“You’re not just saying all that stuff?”
I chuckle. How many times have I told her that I want her? I’ll tell her every day until she believes me. “Nope. I’m really interested in you.”
“Like that, though?” She narrows her gaze. “Or do you see me as the Little girl you keep calling me?”
“Oh, angel. Age play has nothing to do with me seeing you as a child. I’m well-aware you’re a grown adult. When I call you Little, I’m seeing you as someone who desires to be cared for and nurtured. Not young, but a type of submissive.”
She flinches. “You’re not going to boss me around, are you?”
I chuckle. “I’ll definitely boss you around if that’s something you like, but not in the way you’re picturing.”
“In what way do Daddy types boss their women around? Because I’ve had about all the bossing I can take for one lifetime. I’m not inclined to handwash your clothes or clean your floors on my hands and knees with a toothbrush.”
I kiss her pretty lips briefly because she’s so fucking cute. “We Daddy types do not let our Littles do domestic chores at all, angel. Under my care, you will not cook, clean, or do laundry.”
She gasps. “You’re kidding.”
“Nope. Daddies do those things. The type of bossing Daddies do is completely different. People who practice age play often enjoy an environment where the Daddy makes and enforces rules appropriate for whatever age the Little enjoys playing at.” I hope I’m not complicating things by introducing her to this right now. It wasn’t in my plan.
She cocks her head to one side. She’s so adorable when she’s deep in thought. “You mean like touching the hot stove?”
“Exactly. Running in the house. Playing with scissors without supervision. Answering the front door without checking with Daddy first.”
She shudders and glances toward the door. “If someone knocks on that door, I’m far more likely to hide in the closet than answer it.”
“Then you won’t get in trouble with your Daddy, will you?” I lift a brow. It probably isn’t my best example, but I think she gets the point.
She turns back to me. A moment later, her face breaks and she giggles. “You’re serious.”
“Yep. Now, every relationship is different, and every aspect of the dynamic has to be negotiated. I’m oversimplifying on the fly here.”
“Negotiated?” Her brow furrows.
I nod. “When two people enter into any kind of Dominant/submissive relationship, they should sit down and discuss what they both want out of it. A good Dominant or Daddy Dom doesn’t just bark orders that weren’t agreed upon beforehand. They sit down in neutral headspaces and make lists. I don’t necessarily mean they have to itemize things like playing with knives. A lot of that falls under the specific age range the Little enjoys. But talking about the consequences is vital.”
“The consequences…” She shivers, but at the same time, she squeezes her thighs together and says, “Like spankings?”
I narrow my gaze at her. “How the hell do you know so much about age play, Eloise? It’s eerie, and I suspect you’re so fucking intelligent that you grasp concepts faster than most people.”
“You really think I’m smart?”
“I know you’re smart, Little one. Very.”
She chews on her bottom lip for a minute before releasing it. “So, you did mean spankings?”
I chuckle. “Usually. Some Littles don’t like to be spanked, though. They prefer some other kind of punishment.”
She stares at me again, thinking hard. I can practically see the wheels turning in her head. She grips her knees even tighter as she says, “I get it.”
“Do you?” I chuckle. I’m quite certain she understands ten times more than anyone else would from this brief chat.
She nods and grips her thighs with her hands as she explains, “At first, I wondered why anyone would break the rules if they knew they were going to be punished, but then I realized the punishment is the point. Littles intentionally misbehave because they like getting spanked.”
Fuck, she’s brilliant.
I smile. “Bingo.”
Her gaze narrows again. “What if they don’t like getting spanked? I bet some Littles don’t like it because they were abused or they don’t like pain.”
