I awoke to sticky legs, and an empty bed.

My pull up had leaked, a trail of urine down my legs, and a small puddle on the bed underneath me.

I looked around the room, ready to call out to daddy and ask for a change.

Then I realized, he'd know. One way or another, and there was no getting out of it.

Daddy walked into the room, and quickly spotted the wet pull up. I looked to his left and saw him holding up the wet pair of boxers.

I blushed, and looked down guiltily.

"It was an accident. But I didn't want a rash, daddy!" I whined. He sighed, tossing his way too ruined boxers into the trash.

He came over to me, and sat down in the dry part of the bed.

"I shouldn't have made that a punishment. You could have got a rash, and daddy is very sorry. But you did misbehave and you still haven't learned your lesson. I've got to go somewhere today, and I expect you to be nice to the babysitter. He will give you the punishment." Daddy explains.

I nod, nervous. I don't want a babysitter. One, I'll miss daddy way too much. Two, I don't want anyone seeing me little. Three, who will change my diapers and give me my bath?

But I can't tell daddy I'm uncomfortable with the idea of a babysitter. He's already mad at me as it is.

Daddy gets up and starts to leave, so I grab the Hem of his shirt and tug it. He stops in his tracks and turns to look at me. "What, little one?" He asks.

"Where are you going?" I ask him.

"Something for work. Follow me, little one. We should change you before the babysitter gets here."

I follow daddy out of the room and into my bedroom. He lays me on the floor, sliding the pull-up off swiftly, wiping down my sticky legs, putting cream on my butt, and taping a diaper on me.

He slides a white T-shirt on me, and a pair of baby blue overalls. He then slips some cute little white filly socks on my feet.

"Handsome baby," he says, kissing my forehead. I giggle, and peck him on the lips.

Daddy holds my hand until we teach the living room, where he plops me on the couch, and opens the door.

A cute, shy looking boy stands behind the door, his hands shoved into his pockets, and his gaze at the floor.

"Hi Noah," Daddy says to the shy boy, who raises his gaze to look at daddy. The boy, Noah, gives him a small smile, and steps in.

Daddy lowers his voice and mumbles stuff to Noah, before turning to me, kissing my forehead, and stepping out of the house, slamming the door behind him.

Noah walks over to me carefully, and sits criss cross in front of where I am seated on the couch.

"Hi, Sephy. I'm Noah." He extends a hand to me, and I carefully shake it.

"Hi," I say quietly.

"I'm a little too," he blurts out. "Well, a switch, really." He adds.

"Do you have a girlfriend?" I ask, casually.

He shakes his head and laughs. "Nope, I'm a single Pringle. Oh, and gay. One hundred percent." He replies, still laughing slightly.

"So, what do you wanna do, Sephy?" He asks me.

"I don't know. I'm kind of hungry," I reply.

"What do you want to eat?" He asks me.

"Grilled cheese and fruit punch?" I suggest. He nods, smiling.

"I love grilled cheese." He turns on the TV, and then goes into the kitchen, starting to make grilled cheese sandwiches.

As he waits for the sandwich to cook, he pours fruit punch into my favorite sippy cup, and hands it to me.

I quickly stick it in my mouth and suck on the cool, fruity flavor.

Noah comes out into the living room, and plops a steaming plate of girlled cheese in front of me, on the ground.

"Daddy usually makes me eat in my high chair," I tell Noah.

"Do you wanna eat in your high chair?" He asks me. I shake my head no, and he smiles, sitting down next to me, his own grilled cheese in hand.

He reaches for the remote, and I smack at his hand. I'm watching Spongebob. Nobody changes the channel on me.

Noah looks up at me, and hurt flashes through his eyes. "Sowwy, I just like dis show," I tell him. He nods slowly, and sits on the couch instead of by me.

I finish eating, and hold my empty plate out to Noah. He takes it from me, and throws it into the trash, returning with a notebook and colored pencils.

"Tyler said your punishment was to write 'I was naughty but I won't be anymore' one hundred times. When your done, draw some pretty pictures for when daddy gets home," he suggests, running his hands through my hair soothingly.

He sees that my sippy cup is empty, and goes and refills it, setting it beside me.

He watched TV as I write my lines, my hand growing tired and sore. "Noah, my wrist hurts," I complain.

He leans down next to me, and massages my wrist. "You can take a five minute break," he tells me, plopping me onto the couch, and putting SpongeBob back on the TV.

I lift my sippy cup up to my lips and suck on it, happily. Noah outs his arm around me, casually, and I lean into his side.

A few minutes later, he switched the channel back to his show, and hands me the notebook.

My wrist starts to ache very badly as I near one hundred. Tears are spilling from my eyes but I don't wanna be a bad boy.

I write the last word, dropping my colored pencil, and letting out a cry.

Noah hears this, and walks over to me, lifting me up, and wrapping his arms around me, running his hands through my hair gently.

"It's okay, Sephy," he tells me. He sees my wrist, and gently massages it again. He finds my pacifier on the corner table, and slides it slowly into my mouth.

I suck on it, my eyes drooping as I fall asleep in Noah's arms.

Any idea of drawing daddy a picture, forgotten.

Sorry. School just started and I'm still settling this year. And writer's block has attacked me. This chapter is probably shitty but alot of you wanted me to update so it's something.