Page 126 of Pucking Them
She told me that I wasn’t a good enough sub to want to be seen with in public, introduce to other doms, or take to clubs.
D’Angelo is the opposite. He has shown me off at fetish events and welcomed me into his friendship group.
He has opened a whole new world to me.
No matter what happens in our future, I will be forever bloody grateful to him for that.
He has unlocked something in me. I feel like I am starting to understand who I am.
No longer Shay the people pleaser. The performer.
Instead, I am Shay who deserves to behimself.
I glance at the group of subs around me who are chatting and joking, relaxed in the after-hours bookstore café.
I’m a bloody idiot because I thought that it was my twin who didn’t have friends. I have always been surrounded by a crowd offriends.
Except, they didn’t know me.
My past.
Pain.
They wouldn’t have cared. The other players on the team mocked me when I was forced to serve them in shops or at private events. None of myfriendsnoticed when I was starving, couldn’t afford new clothes, or go to parties with them. They didn’t stand up against the teachers, professionals, or coach for me.
It was my brother who saved me from Blythe.
I put on an act in front of them, as much as I taught Eden to with the scripts that I wrote out for him.
Yet here amongst this raucous group of people who couldn’t be more different — but who are being more genuine than I have been in my life — I feel more seen and accepted than I have been before.
I sprawl in my seat.
I no longer fear that I will be rejected for being myself.
It’s fucking freeing.
Everett clears his throat. “What the dom doesn’t know, doesn’t hurt them…? Unfortunately, it will hurtme. You promised to be good, Cas. Mistress has put me in charge of you this evening. She normally wouldn’t give me permission to go out like this. Surely, you wouldn’t want me to be disciplined and lose this chance to meet up with our friends?”
I flinch.
I can’t help the wave of hate that flashes through me toward Kay.
The remembered slash of the belt across my shoulders and ass from Blythe makes me shudder.
Bad boy.
Red, red, red.
It doesn’t matter how many times Everett assures me that he has consensually given Kay this much control over his life — thathe needs it for his anxiety — I still struggle, when I hear him talk about it.
Everett is athletically built with beautiful, large honey eyes and long, straight white hair that falls to his waist. I am always jealous of his leather trousers, boots, and sweeping leather coat.
I am more jealous of the thick, leather collar around his neck but am trying to hide it from Robyn.
I am desperate to reach up and touch my bare neck, circling it with my hand.
I force my fingers to remain clutched around my warm cup.
