Madison’s World Redux: Season Two: Episode Fifty Two

“Now that we’ve got the serious stuff out of the way,” McKenzie said, her voice shifting, lighter now as she attempted to move away from the heavy emotions. She had said what needed to be said, and to her surprise, it had gone better than expected. The relief was palpable. If her dad had chosen to stay with Cindy, to be with Madison and her, she would have understood. She was prepared to let him go, to hand him over if that’s what he wanted. But the fact that he had chosen her—that he had picked her over everything else—meant the world to McKenzie. It was more than she could have hoped for.

“While I was at work,” she continued, her voice growing more animated, “you know how slow it can get sometimes. I started working on something for you.” She turned to the side and grabbed a small cage—an old hamster habitat she used to keep on her desk. “I converted it into a proper Little habitat. Look,” she said, a hint of pride creeping into her tone as she displayed her work. “I installed heating coils in the floor and put in carpeting. There’s a little bed, some tiny furniture… even a little bathroom and bedroom. I took one of my old phones and installed LittleOS on it, so it could serve as your entertainment center. There’s a living room space too. I know it’s not perfect, but I wanted you to have your own place, especially when you’re here with me—and in the future.”

Greg’s eyes widened in surprise as he looked at the small but meticulously designed space she had built for him. It wasn’t as large as the habitat Madison had bought for him, but in many ways, it was far more thoughtful. There was a warmth to it, a personal touch that made it feel more like a home and less like a cage. “Wow, you really put a lot of work into this, Kenz,” Greg said, admiration clear in his voice as he ran his hand over the tiny furniture. It was clear how much care she had poured into creating this space for him.

McKenzie beamed, feeling a sense of pride swell in her chest. “I got the materials cheap,” she explained, trying to downplay the effort a little. “You remember Sean, don’t you? I brought him by the house a couple of times.”

Greg’s ears perked up at the mention of the name. “Yeah, I remember Sean. What about him?” His tone shifted, a familiar hint of curiosity lacing his words. McKenzie immediately picked up on it, sensing her dad’s “dad radar” kicking in.

“Daaad, come on, it’s nothing like that,” McKenzie replied, rolling her eyes, but there was a small smile on her lips. “I can see you trying to read too much into it. We’re just friends. I swear.” She fidgeted slightly, feeling a bit awkward about the direction of the conversation. “Anyway,” she continued, brushing off the topic of Sean, “I just… needed to talk to someone who wasn’t involved, you know? Sean’s mom works at a machine shop where they make a lot of the Little furniture for Generitech. So, she was able to help me out for the cost of materials, after hours.”

Greg listened, though he couldn’t help but raise an eyebrow, still skeptical. He knew McKenzie had her share of relationships, but she kept her romantic life relatively private, never sharing much detail. He couldn’t help but wonder if this was a glimpse into something more. But he decided not to press the issue—at least, not right now.

“I get it,” Greg said, his tone neutral but laced with a hint of curiosity. He glanced back at the habitat, admiring the craftsmanship. It really was a fine home, far cozier than what Madison had provided. But as he examined it more closely, a realization began to settle in. McKenzie hadn’t gone through all this trouble just for the sake of a little side project. The effort she’d put in made it clear—she envisioned him spending more time here with her, possibly even staying more nights at her place than with Cindy. It wasn’t explicitly stated, but the message was there.

Greg swallowed, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. He loved spending time with McKenzie, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that this was another step toward the inevitable separation from Cindy. Even though it wasn’t said outright, he could see the writing on the wall. McKenzie wanted him close—wanted him with her. This habitat wasn’t just a gesture of care; it was part of the future McKenzie was planning.

Still, looking at the warmth and thoughtfulness she had poured into this space, Greg couldn’t help but smile. “It’s really something, Kenzie,” he said softly, his voice filled with gratitude. “You’ve thought of everything.”

McKenzie’s face lit up, clearly relieved that her father appreciated what she had done. “I just wanted you to have a place of your own. Somewhere that feels… safe. Comfortable. Somewhere you can always come back to.”

Greg had no idea how he was going to approach this with Cindy. She was already on edge from the last conversation he’d shared with McKenzie, and he could feel the tension between the two women growing. He knew he couldn’t keep this from her, but he also knew she wasn’t going to like it. Maybe he could frame it differently—make it seem like McKenzie had done this for both of them. Cindy had often accused him of being oblivious about these sorts of things, and maybe this time, he could soften the blow. But the truth was, McKenzie’s gesture carried implications that would only deepen the rift between her and Cindy.

“Dad, do you not like it?” McKenzie’s voice cut through his thoughts, her tone tinged with uncertainty. She had been watching him closely, her earlier excitement now giving way to concern. “I mean, you look…”

“Pumpkin, I love this,” Greg quickly interjected, sensing the anxiety building in her. “This is the nicest thing anyone has ever done for me. I’ve never been gifted a home before,” he added with a small chuckle, hoping to ease her worry. “I was just taking it all in. It’s a bit overwhelming, you know? This level of generosity and thoughtfulness.”

McKenzie’s face brightened, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Well, you’re my dad,” she said, her voice softening with emotion. “You’ve always been there for me, done so much for me. I wanted to be able to do something for you too. I wanted you to know that I’m committed to us.” She paused, her eyes shimmering with affection as she added, “It’s like you said. You’re my Little.”

Greg hadn’t realized just how much this all meant to her, how much weight she had placed on his earlier words. The fact that he had chosen her, that he had said he would go with her—it was clear now how deeply that had resonated with McKenzie. And while he meant everything he said, the realization that every gesture she made, every act of care, was creating a wider gap between her and Cindy gnawed at him. The more McKenzie gave him, the more that invisible rift between mother and daughter became painfully visible.

