“They can be.”
“I understand.”
“Relationships, especially of a D/s nature, can be demanding.”
“You aren’t wrong,” I agree.
I like that we’re talking casually about this, that we’re openly discussing the world of BDSM like it’s not the most important thing either one of us is currently dealing with. I mean, we’re both obviously interested in the scene since we’re kind of in one right now, but I like that we’re able to sit and just talk about how things are working or not working.
He’s right.
Being in any sort of relationship is hard.
A BDSM relationship, however, can be downright impossible, especially if you aren’t careful. It takes a special sort of person to love a Dominant or a submissive, and that type of person isn’t always the most understanding or the most kind. Finding someone you can relate to, that you can trust, can be hard.
“It’s not that I don’t want a relationship,” he says.
“I understand.”
“My job keeps me quite busy,” he says, and he looks up at me with a sad sort of smile. “And when I’m not working, I…well, this is just perfect,” he says. He gestures toward the bath and motions for me to come over. I do as he says and Peter carefully helps me climb into the tub. I love how warm the water is and how high the bubbles go. Laughing, I pop a couple of them.
“I’m glad you like this,” he tells me.
“I do.”
“Do you often take baths at home?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I don’t have a tub.”
My apartment only has a shower. It’s a little weird to admit, but it’s the truth. Maybe he’ll think I’m strange for not having a large bathroom, but I can’t really find it in me to care too much about that right now. Right now, all I have to do is listen to him.
All I have to do is please him.
“Well,” he says. “Then tonight should be quite the treat.”
He uses a small cup to pour hot water over my body. I lean back as he washes my hair, rinses it out, and then conditions it. This pampering makes me wildly uncomfortable, but at the same time, it feels good.
Right.
Wonderful.
I shouldn’t be enjoying it nearly as much as I am. I shouldn’t be loving the way he’s touching me, caressing me, spoiling me.
But I am.
“Spread your legs,” he murmurs.
“I can wash there myself,” I say.
He raises an eyebrow, but I double down. Taking a bath is one thing. Having him clean me…there…well, that’s another thing entirely.
I reach my hand out for the washcloth.
“I believe we have an agreement for this evening, love,” he says. “Are you trying to get a punishment so early in the night?”