Chapter Two

Nick

Chained was the ideal place for a daddy to meet other daddies and share experiences. Or just eat the delicious food and have a drink. Of course, the little room was a home away from home for many. And I spent my share of evenings in there playing with the single littles who wanted someone for a night or a couple of nights.

With all the travel I did for work, I didn’t have time for more. Each year, when I received my hire-date review in December, I hoped for a promotion that would allow me to stay closer to home. The supervisor level, just above mine, had recently become vacant. It was one involving no more than one trip a month, meaning, I’d be close to home and spending far less time breathing airplane air and eating in restaurants.

Of course, I enjoyed a good meal out as much as the next man, but I missed home cooking. Even mine. Which nobody would ever call gourmet.

“Hudson has been all about those new ducky-nuggies lately,” Bridger was saying. This evening, my first day back in town, I was lounging in the conversation area of Chained. Several groupings of sofas and chairs and low tables housed those who wanted to socialize more than play.

Although I joined for the daddy/little activities, the club provided a haven for just about any kink a person could imagine. Their only real rules were that all activities be consensual and no harm allowed. I had never seen any of the very unhygienic scenes, likely due to their concern for members’ health.

From where we sat, a few other daddies and their littles and I, I could see the St. Andrew’s cross, the spanking bench, and the fire play station. Although none of those things were to my taste, the artistry of the doms and their willing subs was infinitely watchable.

“Lane is off nuggies entirely. I haven’t ever known a little to do that, but I wonder if he’d like the ducks? He ate so many dinos, he probably just overdid. But he does like boneless wings with different dipping sauces.” Elio took a sip of his martini, shaking his head. “Right, my sweetest boy?”

Lane, cuddling a kitten stuffie, smiled up at his daddy. “And apple slices.”

“Ah yes, I can’t forget that. If an apple a day keeps the doctor away, you should be safe from medical appointments for about twenty years.”

His little bobbed his head. “I don’t like getting sick.”

The conversation naturally merged into taking care of littles and their varying needs while Hudson and Lane and their friends pushed trucks around on the floor. A server brought a tray of nibbles and set it on the low table in front of the daddies. Half was more geared to the grown-ups and the rest to the littles.

Everything at Chained was nicely done, including their food, and I reached for a cracker topped with goat cheese and red pepper jelly. It wasn’t home cooking, but it was very good. And the big/little platter tonight had a holiday theme.

“Tiny hot dog reindeers!” Hudson held one up to show Bridger. “Look, Daddy, they have antlers.”

His daddy bent down to admire the mini dogs wrapped in biscuit dough with pretzel antlers and a face made out of some sort of veggie bits. “Looks tasty.”

“Have a bite!”

Having a little in some cases meant sharing “bites” of just about everything, and Bridger was a good sport about it. Of course, they also had a big relationship, so they had a higher degree of intimacy than many. Watching them together was such a pleasure, it threatened to topple my independence. I spent a whole lot of time convincing myself that I was perfectly fine without having a little of my own. And mostly I believed it.

How fair would it be to a little who had to be alone most of the time while his daddy traveled the United States and even farther afield than that. And that would be bad enough if it was just a daddy/little relationship. I wanted more. I wanted what my friends had. Before I came to Chained, I’d only known people who separated the aspects of their lives. And some of those here did as well, but most of my close friends had a complete relationship with their littles.

Something I couldn’t do with someone I played with once or twice.

We all sat around for a while, sipping cocktails and talking about daddy/little stuff but also our jobs and world news and all the things anyone discussed with friends. These were my friends. We had a lot in common beyond our interest in the lifestyle.

The club was decorated for the holidays with a subtle elegance, but the little room stood out for its bright colors and complete lack of subtlety. And glitter. So much glitter. For much of the year, Miss Lily and her staff tried to keep the sparkly bits to a minimum, but as the holidays neared and excess ruled, there was nothing the littles demanded more of than their very favorite craft item.

This meant the daddies would have their work cut out for them when they got home. And their cars would need a post-holiday detailing.

“Shall we go to the little room?” Elio stood and held a hand out to Lane. “I think there are some fun games tonight.”

His little hopped up and accepted his hold. “Yes, please, Daddy. I want to play with my friends. And with you, of course.”

“Of course.” Elio shook his head. “It’s hard to compete with a dozen or more excited little boys and girls with Christmas on the horizon.”

“Will Santa be there?” Hudson asked, tucking the cars he’d been playing with into his pockets. “I need to tell him what I want for Christmas.”

Bridger also stood up. “Not tonight but soon. Do you have a long list?”

“I was very good this year.”

The two pairs disappeared into the middle of the main club room, the littles completely adorable. Hudson’s holiday duckie onesie paired with knee socks and jingle-bell sneakers was every bit as cute as Lane’s holiday kitty tee and short shorts. He also had knee socks, his patterned with candy canes and polar bears.

What would a little of mine wear? Some daddies would say whatever he told them to, but I liked the littles I played with to express their own creativity. After all, it was their personality that drew me. Why wouldn’t I want that fully expressed?

The other daddies and their littles drifted off to the little room, leaving me alone with the empty platter and a lot of glassware. Our server came over and piled everything on the tray and took it all away, leaving just my solo glass.

Talk about emphasizing my solitude. Oh, there would be single littles in the little room, but watching the interplay between my friends and their littles, I just didn’t have the heart to go play with a rando. They would be cute, too, but it wasn’t the same.

So, I headed for the front door and retrieved my phone on the way out. I checked the received calls and texts to find a notification that my review would be the next morning. I looked over my shoulder, although my friends were in the little room by now. If I got the supervisor position, I’d be more stable and travel so much less. What might that mean for my life?