by Shay Savage
“I don’t…I’m not sure I can.”
“Because you don’t know where to start?”
“Yeah.”
“With small stuff. It always starts with small stuff. Maybe if we figure out some of the small things, we can tackle the bigger things, too.”
“We?”
“You aren’t in this alone, Roc. I’m here for you. As much as I don’t care for him, Cree is here for you, too.”
“He’s always trying to help me.”
“And I’ll work with him as well if that will help.”
“You will? But…you don’t like him.”
“I like you enough to make up for it.” I smile, but Rocco scowls back at me. “What? I can deal with him.”
“Even though he likes…what he likes?”
I grit my teeth and swallow hard.
“I guess I’ll have to learn to ignore it.” I take a long breath and force myself to smile again. “I was thinking about what you said about blame. And you were right.”
“About what?”
“Blame might give you a place to put your anger, but it also holds you back. How can you move forward if you focus on whose fault it is? It doesn’t change the past, but worrying about blame can keep you there. I can’t blame Cree and Kas for what they like, and I shouldn’t let it impact me.”
“That seems…too fast.”
“It’s not going to happen overnight. I know that. I shouldn’t let it have power over me, though, and that’s my problem, not theirs. That’s a good thing.”
“It is?”
“If it’s my problem, that means I’m the one in control.”
“You like control.”
“Obviously.” I grin at him. “But not just with sex—I like control over everything all the time. However, if I let my own issues cause me problems, well, then I lose control over the situation. I have to be the one to make the decisions to change, to take back the power.”
“How?”
“I probably need to talk to Cree about it.”
“That sounds like…a difficult conversation.”
“It would be.” It’s my turn to shrug. “Maybe if I tell him why it bothers me, he’ll understand, if nothing else. I don’t expect him to change, but it might help me move forward a little.”
“How is that going to help you? Doesn’t talking about it just bring up all the bad memories?”
“Sometimes.” I tilt my head to better see his expression. “That’s why you don’t say anything about your past, isn’t it? It makes you think about those times you were scared, and it makes you worry about how someone will think about you after they know.”
He nods.
“The thing is, Rocco,” I say, “the less we talk about it, the more power it holds over us. Yeah, sometimes when I tell someone, it brings ups some memories. The bigger problem is the way it changes the relationship I have with someone. They don’t know how to take what happened to me. They can’t look me in the eye anymore, and they get flustered when I just say hello. But you know what? That’s their fucking problem, not mine.”
“You’re good at not letting it bother you.” Rocco grins and nods.
“I wasn’t always. In fact, I was just horrible at it. I got in a lot of trouble, and I was always angry. And yeah, before you call me out on it, I do still have a temper. I know it, and I do what I can to control it.”
“Not so much with Kas,” Rocco says quietly.
“I’m still learning, and she pisses me off.”
“You don’t even know her.”
I sigh. He’s right, and I can’t deny it.
“I’ll apologize to her.”
“You will?”
“Yeah. I fuck up sometimes. I can live up to that. It’s all part of the same healing. I’ll tell Cree about my past, and I’ll apologize to both of them if you want.”
“You…you don’t have to,” Rocco says. “I mean, not for me.”
“I would do it for you regardless,” I tell him, “but it won’t just be for you. It will help me, too.”
“You really think so?”
“Yeah, I do.” I sigh as I lean back a little, stroking Rocco’s hair again. The texture is so soft, and I feel calmer when I touch it. “Besides, it sets a good example.”
“It does?”
“Yeah. If I can show you how it’s done, maybe you’ll consider trying to talk about what happened to you. Start taking some of those little steps.”
“Not even sure where I’d start,” Rocco says. “Cree already knows, and Kas…I don’t want Kas to think about me like that.”
“Forget her,” I say quickly. “I want you to think of yourself first.”
Rocco shakes his head slowly.
“Tell me something,” I say as I shift around a bit so I can better look him in the eye. “Do you want English to be your major?”
“It makes the most sense, I guess. I have a lot of credits, and my grades are better in those classes.”
“Then I think we should get your major declared.”
“Maybe.”
“I’m catching on to you, Rocco.”
“What does that mean?”
“When you say ‘maybe’ you mean ‘no.’”
“Oh.”
“I’m serious, Roc. Declaring a major would be a great first step for you.”
“I just…I don’t think I can go in there and…” Rocco pauses again, frustrated. “They’ll ask me questions about why it took so long, and I won’t know what to say, and I’ll freak. The dean isn’t going to approve my major if I go running out of her office.”
“Well, maybe we can get around that somehow.”
“You have to go in person. I checked.”
“Well, maybe…” I tap my finger on my chin, trying to come up with a way Rocco could get his point across without having to actually talk about it. He did say he did well on written tests. Maybe that’s the key. “What if you wrote a letter?”
“A letter? But that’s not in person.”
“It is if you hand-deliver it. We write up a letter explaining why you have trouble speaking, and we give it to the dean to read. You wouldn’t have to go into great detail, and you can even include that you can answer some yes or no questions. Of course, I’d go with you.”
