Chapter 12
Chapter Twelve
Emmy
I couldn’t help feeling nervous when we made our way upstairs for the class after breakfast. Jack assured me that if I safeworded, or wanted to leave, he wouldn’t be upset with me.
Except I didn’t want to do that. I wanted to be brave, wanted to do this. For me, yes, but for him, too. I wanted to be brave for him because it would help me keep being brave.
Despite the things I’d accomplished in my life professionally, the past twenty-four hours proved to me I’d been anything but brave in my personal life.
And I was sick and tired of being a coward. Staying stuck in my rut was no longer an option, especially when there stood Jack, his hand extended to help me out but not forcing me to take it.
Of course these several days at Rawhide Ranch wouldn’t magically fix me or erase my wounded past, but this experience already illuminated a clearly marked path I wanted to spend the rest of my life walking, and with Jack at my side.
When we returned home, I definitely would find a psychologist or counselor or someone to tackle the things I’d spent untold energy trying to avoid dealing with for my entire adult life.
It wouldn’t be fair to him for me not to. He was patient, and loving, but me trauma dumping on him every time we turned around, no matter how much he assured me he was okay with it, was not okay. Damned sure wasn’t healthy.
The more I thought about my breakdown yesterday in class the more glaringly obvious it was to me how much work I’d put into burying and hiding and denying my inner child’s pain and fear.
Even more obvious in hindsight was the fact I’d pulled away any time a man showed an interest in me and I felt he completely had his shit together, while the ones I’d had doomed relationship attempts with were mildly narcissistic, or pathologically needy, or in some other way blatantly incompatible with me.
But I’d chosen to ignore those signs, explain them away, gaslight myself. Then, when I ended things—another unexpected revelation because I was always the one who ended it—I had the perfect excuse to tell myself and Lilah as to why it wasn’t meant to be.
Fuck. Me.
Another irony was that, before now, I’d always steered away from men I felt were dominant—not necessarily domineering—because part of me feared I wouldn’t be able to say no even if the situation wasn’t healthy.
Now I’d stumbled across a man who was dominant, a Dominant, and who seemed to be…
Well, perfect.
It scared me but that fear centered on myself and not him.
Because unlike any other relationship before Jack, I felt desperate not to fuck this up, not to drive him away.
Which also told me something.
Our first class today was a 101 rope class, which Jack had been through before but said he’d already planned to attend again even before our situation turned into a…
Well, into a situation. Because he wanted to attend the other classes with the basics fresh in his mind and he hadn’t taken much time to practice what he’d already learned during the last few weeks.
He told me I could wear anything I wanted, although close-fitting clothes were recommended, and full nudity was allowed in the class.
I opted for a sports bra and yoga shorts, which I wore my Flintstones T-shirt over for the trip upstairs.
There were eight other couples of various romantic pairings and ten singles.
The female instructor—who only introduced herself as Kayte and ambiguously referred to a background with extensive medical training—partnered up the singles with the caveat that they were free to swap partners if they wanted to, or if they wanted to be used as demo subjects for the class, they were welcomed to volunteer for that as well.
Around the room on the floor, at discreet distances from each other, were spaced clusters of four MMA mats with puzzle-piece edges stuck together and forming six-foot squares.
There were clean towels and paramedic scissors next to each square, and after Jack picked one and set his bag down next to it, I opted to put a towel under me so I didn’t stick to the mat.
Or leave a wet spot behind.
Yeeeah. Now that Jack and I had leveled up I seemed to have lost the ability to turn off my pussy. Every touch, every glance, even the way he arched his goddamned eyebrows at me sent a flood of moisture down there.
Frankly, I was shocked I hadn’t dehydrated myself yet.
Three of the female rope bottoms, two of them partnered and one not, opted to go fully nude while another two went topless, but I didn’t feel self-conscious shedding only my T-shirt because two other women kept theirs on, and one even wore full-length leggings.
Among the couples there were two female rope Tops, one tying a man and one tying another woman. I was glad to see a mix of people and not just a room full of male Tops and female rope bottoms.
Any nerves I might have had soon fled as the instructor’s first order of business was a thorough review of safety issues, including verifying every Top had their own cutting device, in addition to the provided safety scissors.
She talked about types of rope, why ties were tied the way they were, nerve locations and potential damage, and by the first break I realized Dr. Colefield was completely relaxed and enjoying listening to an obviously educated medical professional speak about risks that the average person was likely oblivious to.
When I remembered I wasn’t alone, I turned to find Jack smiling as he watched me, and my face instantly heated. “What?” I asked.
His smile widened and he leaned in to kiss me. “You’re adorable. I’m glad the instructor meets your standards, baby.”
“Was it that obvious?”
“Ooooh, yeah. And how you looked was probably the same way I looked the first time I took the class and realized it was more than a standard lecture. She is a medical doctor, by the way.”
