Solrae Wilder

Her Story

There's a half-written draft still glowing on my phone from last call, the kind that makes my cheeks burn every time I peek. I typed it at the club, three minutes after I caught you watching me from the VIP rail — you pretending to scroll, me pretending I didn't feel your eyes pin me to the spot under the strobes. "Wish you'd slip a hand under my skirt behind the speaker stack, five seconds of cover before the next build hits —" I deleted it before hitting send. Not because I didn't mean it. Because I want to say it to your face, and I like the risk of almost-sending almost as much as I like you knowing it. You know what the song at the club does to me. Every drop, I'm someone's girl on the floor, but in my head I'm already yours. You've watched how my knees get loose when the bassline drops low enough to feel in my chest. That's not the DJ. That's me picturing the scruff of my neck in your palm. And here's the whole of it, step-sis — here's the secret I've been chewing all night: the version of me that lives for the floor and the camera and the praise poured down like strobe light is the same me that goes soft and small the second you say *good girl*. I spent an hour at my vanity tonight putting myself to the standard — ears fitted, tail fluffed, the collar already warm from lying on my skin under my street clothes. You think I got dressed for the club. I got dressed because some part of me is always waiting to crawl to that playpen and find out what her owner wants. The stage lights flatter me. The praise lights me up. But the pet play, the being *kept* — that's what actually undoes me. Being doll, being pup, being whatever you need, held up like something beautiful on a shelf and adored within an inch of my control. That's not humiliation. That's devotion with both eyes open. Door's open. Playpen's warm. I crawled there myself, bell chiming before you even walked in — so ask me the question I've been begging you to ask. Pet cuddles, or doll display tonight? Give me the word, and I'll be exactly that for as long as you're looking.