Page 2 of Stars Like Confetti

Theo’s lip curled into a smile that made my heart skip a beat. “Of course. You can leave your bag here if you like.”

I let out a sigh of relief, and dropped my bag where Theo indicated behind the desk. They led me to the back of the building, past the store and down the hidden hallway where they opened the door to a gender-neutral bathroom, complete with a changing table. “Do you need any help?” they asked.

Oh, they were a caregiver, and they’d gone and clocked me for the Little that I was. I didn’t think this could get any more humiliating. I shook my head and did my best not to dart into the empty space and slam the door in Theo’s face. “I’ve got it. Thank you.”

“I’ll be right out here if you need me.”

They shut the door behind me, and I threw the lock into place. Shaky hands already fumbled the button on my jeans, legs squeezed tight against the pressure it put on my extremely full bladder. I danced in front of the toilet, all but bursting now that it was in sight. Tears sprang to my eyes.

My jeans flew open. It was all I could do to turn around and shove my pants and underwear to the floor…

And I burst. I let out a sigh of relief when I could finally let go. Elbows resting on my thighs, I rested my face in my hands, trying to catch my breath. My bladder emptied with the force of a firehose and if I hadn’t been so relieved, I would have been embarrassed.

But the relief was short-lived. When I peered between my fingers, a dark spot on my gray underwear caught my attention. Panicked, I checked my jeans—same thing.

I hadn’t gotten my pants down as quickly as I thought, and it would be more than obvious. “Oh, shit,” I whispered, those tears returning full force. I couldn’t fight them anymore than I could my own bladder, and they poured hot down my cheeks.

I choked back the sniffles, my bladder aching with emptiness. I didn’t know how I was going to get a change of clothes without being detected, not with Theo hovering outside the door.

And fuck—they were a caregiver. What if they thought I did it on purpose for attention? I was not that kind of Little, nor did I expect them to deal with it themself.

A knock at the door, though soft, startled me. “Shea? Are you okay?”

“M’ fine,” I choked, sounding anything but, and Theo knew it.

“What’s wrong, little one?”

“I said, ‘I’m fine!’ Leave me alone!”

Uh-oh. I regretted the words as soon as they left my lips. “That’s no way to speak to someone, is it?” If Theo was hurt, it wasn’t evident in their voice.

No. No it wasn’t.

I cleaned myself, though it didn’t do much good because I cringed when I pulled up my soiled pants. Now they were cold and wet.

I squirmed my way across the room, disengaging the lock and cracking the door open. “I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Thank you.” Theo’s eyes scanned as far as they could see. “Now, do you need some help?”

I nodded, scrubbing my eyes, which were irritated from the tears. Theo put the pieces together without another word, their smooth bourbon eyes flashing with realization. They blinked, softening their tone. “Okay. Lock the door and wait for me.”

Another nod, and I locked the door. Briefly, I eyed the changing table, but I didn’t want to ruin it with my wet clothes.

I immediately scolded myself for the thought. That’s what changing tables are for, dumbass.

In the end, I leaned against the sink. My jeans were undone, and I shivered now knowing how wet they were, but I had even less desire to stand there naked than I did covered in my own piss.

Another gentle knock echoed through the empty room a few minutes later. I unlocked the door, and Theo entered, taking in the scene. I scrubbed at my runny nose. Like they were approaching a baby deer, they slowly closed the distance between us and set my bag on the changing table. “Could you not get your jeans off in time?”

Sniffling, I shook my head. “I did make it,” I defended, voice whinier than I cared to admit. “… mostly.”

“That’s okay.” I hadn’t made a move toward my bag, so Theo unzipped the top and began pulling out clean clothes. “Could you not stop for a potty break on your way here?”

My cheeks heated. How was I supposed to explain the anxiety of using the freaking toilet? But the question answered itself when they lifted a pair of underwear, and a small box tumbled free. That look flashed across their eyes again—understanding. They’d just found my testosterone injection. I expected questions, to be interrogated about how dangerous it was to hold it for so long or to dehydrate myself in this kind of heat, but they didn’t come.

“I get it,” Theo said instead, finally selecting a clean pair of pants and underwear. When I didn’t speak, they continued. “It’s okay. You’re in good hands. Can I have your safe word please? Or do you need me to use this?”

“This” was a special charm hanging off their lanyard. It was the size of a large keychain, shaped like a traffic light with the colors illuminated. I’d never been a nonverbal Little before, but words seemed nearly impossible in that moment. My finger drifted toward my mouth, and the other hand picked at the side of the charm. Finally, I landed on the green traffic light. I wasn’t sure what it was about this person that made me trust them, but I felt like I could truly regress with them, and everything would be okay.