Convincing Leah by Becca Jameson

Chapter 13

Leah

When we enter the great room, Craig points at the table. “You need to eat. You’ve had nothing but pancakes today. Sit. I’ll make you a sandwich.”

I climb onto the chair and stare at myself, still uncertain about this trial we’re doing and how I feel about these clothes my meddling friend has brought me.

I’m swinging my bare feet when Craig sits next to me, sliding a plate in front of me. “I asked Eve if you were allergic to anything. She said no.”

I grin. “Peanut butter and jelly?”

He gives one of my braids a tug. “Little girls love PB and J, right?”

I nod and pick up the first triangle. He has not only cut the sandwich into four triangles, but he has also removed the crust. I moan around the first bite. I haven’t had a PB and J in years.

Craig stands. “I’ll get you a drink.” He doesn’t ask me what I want. He just returns with a sippy cup of milk.

My plate also has apple wedges on it. He’s sprinkled them with cinnamon. “Mmm.” I love this part of age play. Someone fixing me foods. Yummy foods that kids like. A luxury.

I’ve finished eating and Craig is wiping my face when the doorbell rings. “That’ll be Master Quinten. Good timing.” He lifts me from the chair and sets me on my feet as if I couldn’t have done so myself before heading for the door.

I approach awkwardly, feeling like I’m in someone else’s skin, beyond uncertain about this idea. I force myself to keep my hands at my sides, but I’m stressed about my outfit and the missing bra.

Intellectually, I know Master Quinten would never in a million years indicate shock. It’s not in his nature. Plus, as a clinical psychologist, he wouldn’t judge a soul.

After shaking Craig’s hand in greeting, he smiles broadly at me. “Hey, Leah. I heard you went through quite an ordeal yesterday.”

“Yes, Sir.”

Craig waves toward the sectional. “Please. Have a seat wherever you’d like. We really appreciate you coming over like this. It’s above and beyond.”

Master Quinten smiles warmly as he chooses a seat on one end of the sectional. “My last client was a bit earlier than usual today, so this worked out perfectly.”

“Can I get you something to drink?” Craig asks.

“No. Thank you. I’m fine.”

Craig sets his hands on my shoulders. “Do you want me to stay in the room for a few minutes, sweetheart? Or go into my office?”

I tip my head back, shocked. “Stay please.” I look at Master Quinten. “Can he stay?”

“Of course. Whatever makes you most comfortable.”

Craig sits across from Master Quinten and I hedge for half a second before doing the strangest, most natural thing. I climb up onto his lap.

He doesn’t flinch. He settles me on one knee and pats my thigh.

Maybe this is weird, but it’s what feels right to me. I’m comforted by his touch. I want his hands on me and to feel his warmth while I do this.

And what is this? I’m suddenly nervous.

“Have you ever had counseling before, Leah?” Master Quinten asks.

“No, Sir.” I shake my head, feeling ridiculously small and little and scared.

“No reason to be nervous. Think of me as a friend who happens to know a lot about how the human brain processes stress. Hopefully, I can help you work out some things. Okay?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“If calling me Sir feels right to you at the moment, that’s what you should call me, but you don’t have to. Do what’s comfortable.”

I nod. I’m sitting stiffly, my hands fisted on my thighs.

Craig sets his larger palm over one of my fists.

“How about if one of you gives me a bit of a rundown of what has happened and where we stand.”

I look at Craig. “You do it.”

He pats my thigh. “Okay, sweetheart.”

Craig recants what happened to me between yesterday morning and now, while I sit perfectly still, my hands pressed between my thighs. He gives him the basics at least.

Master Quinten nods as Craig speaks, and when Craig is finished with the gist of the story, Master Quinten looks at me. “It makes perfectly good sense that you might be open to age play today. It can be a great way to let your mind heal after what happened to you. There’s nothing wrong with that.”

I nod.

“I’m curious about the story about your childhood though. It sounds like you had to grow up too soon and too fast.”

“Yeah. I didn’t have a choice. I was afraid if I wasn’t good and I didn’t take care of my mother, someone would find out and come and take me away from her.”

“That must have been awful. I can’t imagine the stress that put on such a young girl.”

I nod, trying not to let my emotions overwhelm me for the tenth time today.

“When Craig and I talked on the phone, he filled me in on some of his concerns. He said you told him earlier that you aren’t supposed to be naughty. Can we talk about that?”

I shrug. “I guess.”

“Did your mother get mad when you misbehaved, sweetie?”

I find it oddly comforting that Master Quinten is talking to my little. I’m in her space right now. I didn’t even know I had a little space, but I do, and my adult is nowhere to be found.

I shake my head. “No. Never. She was the best mother in the world. She loved me to pieces. She tried so hard to be there for me. I know she hated the burden I had to bear, but we had each other. Sometimes I think she lived past my eighteenth birthday just so I wouldn’t end up in the system.”

“So most of the time while you were growing up, she was still mentally cognizant?”

“Yes, but she couldn’t do things. Most things. Like, cook and clean and take care of me.”

“So, you had to grow up and be strong for both of you when you were still in kindergarten.”

“Yes,” I whisper.

