One week later

I’d left Diana at the loft with instructions to finger herself for five minutes every hour, but not come. No matter where she was—the store, the street, the office—she had to find a private place and think of me while she touched herself.

The Greens was packed for a weekday. I nodded at the maître d and walked right up to Charlie’s table. He was sitting with a sub I didn’t recognize. She was in her twenties with wavy brown hair spilling over her shoulders. Her posture was off, and she looked nervous with her skirt around her waist and her hands flat on the table.

I sat across from her.

“Hello to you too, mate,” Charlie said.

“I have to talk to you.”

“Of course you do.” He didn’t take his eyes off the sub. “Scarlett, open your legs and say hello to Adam. You’ll address him as ‘sir.’”

She shifted. I couldn’t see under the table, but I assumed she was spreading her knees.

“Good afternoon, sir.”

“You staying for lunch?” Charlie asked.

“Nah. I came to thank you.”

“For?”

“Giving her that card. Insolent.”

“I thought you’d try to kill me.”

“I almost did, but I’ve heard about that cane.”

He smiled and yanked the handle off the cane halfway, until the silver blade was visible. “That cane?”

“Yeah. I’d have to disarm you then kill you. It’s way too much trouble.”

“You drove all the way from Montauk to tell me she loved you. You looked like a man who’d found a seam of gold. Then you turned into a massive twat. I should have put the knife on you.”

He had been happy. He’d practically handed me a cigar. When I told him I thought we could do it without being part of the community, that I could keep her safe from others seeing her submission, he’d agreed it was possible. Doable. Others had done it, so could we. I’d sped back to Montauk like a man on fire, only to find the kinky community had already infiltrated our relationship.

“Scarlett, sweetheart,” Charlie addressed the sub, “pick up your shirt. Show me those lovely tits. Let everyone see how hard your nipples are.”

Scarlett’s sharp breath rolled with arousal and shame.

“Then put both your hands back on the table for sixty seconds. Then use your right hand to touch yourself and be very quiet about it. Understood?”

“Yes, sir.” She grabbed the edge of her shirt.

I didn’t watch her finish. I didn’t want to see her tits. My exposure to other women was going to have to be dealt with.

“Good girl.” His last word drifted into the glass ceiling and a smile crossed his face.

I followed his gaze to the door. Serena was walking through the tables where people could only fit single file. This was where subs trailed Doms by three paces. She was only one step ahead of Stefan, who held her hand behind her.

Stefan saw us and tugged on Serena’s hand, then he whispered in her ear when she stopped. They both looked our way.

There was something different about her. She was dressed the same, in a spring-yellow polo and black slacks. Her heels were sensible and didn’t trip her up. Her hair was up in a twist and the bangs were pushed back. When she smiled and waved at us, the nature of the change became obvious.

“She did it,” I said.

“Apparently topping from the top is better than topping from the bottom.”

“What about Stefan?”

“He’s not going to change.” Charlie waved them over. “They’re going to try sharing subs. Scarlett’s about to try it. Aren’t you, Scarlett?”

Scarlett nodded, though her face was scrunched in pre-orgasm tension.

“Hold that thought,” Charlie said to her. “Until you’re told to let go.”

Serena walked as if marking territory. Surveyed the room as if it were her property. Took stock of Scarlett as if she could own her any time. Stefan looked like a proud parent. We greeted each other with kisses and handshakes. Serena kissed me quickly on each cheek.

“Hello,” she said, trying Dominant confidence on for size. She was about to sit at a table with her three Masters, as a Mistress. The difficulty only showed for a second.

“Nice to see you, Mistress.”

Stefan held the chair out for Serena. “So,” he said, “you’ve come to meet Scarlett?”

“No,” I replied, pushing in my chair. “I’m leaving. It’s been fun. Nice to meet you, Scarlett. Don’t boss these two around too much.”

Scarlett’s face twisted in strain. “Okay. Yes. Sir.”

“Will I see you in the club?” Serena asked, posture straight and commanding. Had that always been there? No, I was sure it hadn’t been. People could change. They did it all the time.

“I don’t know.”

We said another quick good-bye, and I walked to the door. Turning for a second, I saw Serena whispering in Scarlett’s ear while Stefan and Charlie conducted business as usual.

I was about to get in the car when Serena caught me outside.

“Adam, are you… back there, you looked unsure.”

“I’m not.”

“Really? This doesn’t bother you?”

My approval was important to her. It was no more than that, and no less.

I hadn’t realized the extent of her hurt. She’d been nineteen, new to the scene, sheltered, a virgin, and as defenseless a sub as I’d ever handled. I’d been reckless. I knew enough about her to know what would make her vulnerable, and I’d exploited her need for acceptance and her desire to please the way I’d exploited those desires in any sub. For pleasure, pain, dominance. But she was new. She’d needed more care. She’d chosen me. She’d chased me. She’d topped from under Charlie and under me, and we’d let her hurt herself through us.

“Yes. Diana’s waiting. I have to go.”

She seemed relieved for a second, then she straightened up to a Dominant posture that would eventually become a habit. “Say hi for me.”

“I will.”

She went back inside, and I hurried to Diana. She was my chance to right old wrongs and turn mistakes into successes. She was my chance to win in a way that was real and permanent. Every minute without her was empty. Every minute wondering if I could spend eternity by her side was meaningless. A life without her was a life wasted.