Ah, sweet little Charlie. Poor baby Max. Mr. maxisscrewed seems to always be the fetish spotlight, poor thing. Mommy can make it better, huh? Maybe after this people will leave him alone (but I just had to pick on him this time...he's a little sweetheart)? I always thought that was a sweet name for a cute young man in littlespace. Perhaps shaving that stubble he wears well for an early bird, fresh off the press trans boy would take the risk of popping himself away? Who knows? I won't pick on you anymore, Charles, not for now. ;)

Thank you to snowy-gliss for letting me use the art she had done of Max as a thumbnail for this piece.

COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN!

COMMISSION INFORMATION

---

“Mommy, when we get home can we play,” the boy asked his mother, who was a sweet, worn lady that was soft in all the right places and had a heart of gold. It was evident that she was a bit afraid of what was to come, and she kept glancing nervously at the boy.

“Of course we can, Charlie,” she coddled, and the young boy smiled happily to her while he hugged his stuffed tiger close. She ruffled up his soft, ginger curls gently before giving his cheek a gentle caress. “Listen to me sweetheart, okay?”

“Okay,” he agreed, and she was nearly brought to tears.

“Mommy and Daddy had agreed with his coworker, and we agreed to let him test on you. It’s for your own good sweetie, he won’t hurt you—”

“Okay, Mommy,” he agreed, and he gave her a little grin.

———

The young mother had remembered this moment well even years later, now that she was dropping her son off at the door of the science lab. He still had the same forest green eyes from his father and soft, ginger curls from her, but they complimented each other on the boy’s sharp, handsome face.

“Are you ready?”

“No,” Charlie mumbled, and the lady, worn from the years of worrying about her son, tilted her head.

“Why, baby?” A crisp silence filled the air of the vehicle. “Nothing bad is going to happen. I promise this to you all the time.” The lady walked Charlie up to the office, and as a large hand snaked around his shoulder, he knew his fate was sealed.

———

“Mommy,” Charlie wailed, and the mother began to cry at the sight of her son. “Mommy, make it stop! Make my tummy stop growing!”

“Mommy will get you down,” she soothed, rubbing circles into his body. “Mommy’s going to get you home, baby boy, I promise—”

“Mommy!”

“Listen honey, Daddy has your paci with us, okay?” Her hushed voice seemed to soothe him a little and he whimpered, looking to the plastic nipple of the pacifier. The lady stood on her toes and held it to his lips, which he pursed gently. “It’s only your paci baby, you can take it.”

“Mommy, please take me home,” the miserable teen whined as he felt painful shoves to one side of his body.

“We’re getting you there honey,” the kind mother whispered. She had wrapped a soft blankie around her son’s blue head and herself as he was rolled down the road, nearly to their house. She walked alongside him and rubbed on his belly, making sure he remained squishy while he was rolled. “We’ve almost got you home my dearest.”

“Mommy, I just want my paci,” he whined, and she nodded to him gently, rubbing his hair that she had put back into a short, messy ponytail.

“I know baby boy, Mommy’s going to get you a paci when we get home.”

“I don’t want to wait, Mommy, I want it right now, my mouth hurts,” he whimpered, and she rubbed her thumb ever so softly over his bruised lips.

“Oh, my poor little sweetie pie.” He finally began to cry and she wrapped her arms around what she could of the blueberry. This was to help as his father, grandma, and grandpa helped squeeze him in through the door. He finally became stuck and he cried in a panic, wiggling his toes on the other side of the door.

“Mommy,” he cried, “Mommy, I’m stuck in the door, I need help getting through to you—”

“I know, sweetheart,” she whispered, soothing him the best she could. The mother rushed to the kitchen to grab a stick of butter and handed it to his father through the window.

“I can’t see you,” he complained, crying harder. “I want to see you!”

“It’s alright baby, Mommy’s always here, Charlie.” She rushed to her son once again and gently rubbed his head and dried his tears before the boy finally flinched from the cold feeling of the butter on his belly. “You might feel a little chilly sweetheart, it’s just Daddy rubbing some butter on your tummy to help get you through the door.”

The soothing, gentle rubs from his father and the soft rubbing from his mother made him finally calm down and stop crying, but rather to blink his sleepy, heavy eyelids. His sweet mother’s encouraging words became slurred together, and he woke up from a good nap in the middle of the living room floor as his mother finished up the last few stitches on a soft, fuzzy onesie to protect him from the harsh winter flurries outside. The fireplace crackled gently and she soothed him with a soft lullaby.

“Mama,” he babbled through a pacifier in his mouth, and he flapped his hands softly. “Mama—”

“Did baby have a good nap?” Charlie nodded gently and giggled from the shield of the pacifier when she kissed his blue nose softly. “When you’re ready, Mommy can make you a bottle of baby formula.”

“I’m not a baby though,” Charlie questioned, letting the pacifier fall from his mouth. She picked it up from his lanyard and placed it back into his lips, letting him latch onto it before she let go to place a soft hand over the surface of his tummy.

“You’re Mommy’s sweet baby though, you always will be. You went through a hard time with your belly sweetheart, just snuggle up with your plushies honey.” She kissed his cheek gently and listened to him blissfully suck his pacifier. “Who’s Mommy’s baby boy?”

“I’m Mommy’s baby boy,” he giggled from behind his pacifier, and she poked his nose ever so gently.