“Where did you get the idea that you weren’t permitted to be naughty?”

I wring my hands together in my lap, staring at them.

Craig doesn’t say a word. He simply pats my thigh with the arm wrapped around me. He’s not pressuring me in any way.

“The doctor.”

“What doctor was that, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.

“My mother’s doctor. I always went with her to the visits because she couldn’t leave me home alone. We took a taxi until I got my driver’s license and could take her myself.”

“The doctor told you not to be naughty?”

I sniffle and nod my head, covering my face. Suddenly, I’m every bit the five-year-old girl I was that day. I remember it like it was yesterday.

“Can you tell me about that, sweetie?”

The memory brings tears to my eyes. “I was in the exam room with my mom, and I needed to go potty, but I didn’t want to interrupt, so I was trying to wait. I tried so hard.” I suck in a sob. “I didn’t know I was doing a potty dance next to my mom. I couldn’t stand still.”

Craig stiffens, his hand tightening on my thigh.

“What happened next?” Master Quinten asks gently.

“The nurse was going to draw some blood from my mom and that made me squeamish, so the doctor took me out into the hallway. He crouched down next to me and gripped my arm. He told me he was very sorry that my mom was sick and that I needed to understand that she was going to gradually get sicker and she would need my help.”

I pause, squeezing my eyes closed as I remember his words.

“Did you have an accident, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.

I shake my head. “No. I forgot all about needing to pee. He didn’t realize I had to use the potty. He thought I was misbehaving. So, he told me that I had to be a good girl from then on and help my mom out because if I was naughty social services would find out and take me away.”

Craig gasps. His hands come around me, and he pulls me against his chest. I feel his lips on my forehead.

Master Quinten pulls in a breath. “Oh, sweetie, I’m so sorry. That must have been traumatizing. You were so young.”

“Who would tell a child that?” Craig asked rhetorically.

“The exact words may be twisted a bit in Leah’s head, but that doesn’t matter. The important thing is that she left there believing she had to be good or she would lose her mother.”

I nod, swiping at tears.

“You were the most well-behaved child on earth weren’t you, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.

I nod again. “Yes. I never ever, ever did naughty things. I made good grades and kept the house clean and fixed our meals and helped my mom out every way I could. I didn’t complain or anything.” I know I sound like that girl. I feel like her too.

It’s silent for a few moments, and then Master Quinten speaks again. “And you’ve never engaged in age play before today?”

I shake my head. “No. I’m not little. I was never little. I don’t even know what it’s like to be little,” I explain.

“I can see why you would think that, but what if you could be little? What if you could go back and be the free-spirited child you should have been. Wouldn’t that be nice?”

I lift my gaze to his. I’m shaking at his suggestion. “I don’t know.”

“I’m not saying it’s mandatory. It’s not for everyone. But maybe a part of you would like to not be quite so good all the time. It’s exhausting, isn’t it?”

I nod as more tears fall.

“Why do you think you entered the fetish community in the first place?”

I bite my lip for a moment, thinking. “I was intrigued by impact play. I read about it and then looked it up. I watched it on the internet. I got such a high when I watched it that I decided to try it.”

“How do you feel when a Dom spanks you or flogs you?”

“Relieved. Like I’m absolved or something.”

“Absolved from what, sweetie?”

I shrug.

“Do you do bad things during the week and then enjoy having someone inadvertently forgive you by spanking you?” Master Quinten prods.

I shake my head. “I never do naughty things.”

“Never?” He lifts a brow.

“Not intentionally,” I tell him, my voice cracking. “I don’t do them on purpose.”

“Don’t do what? Give me an example.”

“Like if I accidentally cut someone off in traffic or bump into someone when I’m walking or something.”

“Those are accidents, sweetie. Everyone has little accidents during the day.”

“Not me. They make me feel bad.”

“And then you go to the club and get the slate wiped clean,” he states.

I nod. That’s it exactly. He’s made me see it much better. “I only go twice a week.”

“Why?”

“Because I don’t deserve to be forgiven more often than that. I should learn to be a better person. I can’t spend my life having a stranger forgive me for something I do to someone else.” I have no idea if I’m explaining this well.

Master Quinten leans his elbows on his knees. “Sweetie, everyone alive makes tiny little social blunders throughout the day. It’s part of life. You can’t punish yourself for them. No one even remembers that you bonked into them on the way down the street. It just happens.”

I purse my lips. I’m trying to understand, but it sounds messed up. Or maybe my way sounds messed up.

“First of all, let me make one thing clear. There’s nothing wrong with using impact play to cleanse your mind so to speak. It’s perfectly fine. Many people do it. There’s also no reason why you should torment yourself by enduring your turmoil for three or four days in a row, waiting until the next time you’re scheduled to go to the club. If it makes you feel better to get spanked every day, do it.”

I suck in a breath and stare at him. “Really?”

“Of course. I promise that’s not a problem. What concerns me is working through your misplaced self-recrimination. I’d like you to make an appointment with my office so we can work through those issues together. Once a week. It’s going to take some time for you to let go of all that noise in your head, but we can do it. I promise.”

I nod.

“In the meantime, let’s talk about age play.”

