a Dom to hand over those reins… Why wouldn’t you feel conflicted about it?”
Well, shit. When he laid it out like that, it did make sense.
I shifted in the chair, tapping my fingers faster now. “Am I making a mistake, though? Letting someone else in?”
“I don’t think so.” Max shook his head. “You’re not a sadist, Will. Not really. You’re a service top making sure your submissive has what he needs while still respecting your own needs. If you tried to hurt him the way he needs to be hurt—the way I could hurt a masochist if they wanted it—you’d be doing harm to yourself and to your relationship with Aaron.” He studied me. “Does it bother you to see Aaron in the kind of pain he needs?”
I thought about it just as I had before on multiple occasions, and as always, I shook my head. “No. I just can’t do it myself. Not even when I want to give him what he needs. I have this… I don’t know. A mental block when it comes to hurting someone that much. Especially hurting Aaron that much.”
Max was nodding as I spoke. “Like I said—you’re not a sadist. Are you’re worried you’re failing your submissive? Or that you’re losing control as the Dom?”
“Both, I guess? I…” I chewed my lip, staring at the desk between us for a few seconds before I blurted out, “I’m worried about what happens after Kelly.”
Max sat up a little. “After him?”
“Yeah. Let’s face it—whatever we’re doing with him, it’s not forever. He’s a play partner. Friends with benefits at most. Sooner or later, he’s going to move on.” I swallowed. “So what happens then?”
“With you and Aaron?”
I nodded. “Prior to putting out feelers and finding Kelly, we were struggling because Aaron had needs I couldn’t meet. What happens when he’s been getting those needs met for a few weeks, or a few months, or, hell, a few years, and then he isn’t anymore?”
Max grimaced faintly. “That…could get complicated. On the other hand, is it possible that after Aaron has had that kind of pain for a while, he’ll realize he doesn’t need it as much?”
That hadn’t occurred to me. “Do you think… Do you really think that’s possible?”
“Why not?” Max shrugged. “Most masochists I’ve known don’t have static needs. Sometimes what they need is more intense. Sometimes it’s less. In the moment, it always seems like whatever they need is what they will always need, but a few weeks or months down the line, it might be something entirely different. That’s why a conscientious Dom is so important—to adapt to those changing needs.”
“Hmm. True. And this is the first time in twenty years he’s needed pain like this.”
Max nodded. “Exactly. So it might be a temporary thing. It might not be.”
“So what do I do?” I shifted again and started tapping the other armrest instead. “We haven’t even started pushing Aaron’s limits yet, but… I don’t know. Do we stop now before we get in over our heads? Or do we let this thing go on and see what happens? I mean, what if Aaron really does need it, but Kelly doesn’t stick around and we can’t find another sadist who’s also a submissive? Or if…” I exhaled. “If it goes to shit in any number of ways I probably haven’t even thought of yet?
He fell silent for a moment. A long moment. Probably under thirty seconds, but as wound up as I was, every second with that question hanging in the air was painfully long for me.
Finally, Max met my gaze, gray eyes full of sincerity. “You know as well as I do that kink means trust and communication. A lot of trust and communication. Right now, the best the three of you can do is communicate as much as possible, and trust both of them to be open with you. Talk about things before they become problems, and adapt as you go.”
I nodded slowly. There really wasn’t much else we could do, was there?
Something on Max’s desk pinged, and he picked up his phone. Scowling, he shut off an alarm, then looked at me as he started to get up. “I need to go to my next class.”
“Right. Right.” I got up. “Thanks for the talk. I really appreciate it.”
He smiled that smile that made most of campus go gooey-eyed. “Any time.”
We walked out together. He was taller than me—a good six-foot to my five-nine-ish—but we both walked about the same speed. That,