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That got his attention. He tossed the rag aside, and came to lean his elbows on the counter, studying me. “The deep end of the ocean, huh?”
“I thought I was well-versed in all this. I’ve read the pamphlets out of Chicago’s Hellfire Club, and the stuff from New York about trauma and consent. I’ve discussed the psychology of S&M with Jerome and his friends at length, and I’ve seen a lot of wild stuff go down with subs over the years…”
“You’ve been in the trenches.” Barry agreed. “That’s why I chose you.”
“I know. But Minty’s got some big fucking issues.” I paused, examining Barry’s face, not sure if he knew or not. “Things that might get in the way of us being a good fit. Withanyof this being a good fit, really.”
“Ah,” Barry said, straightening up and starting to clean the counter again. “The situation with his father.”
“You know about it?”
Barry nodded. “Violent toward him and his mom his whole life, and then when he was…” He glanced up at me, his expression grim. “You know the rest?”
We eyed each other until we both felt sure we both knew, and then began talking around it anyway. “I think so,” I said.
“He didn’t tell you about it?” Barry asked. “I thought you had an intake process for that kind of thing.”
“I asked the usual questions, yes, but he didn’t give the full picture.”
“Meaning?”
“I asked about a history of assault. He put down yes, but then went on to write that he’d deliberately sought it out and even asked for it, and I assumed—”
“Ah,” Barry said, shaking his finger at me. “That’s where you went wrong, isn’t it? Assuming anything. I’m surprised you made amistake like that. I never knew you were human enough to screw up that bad, Luke.”
I rolled my eyes and swallowed more beer, pushing down the guilt. It was true. I’d wanted to blame Minty at first, put it on him for ‘withholding’ relevant information. But the truth was I hadn’t followed up. I’d been…
What?
Too arrogant? Too worried about my own history? Too convinced that I knew what this kid needed and why? I’d assumed he carried around plenty of self-loathing—check—and a need to be humiliated—check—and had a taste for pain of all kinds—check.
But I hadn’t dug deeper than his answers on the form. I’d let myself assume his issues were the usual—being bullied, being queer, being positive, being powerless when he needed to be powerful.
And that was all true, especially the last, but thewayit was true was…
Christ.
I didn’t quite know how to handle something like that.
“You know how subs come in a few flavors?” I asked.
“Go on.” Barry waited for me to explain.
“Like some subs come into a scene because they’re wanting to experience a certain kind of stimulus—pain, bondage, whatever. That’s it. That’sallthey want. They trust me to give it to them, and I get off on that.”
“Uh-huh.”
“But other subs come into the scene seekingrelationship—that really beautiful interaction that can only happen between a Dom and a sub who are both feeding into each other’s needs and wants.”
Barry gazed steadily at me.
I scrubbed a hand over my face. “I assumed—no, Iknowthat Minty thinks he’s the first kind of sub. Here for the pain and nothing else. But…” I shook my head. “Given his circumstances, I don’t know if that’s even safe for him—”
“Safe for you either.”
“Right. ShouldItake on the emotional risk of applying the stimulus he wants when the fallout is so great and so unpredictable? Especially when we don’t have, and he doesn’t seem to want, the safety of an in-the-scene and out-of-the-scene relationship to balance it out.”
“So, you’re going to bail?” Barry asked, reading my mind like the asshole he was. “He’s too much for you?”
