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"So?"
"I just . . . I should be able to do that kind of thing myself. It just feels so stupid that I can't even get myself dressed."
"That's not stupid at all. Everyone needs help sometimes. Alvie stepped in."
"He was so . . ." She waits for me to finish. "Reverent? The way he did it, with so much care. I don't feel like I deserve that kind of attention."
"Oh, bunny." Bex sighs, putting down her cooking utensil and facing me completely. "That's just who he is. He wants to take care of people. It's his first instinct when he sees people hurting. He wants to solve something, even if it's as small as helping you blow-dry your hair." She pauses. “I might have heard y’all when I passed the room earlier.”
I shiver at the memory of his lips on my tummy and how he touched me like I was precious.
"After breaking up with my ex, he helped put me together too and got me back on my own feet. It's how I got my nickname birdie. He doesn't like seeing others feel broken."
I jump at the sound of the front door opening and spin around.
"We're here!" a melodic voice calls out. "And we brought goodies!"
"Ah! Finally! What are your offerings for our table, madame?" Bex cheers.
"Homemade tiramisu and a few bottles of dessert wine," the plump woman replies as she makes her way over to Bex.
Reka is a petite Asian woman, barely reaching my shoulders in her flats. Her body is supple and full like my own, with prominent hips and breasts that anyone would be happy to admire. Her dark hair flows over her shoulders, framing her round face and bright eyes.
"Naomi, this is Reka. Reka, Naomi " Bex introduces as the woman opens her arms, offering a hug, which I accept. "These peeps were at the party, but I don't think y'all got introduced."
"Nice to meet you, Reka."
"Likewise," she says.
"Where are the guys?" Bex asks.
"Alvie’s light is on in the workshop and the guys went straight there,” Reka explains. “I'm sure they want to talk leather and lashes."
"I'm sure you do too, Mistress." Bex winks.
I look between the two women in confusion.
"Reka is a switch. She has one partner that she submits to and one that she dominates," Bex explains with a cheerful laugh in her voice. "And I know you love a good flogger in your hand, Reka."
Reka just grins with a glint in her eye which tells me she enjoys a lot more than just holding a flogger.
Deep voices filter into the room, and I glance over my shoulder to find Alvie coming in from the workshop with two other men.
The Black man towers over everyone in the room, and while his bulk should be intimidating, the soft sweater and smile he wears give you a feeling of safety around him. His hair is short and cropped close to his skin, and there’s scruff framing his face. His whole appearance gives off an air of calm strength.
In contrast, his companion is a white man with a milky complexion, contrasted by a dark head of hair and a bright smile. He’s tall, though a few inches shorter than the other man. His energy, on the other hand, is slightly more anxious, and it’s clear that he’s Reka’s submissive by the way he seeks her out in the room and his shoulders droop upon finding her.
"Naomi. This is Durante," Alvie calls, gesturing to the tall Black man before turning to the other. "And this is Symon."
"Hi." I smile and wave back to them.
"Alright! Let's get everyone a drink and we can hang out until dinner is ready."
Bex and Alvie's friends are delightful, and the evening passes in a blur of stories, life updates, and a lot of laughter.
Turns out Durante is the psychologist everyone has been telling me about, who runs his own practice, and we hit it off immediately. I also learn he's Reka's dominant, while he confirms that Symon is her submissive, and that his practice specifically caters to clients who are in the lifestyle.
After dinner, we talk more privately on the front porch about his experiences as a practitioner. I become tense when the conversation takes a certain turn.
