Sylvester Morgan had been naked in front of other men before. His ex-boyfriend, Dexter, had seen his unclothed form countless times. Some of the boys from his old high school had copped sight of him in the gym showers, too, but never before had he felt as vulnerable and exposed as he did beneath the intensity of Jackson's gaze.

It made it hard to meet his eyes.

In fact, as Sly stood in the emptying bathtub, watching as the miniature vortex of draining water forced the last of his body hair down the plughole, his feet became a point of prime fascination; everything around him gained the opportunity to become interesting when it came to avoiding the stare that shamelessly scaled his body.

His cheeks blazed, but there was no room for complaint. He had been warned many times that privacy would cease to exist over the course of the month. Corey, Jackson's P.A, hadn't been able to stress that enough in the short space of time that had existed between Sly signing the first non-disclosure form and squiggling his signature against the legally binding contract.

Yet, despite being forewarned that Jackson would bath, change and dress him, he still hadn't expected it to feel the way that it did. He had been under the illusion that it would be as simple as closing his eyes and reminding himself that he could buy as much cherry flavoured tootsie pops as he liked once he completed the month and cashed out. He was wrong. It was so much harder. Jackson's presence was a force that demanded one's attention; it couldn't be blocked out.

"I will do this once a week," he heard Jackson say, his tone just as even as it had been the day before when Sly had first arrived. It resonated, meeting the corners of the large, tiled bathroom, working well with the baby blue to create an illusion of warmth. "Not just because it's my personal preference, but you'll come to see that in other aspects, it proves to be more hygienic."

He spoke nicely, his tone lacking coldness or hostility, but there was a formal edge to it. He found himself wondering if it was simply because Jackson was just as scared as he was, and much, much better at hiding it, or if he spoke like that all the time.

"Yes, sir," Sly managed to say. With his throat feeling seconds away from closing up, he felt somewhat proud of himself for managing to get the clash of vowels and consonants out. A towel was handed to him, and he wasted no time wrapping it around his waist, hiding the worst of his nudity. Which seemed almost redundant, in a way, as he had already been pre-warned of what was to follow.

Yesterday he had been allowed time to settle in and come to grips with the situation. Personally, Sly thought that Jackson was just giving him the opportunity to change his mind before he took a running leap into being his 'baby'. Today, no such leniency had been granted. Jackson had woken him up at eight-thirty. They had eaten breakfast together and then the other male had jumped right into it.

"Not sir," Jackson murmured as he held out a hand to assist Sly in getting out of the tub. He was more than capable, but, knowing that it was what was expected of him, he placed his hand in the much larger one and allowed for the guidance and added safety. "Daddy. Except on your day off. On Saturdays, you can call me by my name, or Daddy. It's your choice."

Sunday to Friday, Sly was to be Jackson's round the clock baby. Saturdays, the contract had stated he was free to do as he pleased so long as he didn't leave the premises.

The bedroom, or nursery, rather, was no less daunting than it had been the first time he had seen it. Exiting the adjourned bathroom, it still managed to have him gulping in a breath, despite already having slept in there once. Perhaps it was because he knew what was coming, but with each step he took, his cheeks grew hotter, and his breathing became a little shakier.

"You're not allergic to any skin products, are you?" Jackson checked as they came to a stop in front of the monstrosity of a changing table. Up close, it seemed even more surreal. Thick padding coated the rectangular surface, and foam safeguards sprouting to cage the body in once lay down.

He wasn't surprised when Jackson lifted him onto it, but he did so with such ease that Sly was left marvelling at his strength. Or maybe he was just lighter than he realized. Even when he had worked, rent had taken such a big chunk out of his wages that there were some nights that his dinner became whatever he could find in the cupboards. When he had lost his job, an incident that he was still annoyed and humiliated by, things had gotten worse.

"No," Sly replied, drawing in a sharp breath when the towel was pulled away and he found himself being patted dry.

"No, Daddy," Jackson corrected. "I know it may be a hard adjustment, but please try for me."

"Okay," Sly said, before hastily adding, "Daddy."

Smiling warmly, Jackson's eyes burned with approval. "Good boy, Sylvester. I'm already very pleased by how well behaved your being, and how maturely you're accepting this all. I know this can't be easy."

It wasn't. It was perhaps one of the hardest things he had ever been forced to do. There were so many questions building in his head that he thought it would explode, but, for reasons he couldn't even understand, Jackson's praise and acknowledgement of the struggle made him feel a lot better.

"I know I gave you a rundown of the things I will come to expect of you yesterday," Jackson said as he very gently placed a hand on his shoulder, weaning him back until his bare flesh hit the odd material of the changing pad. He wasn't sure why that induced a wave of panic, but it took a few steady breaths for Sly to convince himself that he was fine instead of fighting against the man. "But I will go over them again, as I'm sure it was all a little much for you to have taken in yesterday."

"Thank you," Sly whispered. He had been worrying that rules were going to be forgotten, and he would be punished for it, or sent home without being paid. He wasn't sure which idea struck him as being worse.

"Of course." Jackson ducked down to mess with one of the draws that were built into the station, coming back with a diaper in one hand, and lotion in the other. Knowing that he had agreed to it didn't stop the way his heart constricted, momentarily forgetting how to beat. "When changing you, I expect little to no fussing, do you understand? I also expect you to inform me if and when you need changing."

Changing. The thought of wearing them was degrading enough, but then to actually use them? Yikes!