by Cara Dee
They haven't spotted me, so it's one of those moments I get to see how they are together when they're alone. Sweet, open, equal, and without the playful bickering they draw from each other around me.
"Do you think this will be us one day?" Gabriella asks softly. "I mean, I know we can't get married, but…I don't know."
Dylan hums and stands behind her, helping her with a necklace. "I don't care about a piece of paper. We can have a ceremony if we want anyway."
I smile and put my hands down into the pockets of my dress pants.
"We could do our wedding bands in ink." Gabriella giggles and spins around, glancing up at Dylan while she adjusts his vest. They're fucking stunning, dressed up pretty, wearing those smiles for one another.
Dylan kisses her nose and folds up the sleeves of his button-down. "As long as I get to spend my life with you and Cade, I'm kinda game for anything."
Time to make my presence known. I clear my throat and walk closer, and they look up, smiles widening.
"Damn, Daddy," Dylan mumbles. "You look—yeah."
"Yeah?" I cup his cheek and kiss him. "So do you. Both of you—gorgeous."
"I love these." Gabriella fidgets with one of my suspenders. "Smoking hot, badass Daddy."
I laugh softly and ruffle her hair. It's already messy—dark purple and shiny. But evidently, that still makes her huff and check the mirror.
"Are we ready to get sand in our shoes?" I ask.
They nod, and we leave the bungalow together. The sun is setting, painting the sky in beautiful colors, and most of the sixty-something guests have already arrived at the beach. Before we reach our friends, I only have one thing to say to Dylan and Gabriella.
"Inked wedding bands sounds perfect to me."
Their sun-kissed cheeks gain a bit more color, and they grin at the ground, perhaps a little embarrassed to have been caught.
I greet my buddies and compliment the girls' dresses, and it doesn’t take many minutes before it's time to sit down.
"I'll be right back." I guide Dylan and Gabriella to our seats and then head up the aisle with Rio and Mark where Nicholas stands with the officiant.
He told us early on he couldn’t pick a best man, which isn't strange. We're a fortunate group of guys to be that close. Even so, tonight's about him and Kayla—and immediate family. We won't get much time to be ourselves with him at the reception; speeches will be vanilla and sweet, as opposed to kinky and hilarious. That’s why we've made plans to meet up before we go home so we can congratulate the newlyweds our way.
"Congratulations, mate." Rio steps up and hugs him. "Enjoy your lovely bride and join us in a couple days when you're ready for some play."
Nicholas chuckles and nods, adjusting his tie. "Wouldn't miss it."
Mark's next, and they exchange well-wishes and thanks as well before it's my turn.
"I'm happy for you, man. Kayla will make a great little Ford." I give him a firm hug. "Congratulations."
"Thank you, my friend." He gives my shoulder a squeeze. "I'm happy for you, as well. You three are good for each other."
"I appreciate it, Nick. No arguments from me." I smile and take a step back. "Go marry your girl."
I return down the aisle and find my way to Dylan and Gabriella.
"It's about to start!" she whispers excitedly.
Soft violins begin playing as the sun touches the horizon, and my girl crawls up into my lap. I place an arm around Dylan's shoulders, and we all turn to see Kayla and her grandmother, who's giving her away.
The devotion and love in Nick's and Kayla's eyes kinda say it all for us. The Little in Kayla bubbles to the surface as she reaches her husband-to-be, and she hops up and gives him a quick kiss. He chuckles and touches her cheek, murmuring something we can't hear.
"It'll be us one day," I promise quietly. "If not in ink on paper, then in ink where it matters."
Dylan places a kiss on my jaw and grabs my hand, and Gabriella sighs contentedly, watching our friends with a big smile on her face.
Behind the Scenes
Symbolic Touches
Kayla Ford
Gross. It's been so long since I wore jeans. Black, skinny, with very little give. Nothing yellow or pink or soft. I push back my hair into a simple ponytail—no cute bows. A snug white button-down. I scrunch my nose at my reflection in the mirror by our bed. But my shoes—dammit, a girl needs some comfort and a boost of Little confidence—so I grunt my way into a pair of baby yellow Chucks with purple stars on them.
