Page 7 of Abbott’s Lost Spoon

“Yes, it is.”

“Is it just for ice cream, or do you use it for everything?” He wasn’t just being polite. He wanted to know.

“It’s my ice-cream spoon.”

“Oh, I hope mine is worthy of such a special spoon.”

Mine. Not the.

“Yours?”

He smiled. “Yep. I made this.”

That made it a million times more special. He asked me what toppings I wanted, and I said yes to a lot more than I normally would because it kept me talking to him. I even tried some of the edible glitter, which was a little sus, but, also, I was fascinated by it. He made sundaes for everybody, not just me. I’d seen him do it, and still, it felt personal when he handed me the completed bowl and our fingers brushed.

I was sure of it.

Although, there was a lot of wishful thinking playing into that.

We found a table to eat together, and I took my first bite. Despite being heavier on the candy than normal, it was good, really good. And the ice cream? If he hadn’t been joking and he was the person who made it, he knew what he was doing. This wasn’t grocery-store stuff.

The rule was that we could have our first, and then after story time, we could have seconds. Ms. Lily said something about keeping our tummies from getting too full. But being at the end of the line, I saw the truth of it. The place needed to be restocked and cleaned up.

She had a huge book that needed a stand to hold it, about the biggest ice cream cone in the world and a little boy who used a ladder to get his friend the cherry. It was kinda gross if you thought too much about it, but also sweet. As soon as the story was over, people were racing to get back in the line. Normally, I wouldn’t have a second serving, but I really wanted to see him again, and so I did.

Once again, he made it for me with care, I ate it with my friends, and I spent far too much time staring at him.

“Playtime!” Brock deemed it so.

We went straight to block tower building because there was something so satisfying about building it super tall and knocking it down. It was better when a daddy built the tower and we got to knock it down, but we didn’t have any daddies with us. After some back-and-forth, we decided to build towers for everyone and then knock them down all at once.

That worked exactly one time. The towers were too short. We ended up taking turns, each of us getting one. This was a time when a daddy would’ve been really helpful.

We went from activity to activity. I didn’t envy the people who worked here. Sticky fingers were all over everything. I was having a blast. While I was playing, I was pretty engrossed in the activities. But during those transitions, when we were figuring out how to go from one activity to the next, I kept getting distracted by the hot daddy who was cleaning or serving or stacking bowls. It was the first time I could remember being here when Ms. Lily announced it was time to clean up. I’d stayed for an entire party. And, weirdest of all, I was sad that it ended.

When we got back to the changing room, I wasn’t in the mood to take everything off to put new on. So I just pulled my jeans up and over my shorts and called it good. I needed to go home and take a shower. Because if I didn’t, I was going wake up stuck to the bed. That was how sticky I was.

Chapter Six

Soren

The party was a big hit, and I even got to listen to the story while Karen and I got things ready for seconds. Everyone had been served in the adorable bowls with the animal-themed spoons, or at least all but one. The little who had his own special ice-cream spoon. Ms. Lily turned the pages in the oversized picture book with the pages that unfolded to reveal the “world’s biggest ice-cream cone” and the boys and girls who built a ladder to get to the top and retrieve the cherry for their friend.

As expected, as soon as the story ended, all the littles lined up for a second round. We’d brought far more than we thought we’d need, but they made a good dent in the gallons and really did a number on the toppings. The glitter was only a memory.

After the littles played a couple of games, the party was over. Usually, in the little room, there were a lot of daddies and mommies with their boys and girls. This was the first time I’d been there when it was littles only—except for Chained staff and Karen and me. It was a whole different experience and one I appreciated being able to be present for.

Normally, those who had their own daddies or mommies or even chose a single caregiver for an evening of play were very focused on that person, but tonight? They showed a whole different side of being little. We were just there to serve their treats, although they were very sweet and polite, and Ms. Lily and a couple of other staff members were there to make sure it all went smoothly. Leaving the littles to focus on one another and play together without the guidance the daddies would normally have provided.

Not that the daddies would have been bossing them around, at least not usually. But the littles would be looking to them for various sorts of things. For example, a common activity was a daddy building a big tower for the little to knock down. This afternoon, I witnessed a group of littles build a tower then look at one another in awe. They had a consultation and then one of them did the honors, sending the blocks tumbling while the others cheered him on.

Things were less organized with no daddies suggesting a little finish one activity before starting another. Faces were not wiped of chocolate syrup. But it wasn’t a bad situation at all. I’d had littles tell me that sometimes when a group didn’t have a daddy, they would parent one another—but not in this situation.

They were just wild and free and having fun. And Ms. Lily’s staff was going to have a messier than usual room to clean.

When they were all gone, we gathered our bowls and spoons and serving ware into a plastic storage box, threw away the paper napkins, and folded the tablecloths on top of the box. We had a gallon or so left, and I gave that to the staff, along with some chocolate and caramel syrup and chopped nuts that remained.

Once out of the little room, we passed through the club that was getting ready to open. Unlike the little room, where games and stories were the order of the day, along with treats and crafts, most of the private rooms and certainly the main room were an entirely different world. A world of floggers and dungeon furniture and stimulation of all kinds. There was also a conversation area where I often met with the other daddies to relax and have a drink or talk about our lives.