Chapter 6

Mandi had messed up.She knew it. You didn't call people by honorifics without speaking to them about it first. But she'd felt so small and…

She'd felt small.

She'd felt Little.

All of a sudden, she wanted to jump up and down and sing. She'd found her Little! Her Little wasn't lost, not completely, just hibernating. And then she looked up at the woman who made her feel safe being Little, and sighed. What if she'd messed up completely, and Miss Grayson didn't want to look after her after all. What if she never got to be Little again?

The hand holding hers squeezed again. "Stop panicking. I can hear your brain snakes."

"My brain snakes?"

"Yes, the squirrelly bits of your brain that say horrible things to you, and make you doubt yourself and your actions. Brain snakes slithering around. Two-forked tongues flickering about and hissing vile things into our hearts." She gave an exaggerated shudder that echoed exactly how Mandi felt at such an image before adding, "Even us Bigs get them." She looked down at Mandi and smiled. "I'm not angry and I'm not cross; I just want us to have a grown-up conversation about what we want this to be, so we're both on the same page."

Then she squeezed Mandi's hand again, before the brain snakes could resume their hissing. "And just to be clear, for any residual brain snakes, I liked it. When you called me Mommy."

Mandi had liked it too. It had felt right. It had never quite felt that right before, and she realized she wanted to cling on to that with both hands.

But all that was shoved aside when she walked into the Littles' Library and saw all of the books.

Shelves and shelves and shelves full of lovely books. Her eyes sparkled and then she was off running to look at this display here and that pile of boardgames over there. The library was big and safe and she couldn't help the happy wiggles that escaped. She ran up and down the stacks, and it wasn't until she paused, panting in the center of the room, that she noticed Miss Grayson leaning against the checkout counter and smiling at her.

"I know," Mandi said, contritely. "Grown-up conversation to be had. But I couldn't help it. Look at the books!"

The librarian huffed a laugh and then beckoned her over to what Mandi assumed was the librarian's office.

"Now normally," said Miss Grayson, "I wouldn't recommend having this kind of conversation in your workplace, but Rawhide is slightly different, and I know you're here on a trial run. And none of the Littles dare come in here when the door's shut, so we'll have plenty of privacy."

She led Mandi over to a dinky couch in the corner of the small office, and they sat down. "So, petal, what's going on with you?"

This time, for some reason, Mandi didn't have any problems with her words. They weren't stuttered out, and they weren't waterfalling out. "I think I went a bit Little."

"Mmhmm. And what do you think brought that on?"

She thought back to that moment in the corridor, and saw stern, cross faces. "I think I got a bit scared of Nanny J and Miss Price."

"Oh, pickle, scared?"

"They looked really cross!"

Miss Grayson took Mandi's hands in hers, and she felt the tension in her shoulders lessen, just a smidgeon. "Pranks are pretty commonplace in the Littles' Wing, and the Littles do them, knowing that the consequences are likely to be a red bottom once they're caught. They know and though they don't enjoy spanks in the moment, I have it on good authority that they don't mind them. They wouldn't be here if they did, or at least, it would be written into their agreement no spanks for them."

Mandi nodded slowly. "I don't think it's the idea of spanks that I mind, it's the idea of someone spanking because they're cross."

"Oh that's different. Very rarely do Bigs here spank when they're actually cross. If someone is really cross, we'd take a time out or some space, and calm down first. Usually, we'd only be really cross if the Littles were putting themselves or others in danger. The rest of the time we're just amused by their attempts at being sassy."

Mandi took a few minutes to process that, and she did admit that it made her feel much better to know that punishments weren't delivered in anger.

"I understand. But I don't think I realized that when I saw them, and they made me feel scared. They were really nice when they spoke to me though, and that made me feel bad about being scared."

"Oh, sweetheart," Miss Grayson brushed a curl from her face. "It's okay to feel scared sometimes. And if we know why, then we can decide about what to do with that information. Do you think that's why you called me Mommy? Because you were scared?"

Mandi nodded vigorously. "Yes, and you feel super safe, and I knew that if people were being really scary, you'd look after me."

"I would, petal, I really would."

"Ummm… Miss Grayson, how would you feel if I called you Mommy Grayson again? And maybe for my time here?"

The librarian paused, and Mandi braced herself for rejection. She could deal with it; it'd hurt, but she'd been through worse. It was just a small no, and small words didn't have to hurt and…

"I think I'd prefer it if you called me Mommy Amelia or just Mommy."

Oh. She hadn't been expecting that.

"Amelia? Is that your name?"

The blonde woman nodded. "Yes. Mommy Grayson sounds nice, but it's also really formal, and everyone calls me Miss Grayson. Some of the Tops, and Master Derek, call me Amelia sometimes, but it's usually Miss and my surname. If you're going to call me Mommy, I'd like you to use my first name."

"Mommy Amelia," Mandi tried it out. The words felt nice on her tongue, soft "Ms" bursting from pressed lips. "I like it. How… I mean… what… I mean…"

Mommy Amelia laughed. "Are you trying to ask what I'd like this dynamic to look like?"

Mandi smiled her agreement.

"Well, it's up to you really. Some Littles want to be babies, some want to be Little all the time, some want to slip in and out. Some want non-sexual kink and others want sexual-kink. It all depends on the person."

"What would you like?" Mandi asked, curious.

"Oh no," laughed Mommy Amelia, "You're too much of a people pleaser for me to answer that question. You're the Little; you set the boundaries."

Setting her own boundaries; wasn't that a novice concept.

"Can I think about it for a little while? This morning I thought I'd lost my Little forever, and now we're discussing a dynamic. I think I need to process it a bit first."

"Of course, petal," said Mommy Amelia, "you take as long as you need."