Amelia
“Why did Master Roman tell you not to go outside? Is he that strict?” I ask Lucy as we emerge into the basement.
Lucy nods. “He thinks I’ll fall in the pool and drown,” she responds dramatically.
Eve giggles. “He’s overprotective and always has been.”
Leah hip checks Eve. “Like Colton isn’t overprotective.”
Eve gives Leah a playful shove. “Says the woman who denied she was Little at all until it hit her in the face.”
Leah groans. “Must we rehash this every time I see you?”
“Yes. Yes, we must,” Eve declares proudly.
Lucy drags Leah by the arm. “Stop arguing about who is more legitimately Little and show me the media room.”
I haven’t been in there myself yet, so I’m as excited as Lucy and Eve when we step inside. It’s dark, nearly pitch black until Leah turns on the sconces. And then we all ooh and aah over the stadium seating, plush black carpet, and giant screen.
Lucy rushes to the front of the room and plops down on her butt on the carpet where there are no seats, so we all follow her. As soon as we’re seated in a circle, and it feels like we’re about to hold a séance in the dim lighting, she looks at me. “Talk, girlfriend.”
My face heats and I tug the hem of my dress over my knees and toy with it with my fingers. I shrug. “I don’t know what to say.”
“Start from the beginning. Tell me how you met Foster,” she encourages.
Leah chuckles. “This story is good.”
I draw in a breath. “From his view, he stepped into the kitchen where I was taking stock of things and cleaning the oven and fell so hard for me he got rattled and ended up being rather sharp and rude.”
Lucy’s eyes widen. “What did he say?”
“Specifically, ‘what is that awful smell?’ He was referring to the oven cleaner.”
They all giggle.
“How smooth. And you didn’t pop him in the nose?”
I snicker. “I thought about it.”
“But you also thought he was sexy and he made your heart beat faster,” Leah points out.
“There is that,” I agree. “But then we went round and round because I tried to tell him I’m not Little and he is clearly all Daddy. Eventually, he sort of wore me down and convinced me to try his way for two days. And here we are.”
“So…” Lucy inquires. “You look adorable. How do you feel?”
I draw in a long breath. “Like I’m on a seesaw.”
Lucy reaches for my hand. “You want to talk about it?”
“Yes.” I really do. I need their advice. I need to be brave and figure this out. “First of all, it’s only fair you know I’ve spent time in a Little space before in the past. I usually do it alone on the weekends. Only a few times, but enough that I knew I enjoy letting the world disappear for forty-eight hours so I could recharge.”
“Makes sense,” Eve offers. She reaches over to give my hand a squeeze.
I take a moment, staring at my lap again. “When he dominates me, it makes me very…”
“Horny?” Eve offers, giggling.
“Well, yeah. And small,” I add.
“Yeah,” Lucy agrees. “You either love that feeling and embrace it or you don’t. It really boils down to whether or not you enjoy the entire package. Does your tummy flutter when you turn over all your power to him and let him make decisions? Do your panties get wet when he orders you to do something?”
I purse my lips as I listen to her.
Leah strokes one of my pigtails. Her voice is soft. “I love being taken care of. I love that I don’t have to think when Craig is in charge. I love that he holds me and makes sure I eat right and sleep enough. I thrive on the structure and rules.”
“I get that.” I do. “It does feel nice when Foster rocks me or bathes me or dresses me. I feel like a princess.”
“Me too,” Eve agrees. “We all do.”
“I’m just not sure, and I worry about it affecting my job.”
Leah shakes her head. “I promise none of us will judge you based on your lifestyle preferences. The job is already yours. You’re not at an interview, Amy. You’re already part of the family.”
I try not to cry. “Thank you,” I murmur. “What if things go badly and Foster and I don’t work out? He’s been here longer. I’d have to leave.”
“Or maybe you could simply agree it didn’t work and be friends,” Lucy suggests.
I shake my head. “Not after the sex we had this morning.” I slap my hand over my mouth after those words slip out.
