Chapter 30
Master Ten sendsme a thumbs-up in response to my invitation to the Aquarium. I’m not sure if that means he’s coming or he’s just acknowledging the invitation but I’ll take it.
Queen Twitch watches me put my phone away. We’re waiting for our food in a corner of the restaurant, at a low table with armchairs, instead of a booth or table. When I first found Konk, I thought it was too trendy for me. But it’s become my favorite café. No one blinks if I wear little clothes, or even fetish wear. The waitresses all know me now and greet me by name. They have a running joke about Daddy’s cholesterol and steer him toward healthy menu choices. I love the setting: in a converted greenhouse. The roof is still cloudy glass and the restaurant is full of huge, potted plants. I like to pretend I’m off on a Victorian botany expedition to somewhere exotic like the Galapagos Islands but with smashed avocado toast and Tung Ting Oolong tea. I’ve even dressed for it today in a pinafore printed with antique maps over a high-necked, ruffled, green blouse with butterfly trim, and thick, green-and-white striped thigh-highs. I’m in my green mermaid phase.
Daddy added wire nipple clamps before I left the house because, sigh, Daddy. He promised to check them when I meet him at Rockefeller Plaza but didn’t promise to take them off. Double-sigh. They keep my nipples hard and chafing against the fine cotton of the blouse. Good thing the pinafore is thick.
Queen Twitch looks as fabulous as ever, sprawled in the armchair across from me in a fitted paisley pants suit and deep purple shirt with an extravagant spill of ruffles down the front. They’re wearing their crown atop silver-gray waves. You’d think that would look out of place at Konk but it doesn’t. There are yummy mummies, college-aged kids wearing shorts which it is definitely not warm enough to do, a table of drag queens, a man with a beard redder than Niall’s wearing a leather kilt and sporran, and holiday shoppers juggling their fifty million bags. You’d have to wear a full hazmat suit to truly look out of place at Konk and even then, I think everyone would just raise a mildly-curious brow.
Twitch sips from their sunset mimosa. “How are we going to unfuck this, darling?”
“Can you tell me what’s going on with Georgie? I’m not blind. I could see the tension between you and Mistress Maude and then when Master Bull demanded Georgie pull down his bottoms so he could see if the terms of the loan were being observed ... it was a lot, even from where I was standing. I could tell how angry your sir was.”
“Incandescently,” Twitch says before clamping perfect teeth on the recyclable straw of their drink. “Sir approached Elephant’s Playground for a present for Kiki. Someone deeply submissive. Claudia recommended Georgie. We played together a dozen times. Georgie made Kiki so happy. Her own pet mousie. You have no idea what it’s been like, with Kiki so sick. Sir and I would literally do anything to make her smile. Georgie made her laugh again. Em ...”
Twitch trails off, looking at the ceiling, eyes shimmering. Before anything can mess up their perfect liner, they dab a finger at the corner of each eye and clear their throat. “Anyway. I guess Georgie met Maude coincidentally at the club. They played together several times. Georgie was honest with Sir about it and Sir said it was okay as long as it didn’t affect our playtimes. Sir hadn’t asked Georgie for exclusivity but I know he was considering it. The next thing we knew, Maude told Sir she was considering collaring Georgie and wanted Sir to give up any prior claim on him. Sir said no. He and Kiki were also considering collaring Georgie as Kiki’s pet. Darling, from there it’s just become a huge old mess. Maude and Sir can barely be in the same room without yelling at each other. I’ve been acting as a go-between and I hate it. I got them to agree to this loan business but it”s been worse than negotiating the Treaty of Versailles. I’ve been trying to get Georgie to express a preference but all he’ll say is that he loves all of us. He’s so submissive.”
I nod along to everything Queen Twitch says. I was there when Maude met Georgie. Georgie was helping me in the Blunts Library; Maude homed in on him like a hawk. Maybe love at first sight isn’t a real thing but finding your perfect submissive at first sight? I’ll buy that after seeing the way Maude and Georgie were drawn together. I understand that Bull, Kiki, and Twitch had a prior relationship with him—and Georgie probably would like to be owned in a kinky sense—but a prior relationship doesn’t give Master Bull ownership of Georgie. And even though it’s not fair and I shouldn’t measure relationships this way, Kiki already has a master and a sub. Maude’s alone.
