“Austin.” Remington says my name almost like I should know what he’s talking about. “Yes, the Little side of it was fun and I enjoyed it. Don’t get me wrong. You don’t feel like we maybe crossed a line with falling asleep like that?”
I scrunch my brows together in confusion. I hadn’t thought that, until now. I move fully into the kitchen and stand next to him. I place my hands on the counter, secretly picking at my nail bed on my right thumb. “Do you? I didn’t really think about it. I remember plopping down on your lap and us talking a bit before I fell asleep. Should I have just gone to my room?”
I loved last night. It was innocent and fun and safe. I don’t regret anything, but it makes me sad to think maybe he does. He rinses the final dish and dries his hands before turning to me.
“I don’t regret it, Austin.” His eyes are serious. So is his expression. “But I just want to make sure that we’re doing this to make you comfortable. I don’t want anything to happen that you might regret or it might be too much too soon for you.”
I back out from bringing up what I told myself I would talk to him about. Maybe later in the day. Or tomorrow. I take his hand in mine and smile. “I don’t think anything we did last night was too much for me. I enjoyed myself.”
“And you’ll tell me if you’re feeling uncomfortable?” Remington searches my face and I hope it relays the honesty in my words.
“Of course I will. But you have to tell me if anything is too much for you too. I know this isn’t exactly a typical situation we’re in, with our history, but I’m enjoying it so far.”
“Okay, good. That’s all I needed to hear." He rolls his shoulders, like my words were the thing he needed to let it go. "Now, let’s see if these muffins are cooled enough yet. Go sit at the table and I’ll bring it to you.”
“Thank you,” I say and do as he says.
When he brings me my plate, it’s filled with more than a muffin. There are orange and apple slices, a dollop of peanut butter, the muffin, and a glass of milk. He goes back into the kitchen for his matching breakfast.
“I’ll have to run to the store at some point today to get stuff for tacos,” Remington says between bites. “Did you want to go with me or hang out here?”
“I might just hang out here,” I say. “Depending on what we can get through and all.”
“If any of that gets too hard for you, I need you to tell me.”
“I will, Remington. I promise, I’ll be okay to go through it.” I give him a smile before shoving a quarter of the muffin in my mouth.
“Small bites, Austin.” Remington immediately admonishes me and scoots the glass of milk closer. “Chew carefully. I don’t want you choking.”
I roll my eyes at him playfully, but I do as he says and wash it down with the cold milk. We finish breakfast and Remington takes our dishes to the sink and washes them quickly. I’ve never had such an empty sink for so long. I usually let them pile until I don’t have anything else to cook with or eat off of. Not the best way to do it, but I swear dishes have secret dish sex and multiply if you leave them overnight.
“Are you ready?” Remington offers his hand to me and I take it, letting him pull me from the seat and to the spare bedroom. I take a shuddering breath and nod, giving Remington the permission to open the door for the first time in six months.
Cardboard boxes sit everywhere. Some are stacked, others are on their own. There are black scribbles on the sides to remind me what is in each box. I count ten boxes. And I know there are a few things tossed into the closet as well. A tote of embroidered items my Daddy made and a couple of photo albums.
“Okay, so I say if we move all the boxes to one side of the room and go through them one-by-one together. You can decide if you want to keep it with you, keep it packed away, or possibly donate or trash it. Does that sound good?”
“I guess so,” I say. I’m nervous. I don’t know why because Remington has seen all of this stuff already. At least most of it. He’s a Daddy himself and no virgin. He's played with other Littles so the toys won't be anything new, most likely has dressed them and even diapered them if the moment called for it. I wonder exactly what his preferences are and ask that as he cuts through the tape on the first box.
“What do you mean?” Remington glances up at me and smiles. We’re sitting across from each other on the carpeted floor. I haven’t completely abandoned this room for the timeI've lived here. I come in and vacuum, knock down any spiderwebs in the corners, that sort of thing.
“With the whole age play,” I say matter-of-factly. “I know you have a membership to the club and you do scenes and stuff. I don’t remember you ever bringing a Little of your own around, but you’re really good at it. Even years ago, you would play with me and just go with everything like it was natural.”
“First off, it is natural. There’s nothing wrong with age regression play or kink. Second, I don’t really have a preference. It depends on the person, I guess. I’ve done scenes with different boys. Some were more Middles and liked video games or sports, some regressed fully until they were non-verbal. I like being able to play though, make up stories and have fun, but also cuddle and diaper them, dress them.”
“And do you like the naughty touches during play times?” Why? Why did I just ask that? My brain is really on a roll today with not thinking clearly. “I mean, I’m sorry. That’s personal.”
“You’re allowed to be curious and ask questions, Austin.” Remington is almost done pulling all the items out of this first box but I haven’t looked at a single one yet. “To answer the question, I don’t mind it either way. As long as it’s communicated beforehand and my boy knows what the safety word is and understands it. I like the dialogue it creates. I won’t do it if I don’t think their Little headspace will keep them from safe wording.”
That is really smart, and I’m completely ignoring the way more than just my brain agrees with that statement. I took care of that in the shower for a reason, but talking about this so openly with Remington is nice. My Daddy and I would do some stuff, especially during bath times, but by the time the water drained, we’d either stop or I’d be coming out of myLittle side and we’d move things to the bedroom. The thought of doing more was intriguing.
“What do you mean by dialogue?”
Remington finally moves the box out from between us and I look to the floor at the items. Most of them are toys. A few action figures and dolls, a baby doll I forgot about, and a couple of smaller blankets. I examine each one while Remington talks.
“Phrases that can be said during sex while my partner is Little that would be… stilted? I don’t know if that’s the right word for it, but things that your society-deemed typical couple wouldn’t think to say. Like you said, calling it naughty touches and things like that. I can’t really tell you specifics as it just happens in the moment, but talking during sex, laughing, having fun, is a big turn on for me and I’ve found I enjoy it both when my partner is in Little space or not. If that makes any sense.”
“Oh, okay. Yeah, Daddy and I used to do things like that,” I say. I look up from the baby doll to Remington. “Is it okay I still call him Daddy around you?”
