Nurturing Britney (Surrender Book 7) Becca Jameson (ebook reader for comics TXT) 📖

and look at. Not something I got down on the floor and played with.” Her voice is cracking.

I shake my head. “You missed out on tea parties and coloring and a host of other things. I’m trying to give that back to you if that’s what you want. And you’re permitted to recreate what you missed out on.”

She turns her face away and stares across the room. “I’m confused.”

“That’s understandable.” And my fault. I let this go on too long. I should have spoken up yesterday or the day before or the day she came to my house. Why did I wait so long?

I know the answer. I’ve been selfishly watching her ease into my world without a comment. It was bound to blow up in my face eventually.

“Grown women do not play with tea sets and stuffed animals,” she murmurs, her gaze going to her knees.

Does she have any idea that her dress is bunched up at her waist and I can see her panties?

“Sweetie, we need to talk.”

She glances at me. Her lip trembles. “You want me to move out, don’t you?”

My eyes widen. “God, no. Not at all.”

She looks back down. “I can’t thank you enough for everything you’ve done for me. You’ve been so kind, and you’ve indulged me at a time I really needed a break. I need to snap out of it and get back to my real life. I have responsibilities. I need a new job and probably a place to live. I—”

I set a finger on her lips to silence her. “Britney, hush, sweetie. Listen to me. I know you’re confused and scared and probably about to be a little angry with me, but you’re not going anywhere because it’s not safe. Understand?”

“Yes, Sir,” she whispers and then winces.

My heart seizes again. She is so precariously close to being fully little and doesn’t understand. “I need you to listen to me closely, okay? Can you do that?”

She nods.

I pull her closer, hugging her against me. I need to touch as much of her as I can. “Remember when we talked about BDSM and the fact that I’m a Dominant?”

“Yes.” She’s looking at her knees, but that’s okay. I just need her to hear me.

“Well, I belong to a club. It’s called Surrender. That’s not the important part, but what I want you to know is that there are many different types of dominance and submission. The fetish community is large and growing. A great percentage of people enjoy participating in some aspect of the community on many different levels. Some people play a few hours a week, and for others, it’s a lifestyle choice.”

“What does this have to do with me?” she asks, glancing at me.

“Well, that’s what we’re going to explore and figure out.”

Her brow scrunches.

I stroke her cheek again. “I practice a particular subset of BDSM called age play. Have you ever heard of that?”

She shakes her head.

“It means that I’m what they call a Daddy Dom.”

She frowns.

“I enjoy having a relationship with a submissive who would prefer to turn her care over to me, taking on the role of what’s called a little.”

“A little?”

“A little is anyone in the community who enjoys spending time recreating some or all aspects of their childhood. Living as an adult child. It encompasses any age. Could be boys or girls. And in the lifestyle, other adults enjoy caring for littles. They are referred to as Daddies and Mommies.”

She stares at me, swallowing.

I continue. “There are many reasons why an adult might enjoy being a little. Perhaps they preferred the freedom of that stage of life. Perhaps some trauma caused them to miss out on an aspect of their childhood. For some, they have a hole that needs filling because they never had a Daddy or Mommy.” I let that sink in.

Tears form and she swipes at them. “Like me.”

“Like you. And I should have explained this sooner. I didn’t because you seemed so eager to experience everything I presented you with. You show many signs of being not only submissive but also having a tendency to enjoy age play.” I pluck the front of her dress to point out what she’s wearing.

She holds my gaze for a moment and then leans her body against mine, setting her head on my shoulder.

Blessed angels. She hasn’t run from the house.

I let her sit with all that information for a while, stroking her arm with the hand around her and her bare thigh with the one I’ve set on her lap.

“I thought I was strange, that something was wrong with me,” she murmurs eventually.

“Not at all, sweetie. You’re exploring an option. That’s all. It’s possible you just need to experience the things you missed. And that’s okay. Some people go through a phase, indulging their inner child with all the things that go with that stage of life.”

“I got caught up in all the pretty things I never had and didn’t stop to consider what I was doing.”

“I know, sweetie. That’s my fault.”

“It’s like I stepped away from reality and slid down a rabbit hole, popping out into a different dimension. One where someone cares about me and lets me escape my life. I’ve been ignoring my responsibilities and pretending I’m not even who I am.”

“And that’s okay, sweetie. There’s nothing wrong with exploring your inner little girl.”

Several minutes go by again before she asks, “Was Collette your little girl?”

“Yes, sweetie, she was. But we had some differences of opinion and eventually, we split up. Our relationship was on the rocks before I moved to Seattle.”

“Did she live with you like this? Like you were her Daddy and she was your little girl?”

“Yes.”

“What if I want to keep pretending for a while?” She plays with the hem of her dress.

“Then I’d be delighted if you’d let me help guide you in the lifestyle and find out what works for you.”

“I’m not helping out with the expenses.”

“And I don’t want you to. I enjoy taking care of