Ignore the Warning Label Pt. 05

She was afraid of him. The realization took her by surprise, even after everything Devyn had said. She wasn't afraid of him physically. Everything they'd done had been completely consensual. Hell, she'd enjoyed it. She wasn't afraid of his roughness nor any physical punishment. She was afraid of what he might say. Afraid that he would make her feel as broken and alone as he had the night she'd called Devyn.

And, even more surprisingly to her, she realized that made her angry. More, she was furious!

That was pretty much unheard of for her.

Why had she let herself get to this spot? How had she become so blind? How long would she have let herself stay miserable if Susan hadn't invited her to munches and she hadn't seen everybody else there? If Devyn hadn't decided to befriend her? If the stars hadn't aligned and given her a chance to open her eyes?

The answer was undeniable. Forever. She would never have broken out of it, because she would never have realized that anything other than herself was the problem. That's why her whole body felt hot with anger. It wasn't just Paul per se, she felt like her positive view of people had been betrayed. She'd given him so much trust, had never believed anything but the best of him, and he'd betrayed that.

Vivian hated feeling this way. How did people become rageaholics? How could they stand it? She forced herself to breath slower and relax her muscles.

It didn't work.

More than just Paul, she was mad at herself. Mad that she'd let herself get into another situation like she'd been in in college, where she was incapable of even realizing she had a problem until she needed rescuing.

It was easy to blame Paul, and he deserved it, but the real problem was her. She'd never figured out how to live with herself. How to make peace with her own identity and just be happy. If she could have done that, then she wouldn't have needed to be told she was being abused. She wouldn't have needed to be told that her feelings mattered, or that she could have things any other way.

This time would be different. She stared up at the dark ceiling and promised herself, again and again. She would figured it out, somehow. It would be different.

Then she grabbed her phone again, and this time started typing immediately. His name was still saved as "Master" on her contact list. Forget that! Each of the six deletes felt better than the last, and relabeling him simply "Paul" without the title felt even better.

Vivian: Ive had a really eventful month. The last few days have been especially eye opening

Vivian: Ive decided to stop being in denial about why im miserable after we see each other

Vivian: It isnt my fault and I shouldnt have to keep making excuses to myself for you

Vivian: So I'm breaking up with you.

-------------------

Vivian's couch sucked. I really shouldn't complain, it's no better than my shitty Ikea couch. Still, the ache in my back and stiffness in my legs were savage. That wasn't what woke me up, though.

Vivian was trying to be quiet, but her feverish key pressing and whispered communications about player positions and ultimate charge didn't exactly lend itself to peaceful sleeping. Overwatch. Despite my rude awakening, it made me chuckle. She was playing Tracer, a character who was very fragile, but very quick, and needed to dodge faster than anybody else could react. I couldn't play Tracer for shit. I always ran into walls or other players. Turns out it's hard to dodge bullets.

Vivian, on the other hand, looked immortal. I'd known she was good from the way she'd run circles around everybody when we played together, but daaamn. She must have been holding back out of some measure of sympathy for the low rated players Malcolm and I got paired against.

My phone had a lot of unread message alerts. I hadn't paid any attention to it at all last night, and apparently Malcolm had texted Sam and Nicole that the four of us should chat. He hadn't said what about, but Nicole had gone ahead and assumed it involved my openness to playing with them. I was almost tempted to change my mind about the whole thing just to prove her wrong. Almost.

Surprisingly, Nicole was already awake, and we exchanged some very charged texts while I waited for Vivian to finish her game. Most of our conversations were already flirty, but after her inferring that she'd soon be getting into my pants, it took on a whole new level.

She seemed so excited, and I was too, especially after watching her last night and foregoing any chances to cum. I was horny, and Nicole's teasing about how hard she was going to suck my clit did nothing to make the throbbing between my legs calm down. Still, some of my nerves remained. The party had definitely convinced me that it would be amazingly hot, and it could work and be fine for my relationship with Malcolm. It was just sex. Just physical fun involving more people's bodies. All my love belonged to Malcolm, and it always would. Still... nerves.

