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Yep, he made a happy little hum and wiggled again.

He was going to kill me doing that or I’d just end up coming in my pants. And either way, I was going to end up with a wet shirt if I didn’t do something about the situation. The thin nursing pads I wore inside my undershirt were very discreet, but it’d been years since I’d reacted so strongly.

“Let’s see if we can make the smell even nicer.” Yes, we were going to focus on the parts he liked. Smells and cuddles and kissing. “I bet kisses can make it even better.”

I knew that for a fact, but letting him discover it on his own would be fun.

Yes, I liked watching him have fun and get turned on.

He wasn’t hiding that reaction very well at all, so it was easy to keep it at the front of my mind. His wiggles weren’t just for me anymore, and he even reached down and tugged on the front of his pants without realizing it.

There was nothing wrong with making him happy. I’d taken on the role of his Daddy, so that meant it was my job. I was in charge of his caretaking and setting healthy limits, and I needed to make sure he was happy.

That was what Daddies did.

I’d gathered as much information as I could on that, and while there were huge gaps in the knowledge on the internet,meeting his emotional needs was the primary purpose in being a Daddy.

The Daddy got some kind of emotional or physical need met by doing that caretaking. Men who’d identified as Daddy Doms online talked openly about getting aroused from their partner’s submission, even though I should’ve realized that many didn’t take their desire any further than that depending on the scene.

But Dessie’s emotional and physical needs were very closely related and he was what mattered. So it would probably be rude to get turned on in a situation like this and not do anything about it. For a moment I couldn’t decide if that was Austin logic or real logic, but I quickly realized that didn’t matter.

Dessie thought Austin had real logic, so that was the only standard that mattered.

“I like nicer and better, Daddy.” Dessie was probably thinking he was being subtle but he gave his pants another tug and licked his lips. “I like making you happy. You smile and you laugh and you cuddle.”

“You do a wonderful job of making me smile and laugh, and you’re right, cuddling does make me happy.” So it was time to see if I could get happier without panicking. “Let’s do some more cuddling together.”

Yes, that was what we would do.

We’d make each other happy and cuddle.

Reminding myself that there was nothing to worry about as long as I was making him happy, I released the top buttons on my shirt and got more happy wiggles from Dessie. “I’ll be good, Daddy.”

Higher conversational skills had evaporated, but I wasn’t sure if that was a lack of blood to the brain or a consequence of being little.

“Does that mean I’m going to get nice kisses?” That was the plan, so I wasn’t surprised when he gave me an excited nod. “I like kisses and cuddles.”

“I like kisses too…and…and I like rewards.” That sentence came punctuated with another tug and I had to remind myself that laughing would give the wrong impression of what I was feeling. “Rewards are important for good boys.”

Orgasms were important.

Got it.

“I’ll remember, sweetie.” But there was one thing we needed to discuss before his thought process got any fuzzier. So as I released another button and for the first time let him see the undershirt I was wearing, I focused on more important things than my fears. “But is there any type of reward you don’t want from Daddy?”

Dessie tried to look up and answer me but the distraction was too strong and his gaze quickly bounced back down to my chest. “I…I like rewards, Daddy.”

All right, new question.

“If you’re getting a reward, can I touch anywhere on your body, sweetie?” I wasn’t sure trying to be subtle would work but going right out and asking littlish Dessie if I could touch his dick didn’t seem appropriate.

“Not my feet, Daddy.” His gaze never moved from my chest as I worked at a few more buttons. “They tickle and that’s…that’s not a reward.”

Interesting.

“Is tickling bad or just not a reward?” How was I supposed to ask that question to get good information?

Hoping he didn’t just tell me that good boys got rewarded, I released the last button and opened my shirt. There was a very logical voice in the back of my head that pointed out I should be panicking, but he was so turned on and so utterly captivated, I just couldn’t get too worked up.

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