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Dr. Zavodny can't seem to get comfortable in his first-class seat. His husband pats his hand. "What is it, Lucien? Your back or that you're worried about leaving your patients?"

It was true. Tom had to put up with this every time they went away together; he was never good company on the first and last days of their trips because he hated to be out of reach of anyone who might need him. He smiles bashfully.

"You know me well. It's the latter."

"Anyone in particular?" Tom teases him. Yes, he was aware of Mark and the miraculous effect he had on their sex life. "You know, you could text him to check in..."

"Tom, I can't. Boundaries. As sensible as that sounds, shrinks aren't supposed to be texting their patients."

"Silly me. But they can get a handjob from another patient while you watch?" he asks in a saucy tone.

"Shh! Well, maybe you're right. I can just make sure they're okay. Holidays can be stressful..."

"Uh-huh." Lucien gives his husband a light slap on the wrist. He sends a brief text to check in.

A few minutes later his phone chimes with a response and his heart skips a beat. Yes, the old man has a crush. His younger spouse is amused by it more than anything.

Mark sent his answer in the form of a selfie: Him shirtless in bed with his mate pulled close in oblivious sleep. Between them, she clutches a stuffed toy. His expression is one of devilish satisfaction mixed with what might be gratitude as he gazes into the lens for his doctor. Dr. Zavodny stares a long time into those hypnotic eyes.

"Can I see?" Tom asks. It's a clear breach of confidentiality, but Tom is the most trustworthy person he knows. "Sure. I guess he figured out how to get her to sleep," the doctor replies, handing him the phone.

"Oh my God, Lucien! Does he model?"

The doctor laughs. "I don't think it would ever occur to him. He's not really the type."

"Well, I can see why he preoccupies you."

"I care very much about the well-being of all my patients," he replies, a little hurt.

"And I love that about you, honey," Tom says, squeezing him. Lucien sends a quick smiley face, then turns off his phone and begins to switch his brain to vacation mode.

*****

(Two days earlier.)

Mark and Jenni leave the office together. "Do you wanna come home with me tonight?" he asks.

"Yes," she purrs in the slur of substate. He puts his arm around her and she leans into him hard as they stroll. She's a city girl who walks long distances, so has no trouble keeping up with his stride.

"Is it all right if we do a little shopping on the way? I ain't really prepared for this and there's some stuff we could use..."

"Okay. Whatever you want, Daddy."

"Man, I could get used to that."

They arrive at Target of all places. It's evening in December, so the place will be packed. It's something either of them would ordinarily avoid at all costs, but tonight it seems like fun. They have a secret and Jenni is feeling something she hasn't in a very long time: Pride. She doesn't know it, but her mate feels the same way because of her on his arm.

They go in and he gets a cart. Oh. This is a real shopping trip. Mark looks around as if making a plan. "Do we need condoms?" he asks nonchalantly.

"I'm on birth control and I've been tested," she says, grown-up for the moment.

"Me, too. Lube?" he asks, making her cheeks blush red. Her big eyes go wider than usual.

"Um, I don't really need it." She was already feeling the chill of her fluids cooling in her crotch and being near him wasn't slowing the output.

Mark makes a pleased sound in his throat. "What about underwear?" he says with a grin.

They head to the clothing section looking almost like a normal couple, but everything about this was kinky. "It ain't exactly a fetish emporium, but for us... oh, hold up." They were by a display of thick socks. "These fit your feet?"

"Yeah."

Mark throws a few pairs in the cart."Ya can't go around tekirdağ escort in the winter with those disintegrated socks. You'll get sick, girl."

At the underwear section, he looks her up and down as if he could see her shape through the winter coat. "I can wear a child's large, but they'll be tight, " she answers his wordless question. He grins.

"Okay, here is the game. Ya pick out things ya would've liked when you were little. We can use this as an exercise to get your head into 'little space,' as they say. Whatever ya want: December's a good month for me and I got no one else to spoil."

"Thank you, Daddy," Jenni chirps and kisses his cheek before skipping off to choose some little girl underwear. She doesn't have to look back to know his eyes follow her, as amazed by what's happening as she is. She finds the sizes for huskier kids and gets two packs of colorful cotton briefs with cartoon ponies and hearts. She almost expected him to have disappeared, but Mark is still there with the cart, waiting like any ordinary boyfriend dragged to Target. His eyes light up when he sees she got what he wanted.

"You should get some PJs, too. Maybe the big girls' section?"

"Isn't it funny how everyone seems to want little kid-looking stuff, even if they aren't like us?" It was true; the grown-up pajamas all looked like things you'd dress a toddler in.

