Page 4 of Lakeside Little
Jack reeled the wire in. The maggot had fallen off it. He sighed. “Ok, well, firstly. This lure isn’t alluring enough. And I’m not saying that to be mean.”
“There’s a box of them,” I told him. “I was going to read this and see, but every time I try, I’m just a bit bored. I’m better with my hands than with my eyes.” I showed him some of thecallouses on my hands and he reached out to touch them. He was soft on them.
“Wow, you need some hand cream stat.”
“I wouldn’t even know where to start with that stuff,” I told him. “The closest I probably come to that is sunscreen. It’s important especially when you’re sitting out all day.” He chewed on his lip for a moment. “Did you put sunscreen on?”
“I got distracted,” he said, shrugging. “I’ll put some on when you come to the cabin and help me rebuild my dollhouse, ok?”
As much as I always preferred people to be protected from the sun, we were sitting under the trees right now, so there wasn’t exactly any immediate need. Plus, he was in the middle of showing me something I should’ve known how to do already. It seemed you could teach an old-er dog new tricks.
Jack threaded fishing wire around a lure, the most colorful with chromatic shift with sparkles almost. “I’m not putting my hand in maggots tough,” he said, sticking his tongue out to fake vomit. “But you can. And then, you’ve got to take a really big swing, keep the line slack and let it fly out.”
“I used to go fishing every weekend. You think I’d be better at it,” I said.
“This the most masculine thing I’ve ever done, so keep expectations low about what else I might be able to do,” he laughed.
The was a nibble and a bite almost immediately on the line. I didn’t need help reeling it in. I didn’t lack in the muscle department. And after a couple tugs, the fish was right there, hanging on the hook.
“What is it?” he asked.
“A fish.”
Jack swotted my arm with the back of his soft hand. “Oh my god, I know that. I mean, what type?”
It was right there on the tip of my tongue. “A bass, I believe. You can double check though.”
He picked the book up and flicked through it to assure me it was a bass. “Is this a catch and release or—”
“I’m eating it,” I told him, pulling the bass off the hook. I’d forgotten how strange fresh fish felt right out of the water, the scales almost slimy to touch. “And since I’m not sure I would’ve caught it without you, I’m more than happy to share.”
Jack eyes the fish and then me. “Is that even gonna be big enough?”
“We can try fish for another,” I said. “But if you want me to help with your thing first, I can.”
“I have another idea,” he said, sitting his doll in my chair. “Can I take a picture with the rod like almost optical illusion in her hand?”
I placed the fish into a small bucket that had been severely underutilized. “Absolutely. I wanna see you work your magic.”
Jack snort laughed. “It’s not magic; it’s just practice.”
Yesterday at his cabin, he’d shown me some of his social media accounts for the doll. I was surprised to see so many people following him and engaging with that content. I always assumed it was niche and still fringe. But so much had changed since I’d been in the Dom and submissive spaces, especially those that engaged with Daddy kink and age regression.
I threw the line out again while Jack got his picture for the social media accounts. He was quick with it, snapping so many photos in all different poses. And before he could show me, I was reeling in a second fish. Another bass, this one a little smaller. It was a miracle, either that, or Jack was my lucky charm.
“Nory is having a relaxing day fishing,” he said. “I’ve got these plastic fish that she’ll hold up in another picture.” Heexplained that most of the time he was just documenting his life through the eyes of his dolls.
“Not to be rude, but you make money through this?” I asked.
He laughed. “Yes, it’s a community, and I get sponsorships which are really good and helpful, especially when it’s things I know people who love my content will also love.”
“That’s incredible. I feel ancient when people talk about tech,” I admitted. “Do they also play with dolls and stuff?”
“Some of them do, yeah, a lot of them probably wish they were,” he said. “You know, not a lot of people are openly allowed to express themselves, and that’s a crying shame because expression is such a pure form of freedom, and if you can’t express yourself, it’s probably like having your soul locked away in a prison. Not that I’ve ever been to prison.”
“Me either,” I said. “It’s a way of looking at it.”
Jack clutched his doll to his chest, running his fingers through its hair. “What’s your expression?” he asked. “The one thing that if you couldn’t do, you’d just rather die?”
