At least, that was what I’d thought when I still planned to fall on my knees in a conference room and hand control over to her. She may have been my submissive, but I belong to her. I always have. A true dominant is only that because a submissive chooses to obey, I see that now. I belong to her, not the other way around.
At least I did.
“I realized that I have some things I need to work through,” I say, finally managing to break the silence. “I reacted badly—to so many things. And, I’m ashamed I may have blamed you for some of my own shortcomings.”
“Axel.”
I hold my hand up. “Please.” I release a long breath. “Please. You don’t have to let me finish, but it would mean a lot to me.”
She nods, and I smile.
“Maddox and Declan came to me a few days after I left your apartment. They helped me see that I needed to reevaluate my priorities. And I realized that I had too many scars that needed to be addressed. I’ve only had a few therapy sessions,” I continue, “but I’ve already learned so much about myself.”
I take a deep breath. Harper put so much trust in me, and I owe her the same respect. It won’t make up for what I did, but maybe the context will help her to move on.
“I had a rough childhood,” I say. “I didn’t know which direction my life would go in next, and I was always at the whims of others, my parents and their addictions, the landlords who would evict us, even the bullies who saw Maddox and me as easy targets. Somehow, it got even worse during foster care until we found ourselves with the Millers. At least when our parents were alive, I was able to count on Maddox being there, but whenever we were sent to new foster families, we never knew if we’d be together or separated.”
I closed my eyes, reminding myself that telling her was my decision. “It started so young that I just thought it was part of who I am. I had so little control over my own life that I held onto it tightly wherever I could. Sometimes, it was a treasured item, kept in my backpack instead of at home, because I never knew when we’d be evicted and lose everything again. When I got a little older and could pick some of the classes I wanted to take in school, I jumped at the opportunity. Others were overwhelmed with the chance to decide for themselves. But I might have cried with joy. It was a spot of something I controlled. Yes, the teachers still taught lessons and handed out assignments, but I chose which subjects to study.”
I don’t look at her, I just keep talking.
“Every time I was offered the chance to make a decision, to control my own destiny, I seized it. Sometimes, it meant being safe, living in apartments well below my budget, so that I never had to worry about being short at the end of the month and losing my home. Other times, it resulted in great leaps, like starting this company with Maddox and Declan, where none of us would ever be subject to the whims of a boss or corporation again. We work for our customers, people who we can decide not to do business with, if necessary. We decide which clients to take, and nobody can tell us otherwise.”
My hands shake, and I twiddle my thumbs.
“My therapist made me realize something,” I say softly. “My need for control is rooted in fear.”
Finally, I look up and meet her gaze.
“Part of me is scared that if I don’t seize full control every time it presents itself, I’ll be forced back into that world where things happened to me. And that meant I never left any room for anybody else’s desires or opinions. Because I can’t control other people, I needed to keep them at arm’s length. The only way I could reconcile my needs for both sex and control was at the club, where submissives would obey my commands.”
After several seconds of silence, I continue, “I’m a work in progress. I need to learn how to relinquish control and address my fears in a healthier way. So, for now, I’m staying away from the club. There are elements of the lifestyle I enjoy, but I need to learn how to have relationships that aren’t rooted in my dominance over my partner.”
I lean forward, finally resting my hands on the desk, my voice trembling. “I know that I need to change. And that’s as good a place as any to start.”
I tighten my fingers where they’re wound together. “I’m sorry, Harper. I was so focused on how much control I had in our relationship that when things hit a rough patch, I reacted badly. Instead of supporting you, I ran. I couldn’t control your reactions, and rather than talk to you, I retreated to my safe spaces, leaving you alone when you were at your most vulnerable. I don’t know if you can forgive me or not. I wanted to say that I’m sorry. I was horrible to you. I see that now, and I promise I’m going to change.”
I look down at my clasped hands, waiting, terrified of Harper’s response.
I hear the rustle of fabric and her footfalls as she rounds the desk. She pulls my chair back and spins it so that I’m facing her. I prepare myself for a slap across the face. It’s the least I deserve after hurting her as badly as I did. Then she’s there, in my line of sight. Not because she forced me to look at her, but because she’s on her knees before me.
The pose is one I’ve seen countless times before, but now there is nothing sexual about it. The trust and the obedience remain, but it’s different this time. I realize that before, at the club, what she always offered was her body.
This time, she’s offering herself.
Her head is bowed in a sign of deference, and I finally reach out to lift her chin. There are tears in her eyes, and I swipe one away with my thumb before it can make a track through her makeup.
“Harper?”
She gives me a weak smile. “You don’t need to change, Axel.”
I shake my head. “Yes, I do. It can’t always be about my needs or my desires.”
“But don’t you see, you’re going too far the other way now. You’re afraid that the only way to overcome your need for control is to give it up entirely. But there is a middle ground.”
Her eyes flick away for just a moment before returning to my face. “There’s nothing wrong with wanting control, Axel. It’s not wrong or bad. Same with the club. A submissive sets boundaries, which means you’ve already given them the control to declare things as off-limits. But within those criteria, they give you the freedom to do as you will. A submissive can reassert their control over their own experience at any time.”
I can see her fidgeting just at the edges of my vision.
“Axel, you relinquish control in small ways every day, and you just need to recognize them so that you learn not to fear the bigger moments. If what your submissive wanted didn’t matter at all, then you’d be a horrible person who violated them without consent. You give up control of your employees every day, allowing them to manage their own time and tasks rather than micromanaging them. You reassert control when needed, but you trust people to act within set parameters.”
She pauses. “You don’t need to change for me, but if you’re changing for yourself, then you can start by recognizing those ways that you already give up your control.”
Something about what she said strikes me deep. I don’t take control maliciously. If a submissive says no, then I move on. If they set boundaries, and I want to continue to play, then I abide by them. I trust my employees to get the job done, rather than needing to stare over their shoulder to make sure that every minute detail is to my liking.