Chapter Twenty-Three - Anson

B eing seated on Daddy’s cock is awesome, but it’s starting to make me very horny. Feeding each other isn’t helping that feeling to fade, either. But, at the same time as I feel the urge to bounce a little, I want to just enjoy this connection between us.

When Daddy softly wishes me a Happy New Year, it registers that we just ended last year and started this one literally joined together. That makes me really happy. It’s probably the most blatant metaphor ever, but I love it. We’re connected now, hopefully for the foreseeable future.

“I know it’s not Christmas anymore, but would you like to open your presents?” Daddy asks after I spend a moment too long basking in being so close to him that he’s actually inside me.

I’m hovering in this strange headspace where I’m neither Big or Little. Sucking my lower lip for a moment, I ask, “Should I be Little for that?”

“Whatever you want, sunshine,” his big, warm, callused hand rubs my hip. It makes me squirm a little, and we both groan when the movement stimulates his cock inside me, making it bump against my prostate. “There are gifts with both your headspaces in mind.”

“You’re spoiling me,” I tell him, unable to prevent grinning a little wickedly. “It’s almost like you want me to be a brat.”

“I do want to spank that perfect ass of yours,” he admits with a chuckle, nuzzling his beard into the crook of my neck, “but I really did just want to give you the Christmas you deserved for your first time as a Little.” He pauses, then seems to correct himself, “For anytime, really.”

“I knew you were a big teddy bear under that gruff lumbersnack exterior.”

He groans, but I can hear the affection in the sound. It sends a thrill up my spine because he loves me . When I first realized what I’d said back at the hospital, I had prepared a whole speech about saying it by accident, like a trained response, and I had hoped that he’d buy the excuse and not let my accidental confession make things weird between us. That had been my best-case scenario.

But then he said it back, and he did all of this sweet stuff for me, and he blew my best-case scenario right out of the water, replacing it with something even better.

“In all seriousness, though,” I tell him before he can protest my description, “thank you. Really. This” —I gesture around the room— “is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me. It’s a bit overwhelming. But in a good way!” I hurry to add.

The hair of his beard brushes the back of my shoulder before his lips meet my skin. “I’m glad you like it.”

Glancing back over to the immaculately decorated tree and the pile of gifts underneath it, I bite my lip again. “I think I’d like to open my Big presents first, if that’s okay? Then maybe I can be Little for the rest of the night?”

“You never have to ask permission to regress, honey. I love you Little or Big or anywhere in between.”

Drake groans again as I try to turn in his lap, and I ignore the momentary discomfort I cause myself by reflexively clenching around him. “I really lucked out with you, didn’t I?”

“That feeling is mutual, Anson. I hope you realize that.”

“I do,” I assure him, because he has made his feelings more than obvious. I appreciate that more than he can possibly know. But instead of saying any of that, I carefully move our wine and food out of the way, and then I start to bounce in his lap.

Breath hitching, his hands grip my hips. “Fuck, baby…”

I don’t love that I can’t see his face, but when I lean my head back onto his shoulder and he starts to thrust up into me, I can feel his ecstasy and enjoyment. It’s in his shallow breaths, and in the way his hands sweep over my abdomen and down to my cock. It’s in the messy kisses he presses to my temple and the side of my mouth.

I don’t even realize I’m making desperate “oh…oh…oh” sounds with every little bounce on his cock until he tells me how much he loves it.

“I need it harder,” I demand, still surprising myself that I enjoy taking his cock at all. How have I gone so long without knowing how good this can feel? Or, maybe, it was that I just hadn’t met the right person to make it feel good.

He stops moving —the complete opposite of what I was asking for— and his big palm pushes at the middle of my back. “Hands and knees, baby. On three.”

Counting down, we make it happen, moving together while maintaining our connection. It’s as though we silently agreed that it would suck to separate, even for a few seconds.

“This okay?” Drake pants as he starts to move, taking advantage of the change in position. His thrusts become longer and deeper, making me moan.

“Yes, Daddy. Harder.”

With his fingertips digging into my hips, he complies. It is absolutely perfect. Communication devolves into a series of grunts and groans and whimpers. My “oh, oh, oh”s escalate into sharp cries of “yes, yes, yes” and “there, right there's.

