“The lines of consent might get blurred. I am the one who has authority over you.”
“You don’t need consent if I’m a doll. Once I’m a doll, I’m yours to do whatever you want. Anything, Daddy. Anything.”
“Cosmo—”
“Will you just try?”
“All right. But first, what’s your safeword?”
“I don’t have one.”
I frowned. “You never used a safeword with your previous Daddy?”
“Why would I need a safeword? When I’m a doll, Daddy can do whatever he wants to me. You don’t hurt an object, Daddy. Why aren’t you getting it?”
“No, Cosmo. If we do this, we need a safeword.”
“If I give you one, will you play with me, then?”
“Sure, but promise me you’ll use your safeword if I push your limit.” Sweet Jesus, what was I saying? I wasn’t going to do anything that might push his limit.
“See?” He beamed a smile at me. “I told you that you were the best Daddy in the world. You care.”
“Of course I do. I don’t want you to be hurt. Now think of a safeword.”
“Hmm, maybeeeeeee olives. I don’t like olives.”
“Great. That works fine. If you use that word, Cosmo, no matter what, I’ll stop. Do you understand that?”
“I do.”
“And if there’s a time you can’t speak, when I put my hand into yours, you’ll squeeze twice to tell me to stop. Once to tell me what I’m doing is fine. Is that clear?”
“Yes, can we play now?”
“No. First, tell me what word you use if you want me to stop.”
“I won’t want you to stop.”
“Cosmo, I’m serious.”
He rolled his eyes. “Olives.”
“Good boy. And if I put my hand in yours and ask if you want me to stop?”
“I squeeze twice to stop, once to continue. Can we play now, please?”
“Okay.”
***
Playing with Cosmo was unlike anything I’d ever experienced. He was really into the role of being a lifeless doll. He wouldn’t move unless I picked him up. We had a tea party right in the living room, sitting on the floor. Everything should have felt awkward and unnatural with him, but it wasn’t too long before I relaxed. He kept a smile fixed on his lips, and he listened to whatever I had to say with rapt interest.
“You look so much better than any doll, sweet boy,” I complimented him, and he flushed. He’d curled his hair, which hung down to his shoulders in bouncy waves.
I mimicked drinking a cup of tea. When he’d picked the tea set out, I’d thought they were meant for him to play with in little space. Never would I have imagined this was what he’d had in mind. He didn’t move at all, and I had to lift his arm to bring the cup up to his lips.
“That’s enough tea, don’t you think?” I took the cup out of his hand and placed it on the coffee table. “How about a nice show on the TV while I brush your hair?” I lifted him in my arms and set him on a stool in front of the couch, then rearranged his hands in his lap. When I was satisfied, I cleared away the tea party stuff and sat behind him on the couch.