Page 20 of Saving Little Lina: Part One

I felt the corners of my mouth twitch upwards, the confidence I needed to navigate my new role washing over me.

As the day drew to a close, our words began to dance around the topic of our competitors, Hank and Joe, who we'd affectionately dubbed 'Team Daddy'.

"Imagine if Team Daddy comes up with a campaign about tech-enabled spanking paddles," I said, giggling at the ludicrous idea.

"Or an AI nanny who scolds the Little every time they're naughty," Mike chimed in, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

Chapter 7: Hank

In the quiet solitude of my office, I found myself accompanied by Joe. The hushed hum of the air conditioning system was the only sound permeating the otherwise silent room as I tried to focus on the notes sprawled on the polished mahogany of my desk. But my gaze was repeatedly drawn towards the glass partition separating my office from Lina's. There she was, a vision in her professional attire, a silhouette of elegance and sophistication.

Lost in thought, I found my mind drifting, pulled along by the undercurrent of recent events. The professional world of Apex Creations had unexpectedly collided with the personal realm of 'Kink', a place I had once sworn I'd never venture into again.

I had deluded myself into thinking I was visiting the club purely for social reasons—to reconnect with old friends. I had convinced myself that the path of a Daddy was one I had permanently abandoned. Then I met Lina, a single encounter setting off a ripple effect within me that I couldn't ignore.

The night at the club was vivid in my memory—Lina, choking on her food, vulnerable, and in need of help. It was in that moment that my protective instincts had rekindled. The sight of her struck a chord within me, a realization that she needed a Daddy, someone to ensure her safety. Yet, the thought of stepping into that role, of being that person for her, sent me spiraling into an abyss of doubt.

The day I spotted Lina in the lobby of Apex Creations, I'd felt a spark of delight, but it was soon doused with the icy water of restraint. I erected a façade of indifference, pretending to hate her. This self-deception was to protect my heart. Convincing myself and those around me that I felt nothing for Lina was my strategy to prevent the reopening of old, painful wounds.

The heartbreak of losing Bianca still haunted me. She was a Little, my Little, who chose to leave, claiming my protective tendencies as a Daddy were suffocating her.

Joe's voice suddenly yanked me back to reality.

"Hank, earth to Hank?" He smirked knowingly, an impish glint in his eyes. "You seem distracted."

“Sorry, let’s get back to work,” I said.

My office was a stark contrast to the boisterous muffled laughter emanating from the other side of the glass partition. The atmosphere here was far more formal, the mood a blend of seriousness and determination. Joe and I were settled in, geared towards a structured brainstorming session. Our focus was unwavering, despite our gaze being drawn to the glass partition at intervals, offering a glimpse of our rivals—Lina and Mike.

The relationship between Daddies and their Littles was intricate, woven with threads of care, guidance, and discipline. Joe and I, with our experiences as Daddies, approached our brainstorming session with this understanding, highlighting the elements of practicality, safety, and discipline that we knew were integral to our roles.

“Listen up,” I began, leaning forward with a glint in my eyes. “How about a GPS-enabled pacifier? This gadget will alert Daddies the moment their Littles wander off too far.”

Joe quickly took over, “And while we're at it, why not introduce an AI-driven tool? We could call it the 'Daddy Assistant.' This system will keep an eye on the behavior of Littles and suggest discipline strategies, making it easier for Daddies to manage their role.”

“And, what if we introduce a 'Timeout Timer'?” I said. “Picture it as a smartwatch assisting Daddies in enforcing discipline when necessary. This device can offer structure to their routines, and perhaps even make timeouts a little less daunting for Littles.”

Joe, with his signature grumpy demeanor that did little to mask his caring nature, nodded in agreement. “Discipline isn't about punishment, it's about structure and understanding boundaries. These tools could be instrumental in reinforcing that.”

It became increasingly clear that we were a force to be reckoned with in this competition.

The end of the day brought with it a certain serenity, the bustling office reduced to just a hum of activity. As I collected my things, Joe's voice sliced through the quiet, an idea forming in his mind.

"Hank," he started, looking at me with a determination in his eyes. “We need some real-life feedback. We should consider getting some Littles and Daddies to test our prototypes once they’re ready. Authentic reviews are what we need."

The suggestion hit me like a punch in the gut. It was logical, sound. However, to me, it presented an uncomfortable predicament. My reluctance stemmed from the protective shield I'd erected around my heart to avoid getting too close to Littles. Despite the unease knotting in my stomach, I found myself nodding in agreement.

As we wrapped up our day, I could feel my eyes drifting, almost instinctively, towards the glass wall dividing Lina and me. I could make out her silhouette.

Joe turned to me, his gaze steady. "Hank," he began, his tone softer. "Let me tell you something that has nothing to do with this," he gestured towards our notes scattered on the table. "Imagine you're stuck in a storm, okay? The rain's relentless, the thunder's loud, and you're soaking wet. The storm’s been going on for a while, and you're just standing there because you're scared of moving forward. But what if I told you, just a few steps ahead, there’s a shelter waiting for you? Would you still stay in the rain, or would you risk the few steps to find safety?"

I raised my eyebrows at him, puzzled by his sudden shift in topic. But as I met his gaze, I saw it— the knowing glint in his eyes. He was talking about me. We'd been friends for years, and I knew when he was dishing out advice, even when it was shrouded in metaphors.

His message was clear. Life is fluid. Trauma is a part of life, but so is happiness. Maybe it was time to move on from my past, embrace change, consider the possibility of future happiness.

Chapter 8: Lina

I clung to Mike's hand, my heart pounding like a drum as we sat in the waiting room of Dr. Luke's dental office. I'd always hated going to the dentist, the sterile smell of the office, the sharp instruments, the unnerving sound of the drill - it was all too much. And right now, in my Little state, the fear was amplified, turning the familiar environment into an intimidating maze.

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