Page 35 of Chance's Choice
“Good boy,” I praise, patting my thigh. “Now bring the ball back to Daddy.”
He doesn’t hesitate, trotting over with his head held high. He drops the toy at my feet and wags his tail, whining for a repeat. I scratch the top of his head with my fingertips before I pick the ball up and throw it again.
We continue this game for a few more minutes, and I can’t get over just how quickly and easily Kade sank into his pup headspace. There was no hesitance -not like there was for his little headspace- and even though I’ve seen him enjoy playing as a Little, it doesn’t seem to compare to the unfettered exuberance of his puppy side.
He growls playfully at the ball at one point, batting it with his ‘paw’ before leaping on it with his teeth bared. I can’t help but think it’s the cutest damn thing I’ve ever seen.
When he brings the ball back for what has to be the tenth time, I stroke his head and reaffirm that he’s been a good boy. He seems to be tiring of the game, so I tell him we’re going to have a little break, and he can either jump up on the couch and rest with his head in my lap, or sit by my feet while I pet him and get some work done. Little does he know, the ‘work’ involves trawling websites on my phone, looking for pet play toys and accessories, because it’s clear to me that Kade’s loving his time as a pup.
He looks at the couch, then at my face, then at the couch again before he hoists himself up onto the seats beside me in a very canine-inspired way, his front ‘paws’ coming up first before bringing one leg and then the other up behind him in quick succession. It takes a little maneuvering before he’s lying on his belly with his knees tucked in underneath him, his arms folded next to my leg and his chin resting on top of my thigh. He looks up at me with big, doleful eyes and I grin and scritch the top of his head again, feeling my heart flip as his eyes drift closed and he lets out a happy chuff of breath.
“Good boy,” I murmur, then use my free hand to start scrolling websites.
Today has turned out to be better than I’d hoped, and I’m even more interested in seeing how much further we can explore this new dynamic.
Chapter Sixteen – Kade
At this point, I’m fairly sure I’ve had a psychotic break and the life I’m living is not real. It can’t be real. It’s too good.
Chance and I have been dating for a couple of months now. We’ve fallen into a routine of spending Saturdays as Daddy and boy or Daddy and pup, depending on which mood strikes us both, and Sundays going out on proper dates. On Wednesday nights, he comes to my place after work, we cook dinner and then spend the night cuddling or fucking -or fucking andthencuddling- and often indulge in some light age play, too.
I’ve met most of his friends over the past couple of months as well. Chance didn’t want to overwhelm me with the giant get-together his friends kept pushing for via their group chat, instead wanting me to meet them in smaller doses.
First it was Katie and Cherie: a Mommy and Little couple who were super sweet when we met for lunch one Sunday. I recognized Cherie from the auction, but she was kind enough not to mention watching the moment Chance set his eyes on me for the first time in twenty years. She earned herself so many points for that.
After them, I was dragged along for a night of bowling and drinking beer with Tony, a kind of shy Little, and his Daddy, Spencer, who Chance sheepishly explained has essentially been his best friend for the past decade or so. I expected to feel jealous when he said that, but I wasn’t. How could I really be jealous, when I know that Chance loves me, and what he and Spencer have as friends is nothing like what Chance and I have together? The relief on his face when Spencer and I got along like a house on fire, the two of us ganging up on him with our banter, was definitely worth meeting the guy.
Following that, he took me to meet Ted and Charlie, and their respective boyfriends (and, unsurprisingly, Littles), Zephyr and Asher. We met the group at a gorgeous mansion home which, it turned out, belonged to Ted. Ted and Charlie were also familiar, but unlike Cherie, they did bring up the night of the auction. However, instead of being too inquisitive or judgmental, all they said was that they were glad to see me looking happier and that they were sorry if their intervention on the night was awkward or irritating. Then Zephyr and Asher dragged me into conversation -and a playful interrogation about myself- and I felt oddly accepted and welcomed.
