Amelia
I’m exhausted when I get back to my cabin after dinner. It’s been a long day that started super early and had a very stressful middle. Everyone loved the lasagna I made and agreed it would need to be a regular staple on the menu.
Leah and Craig returned about an hour before dinner, and Foster joined us at the big table in the kitchen at six-thirty. It was slightly awkward because Leah kept giving me a look and glancing at Foster. I know she has questions, but I simply don’t have answers, so I’m grateful she didn’t nail me down and give me the third degree.
Foster helped me clean the kitchen after Leah and Craig excused themselves. I told him repeatedly it was my job, but he insisted he wasn’t going to sit on a stool and watch me clean. It wasn’t in his nature.
I pointed out I had no intention of helping him mow the lawn or skim the pool, which only made him laugh.
The infuriating man walked me to my door like a perfect gentleman, kissed me briefly, and waited for me to close and lock it behind me before leaving me to myself.
That was thirty minutes ago. Thirty long minutes. I’ve tidied things that didn’t need tidying, wandered around the small space aimlessly, and now I’m sitting in the bath.
I’ve been living alone for three years. I’ve loved every moment of my time alone. I’ve loved being able to return to my apartment no matter the hour, finding everything right where I left it, and enjoying the solitude.
I’ve loved watching whatever I want on TV, playing my own music, or enjoying the silence.
So, what the hell is wrong with me tonight? I’m lonely. It’s like Foster got under my skin and turned me into someone I don’t recognize. I should climb into bed with a good book and read. Maybe not Submissive Confessions, but perhaps a thriller or a suspense. Do I have either of those genres in my e-reader? I doubt it.
I run my fingers through the bubbles floating around me. The water is getting cool. I’ve already reheated it twice. I need to get out. I’m going to be a prune.
Reluctantly, I let the water run down the drain, stand, and grab my towel. I’m unnerved by the random thoughts going through my head.
If Foster were here, I bet he would have washed me, and now he would be patting me dry. He’s overbearing like that. I wonder how young he likes his Littles to live? Considering the fact that I’ve never pondered being a Little long enough to know what I would enjoy, I find myself craving some of his brand of attention, whatever it might look like.
I brush my teeth before hanging my towel up on the rack and padding naked into my bedroom. After grabbing a pink thong from my drawer, I reach for a T-shirt and hesitate.
Chewing on my bottom lip, I glance toward the closet. My Little-exploration box is calling to me. Maybe that’s not a bad thing. Maybe tonight I could let myself relax in a younger space. It might help me settle down and get to sleep.
It might cause me to toss and turn all night with thoughts of Foster dominating me.
I close the drawer and shuffle timidly toward the closet as if there might be a monster inside instead of the looming box. Standing in nothing but my thong, I take a deep breath, open the closet, and tug the box forward a few inches so I can open it and reach inside.
I pull out my footed pajamas first and step into them before zipping up the front to my chin. Next, I grab my teddy bear. The moment I hug him to my chest, I let out a deep breath.
Perhaps this was the perfect idea. I reach back into the box and retrieve one of my YA books before dashing back to my bed. I turn off the lights and snuggle under the covers with my book light and my reading material.
Yes. Perfect. I can feel my tension easing. I’ve only done this three other times. All three times I did it for an entire weekend. Tonight, I only have another hour at best, but I know it will help.
I open the book to chapter one and start reading, losing myself in the story, separating myself from reality. A reality I’m not ready to face. Not tonight. The book is appropriate for someone about twelve, and I imagine if I were a practicing Little, I’d be more of a Middle. Older. Not as young as Foster probably prefers. He likes to do things for me. I prefer to be old enough to do them for myself.
I glance down at my footed pajamas and chuckle. I doubt a twelve-year-old would wear something this young, but she might, and she might have a teddy bear. She would for sure read a chapter book.
After a few minutes, a noise makes me poke my head out from under the covers. Did I imagine it? I hold my breath, waiting.
There. Again. It’s a scratching noise. Coming from outside. Perhaps at the front door or at least the front of the cabin.
I’m frozen. When it happens again, louder, I start to panic. What could it be? There aren’t any people around. I know Foster wouldn’t mess with me like this. He would never do something to scare me. Leah and Craig went to bed a long time ago—or at least to their suite of rooms upstairs.
