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UNNAMED BOY
The next day
I leapinto the stuffy pit and press Ernie to my chest. Stuffed animals brush against my skin, cradling me in their cuddly arms. I bury myself beneath the surface, relishing in the amazing sensations.
I never held stuffies in my cage. Ernie was the one exception my captors allowed me, and even then, they regulated our time together. This place where Benedetto brought me today is a dream come true.
"Wow." I pop my head above the stuffies. "This is so much fun."
Arlo grins. "I knew you'd enjoy it. My Daddy wanted to know if you’d like to join us, and I told him you would."
Rusty nods in agreement. "We could tell you'd have a blast by the way you played with Pickles yesterday. You're a natural Little."
I bite my lower lip as I try to think of what Rusty means. But I can't. I decide to ask him.
"What’s a Little?" I genuinely don’t know.
Rusty lets out a chuckle. "A Little is an adult who still plays with kid things. They love stuffed animals, slumber parties, and unlimited bowls of ice cream."
My tummy rumbles thinking about ice cream. I picture a giant bowl of mint chocolate chip and let out a groan. I can still taste the yummy treat Benedetto bought me at Dairy Queen.
He’s so stinking nice. He totally didn’t need to buy me ice cream that day; Lord knows my captors wouldn’t have. It meant so much to me, and I wanted to plant a big smooch on his lips.
Arlo glares at Rusty. "You're leaving out the important part."
Rusty cracks his neck. "I don't know if I should tell him this."
"Tell me." I take a step toward Rusty. "I want to know."
"My Daddy said you just came out of a traumatic situation." Rusty blows out a breath. "I don't want to overwhelm you."
"Look, bucko." I pick up an adorable heart plushie. "I'm a survivor. Even though I don't remember doing it, I think I've killed someone. I’m not some delicate victim you have to treat with kid gloves."
"I understand." Arlo nods earnestly.
I let out a sigh. "These past few years were tough as hell for me. I didn't know what the men who owned me would force me to do, but I pushed through. I did what they asked and I survived."
"I know that." Arlo massages my shoulder. "My Daddy told me."
"The point is," I continue, digging my feet into the floor of the stuffy pit, "I can get through a simple conversation about Littles. It'll be a walk in the park."
Arlo wags his finger in Rusty’s face. "He makes a good point."
Rusty rolls his eyes. "A Little is also someone who likes to fuck their Daddy. The ice cream and stuffies are only part of it."
"I know what a Daddy is. I had some experience with that in the warehouse."
Unfortunately, poor Ollie was my temporary Daddy and I dumped all my problems on him. Now that I consider it, I don't know how he dealt with that. He was already going through trauma, and I treated him like my therapist. It wasn't fair because he was in the same position as me.
"Was your Daddy good or bad?"
"Mine was good." I picture Ollie's kind face, benevolent and nice, always ready to listen to me. Well, except for when he was in one of his moods. When a client pissed him off, he wasted no time in plotting how to murder them. I don't think he ever followed through, but he definitely harbored violent instincts. But who wouldn't after being in captivity for so long? It's natural… right? "He was my friend Ollie. He was a little younger than me, but he took on the role of my protector."
"Good." Arlo tosses me an alien stuffy. "So you know what a Daddy is."
"We like to have sex with our Daddies who protect us.” Rusty flashes me a rakish grin. “It turns us on."
"Sex is a big part of Daddy and Little relationships." Arlo nods sagely. "Not every Little has sex with their Daddy—some relationships are platonic—but many enjoy it."
