“It doesn’t matter. I knew a guy who won’t do hot wax again because one time, the guy who was topping him didn’t know what he was doing. He used the wrong kind of wax, it got too hot, and…” Devon rolled his hand.
I shuddered.
“He knows damn well a conscientious Dom would never, ever let that happen,” Devon went on. “But any time he even thinks about trying it again, his mind goes back to having blisters on his shoulder. So… he doesn’t do it anymore.”
“Do you think he’ll ever try it again?”
Devon’s half-shrugged. “Maybe? He’s been with his partner for a couple of years, and she’s been able to push some of his limits. Hell, for all I know, they do hot wax now. I don’t know. But the point is, that bad experience put him off for a long time, and if he decides he never wants to do it again, that’s valid.” He paused. “So if you never want to try bondage again, then no one should ever give you shit for it. And if you do? If you’re with someone you trust enough and you want to try it? Then go for it. You’re not going to lose your sub card because you have a hard limit.”
The words settled over me like a warm blanket.
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“Of course.” He studied me. “Has someone tried to push you to do it again?”
“Not…” I swept my tongue across my lips. “Not since my divorce, no.”
Devon’s teeth snapped shut. “Wait, did your ex try to push you?”
I considered how to answer that. “He didn’t try to force it or anything. But he kept insisting I should just try again.” I rolled my eyes and huffed sharply. “One night, I blocked a puck with my forearm. Lost feeling in my hand for a few minutes.”
Devon grimaced and shook out his own hand. I had no doubt he knew exactly how a stinger like that felt.
“I was down for the rest of the period, but by the end of intermission, I was fine. Sore as hell, but I could play again, you know?”
“Yep, I get that.” Then his expression darkened. “He… Tell me he didn’t use that to try to convince you to get tied up again.”
“He did. Like, I knew going back out on the ice that I could get hit like that again. Or worse, because God knew I’d had worse, and I kept playing hockey.”
“Because playing hockey was your job,” Devon muttered.
“And my passion. He thought it was fucked-up that I could take all these injuries on the ice and be pushing to get back out even before the trainers thought I was ready. But a couple of bad experiences in the bedroom, and I wasn’t willing to try again.”
“Tabarnak, what a dick.” Devon paused. “Er… I mean…”
“No, you’re not wrong.” I chuckled as I cut off another bite of lasagna. “He saw it as a sign that I didn’t care as much about our sex life as I did about hockey. So it, uh, it caused some issues.”
Devon muttered a few more Quebecois curses as I chewed. Then he asked, “Was he like that all the time? Or just about this?”
“Like what? What do you mean?”
“Weaponizing everything? Acting like everything you didwas a slight on him?” Devon made a face. “Because he kinda does sound like a dick.”
I sighed. “He… wasn’t always like that? Or maybe I just didn’t notice. I don’t know. But when it came to sex, he definitely was. It took me way too long to realize our sex life was about ninety-five percent what he wanted.” I thought about what I’d said. “Which… maybe that’s why we started inching toward submission. I just didn’t realize that was what it was.”
Devon furrowed his brow. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, I spent most of our sex life doing everything I could to please him. I got off on him getting off. When he wanted to try something, and I went with it, the thing that turned me on the most was how thrilled he’d be that I was game. And how much he’d enjoy it.”
Lips quirked, Devon nodded. “So a natural sub in the hands of a selfish asshole.”
“Pretty much.”
“How long were you married?”
“Eighteen years,” I whispered. “We started dating when I was seventeen, he was sixteen. Got married when I was twenty. We were each other’s firsts for everything—literally everything. Neither of us knew what we were doing, and there was a ton of pressure for us to be a shining example of a perfect couple.”
“Why would—oh. Right. Because you were the first out player and the first gay player to get married.”