Page 13 of Soothing Little Sylmen

Sylmen

Sitting on someone’s lap wasn’t anything I did often. To be honest, I cannot recall the last time that I did such a thing. Maybe when I was young, some memory locked away that I don’t have access to anymore. Or maybe it was in my teen years. It’s possible that when I went to stay with my grandmother I cuddled close to her, but she was old and frail, so I never put my full weight on her.

Sitting in Gael’s lap felt like a homecoming of sorts. I mean, I barely knew the man. I didn’t even have his last name. Yet I was more comfortable with him than I had been with anyone else. It felt like I knew him. Like there was another lifetime where we’d met, like the timeline where we were reincarnated again—old friends reconnected.

It was a bit scary.

Because what do you mean I’m so comfortable? What do you mean this is natural?

I’d come prepared to fight tooth and nail to be welcomed, to have to explain myself over and over. And instead, I’d been welcomed with open arms and understanding.

And this man, this Daddy who was holding me, wasn’t bothered at all by my silence. He was content to read to me and hold me. He even showed me how to sign his title in case I wanted to use it.

Sign language was something my grandmother had tried to encourage. But when I went to live with her after the State took me from my parents, I had been so traumatized by everything that had happened that I hadn’t wanted to. Communication felt hard. If I could figure out how to speak to others, then I’d have to share more about myself.

It was easier to be silent; to not stand out.

Gael saw me even through my hiding. He was here, ready to spoil me. When I came back with the big stack of books, I had expected him to balk and tell me there was no way he was reading them all. Instead, he’d laughed and easily picked up the first.

We were nearing the bottom of the stack, and I could feel the need to use the restroom. Lunch had been some time ago and I knew that if I didn’t get up soon, I was going to struggle to make it in time. Boy, what I wouldn’t give for a diaper right about now. The thought struck me like a lightning bolt. I froze in Gael’s lap. I was still thinking of him that way instead of as my Daddy. It hadn’t really sunk in yet.

He paused the book he was reading. “Is everything okay, sweet boy?”

I leaned away from his chest so I could look him in the eye. How does one tell another person that they need to go potty without words and without pointing to their crotch? The answer is you simply don’t. I placed my hands over my lap, then wiggled a bit. His eyes lit with understanding.

“Ah, does my sweet boy need to potty?”

I nodded quickly. He placed the book face down and open so he wouldn’t lose his page, then eased me to a standing position. “Let’s go ask Amelia where the bathroom is.” I followed behind him, our fingers linked together as he made his way back up to the entry.

Amelia smiled at us, only to frown as we got closer and I kept wiggling. “We need to know where the potty is, Amelia,” Gael said, his voice soft. If anyone else had been around they wouldn’t have been able to hear him, but I was standing close enough to. I appreciated the discretion.

“Of course, of course.” She led us to the door, marked “restroom,” then left back to her post.

Daddy opened the door and ushered me inside. I went to let go of his hand, but he stopped me. Kneeling down, he made sure we were at eye level. Then he asked a question I didn’t know how to answer.

“It’s fine if you’re uncomfortable with the idea, but if you would like to stay Little, I can help you go potty.”

My mouth opened—not because I wanted to speak, but because I couldn’t believe this was happening. Daddy smiled, and yeah, there it was. He was officially Daddy in my book.

“I’ll take your surprise as shock. I need you to either nod or shake your head. Do you want me to help you potty?”

I nodded slowly. He took my hand and led me over to the urinals. With quick movements, he shifted behind me and lifted my shirt.

“Hold this under your chin, sweet boy.”

I put my chin down on the fabric, which made my eyes focus on what he was doing next. With a clinical sort of detachment, he eased my leggings and underwear down, lifting my cock out. I was semi-hard. Who wouldn’t be when an attractive man touched you like this? But it didn’t stop me from being able to go.

The process should have been awkward. I had never had anyone do this; I knew that for sure. But at the same time, I was still able to be as Little as my mind allowed, drifting in and out. When we finished, he cleaned me up and tucked me away. I loved it to the point that I knew I would probably ask him to do it again, especially if I never was brave enough to mention diapers.

Daddy walked me over to the sink and together we washed my hands thoroughly. When we left the bathroom, we went back to our special seating area, and he picked up like nothing had happened. It was a normal day for him. Yet I was falling head over heels, heart pumping wildly.

Is this what people had? This connection and bond? Were all Daddies like this? I knew the answer was probably no, that there was something special about Gael that made him work so well with me.

I didn’t let myself ruminate on it for too long. The story was too good. My mind sank back deeper into Little-space. I could feel myself drifting, like I was there one moment and the next not. I was more relaxed than I could ever recall being.

And that said a lot, because working with animals was calming for me. The ranch work was simple, yet it worked me hard, and I found myself daydreaming a lot of the time on shift. This reminded me of that, gave me the same type of peace.

When he finished the last book in the stack, Daddy turned me, dipping me back so I was leaning against the arm of the couch, and he could look into my eyes.