Chapter 7 #2
As happy as I was that he’d found new friends in Mclean, not much had come of it.
He came home talking about meeting up for lunch with Kingsley or Reid or Greer or KC or…
whatever. He was the first to sign up for a barbecue with the Mclean friends if my folks were watching the kids.
He went out and grabbed a beer with River and Reese.
Recently, Ash went out running with Colt some evenings.
He frequently found time to catch up with Penelope over coffee, because their offices were kinda close.
Nothing kinky whatsoever, though. Oh, wait. He’d joined a couple of primal events. As a dungeon monitor.
That didn’t fucking count.
Ash could be the best father in the world, but he was also a natural Daddy Dom. I just knew he’d thrive in such a dynamic. It was simmering right under the surface. I felt it almost every time we had sex. He wanted to control, nurture, and possess.
He let that part of him seep out, possibly unconsciously, in other aspects too. Especially in the early stages of our relationship, when he’d struggled to let me do things that he might consider “his responsibility.”
He was a protector. Every now and then, he called me his boy.
It was still, in his eyes, his job to drive the longest during our road trips so that I could get some rest. And before he’d started growing annoyed with my pushing him toward kink, he could jokingly say “Let Daddy fix that” if I struggled with something.
He definitely didn’t do it any longer. He knew I’d point it out and go all “shrink” on him. His words.
These seemingly insignificant aspects worked for me, because I loved having him possessive and protective of me.
But if I ever allowed any Dom-isms out in his presence, he’d look at me strangely or laugh and find it funny.
Luckily for him, I’d wanted to take his last name, but I could just imagine his reaction if I’d suggested we take mine.
I was going to say something.
The following Friday when Ash’s parents came up to visit, he and I got a night off to go to Mclean together, which was incredibly rare.
Most of the time, I went once a week for a rope session in the dojo, when the kids thought I was playing badminton with a friend, whereas Ash headed out there for occasional barbecue nights and setups for events.
That was when he was, according to the kids, working late.
So being able to go together while our house was turned into a sleepover zone with Grandma and Grandpa was nice.
Unless I was about to ruin the nice part.
“So, you’re just gonna set up for that fear-play event that takes place tomorrow?” I wondered.
“Yeah, I guess so. We’ll throw some steaks on the grill too.” He checked his side-view and switched lanes. “When all is said and done, Reese and I will run the course with two brats who aren’t participating tomorrow.”
Oh. That was news to me. “Which brats?”
He hummed. “Ivy and that new guy—Timothy, I think.”
I did know who that was. Timothy and Cam ventured up to the dojo sometimes for our sessions.
I wasn’t sure if Cam was accompanying Timothy to be nice to the new Little in town, or if they were friends, but neither of them had bondage at the top of the list of kinks, yet showed up more frequently than any of the other downstairs members.
For quite some time, I’d felt there was a rift between the various communities at Mclean.
Or perhaps rift was a strong word—rather, divide?
We had the founding members and their circle of friends with diverse kinks, which included Ash these days.
They were Sadists, primal players, Daddy Doms, switches, Masters, Littles, and brats.
We had the bondage community, where we rarely ventured outside Room 8, our rope dojo on the second floor.
We had the tight-knit leather community that booked one of the orgy rooms on the third floor for their get-togethers.
Every now and then, they shared the puppy-play course down by the forest line with our approximately five or six active members of the puppy-play community.
Other smaller groups included our foot fetishists, watersports players, and degradation sluts.
I didn’t know if that divide was simply natural and preferred among the members, though. The founders invited everyone when they arranged events, so it wasn’t as if anyone was ever excluded. But sure, sometimes it felt like we closed ourselves in too much.
“I’ve tied him up a few times,” I mentioned. “Timothy, I mean. He’s a Little too, I hear.”
Ash chuckled wryly. “No one could ever accuse you of being subtle.”
I looked over at him and gave his thigh a squeeze. “I’m not trying to be subtle.” Much, anyway. “If you’d like to test the waters and play with him, we could set up some boundaries…?”
He cleared his throat and shifted in his seat. “You know, I’m getting kinda tired of you pushing me to play with others.”
I frowned, wondering where the fuck that had come from. “Excuse me? When did I push you toward anyone?”
He rolled his eyes and switched lanes again.
Our exit was coming up. “I’m not stupid, Nate.
Every step on this kink trail is leading somewhere.
You keep focusing on those baby steps, but I see the end goal.
I’ll be sharing a dynamic with someone who isn’t you.
Are you lookin’ forward to that? Is there something you’re not telling me? ”
Whoa. That one caught me off guard. And he got it all fucking wrong. “You’re missing a key component of that end goal—that we’re supposed to be in this together. I don’t want you to have a relationship with someone else if I’m not a part of it.”
He took a deep breath and furrowed his brow. “We decided that rule was for playtime. We’ve never actually discussed what would happen if a Little entered our lives. So what, you wanna become a triad?”
