Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Shea
I couldn’t believe it. Theo was here. They were standing right in front of me, and I hadn’t even noticed it.
I never imagined that a haircut and a good workout regimen could change a person so much, but the second I saw that tattoo on their ribcage, I wondered how I mistook those eyes for anyone else in the first place.
We walked side by side as Theo led me out of the welcome center.
They pointed out the path that led to the lake, along with the private cabins, one of which was theirs.
Past the playground and an open field sat the main cabins.
I’d been nervous as hell about staying with strangers, but I’d been assured that I wasn’t the only transgender person attending, and that no bullying or hate speech would be tolerated.
Theo had reiterated that point when they were going over the code of conduct with me.
The cabins were all named after cartoon characters, and I was in the Snoopy cabin—with an honorable mention for Woodstock, who sat on top of the refrigerator.
Theo saw me inside, showed me my bed, and even helped me unpack my things.
I momentarily thought that they were reluctant to leave, but that may have been wishful thinking.
After all, it had been nearly a decade since we’d seen each other. A lot can happen in ten years.
Time had been so good to them though. Sunlight streamed in from the windows, playing soft, golden light over them and highlighting all the right places.
Their rosy hair shone, nearly metallic, their brown eyes sparkled.
Now that I recognized them, I couldn’t help but rake my eyes over their body.
They’d toned up—a lot. Muscular arms crossed over their chest—bound, I’d noticed when they’d lifted their shirt.
Strong legs rounded the bed, with thick thighs that could crush my skull.
If I was lucky.
“Shea?”
“Hm?”
“I asked if you needed anything else before I got back to work.”
Oh, right. They weren’t at this camp for fun.
They wore a similar uniform to the other staff—a pastel tie-dyed T-shirt and denim shorts that cut off at the knee.
I really wanted to plead with them to stay, to ask them to be my caregiver for the week.
After all, we were both here unpartnered. That had to mean something, right?
Closing my eyes, I shook my head. “No, I think I’m okay. Thank you, Theo, for everything.”
“There’s no need to thank me, Shea. If you need anything else, my number’s on that sheet.”
I nodded, and they left. I stayed frozen in place long after they’d gone, almost wanting to sprint after them.
But I couldn’t do that. That was way too desperate. Theo helping me clean up after an accident was one thing, but I had no idea if they’d want me back. It had been so long, and neither of us were the same person we’d been back then.
Pushing a hand through my hair, I let out a long breath and gathered another clean set of clothes.
There were three beds in this room, all King-sized with themed bedsheets to match the name of the cabin—Snoopy, Charlie, and one with all the characters.
Bright reds and yellows bounced off the cotton, the classic thick black lines the only contrast against the vibrant colors.
One of the beds sat empty, and the other looked to have been claimed already.
A sippy cup sat on one side, and some medication.
There were two doors: one on the far wall of the cabin, and one on the right-hand wall.
They both stood open, letting me see inside each space.
I poked my head into the one on my right, finding a full changing-slash-feeding room, with a change table and a recliner, along with a mini fridge, all in soothing pastel colors with soft white walls.
With my clothes and my towel, I moved for the other door—the bathroom. A row of sinks sat to my left, opposite a handful of toilet stalls. There were showers to my right, and a large bathtub clearly designed for two. There was also a changing table there, along with storage underneath.
I shoved away all thoughts of Theo giving me a bath and sat my things on the bench outside the showers.
With the heat outside, I kept the water cool, letting it bring me back down to earth as it sluiced over my body.
My hands followed the path, body tingling with the memory of Theo cleaning me.
My chest lurched so violently that I nearly felt sick. Tears sprang to my eyes.
Fuck, I’d missed them so much. The memory of our last night was so vivid in my mind that I could practically taste their coconut lip balm. I hated coconut but on them? It was intoxicating. It was like it mixed with their natural taste to create a new flavor that was so uniquely… “Theo…”.
