by Frost, E J
“We thought we’d make a long weekend of it,” she says, releasing me to kiss Daddy on both cheeks. We did just see her last weekend at the club, but it’s always nice to feel missed. Master Javier swoops me up next, giving me a hug that fills my lungs with the scent of fresh linen and tobacco, before he hands me off into Austin’s bear hug.
“There they are!” I hear from the lounge before I’m rushed by my purple-haired friend Aggie. Aggie’s wearing purple coveralls and sparkly purple Keds that match her hair. She looks so cute that I want to go and change into something little, even though the shirt and capris I’m wearing were cool and comfortable for our walk.
I get another big hug, this time from Aggie’s daddy, Warrin, before my daddy reels me in and tucks me against his side while he talks to Javier and Niall. Warrin gets drawn into the conversation, too, and I gather they’re setting the ground rules for the arm-wrestling contest after dinner. Men are so silly. I catch Vashi’s eyes and roll mine. She giggles.
Daddy pinches my ear.
“Ow!”
He tips his head to growl, “I saw that, cheeky monkey. Just because you’re around your subbie friends, don’t think you can get away with being disrespectful.”
“No, Daddy, super-respectful, me.”
“Uh-huh. Just remember you have your usual date with my paddle in the morning. It can be a wolfy date, or it can be a fire salamander date. Depends on the level of cheek today.”
I shiver and wiggle a little closer to him. “Wolfy date.”
Fire salamander dates with Daddy’s evil paddle leave me sore all day. Wolfy dates only leave me sore for most of the day, and I get orgasms. Although realizing that, whether or not I behave, I won’t be getting orgasms during my Saturday paddling makes me frown.
Warrin reaches over and pinches my cheek. What’s with all the daddy pinches? “No frowns on your big weekend, Em.”
“Sorry, sir.” I smile as I snuggle back into Daddy’s side.
“Maybe Emmy has things to frown about,” Aggie says to her daddy. She waves her hands over her groin. “Maybe this is a no O zone, like you did to me before I was collared.”
Vashi and I break into giggles that ring over the deeper tones of the Doms’ laughter.
“No O zone?” Warrin asks his little while he’s still chuckling.
She nods. “The five looongest days of my life, baba.”
Warrin chucks her under her chin. “We’ll double it for our fifth anniversary in May, then?”
Aggie’s eyes widen until I can see the whites all around the brown iris. “Baba.”
There’s another round of laughter from the Doms but no giggles as Vashi and I look at Aggie with utmost sympathy.
“See how easy you have it, little girl?” Daddy murmurs to me.
I nod fervently and go up on my toes to whisper in his year, “Vashi said Master Niall made Shaan go for a whole month without. Twice!”
“Mm-hmm, he mentioned that to me, too. I think maybe I’m taking it too easy on you.”
“No way, Daddy!”
He chuckles and squeezes me. “You need anything from our room before we head out for lunch, sweetie?”
“Could I change?” I glance at Aggie’s outfit again. I’m not jealous. Much. I’d just like to feel little and I’m with Daddy so it’s safe.
“Of course. Laurel will be here any minute. Are you going to wear your dragon shirt for her?”
I have a dragon outfit with me so Laurel and I can be scaly together, but seeing Aggie, that’s not what my heart wants right now. “It’s my weekend, right?”
“It is, sweetie. Wear whatever you want.”
I nuzzle up to kiss his cheek. “Ta, Daddy. Should I go up and change now?”
“Yes, and good girl for asking. How long d’you think you’ll be?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Okay, baby doll. I’ll be up in five.” He gives me a swat on the behind and I scoot away from him to avoid a second swat, since my bottom’s still a little sore. As I head towards the stairs, I grab Vashi’s hand. With a bow to her Dom, she lets me drag her away.
“I need fashion assistance,” I tell her.
“It would be my pleasure.”
She follows me readily up the stairs. When I get to our suite, I prop the door open so Master Niall or Shaan can come in for their subbie if they want. I haven’t really unpacked much, since we’re not staying all that long. But I’ve hung up anything that will wrinkle, and I take three outfits out of the closet and lay them on the bed, then root in my luggage for two more.
