Chapter 25
“Kneel, little girl.”
That’s a command I’m always happy to hear. I don’t expect it in the hallway outside the bathroom but when Daddy says kneel, I kneel.
I tuck my hands behind my back and look up at him expectantly.
“Why have I asked you to kneel, baby?” Daddy asks, looking down at me.
He’s dressed up for the Nursery’s Opening. Looking hot in his Mad Hatter costume from our collaring weekend in Niagara Falls. I should be dressed, too but I’m running a little behind. I glittered my outfit for tonight during the Littles’ Army “art attack” playdate. But then Sammi got the idea that he needed to wear my tutu around his neck and recite Shakespeare—not very accurately—and in the ensuing tug-o-war over my tutu, some of the glitter fell off. I’ve been doing last-minute repairs. Can’t have uneven amounts of glitter. It’s a rule.
“You’re checking in with me because I’m running late?” I suggest.
“Yes, that’s one reason. How much longer until you’re ready?”
I make some fast calculations about the drying speed of glitter. “Ten minutes.”
“Good girl, that’s fine. That’s not the only reason. What else?”
I smile hopefully. “Because I’m getting orgasms again tonight?”
I’ve been on orgasm denial, along with Cappa and a bunch of other unfortunate subbies, for two days. Which sucks. But I have to admit it hasn’t been too awful this time. Daddy’s mostly used my throat and only edged me during the day. I haven’t had to go to bed needy and angry. I’ve been on low simmer but I haven’t been as hatefully desperate as I’ve been in the past.
“Yes, you’re getting orgasms again. But tell me about guilt.”
“Gilt as in gold glitter?”
Daddy chuckles. “No, my little glitter bomb. Guilt as in feeling bad about something that’s not your fault.”
“Oh, guilt with a ‘u’.”
“Yes, baby, guilt with a ‘u’.”
“Guilt with a ‘u’ isn’t something I need to feel. My Daddy’s told me that, and my Daddy tells me the truth. I can only control myself. If I’ve failed to control myself and something bad’s happened, then I should feel remorseful, apologize, and try to fix the situation but I don’t need to feel guilty.”
Daddy strokes my head with his warm palm. “That’s right. Tonight is a big night for us, isn’t it? We’ve both worked hard to get the Nursery open. There’s a lot going on. You may hear some of it tonight. But you do not need to feel guilty about it, or for enjoying yourself. If you have any worries about what’s happening at Blunts, or with True, or with Livvy, I want you to put those aside and focus on enjoying yourself tonight.”
“Yes, Daddy.”
“Stand, baby.”
I rise, focusing on moving smoothly. Daddy hugs me when I reach my feet; I go up on my tip-toes to kiss his chin.
“Daddy, you don’t feel any guilt tonight, either, okay?”
“I’ve already given myself a pep talk, sweetheart. I think I can stay focused on the Opening.”
Daddy has been super-distracted since he and Master Mac met with Annabelle. Daddy didn’t tell me everything she said but I understand Master Emmett hurt her and not in a good way. I don’t know Emmett beyond passing him in the hallway but I thought all the masters at Blunts were good Doms, safe Doms. It hurts my heart to know that some of them aren’t.
Daddy’s been so sucked into what’s going on with the Blunts house subs that he left dealing with True almost entirely to Theo, Maude, and Brenna. Which isn’t like Daddy at all. Not saying Daddy likes to micromanage but ...
After our trip to the museum, Theo, Maude, and Brenna got True placed for ninety days with Mac’s friend. True, whose real name is Ellen but we’ve all kept calling her True at her request, can finish the school year via distance learning. Her new foster mother works in the City, so she’s been dropping True off at our house on her way in to work every day and picking her up on the way home. True studies in the mornings while I write. In the afternoons, there’s been a parade of house subbies coming to spend time with her: Cappa, Fleur, Charlotte, Justine, Austin, Hunter, Allyn, Moon, Shannie, and Lucy. They’ve been talking with True about their own submissive journeys and how they wish they’d been able to explore submission safely in their teens. I’ve been moved to tears a few times listening to the subbies talk about their experiences. None of them had a really safe introduction into submission. No more than I did.
I haven’t shared my own journey with True yet but I plan to when she’s had more time to process. The way she looks at Daddy and Mac tells me she’s still struggling to separate her desire for dominance from her crush on the two Doms who “saved” her.
Tonight, True’s going to see a different kind of family. Daddy’s partner Manny has offered to babysit Livvy overnight while we’re at the club for the Nursery’s Grand Opening. True and Livvy are coming with us in the limo to Blunts, then Manny’s going to pick up his cousin who is a police officer and head home. They’re going to feed True dinner and True’s going to babysit until her curfew under their supervision. Once True has some experience, she’s going to take a babysitting certification course, then she can start earning her own income.