I was my parents’ golden child. The youngest, and the only girl—the perfect, blonde-haired and blue-eyed southern belle that they’d always wanted.
For as long as I could remember, my life had been a series of the most feminine things possible: dance, etiquette classes, and even pageants.
But some of my earliest memories had been fighting against everything deemed refined and modest. I didn’t want to wear the tight leotards and the frilly dresses.
I didn’t want to know which fork was for salad and which spoon was for tea—I didn’t even like hot tea.
The only thing I wanted to do was be allowed to roll around in the mud like my brothers. I craved the coverage of jeans, instead of feeling too exposed in a dress. Washing and styling my hair became too much to handle, the stress of it often leading me into a mental breakdown.
Then I met Theo, and nothing else mattered anymore. Even pre-transition they presented more masculine, and happily began letting me borrow clothes out of my parents’ eyesight. I fell—hard, and it had only taken one instance of their hand in my pants for me to grow sloppy, and we got caught.
Moving had been beyond my control. Despite being sixteen and so close to graduation, my parents ripped me away.
My entire life, my friends, my school, my job—Theo—had been in Georgia.
But in my parents’ eyes, I was headed down a dark path.
One filled with sin, and they just couldn’t have that in their perfect daughter.
I fought the move tooth and nail, even threatening to run away—more than once. They retaliated.
Big time.
Shaking those particular memories away, I turned off the shower and blindly snatched for my towel to dry off and get dressed.
With a sigh, I stared at my boxer briefs.
Everything said not to bring diapers or training pants—it was easier to keep things private if the camp provided them.
I eyed the changing table in the corner, knowing that no one would bat an eye if I was padded, but if I wet…
I cleared the thoughts from my head and stepped into my underwear.
Wet pants were never a good feeling, not for me anyway.
It was only made worse when I was wet and Little, without the brain bandwidth to change myself.
That was a caregiver’s job, and I’d never had one of those.
At least, not one that stayed around longer than a single scene.
I tugged on a pair of thin linen shorts and a T-shirt, scrubbing my hair dry as I left the bathroom.
“Hi!”
“Oh, fuck!” My heart leapt into my throat and I whirled toward the noise, my towel falling to the floor.
A person stood there, and he was precious, with dark ringlet curls and bright brown eyes that watched me with curiosity.
I rushed to apologize. “I’m sorry. I didn’t realize anyone else was here. ”
“That’s okay. I didn’t mean to scare you,” he laughed, approaching me with his hand extended. “I’m Tyler. I just checked in.”
“Shea.” I slipped my hand into his. It was warm and soft. “Are you here with anyone?”
Tyler shook his head, bouncy curls bobbing around his face. “No. I’m sort of hoping to meet someone more long term here. You?”
“Same. I’m a Little.” The words came out hushed, like I was afraid the walls would tell on me.
Tyler’s smile only brightened, dimples popping in both cheeks. “Me too.” Then he blushed, and seemed almost as bashful as I was. “I’m… also a full time Little. I’m usually diapered more often than not but if it makes you uncomfortable—”
“It’s fine. Honestly, I admire your confidence. I… haven’t quite gotten there myself.”
With a grateful smile, Tyler shrugged. “You will if that’s something you want. I’m heading to the dining hall for the welcome meeting. Did you want to walk with me?”
“That’d be great.” The tension in my chest released, and I bent to retrieve my towel from the floor and return it to the bathroom.
As I returned to the main area of the cabin, my heart thundered in my chest. Tyler had been fully transparent with me, and it only seemed right to do the same with him.
After all, he would realize that I may not be like him the second he saw me with my shirt off, whether that be at the lake or in the showers.
But I hadn’t had much practice in disclosing my gender.
I hadn’t had any, really. Sophie had been the first person to ask me my name and pronouns, so I took my chance.
And Theo… Theo just knew. Even before I was out, Theo knew that my deadname and old pronouns were just for show.
