Page 11 of Promising Little Poppy

Almost instantly, Poppy decided that she definitely didn’t want to spend time in the nursery. She couldn’t imagine drinking from a bottle, having her bottom covered in a squishy diaper, or having that most basic of human elements all buttaken away from her control. Yes, she desperately wanted help managing her life which would hopefully lead to the anxiety plaguing her on a near constant basis subsiding. But that wasn’t how she imagined that happening.

Sneaking a glance toward CJ, Poppy wondered if the woman could sense the hesitant curiosity Poppy’s felt as they took in the preschool area. Even if she couldn’t, Poppy was pretty sure she wasn’t able to hide the excitement she felt when she looked at the various books and blocks that were stacked neatly in the corner of the room or miss her mouth hitching up into a smile when she took in the dollhouse and art area. But when they made their way to the section of the wing reserved for Littles and Middles to take classes, Poppy didn’t even bother hiding the energy often reserved for excited Littles on Christmas Day that she felt coursing through her.

As CJ stood off to the side, Poppy trailed her fingers over the lockers that lined the hall. Slowly, they entered one of the empty classrooms, the teacher giving them access when her assigned students were at lunch. At the head of the classroom, there was an oversized, old-school chalkboard with the day’s lessons scrawled across the surface in cursive. To the left of the chalkboard, a teacher’s desk sat proudly, and an implement armoire was situated behind the desk, ready to be of service and stuffed to the brim with anything a teacher would ever need to discipline a misbehaving Little.

Poppy’s fingers itched to trail over the chalk. She looked over bookcases with textbooks on every topic from mathematics to fashion design. Her eyes took in the colorful posters that lined the walls. Like traditional classrooms, there were posters akin to those in any school across the United States. However, the Littles’ Wing classrooms, unlike traditional schools, also had posters with BDSM terms and definitions themed to fit into the overall aesthetic of the classroom.

“Do you think you would like to spend time here, Poppy?”

The voice startled Poppy, who for the briefest of moments had forgotten she had company with her in the classroom. Turning to CJ, Poppy felt her cheeks flush with embarrassment, but she knew that one of the most important rules she had agreed upon with the other woman was to always be honest with how she was feeling. “I think I would like it?”

CJ’s smile was small but reassuring as she laced her fingers through Poppy’s. It was a small gesture, one Poppy had agreed was within her boundaries. “You think you would like it. Why do I sense a but?”

Poppy chewed on her lip, a nervous habit she’d had for longer than she could remember. With patience Poppy would never possess, CJ waited for Poppy to elaborate, the silence drawing out between them.

Finally, after it was too uncomfortable to stay silent a moment longer, Poppy confessed on a whine, “But it feels embarrassing.”

With fingers still laced together, CJ led Poppy to one of the desks in the classroom. Once she was seated, CJ took the desk next to her, sitting sideways so she could look at Poppy while they talked. “Why do you think it is embarrassing or silly to want to spend time here, to want to spend time as your Little self?”

“Aren’t you supposed to be a fancy photographer or something? I didn’t know part of this experiment was that you were going to psychoanalyze me.” Poppy said the words with a roll of her eyes and sharp tongue she instantly regretted. From CJ’s surprised expression, Poppy knew she was taken aback to hear Poppy’s sassy back-talk for the first time.

“Excuse me?” CJ spoke with a measured tone that sent goosebumps across Poppy’s skin. “First of all, I will not have my kinks discussed in a way that is mocking toward my community or my preferences. BDSM is a lifestyle and, while it is temporaryfor many, I do not appreciate you insinuating that our short dynamic is some sort of silly experiment to you. I would assume you know better, especially after three years living here. Now, would you like to try answering that question again respectfully or would you like to continue to talk to me in a manner that will earn you punishment?”

Poppy shrugged with an exaggerated flourish, hoping against hope that CJ missed the embarrassed flush that Poppy could feel spreading across her cheeks at being chastised by her Caregiver. “It’s just… I-I’m twenty-seven. I should have my shit together by now! I should be excited about jobs and friends and plans for forever. And instead, I’m so fucking afraid that I’m paralyzed. I don’t know who I am, I don’t know who I want to be. All I know is that I can’t keep going like this. I can’t keep going, walking around seemingly okay on the outside when all I have is sadness and fear on the inside.”

“We’ll talk about that colorful language later,” CJ replied with a raised eyebrow in Poppy’s direction. Her tone softened as she added, “I believe that outburst was likely due to your anxiety talking and not an attack on me personally.”

Poppy’s mouth opened to assure her Caregiver she hadn’t meant to insult her, but CJ didn’t give her a chance to speak.

“I believe this is a perfect learning opportunity for you to see how your anxiety doesn’t have to define you. For now, let’s focus on what makes you feel paralyzed and spend time talking about how maybe spending time here could benefit you in a positive way instead of a way that makes you feel silly.”

Poppy could have fought. She could have pressed against CJ’s attempts at further help or used her safeword,red, but she was overly tired of fighting and her body was begging her to rest. Begging her to let CJ take over, even if it were just in steering conversation as a place to start.

For several days they focused on those feelings. Poppy even started to feel like she was getting the smallest of handles on her day-to-day life with the help of CJ who was patient and kind and quick to reassure her Little when Poppy was feeling down.

Poppy found herself enjoying the time she spent in the Littles’ Wing, too. She was excited to run into Miss Amelia whom she had previously met when the woman who not only ran the uniform department for the Ranch, but had helped Poppy’s university theater class with their costumes for a spring production ofHello, Dolly!

She was happily surprised to see some faces she recognized from her classes at the university and even more elated to meet new friends who all had Little sides, too.

And like many Littles before her, Poppy thought Nanny J was intimidating at first in her thick-rimmed glasses and slicked-back bun, but she quickly learned that even the Head of the Littles’ Wing truly just wanted the best for every Little who entered into a place that was quickly becoming one of Poppy’s favorites on the Ranch.

In the evenings, Poppy and CJ took carriage rides through freshly fallen snow and laughed together as they toasted s’mores over open fires. They ate meals together, spending time talking and getting to know one another like any couple embarking on a new relationship journey would.

CJ

Still, CJ craved more. She wanted to reach out and hold Poppy’s hand as more than her platonic Caregiver, to trace gentle circles on the inside of her wrist. To push her up against a nearby treeas they strolled together outside and kiss her until her lips were plump and swollen with use.

But she knew she couldn’t. That while she was Poppy’s Caregiver, that title only extended to the rules and boundaries they’d set at the beginning of their arrangement.

Hell, CJ had to remind herself almost hourly that the other woman was straight. That she simply couldn’t turn on the charm and try to make Poppy see that she was something special, something worth considering more, worth considering a future with.

Yet, for everything CJ couldn’t do, there was one thing she absolutely could. And that was to make sure Poppy had the best damn experience for the short time they had left together. It gutted CJ to know she had a hand in molding Poppy to the perfect Little the younger woman was slowly becoming. Because when their time was over, she would undoubtedly be handing the most promising Little in the world over to someone who would certainly never be deserving of Poppy’s affection.

Then again, most times, CJ wasn’t sure evenshewas deserving of the affection Poppy gave so freely either.

CJ was beginning to think that only time would tell. She just wished she had more of it to spend at Rawhide Ranch, and more importantly, with Poppy.

CHAPTER 7

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