That’s only one of the subbie plans for True but I think it’s a good one. True needs to be around healthy, loving families so she can see that her experiences with a neglectful family and abuse in foster care aren’t the way families are supposed to be.
“How are you feeling about being apart from Livvy for the night, baby doll?” Daddy asks.
“Okay. Jen’s a stickler for bedtimes so I’m sure she’ll follow Gracie’s schedule. I just hope Livvy’s good for her and True.”
Daddy leans in and kisses my forehead. “Livvy’s behavior one way or another is not a reflection on you as a parent?—”
“Babysitter,” I say quickly.
“Uh-huh, babysitter. Best little babysitter in the world.” He gives me another soft, warm kiss. Daddy’s forehead kisses make me swoony. I clutch at the lapels of his purple and red-checked jacket. “Hurry up, my glitter bunny, and let’s go have some fun.”
“Okay, Daddy!”
He swats my bottom and I hop off to the bathroom like a good little glitter bunny.
I’ve already showered and done my hair so I’m just swiping on a little mascara because Daddy likes tear tracks and cleaning myself out in case Daddy wants my bottom tonight. I spend a moment looking in the mirror, admiring the nubby paddle marks on my ass from our session with Belial this morning. I know it’s crazy but seeing Daddy’s marks makes me crazy happy. I love being owned by him; I love wearing the proof on my body. Listening to the subbies talking to True, I realize I’m not in the minority, even though not all of the house submissives are masochists. Most of them like seeing marks after a scene. They’re not just a reminder of a good scene but they help carry that submissive headspace into the rest of our lives. Daddy lets me live my best little life but not all submissives can be submissive all the time. Not all of them want to, of course but even the ones who do like Bren and Fleur struggle to pull their submission into their jobs and lives outside their relationships with their Doms.
As I brush my teeth and do quick gag reflex training, I let gratitude for how Daddy’s reshaped his world around me fill up my soul. It hasn’t been easy for either of us. I didn’t realize until my confrontation with Miranda that I would struggle with it, too. But as I look at myself in the mirror, seeing the healthy glow of my skin, the light in my eyes, that weren’t there even six months ago when I was on my own, I see not the struggle but how far we’ve come. I look at the beautiful platinum collar glinting around my throat and, despite everything that’s going on around us, I feel at peace.
Ablutions completed, I bounce out of the bathroom, pull on my glitter-edged tutu, white thigh-highs, black garters, and a criminally short, black-and-blue checked pinafore over a sheer black shirt with thumb holes that I adore. There’s no point in a bra tonight and the shirt’s mesh chafes my nipples deliciously with every breath. I’m going to be a puddle by the time we get to the club.
When Cynnie and I found what she calls my “pastel goth Alice” outfit, we thrifted a blue velvet top hat to go with it. I glittered a veil to go on it but I’m feeling too little for a hat tonight. Instead, I pull back my curls with a blue bow, slide my feet into black platform Mary Janes, and run downstairs to meet Daddy.
He blinks rapidly when he sees me, grins, and holds out his arms.
“Hello, Alice,” he growls. “You’re going to get a taste of my biggest hat tonight.”
I giggle. “You’re bad, Daddy.”
“I am. You in those thigh highs gets my motor revving, always. I love this outfit.” He slips a hand under the bib of my pinafore and tweaks a nipple. “Easy access. Brilliant.”
I wriggle happily and hold my arms out so he can help me into my winter coat. Manny’s ferrying us to Blunts, so I could go without but when I’m wearing a play costume, I feel safer either changing at the club or wearing a coat over top. I’m getting more and more comfortable wearing little clothes out, even when I’m not with Daddy but costumes are different. Even if they’re not as revealing as what women wear to nightclubs, the littleness of them could attract very bad attention.
The world still isn’t safe for my otherness. It won’t ever be. That sense of safety, of Daddy creating a world that’s as safe for me as possible, fills me up again. When he leads me out to Manny’s limo, I look up at him with all the love and gratitude in my heart.
He buckles my seatbelt and cups my face in his hands. “What’s that look for, naughty Alice?”
“You’re the best daddy for me in the whole universe and I’m very grateful for you.”
Logan clears his throat and snaps his own seatbelt as Bren, Cappa, and Fleur climb in and take their seats. True’s the second-to-last in, carrying Olivia in her car seat, followed by Master Mac. There are a lot of hands to help True strap the car seat in; I stay hands-off to let True earn her babysitting stripes. Once everyone’s got their seatbelts on, Daddy signals to Manny that we’re ready. The limo pulls smoothly into the early evening traffic.
