8. Tony
EIGHT
tony
I ’d never been happier about the fact that I lived alone.
OldSchoolDS
How are classes going, pup?
PupJ
You’ve known I was studying journalism for years and never once cared to ask
OldSchoolDS
I’m asking now.
I glared at the screen as I waited for those stupid three dots to be replaced with an answer.
Of course asking about Jaime’s classes through Plumas’s app hadn’t been the best way to go about it, but I’d heard nothing from him in three days. Regardless of everything I was still making sense of in my head, I felt responsible over him. I’d pushed him on Monday. He’d consented to the pushing and had been more than okay when I sent him—and a dozen Tupperware containers full of Indian food—on his way home. Checking in was still a must.
I’d been distracted all day. Correction: I’d been distracted ever since he left my place and I had to deal with the fact that I’d fooled around with the pup. Today had just become more difficult to ignore, the distraction turning into an itch that was bringing up too many emotions I wanted nothing to do with.
PupJ
I never got to ask you my questions
Right.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. I should’ve known better than to expect a proper answer.
OldSchoolDS
You never earned them.
PupJ
Then let’s change that?
What do you want?
OldSchoolDS
Brazen, are we?
Once more, an answer didn’t come right away. I left my phone on the kitchen counter. I’d propped myself up on one of the stools while I waited for my food to reheat in the air fryer I’d bought back when it was all everyone talked about.
This was usually the time when I browsed through digital newspapers or marked a few papers if I’d brought them home with me. I avoided logging in to the university email because their authentication process was a pain in the ass, but it wouldn’t be the first time I’d been forced to do it. Regardless, it was an efficient use of my time.
Waiting for a bratty pup to answer a text was not an efficient use of time. I couldn’t bring myself to drop it, though. I could check what my colleagues, for lack of a better word, were saying about the latest developments in Congress, but instead, I was on Plumas’s app. I was in my late thirties, scrolling through comments of people I barely interacted with, because the person who let me fuck their face three days ago wasn’t replying fast enough.
It was ridiculous.
PupJ
I’m in a good mood. But hey, I can just badger you with my questions and harass you until you answer
OldSchoolDS
And you think that would work?
Correction. The ridiculous thing was the speed at which my heart started beating when Jaime finally answered.
PupJ
I’m willing to risk it
OldSchoolDS
So, if I tell you to meet me at Plumas tonight, you’ll do it?
PupJ
What are we doing there?
It was a good fucking question I didn’t have an answer for. I just wanted to see him. I needed to make sure he was all right. And I owed it to myself to see if I could take things further with him. Even if Jaime wasn’t open to anything other than play because of his hangups with Domms—or his friendship with Sergio—it felt important. A milestone of sorts.
Yeah, the word made me cringe. I was too fucking old—and tired—for milestones. If the shoe fit, though…
Erika might be less on my case, too, if she saw me actively trying to live my life, as she’d put it. There were days she went too far into that muddy territory, telling me how to do shit, that made me want to lash out because she was not my Domme. I kept quiet, but I didn’t pay as much attention as any other person probably would.
I was getting better? It was debatable.
It was also not about Erika at all, if I took the time to dig deep. There was a chance that part of me was still resentful, still grappling with the fact that I didn’t ask for any of this. I didn’t ask to have to confront all the shit I kept buried or on the down-low—however people referred to it these days.
OldSchoolDS
Nothing you can’t handle.
It was a noncommittal answer. An easy way out, almost. My thumbs hovered over the keyboard. I should add something else.
The phone buzzed with Jaime’s answer before I could figure out what I would even type. What did I want, exactly, other than being face-to-face with him? There was too much I didn’t know about him yet—too much he wasn’t saying and too much I didn’t dare to ask.
After seeing how badly I’d read him the other day, I wasn’t taking the risk of just going with my observations of the pup.
PupJ
That tells me nothing
Do I wear gear? Should I send you a list with limits and shit?
OldSchoolDS
You can send that list, and yes, wear gear.
I dropped the phone then. Working on that list—and how much of it he wanted to share—was going to take him a while. At least, it should take him a while. I didn’t want to know if it didn’t, if I could suspect he wasn’t thinking about it hard enough. It wouldn’t be the first time I was accused of being selfish. It would be the first time I endangered a partner while doing so, which made bile rise to my throat.
I didn’t want to cancel on him, though, to have to give my reasoning while knowing he was thinking me a chickenshit.
