The overhead lights were on in Riddle when I arrived. Christmas decorations covered the walls, and there were about thirty chairs set up in the lounge. As the room filled, I became increasingly convinced I ought to leave now and hope no one would miss me. However, Miles, Gould, and some other Subs Club people arrived before I could flee. Kamen had to work, but I’d received his Dude, you got this text. Plus a video file of him singing “Don’t Stop Believin’” into a meat mallet.
I hadn’t told D this meeting was tonight. I figured he could find out about it on Fet and attend if he was really interested. But this was actually something I wanted to do without him.
I kept watching the door, half terrified that Bill would walk in. Half wishing he would. Probably if there was anyone who needed to come to this discussion, it was Bill.
I just never wanted to see his face again.
Mrs. Pell entered, and came over and hugged Miles, Gould, and me before taking a seat in the row behind us. Ricky arrived. And Dennis the spank weasel. Oh God. I so couldn’t do this. BellaSade, one of Riddle’s DMs. The woman whose boobs Jimmy X had wanted to touch. GK had to go for more chairs, and eventually dragged a spanking bench into the lounge so people could sit on it.
I sat with my friends until the meeting started. Kel went through the usual business, reminding people about membership dues and upcoming events.
Finally she launched into my introduction. “A lot of you are curious about a project that was started recently by a group of Riddle members called the Subs Club. Though the Subs Club is not in any way affiliated with Riddle, we have invited the club’s leader, David, to talk about its purpose and maybe clear up some questions and concerns you have. I’m gonna turn this meeting over to David.”
I received a smattering of applause as I stood.
“Um, hi,” I said. “I’m David.”
“Heya, David,” called Josh, the sub who’d sent the request that we review D. I threw him a wave.
I took a deep breath. “I don’t really know a lot about making speeches, but I’m good at running my mouth, so . . .” A couple of people laughed. “I was invited here to talk about some issues facing our community. Both Riddle and the kink world at large. Over the past couple of months, the Subs Club has worked to identify and call attention to abusive and irresponsible behavior. We came up with the review blog, where we critique sessions we’ve had with doms in this area and point out any abuse or unsafe practices.” There was some murmuring and whispering, but mostly a lot of blank stares. “Unfortunately, we’ve strayed from that purpose, and that’s what I’m here to apologize for. I do think submissives and bottoms should have a private place to talk about issues that are specific to what we do. But I know a lot of feelings have been hurt, and it’s embarrassing that what started as a way to help became a thing where we, um, undermined our cause.”
I looked at the faces and wondered how many people hated me, how many were bored. How many were on my side.
“I feel like the president of the Students Against Drunk Driving society,” I went on. “Like the least cool kid ever, standing up here and lecturing about safety and proper behavior. But this is important to me because too many friends have been hurt in scenes where doms crossed lines. And, um, obviously . . . I lost a really good friend recently.”
A man in the second row spoke up. “I don’t think any top in this room would hurt a bottom intentionally. Most times it takes two to make a scene go bad.”
“Very true. And if you’ve ever had me as a sub, I pity you.” There was a lot of tittering. “Honestly, if you’re in this room listening to this, you’re probably not one of the people we’re upset about. But what our club really wants is to have a dialogue about things that can go wrong in scenes. To encourage communication between doms and subs, so it’s not just like, ‘Oh great, I’m a dom, you’re a sub, get on your knees and suck me.’”
There was some hearty affirmation.
“Nobody plays like that,” a woman called from the back.
“You’d be surprised,” I said.
Another woman turned to address the first woman. “Tons of people do.”
The first woman shook her head. “I’m a sub. I’ve played with plenty of doms in Riddle and outside, and I have never felt disrespected or unsafe. The problem is in the way people perceive what’s going on in the scene. What feels like a violation to one sub might be a fantasy come true for another.”
“Which is why it’s not enough for individuals to talk about limits,” the second woman fired back. “We have to talk about attitudes. Because I have had problems with doms overstepping my boundaries, and I know other subs have too. Even when we’re very clear about what we want or don’t want.”
Some people murmured agreement.
The first woman was getting more agitated. “I just don’t see why we have to turn this into a drama.”
Mrs. Pell turned. “Honey, this isn’t a drama. This is progress.”
“Yeah, what’s the harm in talking about these things?” a man in the second row practically bellowed. “If you play safely, then you’ve got nothing to fear about talking.”
I wasn’t sure how to break back into the conversation.
“Because it’s gonna be a witch hunt against dominant men,” another man said. “I know all kinds of guys, they do everything to try to be good doms, and they’re getting no complaints, and then the girls they play with turn around and are like, ‘I didn’t want that.’ Sorry, babe, but that’s what a safeword’s for.”
