Page 15 of Mindy
Mindy swallowed. “Good.”
Tricia chuckled softly again. “That’s not a lot of information, Baby girl. You said in your text you have some questions. Would you like to get together so we can talk?”
“Um, okay.” She hadn’t pictured meeting Tricia in person. She’d thought maybe if the woman had time, she might answer a few questions over the phone.
“Would you like to meet someplace public for hot chocolate or ice cream? Or would you rather I came to your apartment where you can feel more at ease?”
Mindy pursed her lips and thought about the options. If Tricia hadn’t already seen her apartment, she wouldn’t dare invite the woman over. She would have been too embarrassed. But Tricia had already been there and hadn’t judged her. Plus, she was right. It would be easier to talk if they weren’t in a public place.
“How about if I pick up hot chocolate and bring it to you? How does that sound, Baby girl?” Tricia asked when Mindy didn’t respond.
“Okay. You mean like now?”
“Now is good for me. Are you busy?”
Mindy shook her head before reminding herself Tricia couldn’t see her. “No, Ma’am. I guess now is good.” Her stomach flipped over several times at the idea of having Tricia in her apartment again. Her sparse home would feel so much more alive and fuller with Tricia in it.
“Okay, Baby girl. Take a breath. We’re just going to talk. I’ll be there in thirty minutes.” Tricia ended the call, leaving Mindy trembling.
At the moment, she couldn’t think of a single question she wanted answered. She’d switched to a nearly full-blown panic at the idea of being in Tricia’s presence again.
It wasn’t necessary. She had no idea why she was nervous. Tricia had been nothing but kind and helpful. Mindy didn’t believe for a moment she would suddenly see another side of the Mommy Domme today.
Mindy busied herself cleaning up what few items were out of place in her apartment, finishing just as a knock sounded at the door. She glanced down at her clothes before wiping her palms on her orange leggings. It wasn’t anywhere near Halloween, but Mindy was wearing her favorite black T-shirt with the jack-o-lantern on it anyway because the shirt was soft and cute, and she liked it.
When she opened the door, she found Tricia smiling at her with two steaming cups in her hands. “Hey there, Baby girl.”
Mindy backed up to let Tricia in, her tummy doing somersaults, partially from nerves and partially because of the tantalizing scent of chocolate.
“I hope you like marshmallows on your hot chocolate, Baby girl.”
Mindy grinned, feeling instantly more at ease. “I love them, Ma’am.”
Tricia handed her one of the cups as soon as she shut the door. “Use both hands and be careful, it’s still hot.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” It was kind of weird how easily Mindy assumed an automatic submissive role in front of Tricia, addressing her politely as if they were in the club about to do a scene.
She didn’t think they were going to do a scene tonight. Tricia had said they were just going to talk. However, right off the bat Mindy felt herself slipping into a deeper submission, partly from addressing the woman as Ma’am.
“Would you like to sit at the table or on the couch?” Tricia asked.
“Table,” Mindy blurted, not wanting Tricia to realize how uncomfortable her loveseat was.
“Table it is then.” Tricia set her own cup down and pulled out a chair for Mindy, helping her get settled before pushing it up to the table.
When Mindy lifted the cup to her lips to take a careful sip, Tricia pointed at it. “Both hands, Baby girl,” she admonished. “Would you rather I poured it into a sippy cup or a bottle?”
Mindy shook her head. “No, Ma’am. I’m sorry. I’ll use both hands.” She also squirmed in her seat at the admonishment.
“Good girl,” Tricia praised. “How about if I start by telling you things I think you should know about The Nurturing Center, and then you can ask me questions if I leave anything out? Please feel free to interrupt me at any time though, Baby girl.”
Mindy nodded. That sounded perfect. She was too embarrassed to ask what she wanted to know. Plus, she wasn’t even sure what her questions were.
Tricia set her elbows on the table and leaned forward, threading her fingers together loosely. “First, let me say that The Nurturing Center is a top-notch facility. The doctors and nurses there are very professional. Their goal is to help Littles adjust to a way of life more suited for them.”
“Are all the Littles Babies?” Mindy asked.
Tricia nodded. “Yes. The Nurturing Center is for full regression. Littles who join the program arrive with a wide range of experience. Some of them only recently realized they were Little; others have been living in the lifestyle for a long time.”
