It wasn’t something I’d considered possible before, used to daddies who wanted someone to do scenes with and men or women who wanted to date. Falling in love with someone who also made me chickie nuggies and tubbie times? Sign me up.
If only it were as easy as that.
I came home from work, ready to hit up our playroom, only to find the house empty. On a Friday night, it shouldn’t have surprised me that people were out and about living their best lives. Still, I was disappointed. I still could play in our shared spaces; nothing prevented me from going to the little room and doing so. We had the playroom for a reason, but I had an itch to be around people.
That was a lie. I had an itch to be around daddies. I’d dated both men and women, but when it came to being little, I sat firmly in the daddy lane.
Maybe it didn’t matter that no one was home. I’d still have been yearning to go to Chained in my current state. I packed my backpack, and off I went. I wasn’t sure if I’d get the nerve to ask whether any daddies were there to play or not, but even if I didn’t, it was a first step.
I used one of the communal changing areas and got myself ready to play. I longed for a daddy who would do that for me, get my clothes on, help me start slipping into the right headspace long before I left the changing room. But that wasn’t happening today, and I refused to let myself get grumpy about it. Instead, I slipped out of the dressing room, as a couple of littles walked in, and made my way into the little room.
There were a lot more people here than the first time I went. I was beginning to see how popular this area was compared to other clubs I’d visited. I looked around to see if there were any daddies by themselves. At first, I thought there was one. He looked at me, a small smile on his face, and I was ready to go over, introduce myself, and see if he was looking for a playmate. I barely took one step when I saw he very much wasn’t alone. He had an adorable little with him, and from the way the little hugged his leg, I suspected that they were more than just people who did scenes together.
It had been ridiculous for me to think I could just walk in here and find a daddy.
So, instead, I got on the floor, crawled over to the blocks, and started stacking them. But I kept finding myself looking over at them, seeing them play together. The more I tried not to, the more I found myself doing so.
The little waved at me, and I decided, why not? I could go over and play with them. There was no harm in that. And if they didn’t want to play, they could just say no. Slowly, I crawled over, giving myself space to change course if I chickened out at the last second.
And then I heard the daddy saying his name for the first time in my earshot. Brax. The name suited him. He laughed and laughed the most adorable giggle, and I felt so safe approaching them.
“I don’t have a daddy,” I said, “and I came with no friends. Can I play with you two?” My heart was pounding, but I did it. I asked them, and they accepted me with open arms.
“I like playing. I’m Brax, and this is Daddy. You can call him Daddy Cliff if you want.”
“I’m Edwin.” There was so much more to say, but this was little time and they didn’t need the details of my work and home changes.
I was used to playing with other littles, but not when they had their daddies with them. I waited for some uncomfortableness to break through, but it didn’t. I had fun. We played with cars, racing them around. We put puzzles together. We played with the Play-Doh, and Cliff even got some out of my hair. But the most fun was when I asked Brax if he liked art.
“I like glitter and glue and coloring and stickers,” he said.
“I like stickers too!” I replied, and I grabbed his hand before realizing maybe I’d stepped over a boundary. I pulled it right back.
“Look, you shouldn’t have to do that,” Cliff reassured me. “I’m not going to be upset because my sweet boy is having fun.”
We went over to the coloring area. I got a dragon picture this time, and Brax got a matching one. We colored away.
“Look at how nicely you two boys color, and you’re sharing your crayons so well,” Cliff said.
He wasn’t treating me like an outsider. He was treating me like a little friend. Before I knew it, I was completely in little space, just letting my heart loose via the crayons and filling the page with stickers. How nice it would be to have friends like this, a daddy and a little, where I could just play and be taken care of,and have both a caregiver and a bestie at once. But I knew better than to go down that path.
They were together, together. No good would come of me getting in the middle of that. It wasn’t like daddies wanted multiple littles, and, if they did, it was usually for bedroom stuff. That was never going to be the foundation of my relationships. I wanted more than to be a couple’s unicorn.
The room started getting emptier and emptier. As much as I didn’t want to go, I could no longer ignore Brax glancing at the clock. It was getting late and, all too soon, I was going to need to say good night. But not until I colored another picture.
Chapter Five
Brax
“I messed up,” Edwin said. His shoulders slumped, and his bottom lip thrust out in a pout. Adorable.
“Where?” I pretended not to see the red strokes from the crayon that extended beyond the black line into the empty space.
“There. I was coloring the apple. I messed up.” He pointed to the spot and blew out a long breath. This little was entirely too hard on himself.
I shrugged. It wasn’t a big deal. The point of all of this was to relax and have fun. To put aside the part of us that stressed out, had anxiety, overworked, the part of us that constantly worried about messing up. “You could make the background with spots. All kinds of colored spots. I can help you, if you want.”
“Oh! That’s a good idea. Thank you. Please, help me.”