They all giggle.
“I guess it was good,” Lucy says.
“More like intense. My endorphins were on overdrive and I ended up crying for a while afterward. I don’t think I’m fully myself even now. I kinda needed more aftercare than we had time for. It was unexpected because it was just sex.” Except it wasn’t just sex. It was a lot more than that. It changed everything.
Leah reaches for me again, squeezing my knees. “Oh, sweetie, why didn’t you say something? We could have covered for you. Or, uh, Craig could have cooked for me,” she declares, being silly.
I laugh, but tears fall anyway. “I don’t want my relationship to affect my job,” I insist.
Leah shakes her head. “Okay, but you need to cut yourself some slack at first while you’re feeling things out. We all will. No one will be mad if you need some time. You didn’t know you would go into subdrop from sex. Though I must say, it must have been some amazing sex.”
I smile through the slow tears. “It really was. But I think I got confused, shuffling my adult self and my Little back and forth. I couldn’t figure out who I was.” I glance at all of them. “Are you Little when you have sex?”
Lucy answers first. “It’s a delicate balance, and there’s no right or wrong answer. It’s personal. Most of the time, when we’re in bed, I’m an adult. Occasionally, my Little comes to bed because I can’t shake her. That’s okay.”
Leah and Eve both nod.
Leah stokes one of her curly pigtails. “I had a serious subdrop the first time Craig and I had sex too.”
“You did?” I look at her.
“Yes. It was intense, and we had a lot of discussions about what headspace I should be in when we have sex. We worked it out. You will too. Just know there’s no wrong answer. Just what’s right for you.”
“Okay.”
“And it’s okay and normal to wobble,” Eve adds. “I certainly wobble. I might be in a Little space when we start, but I’m all woman when I scream out my orgasm.” She laughs.
“Thanks, you all. I feel better.”
“Girls?” The voice coming from the doorway is Master Roman’s. “Ah, there you are. Why are you sitting in the dark?”
“Daddy,” Lucy drawls, “It’s not dark. We have the sconces on. It’s just dim. Mood lighting.”
“What do you need mood lighting for?” he growls with a slightly playful edge to his voice, hands on his hips.
“To talk. Don’t be silly, Daddy.”
“Well, are you done talking? I came to get you girls for lunch. And if you’re good, we’ll go swimming after lunch.”
“Yay,” Lucy shouts as she pushes to standing.
Her excitement is contagious, and we all jump up as Lucy leaps into Master Roman’s arms. “Do you mean it? We can go swimming?”
“Of course. It’s warm enough out today, and Foster has the pool heated.” He pats her bottom. “Let’s eat first.”
“Are you going to make us wait a half-hour after eating to get in the pool,” she whines.
“I might now. Or you can spend that half-hour in the naughty corner if you don’t come up with an attitude adjustment really fast.”
“Sorry, Daddy.”
I follow the others out of the theater and across the big room that will be used for dance lessons, yoga, Pilates, or whatever activities the resort ends up offering. I feel lighter as we head up the stairs, and I find Foster and go to him as soon as we’re in the kitchen.
He pulls me into his embrace and kisses me on the lips. “Feel better?” he whispers so no one else can hear.
“Yes, Sir.”
He hugs me tighter. He really wants this to work. I know that in my heart. I need to be patient with myself. I’m only human. No one expects me to make a life commitment after one day of age play. Not even Foster.
Foster seems reluctant to release me as I glance at the kitchen table. He and the other Daddies have already set out the lunch spread so everyone can make their own sandwiches.
I wiggle in his embrace to turn around, and he permits that much but keeps me pressed against him, my back against his front now. His hand flattens on my tummy, his fingers spread wide, keeping me in place. He sets his lips on my ear. “Don’t panic. It’s just lunch. I’ll leave you alone to make whatever you have planned for dinner, okay?”
I nod, trying to swallow down the knot in my throat. Even though logically I know this is fine and both Craig and Leah have reassured me several times they don’t mind me exploring age play, I still feel awkward about letting Foster or anyone else help me with meals. It’s my job.
