𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐴𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑙

8: 𝗱𝗮𝗱𝗱𝘆 𝟭𝟬𝟭

Either way I ignore them as my hands slip under Clara's resting body and bring her tightly to my chest just as she's curls up closer to me.

There is no better feeling.

No better than when her hand grasps the material of my shirt and she leans closer to put it in her mouth, slightly chewing. Hm, I bet she uses a pacifier. Sweet baby seems to be having a dream when she squirms a little and releases a hum of happiness around my shirt. For no longer than a minute, I just watch Clara in content before starting up the staircase, her new room my destination.

My dress shoes hardly make a sound against the glass stairs since I'm cautious not to wake the Princess up. When a small, barely noticeable whimper escapes those pretty lips, I rock her body against me and replace my shirt with my thumb. Clara instantly latches on to it in her sleep, then sends an electrifying sound out around it that racks through my body.

Perfection.

It feels so natural to push open Clara's door and slowly place her small body under the covers and gently pulling my thumb from her wet mouth. I tuck her in, the blankets pushed under and pillows pressed beneath the Princess's head. My finger smooths down a stray eyebrow hair and pats just above her cheekbone to sooth Clara's whining.

She settles down when my palm presses against the side of her neck.

Hmm.

I feel Slade's presence a moment later and Clara's stuffie comes in to view. He presses Ellie in to her chest and the Princess subconsciously holds her closer.

Giving a nod of approval to Slade - he's learning already - we both take turns pressing a butterfly kiss to Clara's temple and slap each on the back as we leave. A new energy in the room. A good one.

Vince is stood at the doorway with a soft, small smile on his face. His years spent in the army formed his solemn expression and mood, tainted by bad sights that no person should ever see. Ones that Slade and I took that past three years soothing, fixing. Hoping just for his happiness back again.

The three of us hold trauma and grief, only hoping for one thing: a solace.

For a moment, we stand by the door and bathe in Clara's beauty.

In that moment, I know nothing will keep my from protecting the pretty Princess asleep in her new room.

꧁꧂

"You mean to tell me, people let you look after them like a parent when they mentally regress? This shit is advanced, man." Slade says exasperated, letting go of a breath and slumping back in to the couch.

His eyes scan over the whiteboard methodically.

"It's not that difficult, dickface. Just follow the rules and we'll be fine."

"Ha," I bark out at Vince. He has no idea. "This isn't difficult?" I pace in front of them, using my pointing stick to convey just how serious I am. It has a an actual plastic finger on the end. Perfect to hit them over the head with. "Let's use Clara in our examples, okay? For the sake of convenience."

They both nod.

"Clara will be putting her upmost trust in us. You're used to that with submissives, but this is more. Clara will be in her most vulnerable state when she's regressed in to her little age, trusting us that she's put on the right track and is safe. This is more than sex. In fact, this has nothing to do with sex, this is her lifestyle." I exaggerate my words, hoping to hell that they're understanding. "There is no safe word that she'll remember. It's her, then and there, right in our hands. You have to be prepared."