The Nightingale Rises

By: Cynthia Dane

“Totally,” one of Stephen’s girlfriends piped up. “I’m so glad to be poly, man. We can chill without any drama. So many cuddle dates…”

Nala’s new phone buzzed with life. And buzzed. And fucking buzzed.

Everyone in the living room turned around to look at her before going back to their super cool conversation.

“Am I queer if I’m into kink?”

“Oh my God, man, don’t say queer. The lesbians don’t like it.”

“But I am, like, totally a lesbian. Or at least I was born one. I love women! Loooooove.”

“Ahahah Steve, oh my God, you are not queer for being into kink. You are totally a lesbian, though.”

“Aw, my boyfriend is genderqueer enough to be a lesbian!”

“We should have, like, more kink in this world, yo. Wouldn’t it be great if we could come together for some BDSM?”

“There are so many clubs around here for kinksters. I’ve thought about joining them, but I’m shy! Someone go with me!”

“What do you like, Kathy? I’m sure we got some whips and feathers around here.”

“Oh, I’m not so much into that. I want a man or woman to tell me what to do and then have their way with me.”

More phone buzzing. Nala was vainly attempting to text Vincent, but all that was happening was randomly opening apps she had never heard of. Instagram? Snapchat? What the fucking fuck were those?

“Hey, Nala, come hang out with us!”

She perked up, seeing Patrick wave his hand over the back of the couch. “Oh, no thanks.”

“Come on, hon, we wanna know about your hot boyfriend!”

Nala bristled, but not because she hated people assuming Vincent was her boyfriend. Why wouldn’t they? She dressed up super fancy for him. He picked her up in the evenings and sometimes didn’t bring her home until much later – eventually, he would probably drop her off the next day. Whenever Nala was seen returning, it was always with that “Back off, I’ve just been fucked” face. There was no doubt that Vincent was someone to her. No, she didn’t want to talk about it.

“There’s not much to say about him,” she mumbled, trying to look focused on her phone.

“What’s his name?”

“Not telling.”

“Ah, come on! I see that guy out there all the time in his nice car! You’ve gotta spill.”

“Yeah, spill!”

“Her? With a hot boyfriend?”

“Patrick’s bi. He totally knows what a hot boyfriend is.”

“Damn straight.”

“You mean damn queer.”

“See, this is why the lesbians don’t like it.”

“Fuck the lesbians.”

“I’m sure you’d love to.”

Nala had enough. She stood, happy to take her new toy into her closet of a bedroom. Don’t give these people all that satisfaction. She turned toward them, boxes in hand.

“You wanna know about my boyfriend? All I have to tell you is that he’s a Dom.” Nala waited until their eyes lit up in curiosity, especially that Kathy girl who was talking about wanting to be bossed around, or whatever. “Yeah, he doesn’t take shit from anyone, least of all me. You wanna know what it’s like to be tied up? To be punished because you stepped out of line? You should wish to know a Master like him. Pshaw. You wouldn’t be able to handle him. Now, excuse me, sugar daddy bought me a phone so we can phone sex in the closet. Bye.”

As if on cue, the phone in her hand rang. Kathy jumped up, startled. “Oh my God, is that him? Is he omnisexual?”

“Dumbass, you mean omnipotent.”

“Yes. And yes.” Nala opened the closet door and popped in, turning on a fan she had clipped to the rod above her. She hoped it would be loud enough to drown out the stoners while not being too loud to talk to Vincent.

“I see you got the phone working.” Amazing! His voice was so much clearer – and louder – on the new phone. It almost sounds like he’s right here. Boy, that would be cozy. “Congratulations. I thought I would already be leaving you a voice mail, and then hoping you figured out how to access it.”

“Haha. Very funny. What’s up?”

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