“French toast tomorrow?” Saul hung the dish towel to dry on the clothesline he’d strung from the truck to a nearby tree trunk.
His French toast addict. “Yes, Sir. I’d be happy to.”
“Awesome. So listen, we have to talk about your yoga practice.” Saul raised a hand and laughed. “That didn’t… it’s not ominous. Pull up a chair by the fire with me?”
His yoga practice? Huh.
“Yes, Sir. Would you like a blanket?” He was going to need one, for sure.
“Sure. Thanks.” Saul started moving their chairs closer to the fire.
He grabbed a couple of old blankets from the truck, along with the sticks he’d whittled to points earlier and the bag of marshmallows for later.
He settled in the chair, wrapped himself up, and forced himself to relax. Sir had said nothing ominous, right?
“Breathe boy, it’s good stuff, I swear. It’s just, like, timing and diligence and things.” Saul had set their chairs close and Sir reached for his hand.
Troy took it, rubbing slow circles on Saul’s knuckles with his thumb. “Diligence is something I happen to excel at.”
Practice, practice, practice.
“Well, good. Because I don’t always. Maybe you can help me then.” Saul smiled. “Okay. So here’s the thing. As a Dom, I think discipline for a sub is important. I think atonement is also important. Obviously, the traditional way these things are done is with rituals—some kind of devotion in the morning and stripes for missteps at night, something like that. Do you have experience with this? Did you have something in place with Arnie?”
“Not so much experience, Sir, but I’ve seen it; I understand it. My relationship with Arnie was… different.” He didn’t elaborate because Saul didn’t want to know, but his time with Arnie involved a lot of time on his knees and making sure no one suspected. “I did have a bag of stones with him. It was the same basic idea.”
God, he remembered that, so clear. Arnie had been a small man, birdlike, and he’d felt gangly and awkward kneeling naked on a shitty comforter. He’d been hard as nails, willing to accept anything if Arn would just love him.
Arn had held out a little leather bag to him and told him to take it.
“There are ten polished stones in there, boy. I take one for every fuck up. Give one back when you please me. You understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Remember, though, you ever make me empty this bag, we’re done. That’s it. You’re out.”
“Yes, Sir.” He hadn’t wanted to take the bag, but he had, and he’d never lost more than a half dozen stones.
He’d buried the stones with Arnie; the leather bag was in his dresser drawer, emptied.
He blinked and caught Saul’s eyes on him.
“Where’d you go? Tell me about the bag of stones.”
“I was a million miles away. I used to have a bag with stones in it. I lost one for every mistake and worked to get them back, so I get it.”
“For every mistake? Like, every day?” Saul was watching him closely.
“Yeah. I guess. I mean, I don’t know.” He’d never known exactly what the rules were with Arnie. They were... flexible.
Saul took his hand. “And how did you... earn them back?”
“Mostly blowjobs. Lots of blowjobs. Keeping my mouth shut when Arnie was driving. Uh... I just made sure to not piss him off, please him.” He grinned at Saul, holding on. “Don’t worry. I never ran out.”
“I—okay…” That didn’t seem to make Saul feel any better. “But what would have happened if you’d run out?”
“Everything was over.”
“You mean the scene?”
“I mean the... affair. I didn’t, though. I never once did. Not even close.” He was good. Genuinely.
Saul was silent long enough that it became uncomfortable, but finally gave his hand a squeeze. “This isn’t an affair. There’s nothing you could do that would just end this outright. You don’t have to earn anything to stay with me. I want you to know that.”
“I—” Fuck. Fuck, what could he say that wasn’t disrespectful to Arnie? He couldn’t handle that again. He’d seen how it could be with the other guys; he couldn’t go back. “You’re not Arnie.”
He got a serious nod, but then Saul smiled. “I’m not at all.” Saul took a deep breath and squeezed his hand. “All good?”
“Yes, Sir. I’m solid as a rock.” He stifled the laugh, because he was afraid if it got loose it would sound closer to hysteria than humor.
“I hope so. There’s no reason not to be.” Sir’s hand was strong and steady holding his. “Okay, so here’s where I need your help. This morning I had the idea that I would let you earn stripes today and then we’d talk about them and you’d take them for me tonight. That’s one pretty common way Doms deal with atonement. A lot of them call it punishment. But…”
Saul watched the fire for a breath or two. “It doesn’t feel good to me now that the day’s gone by. Nothing about you as a sub makes me think you’d respond positively to punishment. Also, you already have a morning and evening ritual, and I want to be respectful of that. So I’m trying to think how you can keep your ritual whole, and we can still incorporate affirmation and atonement into our day. You see what I’m getting at?”
“I think so?” He liked the words ‘our day’. He liked them a lot. “I’m not sure I’m any help, but I think I understand what you’re saying. We are trying to start each day whole, new, without yesterday’s problems following us.”
“Yes, that’s exactly it. I don’t want a bad day to make us worry the next won’t be a good one. And I want you to be able to atone and get tools to do better if I’m not satisfied. I don’t want that pain you need to be a negative thing, ever. It’s sacred. It’s not a punishment.” Saul snorted. “I’m rambling. Sorry. It just feels so important to me right now.”
“Don’t be sorry. Please.” He was forty-five years old and he’d been lonely for most of his life. He liked listening to Saul work things out. It made him feel like he was a part of something. “I appreciate it—both the not using pain as a punishment and that…” He swallowed hard, because it shouldn’t be weird that he needed, not after so long, but the cowboy in him insisted it might be fucked up. One way or the other, though, fucked or not, he wasn’t going to be a shrinking violet. Own it. That was what he told the younger subs. Own your shit. “…that you appreciate how much I need this—from the service to the pain to the sex to surrendering control.”
“I do And, well. I’m really grateful for it I guess because I don’t really want to know what I’d be if I hadn’t found an outlet for…” Saul glanced at his free hand, flipped it over, made a fist. “This. The rules and the rituals are important, so it stays purposeful and doesn’t become something wild.”
“I’ve spent twenty years learning that.” He hadn’t had someone to work with, but he wasn’t a stupid man.
“It’s kind of the big lesson, right?” Saul glanced at him and smiled. “Okay. I don’t think the morning will be an issue, I have an idea there, but what about at night? There’s all that breathing and focusing in your yoga practice right? Is there a way we could weave something in? I guess you’re not really supposed to talk though. Hm.”