While I’m rooting, there’s a knock on the door. Aggie peers into the room and smiles hesitantly when she meets my eyes. “Can I join you?”
“Of course! I need fashion assistance,” I say, waving at the outfits on the bed.
“The testosterone was getting too thick for me downstairs.” She comes to stand at the end of the bed with Vashi and shyly introduces herself.
I smack myself on the forehead. “I’m so sorry. I’m being a terrible hostess.”
Vashi and Aggie giggle and shake hands.
I pull the other two outfits out of my bag and lay them on the bed. Vashi and Aggie mirror each other, heads tipped to the side, as they inspect my wardrobe choices. When they don’t say anything for a long minute, I pull out my favorite sandals and put them at the bottom of the bed. “I have these which go—”
Vashi and Aggie both point to the same outfit.
“It’s your collaring, Emmy. You deserve to be a princess,” Aggie says.
“A fairy princess,” Vashi says. “And when I do your henna tomorrow, a fairy queen.”
“Really?” She didn’t mention doing henna for me, but she knows how much I admire hers. “Okay.”
The outfit they’ve picked is what was calling to me anyway, but I thought it might be too much. But it is my weekend, and we don’t have any more strenuous, or wet, walks planned, so it shouldn’t get ruined. I pull off my shirt and step out of my capris before I start pulling the black and purple striped thigh-highs up my legs. I’m not worried about the open door. Everyone here except Martyn’s seen me naked and if he’s going to act as dungeon monitor tonight, he will soon enough, too.
Vashi and Aggie help me into the filmy dress. Aggie laces up the back while Vashi does the ribbons at the throat, which almost make up for the chain Daddy took this morning, and the detached, three-quarter sleeves. Vashi hands Aggie the little cape that falls like a pair of fluttery, purple wings and she laces it into the back of the dress. There’s a pert, brimmed hat that goes with the outfit but that does seem like too much. I glance at it, but before I even have time to shake my head, Vashi scoops my bangs to the side and plonks the hat on top of my head.
I start to object. “It’s—”
“Perfect,” Vashi says firmly. “Hair tie.”
I check over my shoulder to make sure Aggie’s done and when she nods, retrieve my toiletry bag and hand Vashi my box of ties and scrunchies. She roots through until she finds a black velvet scrunchie, takes my hat off and gathers my hair into a side ponytail, then perches the hat on my head at an angle and draws the curls over my shoulder.
“Even more perfect.” She smiles. “Look in the mirror.”
I do—the inn has these amazing cheval mirrors in every room—and blink. I really don’t recognize myself. A dark, Victorian fairy with stripes and ruffles and ribbons and wings and gleaming skin framed in black and purple and hot, hot pink blinks huge eyes back at me from under the brim of the jauntiest hat ever.
“Emmy,” Daddy’s voice says. “Holy fuck, baby doll.”
I turn and smile at him. “You like it?” He hasn’t seen this, or any of the other little outfits I bought on a shopping expedition with my fairy kei friend Cynnie. She has a family obligation which kept her in New York this weekend, but I promised to take lots of pictures for her. I figure I’d better start now before I do something stupid like sweat. I grab my phone off the bed and cross the room to hand it to Daddy. �
�Let me get the shoes on. Would you take some pictures for Cynnie?”
Daddy grips my phone and looks down at me with a wolfy, feverish light in his dark eyes. “I’ll take some pictures for me.”
Everyone but Daddy giggles. “Yes, Daddy.”
The shoes for this outfit are so ridiculous that I didn’t even unpack them, but seeing the heat in Daddy’s eyes, I pull them out. They’re black, platform Mary Janes because I’m still utterly useless at walking in heels. One of those womanly arts I’ve never mastered that always made me feel like a failure when I was Matthew’s subbie. I love that Daddy never asks me to wear heels, or anything else that makes me uncomfortable.
As I slip the shoes on, there’s another voice at the door. “If your daddy doesn’t fuck you in those shoes, I will.”
“Daisy!” I squeal and launch myself at the woman in the doorway.
She catches me, laughing throatily. “Babe-girl, you look awesome. And edible. Tell me you’re ready to leave your daddy for me.”
