Page 15 of João
A trickle of cold emanated from my chest, but I ruthlessly tamped it down.
“I’m straight, Rawana.”
“Really? So, does that mean you have a new sub? Or are you at least topping in scenes at the club? Demonstrations?” My skin crawled at the questions. “Don’t even answer; your face is sufficient response. Quentino, you need to go back to therapy. Grieving…even an absent parent is?—”
“Is something I don’t need to do.” I waited calmly as Rawana’s mouth gaped open and then closed. “And even if I needed to, you and I both know it would have to happen when I’m emotionally ready.”
“How can you advocate for good mental health for your siblings—as far as recommending your brother to come to me for couples counseling—but you can’t do it for yourself? What happened to dreamer João, who pictured making sure Black men took care of their mental health the same way they took care of everything else?” Rawana gently chided me.
“Listen, I found other ways to support.” I gestured to the full room and everyone starting to settle down. I had no space for worrying about the death of my father. He did nothing but cause pain during his life, and now that he was gone… Well, the silence that gathered where my hate used to reside was something new to get used to, but I would manage. For so long, I’d focused on my club, my siblings, and making sure Julio couldn’t hurt us, and now…now the hollowness refused to leave me behind. The only brightness in my days besides my family was thoughts of Gisele and the potential that brimmed between us. Just thinking of her had me schooling my features not to show anything to Rawana. She was a fantastic Domme because she was very perceptive, almost as much as I was.
“João, you— Listen, I’m not gonna press you, but you know I’m here, right? And I have some good recommendations.”
“Now why you lying? You know you’re gonna call me in a week asking me why I’m not doing any scenes for Dom Demonstration Night.”
Rawana’s sigh could have blown buildings away. “You know me too well.”
Smirking I walked off, leaving her rolling her eyes at me. I clapped hands with Knox, the newest member of our little club. This was his first brunch, so we had a little surprise for him, a tradition that every single one of us had to endure.
“What’s up, my man? Good to see you.” I clapped his back.
“Same, same. What you have going on here? This is some good shit. You know I have my support group for NA, but those can be a little depressing at times. I’m looking forward to the camaraderie.”
“Well, before you get too comfortable…” I smirked and cleared my throat. At this point, all but a few stragglers were settled at the U-shaped table we’d set for our meal. “Good morning, everybody. Welcome to our monthly fellowship brunch. We have a new member, Knox. Many of you already know him from Q’s Space, but this group here…this is the core group.”
“Welcome, brother, sit, sit. We got some questions for you.” Old Man Joe gestured at Knox impatiently; he just wanted to get to the eating part.
“I guess I’ll start. So…why are you a Dom?” Rawana asked, the newest member before Knox joined.
Knox sat pensively, his plate untouched, as he studied everyone around the room.
“That answer has evolved over the years. At first, I would have thought it was because of my personality, my tendency to be bossy as fuck. I can’t help myself, but now, after understanding kink and Black kink specifically…I do this to give my sub the space to release all control, not to have to run anything but to me, and for me. It’s the space to be who I am authentically, devoid of any artifice.”
“Not this nigga trying to be mad deep with his answer off the bat,” Deacon, one of my brother’s good friends, said, and everyone chuckled.
“Damn, can you take anything seriously?” Jardel asked, shaking his head.
“You know he can’t.” Joaquim grabbed a waffle and stuffed his mouth.
Inviting my brothers had seemed like a good idea when I first brought them into this circle; clearly, I had a lapse in judgment. They were not exactly Doms in their relationships, but they certainly topped their partners, and even though I tried to know the least about their kinks, I knew they were anything but vanilla.
“Next,” I reminded them and kept the questions moving along. Every member had a question to ask Knox; the questions were never the same, but the reason behind them never changed. We wanted to ensure that the people in this group understood the responsibility we had to our community, and together, we made sure that our club also stayed free of predators and abusers, people who took advantage of kink for the wrong reasons.
People like my father.
What would I have answered if I was Knox, just starting in my path? Before, I had that question well-secured in my soul, but now… Nothing I’d done in the past months had given me any fulfillment. I ensured my partners during scenes and my old subs were well cared for, but nothing gave me that high again.
Gisele waiting by my door, a glass of bourbon in her hands, wearing a yellow dress, brightening my home, deep brown skin glowing as she enjoyed her submissiveness… My skin prickled, a rush of adrenaline flooding my mouth with want. I hadn’t lit up like this in a long time, and just at a mere thought? Before, creating scenes in my mind, thinking of protocols and rituals,it all thrilled me. No matter where I was, my brain was always formulating new ideas to keep my subs on their toes and myself stimulated, but that spark had faded.
“You good? You look like a kid meeting their superhero for the first time,” Joaquim murmured in my ear as Knox fielded questions, some lighter than others.
“I’m straight,” I replied back.
“Really? I mean, it’s good to see you lighting up from inside; I haven’t seen you like this in a minute, and now that Pai…”
“Pai what?” My voice dropped, leached of all emotion.
Joaquim swiveled in his seat and stared at me for a second.