Foster said there are animals out here. Could it be a bear or something? Bears are smart. If they smell food, they can open car doors and rip them right off the hinges to get to it. I’ve seen it in documentaries. They always scare the shit out of me.
Another loud scratch. I drop my book and my light in my lap as I sit up straighter. My heart is racing. Suddenly, I’m beyond grateful to Foster because there’s a laminated phone list next to the phone on the bedside table. Every room and cabin has one. Since there’s no cell service out here, the only way to place calls even among employees is with a landline.
I reach for the cordless phone on my bedside table and push the buttons to dial Foster’s number with shaky fingers.
He picks up immediately. “Amelia?”
“There’s something outside my cabin,” I ramble. “It’s scaring me. Maybe it’s a bear or a cougar or whatever. Could you maybe come look?”
“Slow down, sweet girl. Don’t panic. I’ll be right there. Where are you?”
“In my bed.”
“Okay, don’t move. I’ll check out the perimeter and let myself in. I have a key.”
“Okay. Hurry.” I hang up. Am I being irrational? Maybe, but he doesn’t have to worry about me disobeying him this time. There’s no way I’m getting out of this bed. I couldn’t if I wanted to. I’m trembling too badly.
I hear the noise again. Is it getting louder? I feel like I’m in a horror movie.
I hold my breath and count slowly, knowing it can’t take Foster more than thirty seconds to get to me. Maybe forty-five if he wasn’t dressed. He would have had to put shoes on, and… I hear a snapping noise that makes me squeal.
A knock sounds at the door a second before it opens. “It’s just me, Amelia,” he announces. Seconds later, he’s in my bedroom. He flips on the overhead light and rushes to my side.
I scramble out from the tangle of covers to crawl toward him and wrap my arms around him as soon as he sits on the edge of the bed. He holds me tight.
“You’re okay. It was just a branch.”
I gasp and lean back to meet his gaze. “A branch?”
“Yes. It’s windy tonight. It snapped part way off the tree near the front of your cabin and got stuck on the eave. It was dragging back and forth along the door and the window.” He smooths my hair back from my face.
“A branch?” I’m incredulous. And I feel ridiculous.
He nods. “It would have freaked me out too. I bet it was loud.” At least he’s not being condescending. I’m embarrassed enough as it is.
“A branch,” I repeat softer.
“I’ll cut the longer branches back on that tree tomorrow so it won’t happen again.” He sets his hand on my chest. “Your heart is racing.”
I squeeze my eyes closed when his gaze lowers and he freezes. This is the moment it occurs to me I’m wearing the footed pajamas with teddy bears all over them.
It’s my turn to freeze. I stop breathing again. Shit.
Moments tick by while he absorbs what he’s looking at and I wait for his reaction. My cheeks are hot. Shit shit shit.
“I, uh…” I don’t know what to say.
Foster leans back a few more inches, holding my biceps. He takes in more of me and then glances around at my open book, my light, and my teddy bear which is unfortunately in my lap where he landed and got dragged to the edge of the bed with me.
Without a word, Foster slowly stands. He grabs me around the waist and picks me up, bringing me to his chest. I wrap my legs around him out of instinct, finding myself propped on his hip.
Foster grabs my bear next, tucks him against my chest, and then adds my book and my little light. He hugs me before turning around to leave the room. He flips off the light and heads for the front door.
He still hasn’t spoken as he steps outside and locks my cabin. I haven’t either. I’m biting my lips. I was confused at first, but now I realize he’s taking me with him. He even uses my book light as a small flashlight to illuminate the path.
I switch from holding my breath to panting by the time we reach his front porch, and I’m clinging to him for life as if there really are bears roaming around nearby.
When we get inside, he locks the door efficiently behind us and carries me to the kitchen area to set me on the counter. After tucking my bear in my arms, he sets my book and light on the counter. Finally, he meets my gaze and speaks. “How about some hot cocoa?”
I stare at him.
He waits patiently, his hands on my thighs. “Do you like hot cocoa, sweet girl?”
“Yes, Sir,” I finally manage to murmur.
“Good.” He nods. As he starts to step away, he squeezes my thighs. “You won’t fall, will you?”
I shake my head. “No, Sir.” My heart is racing. I’m so Little right now. I’m scared and confused and so many other emotions. I was already Little when I called him. I was in my Littlest space ever. I can’t shake it, and he knows it. Hell, I’m wearing teddy-bear, footed pajamas. Which he still hasn’t commented on. I’m not the preteen I convinced myself would suit me.