"I know. We can hide in plain sight, baby, " Mark laughs wickedly. "Oh, I spy with my little eye..." Jenni saw it, too: Adult-sized animal onesies in plush with hoods and tails.

"Didn't that used to be a niche perversion?" she jokes.

"Who doesn't wanna be a dog sometimes? Which one do ya like?"

She picks the reddish one with a fluffy tail. "A fox? Yeah, you can be my little indoor fox."

"Because you rescued me? And now I'm loyal to you and don't even bite anymore..." Mark kisses her dangerously inappropriately, but they're in the forcefield of new love. The fox onesie goes in the cart, along with a couple nightshirts that will look cute draped on her little frame, falling over her shoulder...

"C'mon, just a few more things. I'm gettin' impatient to get ya alone."

"Yes, Sir." It just slipped out, so she glances up anxiously to check Mark's reaction.

"It's 'Daddy,' sweetheart," he says in a low tone and spanks her butt as they walk behind the cart.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll improve, I promise!"

"You're gonna be perfect. I ain't gonna get mad at ya. You're a good girl already."

They aren't speaking in private enough tones that other shoppers can't overhear them. Jenni never realized how much that excites her; she's never been an exhibitionist before, but after what's happened between them so far, she might be a lot of things she hadn't expected.

When they go by the toy section, she's surprised they stop. There's no way they are going to have the patience to play games other than the most perverse. How much did her Daddy need to set the scene, anyway? Well, Jenni knows she'll happily do it, even if he wants to watch her play with Barbies for hours. This man can have whatever he needs.

"Show me what ya would have wanted when ya were a little girl."

They wander through the aisles and this feels more forbidden than anything so far. She's always preferred stuffed animals to other toys and a white unicorn with a sparkly horn catches her eye. "That one. I'd have liked that."

Mark reaches for it and shoves it against her neck to make her giggle."Ya need at least one of these," he says and she hugs it. She poses it carefully in the child seat of the cart the way a little girl would. He smirks knowingly.

Moving on, they get her a toothbrush, Mr. Bubble, strawberry shampoo, and a rubber duck.

Last stop is the grocery section. "And what do I feed my little girl?"

"She likes mac n' cheese, veggie chicken nuggets, and tater tots."

Those items go in the cart along with some bags of frozen vegetables. "What. What would Dr. Zavodny say trabzon escort if I didn't make ya eat somethin' green? Ya gonna be a brat about this?" he says in a tone the oozes sex and causes a fellow shopper to snap out of her reverie.

"No, Daddy. Do I get dessert if I eat all my food?" Jenni asks, sounding authentically 20 years younger, like a weird magic trick. His exercise is working.

"What do ya want?" Mark squares his shoulders to her and steps close.

Jenni's eyes sweep up and down his body, lingering low for a moment. 'You' she mouths before answering: "Something with lots of whipped cream."

They hear the sound of shattering glass as the woman overhearing them lets a jar slip from her hands. She looks guilty and mortified. Mark smiles at her. "Don' worry about it. I'll say I did it. I got these big clumsy mitts," he says, holding up his hand in a friendly gesture. She rushes off and the Reddi-wip goes in the cart.

The check-out is the worst part of any shopping trip for Jenni. She can't stand the feeling of being boxed in and trapped. It would normally make her reach for a pill, but with Mark, she's just fine. It's the same for him, too: They calm each other.

"Daddy, you didn't get anything for yourself," she says softly.

"Thought it was all for me," he replies, pulling her closer. "So, what do we do first when we get home? I haven't decided on your routine yet."

"Whatever you want me to do, Daddy. I'm flexible."

Mark chuffs at that. He lowers his voice without really making it harder to hear, just thicker and dirtier. "Maybe a hot bath first for my girl, then I feed ya, then I fuck ya... Course we might not be able to wait that long. We might have to do things in reverse and have dessert first tonight."

Jenni squeals like the little girl she is, but quietly. It's just enough to let Mark (and those nearest to them) know that he delights her. It's finally their turn and he pays for all their innocent, wholesome, deviant items.

Out in the cold air, Mark looks at her, concerned. He can't warm her and carry the bags at the same time. "It's not far. We can walk from here, then we'll get ya warmed up."

"You live downtown?" Jenni didn't know anyone who could afford their own place in this part of the city.

"I do. You'll see how. It's not fancy."

They walk to a building Jenni was prepared to pass by without a second glance, not that her senses take in much other than Mark by her side. He takes out his keys and unlocks an anonymous metal door. They take the freight elevator to the 8th floor and it opens onto a narrow plywood corridor. There are no sounds of life.

"Don't worry. It's not as creepy inside," he says apologetically. "Most people just work in these spaces, so people aren't usually around at night. Ya don't hafta be quiet," he flirts.

