Chapter 7
Ophelia. Now.
When Princess enters my apartment, I blow a party-favor and it makes an obnoxious, duck-like sound.
“Woohoo!” I cheer for her arrival. “Welcome to the Sub Club!”
Princess jumps, startled at the sound, but when it’s followed by the cheering of the other submissives in the room, she smiles and turns pink.
Within just a couple of days, Dove and I have managed to transform our small, two-bedroom apartment into a glittery, submissive safe space.
I toss my arm around Princess’s shoulders.
“I’m so glad you made it! Let me give you the grand tour.
” I sweep my arm across to my apartment.
“Ta da! That’s it. Welcome. You did it. But look—over here, Dove has set out one of her infamous charcuterie boards.
” I lead Princess to the kitchen to show her the table, overflowing with cheeses, fruits, and crackers.
Then I draw her a couple paces to the living room and point to the cracked open window.
“The fire escape is for vaping and gossiping.” As if on cue, two embers light up like fireflies against the city skyline.
I gesture finally to the living room, where Dove and I have shoved a foam mattress on the floor and covered it all up with blankets and pillows.
The subs are cuddled up in a puddle in front of the TV.
“They’ve been watching trailers for the last thirty minutes, but no one can make a decision—”
“FernGully,” Princess says. She settles onto the couch and helps herself to the bowl of popcorn in Zero’s lap.
With Princess settled in, I lean against the wall, cross my arms, and admire my club.
In total, we had maybe ten submissives and switches that came out tonight.
It’s a good enough crowd, and honestly about the max that my tiny apartment can hold.
Everyone is sharing wine, food, gossip, getting cuddly and giggly.
It’s cute, and my heart swells with pride that Dove and I were able to pull this off in only a couple days, with little to go off of but an inspiration and pure fucking spite.
Dove comes up beside me. She has a slice of cheese and cracker in both hands, and she hands me one before munching on the other.
“See this?” I gesture to the club before popping the cracker in my mouth. “Phantom could’ve never dreamed of a party like this.”
“I’ll bet the dominants are eating each other alive right now.”
“Princess! Are the doms miserable?”
Princess lifts her palm in surrender. “I’m not getting in the middle of it!”
Ginger hums thoughtfully and twists a lock of hair around her finger. “You two are a very odd power couple.”
“Who? Me and Phantom? Not anymore. His fault, by the way.”
Ginger’s eyes meet mine curiously. “How did you and Phantom meet?”
Ginger is the newest club member, only a couple months in. She’s a sweetheart and we’ve all adopted her, but occasionally, we have to catch her up on years of club-lore.
I sigh. “That’s a long story.”
“But a great one!” Dove clasps her hands together. “Please? Storytime!”
I take a deep, long sip from my glass of wine. “Alright, you masochists. You asked for it.” Then I begin.