Don't Baby Me (Age-Regression)

Eight

Ayla

"Ayla? Can I come in please?" A distinctly masculine voice sounds on the other side of the bathroom door.

I'm sitting on the floor, naked from the waist down, trying to figure out how to clean my private parts with no wipes. I seriously can't believe I wet myself in my sleep. It's been years since that last happened; if you don't count the accident I had the other day.

Just the fact that I wet myself in my sleep is so embarrassing. I was so sure I was going to win the bet I made with Olive. She's going to make me wear pull-ups every time I go to sleep now.

The thought makes me cry harder, sobbing into my hands until I can't breathe. I don't even want to think about the strange men I woke up to. One was even holding me in his arms.

I won't lie and say that he wasn't comfortable. Being in his arms was soothing. That was until I recognized he was a total stranger and I don't even know his first name.

From the brief glimpse I got of him, he seemed quite attractive. He has shaggy brown hair that was cut short on the sides and long on the top. His cheekbones are sharp, making his blue eyes stand out.

I didn't get a good look at the three other men standing close by. I was too busy running into the bathroom to be embarrassed in private. They probably think I'm a freak that wets her pants.

"Ayla, angel? Can I please come in? I can help you. If you aren't comfortable with me, I can have Olive come and help you." The man at the door states softly, almost like he's talking to a wild animal.

"No, don't come in." I say through my cries.

"Baby girl, I'm concerned about you. I promise I'm not judging your accident. I'm going to help you clean up. That's if you'll let me. My husband's and I won't judge you. You have my word."

I'm not sure if I should trust him, but he doesn't talk to me in a condescending way. Even though he called me baby girl, it wasn't in the way one would talk to a child. All he wants to do is help. Maybe I should let him?

"How about I tell you my name? Will that help?"

"Yeah." I nod, wiping my eyes on the back of my hand.

"I'm Henry. My husbands are Otto, Ethan, and Lyle. They would love to meet you. They won't judge you either."

Processing his words, I stand, going over to the bathroom door. I crack it open, peeking through the small slit I made in the door. The man I woke up on is crouched down by the door.

He gives me a soft smile, holding out a pack of baby wipes. Behind him, I can see the men he calls his husbands. Multiple partner marriages are a thing of the norm now, so it isn't odd that he's married to multiple men.

"Can I come in, angel? Olive gave me a pair of clothes for you to change into."

Taking a deep breath for bravery, I open the door enough to let him in. Henry stands and smiles, entering the room and shutting the door behind him.

"Here you go, pretty girl. Do you need help with wiping yourself. Once again, no judgement from me."

I shake my head at his offer, pulling a couple wipes out of the pack. Wiping my girl parts down, I toss the used wipes in the trash can beside the toilet. My cheeks are flaming red with embarrassment and from my tears.