Page 18 of Spencer's Satisfaction
“I can see that,” she says, still sounding like she’s toying with me.
I clear my throat. “Is he okay?” My heart sinks as I reprimand myself yet again for letting him leave here upset. For having upset him in the first place.
“He’s…” I can hear his voice in the background, demanding his phone back and I smile, relieved. Tanya carries on as though she’s not being harangued by her brother, “a little upset this morning, but I think it’s embarrassment more than anything.”
“Tanya,” Tony’s voice is loud enough for me to hear clearly now, “you’re overstepping so many boundaries right now…”
“Can I talk to him?” I ask, still half anticipating the ‘fuck off and don’t call here again’ talk.
“That depends.”
In the background, I hear Tony reprimand her by name again.
Oh, here we go… “On?”
But what she says next takes me completely by surprise. “Will you join us for dinner tonight?”
I don’t even need to think about my response. “What can I bring?”
* * *
I am uncharacteristically nervous when I park my car in one of the three available visitor bays outside Tony’s apartment complex. I don’t exactly know what I’m walking into. Does Tony even want to see me? He didn’t argue with his sister when she invited me, but that doesn’t mean he’s not doing this under duress.
But I dressed to impress anyway, in dark denim jeans and another nice button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled to my elbows, this one black. Imayhave consulted the group chat for advice, and they were unanimous: I look good in black.
They’re also all expecting an update after my ‘date’ ends. (I did not give them the whole story. I’m not a complete idiot.)
Grabbing the bowl of homemade green salad and the bottle of red wine from my passenger seat, I make my way down the path that leads to the apartment building. It’s an older building, a little run down, but the grounds appear to be well maintained. There are two little courtyards on either side of the front pathway, belonging to the two ground floor apartments. I know that the one on the right is Tony and Tanya’s place.
With some juggling of the items in my hands, I manage to unlatch the little gate to their courtyard and let myself in, rather than going to the building’s entrance and buzzing their apartment. As the gate clangs shut behind me and I wince at the sound, a figure appears at the open apartment door.
It’s not Tony.
Instead, it’s a tall, willowy woman with vibrant orange hair. I blink. “Tanya, I presume?”
She grins at me, and I see the resemblance to her brother once she smiles. It lightens up her whole countenance. “And you’re Spencer.” She closes the distance between us, jogging down the couple of steps from the tiny front porch to come take the bowl of salad out of my hands. “Thanks for this, it looks great.”
“I hope you don’t mind that I pre-dressed it. Just a simple vinaigrette.”
“Nope,” Tanya hooks her free arm into mine and starts leading me towards the house, “it sounds great. And, hey,” she stops us just before we reach the door, pinning me with a serious stare. I’m a few inches taller than her, but she’s intimidating. “He really likes you, Spencer. And he’s…well, I think you know he’s not like most guys. He’s…sensitive.” She casts a quick peek into the apartment and lowers her voice. “I’ve, um, I’ve looked into what you talked about with him. The…Daddy thing?”
Huh. He really wasn’t kidding when he said that he doesn’t keep much from his sister. Considering how easily flustered he is, this surprises me. But then, I’m glad he has someone he’s comfortable talking to.
I nod, not reacting other than to prod, “Yeah?”
“Not gonna lie, I thought it was weird, but,” she holds up her free hand, forestalling any potential argument or defense I might offer and her voice dips even lower into a whisper, “I think it would suit him. He’s…” a tiny huff of laugher escapes her and she shakes her head, offering me a rueful smile. “Well, you can see it, I’m sure.”
I frown a little at that, not exactly sure what she’s trying to imply, but starting to get some idea of where Tony’s gotten so wrapped up in feeling like he’s abnormal. The thing is, I can see that his sister has good intentions, but these judgments she’s making, the way she’s phrasing her observations…yeah, she’s made her brother feel as though his quirks arewrong.
“Tony’s awesome,” I tell her, choosing my own words very carefully. “And, yes, I do think that he’d probably get a lot out of age regression play, if that’s what you mean by ‘the Daddy thing’, but not just because he’s so sweet and…” I barely stop myself from saying ‘pure’, suddenly not liking the implications of the word, even though I’ve used it to describe him in my head at least a dozen times before now, “innocent?” That also doesn’t feel like the right word, either, but it’s closer to what I’m trying to get across. “A lot of adults find that handing over the reins to a caregiver provides amazing stress relief. We don’t realize just how taxing all the little decisions we have to make during any given day actually weigh on us, y’know?”
She cocks an eyebrow. “Have you ever tried it? Being an adult baby?”
“No,” I answer honestly, “but I’ve been a Daddy for over a decade now, and I have a tight circle of friends in the kink community, including a number of people who do enjoy being little.”
I think fondly of Ash, Matt, Josh, Katie and Zephyr. Watching them play together is always entertaining, but warms my heart, too. I am lucky to have friends who trust me enough to let me see them with their guards down; to let me interact as Uncle Spence and play my part in their self-exploration and stress relief. It’s not quite the same as having a romantic Daddy/Little relationship, but I like to think that it strengthens our bonds and brings us closer together as friends.
I try my best to express these feelings to her as succinctly as possible.
