“I’m sorry, but M’Lady is in conference in her office. May this one get
You something to drink?” The server asked in her perfect manner.

Bette started to rise to her feet, but Candace gripped her wrist firmly
and pulled her back down on her seat. “Please, Bette, you don’t have to
do this.” Bette jerked her arm free.

“What I want is for you to tell Mistress Tina she has
guests. I’m sure her ‘conference’ can survive her absence for a few
minutes.” Bette growled the last word, biting it, grinding it with her
teeth.

“Drinks, M’Lady?” the sub repeated, not acknowledging Bette’s demand.
She recognized the woman as an alpha, but not Dominant. Certainly not
dominant to Tina, who was the only person she would answer to if she
interrupted Her. She also knew that Tina had already been informed of
their arrival; She would see them, or not, if and when She was ready.
Not before. Mistress Tina was very strict to the rules, and that made
her the ultimate Domme.

Bette seethed as Candace ordered their drinks. Ivan smiled at the
server and ordered non-alcoholic amber O’Douls for Kit and himself. An
awkward moment of silence between the four friends was broken only by
the sounds of slapping and moaning, and other sounds, coming from
somewhere off the main room.

Kit cleared her throat. “Bette, what you think you’re gonna accomplish
by bein’ here tonight? You know Tina isn’t your business anymore.”

“I can’t just sit back and let her humiliate herself like this. It’s
wrong!” Bette stated, knowing that this certainly wasn’t HER Tina.

“That’s not for you to say, Baby Sis,” Kit reminded gently, keeping her
face smooth to mask her own uneasiness at the lifestyle Tina appeared
to have embraced. Kit was a live and let live kind of woman, and she
had no quarrel with the BDSM lifestyle for those who genuinely liked
it. But it seemed so out of character, a 180-degree turn from the Tina
she had known and loved.

But loss does funny things to people. She knew, she’d been there. She’d
had her own turn at big changes and turnabouts. But none was so big as
her attraction to Ivan, her affection for him, this person who’d made
physical gender seem inconsequential. Of course, Bette had fought HER
transformation too, tooth and nail.

She didn’t want to provoke Bette to the point that she’d tell Ivan what
she saw the other day. Kit was still sorting it out for herself, what
she was doing and why. When the time came, she’d talk to Ivan. She
would. She’d promised herself she’d at least be honest with him.