“You would?”
“Yes. Absolutely.”
“Would you help me write it?”
“Every word. We can write it tomorrow and then see the dean on Monday.”
Rocco goes completely still and quiet. I fight the urge to say something to snap him out of it because I have a feeling that he needs to process this scenario on his own. He takes his time, and my patience wears thin, but I manage to constrain myself. After what feels like a very long time, he looks up at me and smiles.
“Okay. Let’s do it.”
Chapter 11—Rocco
My heart is beating almost as fast as it was when Casey was on top of me. I wait for the accompanying anxiety, but it doesn’t come. It takes me a minute to realize I’m excited at the prospect of Casey’s help.
Declaring a major has been impossible for me, and I hadn’t managed to come up with any viable way to get it done. Casey’s willingness to help me with something so difficult surprised me, and I’m still trying to figure it out.
“Is this part of what being someone’s sub means?” I ask.
“What?”
“Helping me do…stuff that’s hard, like declaring a major.”
“I’m here to help you with whatever you need, Roc.”
I swallow hard, knowing I’m not getting my point across. Cree has offered to help me with the exact same task, and I’d always refused. I like the idea of Casey helping me though—I can even picture it in my mind. I can see us clearly as we walk up to the dean’s office, hand-in-hand and smiling at each other. When Cree had tried to help, I always felt as if I was making him go out of his way, and guilt would creep in. I also never considered myself submissive to Cree, at least not in the way I feel t
oward Casey.
How do I feel?
I’m not entirely sure, and even if I could put it into words, I don’t think they would adequately express the feelings. Maybe I don’t know the right words even though I’ve spent a lot of time improving my vocabulary—on the inside, at least. Maybe I’m overthinking it. Maybe the word I need is a lot more common.
“So, does all this mean I’m your boyfriend now?”
“Not into such labels.” Casey shakes her head, and my heart sinks. “Let’s just be us they way we are, okay?”
“Oh.” I tuck my head into her cleavage, trying to hide my disappointment. I had been picturing walking into the dean’s office to declare a major with Casey by my side. The dean would certainly ask who she was and what she was doing there, and I thought I’d say she was my girlfriend. I couldn’t really say she was my Domme, could I?
What would I say instead? Absolutely nothing comes to mind, and I tense up.
“Rocco, what’s wrong?”
“Nothing.”
“You are a lousy liar.”
“Am I?”
“Yes.” Casey chuckles. “It’s not a bad thing, really. It also means I know when you’re being truthful.”
“I didn’t mean to…to lie. I was just wondering what to tell the dean.”
“About?”
“Who you are and why you’re helping me.”
“Just say I’m your friend.”
“Oh…right.” It doesn’t feel right. Casey is a lot more than a friend to me. She’s also more than a Domme. I’m in such unfamiliar territory, and I want to figure out just how she fits in. “Girlfriend” made sense to me, but it’s clear that’s not what she wants.
“Don’t worry about it,” Casey says simply. “Other people don’t need to know our business, and giving it a label doesn’t change what it is.”
“Yeah…I guess.” I go quiet, not sure what else to say. Clearly, Casey isn’t interested in being my girlfriend or having me as a boyfriend. Being her sub is going to have to be enough for me.
“It’s important to you, isn’t it?” Casey says quietly.
“No, it’s fine.”
“Lousy liar.” Casey laughs. “If it means that much to you, I’ll think about it. I have never cared for the whole ‘boyfriend-girlfriend’ terminology, but I’ll consider it. Does that work for you?”
I nod, still unsure. Apparently, the gesture isn’t enough because Casey grabs hold of my chin and turns me to face her.
“Rocco, tell me what you’re thinking.”
“I…I don’t know the word for what we are.” I realize that I’m stammering over words about words and feel like an idiot. “I was trying to figure out the right words, but I don’t know them.”
“The words?”
“When…when I worked with a speech therapist, she told me that I had to use words to get my point across. She said if I didn’t get the words right, people would never understand me. I just…I don’t know the word.”
“The words to describe us? Why does it matter?”
“Maybe it doesn’t.” I sigh.
“You’re mine,” Casey says, “and I’m yours. As far as I’m concerned, that’s enough. Other people’s opinions about us are not the sort of thing that will keep me up at night.”
I take in a long breath and shudder when I release it. My head starts to spin a little. I have no doubt that this is just the kind of thing that would cause me sleeplessness.
“I’ll think about it, Rocco. I promise I will.”
“Okay.”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.” I try to smile a little.
“Good boy.” Casey leans in and presses her lips to mine. She moves her hand from my chin to run her fingers over the side of my face and into my hair.
I close my eyes and give in, letting her lead. I like letting her lead. Maybe I need to remember that and not worry about what we call ourselves. She’s my Domme—my leader. Just like she said, I don’t have to tell anyone else anything at all.
“Roc?” Casey pulls away, looking at me intently.
“Yeah?”
