Professor Daddy, page 7
I haven’t received any more text messages from my stalker in the past week, so there's been no more information the police can use to discover their identity. The list of men I had given Detective Berger hadn’t been of much use. When I think about it, I get nervous, waiting for my stalker to come back, but most of the time, I feel so safe with Daddy that I don’t remember I ever had a stalker. I’m not sure why they vanished, but good riddance.
After changing into a pair of brightly colored leggings and a tunic top, I remove my makeup and brush out my hair before putting it into a high ponytail. I walk back into the kitchen as Etienne sets a mug of cocoa on the counter in front of one of the stools.
“Cocoa is ready, baby.”
“Thanks, Daddy,” I chirp, climbing up onto the stool and reaching for the mug. I see steam billowing up from between the little marshmallows bouncing happily on top.
“Be careful, it’s hot.”
Nodding, I wrap my hands around the mug and pull it in close to breathe in the sweetness. Carefully, I suck one of the squishy globs off the top. I hum in pleasure. “This is delicious.”
“Thank you, baby.” Daddy comes over and kisses my forehead. “How about we make pizza for dinner?”
“Pizza!” I cry excitedly. “Do you have pepperoni?”
“I might.” He grins, opening the refrigerator and pulling out the ingredients. “How about we add broccoli?”
“No!” I cry, scrunching up my nose in disgust. “Yuck.”
“I guess that’s a no.” Daddy chuckles, having already discovered my aversion to broccoli earlier in the week when he tried to feed me the gross little trees along with some delicious chicken tenders and mac and cheese. “We’ll have a small side salad to make sure we get our veggies in.”
“Daddy,” I complain, “I don’t want a salad.”
“Violet,” he says sternly, “Let’s not start the night off with a time-out.”
“Fine, but a small one,” I concede, going back to sipping my cocoa.
“Are you looking forward to tomorrow?” Etienne asks, turning around to pre-heat the oven.
Tomorrow, my friends and I are hitting the Vermont Teddy Bear Company. They just released a brand-new Champ—the sea monster that lives in Lake Champlain—stuffie that we all need. We’re then driving our new friends an hour away to the Ben and Jerry’s ice cream factory for a tour and tasting. It’s going to be a very delicious, but long, day.
“Yeah.”
“That doesn’t sound like my little professor when she’s excited.” He looks over his shoulder at me, frowning. “What’s wrong?”
I sigh and take a sip of my cocoa. “It’s just that usually Sam or I end up driving the van, because Fawn drives so much for work, and then we have to make sure we follow the itinerary and everything goes according to plan.”
I always have a great time on our field trips, but sometimes it’s not exactly relaxing. There are usually about eight or nine of us, and wrangling everyone isn’t always easy. I can’t truly relax into my little headspace, something these trips are partially meant for. Someone needs to be in charge.
“Sounds like, you need a Daddy to chaperone your trip,” he says. “I could come and make sure all you littles behave.”
“Are you sure?”
I’m too excited about his generous offer and I’m afraid he might have hoped I would say no. I know he had plans to edit the photographs for the Pinetree Fall Arts Festival and work on his exhibit tomorrow. The festival is coming up and he needs to have his prints ready in time. But he doesn’t look unhappy at all about having his plans rearranged.
“I’m used to driving a van and making sure I leave with everyone I arrived with.” He grins at me. “I haven’t lost a student yet. I think I can handle a bunch of littles.”
Chapter 12
Violet
“Looks like the theme is unicorns,” Daddy says, smiling at me as we enter the club’s playroom. “Your favorite.”
“This is the best!” I squeeze his hand. “Last time it was dinosaurs, and they had these super cool sandboxes set up where you could excavate fossils.”
“I bet that was fun.” He grins. “I can see you enjoying getting all dirty.”
“Fawn and I loved it. Sam, not so much.” I giggle. My friend is not a fan of getting dirty. She sat nearby and colored.
“I can see that.” He chuckles, having gotten to know my friends when he chaperoned our group trip last weekend. Having someone there to lead the trip was great, allowing me to be in my little headspace and truly enjoy the day. Hopefully, he’ll be interested in chaperoning our next trip as well.
Tonight, House Esclavage’s large playroom is decorated in every unicorn party supply they could find. There are also the usual coloring and crafting corners, a life-size chess set, a train set, and a quiet area filled with puffs and couches for cuddling and reading.
Tugging Daddy’s arm, I lead him to the easel by the door. Propped up on it is a large poster board with the evening’s itinerary. There is pin the tail on the unicorn, horn ring toss, unicorn statue painting, a piñata, and to end the night, story time.
Entering the playroom holding Daddy’s hand felt different than when I walked through the door with friends. Usually, we’d rush to the snack table and discuss what activities we wanted to participate in and chat with the other single littles. Tonight, all of our friends made an excuse for not being able to come. I have a feeling they were giving Daddy and I a chance to visit on our own the first time.
Standing in front of the sign, Daddy says, “We made it just in time for pin the tail on the unicorn. It starts in five minutes. Do you want to grab a drink and do that?”
“Ummm—” I hesitate, not wanting Daddy to be bored. “Do you mind?”
