Little Soldier Boy

	In his cockpit, Jameson floated.  His ears heard nothing, eyes stared blankly, mouth hung slack and motionless.  His pilot's suit clung to his slight frame with cables and wires flowing from his human body to his iron one, a mockery of umbilical cords.  Information flowed through the cables, sliding into his mind, showing him the world through a dozen cameras, and telling him volumes about the dust storms that lashed the broken city.  His mind, trained to process and understand all of it, considered the information as if it came from his own senses and sent back his commands through the connection port installed at the base of his skull.  The towering machine moved as his own body, taking another step down the ruined street.  Buildings that dwarfed even his mechanical form stretched into the sky, empty shells of their former glory.  The storm whipped and danced between them, dragging dusty, iron dirt behind it.  The thin atmosphere howled, the noise being cleaned and deafened slightly as it was transmitted to Jameson's mind.
	His 'head' moved, a number of lenses opening and closing to focus on multiple points.  The mech moved calmly, almost bored.  Though the connection to the machine drowned out most emotions, fear being difficult to feel without a stomach to feel sinking or hairs to feel raising, small things like body language still showed through. And Jameson was indeed bored.  Ten hours. He'd been out here ten hours and had been swimming for nine of them.  He knew that an attack was unlikely.  There were less and less of the automated drones each year with the war having ended a generation ago.  Earth had sued for peace.  Mars, her terraforming efforts shattered by the war, had accepted it.  Both sides had grown tired and a white peace with the independence of both worlds was agreed upon.  Still, a significant army of automated war machines had been left scattered across Mars still looking for an enemy. Earth had refused to retrieve them, but it was an open secret that they didn't entirely know how anymore.  But Mars had only accepted the cleanup duties.  The drones were few enough now that they could be be sought out and destroyed by hunter cadres.  Jameson had served on one such unit for the first few years of his service, when they were still needed in large numbers.  But now the drones were nearly extinct and he was relegated to escort duty.  Not that he was complaining.  That was Perth's job.
	“I'm just saying, we should be on the Crater team,” the young man complained again, “I can strip a weather unit down to the radioactives and seal it before my suit gets toasty and I'm out here raiding refrigeration units from cafeterias.  Command doesn't know what I'm capable of.”  A tired, annoyed voice broke in, “They do Perth. That's why they sent you out here. It's the farthest point to get away from your bitching.”  There was a handful of laughter through the coms and Perth only replied, “Yeah, yeah. One of us has multiple degrees in engineering.”  Ji growled back, “And one of us has an officer's commission. Guess which one is worth more right now? Don't you feel stupid for going to school?”  Even Perth laughed at that.  They were all blowing off steam.  Jameson opened the camera on the back of the mech and looked down at the wide, squat vehicle.  It's heavy treads were caked with miles of travel and long antennae and other communication devices bent with the wind.  It was a small building on treads, much of it's bulk taken up by storage for the salvage.  Shapes moved behind the thick windows.  His systems ID'd them and confirmed that they were not targets.  It was the most attention he paid them for the next few minutes.
	Perth stretched and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his eyes.  He was in the end of his shift. They were on their way back to the Entrance. “Gonna get some sushi,” he grinned at his commanding officer, “I've been saving up. Gonna get some sushi with the husband tonight.”  Ji gave him a tired smile, “Sounds nice.  I'm going to get reacquainted with my bed.”  From her command seat, the woman rubbed her temples, “This is your second run, right Perth?”  The civilian nodded, “Yeah. They always this boring?”  Ji gave him a rueful grin, “If we're lucky.”  A timer popped up on her console and the captain nodded.  Leaning forward and opening a direct line, she spoke, “Lieutenant, no tangos on our readouts. Come up for air.”  There was a brief silence before a mechanical voice replied, “Unnecessary Captain. Two hours from home.  Will stay alert.”  Ji heard the uncanny valley of the generated words.  She pursed her lips before replying, “I didn't ask Lieutenant.  Get some air in your lungs.”  Another silence. “Yes Captain.”  Ji sighed and called out, “Thirty minutes people! Keep your eyes open and eat something!”  Perth was already unwrapping a granola bar.  Taking a bite, he mumbled, “Fuck, Pilots are creepy...”  Ji glared at him and Perth dropped his head, closing his mouth.
	The mech creaked in the thin atmosphere as its balance was transferred to an automated process.  In the padded cockpit, Jameson stirred.  His nose snorted before he gave a hacking cough. It was always awkward when control of his lungs was taken off of the support systems.  When his mind was synced with the mech, his biological body was kept in a vegetative state in the cockpit, cradled in a protective, padded seat. It wasn't too far removed from a bed.  A light came on in the cockpit and the young man's eyes squinted as his pupils shrank.  Sighing, his vision adjusting, Jameson began to move his limbs, stretching and tensing muscles.  Aches went through his frame, pain becoming real again after hours of feeling nothing.  He grunted, the aches fading as he moved about in the small cabin.  The young man pushed a button on a side panel and a packet of water and rations were slid out from a small drawer.  The pilot popped open the neck of the water packet and took a swig, swishing it around in his mouth before swallowing.  He felt something on the back of the packet and turned it over, finding a sticky note attached to it.  “Drink me,” it read in the low light, “All of me. Be a good boy Jamie.”  Jameson felt his face burn with a slight blush and looked down at his lap.  The WMU around his waist puffed out slightly in his suit.  His bladder ached at disuse.  Caroline really wanted him soaked by the time he got back.  The young man grumbled, but felt the slightest smile on his lips as he began to eat.  Soon, his food was done and his drink finished.  The young man leaned back and took a deep breath, trying to relax.  Jameson bit his lip and felt the first bloom of warmth around his crotch.  He wanted to be good for Caroline after all...  The young man sighed as he relaxed, filling his Waist Management Unit.  The padding swelled and brought a deeper shade of red to his face.  The garment was standard equipment to pilots. He wasn't supposed to enjoy this... But then again, his handler was the one that started it.  Jameson opened another drawer to dispose of the wrappers.  Inside of it, however, was another packet. This time of juice.  “Me too. Don't be a brat,” it read.  Fighting back a small laugh, he opened the juice and curled up in the cockpit, sipping it as he rested for a time and felt his warm padding squish.
