Madison’s World Redux: Season Two: Episode Sixty Six

A couple of hours had slipped by in comfortable silence. McKenzie sat at her cluttered desk, feet propped up casually as she delved into a thick textbook, her eyes scanning the pages with focused intent. Sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a warm glow over the room and highlighting the dust motes dancing lazily in the air. On the expansive surface of the desk, Greg reclined near a stack of notebooks, enjoying the rare freedom of being outside the confines of the habitat. The wooden grain beneath him felt solid and reassuring, a small semblance of normalcy in his drastically altered world.

He glanced up at his daughter, her brow furrowed slightly as she absorbed the material for her upcoming class. Despite the surreal circumstances, there was a comforting familiarity in the scene—a father watching his child study, a shared quietude that transcended their changed dynamics. McKenzie still kept a watchful eye on him, her protective instincts evident, but he understood it came from a place of love rather than control.

“Are you doing okay, Dad?” McKenzie asked, her voice gentle as she tore her gaze away from the book. “I know it’s not the most exciting thing, but I need to finish these chapters before Monday.”

Greg smiled softly, appreciating her consideration. “It’s fine, sweetheart. I’m just happy to spend time with you.” He hesitated for a moment, choosing his words carefully. “I was thinking, though—it’s almost noon. Do you think we could visit your mother? You know how Madison gets on weekends, and your mom is an early riser.”

A shadow flickered across McKenzie’s face, her eyes briefly clouding before she composed herself. “Oh, I really need to finish this chapter, Dad,” she replied, her tone measured. “And I was hoping we could go outside in a bit.”

Before he could respond, she reached out and gently wrapped her fingers around him, her touch both tender and decisive. The sudden movement caught him off guard, and he felt a subtle shift in the atmosphere. With a slight flick of her finger, she opened the habitat she had meticulously crafted for him and placed him inside. The door clicked shut with a quiet finality.

“Why don’t you find something to watch?” McKenzie suggested, her eyes not quite meeting his as she settled back into her chair and returned to her book.

Greg stood inside the habitat, the bars casting thin shadows across his face. He gazed up at McKenzie, her profile illuminated by the soft light. The ease with which she had lifted and secured him struck a chord—a reminder of the vast differences now separating them. The side door she had installed was designed only to open from the outside, and the top of the habitat was far beyond his reach. He was, effectively, confined until she decided otherwise.

The peaceful morning they’d shared had ended abruptly. He understood the unspoken message: discussing Cindy was off-limits. A sigh escaped his lips as he sat down on the small couch, the cushions yielding slightly under his weight. The silence between them was heavy, filled with words neither was willing to voice.

McKenzie remained engrossed in her studies, but he sensed the tension lingering in the room. He contemplated saying something, breaking the uneasy quiet, but thought better of it. She’s still hurting, he reminded himself. Pushing won’t help.

Minutes ticked by, the only sounds the rustle of pages and the faint chirping of birds outside the window. Greg’s mind wandered, thoughts circling back to his wife. He missed Cindy—missed their conversations, their shared glances, the simple comfort of her presence. The separation gnawed at him, compounded by the knowledge that he was powerless to bridge the gap.

“McKenzie,” he called out softly, forgetting in that moment about the collar she had reactivated the previous night. As soon as the word left his lips, a sharp constriction gripped his throat. He gasped, hands instinctively reaching for the collar as it tightened, cutting off his voice.

McKenzie’s head snapped up at the sound—or rather, the sudden lack of it. Before she could react, a knock echoed from the door, drawing her attention away. “Come in,” she called, her eyes flickering briefly toward her father before shifting to the doorway.

Madison breezed into the room with the casual confidence Greg had come to associate with her. Her hair was slightly tousled, and she wore a relaxed outfit that suggested she’d just rolled out of bed. “Hi, Dad,” she cooed, her gaze landing on him inside the habitat. “Isn’t the setup McKenzie made for you just adorable? Look at you in there.”

Her tone was saccharine, laced with a condescension that made Greg’s skin prickle. “Don’t worry,” Madison continued, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief. “You’ll be back with me tomorrow morning to resume your training. Mom was asking about you—she was so worried. It was kinda adorable.” She smirked. “She wasn’t very good, though, so it’s doubtful she’ll get to see you today. That’s a luxury only I can provide.”

Greg felt a knot tighten in his stomach. The way Madison spoke about Cindy—as if she were an unruly pet—stirred a mix of frustration and sadness within him. He opened his mouth to speak but thought better of it, the memory of the collar’s bite still fresh.

