A new wave of nerves hits me as I take in the number of couples in line. As far as I can tell, no one looks like a little.Did I make a big mistake?I slip my hand into my book bag and search around until I skim the soft material of Icy’s fur.
Right when I’m about to pull out my phone and ask Adrian and Theo to turn around, an SUV pulls up to the curb, and three giggling men hop out—no, not men. Littles. I recognize them immediately. A beautiful Filipino boy with thick black hair leads the group. Ash. He’s wearing a cute onesie with little ducks for the design. Right behind him is Riley. Even though he has a thick beard, there’s no mistaking he’s a little as he clutches a purple cat stuffie. The third boy, Wylan, is Riley’s best friend. He’s wearing bright red shorts and a cute Superman shirt.
Technically, Wylan doesn’t consider himself a little, but rather a boy with little tendencies. I loved chatting with him as he explained that he doesn’t age regress like me or the other two littles, but he still likes to play with Riley, in a big brother capacity. He kind of reminds me of how Adrian plays with me, and I can totally see the two of them getting along.
Ash spots me first. To my shock, he squeals and runs forward, throwing his arms around me and causing me to laugh. Wylan’s face lights up when he sees me smiling, and suddenly, both Wylan and Riley are there, hugging me as well. The three boys squeal and giggle as they hop in place.
“It’s so nice to meet you, Felix!”
I nod in agreement, overwhelmed with happiness. After a few minutes of eager chatter, we finally make it past Tony, the security guard, and into the club.
“Let’s go get ready before the Daddies show up,” Ash says, tugging me forward.
Wylan glances at my appearance with a warm smile. “Don’t worry, each room has a changing station so you can get into your onesie if you feel comfortable.”
If you feel comfortable.
I offer Wylan a sweet smile. These guys aren’t going to force me into doing something. I don’t need to wear anything to impress them or change just to fit in. I can already tell that they are here for me and willing to go at my pace.
The moment I put on my sailboat pajamas and rejoin my new friends—with Icy in my arms—my little side surfaces, and I’m ready to play!
Chapter 4
Part of who I am.
Clayton
“Hey there, Clay.”
I flash a grin at my friend, who works security for Dark Satin. “Tony! How’s it going?” Extending my hand, he clasps ours together before pulling me in for a hug.
“Good. How’s the ice cream biz?”
I chuckle. “Now that it’s summer, Scoops has been busy as hell. I even had to hire a few extra seasonal employees.” Had someone told me I’d own an ice cream parlor straight out of college, I would have found it laughable. Choosing my major gave me a clear life plan: intern at a major brand and climb the corporate ladder. All while working on my mind, body, and spirit. I’m committed to self-improvement. Bettering myself to become the confident, brave person I always wished I was growing up.
Then Gran called and announced that she finally wanted to retire. Gran wanted to keep the parlor in the family, but Mom didn’t have any interest. Me, on the other hand? Something inside of me said this was the right move. The challenge of taking over Gran’s shop not only sounded like fun, but I knew I could make it even more profitable. It was a goal that took root and never let go.
“That’s great to hear. Scoops has clearly become the best place for ice cream in town. Not that your Gran didn’t do an amazing job, but that salted caramel chocolate turtle is out of this world. Way better than aDairy QueenorBaskin-Robbins, that’s for damn sure.”
“Thanks, man. You know me, I love playing around with different flavors and coming up with new concoctions. How is it in there?” I point just inside the club.
“Starting to fill up. There are several new littles tonight.” He winks. “Who knows, maybe one will finally catch your eye.”
I playfully shove him. “Yeah, yeah,” I say, waving his words away.
Making my way through the front door, I greet several other friends as I walk toward the back. Little’s Night is my favorite night at the club. Dark Satin’s dance floor is busy as usual, but I easily bypass all the writhing bodies and make my way past the second set of security at the wrought-iron staircase. I have one goal in mind, and that’s the playroom.
I discovered Daddy kink when I was a freshman in college. It was a complete accident, but I was at Cinny Latte, the local café, studying for class when several people were there attending a munch geared toward Daddies and littles. One couple in particular caught my eye. An attractive Black man in his late twenties or early thirties, along with his boyfriend, a charming twink who appeared to be around my age and sported lavender hair.
At one point, the twink called his boyfriend Daddy. Later, I found out the Daddy was named Marcel, and the lavender-haired cutie was Harley. But what truly fascinated me was the way Marcel fussed and cared for Harley, by taking charge, ordering food for Harley, and even feeding him by hand. When my staring became too obvious, Marcel invited me over, and just like that, I had two new friends and was a newbie asking a million questions about Daddy/boy vs. Daddy/little dynamics. I even found out about things like pet play, since Harley liked to get into a cute bunny headspace rather than age regress.
It was a lot of information, probably too much for a newb like me, but I was fascinated and eager to learn. After weeks ofresearch and several other munches, I started daydreaming of what it would be like to have a little of my own. Somehow, my fantasies blended with my dreams of finding Lex and apologizing to him. Would he like it if I took care of him? Or what if I did things like prepare him food, tucked him in, and kept him safe at night? Was it wrong to want to wrap him up in my arms and protect him from any future bullies?
It’s then that I started realizing that this strange need to spoil Lex had nothing to do with wanting to say I’m sorry, but rather, caring for those around me is a part of who I am. It’s a need I would have for any boyfriend. So, of course, it would make sense that I’d want to spoil my high school crush.
Upon entering the playroom, the sounds of happy chatter, laughter, and littles playing with blocks fill my ears. My gaze takes in the room before coming to a screeching halt.
At first, I think I’m seeing things, imagining the impossible, and wishing for it to be true. Yet, when a specific laugh breaks through my stunned state, I know what I’m seeing is real.