“Was he okay after everything last night?” I ask.
Twitch nods. “Poor thing. He was so apologetic once he came around. He’s never had a panic attack like that before. He said he thought he was comfortable in small spaces as a mouse. But being in that tunnel with a predator coming for him absolutely threw him, poor cherub. He must have apologized a thousand times to Maude, to me, to Sir. And it hasn’t helped the situation at all. Now Sir’s angry at Maude for putting Georgie in a situation where he panicked and Maude’s furious at Sir for humiliating Georgie in the Stocks.” Twitch throws up their hands. “Such a shitshow.”
We both fall quiet as the waitress delivers our orders. Mulligatawny soup for me and vegan lasagna for Twitch. Once we’re eating, I ask, “Is sharing him completely out of the question?”
“It’s certainly not something Maude wants,” Twitch says between elegant bites. “I gather she had a monogamous marriage before her husband died. Since then, it’s been casual play with the house submissives. She never collared anyone but her husband. If Sir won’t give up his claim, maybe Maude would accept some kind of sharing arrangement instead of losing Georgie completely but it’s definitely her last choice.”
“And you guys?” I ask.
Twitch sighs. “If I had a dollar for every time I’ve asked Sir to just back off and let Georgie go, I could buy my own tropical island, darling. But Kiki, oh, Emily, my Kiki. She talks about how much she loved having Georgie as a pet, how he kept her company when she felt low and how stroking his fur was the first good feeling she had after feeling nothing but nausea and dizziness for so long—” They break off and look up at the ceiling again. “I’m afraid Sir’s going to do something rash.”
I rub my breastbone, where a fierce ache has started. “I’m so sorry, Twitch.”
They heave a dramatic sigh. “Me too, darling, me too. I wish I had half of old Sir Winston’s negotiating power so I could find a way through this but nothing I’ve come up with has stopped those two from steaming toward a head-on collision like a pair of runaway trains.”
There has to be a compromise. “Maybe I could speak to Maude?”
“I’m not sure what you could say that hasn’t already been said but I’m not going to stop you. Anything’s better than this terrible standoff.”
I nod. “I will. I hate to ask this right now when everything’s so horrible but bad things are happening at the club?—”
Twitch waves a hand. “Don’t hesitate. I’ve heard both too much and too little. Sir’s been spending time with that smarmy Drew who’s filling his ear with how Logan’s ruining submissives.” They throw their arms wide. “Do I look ruined to you?”
Grinning, I shake my head.
“Thank you. Here I am, entirely unruined, and instead of actually ruining me, Sir’s doing group scenes with MacKenzie. MacKenzie. Nothing against a good orgy but I’m making Sir get tested before he sticks any bit of him in any bit of me.”
I can’t control a snigger.
“So, please explain to me why my Sir, who has up to this point made the occasional questionable decision about playing pick-up football games but rarely about his companions or the scenes he engages in, why is my Sir doing group scenes with that cabal of usurers?”
I slap my hand over my mouth to keep from giggling too loudly. “I’m sure they’re just bankers.”
“Whatever they are, they’re unpleasant and unfashionable. White dress shirts and red power ties all around. At least have the balls to wear pink.”
“Real men do,” I agree.
“Your Daddy looks magnificent in pink. Sets off the dark hair and dark eyes and high cheekbones. You should make him wear it always.” Twitch waves a hand airily. “What is going on behind the scenes?”
“Some of the members at Blunts have been treating the house submissives really badly,” I explain.
Twitch sobers from their studied nonchalance: leaning forward and wrapping their hands around their knee. “I heard about Ten’s inexcusable gaffe with DirtyGurl.”
“That’s the least of it, I think. Daddy doesn’t want me to worry so he hasn’t told me everything but there have been bad incidents with Shannie and Annabelle. Really bad. Leaving the club bad.”
