Daddy For The Night

  Giving my lashes one last coat of mascara, I look into my vanity mirror at the results of an hour of primping. This was going to be a good night. My confidence level was skyrocketing at the moment. Not only was I killing this smokey eye, but for the first time in my life, I was able to do a perfectly even winged eyeliner. While out looking for outfits for tonight, I decided to be reckless and get a new cut. Not just any haircut, short bob with straight across bangs. My hair was naturally thick, straight, and dark chocolate brown in color. I loved that the cut allowed for my slender neck to be seen. I did not look like a Tori tonight, more like a sultry ass Veronica.   I make my selfie face in the mirror and give myself a wink. My eyes were a slanted almond shape and amber in color. My lips were the shape most women had to pay for. My nose was the only feature on my face that bugged me. It was rounded at the tip. It was cute from the side, but I just felt it looked odd on my heart-shaped face. My chin came to a point, and my cheekbones weren't super high, but they were high enough. I didn't have much to complain about. I wasn't unattractive, and I knew that. Not to say I was full of myself, but just that I was aware that to the eyes of many, I was your standard definition of a beautiful woman. Although I much rather be known for my intelligence and independence. It was fun to surprise people with my quick sarcastic remarks. You could see on their faces they were not ready. Getting to my feet, I go to the full-length mirror hung over my bedroom door. I always did my make up first, then picked my outfit. I was in my favorite unicorn onesie. It was hot pink with tiny rainbows sprinkled across its fluffy fur. The horn on its hood was holographic silver, and the zipper was in the shape of a star. I had a secret. One that only my closest best friend knew. I was a Little. I didn't share it with anyone. First and foremost, most people had no clue what it was. You say, "I"m a Little." and they look at you and ask, "A little what?"  Adult me would be considered aloof, quirky, sarcastic, and flighty. Little me was shy and sweet and had an addiction to mini corndogs. My bedroom was my little space, a safe place for me to unwind and enjoy myself while in the headspace of being little. My bedsheets had kittens and unicorns on them—my bed lined with stuffed animals. Glow in the dark stars was stuck to my ceiling. The wall my bed was against was painted hot pink, and I'd pinned a lot of my coloring pages to it. I bought a teepee and set it up in the corner; in it were all my favorite childhood books. I enjoyed Juney B. Jones, Dr. Seuss, and Disney stories. The Disney books were I had were vintage books. I loved being read to, so I had feverishly gone through thrift shops to find the cassette tapes that went with them. I had a cassette player that I used to listen to the stories before bed. No one was allowed in my bedroom. Well, there was one person. Brent.  It wasn't just my decor and or activities alone that spoke to my secret little tendencies. There were hidden Easter eggs around my home and day to day life. For one, my toothbrush was Disney Princess. My excuse if ever anyone questioned it was that they were cheaper than adult ones. When I went to Starbucks, I asked for a sip top instead of a straw. The clips I bought for my hair were colorful, and all the pens I owned were either sparkly or fun colors. I had hidden in my coffee table (really a chest) an assortment of crayons and pencils with several different themed coloring books. I preferred more childlike coloring books over adult ones. But I had a few adult ones available if I felt more mature with my art time. Otherwise, the rest of my apartment and life seemed like that of your average 25 years old. Clean lines with splashes of color here and there. Nothing over the top. I worked a full-time job, paid bills, and went out with friends. I was in therapy paid by my parents after I'd had a complete meltdown at an event of theirs. I was known for having severe panic attacks and high anxiety. They hadn't done it out of love as more duty. My relationship with my parents was strained, distant, and cold. I had gone through a deep depression about a year ago and found reverting to the childlike activities made me feel at ease. I had the tendencies long before that though, just wasn't aware of what it was. I just had figured it was just apart of my many odd quirks. I never mentioned any of it in therapy as I didn't want it getting back to my parents.  I did all the research myself. I googled some of my behaviors and triggers. It leads to what was called "Age Regression," and I  went on to study it for months after. I learned how to incorporate it into my life without it being something I would need to share with others. Most adults that partook in "Age Regression" had what was called caregivers. Either other adult males and or females took care of them while they were in their "little headspace." I wanted a caregiver but was afraid of someone then finding out. The fear stemmed from the idea of judgment being placed on me. Thinking of my parents knowing gave me a sense of dread. A lot of people associated it with p********a, which made no sense as I was an adult. I wasn't even sure if my tendencies even leaned sexually. I'd never tested it. However, the idea of having a Daddy did produce butterflies in my tummy. So I assumed it could be that I was, in fact, turned on by the idea of s*x when in little headspace.  