	“I'm just saying, it's kind of messed up. Pilots are recruited when they're still kids, right?” Perth went on, chewing his meal, “Like, child soldiers?”  Ji squeezed some warm soup from it's tube into her mouth and swallowed, “That's the age they have to be treated to be able to interface. If we wait until they're adults, their brains develop out of an eligible state.  Genetic eligibility is rare enough as it is. Without the surgeries, even candidates lose the ability to connect.”  Perth waved his spoon at the Captain, “Yeah, but the military is still drafting them at, what? Twelve?”  Ji shifted in her seat, “Around that.  But we haven't 'drafted' them since the war ended.  Candidates are given the treatments at that age, but none of them are required to serve.  They get a free ride on education, housing, healthcare-”  Perth rolled his eyes, “Like all soldiers.”  Ji narrowed her eyes, “And so do their families.  And when the time comes, they can turn down service in the military and retain the benefits.  They aren't being forced to serve.  Not anymore.”  The young man only shook his head and grumbled.  “Shut up Perth,” the captain cut him off, “You didn't grow up when the war was still happening. Without the mechs and their reaction times, we would have lost. We would have died. Simple as that.”  Perth didn't look up from his meal, “And now? Why are we still creating pilots?” Ji finished her soup and gave a shrug, “You think that was the last war? I envy your optimism.”
	Before the argument could go on, the young woman manning the sensors perked up, looking away from her screen for the first time in hours, “Captain? Contacts.”  Ji snapped to attention, “Numbers? Distance?”  The girl frowned, “Looks to be... maybe one or two? Storm has the sensors twitching ma'am.  Maybe a click out?”  The bridge felt the rumble in the ground through the cabin.  “Or closer...” the young woman whimpered.  “Lieutenant!” Ji snapped, “We may have tangos incoming. We need you ready-” The viewports and camera feeds went white as the plasma round slammed home.  The glowing ball of light shattered and flowed like water over an invisible wall, leaving a black outline of burned debris around the vessel.  Perth yelped and gripped his chair as the military part of the crew got to their battle stations.  “Shield at full Captain!” bellowed one of her crew.  Ji knew that already.  The red glimmer of the shield at the impact point didn't match the blue of her own machine.  And her shields wouldn't have held against plasma of that capacity anyway.
	“Captain,” came the dead voice of the mech, “Shield-Maiden protocols active. Stay within perimeter.  Tango identified.”  The rover shook with the report of Jameson's rail gun, the shell leaving a line of burning atmosphere in its wake.  In the distance, a shape in the storm shattered and briefly caught fire.  As the pieces fell, losing their flames with so little oxygen to feed them, the mech spoke, “Tango down.  No further Tangos on sensors.  Confirm?”  Ji looked to her crewman. The girl looked over her screen and nodded.  “Confirmed Lieutenant. Good response time.”  There was that brief silence again before the reply came, “Smelled it coming.  That model smells too loud. Query. Advance to next position?”  Perth was pale in his seat. Ji allowed herself a small smile at his expense. “Agreed. Lead the way Lieutenant,” she said, closing the com link before saying quietly to Perth, “Want me to decommission him when we get back?  You know, on principal?”  Perth only leaned over and threw up into a trash can.

***

	The towering doors to the Entrance screamed with grinding metal as they closed and sealed.  The crew of the rover felt their stomachs shift as an elevator the size of a football field began to descend.  Another rover and it's compliment of a single mech were with them.  Friendly banter between the salvage crews went back and forth.  The two mechs stood side by side. What they said to each other, if anything, was silent to the crews.  The mechs and rovers parted ways, going to respective hangars.  Approaching the large scaffolding built around the shapes of the mechs, the machines stepped in and settled into place.  Engines grew quiet, joints creaked as they locked into place, and claws extended from the walls to hold the mechs.  The back of the goliath machine unfolded, layers of metal, ceramics, and plastics blooming like a flower to reveal the entry port for the mech.  Finally, it too slid open as the maintenance crews bustled about.  A pair of medical staff moved forward, hooking up tablets to waiting ports to take status. “You alive in there Jameson?” one of them asked with a friendly chuckle.  A dry, unused voice replied, “Much to the surface's chagrin Patterson.”  The large man chuckled, “Your stats look good.  You need help out? You've been swimming a while.”  Atrophy was a real issue with pilots. They had to keep fairly aggressive exercise regiments between sorties because of it. “I'm f-fine,” the young man groaned, peeling himself from his seat.  The port on the back of his neck hissed and released, small metal connectors slick with antiseptic gel sliding from his neck and into the cable before it rolled up and into the wall.  He slowly turned over before crawling free of the cockpit and smelling fresh air again. He drank it in as his eyes adjusted.  “Paint another marker on my belly, will you? Python class,” he motioned to a few rows of painted on silhouettes of various drones.  One of the staff whistled and bumped fists with his friend.  Jameson let himself enjoy the small accolade as he stood... and collapsed forwards.
	He had overestimated his legs and was about to get a lesson from the metal floor when a pair of arms caught him. “Lieutenant, when the medical staff offer you a hand, you should probably take it,” Caroline's teasing voice was in his ear and Jameson blushed for multiple reasons.  His handler's crimson lips smiled wide at him, looking the picture of the friendly professional. Oh the lies those lips could tell.  “Or do you like making out with the floor?” she added, easing the wobbly-legged young man to a bench to rest.  “Thanks Caroline,” he managed through a shaking voice, “I just... just need a minute is all.”  The tall, statuesque woman nodded and motioned for the onlookers to get back to work.  Caroline herself walked the line between military and civilian, but the crew knew better than to disobey her.
	“Another mark on the board then?” she asked, raising an eyebrow.  Jameson pulled his helmet off, setting it next to him as he drank more of that wonderful, clean air.  He nodded, “No biggie.”  The woman's slight scowl demanded more than that as she reached out to drag a thumb down his cheek and force his eye open, “You get rattled?  Anything loose?”  Jameson held still as she checked his pupils. Her old nurse training had her doing this stuff on reflex. “Not even a hit,” he promised, “I'm fine.”  The woman's scowl slowly gave way as she took his pulse, cupping his chin in the process, “Good Boy. Can't lose my meal ticket.”  It was a carefully measured statement, meant to mimic the banter of the soldiers around them.  Couldn't make things too obvious, could they?
