me a small smile as he took them, then pointed to the toilet again, turning around and setting the boxers inside the water bath.
I complied, and sat down on the cold porcelain. He turned on the sink and rearranged my jeans so that the crotch was the main part submerged in the water. He turned off the cold stream of water, and ran his hand through it, not looking at me.
"You did so well last week at the Chinese restaurant..." He murmured to himself, head still turned away from me.
"Daddy?" I asked quietly.
"Yes, Little One?" He hummed, still not looking at me.
"Why did you put my jeans in the sink?"
"My mum used to do this to my clothes when I had an accident." He mused, still running his fingers through the cold water. "She would do exactly what I just did. She would fill the sink, take my soiled clothes, and tell me to sit down. I always had to help her scrub any stains out," he almost giggled, "She said I would need to know this stuff for when I had a baby of my own." He turned and looked at me. "Back then I didn't know what kind of baby." He offered me a half-smile, which I lukewarmly reciprocated.
He met my eyes for a moment, but as soon as he did, he looked away. He turned, facing the door. "Dan." He said firmly, not turning around, but still getting my attention. "Take a shower, but I want you out in ten minutes." He snapped, walking out of the door, and leaving my pants in the sink.
I sighed, but turned toward the shower and turned on the warm water, hoping we still had a little bit of soothing, hot water running through our pipes.
---
"Daddy?" I called, walking into our living room. I was completely naked, and my hair was still slightly wet from my super quick shower.
"Bedroom." His deep voice commanded from down the hall.
I walked towards his room slowly, wanting to prolong this as long as possible. I gently opened the door to his room and gaped when I had fully opened the door. "What's this?" I whispered.
I looked at the half-made green and blue bedspread with curiosity and slight disgust. Upon the bed he had a pair of short, white underwear, plastic pants, a butt plug, some lube, and an overly large sweater that I had never seen before.
"What's this, Daddy?" I asked, my cheeks going red.
He didn't answer my question, instead motioning me to lie down on the bed. I hesitantly sat down, and slowly reclined back until my head touched one of the pillows.
He uncapped the bottle of lube and lathered up two fingers. He brought his one hand to my hip and gave it a squeeze before muttering, "Hold still." I watched as he brought one lube-coated digit down to my ass and slipped in without warning. I whimpered quietly. He worked his single finger inside of me for only a moment, then pushed in a second. I shuddered at the new intrusion.
He pushed his fingers in and out for a a few minutes, wiggling them back and forth and scissoring them to make sure I was properly stretched. He barely brushed my prostate when he pulled his fingers out, leaving me feeling slightly empty and with a semi-hard dick twitching.
He then picked up the plug and eased it inside of me slowly. "There." He said quietly to himself.
He picked up the underwear with one hand, and my left foot in the other. "These," he began suddenly, "are an old pair of underwear that I won't mind if you ruin." He slid my leg into the correct hole and repeated the process on my other leg. "Up." He ordered quietly. I lifted up my hips, allowing him to pull the underwear up and over my hips without any interruption. He then grabbed my ankles again and slid the honey bear printed plastic pants up my legs. "These," he started, snapping the elastic waistbands of the plastic pants and underwear, "will have to do until I can get you some real nappies."
"Daddy!" I said in quiet protest.
"If you can't act like a big boy," He scolded, and grabbed my hand and pulled me up into a sitting position, "you can't wear big boy clothes." I wriggled uncomfortably, trying to settle the plug into a comfortable position.
He paused, then moved to the next item. "Arms above your head, baby." He said, picking up the huge sweater. It had to be at least three times my size. It was fuzzy and a nice shade of green that went well with my brown hair and eyes. It covered my front and back, going to to almost half of my thigh. The sleeves went over my hands and the neck hung low, exposing my collar bones.
"Pretty boy..." He mumbled to himself as he ogled at my bare legs. He brought his large hands up and placed them on my thighs, giving them a gently squeeze.
He looked over to his nightstand and eyed the alarm clock sitting there. "It's almost 11. I think it's time you went to bed." He said softly, sitting down beside me.
I pouted, sticking out my bottom lip. "Daddy, I don't wanna go to bed..."
"Just be grateful I'm not punishing you right now. I think the walk home was enough for tonight."
I shuddered at the memory of wet material chaffing against my skin. "Okay, Daddy." I agreed, crawling up the bed and shuffling under the covers before he could change his mind and do something undoubtably worse than a spanking right then and there.
I lifted up the covers and froze when I heard a familiar crinkling sound. He had put the mattress cover back on. "Daddy..." I muttered softly.
"I know, I know..." He sighed from behind me, still sitting down on the bed. "I know you hate it, but you need it."
I only let out a displeased grunt, then dived under the covers. I covered my head with the pillows and pouted. I could here the muffled noises of Phil getting ready for bed from under the layer of cotton over my ears.
After a few moments of him getting ready, the light that was peeking through the crack between my pillow and the bed vanished. I whimpered.
"Hush, baby." Phil said comfortingly. I felt the bed dip and heard the springs creak as he climbed in beside me. He draped the duvet over both of us, then flung his arm around my waist. I snuggled closer to him, and he tightened his grip on me.
"Good night." Phil said lowly, kissing my head softly. "I love you, Bear."
"I love you too, Phil." I whispered, breaking out of my Little persona. I breathed in the scent of him, cherishing the feeling of him lying next to me.
---
"Good morning."
"No..." I murmured, half asleep.
He chuckled. "It's time to get up, sweetheart."
"Okay, Daddy..." I mumbled, pushing the sheets from my body and sitting up slowly. I let out a yawn as I stretched. He climbed onto the bed beside me and held open his arms. I crawled to him, and onto his lap.