Sighing deeply, I go back to the task at hand, readying myself for my very first rave experience. My good friend Brent had invited me out. I say good friends because I cautious with the label"best friends." My abandonment issues kept me from trusting others to stay around long enough for me to call them anything other than acquaintances.  But all things considered, Brent would and should be called my best friend. He was bisexual, and you could only tell this with the way he dressed at times. He would be described as a free soul. Open-minded and everything I had ever wanted in a friend. He was the only person that had become close enough to not only notice my little tendencies but accept them. I was grateful. I could be myself around him with no worries. He had actually bought me a stuffie just a couple of weeks ago for my birthday. A grey bunny that I named Ben. I also appreciated the fact that he didn't bring it up with others. He was cautious with me. Unzipping my onesie, I step out of it and open my closet door. "Which one, which one." I sing, mimicking Ezma from Emperors New Groove. I was a huge Disney fan, and Disney plus was my favorite pass time on my days off. I was having difficulty deciding between the two different looks I'd chosen while shopping. Huffing loudly, I decided to wait till Brent arrived he would help me choose. He had better fashion sense than I did anyway. He must have felt me thinking about him because my phone vibrates with a text on my vanity stand. We had a weird connection that was still hard for me to understand. It creeped me out at times how often he could read my mind, and at times I could hear his. I was right; it was Brent. It read, "Hey Princess, I am 5 mins out. You ready?" I catch myself smiling at my screen. I loved it when he called me that. Something about being called Princess by Brent made me feel special. I send a reply letting him know I needed his help picking out my outfit with a kitten emoji with wide shiny eyes. Setting my phone back down, I go back to the full-length mirror and my onesie on the ground. Before slipping it back on, I take a look at my body. I was slender, but my waist curved in dramatically. Turning to the side, I admire my ass. It was my favorite part of my entire physique. It was full and heart-shaped. I received compliments on a fairly consistent basis. My breast was a full B cup, and my legs were nicely shaped. I only wished my legs were a bit thicker. I needed to start doing lunges and squats again. That's if I could get over the anxiety of working out in front of others. It was odd. I couldn't work out at home because I had no motivation to be alone, yet on the other side of things, I couldn't bring myself to then workout in front of others. It was a lose/lose situation. A knock on the door snaps me back to reality. "s**t!" I say aloud, grabbing my onesie off the ground and slipping it on. I leave it partially unzipped. I jog lightly from my room, down the hallway, and through my living room to get to the front door. Unlocking it, I swing it open. "Oh, my God! You look f*****g amazing!" I say enthusiastically at the sight of Brent. "Your hair!" Brent reacts, eyes wide. Brent was Asain, and what I believe he'd told me was Hispanic as well. His skin was clear with a honey color to it. He would not just be considered attractive. Brent was sexy, no ifs and or buts about it. The man was stupid hot. His outfit was doing things I wish it weren't to me at the moment. On top, he was sporting a fishnet crop with a fitted leather jacket over it; his lower half was a pair of black slim-fit jeans. His hair was hot pink at the tips, and I could tell he had recently gotten a fade. He took outstanding care of himself. His body was taut with muscle well earned in a gym. He was tall and had a slender but strong build. I couldn't help staring at the veins that naturally stood at attention on his lower abs and the V that lead down into his jeans. n****e piercing showed through the fishnet top. I wasn't usually this affected by how attractive he was. We had been good friends turned best for about the past two years. Yes, he was attractive. I knew that I wasn't blind after all. He had women snapping their heads back all the time when we were out together. Looking then to me, sheepishly embarrassed that they were caught gawking.  