	“Fuck you Jameson!” called a voice from down the line.  A young woman with a shock of purple hair shouted at him as she was helped to walk by her own medical staff.  Pilots were allowed a wider range of accepted hair styles than the average trooper and Kate tended to abuse that rule. “Fuck what?” Jameson shrugged, knowing exactly why she was mad and enjoying the fact. “Fuck your what! You get lucky and add a point just 'cause your rover got targeted. I coulda gotten three times that if we'd just had something to shoot.”  The young man smirked at her, knowing that he was now one point up on her in the standings.  “Language young lady,” Caroline rolled her eyes.  “What about it?” she snapped back before grinning at Jameson, “I've still got you dead to rights in the running. You'll see.”  The young man just smiled, “Not what the sims say...” The girl's cheeks went scarlet, “Fuck sims! They don't mean shit compared to a real fight.”  Jameson only shared a laugh, his rival joining him.  Caroline gave them both an annoyed look.  “Get a shower and meet me at the gym,” Kate offered, “Get in the ring and we'll find out who ends up on top.”  Jameson felt his own cheeks tinge, but Caroline snapped, “No time in the schedule. He's due for leave... Sargent.”  Oh, mentioning her rank. Low blow.  Kate gave her a glare, but her own handler had her walking away before she replied.  Jameson gave the taller woman a raised eyebrow. “What?” Caroline grumbled. He only smirked and said, “Help me to the shower, will you?”  The smirk was apparently a mistake, as his handler helped him walk and replied, “No can do. You're going to the car.”  Jameson gave a small whimper. He really needed a change.
***

	The car skimmed over the city, dodging in and out of traffic as the automated pilot took them home.  Above them, the roof of the dome dimmed, projections of stars starting to slowly appear.  Martians had moved underground, but they had taken the sky with them.  The massive, glowing city spanned out around them, welcoming the young man back.  The place teamed with life, with most buildings having large gardens on their roofs and often cascades of vines running down their sides.  People of all shapes and sizes bustled around the ground as cars flew overhead.  Jameson gave a small smile at the sight.  Mars wasn't dead, even if the surface was abandoned. Mars lived.  He looked at the edges of the city where construction sites were hollowing out more of the crust, expanding the city.  Mars thrived.
	Looking away from the window, still in his suit, the young man fidgeted.  His padding was swollen and in bad need of a change.  He nervously bit his lip as he tried to hold on.  “Stop fidgeting,” Caroline warned him, not looking up from her tablet, “Just use it. It's what it's there for.”  Jameson frowned and set his jaw, “I can make it.”  The woman raised an eyebrow, “Really? Doesn't look like you have so far.”  The young man felt his face heat up, “That was in the cockpit. It doesn't count...”  The corner of her mouth tugged back, “Whatever you need to tell yourself little guy.”  Jameson felt that smirk.  He tried to be strong in the face of her teasing, but both of them knew him better than that.  A few minutes later, he gave a small sigh and relaxed, feeling his WMU warm up.  Caroline giggled, putting a hand to her mouth to let him know he'd been caught, “You make the cutest face when you wet yourself, do you know that?”  Jameson looked at his lap, cheeks a bright pink.  He did know that. She told him that all the time.  “You close your eyes and give a little sigh and look so very happy to be using your padding,” Caroline sang softly, reaching to playfully pluck at his hair, daring him to argue. “You're being a bit mean,” he huffed, feeling himself fall into a pout.  “Aww, I thought you liked it when I'm mean,” she noted with a dry tone, “You seemed to like getting cursed at.”
	Jameson blinked, his eyes darting to Caroline's face, “Carol... are you... jealous?”  The woman tensed like a startled cat, “Nonsense! I'm not nervous about some little brat!”  The young man stared in disbelief, “Is this why you keep getting mad at Katie? Caroline-” The woman slapped her tablet down on her lap, “I am not mean to her! I just don't think she should be running around flirting with you like-” Jameson felt a small smile growing on his face, “Carol, she's just joking around.”  His handler gave him a flat look, “You know nothing about women James.  And when your girlfriend is upset, you're supposed to agree with her and do what she says.”  The woman's cheeks were starting to resemble her crimson hair.  Jameson considered his options as she looked away and out the window.  Slowly, he leaned against her, resting his head on her shoulder. “Kate can do what she wants,” he quietly said, his hand finding hers, “You know I only want you, right?”  Caroline tensed slightly, but then relaxed.  “Damned right you do,” she grumbled, letting go of his hand to reach between his legs and give his soggy undies a squeeze, “You know who you belong to.”  Jameson gave a small gasp and snuggled closer.
	The car pulled in and parked at the private dock.  A short walk later, almost a waddle on Jameson's part, and the pair made it to Caroline's apartment.  Jameson had his own, but he spent more time here by now.  The pair knew that there was a certain risk with Handler's dating their charges, but they also knew how little command cared so long as the Pilots functioned.
	“I'm going to grab a shower,” the young man called, heading for the bathroom, knowing he wouldn't make it that far.  “Ah ah, no sir,” Caroline called, her voice shifting already as she smiled and curled a finger at him, “You come here right now. We need to give you a check.”  The boy stiffened and froze midstep.  “Jamie,” Caroline warned him, already using his 'proper' name, “You better think twice about going to the potty without permission...” 'Jamie' did just that and huffed before turning and going back to Caroline.  “Good boy,” she said, “Turn around.”  He did so and she reached up, undoing the clasps and zippers of his suit. Jameson wasn't allowed to undress himself when at home.  Not without permission...
	“Whew, you certainly need a bath,” Caroline chuckled as she peeled the suit from his form, “House? Run a bath. Hot.”  There was a chime of confirmation from the home's AI before she added, “Oh, add bubbles.  Jamie loves bubbles, don't you sweetie?”  A shiver went up the boy's spine.  He'd been needing this.  He nodded, “Yes.”  Caroline ran a finger down his back, making the boy jump, “Yes what?”  The boy swallowed, “Yes Ma'am.”  Caroline smirked, “Close. We'll work on it.”
	His suit was pulled down to his ankles, leaving him in nothing but his WMU.  It sagged around his waist.  Jamie felt her eyes on him, felt her enjoying the sight. She enjoyed this as much as he did.  Hell, she'd been the one to enjoy it first.
	“Oh dear,” Caroline cooed, “Oh dear, oh dear. My little boy went and peed his pilot suit again, didn't he?  Jamie, we've talked about this.  You simply must try to find a potty when you have to go.”  The soggy young man in question bit his lip and replied, “They don't have a lot of them on the surface.”  Her warm form hugged him from behind, holding him to her, “Watch that back talk mister.  You and I both know those rovers have potties. All you have to do is call up that sweet captain lady and let her know you've got to use the potty or you'll have an accident in your padding. Is that so hard?”  It was impossible, for multiple reasons, but they both knew that.
	“I'm sorry,” he whimpered softly, acting the part of an embarrassed child.  “It's okay sweetheart,” Caroline cooed softly, “My little guy just can't handle the potty yet, can he?”  She reached down and squeezed the soggy front of his padding, “Can he?...”  Jamie took a deep breath and replied, “N-no Mommy. I can't.”  Caroline gave her own shiver when he said the 'M' word.  Sighing happily, she lightly played with his soaked garment, “No, no you can't. You're lucky to have someone like me to look after you, huh?” Jamie nodded, eyes on the floor.  He felt her warm breath tickle his ear as she quietly added, “And Mommy is lucky to have such a helpless little cutie.”  She kissed his cheek and patted his bottom, “Come on, the bath is running.”
