Daddy took my trash and dumped it into a garbage can next to the front door on our way through. Directly inside was a woman sitting behind an impressive bronze desk, and as soon as Daddy asked for Mr. Jericho, she called him. Less than a minute later he strode into view and held his hand out to me. I shook with him, and he grinned at Daddy. His blond hair looked more professional today, slicked down with product and tucked neatly behind his ears, and the sage button-down he wore clung to his sturdy shoulders while the sleeves were rolled to his elbows.
“Didn’t think you’d get him here today. This is good, healthy,” he said, including me and Daddy both in the declaration while bouncing his attention between us. I didn’t feel so great as I waved at Mr. Jericho, and he frowned at me.
“Are you okay?”
I nodded.
His mouth turned down in one corner. “Okay, well follow me, then.” He took us along a hallway to the right of the desk that emptied into a space that might have once been a dining room, but instead of a table there was a circle of about ten solid wooden chairs. Our feet were loud on the gleaming oak floor and I winced at the echo. Already seated was a big, muscled man with white-blond hair; a guy who had a soft middle and a cute face; a boy with black hair wearing makeup, who seemed like he was barely eighteen; and a man wearing pink shorts and a shiny tank top, who was snapping gum. The final person stood out because he was an older man with glasses wearing a nice white button-down, and he had a beard like Daddy, so I liked him better than everyone else.
When I groped toward Daddy, he took my hand. “Can you stay, Daddy?” I asked, and I thought I was being quiet, but my voice carried and everyone in the room turned to stare at us.
Mr. Jericho smiled. “Your Daddy will be right outside. I’ll get him a chair.”
“Thanks,” Daddy said, but he sounded irritated with his friend. “You can leave anytime you want to come find me. It’s okay.”
Those words gave me the courage to nod. If I knew I wasn’t trapped it was better. Daddy smiled, and so did Mr. Jericho and the man in glasses with the nice beard.
“There are plenty of empty chairs,” the nicely dressed man said. “I’m Hank and I run this meeting.”
When Daddy walked out into the hallway I felt scared in a way I hadn’t at the church and wrung my hands together. Everyone was watching, so I felt like I didn’t have a choice except to go over and take a seat on one of the cold, uncomfortable chairs. I was going to crawl out of my skin.
Hank came over and took the seat directly next to me, even though I’d made sure to pick a spot with several chairs on either side. He held out his hand, and I shook my head at him.
“That’s okay, no one has to do anything they aren’t comfortable with here. Jericho thought you might appreciate a men’s group, but there is a more general BDSM trauma survivor’s group on Thursday nights at six. You’re welcome to come to both.” He clapped his hands together and looked around at everyone else. They all seemed like they knew one another, and discomfort oozed through me, a tar that stuck to my insides and made me quiver.
“Trauma? I.... I’m fine. I wasn’t in the hospital or anything. I have a Daddy who’s nice now.”
Hank gave me a soft smile; maybe he understood. “Today we’re going to talk about how everyone is doing with their daily structure. Sometimes after a long relationship that isn’t healthy, especially when you’re used to a Daddy—” He nodded at me. “—or a Dom telling you how to spend your time, it’s difficult to go back to dealing with it yourself.”
Leaning forward, I frowned at him. “Like... what? I know what to do every day.” I crossed my arms. “I take care of my Daddy.”
Hank’s head tipped until his chin touched his chest, and the man in the shiny pink shirt winked at me. “Ah, living the dream. I’m Rosy.” Rosy pointed at the muscled man. “That’s Drake. There’s little Billy Blue.” The boy brushed his dark bangs out of his eyes and sighed. “And that sweet cuddle muffin there is Baker.” The last guy with the cute face raised his hand but had an unpleasant expression now, unlike when I’d first spotted him.
“Phoenix,” I said faintly. “Like the city.”
“Thank you, Rosy,” Hank said, shaking his head, but he was smiling. “So, since you brought it up, Phoenix, why don’t you tell us what you do for your Daddy every day?”
“Oh, well I get up early to make sure I have Daddy’s coffee ready....” I trailed off and licked my lips. I really wasn’t following the routine I’d been living for years anymore. My breath caught. “I make sure he has everything he could need, including me if he wants me, but....” I shrugged. “I used to do a lot of things every day. The same things, unless my Daddy told me otherwise. I haven’t been with my new Daddy long. He’s very understanding, doesn’t punish me all the time.”
Drake flashed a grin at me. “It sounds like you will do a nice job for him.”
Perking up, I settled back into my chair and relaxed a little.
Baker snorted. “We’re supposed to be talking about real life here, not indulging someone still stuck in a fantasy.”
Hank raised a hand. “It isn’t a requirement that people in the group abandon BDSM. We’re not going to start flinging around judgment.”
Baker flushed. “So, I just have to listen to this?” There was real anguish in his words, and I felt terrible and confused. What had I done?
“It isn’t his fault.” Rosy leaned forward and snapped his gum. “He’s cuter than a puppy in a bow. Of course some Dom snatched him up. You’re bitter.”
“I’m not.” Baker stood up, but Hank gestured at him to sit again, and he did. “Wanna know what I do? I wake up and chain-smoke. There’s no one to tell me not to anymore.” He glared around at each person in turn as if daring anyone to say a word about it.
Hank cleared his throat. “What would you like to be doing?”
Baker sighed and wiped a hand over his face. “It doesn’t matter, does it?”
I hated the negativity floating around because it had me on edge, but Daddy thought this would be helpful to me for some reason, so I stayed. Most of the meeting revolved around everyone brainstorming things Baker could do with his day when he wasn’t working, but I mostly felt bad because me talking about Daddy had caused him to be upset in the first place.