Foster moves around the kitchen, heating milk on the stove, adding cocoa and sugar, pulling out mugs. When he sets a bag of mini marshmallows next to the mugs, my breath hitches.
He glances at me and winks. “You do like marshmallows, right?”
“Yes, Sir.” I’m smiling now. I’m still mortified, but my heart is slowing down. I might live through this awkward event.
When the milk begins to scald, Foster lifts me up again and carries me to the table. He pulls out a chair and lowers me onto it before pushing me up to the table.
I’m oddly high off the ground. I’m usually too short to properly reach any table comfortably. When I glance down, I see I’m sitting on a booster seat fixed to the chair. Was that here earlier? I didn’t notice.
My heart beats faster again. My world is spinning out of control. I’m a combination of panicked and comforted. It’s hard to choose which emotion wins from one second to the next.
Foster pours the cocoa into the mugs and carries them to the table with the bag of marshmallows tucked under his arm. He sets one steaming mug in front of me. “Don’t touch it yet, sweet girl. It’s too hot.”
I stare at his back as he returns to the cabinets and I continue watching him as he returns with spoons. He smiles as he hands me one. “I bet you’ll want lots of marshmallows and you’ll need to fish them out with a spoon.”
I take it from him with shaking fingers. “Thank you.”
He sits catty corner to me at the head of the table and opens the marshmallows. “You want to put them in?”
I shake my head. “You can do it, Sir.” I’d probably spill the entire bag on the floor if I tried to lift it.
“Okay, tell me when to stop.” He drops three or four in at a time and I let him do this several times before I start to giggle because the cup is overflowing with marshmallows and he never said a word.
“More?” he teases.
“I think that’s enough.” I reach for one off the top and pop it into my mouth, surprised I have the ability to chew or swallow. Luckily, I surely can’t choke on marshmallows.
Foster chuckles and shakes his head. “You’re going to have a sugar high and never get to sleep tonight.”
He might be right. I don’t care. I’m not sure I could sleep anyway after this weird interaction and being caught in my footed pajamas. He must think I’m a liar. In fact, that thought suddenly unnerves me more than anything else.
I can’t breathe. I need to tell him I’m not a liar. “I uh… I keep a box in my closet. I call it my Little-exploration box. I’ve brought it out a total of three times before on weekends when I wanted to escape the world. Before tonight I mean.” I add that last part in a whisper as I lower my gaze. Shit.
Foster strokes my cheek. “I’m not judging you, sweet girl.”
I swallow and look at him. “I just didn’t want you to think I was lying about being Little. I just… I’ve dabbled. Alone. Three times. Not like…habitually. I never meant for anyone to see.” My voice trails off again.
His hand slides to my hair and he strokes the back of my head. “You don’t have to explain yourself, Amelia. It’s okay. And, for the record, you’re fucking adorable.”
“Okay, but I don’t want you to read anything into it. And…I might look young in these particular PJs, but when I’ve dabbled, I think of myself as being more like a tween.”
“Okay. Nothing has changed between us. I promise.”
I scrunch up my face and meet his gaze again. “Because you never believed I wasn’t Little in the first place.”
“Basically,” he admits before pointing at my cocoa. “I bet it’s cool enough to drink now, but you might have to eat some of those swelling marshmallows off the top to get to the cocoa,” he teases.
I take a deep breath and decide to do as he’s suggested. The warm cocoa might calm my racing heart down. Why should I be embarrassed? Foster is undaunted. No reason to panic. Except I’ve given him more fuel and more of an argument to his case.
I eat several marshmallows before lifting the mug and taking a sip. Some of the hot chocolate dribbles down my chin, and Foster tugs a napkin from the holder in the middle of the table and wipes my chin.
I sip the rest in silence, wondering what he’s thinking, knowing he has jumped to conclusions I’m not sure I’m ready for. How could he not?
When the cocoa is all gone, Foster stands and takes the mugs to the sink. He returns with a wet washcloth and wipes my face and my sticky fingers. Next, he pushes out my chair, lifts me into his arms again, and carries me to the recliner in his living room. He has my book tucked under his arm.
After getting me settled on his lap with Teddy in my arms and my book in his hand, he glances at it. “I’ve never read this one. Is it good?”
