Page 1 of Sophia’s Daddy (Littleworld #23)

Chapter One

“Are you sure about this? Do I look okay? Maybe I’m overdressed. Maybe I should have picked something more adult. I look like I’m going to a party.” I run my hands through my hair, panic suddenly making my heart race.

Layla turns toward me and shakes her head, sending her nearly white pigtails flying. “Sophia, you look fantastic. Stop worrying. Tate is going to love this dress.”

We’re in the master bathroom at her house getting ready for date night.

Layla’s Daddy has invited Tate over, setting the two of us up.

It’s not a blind date because I’ve met Tate many times at the Dungeon, but I’ve never met up with him outside of the club.

I’ve never met up with anyone outside of the club.

I stare at myself in the full-length mirror on the back of the bathroom door.

My hair is bright blue because I like it that way.

It’s in high pigtails, and I have bangs that cover my forehead.

It makes me happy. But it also means I have to choose my clothes carefully.

Today I’m wearing a white party dress with large blue dots on it.

The skirt is poofy and short, making it perfect for my Little.

The bodice is tight around my chest and kind of sexy, making that top half appear more adult.

It hugs my ample breasts and dips low enough to show some cleavage.

It’s far fancier than necessary for what is basically a play date at Layla’s house. The only thing keeping me from hyperventilating is the fact that Layla is dressed similarly in a pink party dress.

It’s too late for us to change anyway. Tate will be here any second. Surely he won’t judge me for overdressing. After all, he’s seen me dressed like this plenty of times at the Dungeon.

I draw in a deep breath and let it out slowly. I’ve been half in love with Tate for a long time, but I’ve never had the guts to share my feelings with him. Until recently, when Layla told me he wanted her and Theo to set him up with me, I had no idea he was even interested in me like that.

I suppose I still don’t know for sure what his intentions are, but he was persistent, so I assume he sees me as a potential partner. He must not mind my blue hair since this playdate was his idea. He specifically asked Layla about me—more than once.

I look down at my shoes. “Maybe the ruffled socks and Mary Janes are overkill.”

Layla giggles. “They’re not. You’re perfect.”

I’m irrationally nervous. The thing is, I’m not as Little as Layla.

Ever since she met Theo, she has regressed deeper than I’ve ever known her to play.

It was a surprise to her, too. She hadn’t fully realized she would enjoy a younger age.

She has explained to me that it just sort of evolved that way between her and Theo.

Layla says it’s much easier to fully engage your Little when you have a caregiver.

I get that. It makes sense. I’ve never had a full-time Daddy. I’ve done scenes at the Dungeon with a lot of different Doms—some of them Daddies—but I’ve never dated one outside of the club.

There’s comfort in being inside the Dungeon. I never have to worry about being judged. I can be my inner Little for a few hours on a Friday or Saturday night and let go of any stress that builds up throughout the week.

I’ve done scenes with Tate. My usual MO is to intentionally misbehave with my friends so that we all attract the attention of a few Daddy Doms until they come over and spank us.

Tate has been one of them on many occasions.

He’s a great spanker. My favorite. He’s also incredibly handsome, but I had no idea he was interested in me for more than just an occasional play partner at the Dungeon.

I was surprised when Layla called me and told me Tate wanted to meet me outside the club. I’m glad we’re doing it this way. A double date at Layla’s house is a good stepping block. It’s safe here. All four of us are in the lifestyle.

It’s still going to be strange meeting up with people outside of the club.

It’s like I stepped over a line into another dimension.

My Little is a side of me I keep in a black plastic bin in my closet.

I open it when I’m going to the club, take out an outfit, and put it back when I’m done.

It’s like a box of Halloween costumes. In fact, if anyone ever discovered it, I could easily say that’s what it is.

“Ready?” Layla asks. “Let’s go downstairs.” Layla takes my hand and tugs me toward the door. Toward uncertainty. Toward possibilities.

Am I ready for this?