Daddy growls but I just giggle, knowing Daisy doesn’t mean it. She’s told me she’ll always be my best-Domme-friend, but she knows I need my daddy more than anything she could give me. She just likes to tease Daddy unmercifully.
She gives me a hard squeeze before she lets me go and Daddy immediately draws me to his side. Remembering my manners this time, I introduce Daisy to Vashi and Aggie. Daisy introduces us to her “flavor of the weekend,” Piper, a curvy, curly brunette hovering in the hallway behind her, whose eyes nearly pop out of her head when she sees my outfit and the stuffies all over the bed and on every other flat surface.
Daisy, with her cinematic eye, poses me in front of the mirror so it reflects the back of my dress. While Daddy and Daisy take pictures, Aggie runs downstairs to see if there’s a black waistcoat for Professor Teddington. She returns, beaming, with a small, brown suitcase full of teddy clothes and we rifle through them with little cries of delight at each adorable outfit—there are dozens, all clearly handmade—did Martyn make these? A black and teal striped waistcoat works best with my outfit and once Professor Teddington’s appropriately attired, I’m back in front of the mirror with him for more pictures.
Daddy finally shoos everyone out so he can draw me into his arms and, angling his head to avoid the brim of my hat, kisses me until I’m tingling from ponytail to toes.
“Do you have something like this for the Mad Hatter’s Tea Party?” he asks when he finally lets me up for a breath.
I nod, panting too hard to form words. That outfit’s still wrapped in plastic in the closet, so the surprise isn’t spoiled.
“Now I understand all the instructions Cynnie sent me. The pair of you are going to be the death of me. I don’t think I’ve ever been this turned on by some silk and lace.” He guides my hand down to his jeans. Ooo, he is very hard. “What can I do to convince you to dress like this all the time?”
I giggle. “It’s for special occasions, Daddy.”
“There are going to be special occasions weekly from now on. I feel like I’m looking at your little’s soul for the first time, baby doll.”
He does? Tears pop into my eyes.
“I’ve been trying to reach this, baby girl, putting you in all those white and pink dresses and here you are.” He winds hot pink and black ribbons between his fingers. “I should have realized I needed to go a little darker. You’re so beautiful, Emmy. Can you see that?”
I nod. I feel beautiful in this. In all of the outfits I’ve bought for this weekend. But mostly I feel beautiful when Daddy looks at me like he is now. “ILY, Daddy.”
“ILY, too, baby girl.” His eyes redden. “I honestly had no idea how emotional I’d feel this weekend, sweetheart, but this is a big deal, isn’t it?”
My own eyes spill. “Yes, Daddy.”
Daddy dips his head and kisses my tears away. “Good tears or bad tears?”
“Best tears, Daddy.” And they are. They’re the best tears I’ve ever cried.
* * *
Once Daddy and I manage to dry up—although it’s still making my heart ache in the most wonderful way to see Daddy so moved—we collect everyone from their rooms. Laurel and Jiro have arrived while I’ve been changing and drowning in feels. After big hugs and mutual admiration and introductions, we walk to the gastropub Martyn recommended. I didn’t find it on any of the travel guides I read, but Martyn says it serves French-Canadian food to locals and when I mention where we’re going Daisy’s “flavor” gets very excited.
“Owen’s has the best poutine,” she enthuses as she leads us down several side streets, through what looks like a very residential neighborhood.
As we walk, I learn that Piper’s a local who Daisy found on a kinky dating app, which is so Daisy. When I ask her if she knows Martyn, she lowers her eyes and blushes.
“I do. We belong to the same dungeon. But he’d never notice me.”
“Why not?” I think she’s worthy of notice. She certainly caught Daisy’s attention.
“He’s only interested in the ones who look like her.” She nods over her shoulder at Laurel, walking a little way behind us with Jiro and talking animatedly to Mistress Maude. Laurel is very elegant, with her proud crest of crimson hair swept back to show the shaved sides of her head, her flowing, white, scaled playsuit, and gladiator sandals.
I tip my head back to look at Daddy, who only dated super-models before me. He grins back at me and squeezes the arm he has around my shoulders. I know he’s glad he took a chance on someone who will never walk a runway, no matter how beautiful I feel in my Victorian fairy outfit.