But I had to admit, over the last few months, he had started to pull at heartstrings I hadn't been aware of. I wasn't one to be hooked with looks alone. I'd been with several attractive partners and found that they usually were assholes. Brent had been taking the time to be not only caring but ever-present in my life, so naturally, my heart was swung by him. He would show up at my job with flowers randomly. He cooked me meals and dropped them at my door for me when I was battling that crippling depressive state. Drove me to therapy appointments when I threw fits about not wanting to go. He checked up on me if he didn't hear from me within the span of a couple of days. Most would say that he was interested, but he had dated several girls when we've known each other. I was also told he was like that with everyone. Drunk me had talked to a friend of his, and she giggled, telling all he had done for her in the past as well. Saying he was just the big brother every female dreamed of having. So I didn't allow myself to assume anything; if he wanted to make a move, I trusted that he was confident enough to do so. Right now, though, I was fighting with my inner demons. He looked good enough to slurp through a damn straw. The crooked grin he typically sporter was no longer just cute. It was downright sexy. How the hell did I not notice how wide his shoulders were before now? Leaning forward, Brent grips the door frame, the veins in his hand coming to the surface. He had decorated his fingers with several rings; his fingernails painted black. Jesus Christ, he was a vampire playboy dream at this point. The men that women read about in their books. I wasn't a fan, but I had read enough to know what was barreling over me in my doorway. I shake my head in an attempt to clear it. It was his outfit. It had to be. "You good little homie?" Brently's deep voice questions. "You gonna let me in?" Blinking at him, I realize I had just been standing there staring. I can feel that my face had grown hot. "Uh yeah, sorry. I've been kind of out of it tonight. I think I'm just excited." I say quickly, hoping it was good enough of a lie that he wouldn't question my behavior further. Brent's grin turns into a wide bright smile. "I'm super excited, too, little one!" He says, patting the top of my head as if my face wasn't red before it was now. "Why are you so red?" Brent's head leans to the side. "You need some water; I can't have you dehydrated before a rave."  Brent makes a move to go to the kitchen. "Little one needs some water." I knew he was just sweet, but calling me little one was working some dark magic type on me. Guess it was s****l for me. In the past, he had used the term, and it made me smile, but it had never made me want to climb him. This was definitely because of the way he was dressed. Brent dressed sexily but never too revealing. I had only ever seen him with his shirt off a handful of times, and it was always in a fleeting moment. We had never discussed s*x in particular unless it was a dirty joke or brought up by friends. I had a hard time watching anything remotely s****l with anyone as it made me uncomfortable. s*x, in general, was an odd subject for me as I did not identify as "vanilla," the things I was into would make your typical female take a couple of steps back. Maybe even run in the opposite direction. Again, like my little side. I kept this to myself. I certainly never mentioned it to Brent. I had a feeling he wasn't vanilla now with the way he'd chosen to dress for this event. It screamed b**m for sure. Brent taps me on the shoulder. I had been stuck at the front door just looking out into the outdoor hall. I was obviously thinking deeply about the things I would like Brent to do to me. I was never so thankful that thoughts were private. "Princess, are you okay? You're worrying me a bit. Are you sure you're good to be going out?" Brent's hand splays out over my shoulder, its weight all of a sudden feeling like a thousand pounds. Coughing, I clear my throat. "Yeah, I'm good. As I said, I've been a bit out of it. Spacey." I say, looking up at him, nodding just a little too furiously. Brent takes my chin with his hand, his other still on my shoulder.  I feel what feels like a bolt of pure lightning go from my stomach to my groin. I whine softly to myself and look at Brent wondering if he'd heard it.  He must not have because Brent only steps back and does a walk to my couch. Before sitting, he takes a sip from a cup he must have poured for himself as well. I mimic him and take a drink from the cup he'd handed me. "I like the cut. It frames your face so well. What made you decide to do it?" Brent asks, taking a seat. My couch was large and L shaped. I had chosen grey tones. My hand goes to my hair, and I twirl a strand. "I'm not sure. It was in an impulsive mood, I think. I have wanted to cut it for a while, just never had the nerve." Brent nods his head. "Well, I love it. The impulse did you good. I'm also digging the onesie. Is it new too?" Looking down, I laugh. "No, I just haven't worn it in a while. I usually save it for special occasions. It felt appropriate." Looking up, I catch Brent strangely looking at me. "What?" I ask, worried I might have said something off. "Nothing." Brent takes another drink. "Come sit; we got a while before we have to take off." Shrugging, I make my way to sit on the couch. I