Page 6

Little.

Daddy.

Age regression.

That is a lot to wrap my head around. I’m sure I’ve heard of it before, somewhere in talks with friends on a night out. We’ve been known to frequent a club on the rare nights when we all had a night off.

“I’ve never been a Daddy,” I say. The word feels strange on my tongue, but the way Tyler’s face falls has me backtracking quickly. “It doesn’t mean I’m not willing to learn. If it’s a part of you, I’m open to it, Tyler.”

“You are?” Tyler doesn’t believe me. I can hear it as clear as I can see the disbelief on his face. “I don’t want you to feel obligated to do it. If it isn’t for you, I get it.”

“Ty, it’s okay. I don’t mind trying new things.” I give him a small smile. “But maybe we can go on an actual date first?”

“Oh, uh yeah, that would be nice.” He licks his lips and I can tell he’s back to being nervous. “I’m sorry. I know I’m just blurting way too much information out at you, but I figured you should know it all before we go any further.”

“I appreciate you telling me,” I say. Even if I’m going to have to do a bunch of research tonight. “We don’t have to worry about that right now, okay? We can just hang out and enjoy the quiet.”

“Okay.” He says the word quietly, nodding like he’s resigning himself to me pulling away already. I don’t want that, especially when I don’t know the answer myself.

I hold out my hand and curl my fingers, motioning for him to come closer.

I direct him to lay his head on my lap. He goes easily and I smile to myself.

That must be part of the dynamic he just explained.

Does he like when someone takes charge and tells him what to do?

Is that part of it? Because I certainly have experience in that department.

I card my fingers through his hair slowly, scratching lightly at his scalp as I do.

When the credits start rolling, I look down and realize he’s asleep.

Out of curiosity and because I’m worried about him, I place two fingers against the side of his neck and count for what I feel is fifteen seconds.

After doing the math in my head, I’m satisfied that he’s fast asleep and nothing worrisome.

I have no desire to move from where I am, so I pick another movie and continue letting him sleep.

When something unexpectedly jumps out on screen, I startle Tyler awake. He sits up quickly and I’m in immediate apology mode.

“I’m sorry,” I say. “I wasn’t expecting that to happen in the movie.”

“No, you’re good.” He takes a deep breath and then reaches for his water. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep. I love when people play with my hair.”

“Good to know,” I say with a smile. “You weren’t out long. You can go back to sleep if you’d like.”

“I’m okay,” he says. “I know if I sleep any longer, I’ll be up all night. I appreciate the cat nap.”

“Oh, speaking of cats.” I feel bad that I forgot I had Fluff locked in the bathroom. I wasn’t sure if Tyler is allergic or not. “Do you like cats?”

“I don’t have one, but I’m not against them.” He starts looking around. “Do you have one?”

“I do.” I stand up and move across the apartment to the bathroom door. The orange ball of fur shoots past me, but then skids to a complete stop and goes into defense mode when he sees Tyler on the couch. It’s comical the way he goes from one feeling to the other so quickly. “He’s harmless,” I say.

I scoop him up quickly, feeling him relax in my arms. His eyes are still locked on Tyler as I sit down on the couch. He finally looks at me and lets out a small meow, more inquisitive than warning.

“It’s okay,” I say to Fluff. “He’s a friend. Be nice.”

I hear Tyler let out a small giggle and glance up at him. He’s smiling and holding out his hand toward us. Toward the cat.

“His full name is Sir Fluffikins, but he goes by Fluff for short. He’ll answer to either, or sometimes he answers to Asshole too. I used to call him Orange Asshole, but that title is reserved for someone else nowadays.”

Tyler tries to hold back a laugh, but he fails. I love hearing his laugh. It’s a light sound, and he looks so happy. His eyes crinkle up and the laugh lines around his lips are more pronounced.

Fluff moves slowly across the cushion between us. Tyler doesn’t move his hand. He lets the cat sniff it. After a few seconds, Fluff bumps his head against Tyler’s arm and rubs his body against him. I smile at the way Fluff goes right to his lap after that.

Tyler lets him explore and sniff for a few more seconds before braving putting his hand on Fluff’s back. “He’s so soft.”

His eyes glance up at me through his lashes and I can see the happiness in them. A carefree moment for him. Fluff bumps his head against Tyler’s jaw and meows at him for more attention.

