Chapter 8
Chapter Eight
Seraphina
The invitation had looked so sweet when I first read it—pink stationary, sparkly gel pen doodles around the edges.
A tea party. Hosted by some of the other Littles in my class.
It should’ve made me giddy. It did, at first. I imagined tiny cupcakes with piped icing, mismatched teacups, maybe even little crowns or stuffed animals gathered around the table.
But the longer I stared at the invite, the more the dread spread.
That wasn’t just fun. That was public. That was me showing myself in front of others.
If I wore a dress, if I brought my stuffy…
they’d all see. What if I looked stupid?
What if I got it wrong? At least I’d remembered to smile and say thank you when I’d received it from a woman with piercing blue eyes that I later found out was Alisha.
“Don’t forget to bring your dolls or stuffies!” she said enthusiastically when I told her that I was interested in coming.
By the time I dragged myself back to my suite, I was wound so tight I wanted to scream. What was acceptable to do at a tea party? I wouldn’t know anybody there, or maybe I would, but I didn’t know who else was invited. She’d given me the only invite that she’d had in her hand.
Mistress V looked up from where she was perched on the couch, her sharp black locks falling into her eyes.
She arched a brow. “Why do you look like someone canceled Christmas?”
I threw the invitation on the coffee table and flopped down, crossing my arms. “Because I can’t go.”
She picked it up, read it, and then looked back at me with something dangerously close to amusement. “A tea party. Hosted by your peers. And you’re sulking because…? Why can’t you go again?”
“Because it’s ridiculous,” I snapped. “Because I’d make a fool out of myself. Because everyone would see me.”
She leaned back, studying me. “So you’re scared.”
“I am not.” My cheeks burned. “I just don’t…want to do it.”
Mistress V tilted her head. “What if you didn’t have to do it alone?”
That caught me off guard. Huh? “What do you mean?”
“I mean,” she said slowly, as if testing each word, “if I went with you, would that make it easier?”
I blinked at her. “You’d go to a Littles’ tea party? That’s not… that’s not your thing.” Or had I misunderstood? Could Dominants be Littles too?
Her smile curved, a little wicked, a little gentle. “Sweetheart, my ‘thing’ is making sure you don’t lock yourself away out of fear. If it takes me sitting in a chair sipping apple juice out of a plastic teacup, I’ll do it.”
I stared at her. She was serious. My chest squeezed. Dare I hope that she was as serious as I wanted her to be?
“I’ll even wear a suit,” she added, “if you wear one of your pretty floral dresses. Preferably pink. I like how soft and innocent it makes you look. Maybe afterward, I’ll soil you in it. Turn the beautiful girl into a pretty mess.”
My blush reached my ears. “Do you have a pink button-down?” Yes, I wanted her to match.
“I’m sure I can find one by tomorrow.” She winked.
“That’s… bribery,” I proposed, as my mind began swirling together excitement and future planning.
“Motivation,” she corrected. “Do we have a deal?”
Somehow, I found myself nodding. We sure freaking do! But I couldn’t show her how excited I was just yet. I needed to see her in this pink button-down.
The next day, I was twirling in front of the mirror, my blushing-pink dress fluttering around my knees, my favorite bunny stuffy clutched to my chest, and the flower in my hair that Mistress V had given me this morning.
Mistress V had emerged from her room in a crisp, black suit with shorts instead of pants, pink satin short-sleeve button-down, pink, white, and black tie perfectly knotted, and I hated how my stomach flipped when she offered me her arm.
Her black-and-white sneakers didn’t take away the appeal of her in a suit.
It had done quite the opposite. I licked my lips when I saw her and now understood why Daddy was on the table as an endearment.
Her energy always felt more masculine than feminine, but today it seemed to radiate around her.
Her shades didn’t help. They only made her summer vibe that much more appealing.
“You look lovely,” she said, with such certainty that I believed her, even though my skin prickled with nerves.
“Thank you, Mistress. You’re absolutely handsome.”
She smiled and led me on our journey.
At the tea party, my hands shook at first, but the other Littles and submissives welcomed me like I’d been part of their friend circle forever. They oohed over my bunny, complimented my dress, and pulled me into their laughter.
And Mistress V… she stayed close. She didn’t hover, but she never strayed far either.