make sure not to sit too close. The feelings I was having has subsided, but I didn't want to spike them again. "How long did it take for you to get your eyeliner like that?" Brent asks. "Oh my God, forever! I have never gotten it to be this perfect before. Super proud." I reply, slouching into the couch. "Did you eat?" I smile. He always did that. He knew I wasn't great at remembering to feed myself. "I did. I had some chicken nuggets a couple of hours ago." "That isn't enough. We will grab something on our way to the spot." Brent leans forward and places the now half-empty cup of water on my coffee table. Standing, Brent walks around to me and sits close. Oh no. "I want to see something," Brent says, pulling the hood of my onesie up and over my head. "That is adorable." He says, bopping my nose. "It's been a while since I've seen you so comfortable. You're usually in work clothes or day wear. This suits you." I shift uncomfortably and go to stand up, but Brent grabs my arm. "I have a question for you." I sit back down. "What?" My breath was starting to grow heavy. Him so close and now his hand on my arm. I wasn't sure if I could hide the way I was feeling. "Have you ever done ecstasy before?" Brent asks me, removing his hand from my arm. "Nope," I say, instantly relaxing. "I've only ever smoked a couple of times; otherwise, I have never really done and or tried anything outside of that," I answer with a shrug. "Would you like to?" Brent searches my face closely. "I mean, I'm not against it." Brent nods. "Well, I ask because I have some. If you want to, just let me know." Brent leans back. "Didn't you say you needed my help deciding on what to wear?" He asks. "Yeah, it's been a pain," I say, leaning back with him. Brent's hand goes to my thigh, and he squeezes it. "Oh damn, this thing is soft." He says, beginning to rub up and down my thigh. I knew he wasn't trying to make a move. He's touched me before; he was a physical touch person. I was too, so I understood that it wasn't s****l, but my body, on the other hand. It had different ideas. My immediate reaction was to tense up. "You good?" Brent's face was one of worry. "Did you hurt your leg? Is it sore?" He continues to rub it but starts to deepen his touch to create a massage effect. Oh no. Oh, God. I think to myself. My breathing deepening. From his perspective, it probably looked like I was in pain. "Give me your foot, it might be a sprain, and it's connected." Brent was well verse in physical therapies and was a natural at helping people with their aches and pains. "I'm good. It's fine." I say, sitting up straight. "No, Tori, if you're hurt, we shouldn't go. You already said you were feeling off. Let me help. We can stay in. It's no big deal, really." I groan in exasperation. This was getting too out of hand. Jumping up, I make quick motions with my hands. "I'm okay. I'm good. I need to get dressed." I try to make a swift move to get away, and Brent catches me around the waist. "Now listen here, you little brat. I am worried about you. You need to tell me what's wrong." Bringing me in close, Brent rubs up and down my back slowly. I melt into him and let out a whimper. My hands wrap around his waist, and I give up. I allow the feelings to flow throughout my entire body. I let the smell of him penetrate my nostrils, and I sink fast into a burst of desire like none I'd had before. "There you go, just relax. It's okay." Brent whispers. Pulling me back, Brent looks down into my face. It was only then that I could see he was catching on to what was happening. "Tori?" He asks, voice low.   My thoughts begin to race, and my breathing starts to spike. I instinctively pull the hood of my onesie up to try and hide my face. Doing a spin,  I make a mad rush for my room. "Give me a minute!" I yell. "What the-" is all I manage to hear before shutting my bedroom door. Leaning against the door, I take a deep breath and let myself slowly slide to the floor. He knew. He had to know. It was all over my face, and he looked at me straight in my face. It might as well have been written in bright red on my forehead. I hear movement coming from the hall. He was more than likely right outside my door, waiting for me to explain myself. There was silence for what seemed an eternity before Brent finally taps softly on my door. "Tori, ya good?" I hear him say even more softly than the tap itself. Maybe he would just let it go. He was good in awkward situations, watering them down to make others feel comfortable. I had seen him do it in person several times with ease. I had to face this. I couldn't just sit on the floor of my bedroom forever. Standing up, I go to the door and crack it slightly and look out into my hall. Brent had his back to the door and was rocking on his heels. I clear my throat. Brent spins to face the now fully open door. "So you gonna explain that was? Because I feel like I'm missing something." Brent asks, looking adorably confused. So he didn't know. I start subconsciously biting at my lower lip. Damn it! Once again, I'm taken back by his physique. Looking away, I whine