AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“Yes, please.” Jason and Jesse both spoke up at the same time, earning amused grins from their Daddies.
I got a few more decisions from the guys about the finish and fixtures before they headed out for the night and I got to work. I hadn’t planned on really digging into this project for a few weeks, but that plan had gone out the window as soon as I learned that Billy wasn’t in a safe situation at home.
Even if he wasn’t in physical danger, I didn’t want him forced to spend time with someone who didn’t care for him the way Jason and Jesse did. They hadn’t known him for long before inviting him to work for them. And as soon as they found out about his situation, they committed a pretty hefty investment to help him out.
I respected that commitment and would do everything I could to make their vision a reality as quickly as possible. If that meant I would be working from five to midnight every day for the next week, I was happy to do it. For some reason, I was ready to do just about anything to make sure Billy was safe and secure every night when he went to sleep.
TWO
BILLY
After going to the diner at the far end of the city just to kill some time and stopping at a few stores along the way, I finally got home a little after ten. Dad was usually passed out by then, so if I was quiet, I could slip right past him and go straight to bed.
Not that I would get much sleep.
Since coming home to live with my dad after graduating from culinary school, I’d had some issues that made it difficult to sleep. The kind of issues that were so humiliating I couldn’t talk to anyone about them.
And I had no idea how to make them go away.
More stressful than what I was dealing with, if my dad found out any of my secrets, he’d kick me out for sure. Not because he’d have to deal with them or any pragmatic reasons like that. He hadn’t lifted a finger to take care of himself or the house since Mom died last year. But he’d never been shy about telling me how much of a disappointment I was to him or why I’d never amount to anything. From the time I started spending time with Mom in the kitchen when I was a little boy, he started to pull away from me.
He hated when I did anything that he deemed to be women’s work. Anything like cooking or cleaning or even making my own bed was all beneath me as his son. And if I did them, it was just further proof that I wasn’t worthy of being called his son.
While my mom was alive, he at least tolerated me. His disdain was mostly expressed as indifference, and he could ignore me like a champ. He put up such a good front that I had almost forgotten how much he hated me. It was easy to believe he cared about me but was just too busy to chitchat or take an interest in my life when my mom was around to pick up the slack.
It was amazing what we could make ourselves believe if we wished hard enough for it to be true.
But things went downhill fast after Mom died. I knew my dad was depressed and had started drinking a lot more than usual, but I had no idea how far gone he was. When I came back to live at home after graduation, I found out he had just abandoned Mom’s dog at a daycare facility.
That’s when it became clear that I would never have a real relationship with him. My mom loved that dog almost as much as she loved me. And if he didn’t care about Peaches, I didn’t think I was much higher on his list.
I was able to track down JJ Doggone Daycare and found out that Peaches was safely living with Jason and Tony. Jason and Jesse were kind enough to offer me a job, and they bought the dog treats I baked as an extra revenue stream. They’d been so good to me.
Not only did I get to bake for a living, even on a small scale, but I had a job I loved, and my two bosses were so cool. They were everything I wanted to be. Kind, funny, and loved by their Daddies.
Also, I got to see Peaches at work every day. That was great for me.
But without that small responsibility of having to take care of a pet on a regular basis, Dad was spiraling. Which made living with him an even more tense situation.
He wasn’t physically abusive with me, but he was getting more aggressive. A few nights ago, he threw an empty whiskey bottle at me because I woke him up when I went to the bathroom. I managed to avoid it…mostly. The base skimmed my shoulder and left a bruise, but it wasn’t a serious injury.
But if his aggression continued to get worse, I was the only outlet for him to unleash it on.
That stress was manifesting in so many ways, but my sleep issues were the most obvious. The most troubling was that I’d started to wet the bed. The last time I experienced that kind of anxiety was when I was being bullied in middle school. I was afraid to go to school every day and that fear kept me up most of the night. By the time I finally passed out, my prepubescent body was so exhausted that I didn’t wake up to go to the bathroom.
I’d just sleep in my cooling puddle until my mom woke me up for school and the stench alerted her to what had happened. It was the most mortifying experience of my life. And it was happening again.
Back then, me and Mom managed to keep my accidents from my dad by washing my sheets every day while he was at work. But now that he was always home, it was getting harder for me to change my sheets every morning and wash them regularly without causing some suspicion.
Which was why I was considering a more drastic measure.
The box of adult diapers I had delivered to a post office box was the only reasonable solution I could think of. I couldn’t just continue to piss myself every night. If nothing else, it was going to start causing rashes on my skin, and I didn’t have medical insurance. Besides, the more it happened, the more likely it was that my room would start to smell bad and my dad would figure it out on his own. I’d been leaving the window cracked all night, but it was starting to get cold, and sooner or later, he’d get pissed at me for letting the heat out.
The package the diapers were shipped in was discrete, but when I looked at the inner wrapper, my shame was on blast from every angle. Instead of choosing the kind you bought at a drugstore that pulled on like real underwear, I went to a kink shop near the diner and bought a brand that adults used for kinky age play. The kind with adhesive enclosures and primary-colored trains printed on the front that changed from blue to green after they were wet.
I hadn’t experimented with age play much, but on the few times I had gathered the nerve to visit Primal, the kink club that hosted themed nights for Daddies and Littles, diapers were interesting to me. My interest was probably practical because of my sleep issues, but it ran deeper than just for utilitarian purposes.
What really drew my attention was watching the Mommies and Daddies take care of their Little partners, changing diapers and offering them snacks and bottles. Maybe it was because the only person in the world who had ever loved me was dead, but I wanted someone to take care of me again.