Mark's place is the corner loft. It's one large rectangle with tall, bare windows on two sides and brick except for the interior wall where it was divided from the rest of the warehouse floor. It has a vintage beauty to it.

"I can afford it because it doesn't have a real kitchen and then there's..." a howling wind interrupts him and rattles the windows. "It's pretty drafty. There's also the bathroom situation." The back corner has a tub and toilet with only a curtain on a rail for privacy. "I don't have many guests because that freaks people out."

"It's better than chopping up the space by putting a box in the corner," Jenni replies.

"See, that's what I thought. But I know how girls are. If ya want, I can put up a couple walls, easy."

Jenni doesn't know what to say to that. No one's ever treated her like this before... like a princess, by her standards.

"It's really cool!" she says instead. "It smells like art in here." The place smells strongly of turpentine and linseed oil.

"Oh, shit. I forgot about that. I should have asked if you're sensitive," he says as he makes his way around switching on lamps that illuminate sivas escort the source of the scent.

"I'm not a canary. Can I look?"

"Uh-huh, if ya like," he says with the shyness of the better artists she's met.

She walks to the center of the loft, which is his studio. There's a large painting in progress. It's the careful first layer of a figurative composition. "It don't look like anything yet."

"I can tell you're good. Did you go to art school?"

"For a minute. Then things started to go wrong for me... in my head. I was homeless for a while, so I always wonder if this place looks better to me than it does to normal people."

"No, I like it here, too. I'm so glad you made it through that. You must be incredibly strong, Mark."

"I don't know about that. Anyway, if we get your core temperature up, you'll adjust to the cold dungeon I brought ya to." He walks quickly away to start the bath and then puts the groceries in the small fridge. Jenni walks to the window and looks down on the city street below. She wonders how much of Mark the outside world gets to observe through these windows.

"C'mon girl. Let me wash you," he commands like he's trying out a new voice-activated toy. Jenni grins; she can tell he's trying to play it cool, but that he's wanted this badly for a long time. She hopes she'll live up to his dream.

She walks to him and he encloses them in the round curtain that holds in some of the steam and heat. She still shivers as she strips her layers and her nipples tighten painfully amidst the goosebumps that spread over her pale skin before his eyes. He's unfazed by her old razor scars: Of course she'd have them. They're all old so he doesn't ask.

Jenni puts her toe into the tub and hisses at the hot water. Her Daddy watches her with fascination. The intensity of his gaze doesn't put her off because he's made himself vulnerable to her, too. She'd meant it when she called him strong. Slowly she lowers he leg into the tub then steps the other into the bubbles. He takes a soft cloth and begins to wash her standing as she adjusts.

"That feel nice?" he asks.

"Yes, Daddy. It's so nice. Does it feel nice to you?"

"God, yes. You're beautiful."

"You forgot my ducky."

"Sorry, baby. There ya go."

Jenni lowers herself all the way in and Mark meditatively washes her back. He abandons the cloth when he gets to her breasts to use those "big mitts" that are anything but clumsy. His sensitive fingers quickly have her moaning and arching her back into his touch. "Feels so good, Daddy," she whimpers in a voice to contrast the involuntary reactions of her body. Her legs rub together under the surface. He pulls her wet nipples gently before cruelly changing course.

"Get your hair wet, sweetheart."

He applies the sweet-smelling shampoo and the childish fragrance takes her powerfully back to being a kid. She must have used this one long ago. They both sigh as he massages her scalp. It's a rare treat for her; the place where she gets her hair cut charges extra and she's always skint.

"Are you giving me a mohawk?" she asks.

"Maybe."

Jenni thinks a moment and decides to ask him: "Do you mind that I have short hair? I know most men..."

"Nope. You're my little fox, ain't ya? I ain't controllin' like that. I know you'd stop cuttin' it if I told ya, am I right about that?"

"Yes, Daddy."

He'd obviously envisioned doing this because he rinses her hair with a bowl he fills with fresh warm water so she doesn't end up with a soap film. He carefully shields her eyes.

Jenni's waiting for him to get undressed and join her but he asks instead: "Do ya wanna stay in while I make your dinner?"

The thought of stepping out of the hot water did not appeal at all.

"Okay. You don't mind?"

"Nah, ya look comfortable. Bet ya don't get to soak livin' with roommates."

It was true. She didn't even bathe enough as she should, but that was mostly the dying habit of a depressed person. She grins wide at the thought of Mark bathing, maybe with the curtain open to make a nice treat for the adjacent building.

"What's that smile for?"

"I was thinking how I want to see you naked."

"You will. You're gonna feel me, too."