Page 38 of Secret Submission

That was weird.

“One of us!”

Connor blinked and turned his head to the Lounge. It was full of the missing submissives, with Iris, Sam, and Morgan standing at the front of them, beaming at him. Beside them were more submissives he knew, some he’d scened with, some he hadn’t. Freddy was there along with an entire contingent of male submissives, including Luke—Mistress Olivia’s fiancé, who rarely came into Stronghold these days.

“One of us! One of us!”

He stood there, not knowing what to do as the entire crowd surged forward en masse. Despite the loud chanting, he could still hear Mistress Julie’s peal of laughter as she let go of his hand, letting the submissives surround him. The guys hung back a bit, but the others all wrapped him up in a hug, still chanting.

“One of us! One of us!”

Something was lodged in his throat. His eyes burned.

Fuck.

He was going to fucking cry.

Everything hurt, and he didn’t know why.

It shouldn’t hurt.

But he just hadn’t expected…

He hadn’t thought…

Now, he was surrounded by chanting submissives, all of them so damn happy for him, even though he’d been lying to them—lying to himself—and they accepted him completely. Fully.

Enthusiastically.

The sob lodged in his throat welled up, and he bowed his head, closing his eyes.

“Aw!” It was a big group ‘aw’ that echoed through the room.

“Okay, everyone, get back. Connor needs a minute. Thank you for the warm welcome.” Mistress Julie’s voice cut through the din, followed a moment later by the woman herself as she took her place at his side again. No longer hampered by hugging everyone, Connor was able to lift his hands to his face, covering it while he tried to compose himself.

He didn’t know why he was so choked up.

Memories pushed at him. The fearful looks he’d gotten in high school just walking down the hallways. The way he’d always been chosen first for dodgeball, and the other team had always been afraid. The weight of expectations that had hampered him from the moment of his first growth spurt in ninth grade when he’d shot up above the rest of his classmates, towering above even his teachers.

Always trying to make himself smaller. Always trying to make himself less intimidating. Always trying to make himself acceptable.

Here he was in Stronghold, showered with acceptance, and all he’d had to do was show up as fully himself.

“Sit,” Mistress Julie ordered, and his knees buckled. Thankfully, someone had actually placed one of the high-top chairs behind him, so he didn’t have far to go. He heaved in a breath as she rubbed slow circles on his back, trying to get himself under control.

Crying in public had not been on his agenda today.

“Sorry, Connor, are you okay?” That was Iris, her voice a little tremulous, as if she was afraid she’d done something wrong. He couldn’t bring himself to look up yet, but he nodded, moving one of his hands away from his face so he could give her a thumbs-up, which made her giggle.

“I don’t think he was expecting that kind of welcome,” Mistress Julie said, her voice low and soothing against his rattling nerves.

“Aw, but… of course we wanted to welcome him. He’s done so much for… all of us.” That was Emery, a non-binary submissive who he’d done aftercare for several times. Connor nearly choked again. He hadn’t done anything he wasn’t supposed to as a Dom.

Of course, he’d wanted to take care of them. That’s what Doms did. And subs took care of their Doms. Everyone was supposed to take care of everyone.

But not everyone does, whispered a little voice in his head.

And he knew that was true, too.

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