Little Packages Ch. 11

That has been a fight and a half. Kitten wanted to stop using birth control last September. After many conversations and arguments, including me pointing out she could be writing final exams eight months pregnant, which would be unpleasant, she agreed to wait until school was almost over. March 1 was her next appointment. She was skipping it, so we were soon off to the races.

"So she wants to blow off some steam?" I said.

Meg huffed, so no.

"Yes, but she's young and hot. She has an exhibitionist streak. She's still sexually curious. And a beautiful, confident woman has flattered her, told her she's sexy and should go to a club filled with other sexy people.

"Next year she might be a married mom working a job. I know you're determined to make sure things don't settle into a routine. And Kit is smart enough to know what she's getting into by marrying and starting a family so young. But right now, she loves you, trusts you to protect her, so she wants to see what the big deal is.

"If you relax and get your head out of your ass, you might even have some fun. There are going to be a lot of very envious men and women at that club that night. I mean, she's well out of your league," Meg said, smirking.

"Thank God for my best friend," I said, trying to drip as much sarcasm as I could into the response. As was often the case with Meg, she just chose to ignore it.

"I know. If not for me you'd probably find a way to fuck this up," she said.

I gave her what passed for an annoyed look. She ignored it and focused on her salad. She also had so much time; she had a meeting in 45 minutes she couldn't miss.

"Have you thought about joining us?" I said. "July is a long way off."

Now it was my turn to be on the receiving end of daggers. She slowly finished chewing her mouthful of salad.

"I'm a sexual camel, my friend. I went years before last summer. I've got enough to get me through to July," she said. I very nearly spit my sandwich across the table at her, which got her to laugh, if nothing else.

"Besides, Kit asked the same thing and I already declined. You'll both be fine. I've heard of the club and it's not sleazy or anything. Talk to Rachelle if you have any questions before going," she said.

"We're seeing her in two weeks for a....supply run," I said. "I'll find a few minutes to talk to her alone."

"And hey, I don't think she's Machevelian enough to plan it that way, but it's been a distraction for you, hasn't it?"

I paused mid-bite and put down my sandwich.

"Son of a bitch," I said. She was right. I'd been so distracted by this I'd spent no time obsessing about my mom.

We finished demolishing our food and Meg glanced at her phone, her way of saying we needed to get going. Besides, public servants were eyeing our table and it would get ugly if we didn't move along in a courteous Canadian way.

As we were walking back to her office, I thanked her again for the advice.

"Name your first kid or something after me," she said.

"Well, you're going to be the kid's godmother, obviously," I said.

That actually got Meg to stop dead in her tracks and look at me. I could tell she was touched that we'd thought that far ahead and already decided. She shook her head and then turned away to compose herself.

By the time she turned around, she was back to her normal self.

"Thanks, she said. Then added, "Look I'm flattered to be its godmother; just make sure the both of you don't die. I have no idea how to take care of a kid."

I laughed. "We'll do our best not to die."

***

(2 weeks later. March)

Just as I was opening the door to Kitten's apartment, I got her text. "Running late. Find a place to hang out. Should be there in 15 minutes." It was her way of saying don't got into the apartment without me, about 10 seconds too late.

I walked in and there was Kris in a cut-off t-shirt and sweatpants. She was drinking milk straight from the carton and I would bet all the money in my wallet that she hadn't paid for it.

If Kitten was frustrated with Kris, I had reached the point of viewing her as a science experiment. Kitten and I were likely going to have kids. They could grow up and become exactly like Kris; beautiful, somewhat smart, and utterly directionless with no clue how to find one. How could I help her find one?

I viewed her as a wayward child and certainly not as clever or focused as her friend. Her view of me had downgraded from curiosity, to pervert, to a huge pain in her ass. The idea of having to spend 15 minutes making small talk waiting for Kitten filled me with dread. I sighed internally and walked in.

"She's not here," Kris said.

"I know. I just got a text letting me know she's running late," I said. I went over to the small kitchenette and grabbed a piece of fruit. Kris flopped on the couch and looked at her phone. I sat at the kitchen table and did the same. Maybe I'd get lucky and spend 15 awkward minutes of quiet as we stared at our phones. It occurred to me we'd never actually been alone together.

