“Sure, it’s not a problem. What time do you want to leave?”
“Eight is fine.” I volunteer at a youth hostel that has a gym night for the older kids, and typically my night to supervise it is Saturday. The same night as my party at Bound
That will give me a couple of hours to eat, then get ready. I love the Littles Party. Each Daddy takes something to eat; I’m taking chopped veggies and dips. The littles get hyper on the sugary alcohol-free cocktails and cookies. The exhibitionists come out as they lose their clothes, stripping to tease us. It’s chaotic and fun, especially when we take control and bring the littles a little discipline if they don’t behave.
“Cool.” Drake goes back over to the boxing ring; he’s training a group of kids from the same local youth group. Keeping them from getting bored and hanging around street corners and parks.
I pat Drake on the shoulder. “Thanks, bro.”
“Have fun.” He winks at me, then turns his attention back to the ring, the kids here are older and can have way too much arrogance. “Hey, chill, Max. Go run it off.” Max givesDrake a look that would cower a weaker man. “And less attitude or you’re out.”
“You okay with him? Knox will watch him for you.”
Drake gives me a nod. “The running machine is the ultimate punishment for him; his temper can get the best of him sometimes. This will balance him again.”
“You’re a good man, Drake.”
He chuckles, which earns another look of spite from the seventeen-year-old. “Another ten minutes for that, kiddo.”
I grin at my brother, then leave.
Shrieks of laughter and giggling hit me as I stride through the door of the club. There are five littles already playing. It looks like they’re already overexcited since they’re all chattering and giggling as they look at the Daddies. “Sorry I’m a little late.”
“No, you’re good, these turned up like this.” Cole rolls his eyes but loves the lightness and laughter these subs bring.
As I reach the play ring, one of the boys looks at me and claps excitedly. “Yay, Daddy Royal is here.” He sashays over to me, his eyes sparkling with mischief.
I bend down to run my hand through his light brown hair. “Are you being naughty, Alfie?”
“I’m a good boy, especially for you.” He gives his shorts-covered arse a wiggle.
“Then you’d better get back to your friends.” I give his backside a playful smack before he rushes back, giggling all the way. I love these nights, and although I consider myself a Daddy, I’m not into the ABDL lifestyle. I enjoy looking after the subs that are boys.
I sit on one of the wide, leather chair and greet the other Daddies. “Are we expecting more?” I look at the half dozen Daddies and then at the littles.
An older Daddy called Mitchell replies. “Yeah, there’s eight on the list, and David and Andrew aren’t here yet.” He mentions two other Daddies.
Cole usually makes sure there’s an even number, but sometimes we’re able to take two littles to play with. Rich walks over with a glass of soda and lime for me. “Thanks.”
“You were asking about the boy with the tattoo the other night. He’s new to the club but not the scene. He’s just moved here; he’s down to be here tonight.”
Hmm, this sounds like it’s going to be fun. A new little will have all the Daddies interested; the littles will love having a new friend to play with, or he could be a boy. A sassy, flirty boy could be just what I need.
One of the littles, a very cute young man called Ben crawls up to his Daddy, Philip. “Can the picnic start soon?”
Just then the door opens again. I look away from Ben and Philip. The last two Daddies walk in and are laughing with the boys—one obviously a little—that are with them. My eyes fix on one and freeze.
What. The. Ever-loving. Fuck!
Memphis.
As if he feels my eyes on him, he looks away from Andrew to me. I expect shock or surprise on his face, but there’s none. He knew I was going to be here. Before I register what I’m doing, I’m on my feet and striding towards him.
I stop in front of him, halting any progress from him. Our bodies are almost touching. “What the fuck are you doing here?”
He blinks at me. I don’t see any concern on his, fucking hell, beautiful face. During his seven years away, he’s become fucking gorgeous. My absolute perfect type, and I’m so pissed offwith him I want to drag him outside and tell him to fuck off. The other men with him have all stopped, and I can feel their eyes on me and Memphis.
“What’s going on, Royal? Are you okay, Memphis?”