Was it immature, to give a fuck about what a random person thought or didn’t think of me? Yes. It absolutely was.
It was a matter of principle. Of keeping the few shreds of a reputation that hadn’t been completely destroyed after Marga and Jen ended our arrangement and the gossip mill began. I didn’t know what had hurt more, that or the newspaper article. Or Sergio.
I had to talk to Sergio.
Maybe after I’d knocked out this part, that would be my next obstacle to conquer.
No, it wasn’t attainable, but no one could say I wasn’t pushing out of my comfort zone. I’d paid attention when Erika said something about that a couple of months ago. Being her newest pet project didn’t feel great, but it came with some highlights.
PupJ
I have more conditions
Before I send you the list and actually agree to shit
OldSchoolDS
Language, pup.
What are these conditions?
PupJ
I ask my questions first
OldSchoolDS
All right.
When my phone had buzzed again—all the constant texting from people checking in day in and out took more getting used to than I would’ve thought—I hadn’t expected that text. I certainly hadn’t expected his condition being something I’d already taken for granted.
The air fryer pinged as my food was done, so I didn’t elaborate or wait to see what he had to ask. I ignored how I almost lost my grip on the basket because my hands were clamming up from nerves. Jaime was rather unpredictable. I imagined it would be worse via text. He had even less barriers to just ask whatever went through his head.
PupJ
What are your thoughts on nonbinary folks? asking for me
What was the deal with the contract with Marga and Jen exactly, and why does it sound like you were trying to reenact 50SoG? asking that last part in the most offensive way possible
How do you hypothetically feel about bottoming?
Have you ever been with a trans person before?
This is more personal but whatever, why did you never come out to any of us? you hung out with us, so surely you weren’t disgusted by queerness
How do you feel about boba tea, and potentially supplying it (to me)?
If you were to host a workshop on something, what would it be? (if you say old school DS, I’m going to be severely disappointed by the lack of thought put into it)
What’s something that turns you on that most people wouldn’t guess?
What’s a kink you completely suck at?
If you were to be with a bunch of (human) pups, what treats would you give for good behavior?
I blinked, several times. It seemed like he’d stopped typing, but I gave it a few minutes. I took the time to reread the wall of text a couple of times, too. I hadn’t expected ten questions in a row, or this lack of order.
The latter bothered me more than the audacity of some of those questions.
OldSchoolDS
Your fancy private university doesn’t teach you how to structure an interview?
PupJ
I choose chaos
OldSchoolDS
Please don’t do that when looking for a job. Or for a class project.
I grimaced as I looked back to the questions.
There was no way I was going to type it all on my phone. That was my excuse for why I focused on eating my reheated tempura instead of texting back.
The club app’s version for laptops didn’t work as smoothly, but at least I’d have a keyboard. Cece should add the option to send voice messages through the app.
I could send Jaime my phone number, but something stopped me every time I thought about it. Better get through the array of questions first.
After all the utensils were in the dishwasher, I had no more excuses. I moved back to the living room, booted up my laptop, cracked my knuckles, and got to work.
OldSchoolDS
1. nonbinary lives matter? I don’t know what you want me to say. I don’t have a problem with nonbinary identities, pronouns, or anything else. As for you specifically, I admit I have questions in regards to how I should refer to you, but they don’t come from a place of invalidating your identity or gender expression. I don’t think so, at least.
2. I was *not* trying to reenact 50SoG or any other franchise. They came up with the idea of the contract. Obviously, it didn’t have any kind of binding power, but it helped keep them in line, and it gave us a clear set of boundaries. Not that it held much weight when shit went down.
3. I’ve never bottomed.
4. Not that I know of.
5. I wasn’t disgusted by queerness (and I’m not now, either), no. I don’t have a good reason. I was brought up in a family where appearances matter more than anything else. Queer was not an acceptable appearance. The original plan had been to be in the closet until I didn’t need their money anymore, but I guess I internalized more of their belief system than I’d first thought. By the time I could’ve “safely” come out, it felt too intimidating. Going about life as I always did, without unpacking any of that shit, was comfortable and safe.