“Of course not.” I wasn’t cut out for that. And our family was sacred, with room for only two parents. End of. “It doesn’t have to be all-or-nothing, does it? We could have a playtime dynamic with someone.”
“In what universe would a guy—a Little, no less—be comfortable sharing a playtime dynamic with a married couple and allow just enough feelings to get involved for the Daddy Dom to be satisfied, but every other aspect of their lives were closed off to him because the Daddy and the Sir or whatever are exclusive in terms of family and everyday life?”
I opened my mouth to respond, only to snap it shut and frown to myself.
My brain came to a screeching halt when I thought of the subs in my own circle of friends.
The vulnerability they felt sometimes, how unpredictable life was, how impossible it was to foresee the needs someone might have before or after playtime.
Setting up a structure for playtime was easy. You could say, between noon and four PM on Sunday, life was about dominance and submission. About Daddy and Little. It could be sexual or nonsexual, include other kinks or not. We’d negotiate and reach an understanding.
We’d experienced a pinch of that back in Boston.
After our night with our fellow American, the Marine—Kyle—the floodgates had opened.
At least for a while. We’d played with others at kink parties, subs, switches, a few brats…
But they had always been involved with primary partners, who’d engaged in the playtime too, and so we hadn’t had any play partners freaking out in the middle of the night because they were dropping or feeling out of sorts.
We’d obviously reached out to make sure everything was okay, but they’d had their primary Owners who felt protective of their own aftercare routines.
There was immediate aftercare, and there was the follow-up.
I’d witnessed firsthand how natural Ash was at the former.
After takedowns and beatings, he’d focused solely on the sub, and he hadn’t been satisfied with the aftercare until the sub was laughing again.
And then our work had been done. We’d gone home. The Owner had taken over.
“Say we meet someone,” Ash continued. “It’s great.
We grow to care for him. We get together a couple times a month.
Then one Tuesday, he calls and says he’s developed stronger feelings—for both of us, maybe just one of us.
Or he calls and tells us he’s not feeling okay.
Or he calls and wants to renegotiate. Or he calls to let us know he’s sick.
What then? How do I switch on and off my need to care for someone?
Do I run over to him quick to kiss him on the forehead and tuck him in between Hallie’s soccer practice and Dylan’s baseball?
Do you run over because you have a break in between patients?
Do we say, buck up, champ, we’ll see you on Friday? ”
I…had nothing.
“One last thing,” he said. “What if I catch feelings for him? I don’t have the faintest idea how the Daddy Dom in me would react if unleashed.
I don’t know my own boundaries or capabilities.
I once thought it would be hot to spank a boyfriend, and I ended up being a primal Sadist who gets off on chasing someone through a dark forest and then rapefucking his ass while holding a dull knife to his throat. ”
I swallowed hard as unease settled in my stomach like a jagged rock.
“Hurts to think about, doesn’t it?” he said. He shook his head. “I ain’t doin’ that to you, Nate. I’d rather walk away from kink altogether than risk hurting you.”
No… No, that was taking it too far, and I shook my head too.
And I grabbed his hand and squeezed it. “I’m not hurt, love.
I’m unsettled. But that doesn’t mean this is what I want.
You say you won’t risk hurting my feelings, and I’m saying I refuse to watch you go through life and keep that part of you on a leash.
I won’t fucking do it. Because I see risks too.
I see a risk of you growing resentful in the future.
Or maybe not even that. Maybe just…a bit of sadness or regret for not having explored such a big part of your desires.
” I paused and swallowed, and determination reentered my system.
“You spend every day looking out for our family. You never miss a game or a recital. You still show up at my office sometimes and surprise me with lunch and—”
“So do you,” he interjected.
“But I also have my passions,” I pointed out. “The moment I set foot in the dojo every week, I get to live out who I am in kink.”
“Do you?” He cocked his head. “Really. Do you get to do all of it? You never top anyone sexually. You tie them up.”
I did a bit more than that. “Fair, it’s nonsexual, but that’s not a requirement for my happiness.
It’s like a bisexual person settling down with one gender.
If it’s love, it’s love. I can be vers and still get all my enjoyment from bottoming for you.
Bondage for me is…” It was tough to put into words.
“It’s control, in short. It’s trust. It’s a power exchange in its own right.
In that moment, I am a Dom. I am fulfilled. ”
Ash exhaled and withdrew his hand to scrub it over his mouth and jaw.
“I’m not gonna quit, Ash,” I said resolutely. “It doesn’t have to be Timothy, but it needs to be someone. If you discover you have good chemistry with one of those brats you have running circles around you, we should act on it. Together. And…feelings and attachments—we’ll deal with it. Okay?”
He didn’t reply.
How long could this go on?
I guess what I’m doing is…I’m anchoring myself to our memories when I feel like you’re slipping away. I think of your tight hugs and the amount of comfort you can pack into a single kiss to my temple.
If soul mates are real, you’re mine.