9. Pros and Cons

nine

Pros and Cons

Zelda

" T hou shalt not forget to eat." Edie snorts into the phone as she mocks me and my brand-new rules.

I don't blame her. There are a lot. Like a bazillion. The list of rules and regulations I have to follow is bigger than their cocks. And believe me when I tell you, that's a rather impressive feat.

My groan of acceptance makes it through the phone because my bestie just laughs harder at my sorry ass.

I can't help but blame myself. When we discussed all the rules, I was given the option to veto any that I absolutely didn't agree with—as long as I had a valid reason for it.

And seeing as I'd been implementing the whole 'Zelda can be a big girl' thing before my kitchen went up in flames, I had no valid reasons for not eating correctly or ensuring I got fresh air at least once daily.

Those rules are easy; I'm already following them. The other ones are a little harder to get used to.

Even though they'd already said I needed to work less when I agreed to stay with them, I have to cut down on working hours more—not so much that it will hurt my bottom line, but enough so I have more time for myself and, ultimately, them.

It makes sense. I work way too much. I take on too many clients and promise everyone things they don't need. And I only do it because I can only spend so much time reading or binge-watching Queer Eye.

I also need to like… talk to them. About my feelings and stuffs. I know they think I'm all awesomesauce, even if I don't quite understand why, but I don't know how they think I'll be able to just suddenly open up and be honest about what's going on in my head.

Edie's voice cackles at me through the speaker on my phone from the kitchen counter, where I've put it so I have both hands to deal with the hot plate and the microwave door. Kaz left instructions on how to heat the pre-made lunch on the stove, but I'm not quite brave enough to slay that particular dragon quite yet. One toasted kitchen is enough for any girl.

"So... are you going to be hopping onto those pogo sticks any time soon, or will you leave me hanging in suspense forever ?"

I can't help but giggle at her reference to their impressive, yummy tools. "It's a ride I'm eager to get on, and soon. But I need to get a handle on all these rules first, and we haven't had a limits talk yet." Taking a steadying breath, I run my fingers through my messy hair as I try to figure out how to put into words what's bothering me. "Like Edie... What if they wanna do things that give me the icks?"

"Oh, you silly goose," she scolds me. "If they have kinks you're not into, that give you the icks... then they're probably not meant for you, are they?"

My foot stomps down on the kitchen floor as I cross my arms in front of myself. "But I like them." If I were to look in a mirror right now, I know my bottom lip would be sticking out in a pout. I can't help it.

"I know, honey. But there is no use worrying about something you don't know will happen. So how about we be proactive instead?"

A huge sigh escapes as I roll my eyes. I know what's coming.

"I need to make a list, don't I?"

"Just a tiny one," she returns. "It's one you've made a hundred times already. List your preferences, and list your limits. Soft and hard. Give it to them. That way, they can look at it and maybe give you something similar."

"That's a stupid idea."

It isn't. It's brilliant. Because then I don't have to face Brennan and Kaz. I don't have to school my reactions, and I can get everything I want out without needing to say it. But it's not my idea, so I'm going to be a twat about it.

"Why?" Edie can always see straight through my BS.

"Because..." I pause, trying to think of a plausible reason to call the best idea ever stupid. "Because! Because how do I know they're not just writing stuff I like because they saw it on my list?" I crow triumphantly. And it's actually a pretty good reason.

As always, Edie already has a comeback ready for me. It sucks having a best friend that doesn't double up as a Little. "Then you make them write the list before you give them yours. Exchange it at the same time. No shenanigans. No hocus-pocus. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy."

"It sucks when you're this clever, Edie."

"I know. Even for me, it sucks. It's tough being this universally envied and hated." She lets out a dramatic sigh that has giggles bubbling out of me all over again.

"I love you, Edie."

"I love you too, babe. Now stop being a pussy and write that list. Then, when your men come home, you make them do the same thing."

After quick agreement, I say goodbye and grab some paper to sit down and pen down the list of things they need to know about me. Intimately.

Ageplay. Obviously. A girl needs her Daddies. And she needs her playtime. I know it's not technically sex-related, because I've never regressed in the bedroom, so I guess that kind of makes it a limit, right?

Next up. I do not mind a firm, naked hand on my ass, but anything more than that is scary. Maybe it's just because I've never met the kind of Daddy that knows how to use a paddle correctly.

My hard limits are easy. They've always been the same, and I don't see that changing any time soon. Anything that goes in a potty should stay there. And all my blood should remain inside me, thank you very much. Never ever, ever think about bringing a cane or whip close to me, and ignoring my super awesome self is a big no-no.

There. Done. Kind of.

It's always easier to put down the things you don't like. But opening yourself up and sharing the secrets of what you do like is so much more complicated. What if they don't understand that I need to be praised and valued? Some Doms, especially the ones that don't lean towards the Daddy kind, aren't always so keen on being overly affectionate and verbal in their attentions.

My hand hovers over the paper as I think about writing the next thing. It falls very firmly under ageplay. It's not so much a kink, and probably not really a requirement. But something I very much want to do, and need to be accepted for.

Will they look at me like I'm some kind of freak? Or will I be too Little for them?

Dammit. I really hope not. I kind of really like them. More than I care to admit.