Finally, last night I was introduced to London, Matt, and Josh. I had to do a double take on the latter, because he looks a hell of a lot like Charlie, but he’s younger and apparently a Little, where Charlie’s all Daddy. Matt is sweet and gentle, even though he looks like he’d fit right in with a motorcycle club, and London is young but possibly one of the most mature guys in the whole friendship group. I instantly click with these guys, falling into easy conversation about what they each do for work and just going from there.
Through all of this, the thing that really strikes me is how the entire friendship circle are so endearingly open about their kinks and relationships. I can understand now why Chance reached out to some of them to discuss the puppy play thing. And, having met them all, I no longer mind that they know. In fact, after I was added to the group chat, play dates were suggested and not one person seemed weirded out when I asked if I could play as a Pup instead of a Little. If anything, the entire lot of the Littles got super excited about the idea of playing with me, and that made me want to wag my tail and start playing immediately.
We’ve even started having Emmett over for dinner occasionally, because I feel as though he’s the first real friend that I’ve made myself in a long time. The fact that Chance already knew him, even if they weren’t close, made it easier to turn their acquaintanceship into something more of a friendship. It’s not quite the same as when we’re with Chance’s original social circle, but we’ve been talking about asking Emmett to join the larger group more often anyway. It’s not like he doesn’t already know them all through Charlie and The Center.
So, yeah, everything seems to have fallen into place and it feels surreal. Don still hasn’t mentioned Chance again, so I’ve stopped stressing that he’s surveilling either one of us, and work (while still stressful because of the nature of my job) has been good, all things considered.
And with today being another Saturday, I’m looking forward to more of the same.
I’ve started dropping into Little space for breakfast every Saturday. Chance loves it, and the more I do this, the more I enjoy it, too. It’s genuinely relaxing to let go of my adult concerns and to let myself be taken care of. The therapist I’ve been seeing -a woman Asher referred me to, who is kink-friendly, warm and kind- is impressed with how far I’ve come. I have a praise kink a mile wide, and I no longer seek out punishments (except for fun). I’m a very good boy, as a Pup and as a Little, and Daddy’s affection and reassurance is far better for my mental health than any spanking ever was.
When I’m little, I generally hover around a mindset of four or five. I’m beyond potty trained, so there are no diapers in my lifestyle, but Daddy has me wearing training pants ‘just in case’. Some part of me wonders if hewantsto experiment with an ‘accident’ scene or two, but until I’m sure I’d be okay with it, I’m not going to suggest it myself. Besides, between my woeful lack of experience with Little scenes and our mutual new exploration into puppy play, we have so many more things to entertain ourselves with for the time being.
“Look at you,” Daddy declares in a tone of mixed amusement and exasperation. “You’re covered in syrup, baby.”
I’ve taken to eating my bites of waffles -or, in today’s case, pancakes- with my fingers. Daddy loves cleaning me up, and it turns out messy eating is a lot of fun. My fingers are sticky and I know I have syrup smeared over my mouth, chin, and cheeks, too. I beam at him.
“I love syrup,” I proclaim, before running my index finger through a puddle of the gooey, sweet substance on my plate and ramming it into my mouth. “Yum.”
Daddy shakes his head and pushes off his stool. “I’ll get the cloth. Stay put.”
I wriggle on my seat, licking more syrup off my fingers with childlike glee. I barely even notice Daddy’s returned from grabbing a washcloth and running it under the faucet until he’s grabbed my wrist and is wiping the stickiness off while I struggle and giggle against the sneak attack.
He cleans my hands to the best of his ability, then wipes over my face. Once he’s done, he peppers my cheeks with kisses. “Come on, let’s get you washed up properly and do our teeth, too.”
I groan. “I don’t wanna brush my teeth. I wanna keep tasting syrup, not yucky mint.”
“Too bad, sunshine.” He pulls me from the stool and gives my ass a playful swat. “Brushing teeth is non-negotiable.”
