Chapter Fourteen

Gray

Since our first time being daddy/little together, we had added a visit to Chained to our weekly schedule. It was a relaxing social occasion, meeting with friends and usually winding up playing for a while in the little room before heading home. He had been a member for some time, but we hadn't connected before. I couldn't help but love our cute meet. It made my daddy soul happy that I'd been able to help him find his train that day. I'd ordered the holster almost right after that, but the craftsman was in high demand, and after we'd determined "helping" me to make it myself was not going to work, I'd gone to the end of the queue and only gotten it in time for our trip.

There had been so much excitement on the Day of Two Cabooses, as it would forever go down in history, that London hadn't even noticed the embossed locomotive on the front. He wore it every chance he got, although most of his little clothes didn't have a belt it could slip over, so I was trying to work with the designer to come up with a plan for that. At this point, the holster and train rested in the changing room with our things. It was easy for toys to get lost in the little room anyway, so until we came up with a good way for him to wear it, we agreed it could stay behind. It wasn't as if there weren't other trains to play with. The Chained littles all had different interests, but I hadn't met one yet who didn't enjoy trains at least a bit. That's why the event was such a huge success. That and the funds it raised for a good cause. I appreciated that the club I belonged to was populated by members with such good and giving hearts. We'd raised money for kids and animals and the homeless and the local food pantry and so many other causes, it made me proud. And yet they did it without ever making people feel pressured to give.

Tonight was just a regular club night, and I looked forward to coming all week. We pulled up and parked, and I went around to the back to get out London's new train-themed backpack. It had been in the clearance bin at the local we-sell-everything store, and he got an extra kick out of the deep discount. I still didn't understand how it ended up in the bin, but I liked getting a deal as much as the next daddy.

Backpack slung over one shoulder, I opened the door for London. "Ready to have fun?"

"Sure." He got out. "I don't know if I want to dress tonight."

"Whatever you like." So far, he had always changed, but there were always a few littles who didn't on any given night. And he already looked pretty adorable in a tight-fitting train tee and the jeans that looked painted onto his perfect butt. Adorable and hot. "We have a changing room booked, so we might as well go in and leave the backpack there. Then if you change your mind, we can just pop in and take care of business. Okay?"

He shrugged. "That's fine."

"You feel all right?"

"Yes, I'm good."

Since I didn't know where to go with that, I decided to be patient and let him work out whatever he was thinking about. If it was important or he needed help, he'd talk to me eventually. Sometimes he just needed his own mind space, and that was fair enough. I felt the same way on occasion.

When we got into the changing room, he paused. It was one of my favorites with the animal theme and had recently been refreshed with a new mural of those frosted animal cookies with sprinkles doing all kinds of cute things, like jumping off a diving board into a pool and riding on other animals on a carousel and holding hands and dancing in a circle. Whoever the muralist was for Chained, they had a true gift. There were several pieces of furniture in here, including a crib and changing table, in adult size of course, and also a big comfy chair where a daddy or mommy could cuddle their little. "I think I will change." He didn't sound too sure, but I wasn't going to argue. We could always come back in and put his big clothes on again. "But I want to wear this shirt."

"That's fine. With your shorts and socks?"

"And my big-boy underwear." Which translated to the thick training pants style. No diapers tonight.

"Perfect."

I helped him out of his shoes and socks and unbuttoned his jeans, working them down over his hips. Many times, this would be the time we did a little bit of sensual play, but he was not asking or mentioning it, so I was holding back too. Hopefully once he was dressed and among friends, he'd relax and enjoy the evening. Just playing for a while could really take the edge off worries sometimes.

With that in mind, after we left the changing room, I suggested we go to the little room and maybe do a puzzle or read a book. "Okay, Daddy."

I was batting zero here and starting to feel a little like I was not doing my job. When we got into the little room, London wandered from one station to another, never settling down like he usually did to play with the other boys and girls. I perched on one of the chairs at the edge of the room and let him do his thing for a while, but he just wasn't having fun.

And, more than that, despite calling me daddy, he had not gone into little space. And, after he circled the room a couple of times, I waved him over and settled him on my lap. "How about a story?" He usually loved being read to, and if there was a group story hour was always in the front row sitting criss-cross applesauce on the rug in front of the reader.

"I don't…no, no story." He fidgeted, unable to sit still, and this daddy was running low on all the understand and patience. My little conductor had a right to his own mind and was not required to spill anything he didn't want to, but watching him so obviously miserable was hard. And worrying. He'd had things on his mind before but never quite like this.

And it was time to do what a good daddy, by my definition, would do. I stood up, set him on his feet, and took his hand. "Let's go."

"But I don't want to go home yet."

"We don't have to go home, but we are going to the changing room where we will have a talk." I led him down the hall and through the various areas, holding a firm grip on his hand. When we passed the conversation area where several of our friends sat, I waved but did not slow my steps. It was time to find out what was making my good boy such a sad boy—and seemingly unable to be the boy he needed to be when stress rode him like this.

I ran over everything in my mind that could be the problem but came up with nothing. Maybe he had a bad day at work? But why wouldn't he share that with me? He had in the past. It was with relief that I closed the changing room door behind us and led London over to the chair. I sat down but did not gather him into my lap just yet. Rather, I stood him in front of me and leaned back in the chair. "Okay, want to tell Daddy what's wrong?" It would always be his choice whether to tell me anything, but this dragging around and pouting…he would talk, or we would go home. He was clearly not having fun. "I can't stand to see you so sad and not be able to help."