It had always been there, on some level. McKenzie and Cindy had never fully seen eye to eye. Cindy, as the parent, had always held the power in their relationship. There had been love and respect, but also an unspoken submission from McKenzie, the deference of a daughter to her mother. That dynamic had once been clear, solid, a line that neither of them crossed.

But now, with Greg and Cindy both reduced to Littles, the line had blurred. The submission McKenzie had once offered without question was eroding—vanishing, even. Greg could see it, even if Cindy hadn’t fully acknowledged it yet.

McKenzie now held the advantage in the power dynamic. She wasn’t just the daughter anymore—she was the caregiver, the one with control. And she wasn’t going to make the same allowances for Cindy that she had in the past. To McKenzie, Cindy wasn’t just her mother anymore. She was a Little, and McKenzie saw Littles differently. While they both believed in the hierarchy, mother and daughter had never agreed on where the line between “person” and “Little” truly lay.

For Cindy, that line had always been drawn firmly between herself and those under her care. She had advocated for strict control, for rules that kept Littles firmly in their place. But now that she had crossed over into that world herself, McKenzie didn’t seem willing to offer her the same grace Cindy had once demanded from others. Cindy was no longer the authority figure, no longer in control. And McKenzie… McKenzie wasn’t about to grant her mother the leniency she had never believed in herself.

Greg sat in silence for a moment, looking at the small, cozy home McKenzie had built for him, feeling both grateful and conflicted. He loved his daughter, and he was touched by her thoughtfulness. But with every new step she took, he could see the widening distance between her and Cindy. The old power dynamic was crumbling, and McKenzie was stepping into a role neither of them had ever imagined.

And Greg couldn’t help but wonder how much longer it would be before that divide became something they couldn’t bridge at all.

“Go on, Dad, explore it a bit,” McKenzie said with a burst of excitement as she took a sip from her bottle of water. Her eyes gleamed with pride, clearly eager for Greg to enjoy the home she’d crafted for him.

Greg hesitated for a moment before stepping into the small habitat McKenzie had built. With each step, he felt the warmth rising from the floor, the heating coils working just as she had promised. The bed, though smaller than he was used to, had a softness to it that he couldn’t help but appreciate. The cozy, enclosed space gave him a sense of comfort. It was quaint and felt far more private than the habitat Madison had provided. Madison’s setup was much more open, with its clear walls leaving him and Cindy visible at all times—a reminder that they were always being watched, even if they had nothing to hide. But this… this felt more like a home.

As Greg moved around, taking in the thoughtful details McKenzie had added, her voice broke through the quiet. “I’m just gonna call Sean while you explore, Dad. Let him know how much you like it,” she said, grabbing her phone and standing up from the desk. Greg watched her stride over to her bed, stretching out in a casual sprawl as she began to talk to Sean. Her voice filled the room, loud and booming from his perspective, the sound of her conversation echoing in the small space.

Greg couldn’t help but glance at her through the bars of the cage. It wasn’t that he felt trapped—McKenzie had designed the habitat with care and love—but the bars gave it a different feel. There was something about them that was hard to ignore, a subtle reminder that no matter how nice it was, this was still a cage of sorts. He was still a Little. The realization settled uncomfortably in his chest, even as he continued to explore the small, cozy space.

“Yeah, really—he loves it,” McKenzie said into the phone, her voice filled with pride. “Now I can keep him with me a bit more. I was thinking… I could just drop him off at Madison’s eventually. You know, while I’m at work, tennis, school, or just out and about. He could be with Mom in Madison’s room, then when I get home, he could stay here with me. But I haven’t talked to him about it yet.”

Greg’s heart sank a little as he listened to McKenzie’s words. She was talking about him, about his life and routine, as if he wasn’t there. It wasn’t meant to be harsh—he knew that—but it was still jarring to hear. He was learning that being a Little meant getting used to this kind of talk, being discussed as part of someone else’s plan rather than an active participant in his own choices. McKenzie had mentioned this before, and Greg knew he’d have to come to terms with it. Still, hearing it now, with such casual certainty, stung more than he had anticipated.

But what surprised Greg the most was McKenzie’s clear intent. She wasn’t just planning for the distant future—she was already thinking about how to split his time between her and Madison. The way she spoke, it wasn’t something that felt years away, as he had hoped. Instead, it sounded like something that could happen in weeks, maybe months. McKenzie was laying out her plans with more assertiveness than Greg had expected.

The idea of being dropped off in Madison’s room like it was some sort of daycare unsettled him. He loved both of his daughters, but the thought of being shuffled between them, with McKenzie deciding how much time he would spend with Cindy, made him uneasy. It wasn’t just the practicalities—it was the growing realization that McKenzie was pushing for a more definitive separation between him and Cindy than he had been prepared for.

Greg wandered through the small habitat, running his hand along the tiny furniture McKenzie had placed inside, his mind racing with conflicting thoughts. He appreciated what McKenzie had done—how much effort she had put into making sure he felt cared for, loved. But this new plan of hers, this idea of being split between her and Madison, felt like the beginning of something he hadn’t fully prepared himself for. The gap between him and Cindy, the distance McKenzie was creating, wasn’t just emotional anymore. It was becoming real. And the more McKenzie pushed for control, the more Greg realized how little of it he had left.

As McKenzie continued talking with Sean, her voice filled with laughter and excitement, Greg found himself standing in the middle of the tiny living room she had built for him, feeling smaller than ever before. He wasn’t just a Little now—he was part of someone else’s plan, a life being organized around him. And while he loved McKenzie, the reality of his new role was sinking in more deeply than ever.

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