Prologue
Simone
* * *
“Do you think Mr. Hoffman is ever going to let you leave the house again?” I joke as Natasha and I settle in on the couch in her den to watch a movie.
Natasha shrugs, but she’s got this permanent grin on her face that tells me she doesn’t care.
“I was certain he would buy you a car for graduation last week.”
“He bought me a sailboat instead.”
Of course he did. Jameson Hoffman doesn’t do anything half-assed.
I laugh. I’ve heard about the sailboat. “That’s not very practical for transportation around Seattle.”
“I have Albert. He drives me anywhere I need to go,” she defends. Albert works for Mr. Hoffman—Natasha’s Daddy—and he’s a gem. I love that man. His wife, Edith, too. They’re in their late fifties and run this household. Edith is the best cook ever. I never pass up an opportunity to come here for a meal.
I lean back in the corner of the comfy sofa and set the back of my hand against my forehead in a dramatic swoon. I follow that with a loud sigh. “I need a driver. What a life.”
“Maybe you should come over for dinner on a night when Professor Arnalt is going to be here. Now that you’re no longer in his class maybe he’ll be more receptive to your flirting.”
I roll my eyes. “Seems like a dead end. I should let my silly infatuation go and move on with my life.”
Natasha shrugs. “I wish I could tell you one way or the other. Daddy is tight-lipped about Professor Arnalt. I’m not sure if he doesn’t know anything or if he just won’t tell me. I suspect the latter.”
“It’s all good. Time for me to get a real job and become an adult.” I wince. What a horribly boring idea. I don’t technically have to work. I have a sizable trust fund. But I’m kind of flailing around with nothing to do. I need to…adult. Sigh.
Natasha reaches over and squeezes my hand, nearly spilling our giant bowl of popcorn in the process. She’s a great friend. I’m so lucky to have her. No matter what happens, when I’m with her, I’m always able to let my Little out.
Any thoughts I’ve ever entertained about submitting to my favorite professor were far-fetched. Thinking about him as my Daddy was fun, but that’s all it ever was. My imagination running away with me.
I spent the last four years flirting mercilessly with the man. I never seriously expected him to return the affection since he was my very rule-following, buttoned-up teacher, but I also don’t think he ever had any interest in me. He certainly didn’t show any.
It was always a pipe dream. The man is almost twice my age. What would he see in me? I’m twenty-two. He’s forty-two. I only know his exact age because he’s the same age as Mr. Hoffman, and the two of them grew up together.
I also know Professor Arnalt lives in the same gated neighborhood as Mr. Hoffman, but I have no idea which home is his. These houses are more like mansions. Most of them are old.
I sigh yet again. If Professor Arnalt had been interested in me, he would have made a move by now. It’s been a week since Natasha and I graduated. I had marginal hopes seven days ago, but now, I’m realizing my thoughts were ridiculous.
It’s not like he cornered me after the graduation ceremony, pinned me to the side of the English building, and kissed the sense out of me. I certainly daydreamed about such a scene for the past year. It wasn’t logical or practical, but I enjoyed the fodder it offered for my orgasms.
I’m on my fourth vibrator in two years, and I don’t skimp on those things. I like a nice, strong one that will get the job done.
I’ve known Natasha for four years. We met in freshman English, and we were both English majors. We weren’t super close friends until the last semester, though. Not until I began to realize she was also Little.
I’ve known I’m Little since I was about sixteen. I didn’t even know what my feelings meant for a long time. I certainly wasn’t going to tell anyone about my kinky thoughts—especially not my prudish parents. Luckily, I had the internet, and I was able to research what I was experiencing.
By the time I was eighteen, I felt far more confident and less alone about my fetish. But it didn’t change the fact that I didn’t know a single other person who was Little, so I remained closeted in high school. It wasn’t until I moved to Seattle for college that I joined Surrender—one of the local kink clubs—and began to let my Little blossom.
When Natasha moved in with Mr. Hoffman for her last semester of school, I noticed she started exhibiting signs of being Little. I’m so glad I approached her and our friendship deepened because now she’s my most important confidant.
Natasha is the only person who knows how long I’ve pined for Professor Arnalt. Well, that’s not entirely true. Professor Arnalt has always known because he’s astute—and I’ve spent four years antagonizing him. Plus, Natasha doesn’t keep any secrets from her Daddy, and Mr. Hoffman is best friends with Professor Arnalt. So…yeah. None of my desires are really a secret from anyone in that small circle.
The thing is that I’ve never had a single personal confrontation about my desires with Professor Arnalt. I have to believe my feelings are not reciprocated. It was fun tormenting him, but I need to move on. I’m looking for an internship with a publishing house. I need to get a big-girl job, tuck my Little back in the closet, and start my adult life.
I go to Surrender sometimes on weekends, but both Professor Arnalt and Mr. Hoffman are also members, so it’s been a juggling act avoiding one another at the club.
