Chapter Eleven

Willow

The days pass by excruciatingly slowly for me.

I'm doing a summer class but that isn't what's so agonizing. I still have plenty of time for typical college student fun stuff, even between school and work.

What's driving me crazy then, you ask?

He is.

Shawn.

I'm thinking about him constantly. I've driven by the surgery center so many times. It's freaking ridiculous. It's not like he's going to step outside for a break, see me, and wave me in or something. That's not what doctors do. He's too busy with important…surgery stuff. Fixing people. He's not pining away for me.

I work at a little store in the local mall. We're already putting out Christmas ornaments even though it's summer and like a hundred degrees outside. It's our big annual reveal, and we're pretty busy with the people dropping in and snatching up their favorites. I like the ornaments, too, and it keeps me employed. Summer is the slow time of year for cards. Graduations are over, along with Mother's and Father's Days, and Valentine's is a long way off. But luckily, the Christmas in July crowd is pretty enthusiastic.

At night, I either go home and do what little homework I have or hang out with Riley. Remember her? She's my bestie I told you about. The one who's a Little, too.

We actually met when I got active in the local Age Play scene.

She's over at my place now. We're sitting on my couch, munching on pizza, half-watching Red, White, and Royal Blue for the hundredth time.

"Wanna drive by his house?" she asks me.

I giggle, sounding like I'm back in middle school or something. "No!"

"But you know where he lives."

"Uh-huh."

"I bet you've done it."

I giggle again and nod.

"How many times?" she asks.

"A million," I admit.

Okay, so I'm exaggerating a bit, but not by much.

"So let's go now."

"What if he sees us or something?" I ask.

"Maybe he'd ask you to come in," Riley says.

"No way. It's been two weeks since I've seen him. If he was interested, he would have called by now."

"He's interested!" she says. "He wants to be your Daddy. You two kissed!"

"I kissed him," I remind her.

Riley shrugs. "Maybe. But he spanked you."

I blush and bob my head.

"In case you didn't know, men don't just go around spanking women," she says. "Unless they're your Daddy."

I groan and throw a pillow in frustration. It thuds against the wall and then falls harmlessly to the floor.

"Hey, the club is having a Littles' movie night," Riley says. "It starts at eight. Wanna go?"

I perk up at the suggestion. Being with other Littles does sound fun. And you-know-who might be there. He's been known to turn up at events.

"Let's go!" I say, standing quickly and hurrying toward my bedroom to get ready.

Maybe I'll see him tonight, even if it's just for a few minutes.

***

We go to the club's headquarters.

It's an old restaurant that sat vacant for a while until some folks in the local kink community decided to purchase and renovate it. They don't just do Little stuff here. In fact, the club's operators aren't even into Age Play. But they are lifestyle BDSM folks, so they understand the power exchange dynamic and offer a welcoming, accepting space. They're friendly to all kinks, as long as they're safe, sane and consensual.

The Littles organize events here a few times a month.

Riley and I walk past some spanking benches, a St. Andrew's cross, hanging implements like paddles, crops, and whips, and into a back room that is big, open, and has couches and chairs around a TV.

A cartoon is already playing. There are about six other Littles here. Four of them are holding stuffies. Two have pacifiers in their mouths. A couple are in footed pajamas, but some are in outfits like shortalls or simple shorts and tees. I can tell from the bulges beneath their clothes—and the tell-tale crinkle I hear when some shift—that more than a couple are in diapers.

I'm in one, too.

Don't judge me, please.

Being Little just puts me in a happy space. A carefree place where all the troubles and stresses of life just sorta melt away.

I'm holding the stuffie Shawn bought me back at Buc-ee's. It's become my go-to one.

I'm wearing shorts and a pink tee that says LOOKING FOR DADDY in white, cursive letters. I know, it's a bit forward, but I found this shirt online and just couldn't resist. Maybe I should have one specially made that says WAITING FOR SHAWN.

I'll be waiting a long time, because it's never going to happen.

"Hey, Riley and Willow are here," Timmy says.

Timmy is one of the Littles who frequents the club. He's older than me, probably about 30, and has dark hair. He's pretty strong, like he works out a lot, but at his core, he's uber Little. Like me. He has a Daddy who is probably around here somewhere.

"Hey, welcome, girls," Lila says.

She's even older than Timmy, and might be pushing 40, but identifies as a Middle on the Age Play scale. No diapers for her, but she loves to color, play, and get into plenty of mischief.

"What movie's playing tonight?" Riley asks.

"The Princess and the Frog," Lila says. "But first, we're watching some Bugs Bunny cartoons."

We find empty spots and plop down. But I'm not focused on the show. I'm still thinking about Shawn.

Will he show up tonight?

I have my answer about ten minutes later. Three figures walk in from the kitchen, carrying trays of drinks and snacks.

Shawn is one of them.

My heart skips a beat. I try to act as casual as possible, but it's so freaking hard not to jump up and throw my arms around him.

He's here! Daddy's here!

He notices me and I can see something flash across his eyes. It looked like joy. For a few seconds, anyway. Now, though, it looks like he's trying hard to appear impassive.

So, we're going to do this dance, huh? Both trying to act nonchalant while inside we want each other.

Great.

I shouldn't complain, though. At least I'm finally around him again. I've longed for this for the past two weeks! It's all I've thought about.

"Snacks and drinks for everyone," the woman in the lead says.

Her name is Marsha and she's one of the Mommies who volunteers here at the club. She's probably 45 or so, and has thick, dark hair that comes to her shoulders.

She hands me a drink—in a sippy cup, of course—and then moves down the row, until everyone gets one.

Shawn comes by next, passing out cookies.

"Hey, Willow," he says in that deep, rich voice. He's trying so hard not to sound excited. I can tell.

At least, that's what I want to believe.

Maybe he isn't excited. Maybe he has zero feelings for me.

Or maybe he's freaking out inside right now just as much as I am.

"Hi," I say. "How have you been."

"Good. Glad you're here," he says.

He keeps moving, passing out the cookies to the other awaiting Littles.

That's it? That's all he has to say?

Oh, this isn't over. I'll get his attention. Some way. Somehow.

What if he's upset because I'm here? What if he leaves because my presence has suddenly ruined his night?

What happens next, though, tells me everything I need to know. He's glad to see me. The gesture isn't a big one, but it's revealing.

He turns slightly and gives me a quick look while he's giving cookies to Lila.

I smirk.

Gotcha.

Oh yeah. I'm definitely going to find a way to get his attention. I'm not going to let him off easy tonight.

Not at all.