His caretaker planned the snowstorm. Baby just didn’t know it.
When the blizzard locks them in, the world outside disappears—exactly how Grant wanted it. No distractions. No escape. Just warm bottles, thick diapers, and his boy whimpering in his arms.
Connor wanted to let go. Now he has no choice.
He’s milked. Changed. Plugged. Praised. Caged tight and stretched wide. Every squishy accident earns a deep, filthy reward. The more he surrenders, the more he gets taken—his body, his pride, his every trembling moan.
Outside, the snow piles high. Inside, his baby boy is wet, needy, and kept.