“Mind?” He looks confused.
“I don’t want you to be bored,” I admit, biting my lip. The entire playroom is designed for littles to play, socialize, and enjoy themselves. Daddies and Mommies are welcome too of course, but they don’t play much.
“How could I be bored watching you have fun?”
“Really?”
“Yes,” he says, tugging me into his arms. “Let’s grab something to drink, and after, we’ll kick butt at pin the tail on the unicorn.”
I giggle, letting my body fall against his. “Daddy.”
With his arm wrapped around my waist, we walk to the snack table, where he hands me a delicious fruit punch juice box and grabs a soda for himself. I introduce Daddy to several of the littles I’ve become acquainted with. Seeing a new Daddy, Dante, the playroom moderator, comes over to check on me and introduce himself to Daddy.
“Is everyone ready?” Dante asks enthusiastically.
“Yes!” I cry, joining the chorus of other littles.
“Daddies and Mommies, please take your little’s hand and help them form a straight line.” He helps the unattached littles form a line.
“Come on, baby,” Daddy says, taking my hand and leading me forward. “Are you ready?”
“Yes,” I say excitedly.
We watch as Dante blindfolds the first little girl and spins her around several times. She walks forward unsteadily and places the unicorn’s tail on its ear. Giggles fill the room, and when she whips off the blindfold, she joins in.
Several littles go ahead of me, but none are close to getting the tail in the correct place. Then it’s my turn.
“Let’s put our drinks down,” Daddy says.
I hand him my half-finished drink, which he sets on a nearby table. “Thank you.”
“Stay still, baby,” he says, taking the black cloth and tying it behind my head, covering my eyes and blocking out the light.
“Daddy?” I call anxiously.
“I’m right here.” His reassuring voice lets me relax, as does his warm palm on my back. “Are you ready?”
“Yes.”
Daddy places his warm hands on my shoulders. He spins me around several times, moving me in one direction and the next, making me giggle at his thoroughness.
Stopping, he steadies me and whispers in my ear, “The ass is at your shoulder level.”
Giggling, I whisper back, “No cheating, Daddy.”
I feel his chuckle against my back as he gently swats my ass to move me forward, saying loudly, “You’ve got this, baby.”
I take several unsteady steps forward until I find myself against the wall. Taking the tail in my left hand, I attempt to remember where the tail should be and attach it. A cheer rises up behind me. I move back a step and take off the blindfold to see that I placed it correctly.
“Great job, baby,” Daddy says proudly, giving me a hug then pressing a wet kiss to my lips.
“What do I win?”
“I’ll give you your prize later.” Daddy grins mischievously. “But I think they might have something for you from the prize basket.”
“Yay!” I bounce with excitement. The prize basket is packed with stuffies and little puzzle games, and sometimes they even put in gift cards to an ice cream shop.
“Are you having fun?”
“So much,” I tell him, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I wish we had a club closer to home.”
“Me too,” Daddy agrees, taking my hand and leading me past Dante, who’s spinning another little around so he can have a try at winning something. “What do you want to do next?”
“Can we play a game of chess?” I ask, looking at the enormous two-person game in the corner of the room. I’ve always wanted to play but have never had a chance.
“Only”—he pauses dramatically—“if the winner picks our next adventure.”
“Deal.” I hold out my hand, and he shakes it with a grin. “You’re going to love getting a facial, Daddy.”
He groans good-naturedly and mutters, “I better win.”
After I grab my prize—a stuffed narwhal—we make our way over to the game. Once we start, it’s clear we both know how to play. Before long, a crowd is watching, cheering us on. The littles enthusiastically cheer every time Daddy has to remove a piece from the board and talk trash when he captures one of my pieces. The Daddies and Mommies attempt to give Daddy guidance he doesn’t need.
“Checkmate,” Daddy calls triumphantly, capturing my queen with his knight and ending the game.
A groan goes up from the other littles, and I flop down on the floor in defeat. A shadow falls over me, and I look up to see Daddy standing above me, his hand outstretched.
Grinning, he pulls me up to stand beside him. “Good game, little professor.”
“Where’s our next adventure?” I ask, knowing his choice will be something we’ll both enjoy. I step into his arms and let myself be wrapped up in his warmth.
“Upstairs,” Daddy says in a low voice, his eyes twinkling mischievously. “I picked out a special room for us.”
Chapter 13
Violet
“Happy Wednesday, Sally,” I greet the department secretary as I enter the spacious, sunlit lobby where the department has now proudly covered the walls with Etienne’s photographs, no doubt to impress visiting parents. “How are you?”
“I’m surviving,” she says cheerily from her desk in the corner, where she has a view of her entire kingdom. “I just emailed you confirmation that the cameras you and Professor Martin ordered have finally been shipped.”
Etienne and I decided it would be easier, and cheaper, to order new Polaroids instead of hunting for vintage ones. Plus, they’ll be available for students to use in future projects.
“Awesome!” I exclaim, excited that our plans for parents’ weekend are coming together. “I’ll tell Etienne.”
“I bet you will,” she teases, grinning at me.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” I glance around to ensure no one is in the office with us.