“He has some toys in the basket if you want to play with him for a bit.” I point over to a tan basket with different things. There are rattling toys, the ones where it’s a feather attached to a stick, ropes, and more. He’s quite spoiled.

I watch Tyler carefully put Fluff down and walk over to the basket.

I clean up our food from earlier and head into the kitchen.

It’s only eight in the evening, with at least another hour of daylight coming through the blinds.

I’m not sure how long he plans on staying here, but I hope it’s a while longer at least. I decide to grab two clear cups and pour some of the fruit salad in each.

When I walk back into the living room, Tyler is on his stomach, wiggling Fluff’s favorite toy between them. Fluff is also on his stomach and every time he taps a paw to try and catch the toy, Tyler lets out one single laugh and moves the toy to a new spot.

“I brought some fruit, if you want it.” Tyler barely acknowledges me as I sit down on the couch. I watch them for a second, but once I realize I’m not getting his attention back I pull out my phone to do some curious research.

I type in Daddy and boy relationships first. There are thousands of results.

I scroll through, ignoring the videos and images that pop up.

There are a few sites that seem legit enough, but I decide to go on Reddit.

Everything is on there. I type in ‘New to the Daddy Little life. What do I do as a Daddy?’.

Again, hundreds of responses. I didn’t realize this was something as popular as it seems. I glance over my phone to Tyler and smile. I can’t tell who is having more fun, but between his smile and Fluff’s meow it’s a close one.

I read the first post that pops up. It’s logistics, mostly, not really a first person account. I move to the second one. It’s more promising, with a guy describing what he does with his Boy. When he starts describing the physical punishments though, I click off. I don’t think I could do that.

The third one is from the point of view of a Boy.

He describes himself as more of a Middle, but it’s an interesting read.

He describes how it feels when he’s regressed, what he likes to do and doesn’t, how his Daddy handles his big feelings.

One paragraph catches my attention where he describes a star chart he has to help him keep track of things his Daddy expects him to do.

“Ow,” Tyler’s voice catches my attention and I look up to see he’s sitting up and holding his hand.

Fluff is sitting next to him, looking confused why their playing stopped.

Tyler’s eyes meet mine before looking down at his hand.

I can see a few beads of blood. “He scratched me. We were just playing, so he didn’t mean it. ”

“It’s okay,” I say. From what I just read and looking at Tyler right now, I don’t think either of us realized he was sinking into what the guy called Little headspace.

Cleaning boo-boos is par for my job, though, so I’m more in nurse mode than anything Daddy related.

“We’ll get you cleaned up, okay? Come into the bathroom. ”

I stand up, leaving my phone and fruit cup behind.

Fluff knows not to mess with human food (there might have been a week where I put cayenne pepper seasoning on everything until I broke him of the habit).

I help Tyler to his feet and we go into the bathroom.

It’s a small space so I direct him to sit on the toilet while I grab the first aid kit.

The scratch is maybe an inch long with two small droplets showing.

It’ll take one swipe, a band aid, and maybe a kiss to make it better.

Everything I’ve done for my niece before.

“This is going to be cold,” I say before swiping the disinfectant wipe across the back of his hand. He doesn’t react, but I see his eyes bouncing between where I’m holding his hand and my face.

Once I put the band aid on, smoothing it out with my fingers, he’s smiling again. “Thank you, Brandt. You didn’t have to do that.”

I can see the pink on his cheeks and I have a feeling what he’s thinking. That he didn’t mean to sink into that space and have me go into protective mode. It wasn’t an issue, though. I smile at him. “Cleaning boo-boos is kind of my thing. Besides, my niece tells me I have the best band aids.”

We both look at the one he’s sporting now. It’s green and white stripes. To match his eyes and his shirt. I finish putting everything away and we go back to the living room. Fluff is curled up in my spot on the couch and I hear his protest loud and clear when I move him.

Tyler reaches for his fruit cup and starts picking pieces at random. He makes a funny face at the bananas.

“You don’t like bananas?” I ask, with a bit of humor in my voice. He looks up at me, surprised that I seem to know that. “Ty, your face says it all.”

“Oh.” He drops the banana into the cup and picks up two blueberries. I can hear them pop with the force he chomps down on them. It makes me smile. “This is good. Thank you.”

“Of course,” I say. I pop a strawberry in my mouth.