Page 151 of Daddy, Take Me Away
“Thanks. I think we’ve got it.” Cas grabbed a shopping basket and handed one to me before beginning to fill it. He stopped first at the stuffed animals. He didn't ask my opinion before picking up exactly what I would have chosen–a soft pink otter and a bright yellow duck–and tossing them both into the basket. I didn't tell him I still slept with the bear my parents had given me on my first birthday Or that I had brought him with me.
I was still trying to figure out what was happening.
Cas stopped next at a glass case full of fancy blinged-out pacifiers, glanced between them and me and finally selected a pack of plain pink ones from a nearby wall rack. Then he was on to clothes.
I watched in sort of a turned-on, embarrassed horror as he made several selections. Two pairs of thin cotton drop-bottom pajamas, a onesie that said ‘Naughty Baby’ on it, the most god-awful frilly dress with matching frilly panties, a plaid skirt that looked like it would barely cover my ass, thigh high stockings, and patent leather Mary Janes. He glanced at me as if to gauge my reaction then added several more onesies, a couple pairs of overalls, another plaid skirt, and a third pair of drop-bottom pajamas. I kept my expression neutral, but if he thought I was stepping one toe out in public wearing any of that he was frying balls. Not happening, dude.
Then we were done with clothes and on to a section I really didn't want to look at much less with Cas standing right there, picking up and selecting items as if they were boxes of cereal. I wanted to sink into the floor as a small box of diapers and wipes went into the basket along with a bottle.
And yet… I was oddly intrigued. But that wasn't the worst part. If I thought standing silent while Cas picked out diapers was bad, it was nothing compared to when he moved on to a different section of the store. Into the cart went two butt plugs, one silicone, one metal, a wooden hair brush, a giant vibrator, a wooden spoon and a leather strap. I wanted to die when my pussy gushed. I just knew there was a wet spot on the crotch of my yoga pants. I was oddly turned on, but also terrified. His purchases went far above and beyond what I had agreed to. Was I allowed to say no? What would happen if I did? Would he pack up the car and head for home?
Would I always wonder what if?
Cas bought two more items. A t-shirt that said Daddy on it and a thick leather belt. I thought my face was going to burst into flames as we checked out.
But he paid and I was still alive and not on fire or swallowed into a hole in the ground. As we stepped out of the shop, I was getting ready to hiss that I wouldn't be caught dead in any of the stuff he had bought. I looked up and noticed that every woman—as well as a fair number of men—in the place was dressed in similar attire. Floofy dresses, schoolgirl skirts, overalls with onesies. And more.
“What is this place?” I whispered, but Cas didn't answer. He just tugged me along to a large desk in the center of the lobby. There was no line so we stepped right up to the front and Cas said, “Reservation for Cas Duncan.”
“I thought we had a room at the other place!” I hissed. “You said you’d booked it for another night!”
“I did. So you could sleep in. You're welcome.” Cas spoke out of the side of his mouth, never taking his eyes off the lady checking us in.
“You're on the 4th floor, room 416 in a family suite,” the woman said, handing Cas a key. Checkout is noon. Breakfast is 8:30. Let us know if you need anything, and enjoy your stay.”
“What is this place?” I hissed again as we made our way to a nearby elevator.
Cas still didn't answer, and I wanted to scream.
“Red!” I said as the elevator doors closed.
Cas pushed the button that stopped it from moving and turned to me with an unamused expression, his eyebrows nearly touching his hairline. “I beg your pardon?”
“Ruh-ed,” I repeated, speaking slowly and enunciating the word. “You took me here, you bought all this stuff we haven't discussed, that I presume you think you're going to use on me, but you haven't said a word to me about any of it and you're refusing to answer a simple question, so, red. I refuse to submit to anything, even stuff I've previously agreed to, unless you communicate with me. That’s not how this stuff works.”
Cas stared at me for a full minute, his mouth open, jaw practically on the floor before he closed it with a snap and nodded. “Fair enough.” But that was all he said as he started the elevator and we made our way to the 4th floor and then our room.
The room was crazy with pink everywhere and lavish furniture, like a four-poster bed with a gauzy canopy, and it just looked like no hotel room I’d ever seen and certainly not one Cas would have picked out. I didn’t have time to react or ponder what it meant, though, because as soon as the door closed behind us, Cas dropped the bags on the floor and stared at me.
“Are you in the lifestyle?” he demanded. “Are you a Little?”
His expression was odd, half-angry, half-hopeful as he stared at me waiting for an answer.
My throat constricted. My hands got clammy. My legs felt like Jello. I scuffed my foot against the carpeted floor and refused to look at him. “I… uhm… no? I mean… I could be…? A Little? Like … sometimes… not all the time. And I'm not because I don't have a… Daddy or anything… but I've read some books.”
“Ah. Okay. That explains it.”
Did it though? If anything, I felt more confused, and he still hadn’t answered my question.
“I am,” Cas said, interrupting my thoughts. “In the lifestyle, I mean. I’m a Daddy, and though my life has been too… complicated to have a full-time babygirl of my own, I’m no stranger to how to take care of one.”
I swallowed hard. My throat felt like sandpaper. “Okay…”
“This is a lifestyle resort. For Littles and their Bigs specifically. It’s new, but I’ve always wanted to visit and it seemed like a good place to set the tone for the rest of the trip, but I might have gone a bit overboard. I realize that now.”
“No, I… uh… I’m okay. I just wanted you to communicate with me.”
“And you were right to demand that. I was letting my anger get the best of me and not explaining because I was afraid to. It was wrong and I wasn’t acting very Daddy-like.”
