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“See, that wasn’t the first time I witnessed something like that,” he continued. “It happened a little over a year ago.” He paused, gathering his thoughts. “To back up a little, I was with this girl, Cynthia, in a relationship that lasted about six months. At first, I was thrilled. Here, at last, was a woman who could push my dominant envelope. No matter how much I gave her, she wanted more. On top of that, she was attractive, had a successful career as a magazine editor and a wicked sense of humor. We dated hot and heavy for the first couple of months. There was the occasional red flag about her lack of limits, but I thought I could handle it. After all, I was the Dom, right? The one in control.”
Caelan grinned. “At least on the surface, right? Of course, as we both know, in the end, the sub holds all the cards because of that little thing called consent. Which is as it should be.”
“Agreed,” Dylan said. “But what do you do with a woman who consents to everything and still wants more?”
The question was rhetorical and Caelan took it as such, just nodding for Dylan to continue.
“Yeah, so,” Dylan went on. “She was deeply into the idea of a 24/7 Master/slave thing. I had reservations as that’s never really been my thing, but she convinced me to give it a try. She took a leave of absence from her job and moved in, determined to devote herself exclusively to serving me as a 24/7 submissive.”
“And that worked for you?”
Dylan snorted. “That’s the funny thing. My gut told me something was off. While I’ve always longed for an intense BDSM connection, I’d never wanted that kind of complete control. But she really seemed to need it, you know? And I wanted to make her happy, so…” He shrugged.
“So, you adapted in order to please her,” Caelan supplied.
“Yeah,” Dylan agreed. “For a while, anyway. But her lack of limits started to kind of freak me out. If I caned her until her ass and thighs were covered in welts, she’d beg for more, not happy until I made her bleed. She started refusing to sit on the furniture, even when she had express permission. She wouldn’t sleep beside me anymore, instead begging to be chained at the foot of the bed, blindfolded and gagged. I refused to gag her, but I went along with the rest because it seemed so important to her.”
“But you were increasingly unhappy.”
Dylan ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. It got to the point where I came home from work one day and found her locked in her cage, a ball gag in her mouth, her arms cuffed behind her back. She’d done that to herself and then pulled the cage door closed, activating the spring lock so she couldn’t get out on her own even if she wanted to. We had a big fight about it. She couldn’t seem to get it that her behavior had veered way off risk-aware consensual kink—that it was dangerous.”
“Sounds like a pretty severe case of topping from the bottom,” Caelan suggested.
“You got that right. I can’t believe we were together as long as we were. You know that thing they say about the boiling frog?”
“Where if you put them in a pot of water and slowly increase the temperature, they won’t realize what’s happening and they’ll allow themselves to be boiled to death?”
“Yeah. It was like that. If I’d seen she was that needy and intense when we’d first hooked up, I doubt I could have handled it. I would have ended things before it got so crazy. But all this stuff took place over several months, and I guess I just kept adapting to it, instead of following my gut and putting my foot down. She made me feel powerful. She tapped into some of my darkest fantasies. No matter what I wanted to do, she was up for it, only more so. No matter how far I was willing to go, she needed to go further.”
“I’m assuming you were forced to end the relationship?”
Dylan shook his head with a wry smile. “You’d think that, right? And I definitely should have. I’m sure I would have, sooner or later. But she saved me the trouble. She left me. She told me I wasn’t a true Master and that she’d find a real man to give her what she needed. We argued and I tried to tell her that she needed help—that she was engaging in behavior that could get her really hurt, or worse. She wasn’t having any of that. She left in a huff, after first smashing all my dishes and slashing my sheets.”
“Whoa. Sounds like you were well rid of her.”
“Yeah, I guess. At first, I was hurt, and then I was relieved. But I was also worried about her. In spite of all that shit she did, there was this really vulnerable, needy woman underneath. As I’m sure you know, there are a lot of clueless assholes out there who wouldn’t hesitate to take advantage of someone like that.”