"I should be going with you tomorrow night. I can't believe you're taking Ashley to a fucking sex club and I'm not coming along," she groused, not looking up from her phone.

Kitten and Kris had already gone 15 rounds on this. Kris had a few more left in her.

"You weren't invited and I'm not pissing off the person who extended our invite," I said, trying to be as neutral as possible. It was also true.

"Oh please. I should be there. I'm Ashley's friend. She needs me there to watch her back," she said, looking at me now instead of her phone. Her refusal to call Kitten by her preferred name, or even Kit, was always something that grated on my nerves. Kitten just rolled her eyes at it.

Kitten and I had talked about this quite a bit over the last few months. I'd offer to help her deal with the situation. After all, the two of us had worked out pretty well and I'd been able to help her get through some challenging situations. Kitten gave me a somewhat pitying look.

"You are good, Daddy. And I appreciate everything you've done. But not all girls are the same. So yeah, we mesh well. You want to help and I'm in a place where I recognize the wisdom of much of what you say," she told me. "Kris just sees you as another adult, one that's ruining me, and denying her what she wants."

"Which is?"

Kitten shrugged her shoulders. "She has no idea. She just knows you're just the latest person getting in her way of having it."

"That makes absolutely no..." I started and then saw Kitten smile and tilt her head at me. One of those "Oh, Daddy, you're adorable when you're clueless" looks.

"Plus, and I love her, Kris could get her PhD in manipulation. The amount of trouble I got into when I was younger because of her was unreal. But she always made it sound like such a good idea at the time," Kitten said. "I love you, but you really can't handle a borderline crazy 22-year-old girl."

I resolved to be the sympathetic ear when she complained about Kris, rather than the one helping her solve the problem. Still, I didn't feel like being kicked around while waiting for Kitten.

"Last time I checked, the ring I put on her finger means I've got her back, Kris. She'll be perfectly safe, as she always is with me," I said, keeping my voice as calm as I could.

Kris's eye roll could probably be heard next door.

"Oh please. Ashley always had a weakness for older guys, but most of them were so skeevy it was easy for me to tell her she needed to break it off. I have no idea what you've gotten done to her, convincing her to use that ridiculous name, convincing her to get married at 22, and now letting her think a sex club is a good idea, but it's fucking bullshit. I know you're up to something," she said.

Manipulation, or a friend genuinely worried about another friend? Kitten was right; I didn't have the skills to handle this kind of thing.

Fortunately, I was engaged to someone who did.

"Enough, Kris," Kitten said, standing in the doorway with her enormous TARDIS bag over her shoulder. She stomped into her apartment, tossed her bag on the floor and marched up to Kris.

"You don't want to go to the club tomorrow night to have my back. You want to go and get dirt so you can gossip to friends back in Saskatchewan. So you can put me down and so they can think I'm an even bigger slut. Which I do not care about, because I'm never going back there again. But that doesn't mean you get to boost yourself at my expense.

"And you're not invited because you're not mature enough to go there. You'll get drunk and be kicked out within an hour. Just like you were getting drunk on shifts at the bars you were fired from," she said. The last bit was news to me. Kitten hadn't elaborated why Kris had been fired.

"I love you, Kris. But my patience is just about done. I have explained to you again and again why Ben is different from the idiots I dated before and you're not listening. You just attacked him. Apologize right now or you can fly the fuck back home to Saskatchewan tonight for all I care."

Kris had several inches and more than several pounds on Kitten. Plus, Kitten had just called her a drunk and a gossipy bitch. Still, never bet against a pissed-off redhead. That and everyone in the room knew she wasn't kidding.

"Sorry Ben," Kris managed to say through gritted teeth. She stared at Kitten a moment longer, shook her head, and then went over, grabbed her jacket and walked out, slamming the door behind her.

"Wow," I managed to get out. Kitten held up her hand and walked into her bedroom. I knew better than to say anything when she was in this headspace.

Kitten was a strong woman, stronger than she looked. Anyone who underestimated her these days did so at their peril. Those idiots at the hot springs learned that lesson. But confrontation with girls her age drained her.

After a few minutes in her bedroom, she came out with a couple of bags. We were going to my hotel room for the next two nights and then back to our home in Kingston. This seemed a disproportionate amount to pack.

