Little Packages Ch. 02

"I was literally photographed thousands of times at that con," I said.

"Yes, but by strangers. It just felt...different. I was making sure you were good."

"You're very sweet, daddy, but you can have all the pictures you want of me. And I want lots of the two of us," I said. "I want to show you off."

Later we were eating lunch at a nice little restaurant that was quiet for a Saturday. Daddy said they did a lot of their business during the summer, but it wasn't as busy during the off-season. I was busy eating so it took me a moment to notice he was picking at his food. I could tell he was thinking.

"Is everything ok, dad," I asked. We'd agreed in the car that out in public today I'd call him dad or Ben, just to be safe.

"Just thinking about Meg. Things are going to come to a head about us sooner or later. Knowing Meg, probably sooner," he said.

Older guys always reached a point where they worried about what their friends will think about our relationship and it made me sad. For me, and many girls, you start young when it comes to chasing after older guys. When I was 13 I chased after the 17-year-old guys. That's when many girls discovered that if 13-year-old boys were immature assholes, 17-year-old boys were just a slightly more mature variation of asshole. It took longer, but you figured it out eventually.

The girls I went to school with either backed away and dated guys closer to their own age or took it. I doubled down. Well, maybe 22 was better. No? How about 30? No?

I dated a guy for three months last year and he had been 35, and I found out too late, still married. Ben was the oldest guy I'd been with. He hasn't asked and I was really hoping he wouldn't because he might freak out.

I knew a lot of people frowned on the age difference. But I knew what I liked. I wasn't some wide-eyed naive girl. I liked older men and was often the one convincing them it was ok. I just wanted someone older, kinder, and more experienced who could take care of me and make me feel safe. What was so horrible about that?

The hard thing was finding a man who was all those things and not embarrassed to be with me. I hoped Ben wasn't about to disappoint me. A lot.

"So what are you going to do?" I asked.

He played with his salad a bit. "The problem, you see, is that I'm a planner. This is what policy wonks do...we plan. Here's a problem, now research it, read everything you can, talk to people, talk to some more people and then write until your eyes bleed and voila! You create a document, a game plan where you advise everyone what to do."

"Wow," I said. I hadn't realized quite what daddy did before.

He laughed. "Don't look so impressed. I neglected the part where people ignore you, rewrite your advice, and then do what they wanted to do in the first place."

"Oh," I said. "That sounds...frustrating."

"It used to be, but then I realized I still got paid and they liked the work, even if they ignored it. You make your peace with it. Besides, the schadenfreude you get when they ignore your advice and what they do turns out to be a disaster is pretty amazing," he said.

I took a sip of my coffee and looked at him and waited for him to get back to his original point.

"But I don't want to be the guy that plans everything anymore. That guy never would have taken a leap of faith with you. He'd study people that had gone through May-November romances and see what they did right and wrong. He'd plan, analyze and then probably conclude it was madness to get involved with you," he said.

"That guy sucks, dad," I said with a hint of brat in my voice.

"Well, he had his good moments too. So I've been thinking of what I'm going to do, that doesn't involve doing everything I just said."

I must have looked confused, because he laughed.

"Yeah, I know how it sounds. Ride with me for a moment," he said. I nodded, curious as to where he was going with this.

"I'm greedy so I still want the next month or so just us and not have to share you with anyone else. The holidays are right out because there's no way I subject you to that kind of horror. Christmas is nothing but unending drama.

"Maybe after Valentine's Day," he mused.

"Oh god," I said. Inner voice outside again. Damn it.

He misunderstood my reaction. "Is that too long? We can do something sooner..."

"No, no," I said, interrupting him. "Sorry. I didn't mean to cut you off, but my birthday is February 14."

He looked puzzled. "What's so awful about having a birthday on Valentine's Day? I figure at least it's romantic."

"God no," I said. "First of all, it's worse than a Christmas birthday. People will combine gifts at Christmas, but maybe you get something awesome that they spent a little more money on. Valentine's Day, they combine the gift, but it's always something cheesy and 'romantic'. Do you know how much awful lingerie I've got on my birthday and then be expected to model it for the guy?"