“Fuck, baby, I love how vocal you are,” Drake praises between heavy breaths. “Tell Daddy what you like. What you need.”

“M-my cock. Jerk my—oh, God, yes!” I’ve leaked so much precum that the glide of his hand over my shaft is effortless. “Oh, God, Daddy…I’m going to come.”

“Do it,” he encourages, sounding strained and breathless. I shut my eyes as his hand squeezes just a bit tighter around my cock, stroking me faster. “Come for me. Be my good boy. Come for Daddy.”

That’s all it takes to send me hurtling over the edge. “Fuck, Daddy! Fuck, fuck, fuuuuuck !”

I barely register his answering, gravelly “fuck, baby” as my orgasm triggers his, because I’m too busy collapsing from how surprisingly intense my own was. My heart is hammering wildly and my head is spinning.

Definitely a very happy New Year to me!

* * *

“Daddy! It’s a doctor’s bag!” I hold up the gift I’ve just unwrapped; a child’s play pretend medical kit, complete with plastic stethoscope, thermometer, blood pressure cuff and reflex hammer, among other things. I’ve already opened a variety of other presents, including some new Little clothes, toy cars, and stuffies, but this one has got me super excited. “Daddy, the box says the stethoscope works!”

“It does,” Daddy replies indulgently, and his smile makes me feel all gooey inside.

In the end, we went to bed after we had sex last night, and when I woke up I wanted to be Little, which meant I got extremely animated about the gifts under the Christmas tree. I haven’t looked at any of my Big headspace presents, but I don’t think Daddy minds that. They’ll be there when I’m ready to be Big again.

I can feel a sly grin quirking my lips when I ask, “Can we play doctor, Daddy?”

“You’re insatiable, aren’t you?” He chuckles.

“I don’t know what that big word means.” Relishing in his amused snort, I hold up my gift again, making my eyes as round and pleading as I can. “Please, Daddy?”

“You know I can’t resist you when you ask so nicely.”

I scramble to open up my toy medical bag, pulling all the bits and pieces out of their packaging and then putting them all into the old-school style bag. Then I remember my coat. I brought one with me after my shift last night!

Clamoring to my feet, I snatch up my bag and tell Daddy to stay in the waiting room until I call him in for his exam. His renewed chuckles follow me down the hallway to his bedroom.

Once I’m there, I strip all the way out of my onesie and diaper, putting on my white coat and nothing else. Kicking my pile of discarded clothes out of the way, I head back into the makeshift waiting room.

I make a show of pretending to look around the room at my many waiting patients, then ask, “Mister Daddy?” as though the name could belong to anyone there.

He nods and pushes to his feet, and the look on his face is stuck somewhere between amused and horny.

“This way, please,” I tell him, turning around and leading the way to my pretend consulting room. Once we’re there, I point at the bed. “Take a seat.” He does as told. I reach for my medical bag and hang the stethoscope around my neck. “Now, Mister Daddy, what brings you here today?”

“Just a general checkup,” he answers easily. “I have to make sure I’m in good shape so I can look after my Boy at home, you see.”

I nod. “Yes, that is important.” I hum as I look him over, now feeling a spark of impatience. “You should take off all your clothes now.”

Daddy startles and laughs. “Buy me a drink first, Doc.”

I giggle, then remember that I’m the doctor and try to put my serious face back on. Raising my chin, I explain, “I need to give you a thor…thur…um… in-depth exam, Daddy.”

“If you say so, Doc.”

Though his words are teasing, he does what I asked, taking off his shirt, sweatpants, and underwear.

I grin at his erection and he arches an eyebrow before glancing down at my hardening cock.

It takes all my willpower to keep playing the game, listening to his heart and breathing through the plastic stethoscope, tapping his knee with the plastic reflex hammer, and then taking his temperature orally with the pretend thermometer.

“It all looks pretty good,” I tell him, “but now I think you need a full physical, too.”

“Oh? Isn’t that what you were doing?”

Shaking my head, I set my toys aside and run my hands over his hairy chest, massaging his muscles as I take my time exploring him. When I get to his straining cock, I take myself in hand as well.