"Just being careful," she said, reading my mind. "I'm going to be gone for a few days and she can be a spitey bitch when she gets smacked around like that. So I'm not leaving anything of personal value lying around."

"Kitten..." I started again.

"No. Not yet. Just...let's get to the hotel, and give me some time to decompress," she said.

I nodded, helped her with her bag and called a taxi. A half-hour later we were walking into the room. I dropped her bags before my arms gave out. Then I saw the look on her face. I opened my arms and she came over and buried her face in my chest. I just held her for a few minutes until she relaxed. Eventually we ended up on the bed where we cuddled until I felt her finally relax.

"Sorry, Kitten. I didn't mean to get into a fight with Kris. I know that was hard for you. I promise, nothing but fun between now and Sunday," I said.

"Ok Daddy," she said, her voice muffled in my shirt. Then she pulled back and grinned. "So, does that mean we can go to Rachelle's now?"

I shook my head.

"Feeling better, are we?" I asked

"Welllll, I find shopping for sexy things boosts my spirits," she said, giving me a mischievous grin. I shook my head in defeat and told her to get ready. She bounced out of bed and in record time we were out the door.

The first time we went to Rachelle's store, Kitten was nervous as hell. Of course, we'd only been seeing each other for a few weeks and Rachelle, while a sweetheart, can be intimidating at first. Plus, I was dragging her there to buy lingerie and sex toys, which worried Kitten a bit.

But now she was an eager Kitten. She wanted new lingerie and toys. And, just as significantly, to pump Rachelle for information on the club. We were both nervous. I was concerned because I was uncertain what to expect, no matter how much research I did.

Kitten was nervous because she wanted to wear the right outfit and lingerie for the occasion. Again, not something I thought my fiance would ever have to worry about.

When we walked through the door of the boutique, Rachelle turned and smiled. Kitten walked over and gave her a hug. Others might view such a warm welcome as odd, but Rachelle was just that kind of welcoming, friendly person. As for Kitten, I think she viewed Rachelle as a part of her sexually growing up process.

"It's good to see both of you," Rachelle said. "It's been far too long. And look at you, Kitten. You look much better than when I saw you last."

Kitten blushed but didn't argue the point. Rachelle was the kind of woman that arguing only went so far, and she didn't have much time for false modesty. If she said you were a thing, odds are she was right and you should just accept it and move on.

"And you, Ben. Other than needing to dress nicer, you are looking much better. Carrying less sorrow with you, I think," she said.

See? She was right on both counts.

Kitten cut in, as she was practically bouncing on her toes.

"Daddy, can I?" she started. I waved my hand and she began moving quickly through the store. It was similar to unleashing a kid at a Toys R Us, except this was sex toys and lingerie. She went over to a shelf and quickly pulled out a glass dildo, scrutinized it, nodded her head, and continued to look at the other things for sale.

"She is a remarkable young woman. So much more confident in who she is now compared to two years ago, when she knew she had desires but had no idea what to do with them," Rachelle said, as the two of us trailed behind Kitten at a distance.

"She is remarkable, but she also manages to surprise me from time to time."

Rachelle smiled, knowing exactly what I was talking about.

"You are surprised she wants to go to the Club. I am not. It makes perfect sense. She's young, beautiful, desirable, hungry for new experiences, but also wants to be safe. She is safe with you, and the Club is a safe space to be with you," she said.

I stopped and casually looked at a 12-inch long dildo. Thankfully, Kitten hadn't. She already had a couple in her hands and had moved along to butt plugs.

"It's the paranoia and insecurity of a 50-year-old man with a much younger fiance. Intellectually I know she loves me and she's explained why she wants to go. And I'm fine with that. But emotionally..." I started before trailing off.

Rachelle took a few steps in front of me, then turned around, blocking Kitten and I from being able to look at each other. She got a serious look on her face.

"She loves you; you love her. I caution against overthinking things or questioning her motives. I have seen men do this before and it never ends well for the couple. Besides, she initiated the idea. That's always a good sign," she said.

"How so?"

"I find when it's the man who suggests the idea, he's just looking for an excuse to cheat. When it's the woman, the relationship is already healthy enough that visiting such a club may cause nerves, but not drama.

