I’m reeling from our interaction and the way he just kissed me. I love that we’ve moved into this new dynamic where he’s going to kiss me on the mouth periodically. I love it when he kisses me.
“Would you like to color while I cook, Little one?”
“Yes please, Sir.”
He opens a drawer next to the fridge. I already knew he had colored pencils and paper in there, but this time, he pulls out three coloring books and some crayons.
I’m giddy as he hands them to me. “Thank you, Daddy.” I think age play is going to be much more fun with an actual Daddy guiding me. I’ve spent the last six years playing alone. I was sixteen and in high school when I first realized I was Little. I hid that side of myself from my parents as best I could for as long as I could, but when no one was looking, I pulled out my secret stash of supplies and let myself regress in my bedroom.
When I moved to Seattle, I still kept myself mostly closeted. I joined Surrender during my freshman year, but I didn’t go often because I didn’t want anyone to question me about it. The last three years have been blissful as I’ve explored and let myself be authentic in my apartment.
I told myself it didn’t matter that I didn’t have a Daddy. I pretended that I did. I made up every kind of scenario. I even did naughty things to get in trouble, and my pretend Daddy—who was always Camden—would spank me. I had no frame of reference, though. Today is my first full day being his Little girl, and so far, I’m so happy I could squeal.
Daddy sets a sippy cup on the tray next to the picture I’ve chosen. “I have a question.”
I lift my gaze. “What?”
“Why didn’t you ever scene with a Dom at Surrender and let someone spank you? You’ve been curious about this for a long time.”
I shrug as if it’s no big deal and look back down. “They weren’t you.”
His breath hitches, and he doesn’t move from in front of me. Suddenly, he grabs both my pigtails, tucks them behind my head in one hand, and pulls them hard enough that I tip my head way back. His lips are on mine before I can process his intention. This isn’t a tiny peck. He kisses the sense out of me, devouring me.
I’m breathing heavily when he releases me. He’s still holding my hair. He’s panting. “I’ll never get enough kisses from you.”
I swallow.
“Does it bother you for me to kiss you while you’re in Little space?”
“No, Sir.” I haven’t thought about it from that angle. I just know I like it when he kisses me. A lot.
“You’re sure? Some Littles don’t like to mix sexy times with their age play. I’ll understand if you decide you feel that way.”
“I like it when you kiss me, Daddy.”
He smiles. “Okay. Let me know if you change your mind. You’re always allowed to change your mind, Little one.”
“Okay, Daddy.”
“Now, stop looking cute and color me a picture for the fridge while I cook. I can’t focus with you being over here looking cute.”
I giggle.
He gives my hair a tug. His other hand is suddenly on my breast, and before I know it, he’s pinching my nipple again.
“Ouch.”
“Legs, naughty girl.”
I jerk them apart. I hadn’t realized I’d clenched them again. Shoot.
“Those nipples are going to get awfully sore if you can’t keep your legs open.”
I lift a hand, thinking of rubbing my offended bud.
He grabs my wrists. “Were you going to touch yourself, naughty girl?”
My face heats. “No, Sir.”
