All at once, Jack dropped the comedy routine. “Hey, it’s me, Hayden. Your best bro. Why’re you sitting alone in here looking miserable, instead of tying up some lucky pleasure sub?”
Hayden sighed. “Okay. If it’ll stop the third degree, I’ll tell you.”
“Spill.”
“Well, you know I’ve been seeing this woman from work—the one I brought to the holiday party last month. The newbie, as you called her.”
He paused, gritting his teeth as he waited for Jack’s I-told-you-so about getting involved with someone who was only BDSM-curious. But, to his relief, Jack only nodded. “And…?”
“So, we’ve really only been together-together a couple of weeks, which is crazy when I think about it. I feel like I’ve known her forever—like we’re these kindred spirits who were destined to be together. All that corny crap.” He snorted.
Jack grinned. “Trust me. I know. So what’s the problem?”
Rachel appeared silently beside them, tray in hand. They waited until she’d placed Jack’s order on the side table near his elbow and then melted discreetly away before resuming their conversation.
As Jack munched on kettle chips, Hayden told the story of the catapulting trajectory of his developing BDSM relationship with Dahlia. He began haltingly, but it was a relief to say it all out loud to someone he trusted. Eventually, he stopped trying to edit himself, and just poured out the story.
“Here’s the really stupid thing,” he said with chagrin. “I didn’t follow my own advice—or yours, for that matter. It’s always a dick move to get involved with a newbie, no matter how curious she might be.”
“Hey, stop beating yourself up. You know what they say—the heart isn’t always the smartest organ, but it’s definitely the most honest. You want my take on this?”
“Sure,” Hayden agreed.
“Okay. We’ve always been straight with each other, so I’m just going to lay it out there. From what you’re telling me, Dahlia isn’t the problem here. You are.”
“That’s what I’m saying,” Hayden replied, exasperated. “I got involved with a basically vanilla girl, thinking I would be the one to change her—to mold her into my perfect 24/7 slave girl. I got so wrapped up in what we were doing that I assigned qualities to her she clearly doesn’t possess.”
“You know what I think?” Jack asked.
“Tell me.”
“To me it sounds more like you forgot a few of the basics. The Masters Club is a great place to enact your wildest fantasies. But even though the D/s here is real, it’s not real life. Actually living with someone and sharing your life involves more than just whips and chains. There are work schedules to juggle, bills to pay, errands to run, obligations of all kinds that intrude on the fun stuff. You’re so used to the fully trained pleasure subs and service slaves here at the club that you’ve lost sight of what a genuine D/s relationship entails, and the broader relationship that goes along with it.”
“I guess,” Hayden said grudgingly.
“Let me ask you this,” Jack persisted. “What’s the prime directive of any BDSM relationship?”
When Hayden didn’t answer, Jack supplied, “Communication. From what I’m hearing, you failed to tap into what Dahlia was actually feeling. It’s clear from what you’ve told me that she must have been feeling very vulnerable. When a sub gets close to her limits, or has moved past them, it’s natural that they feel overwhelmed. It’s your responsibility as her Dom to figure out where things went wrong. It’s your job to not only reassure her, but to make sure you don’t repeat your mistakes.”
“I know, I know,” Hayden admitted, unable to control his aggrieved tone. “And I tried to do that after she used her safeword. I wanted her to stay so we could talk it through, but she refused.”
“What did she say exactly? Did she say, it’s over? We’re done? No. She said she needed a timeout. So you need to respect that.”
When Hayden started to protest, Jack raised a hand. “No, listen. I don’t mean you just ignore her or whatever. But accept that she needs a timeout. From you. Be patient. From what you’re telling me, things have moved awfully fast in a very short time. Maybe a break is a good thing for you both.”
“Maybe,” Hayden said dubiously.
“Hey there.”
Both men looked up to see Cameron and Jess approaching them. They were dressed in scene clothing—Cameron in black leather pants and a black knit top, Jess in a red Spandex string bikini that complemented her willowy figure, Cameron’s collar in place around her neck.
They exchanged greetings, Cameron explaining they’d arrived early to get in some time in the water submersion tank before the dungeon got too busy.
“Are we interrupting something?” Cameron added belatedly. “You guys look pretty serious.”
“No,” Hayden lied. “It’s fine. Join us.”
Cameron sat down in a chair across from them. Jess lowered herself gracefully to a floor cushion at his side.