"I'll be there with you tomorrow night and you'll be my guests. As I am well known so people will not give you any trouble unless they want to end up on my....bad side," she said.

I never wanted to know what it was like ending up on her bad side.

"Your Kitten wants to have fun, play with you, and have people watch her. There will be many men and women there tomorrow night who will deeply envy you and your good fortune. So, what are we not going to do?" she asked.

I laughed. "Overthink things. You sound like my best friend."

"She is a very wise woman. You should have brought her or would she have been scandalized?" she said.

"Meg hit a few of these back in the day and I have no idea what she was up to last summer in Europe, but she's bringing two guests to our wedding. So no, she wouldn't be scandalized. She just doesn't want to see me naked.

Rachelle stared at me for a moment, similar to a butcher sizing up a piece of meat.

"Hmmmm, her loss," she said, and then reached up and touched my beard. "You think your Kitten will draw all the attention tomorrow night. You underestimate how many will be attracted to you, mon cheri."

That was the moment when Kitten choose to come around the corner with her hands full of dildos, anal plugs, and an assortment of nipple clamps. She had an odd look on her face.

"Bankrupted me yet, Kitten? I asked as she walked up to the counter and placed everything there.

"Hardly. I haven't even hit the lingerie section," she said. "Rachelle, can you help me pick out a few things? Daddy, if you want you can wait in the change room. He can come in and watch me model things, right?"

Rachelle smiled. "Of course. And I think you'll find our change rooms are very....discreet. I pride myself on privacy for my customers."

Kitten's eyes lit up and I could feel my cock getting hard. This was going to be an appetizer for tomorrow night's activities.

"Oh, before we go through some lingerie, can I show you some of my dress choices for tomorrow? I'm just trying to figure out what to wear," Kitten asked. Rachelle nodded her assent, and Kitten opened her phone and showed a series of dresses that were now hanging in the hotel room. I could hear Rachelle veto a couple.

"Oh no, dear. Latex looks sexy, but it's not easy to get off quickly, is it? Mmmm, maybe not. Oh, that has potential," she said.

Kitten vetoed my offer to help her pick a dress. Aside from wanting Rachelle's more professional advice, she also wanted it to be a surprise. I wandered around the store, looking at the different things, while the two of them hit the lingerie section.

Yes, I could have wandered over, but Kitten was having fun finding clothes with Rachelle. Seeing that I must be looking a little lost, Rachelle intervened.

"If you want to go through those doors, you'll see a change room with 'private' on the door. Go in there and get comfortable. We'll be a while, but it'll be worth the wait, I promise," she said.

I took the hint. In the back were two standard-looking change rooms. I opened the door with the 'private' sign and took a moment to absorb everything. There were several pictures of erotic art, an oversized leather couch was against one wall, and a small refrigerator. Inside was a bottle of white wine, along with some water and snack foods. A note on top of the fridge said to help ourselves. There was also a Bluetooth speaker that I could sync with my phone for music.

Finally, there was a translucent privacy screen, allowing Kitten to be able to change. It was a nice set-up.

I spent some time fussing with getting music playing, and then after that tried to read a book online. The last time we were here, Kitten bought lingerie emphasizing pet play and her littleness. Rachelle helped her with that. Now I wondered what she would come up with now.

After about 30 minutes, the door opened. Kitten burst through with a small mountain of clothing and made a dash for the screen before I could see what she had. Rachelle stuck her head in and smiled.

"Your Kitten has excellent taste. I have some other customers to take care of, but do take your time, and don't worry about being disturbed. You'll have plenty of privacy back here."

I said thanks and Kitten began tossing clothes over the top of the screen. Rachelle gave a quiet laugh and closed the door.

"Having fun, Kitten?" I asked.

"I always have fun spending your money, Daddy," she said. Which wasn't entirely accurate; she still flinched when I paid for things like plane tickets or meals. She told me she was looking forward to graduating and having a real job for no other reason than to start paying for more things herself.

But for 'fun' things like lingerie, sex toys, and items she knew we were both going to get a charge out of, she had relaxed her views.

"So, how much damage are you doing to me today?" I asked. I knew it would be considerable, but hearing her giggle after the year we'd been having was not something you could put a dollar figure on.