How was this going to work? Sam and Nicole both seemed open to playing with Malcolm around, but they were both very much gay. Sam especially disliked men as a general matter, though that didn't seem to extend to Malcolm. She had a grudging respect for him, linked to his skill as a dominant and how he was the only guy she knew who she'd never caught ogling her tits.

We'd have to talk about it. I needed Malcolm to be there. I couldn't deal with doing anything sexual behind his back. That would definitely be over the line between this and cheating, and I'd die before I did to Malcolm after what Chloe had done to him. Maybe that's why I still felt nervous -- it felt like playing with fire.

To add to that, I also couldn't stand to have him doing anything sexual with anyone other than me. I hate that hyper-jealous part of myself, but for better or worse, it's just who I am.

So I needed him to be by my side, but only playing with me. While I fucked our lesbian friends. 'Yeah, there's no way that doesn't make me a needy bitch.'

Complicated, to say the very least.

"How did you sleep?" Vivian asked once her team had won and she was able to look away.

I jumped slightly and shook myself back to reality. "Better than you would have on my couch. How about you?"

She absolutely beamed. "Fantastic!" she said. "Well, it took a little while to fall asleep. Then I broke up with Paul and I felt better immediately."

My jaw hit the floor. "You did what!?!"

"Broke up with him! You're looking at a single woman." She bounced slightly in her chair, barely able to contain her excitement. She must have been dying to tell me, but been too polite to shake me awake.

"How did it go? Did you tell him how you've been feeling? What did he say?"

"Well... actually, I just sent him a text. I know I should have at least called him or told him in person or something, but I just felt like I needed it to do it. For me..." She said those last two words hesitantly, almost guiltily, but they made me cheer.

"I'm so proud of you! Do you have any plans now?"

"Short term, I want to just relax in the park. Beyond this morning? Not really. I didn't really think about that. It's weird, usually when I'm impulsive, it's chasing after sex, not breaking away from it." She fidgeted a little and looked down at her hands introspectively.

'Who knows, maybe someday, you'll discover that you're actually a well-rounded person.' But I left that for another day. One victory at a time, and I was sure she'd have a lot of emotional fallout to cope with already. So, instead, I asked, "What's happening in the park?"

Vivian pulled a mess of yarn from somewhere on her desk and held it up proudly. "I'm getting close to finishing!"

"Um... finishing what?"

"The sweater! You see, once the sleeves are done, I'll join these parts here together and they'll go here, and--" I sat, a little mystified by Vivian's explanation of how to knit a sweater. I'd never really given it a thought, but I'd had the vague feeling that all things yarn related just sort of came into being in one go. It turns out that sweaters get done in separate pieces, which made significantly more sense once I thought about it. It looked absurdly complicated, despite Vivian's insistence that it was really easy. The sleeve she had started, for example, needed four needles just to hold itself together, and she would use more to add lines. I tried to imagine juggling five or more needles, and balked.

Only Vivian. Only she could go from an emotional night of self-discovery, into a breakup, and directly into a sunny day with knitting needles and yarn. It made me smile. 'Whatever happens, never lose that part of yourself.'

-------------------

Something nagged at the back of Vivian's mind as she closed her door behind her.

She rummaged in her bag. Phone? Check. Keys? Check. Wallet, yarn, needles, sleeve? Check. She'd deliberately decided against headphones because she wanted to enjoy peoplewatching more than podcasts or music at the moment. Whatever she'd forgotten, it would come to her later.

Maybe the phone should stay behind too? Paul hadn't texted her back yet, and she didn't want to get wrapped up in constantly checking and rechecking if he had. She was in far too good a mood for that. Which isn't to say that she was dreading the confrontation that was surely coming. Last night, she thought she wanted a clean break with no complications, but right now, she felt like it would feel good to vent. To force him to acknowledge some of how she felt. To show both him and herself that she was capable of not being a total pushover. Maybe that would give her a bit of closure, and even if he yelled and was unreasonable and dramatic, it would be something to feel good about.