When I glanced her way, she gave me the smallest nods, grounding me.
Her presence was steady, sharp suit in a sea of pastel dresses, and I realized I felt…
special. Protected. The only Little with a Dom by her side.
I wanted to sit on her lap, perched on the best seat in the house. Or should I say in the garden?
The tea was iced and strawberry-creme flavored.
Instead of crackers or biscuits, we had sugar cookies, ginger snaps, and iced cookies with unicorns on them.
No cucumber sandwiches for this party. But there were glazed donuts with either jelly filling or cream cheese.
Like proper ladies, we also drank water to cleanse our palettes before tasting something different.
Alisha had even provided lace gloves and huge floppy hats for us.
We needed them too with the sun being so high in the sky.
When Alisha got up to go check on something, I leaned over to speak to the curly haired woman sitting next to me. She was African American, and though she was having fun, I didn’t get that she was a Little.
“So how do you know Alisha?” I asked her.
“From class. I hadn’t met her until then. From what I understand, she’s not only a detective in the outside world, at the Ranch she’s known for throwing these wonderful tea parties.” She laughed. “I’ve seen her around, but we hadn’t actually spoken until then,” Renee admitted.
“Same. She does seem fun.” I smiled as she walked back to the table carrying more cookies.
“A lot of the Littles do. Though I’m not, I can still enjoy a good girl’s day, you know?”
“Yes!”
“What are y’all over here talking about?” A red-headed siren asked. She was also African American and I’d noticed that she was very giggly.
“Elara, hush,” Renee joked. “Elara, this is Sera. Sera, Elara,” she turned toward Elara, “she’s in our class as well.”
“Well, hello new friend.” Elara tilted her hat in my direction, greeting me appropriately. “Are you going to be a part of our dance troop for the final project in class?”
“Huh? Dance troop?” What was she talking about?
“I’m still working out the details, but all of the submissives in the class would dance in order to show our Dominants what we’ve learned during all these weeks of class.” I could tell that she was still working on it, but the scowl on her face showed that she was determined to do whatever it was.
“When you get the information, let me know? I’m super shy, so I don’t know if I’d be up for dancing.”
“There are other jobs needed. Lighting, music, props…” Renee suggested. “Offering any kind of help would count toward the project submission. You just have to wow everybody by whatever it is that you choose to do.”
“That seems easy enough.”
“Unless you have no skills, and then, hunny, we’re all screwed,” Elara added, making us all giggle.
It was nice talking to women who were all here exploring their journeys. I didn’t know if we would be fast friends, but their company helped me relax into the party even more.
Then Alisha and Elara got into a discussion about having multiple partners.
My eyes widened when Alisha mentioned that she had two Doms—Reuben and Adam.
Elara was curious about how that worked and the rest of us listened as Alisha explained what it was like.
Momentarily forgetting about tea and cookies, we were enthralled in her story.
I couldn’t imagine serving two women. I was still getting used to the one that I had.
“It’s not easy all the time,” Alisha started, “but they’re patient and guiding with me. I wouldn’t trade it for the world.” Alisha blushed and I knew she was more than a little smitten with her guys.
Elara smiled, but I could see the longing in her eyes. It was easy to see that she wanted that for herself.
By the time we left, my cheeks hurt from smiling so much and so big. I clutched Mistress V’s arm on the way back, my heart so light it might float away.
Best. Day. Ever!
Then my phone buzzed as soon as we got inside the doorway.
I glanced down, still half-smiling.
Mom:
Sweetheart, I met the nicest young man at church today. I told him about you. I’ll send you his number. He’d be perfect for you.
The bottom fell out of my stomach.
Perfect for me.
My throat closed. Images of the tea party flashed in my head—me laughing, me cuddling my stuffy, me looking at Mistress V like she hung all the stars. And then I saw what I’d see in my mother’s eyes: shame, disappointment.
She’d never accept this. Neither of my parents would.
The phone slipped from my fingers. My breath came in shallow bursts.
Mistress V’s voice was soft, careful. “Sera?”
I shook my head, hugging my arms around myself. “No. No, no, no. I can’t do this. I shouldn’t have gone to that party. This is wrong.”
She reached for me, but I backed away, panic clawing through me. “They’ll never understand. They’ll hate me. I’ll lose everything. I can’t—”