Madison turned her attention to McKenzie. “Kenz, I’m heading out with Brooklyn and Emma today. We’re gonna do a bit of retail therapy.”

McKenzie closed her book, her expression shifting into one of mild authority. “Yeah, just be smart and remember the house rules and curfews. Just because Mom and Dad are Littles now doesn’t mean the rules have changed.”

“Of course,” Madison replied breezily. “I’ve got you, Kenz. Besides, I know I have to set a good example for my Littles.” She cast a glance back at Greg, her smile unwavering.

McKenzie stood up. “Let me warm up your breakfast,” she offered.

“I can do it myself, Kenz. I’m not a baby,” Madison retorted, a hint of defensiveness creeping into her voice.

“I know you’re not,” McKenzie said gently. “But I’m your sister and your parent now. Let me do this for you. You’re my responsibility—it’s what Mom would do, and I’m picking up where she left off.”

Madison hesitated for a moment before her expression softened. “Thanks, Kenz. You’re better than Mom. We’ve got this.” She paused, a flicker of sincerity breaking through her usual façade. “I’ve been helping out too. I did your laundry yesterday while hanging out with the girls.”

“Thanks, Mads,” McKenzie replied, a genuine smile touching her lips. “I appreciate it.” She glanced back at Greg. “I’ll be right back, Dad. Just relax here for a bit. We’ll hang out outside after.”

As McKenzie left the room, Madison lingered, her eyes locking onto Greg’s. The atmosphere shifted, the air thick with unspoken tension.

“Don’t forget you’re my Little , Dad,” Madison said smoothly, her voice dropping to a lower, more serious tone. “You’re just on loan to Kenzie for the weekend. Remember your training. If you come back all undisciplined, I’ll have to talk to her about putting a stop to these weekend visits. They’re a luxury I allow.”

Greg met her gaze, suppressing the urge to challenge her. “Yes, Ms. Wessen. Thank you, Ms. Wessen,” he replied quietly, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. He recognized the power play—Madison asserting her dominance, reminding him of his place.

She leaned in slightly, her eyes narrowing. “So be good, and remember—if you have any problems, you come to me.” Her stare lingered, a silent warning underlying her words. Then, as abruptly as the shift had occurred, her demeanor lightened. “Love you, Dad. Bye!” she chirped, her tone reverting to that of a carefree teenager as she turned and sauntered out of the room.

The door closed softly behind her, leaving Greg alone once more. He released a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. The encounter left him feeling unsettled—a swirl of emotions he struggled to untangle. The affection Madison displayed was layered with condescension and control, a stark contrast to the genuine warmth he felt from McKenzie.

He glanced around the habitat, the confined space suddenly feeling even smaller. The bars seemed to loom, casting long shadows that crisscrossed over him like a net. The realization hit him anew: his autonomy was gone, his life now dictated by the whims of his daughters.

Minutes passed in silence. He could hear faint sounds from the kitchen—dishes clinking, muffled voices—as McKenzie and Madison interacted downstairs. He wondered how Cindy was faring, confined under Madison’s strict regime. The thought of her isolated and possibly distressed weighed heavily on him.

I have to find a way to reach her, he thought, a surge of determination rising within him. We need to face this together.

But as he examined the secure latch of the habitat and the unreachable openings, a sense of helplessness settled in. Any attempt to defy the rules could result in harsher restrictions—not just for him, but potentially for Cindy as well.

The door opened again, and McKenzie re-entered, a plate of food in her hands. “Sorry about that, Dad,” she said, her eyes softening as she approached. “Madison can be… a lot sometimes.”

He offered a small smile. “It’s okay, Pumpkin.”

She set the plate down and unlocked the habitat with a swift motion, reaching in to gently lift him out. “Ready to go outside?” she asked, her tone lightening.

“Definitely,” he replied, grateful for the change of scenery.

As she carried him toward the garden, the warmth of her hand enveloping him securely, Greg allowed himself a moment of respite. The sun filtered through the windows, casting a golden hue over everything it touched. For now, he would focus on these small moments—the kindness in McKenzie’s actions, the promise of fresh air and open spaces.

But beneath it all, the undercurrents of tension remained—a complex web of power dynamics, unspoken grievances, and the ever-present reality of their new lives. As they stepped outside, the cool breeze brushing against his face, Greg resolved to find a way to navigate these challenges. For himself, for Cindy, and perhaps most of all, for the daughters who now held their world in their hands.

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