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Poor pup.

Jaime

You’re mocking me and I don’t appreciate it

I scowled at the screen. I knew he wasn’t being mean, but I was serious about this. What he’d done meant something, dammit. I didn’t care if it didn’t go anywhere or only journalism students watched it.

Tony

Just as I don’t appreciate becoming the face for the trans movement.

Jaime

What is that supposed to mean?

Tony

It means I’m not an expert on trans anything, as you love reminding me. It is not my place to advocate for something I’m nowhere near an expert on.

Jaime

Okaaaaaaaay, but…

What if there isn’t an expert who’s willing to do it? Or, there are experts, but they’re not given a big enough speaking platform

Tony

You and I both know it’s more nuanced than that.

Of course I knew it was more nuanced than that. I tightened my grip around my phone.

“You’re gonna crack the screen if you keep that up, pup.”

Huh?

I looked up to see Mónica watching me. It shouldn’t have been a surprise. I had Kara next to me, and Mónica never took her eyes off her wherever we went. It was the same with everyone, but we all watched out for Kara more than anyone else. It didn’t matter that she’d been with us for about two years now and was nowhere near the place she’d been when she joined. Everyone was protective of her. Obviously, that would apply tenfold for her Domme.

“Wouldn’t be the first time,” I retorted.

Not that it deterred her. Shit like that worked with people when they didn’t know me well enough. Now, not only was she not calling me out, but everyone had their eyes on me, as if Mónica’s attention alone hadn’t been enough.

“Who are you texting?” Sergio asked. He did it all innocently. I’d think it was a ruse if I, too, didn’t know him well enough. Or if he wasn’t as expressive as he was, his lips tilting down as he caught on. “Is it Tony? Do I have to hit him? I’m sure my therapist will say it’s cathartic or something.”

I snorted. “I hope she doesn’t?”

My knowledge on what therapists were supposed to say or do was non-existent—never been to one—and I wasn’t squeamish about violence, but I never saw a therapist on TV advocate for hitting people.

The image of Sergio hitting Tony—or trying to—was kind of funny, though. Funny enough I eased the grip on my phone.

“I’m just frustrated.” I sighed. Understatement of the year. I kept feeling like that lately. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?”

That was Erika.

I glanced at her. It would be great if someone cared to enlighten me on why they’d picked today to gang up on me. They were supposed to be cooing over Sergio and Abel’s new cat, not fussing over me or calling me out on my commitment issues with other Domms.

“He’s not appreciated enough.”