Page 2 of Hunting Little Hope
One woman wore a sundress with tiny strawberries printed across it, her hair in pigtails as she swung her arms while walking beside a taller man who matched his pace to hers. Another person sat cross-legged on the carpet with a coloring book, completely unconcerned with who might be watching.
My steps slowed without my meaning them to.
I had known that Rawhide welcomed Littles. It was famous for it, in fact. I’d told myself I was comfortable with it. Supportive even, because even at other exclusive clubs, they weren’t always welcomed quite so openly.
But seeing it was different.
My chest ached at what I saw, and then I felt it. A small, sharp twist of something unkind.
Jealousy.
I straightened my shoulders as I approached the people milling around, instinctively pulling myself back into control. In my dark jeans and neutral top with my tidy hair, I looked composed. Capable.
The adult I had to be at all times.
Even though I was on time, it seemed the mixer had already begun. Drinks lined one table and snacks another. Staff members moved easily through the space, greeting people and basically being a quiet presence without outright hovering.
Someone clinked a glass, and conversation softened.
A large man with salt and pepper hair, a beard, and a clear Dominant demeanor cleared his throat.
“Welcome everyone, to Rawhide Ranch’s summer dating event. My beautiful wife and Little brat, Sadie, came up with the idea of expanding this year’s event, and we’re very hopeful of its success.” As the man spoke, his hand rested on the shoulder of a pretty brunette woman in a pink romper. “For those of you who are first-timers, my name is Master Derek Hawkins and Rawhide is my pride and joy.”
He continued to go through an overview of the event, what to expect, and reminders about consent and communication. He reminded us that the event wasn’t about finding someone immediately, but about making connections and building on that.
I wrapped my fingers around a cool glass and listened, nodding along. Around me, people leaned into one another. Caretakers kept gentle hands on backs or shoulders, and Littles laughed freely.
Standing there, watching it all, I became acutely aware of how carefully I’d learned to keep that part of myself tucked away. How practiced I was at wanting without admitting it. Even to myself.
I’d convinced myself that submission was enough. That structure, rules, and control satisfied whatever softer impulses stirred beneath the surface. That anything beyond that was unnecessary. Indulgent. Not for me.
The idea had always felt safer that way.
Here, surrounded by people who didn’t flinch at being seen, that belief wobbled uncomfortably. I didn’t like the way it made my chest tighten, or how quickly my mind tried to explain it away.
I took another sip of my drink and forced my shoulders to relax.
This wasn’t why I was here. I hadn’t come to unravel myself on day one. I hadn’t come to question things I’d already decided about like who I was and what I wanted.
I stayed where I was, watching from the edges, reminding myself that looking didn’t mean longing.
And even if therewasa bit of longing, it didn’t have to mean anything at all.
Chapter Two
Hope
Morning came way too early.
Sunlight pressed through the curtains, bright and unapologetic, and for a few seconds, I lay there staring at the ceiling, my mind blank and pleasantly foggy with sleep. Then the memories crept back in.
The mixer.
The way I’d hovered at the edges with a drink in my hand like it was a prop. Or a darned lifeline.
I rolled onto my side and tugged my new bear closer as a soft groan escaped.
I hadn’t done anything wrong. I knew that. No one had forced conversation, and Master Derek had been very clear about this thing being done at our own pace. Still, disappointment sat low in my belly as I replayed the evening with brutal clarity.
