Chapter Six
My mind is all over the place when I wake up the next morning after the best sleep I’ve had in fuck-only-knows how long, despite the (likely cheap) mattress being kind of uncomfortable.
Who would have thought that I would have a mind-blowing kink experience at a random age-regression camp out in the middle of nowhere? Not me, that’s for sure.
I’ve never had a Daddy drag things out like that. I’ve never had a Daddy be somehowsofirm and yetsooverwhelmingly gentle at the same time. Most of the Daddies I’ve been with either really get into the shame/humiliation of my favorite kind of bratting and defiance, or they lean into spanking as a go-to disciplinary measure. And don’t get me wrong: I enjoy both of those things a lot. But Kris somehow managed to make me feel embarrassed without hamming it up, and his punishment —somehow making mechooseto behave without any kind of force— only made that squirmy, fluttery feeling that I live for even stronger.
I still have no idea how he managed it, honestly. Maybe I was just that worked up, so it was easier to push meto the edge, but I don’t think that’s it. There was just something about him and his manner and the calm way he handled me thatreallydid it for me.
I’m not sure how to feel about it.
I wasn’t lying when I told him that I usually just want to get off and then part ways with a Daddy. But, after yesterday, I can kind of see the appeal in doingmore. Like…not just kink for sexy purposes. I mean, we cuddled and watched cartoons for at least an hour, and none of that made me horny. It was just…nice. Relaxing. There was no pressure. It made that post-orgasm floaty feeling last longer. Kris didn’t demand conversation; he didn’t expect me to act in any particular way. He just let mebe.
I’m not used to that. Like, not at all.
Suddenly, I have the urge to actually talk to someone about it, which is also very new for me. I don’t have any close friends. I never have. I moved around a lot as a kid and learned early on not to get attached because I couldn’t really keep those friendships going. Then, as I got older, I realized I was different to most boys. More effeminate, more childish, more into dicks than boobs. And that was before I discovered kink.
Being the weird, obviously gay new kid taught me to toughen up early on. I learned to be snarky, sassy, full-on bitchy. I learned to be louder than the loudest of the assholes, to be unapologetically myself because, at the end of the day, I was going home to myself. I had to live with myself. I had to make myself happy, not anyone else.
Unfortunately, I’ve since learned that this life training has made me an acquired taste, socially speaking.
Nevertheless, for the first time in a long time, I wish I had close friends. I know that some of my colleagues are also in the lifestyle —I've seen Anson and Vince at The Grove— but itwould be weird to reach out to either of them about this at random, wouldn't it? Especially when we've never mentioned it at work. It's like we've all silently agreed not to talk about it.
It would be nice to talk about it, though.
Sadly, this is the bed I have made for myself, and I am going to have to lie in it, or whatever.
But maybe,I think to myself as I get ready for another day at the camp,I can make friends here.
***
“If you're so bored,” sneers James, one of the Middles from yesterday, as I poke listlessly at the pile of long leaves in front of me, “you should go join one of the Littles groups.”
Today I chose to join the basket weaving activity for Middles. It is not going well. Like yesterday, everyone else is paired up happily, which adds to the weird, lonely headspace I started the day in. Additionally, the Mommy caregiver running the activity isnotas fun to stir up as Kris was. She didn't seem amused by my sassing, and gave me two warnings that, if I didn't start behaving, she would eject me from the group.
I thought caregivers were supposed to be nicer.
On top of all of that, I'm stuck on a picnic blanket with my new arch-nemesis, so the chances of making a friend today seem to be plummeting.
Trying not to make a face, I reply, “I'm not in Little space. I'm just—”
“You could've fooled me,” they interrupt a bit rudely, and I cut a sideways glance to Ed, their Daddy, to see if any reprimand mightfollow. My tummy sinks a bit when he stays silent and lets James continue. “I mean, seeing as you're a big baby and all.”
Unwittingly, I strangle the leaf in my hand a bit. “What?”
Smug satisfaction has them quirking their lips and they shrug. “You peed your pants in front of everyone yesterday.”
This loud declaration is met with a few snickers from nearby Middles. Some of the people from the next blanket over turn around to look at me, too. My face heats up.
When I'm braced for it or seeking it, the embarrassment is fun. But when I'm not...
“Well,” I snort, affecting my own haughty tone and straightening my shoulders, “that's an interesting way to tell the class thatyouhave a super vanilla sex life.” Really leaning into the attitude now, I affect a stage-whisper, “I can get you a book called 'Kinks For Dummies', I think it was written just for you.”
“That's enough,” Counselor Becky interrupts as James’s eyes narrow and their cheeks flush with furious indignation. She stands at the edge of our picnic blanket, her hands planted on her hips. “You're done here, Benji.”
I can't help feeling a rush of my own indignation. “What? So it's okay for them to call me a baby, but—”
“I don't want to hear it. You've been disrupting the activity since you got here.”
