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Inside the entrance lobby, everything was pine. The scent was wonderful. It smelled almost like being in a coastal forest, with everything resinous and fresh and sumptuous. The walls seemed to be made of felled tree trunks.
“This place was built, in the main, by Dwight North. I wouldn’t expect a Brit to know him.”
“I don’t, Sir.”
“He was a famous bull-rider, cowboy, and at times, rodeo clown.”
“We don’t really have rodeos in England.”
We have crumpets and scones and high tea.
“Understood.” Even though Takis was the boss, the owner of the whole ranch, he’d insisted on taking her bags from her, and was carrying them with ease over his broad back. He was massive. From the limited googling she’d done, Takis used to be some kind of martial arts fighter, who made his fortune running a chain of successful gyms. Made sense that he’d be well-built.
“Follow me.”
He led her around to the left, to a door-lined corridor. Above was a skylight, so the space was bright and inviting. There was a pot stuffed with sunflowers, geraniums, and marigolds at the end of the corridor.
“I like the flowers.”
“I’ll tell Bunny,” Takis grinned. “She’ll be pleased you like them.”
“Sir, is Bunny your… Little?”
“She is. You can meet her later if you wish. In your reference, Master Derek mentioned that you were interested in exploring your own Little side. We have plenty of facilities here for those who wish to spend time in Little Space.”
“I’m not a Little.”
There it was again, her anxiety making her spurt something out.
“Either way, it’s not a problem. I’m sure Bunny can talk to you about age play if you like. If not, you’re still more than welcome here. Ah, here’s your room.”
He unlocked the solid wood door and it swung open gently.
The room was beautiful, with a gorgeous four-poster bed and clearly hand-crafted furniture, tastefully chosen to emphasize comfort and homeliness.
All of that paled in comparison to the view from the generous window. She could see the corral, full of horses, and the sky, empty of clouds. She let out a long, slow breath, feeling her anxiety ebb away, just for a moment.
“Come on, little one. There’s much more to see.”
Takis was telling the truth. The ranch was much wider in scope and ambition than Millie had realized.
When Master Derek — the founder of Rawhide Ranch — had sat her down to speak to her about the opportunity at Littlecreek, he’d been at pains to emphasize just how rough and ready the place would be.
It was true — the place was still a work in progress, but there was so much potential. Not for the first time, Millie was struck by how different the place was to an English farm, or even a stable. Takis walked her around the ranch, showing her all of the various working buildings. Barns, a shooting range (something they definitely didn’t have in the UK), as well as a little building called the Quiet Cabin.
“When things get too intense,” he explained, “Littles can come here — with or without their Daddies or Mommies — to decompress. Or at least that’s the plan, after it’s all decorated.”
Millie looked around the cabin. It was a simple, wooden building, but it was mostly empty. She was sure that when it was all full of Little stuff it would be an extremely inviting place.
“Mr. Karas, can I ask you something?”
“Anything.”
“What exactlyisthis place?”
“The Quiet Cabin?”
“The ranch.”