Foster’s fingers graze the bottom of my boobs and when he strokes them back and forth, my breath catches. I glance down at the way he’s holding me so intimately. My breasts are heavy. No one can miss the stiff points of my nipples. There’s also a good chance my dress is hiked up enough that people can glimpse my panties.
Just before I panic, Foster releases me. He gives my butt a light swat to encourage me to head toward the table where everyone else is gathering.
I feel like I’m out of body, watching this scene unfold. Four Daddies pull out chairs for four Little girls and push them up to the table before filling four plastic plates and four plastic cups. It’s surreal.
A combination of emotions wells up inside me. I’m struggling to process everything. I’ve seen age play before. Many times. This isn’t new to me. I’ve watched Leah and Craig together. I’ve witnessed Lucy interact with Master Roman.
I’ve never participated. It’s totally different. Watching or serving other people isn’t the same as jumping into the fray. I’m nervous all over again. There’s no reason to be. No one is judging me. I keep telling myself that and yet the nerves keep creeping in.
Before any of the men sit, Foster sets his hands on my shoulders and leans over me from behind.
I tip my head back to look at him. He speaks to me in a whisper so no one can hear. “You’re kind of shaky. Do you want a lid on your cup?”
“No, Sir.” I shiver though. That one tiny suggestion yanks me fully back into a Little space.
“Spread your knees for me, sweet girl.”
The flutters in my tummy return as I obey him, wrapping my ankles around the legs of the chair to remind myself.
He slides a hand down my front, flicking both nipples on the way by as he reaches for my pussy. It’s so fast, there’s little chance anyone notices, but I gasp as he hikes up my dress, cups my pussy, and drags a finger through my folds.
I’m a quivering mess when he retreats to sit next to me. My legs are trembling. My nipples are so hard they ache for more contact. And my panties are soaking wet.
The more important detail is Foster knows all this. He knows he arouses me when he makes demands. He didn’t need to prove it. He did it so he could point out that he knows. And I’m panting now. I’m so aroused my vision is blurry. I want to climb onto his lap, straddle him, and rut against his cock. I could easily make myself come through my panties and his jeans if I did that. I could probably make him come too.
I jerk my gaze to my plate, wondering how I’m going to swallow. The only thing I feel like swallowing right now is Foster’s come, partly because he didn’t permit me to do so this morning.
He gives me a few moments before leaning over and nudging my plate. “Eat, sweet girl.”
I’ve been in a bubble, and when I glance around, I find everyone else is eating and talking and laughing. I don’t want them to notice the storm happening inside me, so I pick up my sandwich and force myself to take a bite.
I’m like a robot. Bite, chew, swallow. Bite, chew, swallow. I even manage to switch around my plate to include carrot sticks and apple wedges.
“Can we swim now, Daddy?” Lucy asks as soon as she swallows the last bite of her lunch.
Master Roman chuckles. “You can take your plate to the sink and go upstairs and change. I put your suitcase in the powder blue room at the end of the hall.”
She jumps up from the table and hurries toward the sink.
“No running,” Master Roman admonishes.
Leah looks toward Craig who nods his acceptance, while Eve does the same with Colton. As the three Littles race from the room—speed walking—Leah says to Lucy, “Are you sure you don’t mind that I moved into your favorite pink room?”
“Of course not. You live here. I just visit sometimes. You should have the pink room.”
I’m staring after them as they disappear toward the front of the house, heading for the majestic, curved stairs in the foyer.
Foster turns to me as the other men stand and carry things to the island. “You finished eating, sweet girl?”
“Yes, Sir.” Maybe I should start calling him Daddy, but it doesn’t roll off my tongue easily yet. I worry he will read too much into it. I clear my throat and sit straighter. “May I please clean the kitchen?”
He cups the back of my neck and draws me close to kiss my forehead. “Not this time. It’s only going to take the Daddies a few minutes. How about if we go back to my cabin so you can change.”