	How long had it been? How long since both had admitted to their feelings? Jameson had no family. He'd been found via candidate testing in an orphanage and moved into military housing while undergoing the treatment.  Like every pilot, he was assigned a Handler to help manage their personal affairs while training or serving in the military.  Caroline had been a nurse for a time before looking for other work and finding herself assigned to a young fifteen year old who had run off his last handler when they had tried to talk him out of beginning his combat missions early.  Eighteen was tradition, sixteen the official limit... but Jameson wanted to kill drones right then.  Caroline had proven the only handler with the patience for the angry young man, managing to get him to wait a full year.  The two had grown close, but it wasn't until he was eighteen that they grew closer than regulations approved of, even if both struggled to admit their feelings.
	“Stand still,” Caroline warned him, standing her boy in front of the tub.  Steam billowed up from the water as it neared the limit.  Jamie held still as she grabbed his arms and forced him to lift them up while she saw to his WMU. “Tsk tsk,” she clicked her tongue, reaching out to tear the sides of the padded briefs, “They really should let me send you out in a proper diaper. You're lucky you didn't leak.”  The young man tried not to react too much. She was bluffing... probably.  The soggy WMU plopped to the floor under its own, wet weight.  Caroline rolled it up before tossing it in the trash.  Jamie's skin was finally able to breath in the open air again and Caroline grabbed a pack of wipes, “You're bottom is red. I told you to use lotion and powder before putting one of these on.”  Jamie didn't meet her eye, “I meant to, I just... forgot.”  The cool wipe had him jump and she smiled at the reaction, “You'll get a rash if you keep it up. Do you want a diaper rash honey?”  Jamie shook his head as she wiped him down and cleaned him up.  “I didn't think so,” she noted, tossing the wipes and standing up to tower over him.  Gently taking his chin in her hand, she had him look her in the eye, “Before your next mission, you're going to bring me your WMU and Mommy is going to put you in it herself. You clearly can't be trusted to do it right.”  The boy shivered and nodded.  Caroline grinned and kissed his forehead, “It's okay baby, little brats can't be expected to change themselves after all.”
	It was Jameson that fell for Caroline first. Given her beauty and constant place at his side, it made sense for the young man to have a crush on her.  He was eighteen when he'd first made a fumbling move to kiss her one night.  Caroline had gently turned him down.  For over a year, Jameson had pined to no relief, not knowing that he had planted a seed of affection in Caroline's heart.  Then one drunken night after a close call on the surface, the two had ended up in one another's arms, lips locked.  But even then, Caroline had been slow to progress the physical parts of their relationship.  Jameson had worried that he was pushing too hard, that he had more desires in the bedroom than she might.  Ironically, it had proven the opposite...
	“Alright, up we go!” the woman sang softly, putting her hands under his arms and lifting.  Caroline was impressively strong, having learned to handle patients as a nurse.  Combined with Mars' lesser gravity, she could easily carry Jamie about the apartment, something she made sure to do quite often when in the mood.  The boy found himself lifted and held over the water before being slowly, delicately dipped into the steaming bath. Jamie's toes touched the hot water and recoiled.  “It's alright honey, I know the right temperature,” she promised, easing him into the tub.  Jamie felt the bath engulf his lower half. It was nearly scalding, but still safe to the touch: just how he liked it.  Sensory stimulation was something Jameson preferred to dive into after too long in a mech.  After long enough feeling next to nothing, the pilot enjoyed feeling everything he could.  “That's my good boy,” Caroline cooed as islands of bubbles drifted over the top of the water, “Lets get you cleaned.”
	Stripping out of her suit coat and rolling up the sleeves of her blouse, Caroline reached for a bottle of baby wash, the label bragging about its lack of tears.  Dipping a wash cloth in the water, she squirted a small amount onto the cloth before sudsing it up.  “Arm up,” she ordered, grabbing his wrist and holding it out of the water.  Jamie let out a long breath as she began to scrub him down.  Some couples gave each other massages. Caroline gave her boy a bath.  Slowly, she rubbed him down, carefully scrubbing each inch of his skin with love.  Jamie felt her hands squeezing unused muscles, hunting for kinks and sore spots. “You've been spending too much time floating,” she scolded him, “I told you to move your body once an hour.”  Jamie mumbled to the bubbles, “Gotta stay alert. Can't see in the cockpit.”  Caroline's hand cupped his chin and forced them to share a look, “And you'll scramble your brain if you stay hooked up too long. Once. An. Hour. Or I'll have you yanked off rotation.”  It was a Handler's job to guard the health, physical and mental, of their charge. Caroline took it seriously.  “Scrambling isn't the word,” Jamie quietly argued, but he nodded all the same.  She was right.  It was just... easier sometimes to stay connected.
	“If you're going to argue, then you're little'er than I thought boy,” Caroline mused, laying him back and standing up, “Going to have to remind you who the Mommy is.”  Jamie watched with wide eyes as she stripped down, her curves being revealed as she dropped her pants. Red lace and garters.  She'd put those on just for him, hadn't she?  She knew what they did to him.  Her back was to him and he saw her long arms reach behind her to undo the clasp of her bra.  When it slid down her shoulders, the woman's heavy breasts relaxed and acknowledged gravity at last.  Bending over, thrusting her ass inches from his face as he lay in the tub, she undid her garters and wiggled her panties down to her ankles. Jamie had a front row seat to a brief glimpse of her trimmed sex before she rolled her stockings off and stood.  Her fiery red hair, long enough to reach her lovely ass, was pulled up and folded into a bun.
	“Lean forward,” she ordered, turning around in all her glory.  Caroline was over a decade his senior. Jamie never thought to care.  She was beautiful.  She would be to him until they were both in their second century and he didn't plan to change then either.  The young man scooted forward in the tub and she lifted a long, smooth leg before sliding it into the water behind him.  Jamie stared forward with a blush burning on his face as she slid into the water and settled down. “Now come here,” her arms wrapped around him, “Momma wants her snuggles.”  Jamie was pulled into her lap and felt her skin against his.  He trembled as she held him, resting her chin on his shoulder.  The pilot felt her heartbeat from her chest on his back.  He felt her breath on his ear.  He smelled her perfume.  The boy gave the smallest sniffle and leaned back into her.
