8. Twyla
CHAPTER 8
I’ve pulled into our driveway after a much more successful pole-dancing class than yesterday’s and see Seth beat me home. He and Luna are playing with her mini basketball hoop in the grass not far from where I park, and they pause only long enough to wave at me. But before I can turn the car off and join them, my phone rings, and I push the button on the steering wheel to answer the call when I see it’s Clarice.
“Hey, lady. Everything okay?” I ask, hoping something didn’t happen to her on her drive home.
“Hey! Yes, everything is fine. I just thought of something when I let my mind wander on my way to the house, and I figured I’d call and tell you before I squirreled and forgot about it,” she explains, and I giggle.
“I get that. What did you think of?” I watch my husband and little girl take turns tossing the miniature plastic basketball through the white-and-blue goal that’s half his height, admiring the way Seth’s jeans ride low on his hips. His white T-shirt clings to him with sweat, since it’s hotter than Hades outside.
“Okay. So. Did you see how everyone straightened up when Crystal threatened to tattle on us to our Doms?”
I smile. “Yep.”
“Hey. Don’t sound too cocky, there, Twy. You sure did expose your throat to her like a good little puppy when she gotcha for being self-deprecating,” she reminds me, and my smile widens.
“True, true. Continue,” I prompt.
“Anyway. While I love her idea about using those automatic reactions of yours to trigger you to consciously shut them down, it seems like that would be something that takes time. More time than the few days you have before his birthday.”
I nod, even though she can’t see me. “I thought the same thing the whole drive home and was praying for a miracle.”
She chuckles. “Well, that could happen, I guess. But how about a backup plan?”
I sit up straighter in the driver seat, waving at Seth when he looks over at me with a questioning expression, then give him the universal sign that I’m on a call, with my thumb and pinky pointed outward from my fist as I put it up to my ear. He nods, then turns back to Luna.
“A backup plan would be excellent,” I tell Clarice, nearly swooning as I watch the muscles in Seth’s back move beneath his thin tee. I’d give anything to be the sub he deserves, even if it’s just for one night. His birthday.
“Whether you can see it for yourself or not, you are a great submissive, Twy. And before you get to whatever point in a scene that makes you freeze, I know for a fact that you follow your Dom’s orders with grace and expertise. I’ve seen it myself the few times y’all have done a public scene, and when we’re just hanging out in general,” she says, and as I’ve been told to do, I attempt to swallow past the lump in my throat that forms when she mentions seeing me that way.
My voice cracks like a pubescent boy’s when I prompt, “Oh?”
“Yeah. It’s more subtle then, of course, but you two live in your roles. You might not address each other by your D/s names or kneel at his feet, but you still do things like look to him when someone asks you a question, keep an eye on his drink and make sure to top him off when he needs a refill, and absolutely glow when he praises you for little things like that. It’s a beautiful exchange of power, and your part of that exchange would make any Dominant envious of your man. It seems effortless for you, like you do all of that without much thought, as if it comes as naturally to you as breathing,” she explains, and coming from a woman I admire exponentially—not even considering the fact that she’s a Domme half the time—it makes my heart feel too big for my chest.
I can’t think of anything to say, and it doesn’t even have to do with me freezing or clamming up. I’m just… speechless.
But Clarice, being her strongheaded self, goes on without waiting for a response. “So what I’m getting at is you follow your Dom’s orders flawlessly, up until the point where you physically can’t because of this instinct.”
I nod. “Right. And that’s the problem. How do I stop the instinct from… being set off?”
“Uh-uh-uh, my friend. That’s not your job to figure out. It’s your Dom’s,” she tells me.
My head jerks back. “What?”
“Think about it, Twy. There’s a limit inside you, whether you’ve consciously set it or not. And he’s reaching that limit, which sets off your stress reaction to freeze. Other people might be able to call yellow, or red, or their safe word, but it stops you in your tracks,” she explains, and it rings true.
“Okaaay.”
She switches gears. “Let me ask you this. And don’t go wigging out. It’s important. Okay?”
I take a deep breath, let it out, and make a valiant effort to stay clearheaded when I tell her to go for it.
“What happens during your scene, after you freeze and don’t follow Seven’s command?”
Instantly, I feel heat creeping up my neck, but instead of allowing my mind to follow its course up the rest of my face, I bulldoze through to answer her quickly, “He recognizes it immediately, stops our scene, and wraps me up for aftercare to let me know I’m not in trouble and he’s not mad at me.”
She doesn’t respond for a moment, and I check my phone to make sure our call didn’t disconnect.
“You there?” I finally ask.
“Yeah,” she breathes, and I’m surprised by the emotion in my badass friend’s voice. “I’m just so fucking proud of you right now, Twy. You did it.”
I feel tears try to climb up my throat and tingle my nose at her response, but I laugh to keep them down. “My face is super-hot right now,” I admit.
“But you answered me, woman! You didn’t let that anxiety steal your voice.” After a few seconds—in which she forces me to do a happy dance with her over the phone—she says, “Okay, so that’s an excellent Dom. As we all know Seven is. It’s a Dominant’s job to recognize when their submissive has reached a limit but is, for whatever reason, unable to call their safe word. And whether that safe word is called or not, if a limit is reached, it’s their job to either pause or completely end the scene, without any repercussions for the sub. So, just to clarify, he’s always completely ended the scene? He’s never attempted to pause and assess, then continue on with it? Like he would if you called ‘yellow’ instead of ‘red’?”
I nod again. “Right.”
“Hm.” She’s quiet while she deliberates. “Sooo… okay. I think I’m having a thought.”
I bark out a laugh, and it must be loud, because Seth glances over at me with a small smile on his face, telling me he heard it even from outside of my car. I snort and cover my mouth when Luna throws the ball at him and nails him right in the crotch. The ball is hollow plastic and way lighter than a normal basketball, but she really chucked it at him, and he falls to his knees in the grass, covering the front of his pants. My face falls right along with him, and I almost end the call and run to check on him. But just as Luna reaches him, she lets out a shriek when he lunges upward and grabs her, pulling her down on top of his belly and tickling the hell out of her.
“What’s your thought?” I ask Clarice, hurrying her along now, because I really want to join my little family in all their fun.
“Right. Here’s what you do,” she tells me.
And hearing her out, knowing she’s a part-time Dominant herself, I believe her plan will work brilliantly.
As long as I don’t mess it up.