Okay, I'm ready to lay down the law.
Nicholas is already at the club, so after kissing my kittens bye-bye, I leave our house and get in my shiny purple Mini Cooper. It's fierce. Just like I will be today.
Butterflies wreak havoc in my tummy, though Chelsea has given me pointers on how to distract myself from them. By pinching my thigh really hard, I can take that pain and let it fuel my anger and determination.
Sweet, little Kayla Ford… It's common for people—mostly Dominants—to think little of Littles. We're only into Disney and coloring books and sucking on pacifiers all day. I shake my head. I'm superlucky to have found a community where there's none of that. At least, not around me. If I noticed it, those people would be hearing from me.
I won't be so sweet tonight.
*
"What can I get—what the fuck?" Mr. Cooper is not the first one to be surprised by my outfit.
"Hi." I smile nervously.
I think he understands after a couple seconds. His expression grows gentle, and he pours me a Sprite with lots of crushed ice.
"It kills me that it's come to this, subbie—that you can't relax and be who you are." He hands me my soda and rests his forearms on the bar. "You don’t have to speak to him. You know that, right?"
I know. I take a big gulp, the fizz of the bubbles tickling my nose. "Nicholas has told me everything, and I believe in second chances, too. It's just… I would like to make your brother understand what his behavior caused that night."
He dips his head in a nod. "You have every right. Do you want any help?"
I shake my head. "No, thank you." Nicholas has already offered. Maybe a gazillion times.
The girls know about my plans, so I wave at them when I spot them by the booths. Gabriella, Evangeline, and Chelsea told me they'd be ready to assist if needed, too. But dammit, I can do this on my own.
The only time I accepted help was when I wanted to reach out to Mr. Quinn—Mark's brother's Master. He is a stranger to me, and my nerves got the best of me. Nicholas contacted him first, and then I spoke to Ryan myself. For a whole two minutes, where he thankfully understood my side of things, too. Then he was the one who kindly pointed out my side of things should come from me, not anyone else. And that’s when I came up with my plan.
"How are you and your brother dealing with things now?" I ask Mark. "Is everything okay between you?"
"We're…getting there," he replies pensively. "Did Nicholas tell you about our parents?"
"Yes, Sir." I do see where Greg is coming from. I understand the hows triggered by the whys. Then the slope was too slippery, and he made lots of mistakes even though he had good intentions—for the most part.
Mr. Cooper nods once. "Greg and I had dinner with them shortly after Mexico, and I think we found some common ground there. Took us a while to make our folks see where they went wrong and the ramifications of it."
That must've stung for the brothers. Hopefully, it's all worked out—or it will. I'm glad they have each other.
"They're here." Mark's looking over at the entrance, and I follow his gaze to see his brother. Greg looks a lot different from last time. Jeans and a black T-shirt have replaced his suit, and he walks a few steps behind a slightly larger man, who I assume is Ryan Quinn. A gorgeous woman my age is with them. Angel Quinn. Is she a Little? Because she looks the part in a lacy baby-doll dress, even though it's black. Her platinum blond hair flows down in loose, thick waves, the tips matching her hot pink lipstick an
d knee socks.
Ryan hands over what I think might be a toy bag to Greg. Then he speaks in Greg's ear before stealing a kiss, to which Greg bows his head.
"Yup, still weird seeing him that way," Mr. Cooper says with a smile.
I'm more thinking…this Ryan and Angel must've seen—and possibly unlocked—very good parts of Greg in order to open their marriage to include him. I'm ready to forgive and forget—once I've talked to him.
Ryan and I agreed we'd meet up in the Cave, so when they start making their way across the Club, I thank Mark for the soda and get off my stool.
"You sure you wanna do this alone, honey?" he asks, concerned.
"Yes, Sir, though I suspect the doorway will get crowded." I say that with a pointed look and a wry smile, because I know my husband. He will be there, as I'm sure the girls will.
"Good idea," he notes. "It's a nice spot."
I chuckle, and then I zigzag across the dance floor, careful not to bump into dancing foreplayers and, um, fornicators.