	“It's okay baby,” she cooed in his ear, “I know. I know. I'm real honey.  You're back.”  Too much time feeling nothing. Too much time linked to the machine made everything feel like data.  Too much time waiting for an attack and wondering if it was his last mission had him disconnecting.  A month. Ten to fourteen hour trips to the surface. Come back. Exercise. Report. Eat something not from a plastic pack.  Sleep in a cot if he was lucky.  A month on. A month off.  It was Caroline that always brought him back, helped him feel again.  Jamie felt the tear role down his cheek followed by another.  Caroline saw them drip into the water.  “That's it baby, it's okay to cry for momma.  Little boys cry all the time.  Go right ahead.”  The pilot did so, softly trembling in her arms and letting his lover hold him until the water felt more wet, until the bubbles popped more loudly and until everything felt... real again.
	Caroline felt him finally relax and smiled, kissing his head, “That's my good boy, feel better?”  Jamie nodded. “Good. Hold your breath.”  She wiped the cloth over his face, removing the last tears, and went back to cleaning him.  The boy felt weightless in her arms, perfectly safe as she scrubbed him.  Her fingers ran through his hair, working shampoo into it.  Using a pitcher, she cascaded water over his head, the boy sputtering and spitting away water. “I told you to close your mouth,” she giggled.  Jamie stuck out his tongue, ready to argue, but then she was holding him close again.  The boy felt her breasts push against his skin, her peaks gently poking into his back.  The bath had her excited. Having him in her arms again had her excited.  Seeing her happy, playful boyfriend dig his way up from the slump of a long shift was the opening of a floodgate.
	Her hand slid down, washcloth in hand, and cupped her lover's manhood.  Jamie gasped in an adorably high pitch. “Shhh, momma's gotta keep her boy clean,” the woman breathed in his ear, “Be a good boy. Spread your legs.”  She kissed his neck as Jamie shivered and did as he was told.  He'd not been with her for a month.  They were both pent up.  Soon, Caroline felt his shaft rising under the gentle strokes. “Naughty boy,” she growled, “You're supposed to be taking a bath.”
	A year ago, when they finally started to date, the horny teen of the couple was quick to try and take things to the bedroom.  Caroline had just as quickly slowed him down.  A little hurt, Jameson had at first pouted, but he soon got over himself.  Much as he wanted to finally bed the love of his life, he had enough sense to want her to want it as much as he did.  Lacking as the Pilot program was in sex ed, he knew enough to respect consent and gave her time.  In reality, it was not his libido that had Caroline hesitant. It was hers.  She knew her tastes were... odd to some and feared they wouldn't gel with the traditional machismo of the military, a swagger Jameson had emulated at the time... because he thought that was what women wanted.  Naturally, the two had danced around actually talking about their feelings for some time until one extended mission left Jameson panting and unable to walk, laying in front of his girlfriend and in need of help to get out of his suit... and padding.
	“I am taking a bath,” he panted lightly, a bemused smile on his face as she worked his cock, “You're supposed to be cleaning me.”  Caroline gave a mock gasp, “Jamie! How dare you accuse your innocent-”  She squeezed his cock just the right amount to make him jump, “-loving-” Her hand cupped his balls and lovingly rolled them on her palm, “Mommy of trying to seduce her 'little' boy.”  Jamie snorted through his nose, giving a small pout, “Not /that/ little.”  Caroline giggled in his ear, continuing to play with him, “Not where it counts. No need to pout brat.”  The two continued their back and forth, Jamie playing victim and Caroline the tormentor.  They both adored the game.  Jamie was in heaven, surrounded by hot water, fluffy bubbles, and the arms of his lover as she slowly jerked him off.  Caroline knew ever inch of his body. She'd mapped each of them herself.
	“You feeling nice?” her breath tickled his cheek. “Yes Momma,” Jamie sighed. “You happy to be home?”  she asked. “Yes Momma,” he groaned as she pumped his cock faster. “You about to cum for me baby?” her words burned at his ear.  Jamie's hips thrust on their own, sliding his cock into her tight grip again and again. “Y-yes Mommy,” he stammered, leaning back into her. “Well, we can't have that, can we?” she giggled, letting go.  Jamie's eyes snapped open and he turned to whine, “Carol- mph!”  The handler caught his lips with hers, pulling him tight and holding him in place as she claimed him.  Her tongue slipped between his lips and Jamie forgot what he was mad about.  Caroline adored cheesy novels where the roguish hero claimed his princess with a daring, savage kiss, but she never imagined herself as the princess.  Jamie trembled in her arms and turned over to lay atop her as she kissed every complaint away until he was a whimpering mess, resting on her chest. “Big brave soldier boy,” she chuckled as he lay his head on her chest, “Laid low by a kiss.”  Jamie panted into her chest, his cock only now starting to ease from its rock hard state, “It was a really good kiss.”  Caroline growled, her voice rumbling from her chest and into his cheek, “Damn right it was.  But someone still doesn't listen when Mommy tells him to use powder on his padding, so no easy fun for you.”  She looked to the mirror, “House? Extra water. Ice cold.”  Jamie's eyes went wide at the order before a jet of the coldest water he had ever known sprayed right onto the boy's ass.  The young man squawked a number of creative curses as his lover burst into laughter, the pair scrambling to escape the wave of cold.
	The pair caught their breath as they stood in the bathroom, one from panic and the other from laughter. “House, c-cut the water,” Caroline giggled, “Hot towels please.”  A small drawer opened in the wall, billowing hot air as it dispensed a set of hot towels. “That was low,” Jamie grumbled, dripping and pouting. “Fun though,” the woman noted, taking a towel and giving herself a brief rubdown before pulling on a large, fluffy robe. She saw the disappointment in his eyes as she covered her body and fought back a smirk. She still had it.  “And as for misbehaving, I thought we had talked about your language.”  Jamie clamped his mouth shut as she took a towel and motioned him to lift his arms.  Caroline dried her little one, chasing away the chills as she softly scolded him, “I don't care what language your friends use. You're not going to talk like a sailor and I heard a few choice words in the tub.”
	That long ago night, as Jameson lay in sick bay with only Caroline looking after him, he had been red in the face when she started to undress him.  All his usual bravado melted away as she began to take care of him, but Caroline's courage seemed to find her for once.  He'd tried to tell her he could handle it, but the exhaustion and extended time in interface made it clear he couldn't.  She'd told him to shut up. They were dating now. They'd see each other like this eventually and she was in charge for the night.  The words had... unexpected effects on her charge.  With Jameson helpless and naked, she had removed his WMU and begun to clean him.  He'd panted, and not just from exhaustion. Her hands wandered, and not just from cleaning.  A number of awkward looks and one awkward erection had led to a long overdue conversation when they were done, the two breaking down a few walls when they were finally at her place.