But that could wait, so she tossed her phone on the couch and headed out into the sun. It was a little bit of a walk, but Washington Square Park was well worth it, especially on a Saturday. Not a cloud in the sky, and much brighter in the open away from surrounding buildings. The park was a bit like stepping back onto her old college campus. NYU had a bunch of locations nearby, and it was a gathering point for all kinds of people. The performance of Midsummer's Night Dream she and Devyn had stumbled across last night was just one example. There were always artists and musicians, skateboarders and socializers, and of course, the observers like herself.

Vivian liked watching people paint. She'd tried to do it herself a few times, but just didn't have the knack for capturing three dimensions on paper. There were a few artists out today, and she made her way to a cute one drawing by the big fountain in the center. It was a popular spot for everything art related, from film to photography to charcoal drawings like this guy was doing. She watched suspiciously as he scratched the outline of somebody who looked a lot like James Spader, sitting just where James Spader had been in an episode of The Blacklist that had been shot here. Vivian settled in on a bench behind him to watch while she knit.

It had been a while since she'd come here. It felt kind of symbolic. Like she was ending an era of her life where she'd been unhappy by coming back to something that made her happy.

It had also been a while since she'd been single. Her transition from her college Master to Master Paul had been pretty quick. Okay, maybe a little faster than merely quick. She'd connected with Paul online before she'd even moved to New York. It had seemed important at the time! She had found some measure of balance in her life because of BDSM, and she hadn't wanted to revert back to the Tinder obsessed slut she had been.

In retrospect, maybe Devyn was right. Maybe she did need to learn how to appreciate herself first...

It was weird to see everything around her through a single person's eyes. Almost like she'd had blinders on without realizing it, and they were suddenly gone. This artist in front of her, for example. He was cute -- a bit taller than her, slim without being thin or lanky, dressed in fitted jeans, converse and a light short sleeved shirt that showed off his firm looking arms while he maneuvered the charcoal.

Just yesterday, she wouldn't have given him more than a once over before sinking into his drawing. Today, she eyed him appreciatively. There was a part of her that knew from experience exactly how to approach him get him to invite her to dinner. How to move and what to say to get into his bed.

But that was the brazenly dirty part of her that made her blush and want to cover herself up. She couldn't do it now, anyway. She hadn't worn any makeup, and her outfit was far to plain and modest to catch his eye. Besides, everything she knew felt fake. Like it was a script she'd memorized to get through dinner on Tinder dates. When she was in that mode, it never really felt like she was talking about herself, even when speaking in the first person.

She laughed out loud. There was a perfectly obvious explanation for that. Nearly everything she'd said on those dates was made up. It had been before Master Michael had entered her life and basically forced her to go out and develop interests other than studying and sex. How much better would those conversations have felt if she'd been bonding over her love of watching basketball? Or the latest Marvel movie? Or anything besides the fictional interest in documentaries that had been her fallback when asked.

Paul had never cared. She'd tried to connect with him about stuff outside the bedroom, but he never did much more than smile and nod.

Suddenly, she remembered what she'd been trying to think of. Her keys! Paul still had one. Shit... Well, she'd just have to get it back from him. But she really didn't want to have to ask him for anything.

Her good mood took a hit after that, thinking about what she'd say to him.

Time passed as her knitted sleeve grew one line of yarn at a time and Vivian lost track of the activity around her. She got so wrapped up in introspection that she didn't notice when the artist turned around and smiled at her.

-------------------

Despite Malcolm and my intentions to spend the weekend doing stuff in New York, we'd all gathered at Sam and Nicole's apartment in Jersey City . To talk about having sex. BDSM scene negotiations are fucking weird. They're great for opening up about what you like, establishing communication, essential for consent, and a whole list of other things, but still. All my life before this, I'd been used to sex being a thing that just kind of happens. You meet somebody, you flirt, there's a back and forth dance of sizing one another up, and things either progress or they don't.

Talking about everything ahead of time was still taking some getting used to. Doing it with Malcolm didn't help at all, we'd been talking candidly about sex for our entire friendship. Okay, maybe not with ourselves having it as the subject, but still.

In fairness to everybody, it probably just felt awkward to me because I was the center of everybody's attention. Specifically, me and my laundry list of needy requirements. Sam, Nicole and Malcolm were all group play veterans. It kinda felt like I was the only one holding everything up.