Daddy smacks my forearm —the one attached to the hand on my own erection— and ‘ tsk ’s. “This is my exam, Doctor. You shouldn’t be touching yourself.”

I whine. “But Daddy—”

“Nope. Let your cock go, sunshine.”

“Will you touch me, Daddy?”

He shakes his head. “You’re the doctor here. I’m the patient.”

I pout exaggeratedly. “ Please , Daddy?”

“You know, I don’t even think a doctor should be touching my cock, either…”

I gasp. “But—”

“Keep going with my exam, please, Doctor Anson.” There’s a challenging glint in his eyes and I realize that he wants me to break the new rules.

As much as he’s threatened to spank me, I haven’t yet given him a reason to.

This is my chance to be a little bratty.

Understanding my new mission, I pretend to do as he has said, getting out the blood pressure cuff and wrapping it around his big, brawny bicep. When I play with the squeezy air-pump, I casually trail my free hand back down his body and then stroke his cock again.

“Anson…” he says in warning.

“Oops?” I reply, unable to hide my smile, but I do remove my hand again.

“This is your first and only warning,” he tells me. “If you disobey me again, you will be going over my lap.”

I can’t hide the way my cock jumps happily at the threat. Who would have thought the idea of being spanked would ever appeal to me?

A lot of the appeal is in getting to try something new with Daddy, I think. But I can’t deny that I feel a thrill at disobeying him, too. A feeling of excitement at being naughty and risking the consequences in a controlled environment. It’s like a micro-adrenaline rush, knowing that I’m controlling the situation, that I get to decide when my punishment will be delivered.

There’s a tickle of anticipation and almost-fear there, too, because I know that Daddy’s palm on my bare ass is going to sting and maybe even mark me up.

But I do want it.

We return to playing, and I pull out a plastic syringe and pretend to give him a shot, then offer to kiss his boo-boo better. He lets me do that and, the moment my lips meet his skin, I can’t resist reaching for his dick again, my heart thumping wildly at this deliberate act of defiance.

“That’s it,” he growls, grabbing my wrist, “you were warned, baby.”

He’s got me bent over his lap in a blink, and cool air breezes over my ass as my coat is lifted and folded over my back. I shiver, whether at the cool air or anticipation, I’m not completely sure.

“Good boys listen to their Daddy, Anson,” he says, and his hand rubs over my left cheek in firm circles. “Did you listen to me?” His hand shifts to my right cheek and repeats the motion. I shiver again.

“N-no, Daddy.”

“You’re going to get ten smacks for disobeying me,” he says. Then, gently he asks, “Do you remember your safe words?”

“Red light to stop,” I answer, feeling a bit jittery now.

“Good. If it’s too much, or you hate this, you use that safe word.”

The jittery feeling eases a bit, knowing that I’m still in control here. This is for fun. It’s going to hurt, but I can stop if it’s not something my Little side needs after all.

With how hard my cock is and how fast my heart is beating, I don’t think I’m going to hate it, though.

“Yes, Daddy.”

“There’s my good boy,” he croons, then follows it with, “I want you to count the spanks, okay?”

“Yes, Daddy.”

“God, the things you do to me…” he mutters under his breath. I’m proud of myself for half a second, before a stinging, resounding smack lands on my ass and I jolt forward with the shock of it.

“W…One,” I remember to count, hearing the breathlessness of my own voice.

His palm meets my flesh twice more in rapid succession, making me gasp and wince. “Two, three.”

“Good boy,” he praises, and I feel him rubbing my skin soothingly. The praise fills me with warmth, even though I know there’s more to come.

By the time we’ve reached seven, my lip is quivering, but I can’t explain why. It’s not like the pain is unbearable. In fact, I think he’s going easy on me. But I feel like I’m getting more and more Little, even while my dick is getting harder with how surprisingly hot this whole situation is.

Tears trickle down my cheeks at “N-nine”, and I cry out “Ten!” when Daddy lands his final smack, but I’m oblivious to that. My head feels super floaty, like I’ve just had the most intense orgasm of my life and I’m drifting in the afterglow.

I could get used to this.