Cupping her chin, I lower my face to hers to kiss her and then take her hand to lead her inside and out of this freezing weather. It’s beautiful as hell out here, though. The lodge is in the middle of nowhere. When we had to turn down an unplowed road, I got a little concerned, but the guys we rented from had warned us ahead of time that it would be that way.
Almost everyone is here already, but they are in their rooms, likely unpacking. I already brought in our luggage and checked out our room, while Emma and Brynn played in the snow and Maddox supervised. Everything is perfect, and from what I could tell, fully stocked with everything I’ll need to turn my wife into my Baby Girl.
Emma
I’ve never seen somuch snow. Or a lodge like this. It looks like something you’d see in one of those cute Christmas movies where the snow is always white and they have no TVs. I love them, but Daddy always makes jokes about that. Even though the inside isn’t decorated yet, it smells like pine and cinnamon as soon as we enter. Every piece of furniture and décor makes the enormous place feel like a comfy cabin in the middle of the woods. One with Wi-Fi and cable. Morning cartoons are important.
My head swivels around from left to right, looking at everything I can while Beau leads me through the immense living room toward a set of stairs. I can hardly wait for tomorrow when we get the Christmas tree and decorate it because it’s going to be beautiful.
The hallway on the second floor is long and wide, and at the other end of it is another set of stairs. I think Daddy said there are rooms on both floors, but I can’t remember all the exact details. I was too excited to listen. That happens sometimes.
We walk into the fifth room, and Beau closes the door behind us. I’m not sure it can even be called a room. It’s more like a small apartment with a sitting area with a rocker and loveseat, a king-sized bed, and next to it is a crib.
Furrowing my brows, I study the crib and then notice there’s also a changing table. Below it are shelves filled with a bunch of supplies. Diapers, wipes, powder, blankets, bottles, and pacifiers.
When I look at my husband to see if he’s as surprised as I am, he smiles at me, his gaze studying.
“I think we need to talk, baby.”
My stomach drops. I hate those words. Mostly because I’m not very good at communicating.
“What’s your safeword, Emma?” he asks.
“Red.” My answer is automatic. I’ve never had to use it, but Beau has never once let me forget that I have it if I need it.
“Good girl.” He reaches out and takes my hand, leading me over to the rocking chair, and then sits down, pulling me onto his lap. “Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think you’re interested in what it might be like to go into a smaller headspace than you usually do.”
As soon as his words come out, I squirm on his lap. How does he know? I haven’t told anyone.
“Emma, it’s okay. It’s not a bad thing.” He holds me tighter against him so I can’t try to wiggle away.
Shoot.
If my cheeks aren’t beet red, my ears surely are. How could I eventhinkI want to experience being a Baby Girl if I can’t even look my husband in the eye when he talks about it?
“I know this might be difficult to discuss at first, but we’re married, and we need to. If it’s something you want to explore, we need to discuss that. You’re my girl, and I’m your husband and your Daddy. I told you in the beginning that we could change anything, and I meant it.”
Once again, I’m reminded why I’m the luckiest woman alive.
“It’s embarrassing,” I whisper.
Leaning back in the chair, Beau pulls me into his chest, cradling me against him. My head rests on his shoulder, so my lips are almost touching his neck. His scent soothes me, and I breathe it in the way I always do. Some people use aromatherapy for their anxiety; I use my husband.
“Is it embarrassing in a way that also makes you feel squirmy, or is it embarrassing in a way that you absolutely don’t want to experience it?”
The question makes me go still. Not because I don’t know the answer, but because I’ve never thought about it like that. Seeing how Maddox takes care of Brynn and how she’s often in front of the family in diapers or being bottle-fed, it makes me squirmy. It’s only gotten worse the more time I spend with Brynn, Lucy, Nora, and Ellie. It’s a layer of age play that I’ve often wondered about, but it’s so taboo. It’s a whole new level of trust.
Unable to lie to him, I answer truthfully, “It makes me squirmy.”
He nods and continues to rock me, with only the white lights on the fake Christmas tree illuminating the space.
“It’s okay that it turns you on, Emma. A lot of women get turned on by different levels of submission. Sometimes soft forms of humiliation are part of it, especially for Littles. It’s all part of the dynamic. But it can also be a good form of regression for you. It could be good for us.”
Closing my eyes, I run my fingers over his wedding band repeatedly. I love our life more than anything. We’re so lucky. But sometimes, all I want to do when I get home at night is nothing. I don’t want to put my pajamas on, or bathe myself, or think about anything. Mostly, Beau is part of my nightly routine. He picks out my pajamas and gets dinner ready, but I still have some control. It would be nice to leave it at the door when we get home.
“I’m scared,” I finally say.
“Why?” His question is quiet and genuine. He truly wants to know.