"Oh god," he said, looking horrified but also trying not to laugh. "Wait, you're 19. How many years have you been getting shitty lingerie?"

"Since I was 13," I said. That got a bit of a look from daddy. I shrugged.

"The first few years it was from dumbasses hoping to wow me with lingerie. They didn't get anywhere. Besides, most of it was just awful. Not sexy. Not even slutty, which I could handle. Just...trashy and literally cheap. A 'hey, so I was in Wal-Mart and I thought you would look awesome in this, why don't you go try it on?' level of cheap.

"So I get one gift instead of two, it's crap, I might get supper in a crowded restaurant that everyone in town eats at anyway and then I have to wear said trashy outfit and I'm expected to put out. Bah, humbug." I said, ending my tirade.

Daddy started laughing so hard I thought he might not be able to breath.

"Ok, actually, I'm glad I know. I promise you'll get at least two gifts, and no trashy lingerie to be found," he said.

"You better," I said, trying to look serious and scary, which is hard when you're wearing a Disney princess dress. "Or at least make the lingerie trashy and expensive."

"Ok, so this is what I'm thinking," he said, wandering back to the main topic while wiping tears from his eyes. "I'll probably use Christmas to lay some of the groundwork that I met someone in New York, I like her but we're taking it slow and if things keep going well I'll start to introduce her to people after Valentine's Day. Does that sound ok?" he asked.

"You want to introduce me to your friends and family? You don't want to try and keep me secret? It's ok if you want to, I understand," I said.

I was lying, of course. But I was trying to be a brave little girl. Fortunately, daddy didn't bite.

"Why would I want to do that? Yes, it makes sense to wait for a few months to make sure this is a good thing, although I'm already pretty damn sure of that. But there comes a point where all I'm doing is hiding you from others because I'm behaving like a dick who is embarrassed by the age difference. I don't want that.

"You went to school for the last two weeks wearing your collar and I know you got crap for it, no matter how much you deflect. But you did it because wearing it means something to you. I mean something to you. How can I not be as brave as my baby girl?"

I wanted to jump across the table and kiss him. If he had said we're going home to fuck right now, I'd say there was no need, just find a secluded spot and I was good to go. Instead I grabbed his hand, hard.

"Thank you, daddy. That sounds good." I said, feeling a little teary. "Are you going to get a lot of grief over the age difference?"

He gave me a look I'd seen before in New York.

"As I said before, little girl, after you go through certain things, you learn what's important and what's not. Friends giving me shit over your age is not important. And they should know better."

I nodded. Ok, he might be a keeper. Then I had another thought.

"You're not waiting for my birthday so when you introduce me, you can say I'm in my 20s and not a teenager, are you?"

He took my hand and kissed it. "Trust me, princess, it's not going to matter. I can say you're in your 20s and given how young you look, no one is going to believe me anyway. They're going to assume I'm a lecherous pervert preying on a young woman."

"Pfft, like I have a problem with that."

***

After lunch we drove into Kingston. I ruthlessly grabbed control of his car's music system with my phone and subjected him to a K-pop playlist I had. Ok, so maybe I was still a little grumpy about the run to the jacuzzi last night. He suffered through it because I'm cute and awesome.

On the way I noticed the time and sent Gillian another text.

"Still alive. Not buried in a back yard." I hit send.

"You just think you're funny. Did you get laid?"

For a lesbian, she liked knowing about my sex life. I sent back a lust filled emoji. And then, for added badness.

"I think I saw another dimension for a moment."

"I fucking hate you. Was I getting laid in this other dimension?"

I sent a sad face emoji. Because I am a bitch sometimes.

"Oh fuck you sideways, bitch."

Which was fair.

"Today's phrase?"

"Heather and Lesley are stupid cunts."

"Yes they are. Go. Try not to spread your legs in the next hour."

"No promises," I sent back.

We finally arrived in Kingston and daddy found a place to park. I'd never been there before and other than the weird fetish involving an old rock band called the Tragically Hip ("Never speak ill of The Hip in Kingston, princess," daddy warned me. "I doubt I'll be able to save you.") it was a nice place. There were a couple of comic book stores, which we hit. I was reading a Black Widow graphic novel for several minutes when daddy gently took it from my hand and put it in the pile of things he was buying.