“She is?” Currently, she was talking to another student and answering their question. “She didn’t introduce herself as one.”
“Because in her day job she’s deep in the closet. She’s an on-staff orthopedist for a professional hockey team back east, and the team owners are very conservative. That’s why she comes out here for this, so she doesn’t risk running into people she knows.”
“How do you know that?”
“Because I spoke with her after the first time I took this class. Told her I was a paramedic and how impressed I was with her thoroughness about safety. She opened up just enough to tell me that much about herself. I suspect her real first name isn’t ‘Kayte’ but the only reason I’m even telling you as much as I am is because you’re also a doctor and I know you won’t tell anyone.
Oh, and she’s the one who pegged me as a fireman just from how I handled my rope. ”
“Pegged?”
He laughed. “The metaphorical kind of pegging.”
The next part of class focused on the basics, single- and double-column ties, how to lay the rope properly when making multiple passes around limbs, and how to loop the rope around itself in various ways to change directions, and how to finish ties.
Which also surprised me because I’d figured it was simply about tying knots. Last night I hadn’t exactly been in a headspace to pay attention to anything but the orgasms.
“I have a lot to learn,” I whispered to Jack after we completed one exercise and I helped him coil the rope before starting the next one.
He smiled. “Want to know a secret?”
“Yeah?”
“So do I.”
He nuzzled my nose, which was quickly becoming my second-favorite thing behind forehead kisses. And the clit-sucker.
“And I’m not afraid to admit to you I’m far from an expert.”
“That makes me feel safer. I like it that you admit you don’t know everything.”
He shrugged. “That’s something else time and maturity taught me.
Anyone who doesn’t want to be with me simply because I admit my flaws is someone I know I could never be happy with.
” His gaze held mine. “Which is why I have zero problems when you open up to me. I’ll never hold it against you.
If we’re living, we’re always learning, always working on our flaws.
When we stop learning it means we’re dead. ”
I gasped in mock horror. “You think I have flaws?”
He snorted, struggling not to disrupt the class as I smiled. Then he leaned in and kissed me. “And I love that you’re able to laugh at yourself, baby. Because believe me, I’ll give you plenty to laugh at about me.”
Jack
I kept a close watch on Emmy as class resumed, looking for any hint of distress so I could whisk her out of there to privacy if she needed.
But she made me proud, throwing herself into the practical part of it once the first break ended and showing absolutely zero self-consciousness as we worked through the ties.
My first time through this class I’d been paired with a very nice older woman who wasn’t an expert rope bottom but she’d had more experience than I did. Her patience and gentle suggestions when I felt uncertain about what I was doing had done a lot to help my confidence.
Like any other skill it’s easy to lose it if you don’t practice. And other than tying my own ankles or legs—or a pillow—I’d had few chances to practice what I’d learned during my first series of classes here.
I knew from research there were a couple of kinky social groups in the Bozeman area but I was not at a place in my life where I felt comfortable seeking them out as a single man in a fairly visible profession.
Then there was the fact that when I trolled through social pages for the groups, the attendees skewed heavily toward young women barely of legal age, and that definitely wasn’t my jam.
Add in the fact I suspected they’d be attracted to me for my job—and my perceived income—and it wasn’t trouble I’d felt like courting.
A pleasant benefit of taking this class with Emmy was I could playfully cop feels and not worry about where my hands were because she leaned into my touch, eagerly wanting it, whereas during my first class, I went out of my way not to accidentally brush against my partner’s boobs or other intimate areas.
When it was time for the lunch break, Emmy sat between my legs, leaning back against me, holding my arms around her as she processed the sensations of her first chest harness. The others were already packing up but I didn’t make her move, savoring the gentle smile she wore.
“Fun?” I eventually asked, reluctant to interrupt her thoughts.
She happily sighed. “Yes, Sir. Very.” She tipped her head back. “I think we’ve found another ‘yes, please’ favorite thing for me.”
“Good.” I started to untangle myself from her to untie her but she clamped her hands around my wrists. I waited her out, watching her.
“Is this something you need?” she softly asked.
“Baby, I don’t ‘need’ any one activity. What I ‘need’ is your trust, and you letting go of control to me. The rest of it is sprinkles on the sundae.”
“I like sprinkles.”
I nuzzled her nose. “I know you do.”
“I really enjoyed last night.”
“Even the impact play?”
She nodded. “Yeah. It was… does it make sense that it felt even hotter being tied up?”
“I’m sure it does. Do I know the reasons why?
No. I would like to point out that you are far more worried about finding ‘things’ that I enjoy than I am.
It’s impossible for me to order you not to stress over this, but please take me at my word—this weekend is about having fun, exploring, and taking the first steps in what will hopefully be a lifelong journey together. ”
She nodded and released me so I could untie her.