Daddy's Home (Part 6)

This is a series of shorts I was commissioned to write by a patron. Previous section can be found here: https://www.patreon.com/posts/41583207/

The Baby sat in his high chair, arms crossed as he waited patiently for supper. The Maid was waiting by the bottle warmer, watching as it got up to a good temperature for consumption, tapping her finger on the counter. She was particularly grateful to be back in panties, for all the freedom of motion it gave her - not to mention, they didn’t smell nearly as bad. 

For her own dinner, she’d gone with something easy and put leftovers in the microwave. There was no need to make anything fancy when Daddy wasn’t home. 

The heater beeped before the microwave, and she picked up the bottle, carrying it over to the Baby and holding it up so he could drink. The formula, they both knew, was laced with diuretics to make it difficult for the Baby to regain his potty control, but it was what he got served with dinner, and there was no arguing the point. 

He sucked on the bottle, the formula trickling slowly down his throat as the Maid held it in place for him. The bottle was sized appropriately for an adult, and it took a while to drink it down, but there was no hurry. The Maid was done with her chores for the day, and the Baby just had playpen time after this. 

Once he was done drinking, she wiped his mouth up with his bib, took it away, and picked up one of the oversized baby food jars that she’d prepared that morning. Mostly fruit purees, with a few vegetable options and some other stuff to make sure there was good nutritional value. Tonight, he’d get mashed potatoes and then strained peaches. 

The Baby ate it all up one spoonful at a time, and didn’t complain when she got a little on his chin. As per their usual dinner ritual, she got some on his chin on purpose, so that she’d have an excuse to wipe his face with the bib again. When she didn’t, Daddy always corrected her, so by now it had become habit. 

“Here comes the airplane!” she cooed, bringing in a last spoonful. 

The Baby held open his mouth, said, “Aaah,” and accepted the scoop of food, chewing and swallowing it down. 

As he finished eating, he felt a gurgle in his belly. Not the most unusual of timings, though he knew he wouldn’t get a change right away since she would have to eat first. Oh well. Holding it was against the rules. Screwing up his face, the Baby began to push, making a mess in the seat of his diaper. 

The Maid wrinkled her nose and sniffed, but she knew based on his expression what had happened. Reaching around, she checked the back of his diaper, waving her hand in front of her face at the smell. “Well, you’re a little stinky, aren’t you? I’ll get you changed once I’ve had my dinner.” 

“Okay,” he said, blushing sheepishly. At least he hadn’t needed to go before he ate. Being fed dinner in a smelly diaper was particularly humiliating. 

The Maid took her dinner out of the microwave and ate it quickly, while the Baby swung his legs on the high chair and waited, playing with plastic cutlery to make the time go by. Once she was done eating, she rinsed off the dishes, the bottle, and the empty jars, loaded the dishwasher, put away the bottle heater, wiped up the counter, and finally moved to unlock the high chair and let the Baby down. 

Though she couldn’t actually carry him up to the changing table - he was as tall as she was, after all - she led him by the hand the whole way up the stairs to the nursery. 

One diaper change later, he was sitting in his playpen, stacking blocks while she took a moment to relax, just sitting down to read a book. 

About ten minutes later, Daddy got home, leading his Pup by a leash. He called out from downstairs, and the Maid left the Baby in his playpen while she hurried down to greet him, taking his coat and putting away his shoes. 

The Pup was on his hands and knees, and pawed excitedly at Daddy’s leg. 

He chuckled, looking down at the Pup. “Alright, boy. You can go play with the Baby, but make sure to use lube. I don’t want you hurting your toy.” Looking around, he began surveying the job that the Maid had done cleaning. “How were things, this evening?”

“Good, Daddy,” she supplied, quickly, as the Pup hurried past her to get upstairs. “The Baby’s been fed, changed, and is in the playpen. I can start on your supper right away.” 

“I already ate,” Daddy said, simply. “Some coffee would be in order, though.” 

“Of course, Daddy.” She scurried away, starting up the brewing process. When she returned, Daddy had out his phone, and was watching a video. 

She couldn’t help her curiosity, peeking at the screen. “Daddy… is that the kitchen?” 

“Just watching what you were up to,” he said, fast forwarding to dinner. “Did I not tell you about the cameras?” 

“You didn’t, Daddy.” She was fairly certain the question was rhetorical. 

He didn’t seem upset, which was good. In fact, he was smiling. “It seems you were both on model behavior today, without me needing to even see it. I’m impressed, Maid.” 

She wasn’t sure how to respond to that, except to say, “Thank you, Daddy.” 

He looked her in the eye. “Why didn’t you try and cheat?” 

“Because…” She didn’t know how to respond to that, either. “I suppose, we didn’t see the point.”  

Beaming, he said, “Well, then. That’s wonderful to hear, I knew you’d come around to my way eventually. It wasn’t hard, was it?” 

“No, Daddy.” 

Upstairs, the sound of moans started up as the Pup took his bitch for a ride. The Pup wasn’t the only one moaning. 

Daddy smirked, addressing the Maid. “Be honest. You enjoy this, don’t you?” 

She blushed, and answered truthfully. “I… yes, Daddy.” 

Nodding, he said, “Well then. I think the two of you deserve a reward for being so good today. You may do whatever you like tonight, and there’ll be something special waiting for you tomorrow.”