	“Now, do you use potty words young man?” she asked, pointing an accusatory finger at his nose.  He stared nearly cross-eyed at the finger. “No ma'am,” he replied softly. “No more than you use the potty, right?” she smirked. Jamie felt embarrassment rise hot in his chest, “I... suppose not Ma'am?”  The woman grinned, one of her usual little traps coming to fruition, “Good. Glad to see you and I agree on you going into a diaper tonight.”  Jamie blinked and sputtered, “What?!”  Caroline shrugged, smug as ever, “If you use the potty as much as potty words, well I can only assume that means you don't use them at all?”  Jamie processed the words before stammering, “Wait, no! I thought you were just teasing me-”  Caroline opened a drawer, humming softly, “And I thought you knew the rules, but that little outburst in the tub tells me otherwise.  So, since you need a reminder...”  From the drawer came a small set of plastic pieces, soft pink and meant to slide together, “Someone here gets to wait an extra night for his fun.  Come with Mommy.”  The elite soldier was wrapped in a towel, taken by the wrist, and led like a child to their bedroom.  A padded table just the boy's size waited next to the bed.  With the cities of Mars now largely underground, trade was a tad more difficult. Thankfully, most of what she needed to look after her Jamie was easily printable, including his changing table.  And with items printed to order, she could tailor them to her favorite little boyfriend's needs.
	“Up we go,” she sang happily, patting the cushion.  Her little one looked at the table and gnawed his lip, eyeing the device in her hand, “Could we, um, maybe skip my punishment tonight? It was just an accident after all...”  Caroline examined his face.  Her boy knew all the safety words. This wasn't hesitance. This was her Jamie being a fussy little guy.  Her charge could be that way sometimes, the boy feeling extra needy after a long shift. Naturally, it was her responsibility as his caretaker to make sure he got all the attention he needed.
	“Oh baby,” she cooed, stepping forward and wrapping her arms around him, pulling Jamie's face to her wool-covered chest, “Poor little guy.”  She rubbed his back slowly, giving him the impression she just might be forgiving.  But then she calmly explained, as if to a child, “Accidents are what you make in your pants when Mommy isn't around.  What you did was break the rules and I'd be a terrible caretaker to let you learn bad habits.  Now hop on up.”
	The boy felt her words sooth him and then scold him in a way that had him hiding his face in her chest.  He piloted machines that had shattered starships and she could still do this to him.  He'd never expected to love it so much.  Jamie turned towards the table and swallowed.  Lifting a leg, he set it on the stool he used to climb before trying to pull himself up. That turned out to be a mistake.  His head swam as the effects of the hot bath and the long stint in his mech reminded him that his body was still fragile.  For a stomach turning moment, he began to tumble backwards.  But then Caroline was behind him, catching him with ease and pulling him into a cradling position in her arms. “I'm sorry Darling,” Caroline gave him an apologetic smile, “I keep forgetting how tired you must be.  Are you okay to continue?”  Jamie lay in her arms, blushing up at her, and gave a slow nod.  Despite himself, he very much wanted to continue.
	“Then let Momma take care of everything,” she cooed, gently lifting him onto the table and laying him down.  With one hand on his forehead, playing with his hair, she used her free one to reach over and tug the strap from behind the changing table.  “My poor Jamie has been without his Mommy for a month,” she lamented, “Without the diapers he so desperately needs.”  That was only half true. She visited him almost every time he was below the surface, but that left little time for the pair to be a couple.  However, her words weren't about being true. They were about covering his naked body with her favorite shade of red.  Every time he blushed, squeaked, hid his face, or simply whimpered at her teasing, Caroline savored her victory.  Embarrassing her little boy was one of her favorite things.  He was simply too cute not to torment.
	And turn red he did, the boy fidgeting on the table, “We don't really need the straps Carol-” He froze at her stern look. “M-mommy...”  Jamie played his own game, dancing to the line and seeing if he could lean just over it before earning himself a punishment.  As a Pilot, he got to get away with a lot.  His status as an Ace earned him a lot of accolades and meant he rarely bought his own drinks.  Caroline? She never put up with him being a brat.  It was fun to dance with her.  He had a chance of losing.  Hell, he was lucky when he won.  And going by the look she gave him, that line was closer than he thought tonight.
	“You just nearly fell baby,” Caroline explained again as if to a child, “I can't take risks of your rolling off.”  The padded belt stretched over his belly and clipped into place on the other side of the changing table.  She lovingly patted his stomach as Jamie huffed, not having won that round either.  “Tsk, poor thing. You're so fussy. Is my little guy missing his best friend?”  Jamie's eyes lit up with barely concealed excitement.  “...BarBar?” he mumbled softly.  His Mommy smiled warmly, taking an old and threadbare stuffed bear from the bedside table, “I cleaned him myself while you were gone.  He was telling me all about how much he missed you.”
	The boy's hand darted out in a flash, snatching the bear from her hands and pulling it close, “I'm sorry BarBar! I just had to work.”  As Jamie hugged the bear close, Caroline fought the urge to take a picture. Jamie was getting farther and farther into that special mindset.  BarBar had a gift for pushing him over the edge.  As the young man snuggled his best friend, Caroline tightened the strap and made ready for the change.
	The ritual of it was half the joy.  For all the craziness of their lives, a diaper change was a simple, quiet bit of calm.  Jamie could let go and breath. Caroline could feel more in control.  Both could share a moment of intimacy.
	“Legs up cutie,” Caroline cooed, “Mommy has to check your bottom.”  Jamie nodded, petting BarBar and not looking up before he lifted his knees to his chest. Caroline went down to his bottom and gave it a check, reaching out to gently tug one of his cheeks aside.  Jamie grimaced lightly, but tried to pretend he didn't feel the soreness.  Caroline wasn't fooled, “I see the redness was worse than I thought.  Young man, can I not expect you to look after your own heinie when you go out on a mission?”  She reached for a tube of gel and squeezed some onto her fingers, “I'm going to have to use the butt cream.  Should I let that other Pilot girl know you need help?”  Jamie felt his face burn as she embarrassed him, both of them knowing how much he enjoyed it. He hid his face behind BarBar as she scolded him, “Maybe I should pin a note to your suit for the commanding officer to read? 'My Baby Boy can't handle his own nappies, please look after him?'”  Jamie shivered at the idea and whimpered, “No mommy...”  He bit his lip as she began to apply the cream, the relief evident on his face as it did its job.
