Total pages in book: 34
Estimated words: 33048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 33048 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 165(@200wpm)___ 132(@250wpm)___ 110(@300wpm)
He laughs. “Sassy girl.”
I giggle. “You asked. I think I can make it like ten bites.”
“For one nugget?” His brows rise as he continues chuckling.
I shrug.
“No wonder you’re so skinny. I assumed it was because you work your booty off delivering drinks, but if you eat like a little elf, too, that explains things better.”
My cheeks heat, and I look away.
Noah reaches over and sets a hand on my free one. “Hey, I didn’t mean anything by that.”
“I know I’m kind of skinny,” I murmur. “Like I said, I’m a picky eater.”
“Have you tried any protein drinks?”
I nod. “They’re yucky.”
“Mmm. I bet you’d like the formula Little girls drink on the island. I’ve never met a single Little who didn’t like it.”
“Formula?” The word has implications. “Do Littles drink it from a bottle?” I know Regression Island is exactly as the name implies—a place where Littles live more regressed, but do they use bottles?
“Yep. Always.”
“You mean they only take bottles? They don’t eat any foods?”
“Not at first. The formula helps Littles acclimate to their lifestyle. No matter how much time Littles spend in their Little space on the mainland, they can’t fully be prepared for that level of deep immersion. Even Littles who spend most of their time regressed here are in for big changes on the Island.”
“Do they wear diapers all the time?”
He nods. “Always. Littles don’t even have access to bathrooms on the island.”
I gasp, my eyes widening. I also squirm on my seat. I’ve read books with Littles who play that young. I’ve thought about it sometimes, and heck, I’ve always known the island was reserved for deep regression. But I didn’t know the specifics. I squeeze my thighs together because the thought of having a Daddy take care of me so deeply makes my panties damp.
Noah gives me a slow grin. “You like the idea.”
My cheeks heat further. Why should I be embarrassed? “Yes.”
“Do you spend any time in a younger headspace like that, Little one?”
I shake my head. “No. I mean I guess I do in my mind but not outwardly.”
My hand trembles as I take another bite of my nugget. I’m still working on the second nugget.
Chapter Four
When we finish eating, Noah cleans up our mess. I offer to help, but he turns me down. It only takes a few seconds to stuff everything in the to-go bag and put it in the trash.
“Will you invite me to your party now?” he asks.
I push my chair back and accept his outstretched hand as he helps me down from the seat. It’s not as though I actually need help, but it feels good to pretend I’m not quite capable of getting off the chair on my own.
I also like the way he holds my hand as he leads me to my playroom. I point toward the small table and then skip over to remove one of my dolls from her seat so Noah can occupy the space.
He moves the small chair out of the way and sits right on the floor, making me giggle. He’s too big for my table, but he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Would you like some tea, Sir?” I ask in my best British accent.
He nods, his expression serious. “Thank you, ma’am. That sounds lovely.”
I set a tiny teacup and saucer in front of him as well as both my other dolls and my seat. After that, I pour pretend tea from my teapot, careful not to drip any on the table.
“Would you like some sandwiches, Sir?” I ask, holding out a platter of nothing.
“Yes, please.” He reaches up to delicately remove one of the sandwiches. “What kind is this one?” he asks, holding up the pretend sandwich and examining it.
“Cucumber and cream cheese on rye.”
“Ah. Do you like this kind?”
I scrunch up my nose and lean in to whisper, “No, those are gross, but it’s not polite to say so to the hostess.”
He laughs. “Of course.”
Noah asks me a lot of questions about my Little while we eat our sandwiches and drink our tea. I’m always polite to finish chewing and dab my lips with my napkin before I answer.
I ask Noah questions about his job. I find out he’s a realtor both on the mainland and the island. He works odd hours and hasn’t felt like he could fully give enough of his time to a Little girl.
This information is disheartening because even though I refuse to let myself hope maybe this day could turn into more days just like it, I still hate hearing that he doesn’t think he can devote enough time to a Little.
“However…” he says, setting his tea cup down and meeting my gaze. “I’ve been busier on the island in recent months than ever before. More and more people have been in need of my services. I’ve decided to give up my apartment on the mainland and move to the island fulltime.”