Nevertheless, it was important, so I set it all out in the open for Sam and Nicole. Malcolm, of course, already knew everything. He was a lot of help explaining things more eloquently than I could, and just making it so I didn't have to do all the talking. Hearing him tell them about how I was worried he'd feel cheated on, and how bad that would be bad given how his relationship with Chloe ended, helped me a lot. It reassured me that he really understood how afraid I was of ever hurting him.

For their part, Sam and Nicole were quiet and attentive. They sat together on the couch, a cat in each of their laps, Sam stroking Nicole's hand resting between them. I smiled and felt at the collar at my neck while Malcolm spoke. Despite the situation, it was nice to feel how well he knew me.

"We don't need to do this, you know," Sam said when we were finally done. "It's totally fine, there's no rule that says you need to."

"I know. I didn't mean to, either, when it first came up," I said.

"What changed?"

"Honestly? It was your performance at the party." I looked hopefully at Malcolm, but instead of speaking for me, he just nodded for me to keep going. So, I tried my best to explain how seeing their scene had affected me. How they had both clearly been having the time of their lives with Madison and Kate, but afterwards, how they had walked off the stage together, showing their bond. Nicole had been totally wiped out serving Sam, and Sam had been half carrying her, radiating care and protectiveness. That had seemed beautiful to me. The difference between the relationships -- Madison and Kate were fun to fuck, but Sam and Nicole were each other's soulmates.

I suck at talking about my emotions. I can barely do it with Malcolm, never mind other people! Describing to a couple how seeing their loveyness was beautiful? Yeah, that was fucking awkward. Nicole looked like she wanted to laugh at my predicament, but Sam smiled encouragingly, so I mostly faced her.

Finally, I finished, and Nicole immediately asked, "aren't you forgetting something?"

Still facing Sam, I said with as much sarcasm as I could manage, "Then, of course, there's your fucking fiancé. Beyond any kind of deep reason or whatever, she's just such a fucking tease that I want to fuck her. There, I said it." I nodded to Nicole, "You win!" She blew me a kiss.

Nicole was about to say something else, but Sam squeezed her hand and she backed down.

"Well, don't worry about us," Sam said. "We've played with hetero couples before. I'm sure you remember our rules, Malcolm?"

He chuckled, "Oh yes. Hard to forget after what you did to Fabien for breaking them." Sam looked quite smug.

I had to ask, "I take it there's a story there?"

"Mistress discovered she likes ballbusting," Nicole said with a grin.

As we continued talking, I realized that this really couldn't have worked out any better for me.

I was attracted to Nicole? Nicole was attracted to me too -- and she loved being smothered by multiple women, and Sam was very much into enabling that in her. I wanted Malcolm to be a part of it, but for him only be mine? Well, they wanted me to be as comfortable as possible, and while they weren't against all forms of male contact, they didn't want anything sexual from him.

Everybody was so damn understanding and accommodating! I wasn't sure how to react. It wasn't surprising, it was just a little overwhelming. My friends wanted to share this thing they thought was amazing with me, and they wanted to make it as safe and fulfilling for me as possible. It made me kind of choke up, holding Malcolm's hand and seeing all of their comforting smiles around me.

And so it was decided. We'd get together in a week and have our sexual adventure. Nicole, of course, groaned about being made to wait until the following Friday to jump on me, but Sam and Malcolm would need the time to plan things out and gather materials. Indeed, Sam pulled Malcolm away with an evil domineering look back at Nicole and I that clearly said she was about to start planning just what to do with us.

"You see that?" Nicole beckoned me over to the couch spot Sam had vacated.

"Yep."

"Know what it means?"

"I'm pretty sure it means we're in for a treat." I sat down next to her. "So, what did that guy do to get kicked in the nuts?"

"Fabien?" Nicole grinned mischievously, "he copped a feel."

That raised an eyebrow. "Some guy thought he could grope Sam and live?"

"Oh no!" Nicole laughed, "he was after my tits, and Sam took offence."

Sam's fiercely protective face flashed in my mind. "Ahh, that makes sense."