Twitch tuts. “And how are we going to fix this?”
I swallow hard. Daddy told me I could tell Twitch anything if I thought it would help. Twitch has always been amazing with me and I trust them. “Daddy’s going to try to get the members who have hurt the submissives kicked out of the club. If Chairman Chess resists, Daddy’s going to move to replace him.”
Twitch’s perfect eyebrows shoot up. “Logan’s going to take over the chair?”
I shake my head. “He’s going to nominate Mistress Maude.”
“Oh, dear God.” Twitch sits back in their chair and takes a long sip of their drink.
“If Daddy calls a vote?—”
Twitch waves their hand. “Any day before today, any day, I’d have said Maude has Sir’s vote, without question. Today, Lord help us.”
“Is this really going to be the end of their friendship?” I ask.
“Darling, I’d like to tell you that once we work out the Mousel Mess everything will go back to normal but I don’t know. You know how these silly alpha men get about their women. I’ve seen your daddy do it around you. They all but beat their chests. Sir’s quieter about it than other Doms but when it’s about Kiki, well, he’s just not rational.”
“Can you talk to him about it? I’ll talk to Maude and maybe we can bring them together. Common cause, right?”
Twitch nods firmly. “Common cause. I’ll ask Sir to divorce his feelings about the Mousel Mess from his feelings about the club and focus on what’s best for everyone. If all these terrible things are going on right under Chess’ nose, then maybe it’s time for a regime change.”
“But it has to be done nicely. I like Chairman Chess.”
“I do, too. And watching him come back to life as Tessa’s owner gives me life. But maybe he took his eye off the ball for too long while he was grieving for Sara Ann.” Twitch slaps their knee and points a finger at me. “You and I, dearling, you and I are going to be the instigators of change, the inciters of progress. Viva la revolución!”
I lift my teacup in a toast to change.
Everything is crazy and a little sad.
I still can’t think of Blunts without Chairman Chess; every time I do, I want to cry. I know he’s made mistakes and maybe, like Queen Twitch said, he took his eye off the ball while he was grieving for his wife. But Brenna’s told me how good he was with her when she tried to resign: all the nice things he said about her and how he figured out a way for her to remain part of the Blunts family while being exclusive with Master Mac. He’s done something similar for Austin after Dana collared him. I can’t believe someone who cares that much about the house submissives could go so far wrong that he has to step down. I hope Daddy finds another way.
In the meanwhile, I’m a mermaid, with my merbaby, swimming through the seas under the watchful eye of the King of the Oceans (aka Daddy).
So, things aren’t too awful.
Livvy loves the water. It’s not a surprise after how much she likes her baths but discovering she can kick and splash with her arms as we swish her gently through the water, elicits peals of delighted giggles. She gets a surprise the first time she splashes herself but after one shocked wail, she’s back to giggling.
Daddy and I pass Livvy back and forth as we stay in the shallows. Even though Daddy’s healed and no longer in physical therapy, the doctors don’t want him doing things that cause pressure changes in his brain, like swimming underwater or holding his breath. So he’s happy to stay in the shallows and admire his mermaids.
We’re worth admiring, if I do say so myself.
The swimsuits Brenna had made are so cute and so much fun. I love-love-love my pink polka-dot swimsuit but I don’t think it’s going to see much pool-time now that I’m a mermaid. Livvy’s equally enraptured by her suit. She keeps kicking her legs up to try to snatch the filmy fins on the bottom. She hasn’t figured out she needs to uncurl her fingers to grab them but I foresee a lot of re-attaching fins once she does.
Around us, there’s a whole frolic of mermaids. I know a group of mermaids—merpeople, really—should be called a school or a pod. I’ve seen both online. But everyone’s diving and splashing and twirling around in rubber rings, so “frolic” feels more appropriate. We have two water-dragons (Laurel and Yummy), a rubber duckie (Sammi), and a mer-bee (Cynnie) as well and they should be included in our group.
Definitely a frolic.