A little while later in another store I saw a giant Stitch plushie and made a squealing noise. Daddy promptly brought it up to the cash and bought it for me, despite my protests.

"You don't have to buy me all the things," I said, after we left the store and headed towards his car to put all our purchases in. I had been fairly grown-up at lunch but now I was feeling small again, which made me pouty. And then I added in a quieter voice "I want a daddy, not a sugar daddy."

He didn't say anything for a few moments and when we got to the car, he put the things inside. I thought I'd made him mad, that I was being an ungrateful little brat. Everything was still so new between us. At lunch I wondered if he was going to say something stupid and he didn't. Now I worried I'd said the wrong thing and he would decide I was more trouble than I was worth. Maybe I should just keep my mouth shut more.

I guess he could see that I was feeling sad, so he leaned down and tilted my chin up.

"I'm not going to be a sugar daddy for you, I promise. There will be no condo and lingerie budget. I won't be paying your tuition every semester and leasing a car for you. I want to be your daddy and for you to be my princess, my baby girl, my pumpkin and any other of a dozen little names I want to say every time I see you.

"And yeah, I have the urge right now to buy you all the things and spoil you because, you know, I'm head over heels for you..."

"Head over heels?" I said.

He made a flipping motion with his hands and I giggled.

"Totally bonkers for you. That means I want to spoil you rotten, which is probably not good in the long run. So we're going to come to an agreement. There are times I'm going to want to buy you something because it makes me happy to buy you things that make you happy. And that's ok and I hope you're ok with it. Good little girls deserve some spoiling.

"We are, for example, going to be buying you a bunch of collars," he said.

I could feel my eyes getting big. "A bunch? Why do I need a bunch?"

"You bought that collar at an anime table at the con, didn't you?" he said. I nodded.

"It is our first collar and it's always going to be special. But we can have more than one for you. One to wear if you want something more subtle. One if you're feeling like a kitten. One if you really want to be really little. One that you can wear in a shower and not have to rig it up to keep dry," he said, shooting me a very specific look to let me know he knew what I had been doing the last two weeks. Ooops.

"And not ones you find in a generic sex store. We'll poke around online and find a few that you really like and get something handmade for you. Does that sound good?"

It sounded really, really good. I had visions of multiple collars dancing through my head. All right, maybe a little spoiling was ok. I nodded ok again.

"And we need to get you some sex toys. Your shocked reaction last night indicates you need some," he said.

"Daddy!" I giggled in mock shock.

"But if it ever starts to make you uncomfortable how much I'm spending, or you don't want it, you tell me and tell me why and I promise to listen, ok?" he said.

"Ok, daddy," I said.

"If you really don't want the book or the plushie, I'll return them. It's not a problem and if they're making you uncomfortable, then I haven't spent wisely. Do you want me to bring them back?"

Now it was getting embarrassing. Because I knew he would, but...

"I kinda do want them, daddy," I said, looking down as I kicked the toe of my boot into the pavement. "I read books in stores all the time because I can't really afford them. And the plushie will keep me company in Montreal when you're not around."

"See, not so hard," he said, then kissed my forehead. "But I'll listen better from now on, ok?"

I nodded and looped my arm into his. We began walking back down the street towards the lakefront. A couple of young girls came rushing up to me, recognizing I was Merida and wanted to know where my bow and arrows were. In my best Scottish accent I told them I had to leave them in the car and that I thought, for the moment, we were safe from bears. They giggled and asked their mom if they could get a picture with me. Getting pictures with excited kids when you're cosplaying as a princess never gets old. I loved it. So did daddy, who was standing off to the side with a big smile on his face as their mom took the photos. They waved goodbye.

After that, daddy said there was a bakery he needed to hit because they had the best sourdough bread he's ever had and mentioned there was a restaurant in the area where we could get some supper if we wanted. And I continued to marvel that, so far, he was not only a kind daddy, and a pretty spectacular fuck, but who also listened to me.

And the best part was he didn't even know how rare it was.

***

After some more shopping, another run to the car to drop things off, and dinner, it had gotten dark. I could see people in costumes heading towards Springer Market Square, where there was going to be music. Daddy asked if I wanted to go for a while. And I did, even though part of me wanted to get back to his house...home so we could fuck some more.