6. I’ve never heard of it, but tea is good? Is it illegal? Why do you need a supplier?
7. Brat taming. Are you volunteering?
8. Cam boys. Fem boys, to be exact.
9. Suspension bondage. Regular bondage is already challenging as it is.
10. Cookies, I guess? Being surrounded by a bunch of pups doesn’t sound as appealing as you think.
I blew out a long breath, my head hitting the back of the couch. I’d started typing without putting a lot of thought into what I was pouring onto the screen, so it was now I realized how taxing it had been. I glanced down as my fingers tingled with faint shivers. Clenching them into fists helped. I unlocked my jaw as I did it.
No more than a couple of minutes could’ve passed when my laptop pinged with a notification. This wasn’t my work laptop, so I always forgot to mute it.
I winced.
Then I gave it five more minutes—where more pinging ensued—until I leaned forward again to check what it was that Jaime had said.
PupJ
1. I can’t tell you to ask someone else, can I?
2. Um, hello? I need more about the “shit went down” part. What are we, amateurs?
3. The question was how you felt about it. Cute, though
5. That was more than I expected, so thanks. I solemnly swear all follow-up questions will be made in a more sensitive manner.
6. I am so offended right now. Only reason I’m still texting is that I now get to introduce you to the magic of Taiwanese drinks, and you’re paying. (that’s why i asked about supplying; it’s a lowkey expensive addiction. the legal kind)
8. Drop names or it didn’t happen
9. Bitch, I barely have the patience for regular rope bondage
10. Do you have cookies available? I want cookies now
but they have to be the right size so the hood doesn’t get in the way
and i know chocolate is toxic for dogs or whatever, but it’s a requirement
OldSchoolDS
Aaaaand we’re dropping the numbers, and the questions. But don’t think I missed you ignoring #7.
No, I don’t have cookies, and no, I’m not going to ask someone else about your identity, same reason why I wouldn’t ask someone else about your kinks, limits, or anything else that matters.
PupJ
I mean, vetting is a thing. You don’t vet subs?
OldSchoolDS
I do. Don’t try to be cute.
PupJ
Fine
What do you want to know?
I paused, fingers hovering over the keyboard. The words were right there. I just didn’t know how to phrase it. It wasn’t about being politically correct or whatever it was that the family I preferred not to think about would say.
I genuinely didn’t want to hurt him. Jaime might have all the bravado in the world, but he wasn’t shy. If he joked about it, I had to suspect that a part of it came from fear, discomfort, or other emotions along those lines. Emotions I didn’t want to inflict on him.
I grabbed my phone before I could get more in my head about it. I knew Erika wasn’t working because she’d mentioned clearing her evening for her monthly dinner with Kara, the other Little in their inner group who’d quickly become besties with Sergio—their words, not mine.
As expected, she picked up the phone right away.
“Tony?”
“Yeah.” I cleared my throat. I should’ve texted, but Erika would have taken a while to answer as she pondered what I was and wasn’t saying. Or she would’ve checked in with Jaime. “I need advice.”
“Okaaaay.” I could see her frowning from here. “It can’t wait?”
“No.” I blew out a breath. It probably could wait, but then Jaime would start overthinking. I licked my lips. “How do you ask a person gender stuff?”
“Gender stuff,” Erika repeated, slowly.
“Yes. I mean, Eli is your slave. How did you ask them about, like, the gendered or non-gendered words they were comfortable with? That kind of thing.”
When Eli had joined the club, they had announced they used they/them pronouns and identified as nonbinary, but their kink identity was more important to them than their gender identity. As they started a more solid dynamic with Erika after years of scening on and off, Eli added it/its to the pronouns in their bio. The way I understood it, they used they/them in vanilla settings, and it/its in kinky settings where they were Erika’s object.
“What’s bringing this on now?”
I grunted. Of course, Erika was going to have questions. It wouldn’t be her if she didn’t want to weigh in every single factor before offering the kind of response I was after.
“Jaime.” I might as well put it out in the open. Erika wasn’t going to spill the beans, anyway. She wasn’t one of the subs with no filter and an obsession with playing matchmaker. Erika played matchmaker, too—she did it with Sergio and Abel—but she was more subtle about it. “He came by the other day. I’m… trying to set something up?”
I swallowed. That couldn’t have sounded more embarrassing if I tried. What was I, a teenager figuring out hormones?
“Huh.” Erika hummed to herself. “Unexpected.”
“The commentary isn’t helpful,” I said in the driest tone possible.
“Do you want my advice or not?”
I flopped my head against the back of the couch. “Of course I want your advice. I called you.”