“I need my swimsuit from my cabin, Sir.”
“I bought you a new one.”
“Oh.” My eyes widen.
“I’ve seen Leah’s suits. I’ve also seen Lucy’s. I figured you might like to be dressed similarly, so I ordered you one.”
“Okay.” I can’t imagine what he means. A suit is a suit.
Foster stands and pulls my chair back.
I grab my plate and cup and carry them to the sink. The rest of the men already have the dishwasher loaded and they’re putting the lunchmeat away. “Thank you for making lunch, Sirs,” I tell them.
Master Roman smiles. “You’re welcome, Amy. Our pleasure.”
Foster guides me out the back door and down the path to his cabin. I glance at my own cabin. I haven’t been inside it for over a day now. It’s weird. My stuff is in there. My clothes and toiletries and all the things I would never need if I were to be Foster’s Little all the time.
But what about when I’m working? When we have guests? I can’t imagine cooking and cleaning the kitchen all day in short dresses, frilly socks, and pigtails. I also can’t imagine not doing so.
Foster leads me into the bedroom where he sits on the edge of the bed and hauls me between his legs. “I know you’re overwhelmed today. I don’t think you got enough aftercare this morning.”
“I’m okay,” I whisper.
“Maybe you should take a nap before we join the others.”
I shake my head. That would embarrass me.
“Okay, but if you get tired, tell me and I’ll bring you back for a nap.”
“Yes, Sir.”
He pulls my dress over my head and sets it on the bed.
I shiver when the air hits my nipples. They’ve been hard all day. Swimming isn’t going to fix that problem. I grab on to Foster’s shoulders as he bends down to remove my shoes and socks before pulling my panties down my legs last.
He spins me around. “Go potty while I get your suit.”
Those flutters take over again. There’s a butterfly battle in my tummy. It happens so often I can’t tell what triggers them. I think it’s when Foster is in full Daddy mode. When he tells me to do mundane things like eat or pee. He thinks of everything. How did he know I needed to use the bathroom?
I start to shut the door but decide he wouldn’t like that, so I leave it open while I pee, flush, and wash my hands. When I return, Foster is on the edge of the bed again. He’s holding a lavender two-piece suit. It’s not like what an adult would wear though. Not by any stretch. Not a bikini with a tiny string at the neck and ties at the hips. Nope. This is the sort of two-piece a four-year-old would wear and think they were grown up.
He puts the bottoms on me first, sliding them up my thighs and over my hips. They cover as much skin as the panties he has me wear. Frilly ruffles extend all the way around in layers.
The top is about what I would expect after seeing the bottoms. I lift my arms for him to pull it over my head and settle it around my boobs. It also covers more skin than the normal bra. The straps are wide at my shoulders and the bodice is wide all the way around my back. It’s sort of like how a training bra would fit, except for the matching ruffles all the way around.
“There. What do you think?”
I lift my gaze. “It’s pretty.” I feel so very young again with this youthful suit and my pigtails swaying across my shoulders. Younger than I felt earlier. I can’t decide how I feel about it. It sort of settles over me like a heavy blanket, making me sluggish and uncertain.
“Just like the Little girl wearing it.” He kisses my forehead. He pulls out a pair of flip-flops next and holds them up. “Purple.”
I grin. They are purple. They even have little flowers on the V. Who knew so many youthful things came in adult sizes? I look at him. “Are you going to change too?”
“Yep. Give me five minutes.” He stands, lifts me up, and swings me onto the bed.
I twist around to find Teddy and hold him against my chest while Foster pulls swim trunks out of a drawer and heads to the bathroom. He doesn’t shut the door, but I can’t see him from this angle. I kinda wish he would have changed in front of me, but I suppose I’ve been aroused enough for one day. I’d probably self-combust if I saw him naked again now.
When he returns, he has on navy swim trunks, a white T-shirt, and black flip-flops. “Ready, sweet girl?”
