Page 34 of Snuggle Bug

Greyson nods. "I won’t slip up again."

Connor redirects our attention to the poster. "Second, you must do as your Daddy says. We set the rules, but following your Daddy’s are the most important."

This is obvious. I puff my chest out, determined to show Connor that I can do this. "I’ve got you."

Connor chuckles. "Lastly, when you use the hot tub, we have a strict no-clothes policy. That means that you must strip out of your teddy bear onesie before jumping in. We once had a naughty boy who climbed in wearing his ducky briefs without our knowledge. His name was Karter, and as it turned out, he was putting rubber duckies in his underpants to take home."

Greyson’s eyes widen. "What a naughty boy."

I tug Greyson’s shirt. "Come on, Daddy. Help me into my teddy onesie so I can play."

Greyson directs his gaze toward me. He peers into my eyes, then cups my cheek. "You must’ve forgotten, baby boy. You’re wearing it under your teddy t-shirt and khakis."

Sure enough, when I glance down and tug up the hem of my shirt, I see my familiar onesie that I love so much.

Greyson put it on this morning before we left. The fact that I was wearing it completely slipped my mind.

Connor grins. "You can put your daytime clothes in one of the cubbies by the bead-painting station. Have a great day."

Greyson leads me by my lower back to the cubbies, and I bounce the entire way there. I can't wait to play, and Little me is already hijacking control of my brain.

This isn’t too different from usual. Most people think that Littles are supposed to have two separate modes like an on-off switch: Big and Little mode. When doing adult tasks, they’re in Big mode, and when it’s time to be Little, they regress into their special headspace.

This couldn’t be further from the truth for Littles like me. We’re basically always Little secretly, or at least our Little side is always one minute away from bubbling to the surface. The Big world is so much less exciting than our inner, private Little one. I could be fully Big if I wanted to, but why?

Greyson helps me out of my t-shirt. He instructs me to lift my arms, then tugs it off my body. He does the same for my khakis, pulling them down to my feet and packing them into the cubby in one smooth motion.

I move my hips back and forth. "Look, Daddy. Even my wee is ready to play."

Greyson smiles, cupping my hard-on and stroking it. "Yes, it is. I know you get this way when you’re playing, and it’s more fun to let it stay hard than for Daddy to suck it. We’ll keep it just the way it is right now."

I close my eyes, relishing Greyson’s firm hand on my shaft. His thumb traces the side of my hardness, before moving to the tip and stroking it. His touch is like butter, and I melt into his hand.

I nod seriously. "You’re right."

I don't want Greyson to relieve my hornies. That’s because hornies aren’t what I’m feeling, not really. This boner is evidence of my excitement to embrace my Little side, nothing more and nothing less. It’s not an indicator of my sexual eagerness so much as my impatience to start having fun.

Greyson rises to his feet, then pecks my lips. "Come on, boy. Time to play."

Greyson leads me to the stuffy pit, then gives me a nice firm shove that sends me soaring. I laugh out loud, splashing into the sea of stuffies, flapping my arms. Stuffies of every type surround me. There are purple monsters, pink hearts, green aliens, brown teddies, and so many more. I pop my head out from under the surface, sending stuffies everywhere.

"Again!"

Greyson heaves me out of the stuffy pit. He positions me in the perfect spot, teetering on the edge, but not quite falling in. Then, he scoops me into his arms, mauls my cheek with a smooch, and tosses me in.

This time, I laugh even harder. The stuffies are so soft and plush, and they feel like clouds on my skin. It’s a miracle that nothing hard jabs into me at all, that I can simply leap and be welcomed by the softest stuffed animals in the world. Almost, it makes me feel as if I weigh nothing, as if I’m made of air.

I pick up a heart plushie and toss it at Greyson. "Gotcha."

Greyson snickers, then lobs it back at me. "You want a stuffy war, eh? You’ll pay for that."

Connor blows his whistle. "Refrain from killing each other with stuffies."

I immediately lift my hands above my head. "Sorry."

Greyson places his hand on his heart. "Aren’t you a good boy. Look at you go, obeying Connor without him even having to blow his whistle twice. You might be the bestest boy to ever come to Little Land."

I stare at Greyson, my heart thumping in my chest, feeling all sorts of pride. He can't be serious. Correct?

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