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“What will he do in the Littles Room?”
Lawrence laughed. “Whatever he wants. He might color or play with toys, or just sit next to you or in your lap and watch the others. He’ll know what it takes to get him in that head space that he craves. He’s the best judge of that.”
“I see. That’s different.”
“For a Dom like you, yes. You’re used to gauging what your sub wants and then giving him what you want him to have based on both your needs. A Daddy still has to figure out what their boy needs and wants, but they have to trust him to know too. At least in some areas. Littles can be notorious for not eating properly or taking enough rest. You may have to enforce and set rules around dietary needs and naps and personal hygiene. If your boy has bad habits he’s been allowed to get into, then a good Daddy will take control of that and help him break those bad habits. But always gently and keeping in mind that a Little is not into pain or a lot of humiliation.”
“Cruz sucks his thumb, which is unsanitary to me. Not good for his teeth, either. Can I break him of that?”
“Yes, but it depends. Like does he need it to get into the right headspace? If he does, then you may have to substitute a pacifier and take it slowly. He might not like it at first.”
“If he misbehaves?”
Lawrence smiled. “He probably will. I have some methods I can share with you if you want me to.”
“That would be great. I love the idea of taking care of him. I’d like to get started right away.”
“I don’t see why not. But go slowly. You’re an experienced Dom, but this is different in some important ways. You can always call me and ask questions, and I’ll help if I can.”
“Thank you, Lawrence. And thanks for being there for him the other night.”
“My pleasure. He’s a sweet boy. I really hope this works out for the two of you.”
“I do too. I’d like to see him happy.”
“That’s a good way to begin.”
Epilogue
Cruz
Three Months Later
“Are you ready?” Michael called to me from the other room.
“Just about,” I called back, and shrugged on a lightweight jacket. It was fall, and sometimes, even in South Florida, rainy days like today could bring temperatures in the high sixties. As a lifelong Floridian, that felt a little cool to me.
I came out in the living room to see my big, gorgeous Daddy packing up my bag with juice boxes and fruit snacks. I saw him put in my sippy cup and flushed a little, still easily embarrassed by all of this, though I was getting better. It was a work in progress.
“I miss Fozzy.”
“I know,” he said without turning around. A month earlier, he had surprised me with a new bear that looked a lot like Fozzy, to keep me company while Fozzy was sent to a teddy bear restorer in Atlanta. He had packed up the Fozz carefully and sent him on his way, and the restorer was supposed to be excellent, so I’d had to trust that he was in good hands. Honestly, he’d been falling apart, and his stuffing was coming out, so I didn’t have much choice. I was anxious to see him again and see if they’d been able to fix him. It had really touched me that Michael had thought of it and that he cared enough for my feelings about an old teddy bear to do that for me.
Michael had been full of surprises in the past few weeks. I’d given up my old place and moved into his condo. And I now had chores to do. I wasn’t happy about that, but they did make me feel accomplished after I’d done them, and they were simple things like rinsing the dishes and loading the dishwasher and then unloading it afterward. Or doing laundry for both of us and that meant everything from washing to drying to folding and putting away. It had helped me get a handle on things and not feel so disorganized. I felt like I was contributing.
At first, we took things really slowly. I went back to work, of course, and Michael did too. I told him I wanted to keep my job, and he agreed as long as I came to him if I began to feel overwhelmed. He was busy with his other project in Miami, so we kept our relationship mostly at home or during our weekly trips to the beach house. I knew that he’d been talking a lot with Lawrence, and I’d seen him going up to the Littles Room from time to time. We never talked about it much, but he did say he was learning.
Meanwhile, I was becoming more open about things when I was feeling stressed or pressured at work. I had pulled my special outfits out of the bag and put them in my dresser drawers, and from time to time I’d put them on and relax in front of one of my movies, like Frozen, or Willy Wonka. We had most of the streaming platforms, including the Disney Channel, so I was enjoying working my way through all of them.
I was beginning to find it easier and easier to slip into my space where I could just drift and twist my hair with one hand and suck my thumb with the other. The only fly in the ointment was that Daddy didn’t like the thumb sucking. He said it made the skin of my thumb all pruney and nasty and wasn’t good for my teeth. He’d gotten me a pacifier instead and wanted me to use it if I felt the need. I didn’t want to.
It was a bridge too far.
But then I had to sit through the little talks about how good boys minded their Daddies and didn’t I want to be a good boy? And on and on. Finally, I’d sigh and agree and be rewarded with a cuddle and a kiss on the forehead and an extra fruit snack. Eventually, I used the pacifier some, though I still wasn’t entirely happy about it.
Daddy had lots of rules for me to follow, but none of them were too bad. He liked for me to go to bed after I watched one movie on the nights I was wearing my outfits and for me to get “a good night’s sleep.” I also had to eat three meals a day, and no junk food, non-negotiable. And most nights, Daddy would draw me a bubble bath and lead me into the bathroom. That was heavenly. Afterward, he’d dry me off and put me to bed—always with him. Some nights I was deep in a dreamy kind of space where all I wanted to do was cuddle up beside him or lie half on top of him and go to sleep.
Other times, I was wide awake and ready to make love to my sexy Daddy, who took such good care of me.