Daddy leans in, his breath warm against my ear. “You’re making me emotional, little girl. What’s this all about?”
I wiggle in my seat until I’m cuddled close to his side. “When I was getting dressed, I looked at myself in the mirror and saw how different I look from when I lived in Syracuse. I always had dark circles under my eyes because I didn’t have a consistent sleep schedule. My skin was pale and dry because I didn’t get enough sunlight or drink as much water as I should. I had happy moments. I had good friends and I’ve always loved to write. But I wasn’t crazy happy. I wasn’t so happy I thought I’d explode. Not the way I am now.”
“You’re always beautiful to me, sweetheart,” Daddy says. “But you do look very healthy. And hearing that you’re crazy happy makes me crazy happy, too.”
“Even with everything going on?” I ask.
“Especially with everything going on. You’re my whole world, Emmy. If you’re crazy happy even with all the messiness of my life spilling into yours, then everything I’ve had to do to control that mess is worthwhile.”
I tip my head onto his shoulder and smile dreamily out the window at the denim-blue twilight.
The outside of Blunts looks the same as always: staid and nondescript. But once we’re through the security doors, everything changes.
The main hallway is full of people. There are house submissives posed in every display nook along the paneled walls, bare skin gleaming in the club’s warm lights. Red banners hang from the hallway’s high ceiling, proclaiming “Blunts’ Nursery Grand Opening.” Beneath the banners, wait staff from the Trattoria circulate with silver trays loaded with juice boxes and finger foods. I didn’t have any hand in this—my decoration for the Grand Opening was confined to the Nursery itself—so the food on the trays isn’t all healthy but it’s a little’s delight. Chicken nuggies in animal shapes. Veggie flowers. Skewers of watermelon, pineapple, and mango. Popcorn balls. Fancifully decorated mini-cupcakes. It makes me teary to see the thought someone’s put into this.
Lots of our friends from playgroup and the Elephant’s Playground are already present, mingling, admiring the displayed submissives, talking in excited tones. The theme for the Opening is nursery rhymes and people have really gotten into it. Sammi is wearing nothing but a blue coat with gold buttons, bunny ears, and a huge, cotton-ball butt plug. He’s trailing so much gold and white glitter he looks like he’s in the middle of a dust storm. There are several Dumbos, a three-person caterpillar trailing a butterfly whose huge wings light up, and a Humpty Dumpty in nothing but white latex. Mistress Dana, in bright blue leathers and wielding a terrifyingly spiked shepherd’s crook, herds Austin, Mally, and Zuki, all wearing white, glittered wigs and matching G-strings. I see Maude leading Georgie in his full fursuit by a golden collar and leash. Master Chess is deep in conversation with Claudia, the chairwoman of the Playground, who is in her foxsuit. Tessa kneels at Chess’s feet in her puppy leathers, yipping for attention until he ruffles her hair. Moon and Allyn prance by in their pony tack and boots.
I clap my hands, spinning around in delight. When I cuddle against my grinning Daddy, I find Bren and Fleur looking at me with huge smiles.
I gesture to the banners. “Did you do this?”
Bren and Fleur crowd in for hugs. Fleur kisses my cheek. “Welcome to the Blunts family,” she whispers to me. “We’re a noisy family with a lot of strong personalities who won’t ever agree about everything but no one loves harder than the people in this club.”
I squeeze her. “Thank you.”
While I’m in mid-huggle, Chess walks over to Daddy. He hands Daddy an oversized pair of silver scissors. “Do the honors, Master Logan,” Chess says.
Daddy claps Chess on the shoulder and takes the scissors. He catches my wrist and draws me after him as he walks down the hallway to the huge stairs leading to the upper floors of the club. There’s another red banner stretched across the stairs.
Daddy stops next to the banner. He opens the scissors and offers one handle to me. Grinning, I take the handle. Daddy positions the scissor blades between the words “Nursery” and “Grand.”
He looks over his shoulder at the crowd. “Welcome, everyone. It’s my very great pleasure to open the Blunts Nursery.”
To cheers from the crowd, Daddy nods at me. I push my handle toward his and the big blades slice through the banner. The two halves flutter down to the stairs like falling leaves.
Daddy draws me to one side as people begin trooping up the stairs. Cynnie, in her black and yellow striped onesie with a fully glittered crown between her antennae, stops for a hug before Max leads her upstairs. Matty and Yummy run up, trailing glitter from their dragon costumes, followed by their daddies and Master Javier. Queen Twitch winks at me as they stalk past on white platform heels that must put them close to seven feet, holding up the skirts of a fully-feathered white swan costume. Master Harold walks in Queen Twitch’s wake, holding the hand of someone in a blow-up, orange T-Rex costume.