	Caroline sighed, making sure the medicinal gel was fully rubbed in, “I'd spank you, but it looks like your butt is red enough.”  She finished with the cream and closed the cap, reaching for a bottle of regular baby lotion, “Don't think this is the end of it. We're going to have a new rule. Before every mission, I'm the one changing you into your diaper.”  Jamie froze, looking from behind his stuffie, “Wait, you were serious-”  Caroline shot him a stern look that cowed the young man, “Do I joke about looking after my little one?”  She looked him in the eye and Jamie looked away first. “That's right,” she snorted, “I'm going to be changing you into your nappy before missions. Powder and lotion and all.  My little boy doesn't deserve to worry about diaper rash when he's fighting the bad guys.”  Jamie's chest grew warm as she continued to talk about him as if her were a child.  He really was home.  Still, the brat in him quietly replied, “They're not diapers, they're WMU's...”
	That was a mistake.  His mommy slowly looked at him, a foreboding smirk on her face, “Who said you'd be going out in one of those awful things?  They're not nearly enough to keep my little boy safe.”  Jamie felt the color drain from his face.  Technically he wasn't inspected before he went out, but the suit left little to the imagination and... most of his diapers were thicker than standard issue.  He opened his mouth, but Caroline was faster, putting a single finger on his chest and pushing him back onto the mat, “If you are a good boy, I'll use the thin ones I put you in when we go out.  Argue a single word...”  She leaned down, grinning fiercely, “And they'll be thick. Crinkly. And pink.”  Jamie shivered, closing his mouth and doing his best to behave himself.
	“Ah, there we go,” Caroline purred, “If threatening you with sissy diapers was all it took to make my brat obey, I would have done so some time ago.”  The woman chuckled and warmed a healthy amount of lotion between her hands, “Relax baby boy, Mommy is here now.”  She started with his ankles, digging her fingers in and searching for tense muscles.  Slowly, inch by inch, she worked her way up his legs, massaging her boy and enjoying every chance to touch her fingers to his skin.  Jamie sighed, leaning his head back and hugging his stuffie as he tried to enjoy the moment.  Soon, her hands were sliding over his waist, moving between his legs.  He gasped as Caroline slowly began to rub his manhood.  He was still sensitive from the bath and the woman giggled as he whimpered from her touch.  She spread a healthy amount of lotion over his manhood before she reached off to the side.  Jamie felt something cool slip around the head of his shaft and he softly whined, “Mommy, nooo...”  Caroline rolled her eyes and reached into a drawer on the table, “Such a fussy baby I have tonight.  Mommy knows what he needs.”  The large pacifier was brought to his lip, “Open up honey.”  Jamie clamped his mouth shut, giving her a pleading look. “You'll feel better with a binki,” the woman explained as if to a child, “Trust Momma.”  Jamie huffed through his nose, but knew better than to argue. Instead, he slowly opened his mouth and was rewarded with a wide, rubber nipple sliding between his lips.  On instinct, he closed his mouth and began to suckle.  To his surprise, he tasted something sweet.
	“Cherry,” Caroline explained, “The new model allows flavor packs in the mouth guard.”  She lovingly stroked his cheek as Jamie began to suckle more eagerly, cheeks going back to pink. “Told you Mommy loves you,” she cooed before going back to work.  Jamie lifted his head, eyes still concerned as she gently worked his cock and balls through the plastic ring. Caroline gave him a knowing look and gently gripped his manhood, “Cutie? Does this belong to you?”  Jamie trembled at the words and slowly shook his head. He knew them well.  “No, no it doesn't,” Caroline explained with a loving tone, “It belongs to me, doesn't it?”  The boy nodded, biting down on his paci.  Caroline smirked again, “And what I do with my property isn't something you need to worry about.”  She used a single finger to push his head back to the mat before she slid the head of the chastity cage onto her little guy's cock.  Bringing a small key to the device, they both heard the click that made it clear it wasn't coming off that night.
	Reaching for the powder, Caroline began to sprinkle it over Jamie's waist, “Look baby, it's snowing!” She gave a small laugh to dragged a finger through the powder, reaching up to prod Jamie's nose and leave the tip white.  The young man tried not to react, doing his best to pout over being caged, but he couldn't help himself. Caroline's fussy little guy finally gave a giggle as she tickled his nose. “There's my little cutie,” Caroline sang, grabbing a folded diaper from beneath the table.  It was a plain white with decorations all over in the form of dancing cartoon dinosaurs. 'Piddle Pilot' read the colorful words on the front of the custom nappy, much to Jamie's pleasant embarrassment. Unfolding it, Caroline sprinkled extra powder on the inside before sliding it under his bottom.  Jamie felt the warm, soft nappy welcome him back as she pulled it between his legs and slowly taped him in.
	“All done,” the woman sang softly, undoing the strap over the boy's tummy, “Upsie Dasie.”  Jamie was helped to his feet and led to the bed.  A gentle hand on his back had him bend over and push his padded tush out.  “Just gonna be sure it's a good fit,” Caroline explained, running a finger along the leg holes and waistband as Jamie kept his hands on the bed like a good boy.  “Yup, that should hold,” Caroline cooed, sliding her hand over his bottom to give it a loving squeeze, “A nice safe diadee for my little bedwetter.”  Jamie's cheeks burned as she leaned over him, casually groping her lover, “After all, we both know you can't be trusted in big boy underwear. Not with your track record.”  Her hot breath tickled his neck as she dripped honey into his ear, “You belong in diapers Jamie.  That's simply how it is.  The potty is just. Too. Hard.”  She patted his bottom with each word.  Jamie swallowed, his cage twitching lightly, and nodded, “Yes Mommy...”  The woman grinned, her voice smokey and soft, “Good.  I think you may just not be ready for potty training at all for, oh, a month...”  Jamie shivered.  His entire leave? In diapers?  He really might be a bedwetter by the time she was done.  And he still nodded, just as excited as she was.
	“Good boy!” she sang, her voice loud and happy again, “Come on, let's give you your bedtime numnums.”  Caroline didn't go to the kitchen, however. Instead, she crawled up onto the bed and under the covers, her dressing gown falling open to show off one of her full breasts.  Curling a finger playfully, she beckoned him to join her.  Jamie didn't have to be told twice.  Grabbing BarBar, he crawled up the bed on all fours before burrowing under the sheets.  His diaper crinkled loudly as he snuggled up to his caretaker, the woman sliding an arm around his shoulder, “You drank all your water in the cockpit?”  Jamie nodded and rested his head on her shoulder.  “And your juice?” Caroline pressed.  “Yes Mommy,” came the reply.  “Good boy,” she softly murmured, starting to slowly stroke his head.  The juice had a number of vitamins and nutrients in it that tended to show up in foods her fussy boy didn't like to finish.  It also had some rather strong diuretics. If JamJam didn't want to eat his veggies like a good boy, he would have to face the consequences.