Liam is working the round bar in the Cave, and I take a seat there. It looks like Ryan is letting his wife pick a stall for a scene. She picks the stockade with an expression of glee. I've been told she's a switch, meaning I have no idea if the excitement comes from being a Top or a bottom. But then Ryan tells her to "be a good little whore for Daddy and get naked," so I'm guessing she's gonna bottom.
It's while Greg helps Angel into place that Ryan spots me, and he lifts a brow, a curious expression on his face. The butterflies are back. I nod in confirmation. Yes, I'm Kayla.
He walks over, looking awfully kind despite the sharp features, intense eyes, and ink. "Hey, Kayla. Good to finally meet you. I'm Ryan." He extends his hand.
I swallow my nervousness and shake his hand. "Nice to meet you too, Sir." The last part slips out from habit. "Thank you for letting me speak to Greg today."
He quirks a faint smirk and half leans against the bar. "He's the one who will be thanking you. I spoke to your husband yesterday, and he voiced some concerns about what you wanna bring up."
I should've known. Nicholas will do everything in his power to make sure I'm not walking into a minefield.
"Will there be a problem, you think?" I wonder.
"None at all." He shakes his head. "They're valid points—maybe ones a Top doesn’t always consider. He needs to hear them." I'm glad. And relieved. Ryan turns toward their stall and whistles sharply—without even sticking two fingers in his mouth!—and Greg looks our way. Ryan jerks his head in a get-over-here nod. "I'll give you two some privacy," he tells me, "but don't hesitate to come over. Angel's particularly passionate about Greg getting it through his skull what damage he can do in a place like this."
I manage an anxious smile.
Greg, as he walks over, looks anxious, too. Stiff in his posture, eyes flashing with apprehension.
Ryan claps Greg on the shoulders. "Save your apology for afterward so you know what you're apologizing for, boy."
"Yes, Owner." Greg waits 'til Ryan is gone, then takes the seat next to mine. "Thank you for meeting with me. May I call you Kayla?"
Well, yes. No matter how detached I'm trying to remain right now, subbies still use each other's first names at Switch. The lines just blur sometimes with new Tops, as well as Tops I'm close to. The first name slips out on occasion.
"Yes." I nod and take a breath. "Given what happened last January and that this is your first official time at Switch, I've taken it upon myself to explain some things to you." In my periphery, I see both Nicholas and Mark in the wide doorway to the dungeon. Sneaky Doms! "Nicholas, your brother, Rio, and Cade go way, way back. I have so much respect for what they've done here, creating this community—and most importantly, keeping it a place where we can let go and be ourselves." I pause, struggling not to fidget. "A good environment is crucial for many of us who aren't merely here for the physical play. You see, when I step foot inside Switch, I relinquish more than control. I give up all adult notions and leave everything to my Daddy Dom. I regress mentally and let my Little run free, because that’s one of the reasons he opened Switch—so we would feel safe enough to do that."
Greg swallows and nods with a dip of his chin, and it takes him a moment before he can face me again. When he does, the remorse is more than evident.
"This applies to very many s-types, whether we're Littles, slaves, or any other type of submissive," I say. "Now, when you barged in here drunk off your butt and hostile—" He flinches, and it's getting more and more difficult for me to stay so strict. It's not who I am. Crappity crap. I take a sip of my soda, my mouth dry. "I recovered quickly." I want him to know that. "But the fact remains, I was in a completely defenseless position mentally, and I don't get out of that headspace with a snap of my fingers. It's a landing that requires time and a practiced touch unless I want to crash. So you getting pushy and grabbing my arm was literally the least amount of damage you inflicted. It's what happens up here." I tap my temple. "Someone who regresses further or has been in a TPE relationship for an extended period of time can be utterly traumatized if a stranger violates their boundaries."
I want to wrap this up, because it's starting to hurt me. I don't for a second think Greg is a bad person after learning all the circumstances, and I hope he understands better now.
"I trust you read the rules now that you're a member," I tell him, and he nods. "It clearly states you do not approach a couple in a scene, you do not touch anyone without consent, and now you know why. It can be dangerous, even if it appears to be safe or harmless. So…yeah, now I'm done."
