Page 4 of Brock’s Lost Lunchbox

I’m leaving now.

I’ll meet you there.

If he was leaving now, I didn’t have time to go home and grab my little things. At least I hadn’t stopped by the freezer section to get the waffles yet. Nothing in my cart required refrigeration, meaning that if the traffic fairies were on my side, we’d arrive at the same time.

I tried to think if I had any little clothes left in the car from past outings. I didn’t. What I did have was an extra set of work clothes, and they wouldn’t work. I wasn’t a daddy, and they were much more daddy coded than anything remotely little.

I’d pulled up my phone to see if there were any places along the way I could snag something close enough to fit in, when I saw a reminder from my gym that I’d been neglecting them. It was a membership I locked into before work got so intense, and I was really smart and signed up for three years to get a discount only to never get there anymore. The notification reminded me I still had a gym bag. I told myself if it was in the car, I could hit the gym on the way home on nights I got out early. And that was true, if early nights existed.

My gym outfit was always the same—a crop top and workout shorts. I wouldn’t call them little coded, but they were much closer than work clothes and were clean. They would have to do.

I wouldn’t look like the other littles, but Ms. Lily wouldn’t care. And there was no “little” way to dress, not really. Some would have onesies and leg warmers on. Others would be sporting short shorts and fitted tees. Others might don some pajamas or twirly dresses or costumes that represented their favorite cartoon character or storybook character. There was always a variety.

Traffic was on my side, and I got there quickly and went digging for my gym bag underneath all my purchases. It was a mess, and I knocked the paper towels out twice and a bottle of dishwasher soap, once. It was safe to say, I was a little excited at the moment and not as focused as I needed to be.

My phone lit up. It was Sammy.

Where are you?

He was probably waiting for me at check-in.

On my way, I just had to grab clothes out of my gym bag.

Might as well prepare him for what I’d be wearing. He wouldn’t care. He wasn’t that kind of person. There were littles who came together and coordinated their outfits. I’d done that a time or two with friends, and it was fun, but definitely not a necessity for me. Sammy was the same way.

Clothes in hand, I jogged inside where Sammy greeted me with a hug. Despite not having everything I’d normally like to have when playing, I was already feeling like I was exactly where I needed to be. Thank you, broken water main.

Chapter Four

Zeph

“Okay, you’ve got me here.” I looked around the spot where we sat, a comfortable seating area with couches, chairs, and low tables. “So, now what do I do?”

Will chuckled. “Well, whatever you like. Your guest pass for the evening is all-inclusive.”

Immediately around us were a number of other people, sitting around and eating snacks, having cocktails, and generally socializing. “But as for me, when my Sammy gets back from the changing room, we’ll be going to the little room.”

Did I want to do that? Certainly more than any of the activities currently within my line of vision. The conversation area lay just off the main club floor where dungeon furniture made up a series of stations. More like what the average person might expect to find at a kink club, they held spanking benches, a St. Andrew’s cross, and something I thought was called a spiderweb. In all my research for daddy/little relationships, I’d gone down a lot of rabbit holes on the internet. Not out of real interest but curiosity. And as I sat there on the sofa, chatting with the daddies from the munches I’d attended, as well as others I’d just met, I learned things.

Like…a lot of the videos I watched that included things like spanking benches were pretty accurate. Oh, there were style differences, and some of the folks at Chained wore less-extreme outfits, but in general, they spanked with hands, floggers, and other tools, reddening the bottoms of eagerly writhing, groaning, and begging submissives.

The spiderweb currently held a young man wearing only a cloth draped over his jutting cock. The dom scening with him flicked him with the tongue of a whip that had to be six-feet long. A dungeon monitor, wearing a fitted black T-shirt stood nearby, keeping passersby from getting too close. There were several monitors strolling around the floor, but certain stations merited their full attention.

“If someone got too close, they could lose an eye,” Will said. “They have to make special arrangements to even use it.”

“It does look dangerous.” The long lash snapped through the air before kissing the skin of the submissive, and I winced. “I don’t think I’d enjoy that.” At. All.

“Me either, which is why we don’t do that.” Will stood up and straightened the seams of his pants. “Here comes Sammy now.” He chuckled. “When we got here, he wanted to wear just the onesie, but now he’s added the short shorts. We always bring options.”

“Does he usually change himself?”

He shrugged. “No, but sometimes he makes minor adds or deletions on his own, if we’re using the group changing room. He likes to surprise me.”

Sammy arrived in front of us and gave a little spin. “Good, Daddy?”

“Perfect!” He held out a hand and took his little’s. “Want to come with us to the little room?”

“Yes, but I need to go out to the car for a minute. I’ll meet you there.”