“You two seem awfully smitten with each other.” She leans across her desk and says conspiratorially, “I saw you two walking out of Champs on Saturday. Hand in hand.”
I internally roll my eyes at the annoyance of living in a small college town—you run into people you know all too frequently. It makes life extremely difficult for a little who is trying to stay hidden. When I lived in Philadelphia, I never ran into anyone I knew. I never had to hide.
Etienne and I had walked from my apartment to the diner for breakfast on Saturday, having slept at my place the night before. We had been spending every night at his house, but Friday night we went to our favorite local brewpub for a tasting. It’s located within walking distance of my apartment, and Daddy decided that since we’d both tasted quite a few delicious beers, we should sleep there.
I had thought it would feel strange having someone, a man, in my little space, but with Etienne, it felt completely natural. Maybe because he’s a Daddy and never judges me.
“Let’s go get your PJs on, little professor,” he said once we were inside.
“Do you want to watch a movie?” I asked when he took my hand and led me toward my bedroom.
“Only if you’ll cuddle with me.”
I giggled softly. “Of course, Daddy.”
I was curled up on the sofa, clicker in hand and waiting for Etienne to finish getting ready for bed, when he walked out of the bathroom and stood over me. I looked up to see him holding the unicorn pacifier I kept in bathroom cabinet.
“Violet, do you want to use your pacifier?”
“I-I only… when…” For some reason, I was embarrassed for having it.
“Violet”—Daddy perched himself on the sofa by my hip—“sometimes little girls use pacifiers, especially when they’re feeling really little.”
“I like it when…” I bit my lip. Etienne ran his hand along my thigh, which gave me the courage to continue. “When I’m feeling really stressed, upset, or really little.”
“I know you fluctuate with how little you need to be,” he said reassuringly. “We need to talk about it more, but how about for now, when you need to be a little little, all you have to do is grab your pacifier and Daddy will know. How does that sound?”
“Good.” I exhaled in relief before I reached out to take it from him. It could’ve been the alcohol or having an actual Daddy in my space, but I felt littler than usual.
Pulling the pacifier back, Daddy leaned down, kissed my forehead, and said, “Daddy’s going to make sure it’s clean. I’ll be right back.”
I heard him at the kitchen sink, washing the pacifier, and felt a tingle of excitement. With Daddy, I could be as little as I needed to be. All I had to do was tell him or show him.
When he returned, he scooped me off of the sofa, and turned around before sitting back down with me on his lap.
“Daddy.” I laughed, leaned my head onto his chest, and reached again to take the pacifier from his hand.
“Baby, let Daddy.”
Etienne brushed my hands aside and placed the nipple against my lips. I let him pop the pacifier in my mouth and he gently brushed his knuckles across my cheek as I suckled. He then rocked me in his arms.
We ended up watching a nature documentary on panda bears before Etienne tucked us into bed, pulling me tightly into his arms all night long.
After breakfast at Champs, we spent the rest of the weekend together. Etienne and I aren’t trying to hide our relationship, but here on campus, we aren’t advertising it either.
“Please don’t tell people,” I ask Sally. “It’s new, and we—”
“I’m no gossip,” she interrupts. “But I get you. People will judge. Not him because he’s a man, not to mention hot.”
I can’t help but giggle. “You think he’s handsome?”
“I said hot.” She grins, taking a stack of paper off the desk and fanning herself. “Maybe I should order more water for the workshop in case the women are extra thirsty.”
“How are we on the refreshments?” I ask, welcoming the conversation’s change in direction.
“I put in the catering order, and everything will arrive before the lecture.”
“Great!” I walk toward the bulletin board on the wall. “How’s the sign-up sheet for students staffing the photography club table on Saturday?”
She chuckles mirthlessly. “I’ll mention it again in this week’s department newsletter.”
The sign-up sheet has been hanging here for over a week and only has two names. Unsurprisingly, they’re my two best students, the president and secretary of the photography club.
“Thank you. I can’t be in two places at once.”
“Not to mention it’s their club, not yours,” Sally commiserates, rolling her eyes.
“True, but let’s be realistic. Half of them join for the field trips, not because they have a keen interest in photography.”
“Now they’ll join because Professor Martin’s co-chairing. You should’ve seen the waitlists to transfer into his courses once he arrived on campus.”
I was happy to relinquish the club when the department chair suggested that Etienne be my co-chair this semester and take over fully next year. That will give me more time for my scholarly pursuits and to improve the academic standing of the department. Unlike Etienne, who prefers practical experience, I enjoy doing research and writing articles for publication.
“Some of the girls are going to be very upset by their grades at the end of the semester,” I can’t help but tell Sally gleefully. My Daddy’s a hard-ass and takes his art seriously.
I make my way toward the wall of department mailboxes. Today, mine is filled with papers and textbooks sent by publishers in the hopes I’ll use them in my courses. I would much prefer my students read primary sources, such as newspaper and magazine articles. I also enjoy sharing vintage advertisements of the various cameras I cover in class.
I’m also writing my own textbook so that students aren’t forced to buy an exorbitantly expensive book they’ll only look at before their exams—not to mention I plan on offering an e-book version.