Erika clucked her tongue. “Watch the way they move and then ask. No generic questions like you know nothing. Yes or no questions where you’re somewhat confident of the answer. In my experience, people will tell you the important stuff without prompting, but they need to feel seen first.”
I closed my eyes. That made sense. It would’ve been more helpful if she’d given me a script, but that wasn’t her style.
“Thanks.”
Erika chuckled. I heard that sound more often from her as she settled in her M/s dynamic with Eli. “For what it’s worth, I can see you and Jaime.”
“Fuck off.”
The last thing I needed was more people getting involved—subtly or not.
“See you at the club next week?” Erika asked.
Could she feel I’d been about to end the call?
I wouldn’t put it past her. Spidey senses had nothing on her.
“Yeah. Of course.”
I’d signed up to run a workshop on bare-handed spankings. Erika was going to loan me Eli to demonstrate, but maybe…
I’d noticed the way Jaime had reacted whenever I’d spanked Marga or Jen at the club. He pretended to keep a distance, but his eyes never left my hand.
Before I could fantasize about asking him anything, I remembered I had to survive this exchange with him. Erika’s words made sense, but my gut told me it wouldn’t quite work with Jaime. Not entirely.
OldSchoolDS
Please keep in mind that I’m trying to write this with as much sensitivity as I can, and if I get anything wrong, it’s not out of malice.
I know you’re nonbinary, and transmasc, and you use he/they pronouns. I admit I mostly use he/him in my head when I think about you. I don’t have anything against they/them pronouns, but I’ve always seen you and the way you hold yourself as very masculine. I don’t know if this is offensive.
I also know you didn’t like me calling you boy the other day, but is there any other way I can call you, other than pup? I read somewhere that some transmasc and nonbinary people use boi instead.
And what about the way you refer to your body? You use packers, and you don’t want me to touch anything you haven’t okayed explicitly, but I don’t know what vocabulary you feel comfortable with, and I would like to know.
Fucking hell. It read like I was a duckling just learning to tread water.
I started drumming my feet against the hardwood floor. I should add something else, something that would balance it all out.
Jaime texted back before I could figure out what.
The fucker typed fast.
PupJ
It’s not necessarily offensive so long as you understand that I am masc, but I am not a Man TM. And as long as you understand there are days I feel less masculine, and they/them pronouns make more sense then
I don’t personally like boi for myself, but I know others who do, so we’re not shaming here. Domms just call me pup or puppy or anything like that. I’ve never been with them out of pup gear or as a sub, so I can’t help. I mean, I don’t have a big reaction to boy, at least not from a gender perspective. It’s about the role more than the gender
As for body parts…
Chest (obviously). My packer and my dildos are my cocks. Or dicks. Or whatever you prefer calling them. There was a poll in the app a couple of weeks ago that was super weird, but whatever. I don’t have a preference for a specific word. Some trans people refer to their clits as t-dicks, or just dicks/cocks. I know León does. I don’t feel super comfortable with that (again, for myself)?
So I guess clit, front hole, asshole. That said, I avoid the actual words as much as possible. Especially the first one. So, instead of saying “rub my clit,” I’d go for “rub one off,” or anything like that. Does that make sense?
OldSchoolDS
It does. Absolutely. Thank you, pup.
I typed the response right away. Even if it hadn’t made sense—which I thought it did—I hadn’t expected him to be so direct. Or thorough.
PupJ
Good, because I’m uncomfortable as fuck right now
I stopped myself before I asked him if there was anything I could do. Erika’s words came to mind. People needed to feel seen. And Jaime had already told me what helped him when he was struggling.
I scrubbed a hand down my face. I knew what I could do. The question was whether or not I was ready to commit to it.
It only took a few seconds of weighing the options before I texted back.
OldSchoolDS
Start heading to Plumas. I’ll meet you in the Littles’ room.
PupJ
??
OldSchoolDS
You agreed to meet up tonight, remember?
PupJ
Yes?
OldSchoolDS
Good. I want you in full gear when you enter the room.
I know you take the bus, so work on your list of limits there.
PupJ
The bossy schtick is not attractive
OldSchoolDS
In my experience, only people who are turned on by something need to point out it’s not attractive.
I quit the app in my laptop and started moving. Even if he took the bus and had to get his gear ready, he lived closer to Plumas than I did. And I needed to get things ready, too.