The Case of the American Daddy

By T.J. Brimstone

Tobias has created the perfect bubble for himself: between his work as a late-night cleaner and reading books at home, he lives a blissful life of social seclusion. It’s just him and Sherlock Holmes’s portrait ... and his flatmate, who introduces Tobias to the world of age play. Embracing his little side happily, all Tobias has to do now is find a caring Daddy Dom.

Online Tobias meets an intriguing stranger. Could this be his future Daddy? Would Sherlock Holmes approve? And is self-employed Gareth, who travels all around the world, willing to make another commitment after his last relationship ended?

A romantic dinner by menorah light holds all the answers. Happy Hanukkah!

• Language: English
• Publisher: JMS Books LLC
• Release date: Dec 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781685500023

Book preview

Chapter 1: Tobias

Sherlock stared at me like it was my fault I was late for work again.

It’s not me! I said, It’s London! It’s the commuters and the tube and the traffic!

The portrait of the great detective seemed to shake his head as if I were plainly making up excuses; as if I could just, I don’t know, take the early train or whatever. Well. I guess he was sort of right.

I mumbled a contrite apology, took my tools out, and got to work. Well…I say ‘tools’…my cleaning utensils really. Yup. Name: Tobias Eisenstein. Age: Thirty years old. Achievements in life: cleaning help with a terrible track record of showing up on time. Goal: a full-time job at my current workplace not cleaning. Dreams: too many, most of them inspired by fairy tales.

I had a trolley with mops and buckets and stuff in a locked cupboard behind the staff room, but I only did the big clean-up on Thursdays and Mondays. The normal routine was a bit of dusting, hoovering, checking for smears and smudges, and a quick sweeping of the gift shop floor of 221B Baker Street. As my feather duster flicked over Sherlock Holmes’s armchair and Doctor Watson’s writing desk, I let my imagination soar. One day I’d find the courage to ask for a job upgrade. I loved working at the museum. I wanted to be one of the people who made the experience magical for visitors—chat with people from around the world, hear them talk about why they loved Doyle and his characters, meet people…ah, and therein lay the crux of the problem! If only I could meet people. I was shy to a fault. It was easy enough to chat with Sherlock’s portrait, but in reality what made this job ideal for me was the fact that I worked alone in an empty building. It made me feel safe that I didn’t have to make small talk with other people. It also made me feel lonely, because between my job and being at home, the only person I interacted with socially was my flatmate, Kali. She usually told me to get out more.

Lucky for her I don’t get out more, I told nobody in particular, cause it’s me who does the cleaning at home, too. Tobias Eisenstein, on a first-name basis with all major and minor cleaning agents. Take it away, Windolene!

One of those days, one of my imaginary listeners would talk back to me. That’s when I’d know I’d have gone bonkers.

* * * *

Kali was in front of the telly, watching another zombie show. I pulled a face showing my utmost disgust and retreated into the kitchen with my dinner. I put my ramen bowl and chopsticks on the counter, hopped up next to it, and ate with my feet dangling and tapping lightly against the kitchen drawers. Ramen itself tastes of nothing in particular, granted, but I love how fun the noodles are to slurp. I think I hummed happily as I slurped.

When all the zombies were slain, Kali ambled in. She yawned, stretched, and looked enviously at my choc biscuits.

Are those the naughty ones with the triple choc and the peanut butter? she asked.

I offered her one, unable to reply because I had just crammed an entire biscuit into my mouth. Well naughty!

She inspected the remains of my dinner like a certain private detective, then concluded, Ramen and biscuits. Again?

I shrugged my shoulders to imply that it wasn’t really that bad, and anyway, I worked hard, came home late, and had no patience to cook a three-course meal at