	“Alright then, I suppose you've earned this,” Caroline purred, tugging her dressing gown open a little bit more to reveal a rosy nipple.  “Home?” she called out, “Night Night.”  The lights lowered as the large windows framing the bed turned from opaque to clear.  Low light from the 'night sky' poured into the room.  Pale silver from the recreations of two moons fell over the large bed. Caroline's nipple glistened slightly in the light.  She'd been waiting all day for this.  Jamie too, if he was being honest.  In her nursing career, Caroline had briefly been a midwife including the occasional tenure as a nurse in a much more classical sense.
	Jamie moved into her arms, letting her lay his head across her lap.  She curled her arm under his neck, being sure to support his head as she beamed down at him.  “Ready?” she asked.  Jamie blushed, visible even in the low light, and nodded.  “Hungry?” she asked. She got the same response. “You'd better be,” she chuckled, “You don't know what I go through to keep you fed.”  The young man couldn't hide his own laughter, their act wavering as they shared a brief moment of humor.  Caroline curled her arms, lifting her little guy's head to her chest.  Jamie's lips parted and gently latched on.  His tongue ran over her sensitive nipple, coaxing the first few drops of milk.  Caroline sighed.  He was so gentle with her.  Soon, she gave a small gasp as he began to slowly suckle.  Relief and heat began to spread through her as Jamie got his first taste of something not from an MRE in weeks.  Caroline felt his arms slide around her waist, hugging her tight.  “Shhh,” she whispered, stroking his hair, “It's okay. Mommy's here.  Mommy's here...”  Sweet milk filled Jamie's mouth and he swallowed it greedily, letting the warm cream fill his tummy.  “Such a greedy boy,” she cooed, “Slow down. Mommy's got plenty.”
	His ear was pressed to her chest.  He could hear her heart beating.  It was a good noise.  Caroline felt his breath tickle her chest as he breathed out through his nose. It was a good feeling.  The two held each other, reminding themselves the other was with them.  They didn't speak for a time, both listening to the traffic outside, the hum of the city, and the quiet nursing of her diapered little lover.  After a time, she switched him to the other breast, Jamie not quite full yet.  Caroline stroked his head before sliding a hand down to rest on his diapered bottom.  Softly, she began to sing...

						        ***
	Caroline stirred as 'morning' light made sleeping difficult.  “Home, close the windows.”  The panes went opaque at the command of the young man.  Caroline groaned and slowly sat up, her vision clearing to show Jameson walking in with a pair of trays piled high with bacon, fruit, and pancakes.  Enough for both of them.
	The woman gave him a bleary smile as he waddled over, “Look at you.  Who told you diaper-boys were allowed in the kitchen?”  The young man smiled and handed her her meal before snuggling up to her with his own, “I think it was you the third time I tried to wake you.  I read between the snores.” The woman gasped in mock offense, “Young man, I do NOT snore.”  Jameson raised an eyebrow, “House, play back the recording I made this morning.”  Caroline was quick to snap, “House don't you dare!”  The apartment sided with her.
	The pair ate, Jameson being polite enough to not bring up that he was better at making breakfast than she was.  Caroline accepted his manners with dignity.  They chatted lightly about current events, how their favorite teams were doing, and traded bits of flirting.  Near the end of the meal, her hand slid down beneath the covers to give the front of his diaper a squeeze. She didn't ask permission. Mommies didn't need it.
	A smirk crossed her face, “I see someone is still a little bedwetter.”  Jameson straightened his shoulders and did his best to look dignified.  Jamie, however, replied, “I wet when I was in the kitchen. It doesn't count.”  The woman gave a low chuckle, “Sure thing Piddle Pants.  Let me finish my pancakes and we'll get you in a dry one.”  Jamie blushed her favorite way and smiled, leaning against her shoulder, “Yes Mommy.”  She took her time, occasionally goosing his diaper again just for fun.  Eventually, Jamie asked, “Did you mean it? A month? Or were you just in the moment?”  Caroline chewed, trying to decide which was true.
	“Why?” she eventually asked, “Is that too much? You can always call 'Red Light'. I'll never be mad.”  Jamie shook his head, “No, I don't think it is. But is it too much for you?  That's a lot of work you know.”  The woman laughed, “No, getting you to eat your veggies even when you aren't in diapers. That's work. This is Play.”  The two cuddled closer in the silence.
	“It's a big step,” Jamie noted.
	“Yup,” Caroline replied.
	“I might just become a real bedwetter if we go that long,” the young man warned.
	“That's not on your list of con's, is it?” his lover purred back, “Because it isn't on mine.”
	Her little boy turned a darker shade of red, “We stop if it's too much? For either of us?”
	“Always.”
	“It doesn't get in the way of seeing our friends?”
	“Never.”
	Jamie sat and thought as Caroline waited, trying not to look like she had been waiting for this chance.  Finally, he said, “Well, I'm not opposed, but I really don't see how I get a vote...”
	Caroline knew the bait. She took it, “Of course you don't brat.  If I say you're in diapers for a month, that's the end of it.”  Jamie couldn't keep the little grin off his face.  Still, he was feeling a bit needy, “Say it then?”
	The woman snickered and set her tray aside, “Is that what you need brat? You need for an adult to tell you what a pantswetting little diaper-boy you are?”  The boy could not meet her eye, the words stinging so wonderfully.
	“Fine,” Caroline sighed in mock frustration, “My little diapered brat, the big bad soldier boy I've put over my knee so many times, is going back in diapers for a month. For his own good and to keep our laundry bill down.”  She leaned in to whisper in his ear, “That good enough cutie?”  Jamie could only nod.  “Good,” she kept going, “Now you have something to say to me if you want your diaper changed. Be a good boy and ask nicely.”
	Jamie did better than that.  Springing up, he hopped onto her lap, straddling his lover as he grinned down at her.  She felt how warm his nappy was.  He really needed a change.  The boy leaned in, his lips inches from hers as she waited for him to beg like a good boy.
	“I love you.”
	Not the words she had been expecting, but an exceptional replacement.  He pressed his lips to hers and the two spent a number of minutes forgetting entirely about his diaper change.  The two finally parted, both panting.  Caroline looked at his thin, athletic frame with an honest hunger. A growl lifted up from her chest and she threw her arms around the boy, scrambling out of bed, “Let's get you out of that diaper and into the shower.”
	She laid him on the table, ripping at the tapes, “And I'm joining you. The cage isn't. That's an order.”
	Jameson saluted and laughed, “Yes Mommy!”