The Training

her and knelt so we were eye level. Her eyes were deep and dark with pleasure.

“You amaze me,” I said. “Every time.” I kissed her softly. “Can you stand?”

She nodded and stood up.

“Come lie on the towels.” I took her arm. “They’re warm.”

Once she was situated, I washed her body with the washcloths and finished by wrapping her in more fluffy towels. She nearly hummed in pleasure.

“I’d ask if it was good for you, but I really don’t think I need to,” I teased. She responded with a low, sultry giggle. I brushed my lips against hers. “Are you tired?”

“Mmmm.” She closed her eyes. “I feel like a jellyfish. All rubbery.” She yawned. “Maybe a little tired.”

A little tired?

I stifled my laugh. She’d had maybe four hours of sleep. Probably less. A little tired, indeed.

“I want you to rest for the next few hours. Make yourself some lunch if you want. I’ll take care of myself.” I kissed her again. “You nap.”

After I made myself a sandwich and checked to make sure she was sleeping comfortably, I went into the living room and called Paul.

He picked up on the second ring. “Nathaniel?”

“Hey, Paul,” I replied.

“How’s it going with Abby?” he asked.

He knew how important this weekend was, knew how hard it would be for both Abby and me. I was fortunate to have a friend like him to talk with. I knew how lost I’d be if I didn’t have someone to talk to.

What about Abby?

“Oh, no,” I said as the realization struck me.

Who did Abby have to talk with?

“No one,” I mumbled.

She has no one.

“Nathaniel?” Paul said, worry replacing his previous easygoing tone. “Is everything okay with Abby?”

She had me and no one else. As her dom, did I really count? Who else would she go to? Felicia barely accepted our relationship. Things with her were easier, but I knew she didn’t approve of our lifestyle. Abby spoke frequently with Elaina, but while my best friend’s wife knew of our lifestyle, and accepted it, she wouldn’t be a good support person for a new submissive.

“Fucking hell.” I slumped against the chair. “Failed again.”

“Nathaniel,” Paul snapped, bringing me back to the issue at hand. “How’s Abby?”

“What?” I said, realizing I was still on the phone. “Abby? She’s sleeping.”

“Okay,” he said. “So tell me, how did you fail?”

“I was just thinking how nice it was to have you as a support person, someone to talk things over with, and how hard it would be without that.” I took a deep breath. “Abby doesn’t have anyone.” I squinted my eyes, remembering. “She had a dabbler friend who used to live in the area, but I don’t think they’re still in contact.”

“I see.”

“I mean, she has me. We talk.” I thought back to the library, how hard it still was to get her to speak freely while she wore my collar. “Sometimes.”

“But outside of you, she doesn’t have any friends in the lifestyle?” he asked. “Another submissive to talk with?”

“No, not that she’s mentioned.” She would have mentioned them, right?

“Have you thought about taking her to a party? Somewhere she could meet people?”

I had, actually. It was on my list to call a few community members once Jackson and Felicia’s wedding was over.

“Yes,” I said. “But we’ve got this wedding, and we just started back this weekend. I thought . . . Fuck.” No matter how busy we were, I should have made certain she had the support she needed.

“Remember what I told you when I visited?”

“Visited?” I asked. “Is that what you call it? You mean when you called me out for being a sorry lump of shit?”

“Yes, that.”

“You said a lot of things.” My face heated with shame at the reminder that Paul had had to leave his newborn son to save me from myself. “Which one in particular?”

“How I wanted the two of you to visit when you got back together.”

Okay, truthfully, I’d forgotten that bit. Likely as not, when he said it, I never thought Abby and I would get back together.

“I know Jackson’s getting married in two weeks,” he said. “But is there any way possible? Maybe next weekend?”

“Oh?” I asked, trying to work out the timeline in my head . . . It just might work. “Oh.”

“I’ll talk to Christine, see if her mom can watch Sam for a few hours on Saturday.” He stopped, thinking. “Talk to Abby. Send me your checklists; maybe we can play together. Or do you still not share your collared submissives?”

Share Abby?

I tried to imagine another man putting his hands on her. Another man sliding his fingers into her hair. Another man’s lips on hers.

Never.

“I don’t share,” I said in an almost growl.

“Pity,” he said. “The four of us—”

“Regardless,” I interrupted. “It’s a hard limit for Abby.” I knew sharing had never been a problem for Paul or Christine. I was fine with that. It just didn’t work for me.

“In that case, maybe we can play for the two of you?” he asked. “Maybe something Abby has listed as a soft limit? Christine gets off on being watched, and we both need some playroom time.”

I thought for a few seconds. “Sounds good. Let me talk with Abby.”

We spoke about the weekend so far.

“How did the punishments go?” he asked, when I brought up their necessity.

“Hard,” I answered honestly. “For both of us. She was upset, and seeing that upset me and . . .”

“You questioned whether you were doing the right thing,” he finished.

“I don’t remember it being as hard with the others.”

“Your previous submissives?” he asked.

“Right,” I said. “I don’t remember feeling this way.”

“I remember,” he said, a hint of tease in his voice.

“What?”

“When you called me after you punished Beth for the first time.”

“Beth?” I tried to remember. “That was ages ago.”

“And you were upset then, much as you are now,” he said. “Maybe even more.”

I wished I remembered. Beth seemed like such a long time ago, so very far removed from where I was now.

“Since you don’t remember the incident, you probably don’t remember what I told you,” he said.

“Hell, Paul,” I said. “Just get on with it.”

“It’s completely normal for you to have a hard time causing someone pain, even in the type of relationship you’re in,” he said. “If you found it easy, that’s when I’d be worried.”

“I know, but—” I started.

“No buts,” he said. “Most doms I know experience the same thing.”

“How did it go for you and Christine?” I asked. “On your first weekend after you started seeing each other romantically?”

“Christine and I were different from you and Abby,” he said. “We went into a twenty-four-hour, seven- days-a-week relationship.”