Page 44 of Kiren

He put me down next to the tub and turned on the faucet, testing the temperature of the water against the back of his hand.

“Your shirt will get wet, but we can use the dryer to dry it since you probably can’t get into a clean one by yourself at the stage you’re in.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Max added bubbles to the water. I knelt, squealing in delight. I put my hands over the tub edge and ran my fingers over the bubbles that immediately began to pile up on the surface of the water.

“Look, Daddy!”

“Yes, they’re beautiful.”

Max felt the water temperature again, adjusted it, and said, “Just another minute and you can get in.”

I realized as I was leaning over the edge, my ass was sticking up. My cock was hard. It was difficult to be around my daddy and not feel those feelings no matter what age I presented.

Finally, it was time to get into the water. Max helped me stand and step over the rim, holding my hands to I didn’t slip.

Slowly, I sat, the warm water enveloping me.

Of course, the hem and back of my undershirt got wet. The wetness expanded and it stuck to my skin. I tried to ignore it.

Max threw in bath toys that floated. They were a great distraction. Plastic boats and whales. Tiny yellow ducks. I picked them up and started tossing them about in the bubbles. I made the boats zoom through the waves I created whenever my hands moved through the water. It was wonderful. Like a fairy tale come true.

Max let me play, but also used a cloth to wash my legs and arms and face. He used a plastic bucket to rinse my hair, then shampooed it. How could everything about a simple bath feel so good?

My undershirt became soaked through. It was probably transparent now. Max would see discolorations on my back, if not more.

If he did, he said nothing.

I kept playing. I was innocent. Young. Things like that—like scars—weren’t my concern. They should be Daddy’s concern. I shouldn’t have to give them a second thought. But of course, I was thinking about them.

I started banging the boats and ducks into the water, making big splashes.

“Gentle, now,” Max reminded me.

“Wham! Bam! Wham!” I yelled.

“Baby, you’re splashing suds everywhere.”

I dropped my toys and made fists, hitting the water. “Wham! I don’t care. Bam!”

Max grabbed my wrists. “Hey, hey. What’s going on? Is the water getting colder? Did I get soap in your eyes?”

“Daddy.” The word came out a whine.

“Tell me.” He ran his hand up and down my wet arm.

My hair dripped water onto my face and neck and down inside my shirt.

“Can’t you see, Daddy?”

“What?”

“My shirt is all wet. Can’t you see through it?”

Max leaned back, cloth in hand, looking at me.

“See through what?”

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