"Bang," she said seriously.
Bear tilted his head, confused.
"We're working on it," she amended, giving him the bacon anyway. "He'll be a very fierce guard dog someday. Won't you, sweet boy?"
The way she talked to him—soft and encouraging, patient with his confusion—made something in my chest tighten. This was Eva without walls, without the constant vigilance that kept her sharp and ready to run. This was who she could be when she felt safe.
"Living room," I said when breakfast was done, when she'd eaten everything on her plate without prompting. "We need to talk."
Her shoulders tensed immediately, that hypervigilance snapping back into place. "That's never good."
"It's not bad. Just necessary."
She followed me anyway, Bear trotting behind with the confidence of a dog who'd never known anything but love. Eva settled on the floor with him, using his training as a shield, while I took the chair across from her. Close enough for intimacy, farenough that I could think clearly without her scent scrambling my brain.
“There’s something between us, isn’t theremalyshka?”
Her eyes widened and her cheeks turned pink. “After what happened on the hike, I would say definitely.”
"I’m glad you feel that way. Now. What do you know about DDlg dynamics?" I asked, deciding direct was better than dancing around it.
Her hands stilled on Bear's fur.
"It's . . ." She focused on Bear, not meeting my eyes. "Weird sex stuff for people with daddy issues."
"Is that what you think we have?" I kept my voice neutral, curious rather than judgmental. "Weird sex stuff?"
"I don't know what we have." The words came out small, uncertain. "I know you take care of me. I know I call you Daddy and it feels right even though it shouldn't. I know when you set rules, I want to follow them even while I'm breaking them."
"That's what I used to think it was," I admitted, leaning back in the chair. "Weird sex stuff. Until my brother Alexei got into it with Clara."
Her eyes snapped to mine, interested despite herself. "Your brother's into it? Alexei? The pakhan?"
"The very same. Watching them together, seeing how it worked for them, made me research it. Really research it, not just the surface assumptions." I pulled out the language I'd practiced in my head a hundred times. "It's about care and structure. About creating a safe space where someone can be vulnerable without being weak."
Bear had given up on bacon and was now trying to chew Eva's sleeve. She redirected him absently, but her attention was entirely on me.
"There are different types of Littles," I continued, watching her reactions carefully. "Some age regress completely, need bottlesand diapers and cartoon movies. Others just need guidance and rules, someone to make decisions when the world gets too heavy. Some are bratty, testing boundaries because they need to know the boundaries will hold. Some are good girls who thrive on praise and structure."
"Which am I?" she asked quietly.
"All of them. None of them. You're Eva." I leaned forward, elbows on my knees. "You've been my Little since you started smashing up my car on the ride home. Every time you've curled up small, every time you've asked permission for something, every time you've pushed against my rules just to see if I'd enforce them—that's been you being my Little and me being your Daddy. We just haven't named it."
Her walls slammed up so fast I could practically hear them. "Another cage? Another set of bars to keep me contained?"
"No." I kept my voice steady, patient. "This cage would have doors you control. Safe words that stop everything immediately. Red for stop, yellow for slow down, green for go. You'd have all the power, Eva. I'd just be holding it for you."
She was quiet for a long moment, fingers buried in Bear's fur. When she spoke, her voice was carefully controlled.
"The corner time. The cold showers. That was already this, wasn't it?"
"Dom/sub dynamics, yes. Just unnamed." I watched her process this, those clever eyes working through implications. "You responded to structure because you've never had it consistently. Not punishment for punishment's sake, but consequences that make sense. Boundaries that don't move. Someone who gives enough of a damn to correct you when you're spiraling."
Bear had fallen asleep against her leg, puppy snores filling the silence. Eva's hand kept moving through his fur, self-soothing in a way she probably didn't realize.
"I have looked into it before,” she admitted suddenly. "Found forums, blogs, people talking about being Littles."
My eyebrows rose. "That makes sense."