I set Teddy aside and slide off the bed to join him.
He swings me up into his arms, props me on his hip, and nuzzles my neck. “Mmm. You smell good. I like the bodywash I got you. Or maybe it’s the shampoo.”
I set my head on his shoulder and let him carry me to the pool, sliding into that odd space where I’m so very little. It keeps creeping up on me, startling me, scaring me. When we started this, I had pictured a sassy preteen for myself, not this much younger age where Daddy carries me and bathes me and cuts my food. I keep running through it in my mind, trying to make sense of my feelings and failing.
Everyone else is already by the pool. There are several glass tables on white pedestals scattered at the zero-entry end of the pool, and the Daddies are sitting on the chairs putting sunscreen on the Littles.
Foster pulls out a chair nearby and stands me between his legs before reaching to the basket in the center of the table and grabbing a pink bottle of baby sunscreen.
“I didn’t even know the SPF went that high,” I say as he pops the top and pours some in his hand.
“Don’t want any of the Littles visiting this resort to get a sunburn.” He bends down to start with my legs and works his way up to my arms, pouring more sunscreen in his palm every once in a while.
When he does my tummy, it tickles. When he does my chest, it does something else to me. My swimsuit gets wet between my legs while he rubs the lotion in, dipping his fingers under the edge.
I gasp, my knees going wobbly when he flicks my nipple.
He’s grinning as he removes his hand and moves to my cheeks. “There. All covered.”
“May I get in now, Sir?”
“Wait just a second for me to get my shirt off, sweet girl.”
Everyone else is already splashing in the water, and I eye them with the kind of jealousy fit for a toddler, not a grown woman. “But, Daddy…”
He has his shirt off now, but he hauls me between his legs and lifts my chin. “Would you like me to spank your bottom right here in front of everyone before we get in?”
I swallow. The flutters nearly make my legs buckle. “No, Sir,” I murmur. But I do. I want him to spank me right here by the pool. I want him to pull my swimsuit bottoms off and bare my bottom for everyone to see and spank me.
I’m stunned. My heart is racing. I don’t know what to make of my odd thoughts. Part of me considers pushing him so he will do exactly that. I want him to embarrass me. I’ve never felt anything like this before. It’s so foreign I’m frozen in my spot.
My cheeks are heating while I try to process my emotions. I can’t breathe right. Foster is looking at me so strangely that I glance down and then lean forward so my head rests on his chest.
He slides an arm around me and holds me against him, kissing the top of my head. “Sweetie…”
I grab onto his thighs because I need an anchor. I force myself to breathe. In. Out. I can’t. I can’t do this. I’m suffocating.
Foster tries to urge me to lean back. I know he wants to see my face. I can’t look at him. He snags a towel from the table and wraps it around me, probably because I’m shivering.
“Can I lift you onto my lap, Amelia?” His voice is so kind and gentle.
I shake my head. I just need a minute so I can join everyone else. Right? But a minute passes and nothing changes. I’m going to hyperventilate.
Foster keeps rubbing my back. He’s being perfect. He’s protecting me. From me, I think. I’m sure I’m freaking him out. But I’m freaking me out. And I need to be alone. I need to get away from this entire situation. From him and the others and myself.
I’m not making sense in my head. And it won’t stop. My bombarding emotions are overwhelming me. I jerk back, knowing I have to get out of here. “I need to go.”
He nods. “Okay. I’ll take you back to the cabin.”
I shake my head. “No. Foster. I need to go alone. Please. Just…give me some space.”
The muscles in his jaw tighten. I know the Daddy in him hates this idea, but I need to be alone.
“You have to let me go, Foster. It’s not up for debate. I promise I’ll be fine. I just can’t…breathe.”
He hesitates and then nods. “You’ll be in my cabin?”
“Yes.”
“It’s unlocked.”
“Okay.” I tug the towel around me and shuffle past the pool and down the path without looking at anyone. I’m grateful no one calls out to me. I don’t think I can respond.