Page 63 of Objection
Well, fuck.
20
Posey
To saythat the next few days after our scene went badly, was an understatement, but not for the reasons I had anticipated. I had anticipated Soren going right back to his asshole professional self after everything had happened. I was wrong. He was professional, but he was withdrawn. There was no snarky banter between us. He gave me space, the space I had asked for, but instead of that space giving me the time I needed to think about this whole scenario, it made me feel lonely.
I was lonely and I had no idea what to do. So, I did the only thing I could think of. I called Sandra.
“Breaking headlines! One Posey Adams is, in fact, alive and well despite her best friend and former co-worker losing her damned mind wondering what the hell was happening with the radio silence and one hunka-hunka lawyerly love.” I couldn’t help it; Sandra’s words were so unexpected I burst out into fits of giggles. Giggles followed by sniffles and tears.
“Whoa, Posey? Are you okay?” she asked with genuine concern.
“Yeah, I’m okay. I think. I don’t know,” I admitted with pure honesty.
“Okay, I’m all settled in. Spill that tea, sweetie. I’m here.” With Sandra’s complete acceptance of me and where I was, I wanted to tell her everything. But I couldn’t. I couldn’t tell her about the BDSM or about our contract. We had a signed legal document. So, instead I fibbed.
“I have a friend who might be in over her head and I’m not sure how to help her,” I began.
“Well, what’s going on with her?” Sandra asked. Good, she was buying the fib.
“She’s in this relationship, but it’s… kind of out there,” I explained.
“Out there as in spacy or out there as in alternative lifestyle?”
“Alternative lifestyle,” I explained.
“Ah, okay. Are we talking polyamory? BDSM? Minimalist? Off the grid?”
“Why, Sandra! You minxy little know it all,” I teased.
“Hey, I am a very open and accepting, forward thinking woman. Thank you very much.” We both erupted into giggles.
“She’s gotten together with a guy who’s into BDSM. I don’t have any experience, and— er— neither does she. So, I can’t really help her,” I stuttered through my fib.
“So where is the breakdown for your friend?”
“I guess something went wrong and she used a, um, safeword.” I cringed at my own words, praying I wasn’t giving too much away here, that I was coming off as ignorant and making Sandra think the right things.
“Well, first off, is she okay? Is she safe? Is she harmed?”
“Yes, she is fine. She said she just got scared during the scene. When she said yellow, or pause, I guess? He didn’t really reassure her as much as she needed. So, she said red, or stop,” I offered.
“And did he? Did he stop?” Sandra asked with a seriousness I wasn’t expecting.
“Oh, yes. He did. He stopped, they talked, they did aftercare.”
“So, what’s the problem?” Sandra questioned, confused.
“Well, she’s worried that because she safeworded, well, she’s just unsure of what to do now. How to feel okay and how to get back to a good place.” The words fell out of my mouth before I could really think about it. It was true. I just felt like I was on unsure and uneven ground. I wanted to get back to a good place, but I was worried I was too inexperienced, too much of a disappointment already before I had safeworded.
“Well, research is key in any lifestyle. Research and communication. I would tell her to research. Maybe even find a local community of submissives to talk to. Once she figures out how she feels, she needs to talk to her guy and make sure they are on the same page.” Sandra’s words made me take a deep sigh of relief. It was sound advice.
“Thank you, Sandra. I knew I could count on you.”
“Enough about all that, Posey. How are you? Really?” she asked with genuine concern.
“I’m doing okay. The restraining order is in place, and I feel a little weird. But I’m okay. Honestly.”