One of the water-dragons keeps stealing my merbaby but she makes up for her thievery by admiring my merbaby effusively and dishing the goss about Icky-Rick.
I honestly haven’t thought much about Rick in the months since his horrible party with its horribler poisoned punch. For a few weeks, it looked like the poisoner, Rick’s manager, was going to trial and Daddy would need to testify. But then she took a plea bargain. Daddy says she’s likely to serve five or six years, which seems light for trying to poison people to me but I’m just glad she can’t hurt anyone anymore. She was unhinged.
Daddy cut Rick out of our lives completely. Daisy’s mentioned him once or twice when she’s visited but I gather she’s as done with him as Daddy. Although Rick threatened to involve Daddy in any lawsuits coming out of the party, that hasn’t happened. I think Max had something to do with that, based on what I’ve heard him say to Daddy about not worrying about Rick ever again.
Still, Rick hit my Daddy. Not once but twice. In the head. While Daddy was recovering from already being hit in the head by the evil massage man. Daddy refused to press charges against Rick but any counterpunch karma would like to deliver would be richly deserved. When Laurel tells me that Rick’s moved out of not just the City but the country, all the way to Mexico, to escape the backlash from the party, I can’t help but feel a little schadenfreude. Lawsuits aside, what drove him away was that, while off his head on ketamine, he went crazy on two of the performers at the party and left one of them with permanent scars. She didn’t sue but the group’s Domme, Harlow, blacklisted Rick in the community. Word has reached all the way to Laurel and Jiro’s group in D.C.
Daddy wraps his arms around me and whispers in my ear, his lips pressed against my wet hair. “I see you gloating, little girl. Is that being the bigger person?”
“Probably not,” I admit. “But it sure is satisfying. He hit you. Twice. In the head.”
“I remember. I don’t think his fall from grace requires gloating, though.”
I do but I keep that thought to myself. “Oookay, Daddy.”
“You are a terror, little girl. Who knew someone so small and cute could be so vicious?”
“I’m the Pallas cat of littles, Daddy.” I tell him, hugging his arms around my waist and kicking up my legs until he swishes me through the water like we’ve been swishing Livvy. I’ll admit the baby’s giggle is better than mine.
“What’s a Pallas cat?” Daddy asks.
“The grumpiest cat in the world. They have these really round heads and small ears, like me. They keep their paws warm by putting them on their tails. So cute. They live on the steppes in China and Mongolia and Nepal and they’re super vicious. I’ll show you videos. I love them.”
“I see. I’m not sure I approve of my little girl being a Pallas cat. I rather like the mermaid thing.”
“Pallas cats swim.” I think. Most cats can swim, right? “Their proper name is manul. I can be a mermaid manul.”
Daddy chuckles. “Okay, baby girl. I do love your mermaid cozzie, if I haven’t said so.”
He has, several times but I’m happy to hear Brenna’s gift is appreciated.
Speaking of my Big Sub Bestie, she’s been showing off her breaststroke to a raft of appreciative littles: Sammi, Amy, Aggie, Cynnie, and Matty. I’m so proud of Bren. Master Theo is lazily steering the littles’ raft. He didn’t come with us to the Aquarium but he showed up PDQ when Amy arrived at the club. Hmm.
Master Theo’s replaced Master Ten, who met us at the Aquarium. Ten grunted in response to Daddy’s “hello” but when I asked him to hold my new penguin friend, Franklin—while I held Livvy up so she could see the stingrays—he tucked Franklin under one arm and lifted both me and Livvy so we had a super-view. That doesn’t seem like he’s holding a grudge. As soon as we got back to the club, he disappeared upstairs with Fleur and Cappa, which probably means we won’t see the three of them again today. But I’m encouraged that he came to the Aquarium.
“I do, too,” I say, dragging my thoughts back to where they should be: on Daddy. “It’s got me thinking about another story for Olivia to follow up the first one. A mermaid story.”
Daddy hugs me and swishes me. “Baby, your imagination just blows me away.”
Mulling over ideas for Olivia’s Undersea Adventure, I cuddle happily in Daddy’s arms.