Page 42 of Regal Feather
The club had a medium to high protocol, and that meant we referred to people with honorifics and any names people chose. But if I wasn’t a member, did that still apply?
More fidgeting ensued.
“Can we sit down for a minute, Ev?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” I appreciated that she gave me the option to keep my room private if I wanted, but I didn’t see the point in hiding an unmade bed from them when I had to be looking way worse than the piece of furniture, so I just stepped to the side and beckoned them in. “Uh, sorry, I didn’t see your texts. I have been doomscrolling and have all other notifications off.”
“So you didn’t block me?”
“No.” I felt guilty, though. I suspected there would be a bit of an uproar after I shared in the group chat that I was ending my membership. For some reason, I didn’t think it would involve a house visit. House visits were something we did for other people. Not for me. “I’d never.”
“Okay, good.” With that reassurance, Sergio hopped to the bed and yanked me there with him. Erika just leaned against the doorframe after checking that there weren’t many places to sit around. There was a chair by a desk that was a bit dusty because I never used it, but it was quite far from the bed. “So what was that thing about leaving Plumas?”
I grimaced. Erika was not reacting. She was good at keeping a poker face, though. She had texted me about an hour after I’d submitted the form to end the membership to confirm I wouldn’t be charged for the next month. She’d added that she was there to talk if I needed to, but I hadn’t taken her up on the offer.
She had to be so disappointed in me. Every time someone threatened to out me, she’d had to clean up the mess, and she’d had so many talks with me about coming clean to the inner circle and about staying safe, and a million other things. She had bothered with me more than anyone else would have on her shoes, and I was repaying all her efforts by quitting.
“It’s just what makes sense,” I mumbled. It was basically the same thing I’d said over text. “You know how people tell you that just because you love kids, or dogs, or whatever, it doesn’t mean you should have them? I think that’s me with kink.”
Sergio just blinked at me in utter confusion. “Well, that’s deep.”
I snorted.
I didn’t know when it had started, but I felt comfortable around him. Feeling comfortable meant I tended to use longer sentences and say more of the things I usually kept inside because no one would care to listen anyway.
“So what is it that means you can’t have kink?” Erika pushed off the doorframe then.
“Uh?”
I wasn’t uncomfortable around her, but she intimidated me. I could feel the knot clogging up my throat, my heart racing while I waited for her to berate me, to call me out in ways that I absolutely deserved.
“Usually, that’s said about kids or dogs if people don’t have the emotional maturity, or the time, or the means, to take care of them,” she explained. “So what’s your reason to believe that equivalence?”
I squirmed. “I don’t…I don’t think I can play safely.”
Obviously, it didn’t take long to realize that wasn’t going to be enough to satisfy either of them.
I wish I still had the cocoon that Santos had made with the blankets, but it was destroyed the other night while tossing and turning. I couldn’t get it the same.
It sucked. Cocoons were comforting.
“It’s a lot of different things,” I whispered. “There’s…the thing you always said about who I am, and my identity. Yeah, I have gotten better, but it doesn’t work, does it? If I follow all the steps to keep safe, then I’m stuck with a Dom who doesn’t know my name, can’t see my face, and can’t set up proper aftercare because that would mean exposing myself to risk. And while that is happening, I’m so caught up on it that I don’t see what’s in front of me, and I don’t reason, and I neglect others, and I refuse to do that.”
I couldn’t push another word out if I tried. I hoped that rubbing my chest while I worked on slowing my breathing was enough of a signal for them.
If Santos was here, he would’ve already hoisted me up. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten me out of the room, but the touch would’ve been grounding. Sergio was touching me, his hand on my thigh, but it wasn’t quite the same. It warmed me up, but it didn’t have the same effect.
It was unfair to my friend, though. I didn’t have the same connection with anyone that I had with Santos. Maybe it had to do with all the formative years we’d known each other, or maybe I was the problem, and I hadn’t let them in the way I did him.
“What does that mean?” Sergio broke the silence, of course. “Except today, every time I ask you to come with me somewhere, you do. And you invite us to stuff, too, like when we went shopping, and you come to all the munches, too.”
“Danny didn’t want to go along with the caning stuff,” I argued. “He basically said that I shouldn’t have a Dom for the wrong reasons, and I think he had a point. And there’s Santos, too. He’s here, and yeah, it’s cool, but I was so focused on SirIsmael, I didn’t even think to ask him what had happened that got him discharged, and that’s fucked up.”
“Okay…” Sergio blinked some more. “That might be a bit fucked up, but like D-types always talk about middle grounds and stuff, like… Ma’am, back me up!”
Erika snorted. “I’m not gonna do such a thing.”
“Why???”