"Any accidents?" He asked kindly, putting my bum with the palm of his hand.
"No." I said firmly, shaking my head.
"You're so beautiful in the morning." Phil commented, looking into my eyes.
I blushed and looked down. He was only half dressed in his boxers and socks.
"I'm not going to work today. I called in and told them I was sick." He informed me.
Oh.
"Breakfast?" He questioned cheerfully.
"Not hungry..." I mumbled.
"Want your paci?" He asked.
I nodded.
He reached over to his bedside table and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out my pink Winnie-the-Pooh pacifier and smiled as I made grabby hands to him. "Manners." He reminded gently.
"Please, Daddy?" I asked sweetly.
He handed it to me, and I popped it into my mouth. He let out a content sigh as I began to suck on the pacifier. "So pretty, baby." He complimented me, pulling me closer to him and running his fingers through my fringe. I nuzzled my head into his hand.
"Come on," he said suddenly, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. He jumped up from the bed an began pulling me behind him.
"Daddy!" I whined around my paci, but hobbled along after him never the less in my sleepy state.
He pulled me into the living room, and then sat me on the couch. "You still have part of your punishment from last night."
Oh yeah.
I had forgotten about that.
"But-" I began to protest, but was shut down with a harsh glare from Phil.
"You know you deserve it." He reminded me, his lips set into a straight, firm line. "But," he began, letting his lips go lax and raising his eyebrows, "I've decided not to be as hard on you as I should..."
I looked up in surprise.
"I'm going to fuck you, and you aren't going to make a sound." He stated matter-of-factly. "But, I will allow you to choose where, and you don't have to hold it until I come."
I perked up, and slapped my hands giddily on the couch cushion.
"There?" He asked, putting a hand on the arm rest.
I nodded vigorously.
"Okay." He agreed, stripping off his boxers, exposing his hardening length. He sat down beside me on the couch, leaving me to crawl over and onto his lap.
He sat with his legs slightly parted, making it easier for him to slouch back into the couch. He stroked his dick slowly with his large hands, teasing me as I watched, fixated on the fluent motions of pumping himself up and down. I settled myself on his legs, not quite close enough to touch his dick, but definitely close enough to feel the warmth radiating from it. He paused, sparing a moment to left the sweater from my torso, then continued his quick pace.
"Come on, Baby." He groaned out, giving his cock one last squeeze before letting go. He flipped us over, having me lying down on the couch with my ass in the air, and him sitting behind me. He eased the plastic pants and tight underwear off of my spread legs. He brought his hands back up to caress my ass, then slowly gripped at the edge of the plug. He slowly rotated it as he pulled it out, stretching me a little further than I already was. I let out a little whimper around my paci when he finally pulled it out, leaving me empty and needy.
He flipped me over again, leaving me exposed to him. I crossed my legs, trying to be less vulnerable. He only gazed at me, devouring me with his eyes. The sunshine of morning filtered into the living room from the blinds and fell across his face, making his eyes seem even more breathtaking.
"Need any prep?" He asked quietly, running his hand up my side to my hip and giving it a firm squeeze. I shook my head, deciding the plug had already done enough. "Okay..." He whispered, letting go of me and sitting up.
He spat into his hand, then lowered it down to wrap around his dick. He stroked himself up and down, coating his cock with saliva. I stared blatantly with big, innocent eyes that I knew drove him crazy. He growled, returning my gaze. He stopped stroking and grabbed my legs, spreading them further.
"Alright, ready?" He asked, lining himself up with me. I gave a simple nod.
He slammed himself in, making me want to groan, but I knew I couldn't. I suppressed any noises threatening to spill and wrapped my arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer to me as he continued to thrust in and out.
He buried his face into the crook of my neck, panting hot breaths out onto my collar bones. He brushed against my prostate, and I willed myself not to make a sound. He pulled out, then slammed back in, hitting the sensitive spot directly. I let out a loud moan, the sound escaping the blockade my paci was trying to keep up.
"Hush." He commanded, slowing his thrusts.
I whimpered softly, but the paci kept it back. I nodded, looking up into his eyes as sincerely as possible.
"Good boy." He praised, picking up speed again.
I started to claw at his shoulders, trying to release some of the pleasure I was feeling through my hands instead of my mouth. He let out a moan, and continued to fill me over and over, making me want to whine, to groan, to do anything. Keeping my mouth shut was just too damn hard. I whimpered again, though I didn't let it slip out around my paci.
Everything was aching, and I knew I wouldn't last much longer. I tilted my head back and closed my eyes, trying to keep it in for another moment.
I felt Phil lean forward. "Let go." He prompted, sending me into the extraordinary nirvana that always came with not holding back any longer.
He sloppily thrust in a few more times before releasing as well, moaning freely. He slowly pulled out, then hurriedly grabbed some tissues from the coffee table about a foot away from the couch.
"Sorry," he murmured, placing the tissues under my bum to catch the come that was slowly running out.
I simply shrugged my shoulders, my eyes dropping. I was tired after our unexpected escapade, and I was about to fall asleep again.
He wiped the come from my stomach with some more tissues and cleaned himself off before chucking them onto the floor. He cleaned off my bum, then laughed softly as I made grabby hand toward him, wanting him closer to me.
He picked up my plastic pants and underwear from the floor and put them on me again before giving into my wishes. He chuckled, then fit himself in the space between me and the back of the couch. He wrapped his arm around my waist and held me tightly. With his other arm, he reached up and grabbed the blanket flung over the back of the couch and draped it over us.
I continued to suck on the paci until I fell asleep, but not before I heard him sigh contentedly and whisper, "I love you." as he kissed the top of my head.