“Don’t give up,” I tell Piper. “Sometimes it just takes a nudge for a Dom to look outside what he thinks he wants and realize what he’s been missing.”
Piper’s soft brown eyes flick from me to Daddy and back to me. Her mouth rounds in a little O.
“Also,” I say, thinking of the wonderful collection of teddy bear clothes Martyn must have made and the way he takes care of the historical treasure that is the inn. “Martyn’s interested in things outside the norm.” I hold out Professor Teddington, who has been tucked under my arm as we’ve walked to the restaurant. Piper’s eyes kindle and I can see from the tension that runs through her hands and arms that she wants to take the bear, even though she holds herself back. “This is Martyn’s. He’s letting me borrow Professor Teddington for the weekend but if you like him, maybe . . .” I trail off, letting Piper’s imagination fill in the gap.
Her eyes light up and she nods eagerly. Bingo. There’s a little under there, whether she’s actually into it as a lifestyle the way I am or just likes comfort-items and has a bit of a daddy kink, it doesn’t matter. And Martyn may not think of himself as a daddy, but he’s been preparing for his little for years if Professor Teddington’s wardrobe is anything to go by.
The next time I offer Professor Teddington to Piper, she takes him and cuddles him to her chest the rest of the way to the restaurant. Daisy holds the door open and as everyone files past, knocks me with her elbow. I step away from Daddy and lean in next to her.
“Are you setting up my date with another Dom?”
“Yes,” I say unrepentantly.
“Emmy—”
“Are you going to see her again after this weekend?”
“Probably not, but never say never, doll.”
“If you develop feels for her this weekend, then tell me to, um, back off.” I catch myself before I say “bugger off,” even though Daddy says it all the time, because I don’t want my mouth washed out with soap ever again. “Otherwise, I’m totally setting her up with Martyn. She’s a bit of a little and Martyn’s a bit of a daddy. You’re not a mommy.”
Daisy runs her blindingly white, coffin-shaped nails through her mane of blonde-and-blue ombre spiral curls. “I’m not not a mommy.”
I squint at her out of one eye, which Daddy calls my inquisitive-owl face, even though it’s not. “So, you’re a quasi-mommy?”
She knocks me with her elbow agai
n. “Until I met you, I wasn’t attracted to littles. Now, I’m not sure. There’s a boy I’m seeing in L.A. who definitely has leanings. And Piper didn’t identify as a little but talking to her before I flew out, I got some of the same vibes I get off you. I’m exploring.”
“Good. The world needs more mommies.” I go up on my toes to kiss Daisy’s cheek—not because she’s that much taller than I am but because she’s wearing her trademark, blue velvet, six-inch platform sandals, yes for a casual lunch—and scoot into the restaurant before a raging daddy comes to reclaim me.
He’s only about three steps inside the door anyway, scowling ferociously, until I tuck under his arm. “Remember that T-shirt?” he grumbles.
“Property of Daddy?” I ask cheekily, knowing that Daddy’s actually fond of Daisy and will never get into a serious tiff with her no matter how much she teases him.
“That’s the one. Think I need to go back to the B-and-D for it?”
“No, Daddy. Can they still seat us together?” I ask, peering around for a server. Owen’s doesn’t take reservations, but when I told them how many would likely come for lunch, they said they could seat us outside at picnic tables they’d put under umbrellas in case of rain.
“Mm-hmm.” Daddy tips his chin towards the back of the open, family-style restaurant where I see Master Javier being shown through a back door by a young man who looks star-struck. I mean, Javier is minor European nobility, so he could have real reason to be. Or he could have just discovered he’s submissive, given what a strong Dom Master Javier is. Javier certainly leaves the club submissives looking like that on a regular basis, a thought that makes me giggle as the crowd of us clustered at the restaurant’s entrance begins to file after Javier.
We get more than a few goggle-eyed looks as we troop through, particularly after Daisy struts in on her heels, looking every inch the movie star she is. A couple of phones appear with the fisheye of the camera pointed at her and Daisy gives them a wave before linking her arm through mine and propelling us out to the back patio. I’d normally be freaked out by the idea of being photographed in my little clothes, with a well-known porn star, but I’m safe here with my daddy, in the middle of our tribe, and I can’t imagine anyone would recognize me in this outfit.
