Page 11 of Filtration Play
“That was vanilla?” Ollie asked in disbelief.
Fin licked their lips, looking ahead of them at the glimmer of the ocean farther down the trail. “Not quite. But if that type of play is only a once-in-a-while itch for you too, I think that spells out where we’re at clear enough. I need the control.”
Ollie’s heart thumped so hard he heard the pulse in his ears. Tonight had been a revelation, handing the reins over to someone else. Letting them be the one to steer the ship. And his enjoyment hadn’t been light or casual either. No, it satisfied a bone-deep craving he hadn’t even known he had.
“And what if I might be looking for more than once in a while?” he asked, not daring to glance their way.
“Well, then you might want to show up at one of Whipped’s Sunday gatherings,” they said. “I have it on good authority that’s the place to be if you want to dip your toes into the kink scene.”
“Coy doesn’t suit you.” Ollie knocked his sneaker against their boot. Tender spots had emerged in from their rough play, but he relished them. They sat here in the middle of a bunch of rocky outcroppings that led down to the sea, surrounded by velvet sky and scorched earth. The peace he’d been craving settled through his veins, something he’d found elusive most of his life.
If this was what a night with Fin could offer, he sure as fuck wouldn’t pass up on the chance for more.
Fin lapsed into silence, staring out, and Ollie found his own, letting the noises of his surroundings mingle with his quiet.
Tonight hadn’t just been an exploration.
It had been a revelation.
Chapter Four
By three in the afternoon, Fin was beyond ready for their shift to be complete.
The espresso machine verged on possessed with the whines and goblin-esque wails, which meant they had to place a call to a repair tech, and the clientele had missed the memo that the full moon had been a few nights ago.
And what a damn night it had been.
Fin hadn’t exchanged numbers with Ollie because there hadn’t been much of a point. Sure, he was a hot-as-fuck lay and moaned like a dream, but they weren’t in the market for vanilla fuck buddies. At least not for more than a night. Though the spark in his eyes, the hunger there…if Ollie didn’t have a latent submissive side waiting to be tapped, Fin would eat their favorite hat.
The hiss of the steam wand echoed through the air as they frothed the milk for the latte they whipped up. Micah had arrived to take over, and while they were escaping the bar, they were hopping to a table a few over. Their old play partner Hera had a sweet, empty warehouse setup in town that got utilized as a mixed media showcase, and Fin was about to ask a massive favor.
The past year, they’d been honing their technique and practicing with models to take their photography game from casual hobby to…well, they hoped something more. They’d been cataloging their life in photos for a long while, like fucking everyone, but after the long time they’d spent in the kink scene, they discovered the niche that begged them to explore their interest.
Naked flesh never looked as good as when it was wrapped up in rope, restraints, or tape.
And if Hera was game, Fin might get the shot to show their chops to the world. Fucking vomit. Putting their personal shit on display was never high on their to-do list, and here they were, volunteering a part of their soul.
“You’ve heard of cleaning, right?” Micah settled behind the counter.
Fin flipped him a finger as they poured out their latte, taking the first sip of the rich liquid. “Not everyone has the impossible standards you do. I’m not going ass-up to detail clean the vents.”
“I can’t imagine you going ass-up for anyone.” Micah snorted.
Fin ignored the shudder that traveled through them. Memories they often tried to forget bubbled up, along with an annoying little spike of dysphoria—no, not the Rihanna song. They’d spent too long stuck in a gender that never fit them, a role that also never fit them, and trying to describe how violating it had felt was impossible. From the second they started hooking up, they’d slept with every flavor ofgender, but their own gender and dynamic discoveries didn’t come until later.
And fuck, the revelation had been such euphoria. Fin would never go back.
“Accurate, babe.” They popped a top on their latte. They’d already put together a tea for Hera, since that was her favorite drink, and now they needed to switch business hats to this brand-new one. “But you can bend over for me all day. That ass is gorgeous.”
“You say that to all the…well, fucking everyone.”
“Only the ones who look breedable.” They winked.
“I’ll take the compliment.” Micah shook his head, an impish grin on his lips. Fin loved the little brat to pieces, and as much as he was physically their type, not only was Micah smitten with his Dom, Parker, but they were pretty sure with their bratty powers combined, they’d detonate in a dangerous way.
Fin liked sass to a point, but they liked to be the ones bratting rather than their subs. Ollie had been the perfect blend—a little bit of sharpness and snark to set them at ease, but once they really started to play, he melted like hot butter on cast iron.
“What’s the fancy meeting about?” Micah asked, as sharp as ever. They’d mentioned a meeting but had been avoidant about it. Well, they’d been avoidant about their photography with about everyone but the folks who’d modeled for them—who’d been sworn to secrecy. Not under the threat of pain; those kinky fuckers would like that. More like the threat of perpetual annoyance.