I nod, my embarrassment creeping back to the surface.
“Would you like me to read it to you?”
I draw in a breath. “Yes, Sir.”
“Can I start at the beginning so I’ll know what it’s about?”
“Of course, silly.” He makes me giggle. Somehow he always manages to calm me.
I snuggle into his embrace while he reads the first chapter, letting my eyes close as I listen. It’s nice. I love his deep voice and the way he makes the characters come to life, giving each of them a different voice. Some of the female voices are kind of funny, but I don’t say that. I just smile.
After two chapters, he closes the book. “Do you think you’re calm enough to sleep now, sweet girl? I know that tree branch scared you, but hopefully, your heart rate has settled by now.”
He doesn’t mention the fact that most of my anxiety has nothing to do with the branch and everything to do with being caught Little in front of him. I lean back and look at him. “Are you going to take me back to my cabin?”
“Would you like me to take you back to your cabin?”
I hesitate, uncertain how to respond. I’m digging in deeper and deeper with Foster by the hour. I’ll be stepping way out of my comfort zone if I sleep with him.
He cups my cheek. “I’d rather you stay here and sleep in my bed. I’ll tuck you in on one side and let you get your beauty rest. I know you like to get up early to get to the kitchen. How about if I set an alarm and take you back to your cabin to change in the morning?”
Does he mean it? He wants me to sleep in his bed but he’s not going to touch me?
I stare at him, wondering if that’s even possible. The thought alone of him offering it makes my body come to life. Part of me would prefer to say “fuck it” and strip out of these jammies so I can straddle him and feel his erection between my legs right here on this chair.
“If it makes you uncomfortable, I’ll take you back to your cabin right now, sweet girl.” He kisses my forehead and hugs me closer. “But I’ll sleep better if you’re near me instead of so far away.”
“I’ll sleep better if you’re near me too, Sir.”
“Good. It’s settled then.” He stands, still holding me, and carries me to the bathroom. He sets me on my feet for the first time and reaches into a drawer to pull out a new toothbrush. After tugging off the wrapper, he puts toothpaste on it and brings it toward my mouth. “Open up. If you go to bed without getting your teeth brushed after all those marshmallows, you’ll get cavities.”
I glance at him. He’s going to brush my teeth himself. I’m too tired and out of sorts to argue, so I open my mouth and let him take care of business. After I rinse a few times, he points at the toilet. “Go potty. I’ll wait for you in the bedroom.” He steps outside the bathroom and shuts the door.
For the first time since he snatched me out of my bed, I’m alone. I’m in Foster’s cabin. In his bathroom. I’m wearing my Little footed pajamas and still carrying a teddy bear.
I’m frozen to my spot as I try to process all this. It’s so fast. Isn’t it?
I shake myself, forcing myself to lower the jammies and use the toilet. I certainly don’t want him to wonder what’s taking me so long and poke his head in while I’m peeing with my entire torso exposed.
After quickly zipping back into my PJs, I wash my hands, grab Teddy, and open the door.
Foster is on the edge of the bed. He has changed into flannel pants. His shirt is gone. He’s the sexiest man on earth. My mouth waters looking at him. I haven’t seen his chest naked before. It’s rock solid and tanned from working in the yard.
I’m aroused. Every inch of me is horny. My nipples are hard points. My pussy is wet. There’s a tightness in my tummy that needs release.
I don’t even know if Foster mixes his Daddy mode with sex or not. I know he’s attracted to me. He showed me twice today with his mouth on mine. I’ve seen the bulge in his jeans more than once too. But is he attracted to my Little? I’m not sure how that works.
“Come on, sweet girl. Let’s get you in bed.” He comes to me, lifts me in his arms again, and carries me to the opposite side from where he’d been sitting. After tugging the covers back, he settles me on my back, tucks Teddy in tight, and pulls the covers up. “When you’re Little like this do you sleep with a pacifier, sweet girl?”
I shake my head, my face heating. “I’m not…this young.” My voice is weak. I don’t sound convincing. I’m surely not as young as he’s treating me. So young I need a booster seat—okay, maybe I do need a booster seat anyway. It was nice to be able to reach the table easier. But I don’t need him to brush my teeth or carry me around.
It felt nice though. Odd. Scary. But nice.
He kisses my forehead before rounding to his side of the bed, turning out the light, and climbing in.