Weekend Frolics - Chapter One

"Don't forget the baby's feeding, Trent! Can't have him getting hungry while we're… you know… otherwise occupied…"

The smirk in Daddy David's voice was unmistakable – at least, it was to Aaron. He'd been with both of his daddies long enough to know not only the sort of devious things they loved doing with him, but exactly how they'd discuss them. In blandly sweet terms, of course. With phrases like "for his own good", and "what a growing little boy needs", and "helping him learn his place."

All phrases that turned him on – far, far too much for comfort.

He wriggled experimentally in place, testing his limits like a trapped puppy thrusting against the bars of his cage. But suspended as he was in his oversized baby bouncer, dangling here in the corner of his Daddies' warmly-lit bedroom, he could only manage the most basic of movements. He couldn't rise from his canvas seat. He couldn't squirm free of the restraining straps. He could merely thrust his naked toes down into the plush carpet, propelling himself upward by a few inches… before losing his tenuous footing and setting himself bobbing gently up and down, up and down, in gentle oscillations.

Bouncing. In his bouncer. Exactly like a real baby might.

"Aww, you really think I'd forget our little doodlebug's bedtime feeding?" Daddy Trent's shirtless torso gleamed in the soft light, and as he approached Aaron with a wry smile on his face, the captive young man couldn't help but wince: at the involuntary swell of his trapped cock within its cage, and at the clenching of his bumhole around the girthy plug within. Daddy Trent was so… hot. So sweetly mean to him. So tantalizingly, effortlessly, sadistically amazing…

And of course completely off limits. Because as both he and David had made clear, they weren't interested in their little baby boy doing anything with that willie of his except… well, keeping it caged. Swaddled. Dribbling and spurting into the thick diapers that had quickly become his only form of underwear over the last three years.

"Just making sure," Daddy David chortled from his place sprawled on the bed. He was wearing nothing but his favorite leather shorts and harness, and his dark eyes sparkled with quiet merriment. "You know, Trent, you seem a little preoccupied tonight. I don't suppose it has anything to do with that new paddle that just arrived? Or what I told you I was going to do with you at the play party this weekend?"

"No, no, of course not," Trent returned, but now Aaron was barely listening. His eyes were turned upward, staring through the blond frizz of his unkempt curls at Daddy Trent's lean, muscular arms. In his hands he held a weighty IV bag, nearly full with what appeared to be some kind of brownish juice. And as Aaron watched, his daddy hung it easily from the bouncer's suspending hook, his well-trained nurse's fingers drawing the feeding tube down along the bouncer straps to end, snake-like, directly in front of the Little's face.

It was time for his feeding, all right. Though it had been months since he'd received one quite this big.

Not that Aaron could do anything about it, of course. All he could do was to blink and moan out a meek little protest as Daddy Trent neatly affixed the tube into the bulbous feeding gag within his mouth, then reached for the valve. Even once the swift flow had snaked down the tube and begun to spurt into his mouth, washing over his tongue in a burst of prune and apple, he could only give another muted gurgle… a bounce… and a silent stare of pleading resignation as he began to gulp it down.

"Aww, look how happy he is!" Daddy Trent beamed, ruffling Aaron's curls and turning back to face the waiting David. "I bet he's gonna drain it before we've even finished. What do you think?"

"Think? I think you'd better get that ass of yours over here and start paying attention to me," David replied with a roguish grin. And before Aaron's eyes, he drew his imposing frame up and got to his feet. "Come here, son. Look, I know what kinds of kinky fuckery you've been cooking up for the baby this weekend. I know you love playing with him just so you can feel like you're the one in charge. But…" and here his voice dipped into a velvety-soft bass. 'We both know you're not. We both know what you really are, don't we?"