He clears his throat. "I—I understand. More so now than before. I've…started to discover just how big of a part the mind has in D/s, and for what it's worth, I'm truly sorry for hurting you, Kayla. I was ignorant and took my anger out on the least deserving." He takes a breath and looks away, then faces me again. "Would you be interested in giving me a second chance one day?"
Feeling better already, I slump a little in my seat. How some Doms stay so rigid is nuts. It's not comfy at all. "The second chance is already yours, Greg. I'm looking forward to getting to know you now that you won't be, um, you know, a dummy."
He lets out a laugh, both relieved and surprised, and I manage a small grin.
"Let's put the bad behind us, please?" I stick out my hand, ready to symbolize a new beginning. "I'm Kayla Ford. I'm trouble, but Daddy says it's okay. Until it's not."
Greg smiles carefully and shakes my hand. "Greg Cooper. I'm sure your Daddy likes the trouble."
I widen my eyes. "Um, not when I'm the one violating boundaries around here." I hold up two fingers. "The first time doesn’t really count because Master Dante wasn’t in a scene, but I was still rude. The other time, though…yikes. I interrupted when I thought he was hitting too hard on his sub, and Daddy got so furious." Rightfully so. Now I cover my eyes when I see too much pain. "He even threatened to put me on probation."
Nicholas was not happy with me.
Greg winces and lifts his brows. "Ryan's good at punishment, as well. Now I know what it's like to sleep on the floor."
Ouch. That would make me cry for sure. "Nothing hurts more than disappointing your Dom, does it?"
He glances over at Ryan and Angel. He is turning his wife's butt bright red, and she's cursing at him. Wow, she must be gutsy.
Ryan seems to find it funny.
"It's gutting," Greg murmurs in confirmation. I think he loves his Owners. It looks like it, anyway. "I have a lot to learn."
"You've come to the right place." Remembering something, I squirm in my seat and retrieve a folded slip of paper from my back pocket. "Everyone who identifies as submissive to some degree—so this includes Angel—is very welcome to join the weekly subbie munches. We discuss events, demos, and talk smack about our D-types. Oh, and when it gets too girly for the guys, they sometimes go someplace to shoot pool and probably talk smack about us."
He chuckles and accepts the information, pocketing it. "I appreciate that,
and I'll do my best to show up. I may not have the biggest interest in gossiping—" he winks "—but I'm certainly up for discussing this lifestyle. My eyes are more open now, as is my mind."
"Good, I'm glad." I smile. "I should probably go fill Nicholas in, and your Master looks like he's waiting for you."
"Indeed, he wouldn’t be him if he didn’t want to give me some suffering, too."
And Greg likes that suffering. Easy to tell. Sliding off the stool, I wish him a good time and then walk toward the Cave's opening where Nicholas is waiting. Mark must've returned to work.
My mouth stretches into a big smile of relief, and I go right up to Nicholas and hug his middle super, duper hard.
"It worked, Daddy."
"I know, baby girl." He squeezes me tightly and presses a lingering kiss to the top of my head. "I may have had Liam eavesdropping on your conversation." Sneaky, sneaky Doms! "He just told me what you said. I'm so very proud of you, Kayla." His praise fills me with warmth, and I lift my head to grin up at him. He smiles back and kisses my nose. "You deserve a reward." Yesssss, they're the best. He glances at his watch. "That little ice cream shop you like so much closes in twenty minutes. We can make it. What do you say?"
I drop my jaw and stiffen in excitement. "I would love that."
"It's a date." He gathers my hands and kisses my knuckles. "And tomorrow we'll pick out a new dress for you."
I fist-pump the air.
Behind the Scenes
Touched by the Ever After
Rio Kelly
"I appreciate you offering to do the demo." Nicholas sits back against his desk. "Kayla saw it and legitimately screamed, then asked why I didn’t love her anymore."
I chuckle as I picture it. "She thought it was for her?" I unpack the vacuum bag and hold it up, the glossy black latex reminding me more of a garment bag than a way to torture a lovely sub. "Poor girl." This is definitely up Chelsea's alley, however. Mine, as well. "Is everything set up downstairs?" I pocket the extra mouthpiece to demonstrate later.
