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CHAPTER TWO
Roger
I arrive at her house about fifteen minutes after I call, and even though I plan to ease into my reason for being there, the moment I see her, I say, “I’d like to take you out tonight.”
I can’t help myself. Chrissy is beautiful. Also, the girl looks like she’s going to explode from excitement. She’s almost trembling, so filled with nervous energy that there is a dramatic amount of effort just to stand still. She looks lovely. I know she’s very interested in the lifestyle, and I understand how that interest manifests. I doubt she dresses the way she did before she heard about DDlg.
She wears a very cute cotton shirt. It’s pink with a ruffled white collar and there is a teddy bear picture on it. The bear has wide, expressive eyes and a cute smile. She wears pink leggings and white tennis shoes with pink trim. Her nails are painted pink as well. She has her hair in pigtails and the pigtails are secured with pink ribbons.
Apart from the outfit, the girl is simply beautiful.
“What do you say?” I ask. Then, just because I want to see how she reacts to a DDlg term, I add, “Do you want to have dinner with me, little girl?”
The words little girl impact her. Her eyes open a little bit wider, and I can see beautiful flecks of gold among the green. She’s just lovely. She nods, barely containing a smile.
“Use your words,” I say, just slightly sternly.
Her mouth parts and she lets out a sigh in response to the very mild correction. “Yes, Sir,” she says. “I would like to have dinner with you.” She says the words almost breathlessly and it isn’t easy to just stand there when what I want to do is just gather her up in my arms. She also says Sir in a way that indicates to me it means more than any polite or respectful appellation.
She used Sir the way a submissive uses it to call her Dominant by that word.
Sir.
Master.
Daddy.
Of course, some people just use names and it’s also possible I’m just full of desire for Chrissy and therefore read into the situation when I shouldn’t. Who knows? The important thing is that she just agreed to the date. I offer her my arm and she seems slightly panicked as she looks down over her body and up to me and says, “I need to get ready!”
I shake my head. “You look beautiful, Chrissy. You don’t need anything other than your keys. Dinner is on me.”
“You don’t want me to make myself look nice for you?” she asks.
If she were already my little girl, I might correct her for dancing on the edge of being self-deprecating. She’s not yet though. I say, “I said you look beautiful already, Chrissy. I don’t think you would ever have to do anything to make yourself look nice. It’s just natural. You just told me you wanted to come with to dinner. We’re going to the car right now.” I put just a taste of sternness in my tone to see how she reacts.
She blushes deeply.
Her lips part and she lets out a half-sigh.
She steps onto the porch and takes my arm.
The evening is lovely. Hell, the evening is more than lovely. We talk a great deal about the lifestyle, focusing on different ways people enjoy it. Some girls enjoy wearing diapers. I had a little girl who did. She told me it kept her in little space all the time. Other girls don’t enjoy that at all but they very much enjoy making absolutely no day-to-day decisions about things like what they’ll eat or what they get to watch on television and such.
Some couples like brat play, which simply means the woman enjoys behaving like a bratty little girl and the man loves struggling to control her behavior. There are some couples who enjoy the lifestyle not as a lifestyle, so to speak, but instead for limited amounts of time. For example, Sunday through Friday, they might be Norman and Carol. On Saturday, they’re Daddy and little girl. The bottom line is that no single recipe does the trick because people are different and couples are different.
She’s fascinated by all of it, and I don’t know that I can remember any little girl in my history who is near to as exciting to me as Chrissy. I give her kiss at the end of the night and drive home desperate for more.
And I get more.
We go out the next night as well, and she’s filled with questions about DDlg and about BDSM in general. I realize she’s gone online and read some things since our date. She’s the rare kind of individual who researches things and comes to conclusions. Most of her conclusions are about whether she wants to try and see if she feels the same way.
There’s no one way to do DDlg or, for that matter, any sort of relationship. Many people new to the lifestyle think everything is a hard fast rule. Chrissy is very bright, and I think her intelligence drives her curiosity and her restraint.
I take her out a few days later and I can tell she’s done more research. This girl is amazing. She’s reliant on me for direction and understanding but she takes the initiative as well. It’s wonderful to have a woman to call, “little girl,” and it’s wonderful to hear her call me, “Daddy.”
I correct her when she shows a lack of confidence and I encourage her when she behaves confidently. After two weeks, I start actually thinking it’s time to think of this as a relationship and not just some dates. I mull over what I might or might not want to say to her. One thing is certain, though. I enjoy her company more than I can express and that means there’s a real basis for a relationship.
I hate to be adamant when other people are involved but I’m not willing to engage in any half measures. Either there is something here with the potential for it to be permanent or there isn’t. I need to know. Not knowing yet is what keeps me from sleeping with her. I want to sleep with her. I want that more than anything but I can’t do that if it hurts either of us. There has to be more.
Now, I just need to find the best way to express that to her.
But I don’t have to figure it out at all because that night she broaches the subject.