Tyler held the screen door open for me, and I took a deep breath as we descended the stairs. “Since you were so honest with me, I’m...” The words stuck in my throat. Tyler waited expectantly, but patiently. I picked at my fingers. “I’m trans.”
“Okay.”
The single word shocked me so much that my feet faltered mid-step. “That’s it?”
“I mean, did you want me to have more of a reaction? It doesn’t bother me.”
I let out a sigh of relief. “I don’t come from the best background. I’m not used to people just… accepting it.”
Tyler’s hand found my shoulder, squeezing gently. “You’re in a different place now, Shea. Not accepting it won’t fly here.”
My stomach flipped. Emotion clogged my throat. “Thanks.”
Tyler took charge from there, babbling all the way to the dining hall.
He was twenty-five—same age as me. He’d worked at the bakery since he was a teenager, working his way up to taking over the place.
That turned into the science behind baking, and I found myself utterly fascinated.
I hadn’t realized that something as simple as a cinnamon bun was so… technical.
Tyler led me to a seat near the middle of the dining hall.
People of all ages and genders filled the place, a low hum of conversation echoing through the building.
I scanned the room, finding Theo near the front.
They leaned against a support beam, arms crossed over their chest and having a conversation with another one of the staff.
The guy was tall and broad, with messy red hair and a well-kept beard.
Tyler’s words trailed off, and he followed my line of sight. “Hello, Daddy.” When I snickered, he added, “You weren’t staring at the redhead, were you?”
As if Theo could sense me staring, they turned their head and our eyes met.
Even across the room, they shone in the afternoon light.
The corner of their mouth curled into an easy grin, and they held my gaze as they continued their conversation.
“No,” I murmured in response to Tyler’s question. “I wasn’t.”
“Good, because he’s totally my type. And it looks like Theo is yours.”
That caught my attention. “You know them?”
“Yeah, most people do. They’re—”
The redhead interrupted Tyler’s thought by animatedly leaping onto one of the tables.
“Alright, listen up everyone! I know you’re all eager to explore and get to know each other, so I’ll keep this brief.
My name’s Jordan, my pronouns are he/him, and I’m one of the staff here.
Our wonderful organizer is a bit stage-frightened, so I’ll be the voice of reason.
” A quiet voice called him a bastard, and everyone laughed.
“I know you’ve all read all the paperwork—hopefully—so I won’t harp about the little things.
The most important thing is consent. In some ways, your attendance here does count as consent—you will see other campers existing in a kink setting, because that’s exactly where you are, but the degree of participation and involvement in that kink is entirely up to you.
Everyone is encouraged to use safewords and make them known.
Check in with each other—your roommates, anyone you’re in an activity with.
If you’re unsure of a safeword at any point, the camp will operate on a traffic light system.
For the nonverbal peeps in attendance, all staff members carry a traffic light card on their lanyard.
‘Red’ means red. It means stop. It doesn’t mean try and convince the person, it doesn’t mean try again in five minutes—leave them alone.
If anyone challenges a safeword, staff will intervene and it could result in you being removed from the camp. Have I made myself clear?”
A low murmur of agreement rippled through the room, and Jordan went into the code of conduct, allergy routines—thankfully not naming anyone; I’d never be able to handle that.
He even ran through a demo of how to use an EpiPen and said there would be staff making their rounds before bed to do the same.
When his words blurred into a mass of activities, I zoned out.
The itinerary had been set for months, and I’d already picked which activities I wanted to do.
Most of them centered around the lake, keeping me as close to the water as possible.
I came back to the conversation in time to hear Jordan rush out his last words.
“… I’m going to turn the tables over to our wonderful organizer, the owner of Playhouse and the mastermind behind this summer camp. I know they have stage fright but I don’t care. Theo Brealey!”
I choked on my own spit, and Tyler smacked me on the back. “Are you okay?”
I swallowed the feeling down, wiping tears from my eyes. “Theo’s the owner?”
“Yeah, you didn’t know that?”
I shook my head as Theo began to speak. “No, I didn’t.”