I touched my bag where I had the other costume. I'd never had the guts to wear it out in public before. If it was still freezing I could easily blow off the idea because it would be too cold. But the temperature had gone up steadily throughout the day and even with the sun down, it was still mild.

"I'm going to go change into my other costume, daddy," I said, gesturing towards a hotel. "Can you wait in the lobby for me to come out?"

"Of course," he said.

I blew past the front desk clerk who didn't even glance at me as daddy was there. The bathroom was mercifully empty. I went into the handicap bathroom stall, feeling mildly guilty, but it had more space. I hung up the cloak, which I would be needing again, and quickly took off my dress. Next to go were panties and my bra. Which left me naked except for my boots. The floor looked like it had been cleaned recently so, with reluctance, I temporarily took off my boots, leaving me just in socks.

Step one - Snug nude panties which I pulled up over my hips. It minimized the chance that I was going to flash my pussy at someone and get arrested for indecent exposure.

With that taken care of the boots went back on so I could at least not freak out about the bathroom floor. Next up, I put the "chainmail" loincloth across my hips and then the chainmail bikini top over over my breasts and adjusted things. They weren't real, of course. I couldn't afford real chainmail, but with the right materials I could fake it pretty well until you got up real close.

I put the metal hair band in to push back my hair, and bracelets on my up arms. Then leather straps on my thighs and looped the leather belt with pouches and a holder for my "sword" over my hips.

Then I grabbed my make-up kit out of my bag along with a pair of fake leather gauntlet-style gloves, stuffed the old outfit in, and walked out of the stall. Fortunately, there was still no one in the bathroom. I spent the next 10 minutes working quickly on my make-up. More lipstick and eyeshadow, yes, but also some smears of "dirt" and "blood" to make me look more like a barbarian who just had a rough time.

Then I slid on the gauntlets and threw the cloak back on over my shoulders. I posed in the mirror. Six things became obvious to me:

1. The pink collar was not going to work with the outfit. It killed me, but I was going to have to ask daddy to take it off so I could put the costume jewelry necklace on.

2. I looked damn hot. I knew I was skinny and this was an outfit that required more curves and/or muscles and this was a rush job getting ready, but still, I looked really good.

3. I was also showing off a lot of skin, which was making me a bit nervous.

4. The cloak could hide some of the skin if I got too nervous.

5. But I was in Kingston and nobody knew me.

6. And I had daddy there to protect me.

Then I thought of a seventh thing.

7. There is no way we're getting back to daddy's house with me looking like this without me getting fucked again.

Sold. I grabbed the cheap looking collapsable sword (I really needed to work on my props) took a deep breath, threw the cloak back so nothing was hidden, and strolled out of the bathroom.

Daddy was sitting on a chair pointed towards the bathroom. He was looking at his phone when he noticed me coming out. I could see his eyes get large and he used his cane to stand up and come towards me.

"God damn, princess. You look spectacular," he said, giving me a kiss on the cheek, which I appreciated. Didn't want to mess up my make-up after all.

"It's not too much?" I said, giving him a little pose.

"If it's much less you'll get arrested," he said with a grin.

"Can you get the key to my collar?" I asked. "I hate taking it off..."

"But Red Sonja wasn't really known for walking around with a pink collar?" he said. "No problem." He took out his car keys, and there was my little lock key. I liked that he had it with him. He quickly popped off the lock and took it and my collar and put it in his jacket pocket. It felt weird not having it around my neck. I quickly put on the metal necklace that went with the costume. It looked good, but I missed my collar.

I handed daddy my bag filled with stuff. If you're going to date a cosplayer, you need to learn to be a beast of burden. We headed out the door and towards the Square where I could already hear music playing. Daddy asked if I wanted him attached to my hip or to give me some place to strut. It's a weird thing when cosplaying. You do get into the character. I was not a reckless, loner barbarian, deadly with the sword, who lived to drink and fuck as much as possible. But walking out of the hotel, seeing some people already turning their heads at me there were only two ways to go...wrap myself up in the cloak and run back to daddy, or adopt the swagger.