Page 2 of Regal Feather
Jaime nodded. “Everything you’ve tried so far is very revealing.”
“I mean…yes?”
I didn’t know what to think when they said it like that. Was it a critique? Did they think differently because I’d agreed it had to do with kink? I had read plenty about the problematic history of feminization kink. I’d spoken about it with Erika too because, even though she was cis—and had reminded me of the fact—she was the most knowledgeable when it came to kink, and I wanted some reassurance. Her advice was that I talk with at least some of the trans members of the club, and I’d been building up the courage to do it. Just…
Sergio thought of me as shy. It wasn’t a secret.
He wasn’t the only one, either, and there were reasons for it. I hated the way the adjective felt against my skin, but I couldn’t quite fight it, could I? Not when the evidence was right there. I got anxious whenever the attention was on me, my voice got all soft and small when I was asked something I hadn’t expected, and I wasn’t the best at bringing up new topics of conversation.
“You trust me?”
“Huh?”Jaime kept staring at me like they weren’t making me go on a downward spiral. I was genuinely terrified of what would go down if I said no. “Yes?”
I did trust them. It was the whole reason for today. I just felt untethered.
“Does the woman outside know your sizes?”
“I think so.”
My understanding was that she was the one who had dropped all the clothes in here, so she must’ve checked the online order I’d placed.
“Good.” Jaime clapped their hands together before grabbing Danny by the arm. “You, with me.”
I didn’t know if it was a consolation, but Danny looked just as confused as I felt. On him, with all the piercings across his lips and eyebrows, the expression looked more cartoonish.
Was that a word he’d be okay with? Probably not.
“You can keep changing into more clothes if you want,” Sergio suggested. I glanced back at him. “I mean, when I’m confused about what people are doing, it helps me to be on the move. Maybe it helps. Like, Daddy says I shouldn’t assume what works for me works for other people, and he says you’re more prone to just go with whatever I say, which I don’t fully understand, and please don’t do it, but… Yeah. I thought I’d mention it.”
Sergio had this thing where once he got going—which, to be honest, accounted for most of the time—he didn’t quite know where to stop, so nine out of the ten times he opened his mouth, it ended up becoming a random ramble about anything and everything. I liked him, though. I didn’t like it when he peppered me with a thousand questions at once, but I liked that he didn’t mind carrying the weight of the conversation.
“Okay, yeah. They don’t hate me or anything, right?”
Sergio snorted. “If Jaime hates you, they make sure you know it.”
It made sense, and I could’ve reasoned as much from what I knew of them, but it didn’t calm me down or slow down my heartbeat. Then again, my heart was probably still processing the way the fabric felt against my skin. The way I looked in the mirror, somehow softer, warmer, smaller. Nothing about women’s clothes implied weakness or a loss, but the contrastwas clear with the usual clothes I used to wear. The ones that had felt constricting. That hadn’t made me feel able to square up my shoulders like all the private tutors said I had to, to instill confidence.
Those clothes didn’t inspire me. They didn’t bring up any feeling other than…void. Void was not a good feeling to contend with. I’d much rather have this nervousness, this tingling across my body, everywhere the fabric touched, and everywhere that was left exposed to the large mirror in front of me.
Those clothes didn’t have me shivering when I closed my eyes and imagined what would happen later tonight. What the reaction would be when I relaxed on my bed and I texted the online Dom I was playing with. The one who used all the right words and had encouraged me to take this step. To be the slutty femboy I’d been born to be.
I all but forgot about Sergio’s suggestion of trying out more clothes as I kept staring at my reflection. Truth be told, I didn’t know how he was managing to stay so still. And quiet. Sergio was never quiet.
I appreciated it, though it made the contrast starker when Jaime stomped all the way back to us, Danny trailing behind them. I focused on the former and the pile of clothes they were carrying. The ones they shoved my way.
“I don’t care if this is your egg cracking or not, trust me. You’re going to want shit that’ll cover you up, too.”
“Oh.” It was the only sound that came out.
Jaime didn’t sound angry or like they hated me. A smile pulled at my lips as I replayed Sergio’s words. If I had any doubts, the answer was that they didn’t hate me. They might be a bit uncomfortable, though, and that didn’t sit right.
I just wasn’t sure what to do, other than heed their advice, I supposed.
The clothes they’d picked were oversized, thin sweaters and sweatshirts. They were undoubtedly feminine, with pastel colors, detailed hems, and off the shoulder sleeves and even cleavages, but they had nothing to do with all the daring choices I’d added to the online cart the other day, when I’d been strangely fueled by too much bravado, and the endorphins from the best edging scene I’d had, ever.
“Thank you.”
I cleared my throat before my eyes got too misty, and I closed the curtain behind me once more. I wasn’t ashamed of crying per se, but it was something else that I struggled with, that I saw as associated with the parts of me that had never made it to the light until now.
