It was a piece of them they were willing to show the rest of the community, and I was thankful for it—even when it made my head spin. Because Lucian wasn’t deciding everything based on his own preferences. The opposite—he made adjustments and took Cam’s comfort into consideration all the time.
I wasn’t in a TPE relationship with Marcus, though.
“But how can a sub be a good boy if he doesn’t do what his Owner wants?” I asked. “If I don’t move to Denver, I’m not pleasing my Daddy, and that hurts him. So I’m hurting my Daddy, and that hurts me too. It makes me feel guilty and like I have to move.”
I’d said too much. I knew it the moment I saw the worry in Sloan’s face, the way his brows pinched together and how his forehead creased.
“I think…” He paused, maybe to rephrase himself. “We get lost sometimes. Our lifestyle comes with a fair bit of responsibility toward our partners, and it can be easy to lose sight of the line between everyday life and playtime, even more so when playtime bleeds into our everyday life.”
I was with him so far.
“So what I would do if I were you,” he went on, grabbing the Pringles can, “is to sit down and decide—remind yourself—which things fall on the playtime side of things, and which things fall on the everyday side of things. Like this.” He opened the Pringles and formed a line on the table with half a dozen chips. Then he held up a single potato chip. “This right here is a Little’s candy intake. I think it’s fair that Daddy’s in charge of that.”
I grinned and leaned forward, intrigued. “Not all of it, right?”
“All of it.” He smiled and placed the chip on the left side of the line. “A Little might have school or work to think about too. That’s definitely a place where the Little has to make sure he does what he wants, and Daddy will support him.” The next chip ended up on the other side. “We have to remember that we choose BDSM to enrich our lives, Corey. We choose to live out our fantasies and the roles that come naturally to us. When I go to work, I tuck away my inner Daddy Dom because most people who swing by to have their oil checked just don’t like it when I ask if they’ve eaten all their veggies.”
I burst out a laugh and shook my head—he was too funny!
I could only imagine Lane’s face if I went into Little mode when we worked together. He loved age play and had no issues calling someone Daddy as part of roleplay, but the actual lifestyle of Littles and Daddies, with or without regression, freaked him out a smidgen.
“What else can we put on the playtime side?” Sloan asked. “For example, how do you want your bedtime routine to look?”
Oh, great question. I tapped my chin and thought about all the things I had to do. Take a bath, brush my teeth, do my mindfulness exercises…
“I want Daddy to help me in the bathroom,” I said decidedly. “Maybe talk to me while I take a bath, then make sure I brush my teeth right, and help me remember to floss. And then I gotta calm down my brain with some exercises, cuz it’s usually chaos up here after a long day. And cuddles and sex and all that.”
“And all that,” he echoed in a chuckle. “Okay, then. I will place this next chip in the playtime box—Daddy will be in charge of your bedtime routine. But note that we discussed it first. Daddy has to know what his Little wants before he makes any decisions.”
“Oh,” I mouthed. I stared at the chip and rubbed my forehead.
Discuss and negotiate before Daddy took over. There was a novel idea.
Ouch.
“Is that what Master Greer and Archie do?” I asked.
“Absolutely. If Greer doesn’t have a firm grasp of Archie’s needs, he can’t safely put his desires before the slave’s.”
I frowned. I’d heard that in our community before. I’d heard it from Colt, from Greer, from Lucian… The sub’s needs came before Master’s, and Master’s desires came before the sub’s. With the addition of compromises. Everyone had to compromise in a relationship, which was best done outside of playtime, because that required sitting down with unclouded judgment.
Big-boy decisions, Marcus called it. So what had changed? Why had he insisted I start making big-boy decisions when I was in my Little space?
I swallowed hard and sat back in my chair again, and I kicked off my shoes to plant my feet on the edge of my seat. “Deciding where I live shouldn’t be Daddy’s decision, should it?”
Sloan sighed, and something softened in his gaze. “No, I don’t think so, little one. Where you live is such a significant part of the bigger picture, of your life, that it should be discussed, not dictated.”