It was as if Trent began to melt before Aaron's very eyes. His hands reached tentatively for the drawstring of his shorts. His gaze, which so often loved to smirk down at Aaron in sadistic glee, dropped now in sudden bashfulness. "I- uh-" he stuttered in sudden trepidation, but David was placing one strong hand under Trent's chin and forcing it back up to stare into his face. "You're a what? Come on… tell me. Tell me – or else…"

"I'm your little bitch," Trent muttered softly. Shyly. And yet, with a ripple of quiet gratitude in his voice.

"Louder."

"I'm your- your little bitch!" Trent repeated, and as David's fingers twisted and sent his shorts and boxers tumbling to the floor, his rapidly swelling erection sprang free. "I- yes, I am- I am-"

Aaron had seen his Daddy Trent switch a few times before, of course. He knew that within that sadistic mind there lurked a submissive side. Indeed, he'd long suspected that this subbiness was precisely what made him such a devastatingly sadistic and effective Daddy. But as of late, he'd been out of the loop: locked in his crib safe and sound every night. He'd been receiving the real baby treatment, kept blissfully ignorant of whatever kinky fun his Daddies might be getting up to in the bedroom…

And honestly, even thinking back to those few times when he'd been allowed to watch, he had never been in such a helpless state as he was now. Purposely ignored. Left to dangle and bounce in silence. Staring over his force-feeding gag at the heart-fluttering sight of his two naked Daddies getting down and dirty…

"Yes, you are," David purred, and now Trent was buckling before him, bending like a pliant willow over the bed. "You're my devious, dirty-minded little bitch. Exactly like I like you." His hand reached into the dresser and produced a black paddle. "You know, I could do anything with you when you're like this. Blister your ass…"

A crack and a yelp.

"Make you bark for me."

Another crack, and Trent jerked in sudden pain.

"Hell… maybe I'll even force you to be a baby for awhile, too. Just for kicks."

Aaron stared in growing consternation and pained arousal, gulping absently at his juice and heedless of the slowly growing pressure in his swelling stomach. Daddy David- he'd actually- he'd make Daddy Trent act like- like him?

"What do you think, hmm? Want me to strap you down in his baby chair? make you choke on Daddy's special bottle?" David's voice grated with dominant lust, and Trent let out a moan as the paddle descended once more with a harsh crack. "We'll be at that party tomorrow, you know. Maybe I'll dress you in one of the baby's outfits, hmm? Diaper you? Feed you that special formula you cooked up for him? Watch you pissing and shitting your brains out… then force you to beg me on hands and knees to let me fuck your face? You know, just to earn a fucking diaper change?"

"I- No, no, not that! I- I'll be your bitch, I promise! Just please, no- not that- not a baby- please, not like that-" Trent was practically begging, face-down on the bed, his naked ass vulnerable and exposed. "Please, I'll do anything but that! It's so- so humiliating-"

"Oh, but remember? It would be for your own good!" Daddy David was stepping out of his shorts now, and Aaron gulped as he caught sight of the enormous phallus poised and ready to penetrate those bare buttocks bent before him. "It would be so good to help you remember your place, wouldn't it? Make you remember who the real boss is in this household?"

Trent's moans of pained longing swelled through the room, accompanied by the sound of David's low laughter and the grunts escaping his tight-drawn lips with every thrust. "I- yes- yes, I'm your- your bitch," he babbled between moans. "Just not baby- please- just your bitch-"

And so began one of the most unforgettable evenings of Baby Aaron's existence: an evening in which he, as the helpless baby, was forced not only to gulp down a disturbingly large quantity of medicated juice, but to watch and listen as his Daddies fucked like real men. And yes, while listening to them discussing exactly how humiliating it would be to be babied like he was.

Well, what could he – the real adult baby in the room – have said to that? Leaving aside, of course, the fact that he couldn't have said anything even if he wanted to?

More troubling still, what on earth was this play party they kept mentioning? And could this unusually large feeding of strangely sweet juice have anything to do with it?

All questions that Baby Aaron would only find the answers to over the coming days.

(To be continued!)