“I’m only doing it for one day. Just so I don’t have to think about what happened. Tomorrow I’ll face it. I promise.”

“Sweetie, I’m not admonishing you for trying age play. I actually think it’s a good idea. There are several factors all converging to put you in this state of mind at this particular point in your life. I think you might benefit from extending the trial. Let yourself relax. Be five. Play with toys. Watch cartoons. Get a doll. When you come to my office next week, we can reevaluate and see how you’re feeling.”

I stare at him, trembling. “Be little for a week?”

“If that’s okay with you.” Master Quinten glances at Craig. “Is it okay with you?”

Craig hugs me against him again. “Of course. I’ll do whatever you think is best for Leah. As long as letting herself regress to that age isn’t doing more harm than good.”

“I think it can only help right now. It might cause her to put off facing a few things, but that’s okay. She’s overwhelmed. There are too many things slamming into each other in her mind. She might benefit from not facing everything at once. Don’t be surprised if she doesn’t want to be alone. That’s common after an abduction. It’s also common for littles. When you put those two together…”

I glance at Craig. “You don’t mind if I stay here for a week?”

“Of course not, sweetheart. You know I’d like you to stay forever.” He tips my head back and kisses me on the nose. “I’d do anything for you.”

I blow out a long breath of relief. I didn’t even know I was holding it.

“Does the idea calm you a bit, sweetie?” Master Quinten asks.

“Yes, because I don’t want to go back to my apartment. I’m scared.”

“That makes sense, and there’s nothing wrong with that either. Anyone in your shoes would be afraid to go home or be alone. But what about letting yourself be little? How does that make you feel?”

I find myself smiling. “Happy.” And then another thought makes my face fall. “It’s only for a while, right? I won’t be like this forever, right?”

Master Quinten narrows his gaze. “I can’t answer those questions yet, sweetie. We’ll have to explore your options together. Sometimes when people miss out on part or all of their childhood, they benefit from going back to that age and having a do-over so to speak. They flush it out of their systems and go back to living in an adult persona. But sometimes, they find they like living at a younger age and they decide not to go back to the way they were living before.”

I nod, but it scares me.

“Some people come up with a happy medium, spending part of the time in their little space and the rest in an adult persona. Everyone is different. My suggestion is to take a week to let yourself be five. Five is the age you were when your childhood essentially stopped. It’s natural to want to go back to that age. Then we’ll see where we are, okay?”

“Okay.”

“Oh, and let’s address impact play. Instead of setting up a time for Craig to spank you twice a week, why don’t you let him decide when you need a spanking.”

“Okay.”

He shifts his attention to Craig. “Do you think you can sense when she’s stressed out and needs the release?”

“Yes. How often do you think is healthy?”

“There’s nothing wrong with spanking her every day if it helps calm her. Just don’t do it as hard as you would if the scenes were spread out further.”

Craig nods. “I wouldn’t spank her with the same intensity during age play anyway.”

“Good. Then feel it out. Watch for signs of stress, and spank her when she needs the release. It won’t hurt her. Some days she may need it twice. There’s no reason she should let herself get worked up into a frenzy, denying herself the release she craves for days at a time. It’s not necessary. We all relieve stress in different ways. Some of us escape into a book or television. Some of us eat or drink or smoke.”

I’m listening closely. Maybe he has a point, but I’ve spent so long believing I should deny myself and limit permitting myself to get the release I need to twice a week that it’s going to take some time for me to see things differently. Do I deserve to let someone give me what I need more often?

Master Quinten shifts his attention directly to me. “Leah, there’s nothing wrong with asking for what you need or letting Craig give it to you. If spanking your little bottom a few times a day helps you relax, sweetie, then let it happen.”

“Yes, Sir,” I whisper.

I lean my head against Craig’s shoulder, exhausted and uncertain and scared and excited and relieved and nervous. So many things. But mostly I feel like we have a plan, and that in and of itself relaxes me.

After Master Quinten tells me he’s looking forward to seeing me in his office next week, Craig stands and sets me in the corner of the sectional so he can see Master Quinten out the front door.

I curl into a ball against the arm of the couch, shaking a little. That was exhausting and left me drained. I don’t want to have to think about anything. I just want to be.

Craig is back at my side a minute later, his hand on my back, rubbing me soothingly. “I’m proud of you. That was hard to talk about and you unloaded a lot of stuff this afternoon.”

I smile at him. His words of encouragement make me feel better.

“How about we do some online shopping? What do you say?”

I sit up when he reaches for my hand. “What are we going to buy?”

“Everything five-year-old Leah didn’t have when she was five.”

I slide to the floor and skip alongside Craig as we head for his office. I feel lighter and excited.

As soon as he sits in his office chair, I worm myself between his legs and cup his face. “Are you sure you don’t mind being my Daddy for a week?”

He pats my bottom. “You know I don’t, sweetheart.”

“I don’t want you to think I can do it forever. One week at a time.”

He kisses my forehead. “Don’t you worry. The most important thing is for you to be the best, most well-adjusted Leah you can be. Whatever that looks like, I’ll stand by you. Okay?”

I nod and throw my arms around his neck. “Thank you.”