Chapter Four
Zeph
“Okay, you’ve got me here.” I looked around the spot where we sat, a comfortable seating area with couches, chairs, and low tables. “So, now what do I do?”
Will chuckled. “Well, whatever you like. Your guest pass for the evening is all-inclusive.”
Immediately around us were a number of other people, sitting around and eating snacks, having cocktails, and generally socializing. “But as for me, when my Sammy gets back from the changing room, we’ll be going to the little room.”
Did I want to do that? Certainly more than any of the activities currently within my line of vision.
The conversation area lay just off the main club floor where dungeon furniture made up a series of stations.
More like what the average person might expect to find at a kink club, they held spanking benches, a St. Andrew’s cross, and something I thought was called a spiderweb.
In all my research for daddy/little relationships, I’d gone down a lot of rabbit holes on the internet.
Not out of real interest but curiosity. And as I sat there on the sofa, chatting with the daddies from the munches I’d attended, as well as others I’d just met, I learned things.
Like…a lot of the videos I watched that included things like spanking benches were pretty accurate.
Oh, there were style differences, and some of the folks at Chained wore less-extreme outfits, but in general, they spanked with hands, floggers, and other tools, reddening the bottoms of eagerly writhing, groaning, and begging submissives.
The spiderweb currently held a young man wearing only a cloth draped over his jutting cock.
The dom scening with him flicked him with the tongue of a whip that had to be six-feet long.
A dungeon monitor, wearing a fitted black T-shirt stood nearby, keeping passersby from getting too close.
There were several monitors strolling around the floor, but certain stations merited their full attention.
“If someone got too close, they could lose an eye,” Will said. “They have to make special arrangements to even use it.”
“It does look dangerous.” The long lash snapped through the air before kissing the skin of the submissive, and I winced. “I don’t think I’d enjoy that.” At. All.
“Me either, which is why we don’t do that.” Will stood up and straightened the seams of his pants. “Here comes Sammy now.” He chuckled. “When we got here, he wanted to wear just the onesie, but now he’s added the short shorts. We always bring options.”
“Does he usually change himself?”
He shrugged. “No, but sometimes he makes minor adds or deletions on his own, if we’re using the group changing room. He likes to surprise me.”
Sammy arrived in front of us and gave a little spin. “Good, Daddy?”
“Perfect!” He held out a hand and took his little’s. “Want to come with us to the little room?”
“Yes, but I need to go out to the car for a minute. I’ll meet you there.”
“You just cross the main floor and take the hallway at the other side, and you can’t miss it. The giggles give it away.”
I finished my drink and set the glass on the table. “See you in a few minutes.” In truth, I didn’t have any need to go to the car, and I was grateful nobody asked me why. I didn’t have an answer, at least not one that didn’t make me look like a coward.
Before I visited the little room for the first time, I needed a breath of fresh, cool air.
So far, the evening had been going well.
My friends were encouraging without being pushy, and I was excited about seeing the little room, but still nervous.
My tentative forays into caregiving with my ex lurked in the back of my mind, larger than I’d expected.
The submissive at the reception desk waved as I passed.
“Going out to the parking lot. That okay?”
“Sure. Just hold on to your guest pass. But I should be here when you come back.”
“Thanks.” I pushed the heavy door open and stepped out, stopping on the top step for a minute to look out over the lot.
My car was parked toward the back, and with no other real plan but to walk and breathe off the nerves, I headed toward it.
For just a second, I thought how easy it would be to climb behind the wheel and drive home.
But the idea made my stomach twist unpleasantly.
I wanted to be a daddy; no, I believed I was one.
And what daddy would run away from spending a bit of time watching adorable littles play?
No kind. A daddy would march right in there, enjoy what was going on, and maybe even participate if a little approached him to do so.
Will and Bridger both explained that in order for all the littles to feel safe, it was up to them to make the first move.
And, while a daddy was not obligated to agree, they almost always did.
I had made a circuit of the parking lot and was about ready to head back in when something caught my eye. Next to a car, as if it had fallen out the door when someone exited, lay a lunchbox.
Starting to pass it, I paused. If I left it there, someone might walk off with it or, worse, it could easily be run over when all the cars were leaving at the end of the night. Could it belong to a little?
Only one way to find out. I bent over, picked it up, and carried it back inside with me.
The submissive at the desk was speaking with a domme, and I didn’t want to interrupt to ask about the lunchbox, so I carried it with me into the club.
Following Will’s directions, I crossed the floor, feeling out of place among all the black leather and cries of pain and pleasure.
But, somehow, the adorable item gave me courage and kept me moving past spankings and floggings and even a tall, thin dom rolling a ball of fire on a sub’s bare, glistening back.
The dungeon furniture and everything else, including the floors, gleamed.
Clean and cared for. But it wasn’t what I was here for.
Finally reaching the other side of the room, I entered a hallway lined with doors.
Some had windows inviting a peek at what went on inside.
Maybe some other time, I’d take advantage out of general interest, but tonight, I was on a mission to find out whose lunchbox I carried, and I had a good feeling I’d find that person in the little room.
As I continued down the hallway, a couple emerged from one of the doorways, two men tangled in one another’s arms with eyes for nobody but each other.
One man wore the ever-popular black leather, but the other wore nothing but a sleepy smile.
Whatever they had been up to, it was to both their liking.
Before I finished the thought, I found myself in front of a door covered with construction paper. An art project, drawings covered every inch except for the little window. This one I did peek through and what I saw steadied every one of my nerves.
A happy beehive of activity lay beyond the door.
Littles in their cutest clothes playing games, building with blocks, decorating cookies, and gathered around a woman holding the biggest storybook I’d ever seen.
Calm replaced a tension I hadn’t recognized, and I grasped the knob and turned it without another thought.
Inside, the little room was a feast for the senses. The cookies smelled fresh baked, and the frostings lent a sugary air to every breath. Waxy crayons held their own scent, clutched in the fists of littles wearing onesies emblazoned with phrases like Best Boy and Cutest Girlie.
Standing there inside the room, I couldn’t believe I hadn’t come sooner. I never wanted to leave.
“Zeph? What do you have there?”
I turned to face Will. “I found this lunchbox in the parking lot and was afraid someone would drive over it. Any idea whose it might be?”
“Let me see.” He took the box from my hands and opened it. “Oh, it’s got a name inside. I know this boy.”
Mission accomplished.