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“Nope. You’re so brave, standing up to Rip and everything.”
“Yeah, well, Rip’s a big bully,” said Mabel.
A big bully with a firm hand.
“You probably think we’re a bunch of cowards,” said Darcie, gesturing toward her fellow cast members, who were plaiting each other’s hair, softly singing nursery rhymes, and pretending that sticks had marshmallows on the end of them.
“I don’t think you’re cowards,” Mabel said. “I just think you’re all outside of your comfort zones here. It’s not every day a Little gets asked to be in a Western, firing a gun—”
“There must have been Littles in movies before, though. You think about any movie you ever saw, and I’ll bet at least one cast member was a secret Little,” said Darcie.
“Maybe,” said Mabel.
“It’s just a different feeling when we’re all together like this. It’s so easy to slip into Little Space. And so comforting. It doesn’t feel right to hold a gun when we’ve got that big comfort blanket pulled over us.”
“Do you think it’s something to do with being a sub?” Mabel found herself asking, all of a sudden.
“Being a sub?”
“Like, maybe somehow you feel like you’re not entitled to be the ones holding the weapons?”
“No, it’s not that,” said Darcie, grinning. “Subs are powerful. If anything, subs are the ones holding the imaginary weaponsall the time.”
“How so?” Mabel wrinkled her nose.
“Because we set the limits. Doms are just there to give us what we want in order to reach those limits.”
“Like… your slaves?”
“Well… kinda,” Darcie said, cocking her head to one side. “But, you know, a consensual slave. My last Dom used to get a sore hand from spanking my ass so often. That’s because I like to get spanked every day. Who do you think was serving who there?”
Mabel considered this. Was Darcie right? Were Doms really just there to serve their subs? To help them live out their fantasies? If so, maybe being a sub was more powerful than she’d thought.
“What happened to your Daddy in the end?” Mabel asked. “If you don’t mind me asking. Are you still with him?”
“He wasn’t my Daddy,” said Darcie. “You rarely meet a man who can be both a Daddyanda Dom. They either want to protect, protect, protect all day long… or they’re the ass-whooping type.”
Mabel thought about Rip. Was he the ass-whooping type? He hadliterallywhooped her ass. And yeah, she found it impossible to imagine him being a Daddy. In fact, she was almost certain that he hated the age play lifestyle.
“Well,” said Darcie with a yawn, “I’m gonna hit the hay. Thanks for a fun day today, Mabel. You’re a great leader.”
Darcie trudged off to her tent, leaving Mabel sitting on the log alone.
A great leader.
Maybe that’s what she was. A leader in her public life, a sub in her private life. Was that possible?
She found herself yawning too. She needed to sleep. She wondered if Rip was asleep yet, or if his group were still out walking. She’d bitten off more than she could chew with this contest. The Littles were so much slower than she’d anticipated, but it sort of didn’t matter. For the first time in a long while, Mabel had just gone with the flow. She’d enjoyed herself. She’d been content to just… be. For now, anyway.
“Yuck! Oatmeal!” shouted Lydia, when she rose from her tent.
“Not just any oatmeal,” said Mabel with a smile. “Acornoatmeal.”
One by one, the Littles stuck their heads out of their tents. They all wanted a glimpse of the acorn oatmeal that Mabel was about to serve them.
“It’s really quite tasty once you get used to the nutty flavor,” Mabel told them. “And Amy, if you have any of those blackberries left, they’ll go very well in this dish.”
“Um… I don’t…,” said Amy sheepishly. “They got eaten by… a stray horse?”
