Page 47 of Kiren

“Now, lift your hips just a bit for me.”

I obeyed and he slid the diaper under my ass. He brought the rest of it between my thighs and over my cock, which was beginning to nicely tingle. He pulled the sides over and pressed them to the Velcro patch. It was done so fast I almost forgot to blink.

“There. All done, baby. Feel good?”

I nodded, sucking happily now. He’d seen my back; he wasn’t disgusted. I could relax.

Max helped me under the soft bedcovers. I curled onto my side facing away from him. It was as if I was testing him, forcing him to take a second look.

He petted my shoulder. “Brave boy,” he said.

Something wiggled in front of my face. It was Brobear. I’d dropped him on the way to the bathroom. Max had him in his hand and was teasing me with him. I opened my arms and Max let me hug him to my chest.

I moaned around my pacifier.

Max pulled the covers to my shoulders, patting them down around me, tucking me in.

“Now, everything is fine and safe. I’m going to go downstairs and grab the clean clothes. That includes your jammies if you want them for later. I’ll only be gone ten seconds.”

I moaned happily and closed my eyes.

Max didn’t lie. He came back fast. I heard him come over to look at me, but I kept my eyes closed. Then, he tromped into the bathroom, and I heard him cleaning up. I heard him pee and flush.

I let myself float. It was as if the bed was a cloud upon a cloud.

Max came back into the room. He smelled like his bottled soap which was labeled: Woods-are-Calling. It was beautiful.

He turned off the overhead light but left the lamp on. As he pulled back the covers, my back became exposed again.

“Do you have special creams, baby? I can get them.”

I could only nod once.

I heard his bare footsteps on the floor. He went to the closet and was back fast.

“I hope you don’t mind, but I found this in your backpack.”

I turned my head, half opening my eyes.

“Yours?”

I nodded.

“Would you like me to put it on you?”

I spit out the pacifier, coming up in age to reply. “It keeps the skin from cracking. Softens the edges.”

“So it doesn’t pull, right?” he asked.

“Right.”

“I’ll be gentle.”

“I don’t have much feeling on the scars themselves,” I told him. “I only wince if they are pulling at healed skin.”

“Like if someone hugs too hard?”

“Sometimes.”

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