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CHAPTER SIX
Max
“I just don’t understand her,” I say.
Cliff rolls his eyes and Timothy and Val laugh. Eric doesn’t laugh and I wonder why. At the moment, we’re all at a barbecue at his house. The Daddies are in the backyard and the little girls are in the house coloring, playing games, watching movies, and giggling.
Eric says, “What do you mean?”
I say, “Daisy is in there with all the other littles.”
“Oh!” Cliff says. “Yeah. Wow. Can’t understand that at all.”
“Asshole,” I say. “What I mean is, she’s there and she loves DDlg. I don’t know if she’s a natural little or if she just enjoys it. I don’t know. All I know is we’ve been together for almost four months now. Four months and she’s the exact same girl as she was when we met.”
“Fuck,” Eric says, “you should just drop that bitch.”
I stare at him in shock and actually start to stand up before I control myself. Then, I sigh and say, “You weren’t actually calling her a bitch.” Eric just stares at me. “Can you drop the wise teacher act and just tell me what the hell it is, you think I should know?”
He says, “In my experience, there are a couple of different kinds of Daddies. There are rescuers. Tim here’s a rescuer.”
“Guilty,” Tim says.
“I guess most Daddies are rescuers,” Eric continues, “and I guess that’s why a lot of littles are damaged, a little or a lot before they start in this lifestyle. Then, you have guys like me and you. We’re more like mentors than rescuers. We tend to be Daddies who help girls to grow.” He looks at Cliff and Timothy. “That doesn’t mean you don’t help your girls grow. Sometimes that’s what the rescuing requires. Usually, though, you need to get your girls to a starting point. I don’t mean you two, in particular, just rescuers.”
“You won’t get an argument from me about that,” Timothy says.
Cliff says, “Yeah, I’m attracted to a girl in trouble.”
Eric says, “But the truth is, we mentors are rescuers, too. We just rescued our little girls from stasis. We help them grow to rescue them from…” He shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess, from never growing. You following me?”
“I think so,” I say.
“So you see this girl. She’s beautiful. She has an innocent kind of air to her. She’s living in her camper with no prospects. You immediately see a girl who needs rescuing. But she isn’t running from a past and hasn’t had a traumatic experience. She’s eager and loving. She’s just not damaged. She’s beautiful and excited to be your little girl. She’s not interested in growing.”
“Wait,” Timothy says, “She’s not interested?”
I nod. “Sorry. I mean, I’ve had a lot of conversations with him. He has more background.”
“So she’s content?” Timothy asks.
“She says she is,” I reply. “It’s like she spends her whole life in little space. I mean, she says she makes what she needs to make, and she doesn’t want any more than what she has. I haven’t been able to figure out what she’s running from.”
The conversation is cut short when a number of girls rush out the back door headed for us. “Little girl attack!” Brittney screams. She leaps on Timothy’s lap and kisses him all over his face. A number of other girls do the same for their Daddies and in a second, Daisy’s on my lap kissing me all over. A few seconds later, they all leap up, giggling and laughing. As they run back, Brittney calls, “All the sides are done, Daddy!”
“Thank you, princess!” Timothy calls after them. He looks at me and says, “To be continued.”
We stand and head outside to help Timothy bring the steaks in. We bring the food in and Timothy leaves to tell the little girls to wash up for dinner. A few minutes later, we’re all sitting around the table while Brittney serves everyone steak, mashed potatoes, and roasted vegetables. Daisy chats happily with the other little girls and every few minutes pauses to give me a kiss on the cheek.
We talk about various things. It’s all light conversation, and everyone’s clearly just enjoying the chance to spend time with one another. I do my best to put my concerns aside and just enjoy dinner with everyone else but I can’t quite shake the feeling that I’m not doing my job as a Daddy.
How can she be content to live the way she is? I don’t think there’s anything inherently wrong with being poor and I even approve of her choice to live in a camper and save money instead of living in an apartment and having no money to save, but I can’t understand why anyone would be satisfied staying there. It’s like she took the first step to an established life and then just stayed there instead of crossing the rest of the steppingstones.
After dinner, I take her back to her camper. She leans on my shoulder and smiles affectionately up at me as we drive. “Thank you, Daddy,” she says. “I had a lot of fun tonight.”
“I’m glad,” I reply with a smile. “Everyone seemed to love hanging out with you, too.”
She nods. “Yeah, Gwen and her friends are really nice. So are their Daddies. I’m glad I’m getting to know everyone.”
