“How are you liking this so far?”
“We do our check-ins on Saturdays.”
“That doesn’t mean I can’t—or won’t—check in other times too.”
He licks his bottom lip, his eyes focused on me. “I like it just fine.” His voice is raspy.
“Are you sure?”
“Very.” He nods. “I look forward to coming here.”
“Is that so?” He nods again. “Why is that?”
Shifting, he looks away, deciding on something before looking back at me. “My home life isn’t great. It’s stressful. Here, I can let go.”
“That is a perk of being my slave. Or a submissive in general.”
“Oh, I don’t think I’m a submissive…”
“Oh no? Because I’d say you’re a perfect submissive.”
His brow furrows, and he looks confused.
“There’s nothing wrong with that,” I add.
“I know. It’s just that… I take care of everything at home. I’m the one in charge—in control. All the time.”
“It’s usually those who are forced to be in control that need the release most.”
His brow furrows even deeper. “How do you mean?”
“Well, if you’re in control so much at home, in ways that aren’t your choice, but maybe obligation, it becomes overwhelming. Having a safe place to let go, where you can trust someone to take that control from you, it’s a release. It makes you feel better. Like I said… therapy.”
“I…” Blinking, his eyes go unfocused, then he says, “Yeah. That makes sense, I guess. When you explain it like that. But… then why are you okay being in control all the time?”
I love it when he asks questions; love that he wants to learn. His interest pleases me.
“When I am in control, I am composed. Stable. It keeps the… sharper parts of me contained. Order keeps me level. Chaos doesn’t. Having someone else to take care of, it gives me purpose… a reason. The unknown, the unpredictable…” I shake my head. “I don’t do well with that.” I smile fondly at him. “But I bet you thrive in chaos, and that’s the difference.”
He huffs a small laugh. “You’re right. I’m always putting out fires, and that’s when I’m doing my best.”
“I think you’re doing your best all the time. You give one hundred and ten percent,always. I see that in you.”
“I try.”
“Stand,” I tell him softly, and wait until he does. “Come around the back of the couch. I’d like a shoulder massage while I read to you.”
My gaze goes to his ass as he moves around to the back of me. I glance up at him, noting how he towers over me like this, a position we aren’t typically in.
“Let me guess,” I say. “You’ve never done this before.”
He holds out his hands, fingers spread. “Actually, I’m very good at this. I have two sisters, and they both say I have magic hands.”
I chuckle. “I’ll be the judge of that.”
I pick up the book and begin to read as his hands come down on my shoulders. I’ve touched him a lot, but there hasn’t been a time when his hands have been on me like this.
I’ve officially stated to him that training is over, but I am still moving slowly with him. I don’t want to push him too hard and then push him away. Besides, I haven’t done this in a while either, and I’m fine easing back into it. Things are good the way they are, there’s no need to rush. I’m doing what feels right for both of us.