I give Daddy the owl eye. He chuckles. “Pence must have earned himself another punishment.”
“How can you punish someone in a blow-up dinosaur costume, Daddy?”
“Oh, Harry managed last time. Hands and feet aren’t covered by the costume; Harry made full use of them.”
I wince sympathetically.
Daddy leers at me. “I haven’t punished those tender little toes in some time.”
“Because my feet haven’t done anything wrong,” I point out.
“Incorrect. Those little ice cubes find my warm, unsuspecting calves unerringly in the night.”
I screw my face up at him. “I can’t be punished for things I do in my sleep.”
“That’s where we disagree, little girl.” Daddy laughs. “Jiro and Laurel should be here within the hour and I think, in honor of their visit, we could have a Tickle Tondo Two.”
I squint at him. The first Tickle Tondo was ridiculously fun but I did almost pee myself from laughing so hard. “I thought we were dancing tonight after the hunt? I can’t dance on tickled toes.”
“Is that a challenge, little girl? I bet I can get you to dance.” He tugs the brim of his top hat down rakishly. “No one can resist the Hatter.”
It’s true I can’t resist Daddy, particularly when he’s playful.
When most of the crowd has made its way upstairs, Daddy holds his hand out to me. “Ready, little girl?”
“Ready, Daddy.”
We join the stragglers making their way upstairs. Ahead of us, Master Theo is helping a woman dressed up as a fairytale princess, with full hoop skirts that she’s struggling to manage on the stairs. Once he helps her get the hoop under control, he continues holding her hand as they walk up together. Under the princess’ gauzy pink veil and conical hat, I recognize the brown curls of Amy from playgroup.
I squeeze Daddy’s hand and tip my chin at the pair when he glances at me. He follows my gesture; a sly smile lights his face.
“Is the Little Matchmaking Bureau about to spring into action, baby?” he asks.
“Could be, Daddy. I think there’s some potential there.”
“Me, too. I remember the first time Theo met you. Do you remember?”
I nod. I was recovering from the wooden-pony punishment. Master Theo read to me. He held Peter Aloha Bunny. He shared his dessert with me. I actually liked him until I found out how horrible he’d been to Daddy later that night.
“He was entranced by you,” Daddy says quietly, so the couple a few steps ahead of us doesn’t hear. “I was the tiniest bit jealous.”
“You weren’t, were you?” I ask, tugging on his hand. I don’t want Daddy to be jealous. I want him always to be as secure in my love as he’s made me in his.
He holds up his free hand with his thumb and first finger almost touching. “Tiniest bit. But I realized he was responding to your littleness. It is entrancing. I can’t blame anyone for falling for it.”
“But Amy’s not a masochist,” I point out. That’s probably a bigger issue than her littleness.
“He’s an experienced Dom. If there’s chemistry and he wants to be a caregiver, he might find that satisfies his needs. As much as I get off when you suffer for me, baby doll, caring for you fills an even deeper set of needs. I’m glad you’re a masochist; I wouldn’t change a thing about the way we play. But if you weren’t, I’d still have pursued a relationship with you. I need your joy in my life more than I need your pain.”
I lean into him and he slides his arm around my shoulders. “I didn’t know that, Daddy.”
“Do you really think I wouldn’t shape myself to be whatever you need?”
I nod, rubbing my cheek against his shoulder blissfully. “Yes, because you’re the Dom I deserve. You’re my Batman Daddy.”
He lets out a bark of laughter. “You called me that before and I didn’t realize what you were saying. Is that what the Batman stickers are in your journal? Are those me?”
“Uh-huh. You’ve always been my Dark Knight, right from the beginning.”
“Doesn’t Batman get defeated? He’s not like Superman.”
“He does. He gets knocked down a lot. He’s flawed and compromised and he makes mistakes. And he’s a bazillion times better than Superman. Superman’s perfect; he can do anything. Batman can’t. Batman works hard for every victory, small or large. Batman gets back up, no matter how hard he’s knocked down. That’s my Daddy.”
Daddy pulls me to the side of the staircase again and drags me up into his arms so we’re nose-to-nose, my feet dangling.
“You’re making me emotional again, my little wonder.”
“Sorry, Daddy.”
He rubs noses with me. “Never, ever apologize for telling me your feelings. I love you so much, little girl, and I will strive every day to be your Batman Daddy.”
I wrap one arm around his neck and cup his cheek with the other, blinking mistily as I look into his deep, dark eyes. “You already are.”
My Batman Daddy carries me the rest of the way up the stairs.