against my better judgment. "Woah. Wait." There is a pause, and I can feel Brent coming to a realization. Brent takes a step toward me. His hand goes to my chin and lifts my face to look up into his. I shut my eyes. I couldn't look at him in the face this close again. It was too much. I wiggle my toes, trying to concentrate on any other part of me other than my damn groin screaming at me. "Have I been turning you on this whole time?" His voice goes deep. I open my eyes. The grin on his face was sinful. He looked proud. "Jesus." I whimper. Brent throws back his head, and l howls humorously. "Holy s**t, you're feeling me. Oh, this is f*****g great!" I was not expecting him to react this way at all. My little side was kicking in, and there was not much I could do about it. I was growing painfully shy. "Awww.. hello there, little one," Brent says breathily. I shrug my shoulders up to my ears in an attempt to relieve the feeling of vulnerability building up within me. I had never experienced this state with another person. At least not as intensely as I was at this very moment. "You've gone nonverbal. That's okay. You don't have to talk, Princess. Is it okay if I pick you up?" Brent asks me kindly. I nod my head slowly. I was shocked that he knew about being nonverbal, to begin with. Had he been studying? Brent swoops me up so quickly the breath I was holding comes out in a rush. So embarrassed and not knowing what else to do about it. I bury my face in the crook of Brent's neck. His smell hits me again. The strength he had could be felt in the way he easily carried me back into my bedroom.  Brent begins rocking me slowly. "Shhhhh, you're safe. You must be feeling a lot right now, huh. Is it the way I'm dressed?" His lips now against my ear. His voice was deep. "You like the way I'm dressed, don't you, little one?" My fingers clutch his shoulders as I'm wracked with the sensations his voice and words cause. "I saw the way you looked at me in the doorway. You've never seen me like this. It's okay. You can look at me like that all you want." Brent says, letting some hot breath sweep over my ear. He was driving me crazy at this point. I wasn't even able to breathe. My eyes were shut so hard it was starting to hurt. "You have to breathe, Tori." Brent chuckles. "You'll pass out if you don't." Brent shrugs his shoulders. "Come on. Breath silly." Taking a deep breath, I release the monster grip my fingers had on his shoulders. "You're too cute; you know that?" Brent asks, taking a step into my bedroom.   "Let's get you dressed. We don't want to be late now, do we?" Brent goes to set me on my bed, but I suction myself back to his chest. I didn't want him to let me go. For some reason, I was just too scared to be let go. I had no idea what the heck was happening. Brent lets out another chuckle. "Okay, Princess. I won't let you go." Brent takes a seat on my bed and continues to hold me. "I'm sorry," I say into his chest. "I'm not sure what this is yet," I add. Brent sighs. "It's okay. I do." He says, laying a kiss into my hairline. "We just need to make you feel more comfortable, is all. You want one of your stuffies?" Brent asks me, reaching behind him for one of the many stuffed animals I had lining the wall it was set against. "Yes, Pwease." I say, cringing at the way I was talking. "Oh God," I say, wanting to cry."You're safe to talk any way you want with me. I am not going to judge you." I feel Brent's hand go to the back of my neck, sitting me up on his lap. He had grabbed my yellow and green frog. "Franny!" I giggle and grab the oversized stuffed frog, and bring it to my chest. All of a sudden, I felt like I could breathe again. "See, you just needed something else to focus on." Looking at Brent, I smile. "Yeah. I feel a lot better now." I giggle and wiggle in Brent's lap. "Woah, Woah now," Brent says, slipping me off his lap. "We might be able to bring you down and out of that kind of rush, but let's not test me, Princess." I look at Brent, a bit confused. Then blush when I see him rearrange himself. "Oh.. sawwwy."  I look down to give him some privacy to do what he needed to. "It's okay. It happens."  Brent sighs and turns to my closet. This almost felt natural in a way. As though we had always been this way with one another. Then again, looking back, Brent had always been extremely caring. We just hadn't added in the physical aspect of things yet. "Brent," I say softly. I was biting at my fingernails nervously. Brent had opened my closet and had started taking out the new pieces I had bought the day before. Brent turns to look at me on my bed. "Tori, it's okay. You and I both know about your tendencies. I actually know a lot more about it than I have admitted to you in the past. I've done a lot of research. I think it's time you experience what it's like to have a Daddy. Even if it's just for the night." He says, searching my face for how I was feeling about what he just said. "Would you be okay with that? Can I be your Daddy for the night?"  My mouth had slightly dropped open. I slow, blink, and open my mouth to answer.