Page 10 of Learning to Trust

"A few years ago, one of our friends, Carl, broke up with Benson, a man he played with on occasion. The guy had gotten it into his head they were in a relationship and said he wanted more, even though Carl had told him from the beginning he wasn't interested in anything serious. He refused to accept what Carl was saying, that it was infatuation he felt, not love. Carl eventually got through to him; his Sub was devastated and went home in tears. Carl had some friends keep an eye on him to make sure he was okay. They reported back that Benson had been going to work all week and seemed to be doing all right."

“I’m not seeing the reason behind your panic.”

“Benson’s sister drove to his home on Saturday morning because she was worried about him after a conversation they’d had the night before. She found him naked and hanging from a rafter in the garage.”

“Fuck. I broke up with Tristan last Saturday and have been at work all week like nothing happened. You thought—”

"I've heard your car coming and going all week, so I knew you were alive, but when I hadn't heard you moving about this morning, I panicked."

"I've been upset, and it's been a week I would rather forget, but I'd never take my own life."

We both finished our coffee and something Andrew had said started me wondering. "You said Carl played with Benson; what does that mean?"

Andrew paled slightly.

"Does it have something to do with the lifestyle that you and your friends mentioned last week?" After thinking about what Andrew and the others had said about how they lived, I knew I’d been right in my thinking.

In the few minutes of spare time I'd had during the week, I'd used the opportunity to look up information on BDSM, convinced that was what they had been speaking about last Saturday. I didn't profess to have a clue about most of it, but reading some of the available information gave me an insight into Andrew's behavior. The tone he had used on me the previous week and the way he ordered me to do his bidding without question now all made sense. Andrew was most certainly a Dom. I was also convinced, with my passive temperament, that I was a Sub should I choose to become involved in the lifestyle.

Andrew raised an eyebrow. “What do you know about BDSM?”

"I'm gay, so of course I've heard it come up in conversation now and again, but it was only after what your friends said last week that I became interested."

“You don’t have to be gay to be part of the community.”

“I know. During what little spare time I had during the week, I read a little about what it involves. Are you and your friends members of a club?”

"Yes, we are—Twenty-Six in New York. We're not into public display, so we play in private rooms, sometimes with strangers. If we have a Sub we trust and see regularly; we bring them to the playrooms in our homes. I packed up everything from the room in my apartment and will set it up in one of the guest rooms now I'm here."

"Do you have a regular Sub? How do you find one?"

Andrew tilted his head to the side. “You’re assuming I’m a Dom?”

“Am I wrong?”

"No, but why would you assume I'm not a Sub?"

“I worked it out when I thought back to last Saturday, the tone in your voice and the way you ordered me to do things.”

"Hmm, I guess it is pretty obvious. In answer to your questions—no, I don't have a regular Sub and haven't had one for eight years. I have a few that I play with at the club, but since my last regular, Mark, wanted something more serious, I've been a little wary about seeing anyone too often and taking them home."

"Will you make me your Sub?"

Shock was written all over Andrew’s face. “Why the fuck would someone like you want to give control over to someone else?”

Tears burned behind my eyes. "I'm tired, Andrew. I don't get a minute's peace with so many people wanting me to make decisions. I'm being pulled in a dozen different directions. I want some time when I can hand the decisions for my life to someone else. A time when everything goes away, and I don't have to think. From the little I've read, a Dom would protect me and bring order to my life."

“David—”

"You said it's not unusual for you to play with a stranger, and at least you know me a little. I'd be willing to join the club and do whatever you say." A fat tear rolled down my cheek. Why did I sound so weak and desperate?

Andrew sat silently studying me for a few moments. "If we do this, you obey everything I say unless it's something that you're not comfortable doing. We'll discuss your different limits, and you'll need a safe word—"

“Monti.”

“Who is Monti?”

“Not who—what. It’s a new game I’ve developed and am about to release.”