“I know you didn’t just call women ‘girls,’” said a woman to my left.
Then everyone started talking. And shouting. And no one even listened to Kel’s scary dom voice.
I heard one man say, “That blog said I tied my ropes too tight. How the hell am I supposed to know that unless my bottom tells me?”
A woman yelled that the review blog said her wardrobe looked like it came from the Mormon Goodwill.
Another man said he didn’t feel comfortable domming at all anymore, because he was afraid he was going to hurt someone without knowing it.
Witch-hunt Man boomed that all of life was tough titties, and that he wasn’t going to stop playing the way he liked to play just because society was degenerating into a politically correct cesspool.
Then Ricky yelled at Witch-hunt: “Someone died because of the way people like you think!”
Everyone went silent. Ricky dropped his gaze.
I looked at Kel, who was very pale.
“Well, it’s true,” Ricky muttered.
Kel stepped in. “Nobody died because of . . . anything that’s been said here tonight. But we do need to start thinking about attitudes, as Dave said.”
“Listen.” My voice was shaking. “What happened with Bill and Hal was an accident. But it’s not an acceptable accident. And, um . . . um . . .” I’d lost my train of thought. I glanced at Miles and Gould, who both nodded at me. “It’s an extreme case, but it’s still not okay. In the same way that all violations of a partner’s limits are not okay.” I turned back to the group. “And that goes both ways. Bottoms have to respect tops’ limits too. So as these discussions continue, let’s focus on bottoms’ concerns, but also what factors make it hard for tops to know what a sub’s really asking for.”
I thought about the mixed messages I’d been giving D. Make me. But don’t force me. Push me. But don’t scare me. I wouldn’t want to be D for the world.
Witch-hunt spoke again. More calmly this time. “How about bottoms ask for what they really want? A lot of them do; I’m not criticizing. But if you can’t say ‘stop’ and ‘go’ and mean it, then you’ve got no business playing.”
“Hey.” Kel stepped forward. “Let David finish. Then we can let these feelings out. Civilly.” She shot me a smile.
I looked down at my notes. My hands shook on the paper, and I saw flashes of cries like a girl. Awful fuck. Choke the little bitch. This would never work.
“GK and Kel have agreed to set up a network through which subs can anonymously report abusive behavior.” I glanced up. “Later this month there’s gonna be a workshop on safety and communication—I told you, you’re gonna wanna knock my glasses off and give me a wedgie, but this shit matters. It’s about making sure we can all feel good doing what we do. I want to apologize on behalf of the Subs Club for the things we’ve done that are counterproductive to that goal. The review blog will be taken down, and in its place there’ll be a discussion blog that’s open to the public. So we can continue to have conversations like this one.”
I paused. “If you’re a dom who’s ever done anything that wasn’t consensual, you deserve a lot worse than a one-flogger review. But if you’re someone who’s trying their best and occasionally fucking up—in ways that don’t leave someone, like, seriously hurt, I mean—then I guess you’re just human. We’re all works in progress here; we’re all learning. So I hope we can learn together, and not—not be at odds. Thank you for listening.”
People clapped. A lot. I looked around the room and started to wonder if maybe things would be all right. Not perfect. But better.
I let out a breath, too relieved to move. There was a brief Q&A, which Kel and GK fielded. One dom asked if we were gonna keep the good reviews up on the blog, and if not, could we email him a copy of his? When I got back to my seat, Miles and Gould congratulated me.
I sat there trying to focus on the rest of the meeting, willing my heart to stop racing. I should have told D this was happening tonight. He could have come, or he could have refused. But I might have just done a grown-up, unselfish thing, and I wished I’d given him the opportunity to see it.
It was easy to be a leader behind a keyboard. And much harder to stand in a room full of people who had actually been hurt by something I’d done.
“You were extraordinary,” Miles said as we drove home. He and Gould had taken a cab to Riddle, so they were riding with me. “A little too willing to concede and apologize, but on the whole, very impressive.”
“I got people to do a slow clap.”
“That wasn’t a slow clap. That was just a regular clap.”
“It slowed down at the end.”
“That’s just natural clap fade. Slow claps start slow.”
“Like so.” Gould clapped once. Pulled his hands apart. Clapped again. Miles joined.
“Okay, I get it,” I said.
Miles stopped clapping. “It’ll be good, I think. This advocacy thing. Our new, review-free, nonexclusive site.”
I stared out the windshield, half listening to Miles chatter on.
It’ll be good, I said to myself.
And to Hal, in case he was listening.