“I’m glad you trusted me with your story. That means a lot to me. I know talking about that was really hard for you, and I’m honored that you decided to tell me more about you. I want to know everything.”
I realize that I’ve told Casey far more than I’ve told anyone outside of Cree. Even the professionals who have attempted to work with me got most of the information about my past from files, not me. I wasn’t sure how Casey would react to it, but I’m glad I managed to get it all out.
“I’m glad you told me about you, too,” I reply. “It was hard to hear, though.”
“Yeah, I know. Thanks for not treating me differently after I told you.”
“Is that what most people do?”
“Oh yeah, totally. I’ve had a dozen so-called friends never speak to me again after I’ve told them. They go from ‘Let’s hang out this weekend’ to crossing the street when they see me coming. If I’m lucky, I’ll get a polite wave.”
“I always worry about how people will think of me if I tell them,” I say. “I already feel like a freak, and having people know why…that just seems worse.”
“You’re not a freak.”
“Really?” I chuckle. “I grew up in a tunnel.”
“Well, if that makes you a freak, then I’m definitely a freak too. It’s a good thing we’re in the kind of place that welcomes freaks, or they’d kick us right out of here.”
As if on cue, the atmosphere changes abruptly.
In the front part of the dungeon, the lights come on. The music stops midway through a song, and the dungeon monitors call out for those who are left to pack up and go.
“Hmm…maybe they do think we’re too freaky.” Casey laughs.
“I think they just want to go home.” I grin back at her.
“I can’t believe it’s so late,” Casey says. “I guess we’re going to have to go.”
I feel a familiar pressure in my chest. It spreads, creeping up and down as it fills my stomach and my throat. Usually, I feel like this when the ropes come off, and I know I have to wait until the next time Cree is available to tie me up. Now, I have no idea when I might be tied again or who will be the one to tie me.
I move forward enough to allow Casey to reach around me and start collecting the scattered coils from all over the mat. As I watch her twist the ropes into bundles, I realize I didn’t get this feeling when Casey untied me earlier. In fact, I think hours have passed since the ropes were on my skin.
Subconsciously, I touch the marks on my upper arms. I can still feel the indentation from the ropes, and that gives me enough peace to take a deep breath and stand up.
I pull my shirt back on and then help Casey shove the blanket and coils of rope into her bag. She straightens her skirt and ties up the laces on her corset before slinging her pack over her shoulder. She reaches for my hand, looking at me expectantly. I hesitate for a moment, then wrap my fingers around hers.
Another new experience. This one seems so innocent, but the connection between us doesn’t seem to end at our hands. I can feel it creeping up my arm, around my shoulder, down my side, and between my legs. My dick twitches, and as we walk into the lighted main dungeon room, I wonder if anyone else can tell.
I glance around, looking to see who is left. I see Ivan leaning up against the wall that divides the impact play area with the common room where members can get water and snacks. He’s talking to an older woman I’ve met before—Lisa? Laura? Lynn? I can’t recall her name, but I’m sure it starts with an L. She works for a hospital and acts as the dungeon’s medic in case anyone gets hurt on the premises. I see a few others from the college and the community milling about, collecting their toys, and saying their goodbyes.
Cree and Kas are also near the common area, holding hands and speaking quietly. Kas laughs and lightly smacks Cree’s chest before turning on her heel and heading toward the restrooms.
“I suppose now is my chance,” Casey says with a sigh. “I’ll be right back.”
“Where are you going?”
“To apologize. I told you I would.”
“I didn’t know you meant tonight.”
“Who knows when I’ll see her again? Cree is already pissed at me. Better to deal with it now so he isn’t fuming at me from across the room in our sociology class.”
“I didn’t know you shared a class.”
“Yeah, I need a couple of psychology-related classes for my criminology degree.” She stands on her toes and gives me a light kiss on the mouth before turning away. “Back in a minute.”
I look up as Casey heads toward the bathroom, right behind Kas. I hope she was serious about apologizing and that no one will have to go into the women’s bathroom in order to break up a fight.
I glance over at Cree, but he’s not looking at me. He’s looking right at Casey, and as soon as she starts heading into the bathroom behind Kas, he marches in their direction, hands clenched.
“Cree, wait!” I take a few steps toward him and reach for his arm, but he shakes me away.
“I’m not going to let her go after Kas again!” Cree gives me a sharp, angry look. “Kas was really upset, and I’m not letting Casey speak to her like that again!”
“She’s not!” I grab his arm more firmly this time, holding him back.
Cree’s eyes go wide as he looks at my hand on his arm and then up at me. He pauses, looking quickly at the bathroom door and then back at me.
“Okay…this is different.” Cree narrows his eyes. “What is she doing, then?”
“Casey…she…she didn’t mean all that stuff from before. Getting mad at Kas…she didn’t mean it.”
“I’m pretty sure she did.” Cree pulls back, and I let go of his arm. “She was nasty, Roc. I’m not putting up with that, no matter what you two have going on.”
“Cree, please. She went in there to apologize.”
“She did?” He seems genuinely shocked.
