Read Finding Their Balance Online

Authors: M.Q. Barber

Finding Their Balance (4 page)

Rocking forward, Kelly raised her heels and tapped her knees together. “I wanted more pain than I’d been getting, and he had a reputation for delivering. We negotiated limits and went straight into the scene.”

Jay sucked in a deep, slow breath.

Henry had to have known. Since Cal had gone after them in May, Emma wouldn’t have made this move without running her strategy past Henry. Their phones formed Plan B. Plan A—keeping Jay in the salon, his comfort zone, and showing him Cal’s pattern of victimization. Hard as hell when her body shouted at her to drag Jay to safety and her head compiled a list of reasons he meant everything.

“And it was good—the man does know how to handle a whip.” Running her hand through her hair, Kelly shook out the short tips. “But it was also more name-calling and snide remarks than I wanted. Contemptuous, like Julie said. You know.”

Several women nodded, and murmurs rolled through the room. Alice’s couch was an island of silence. Newcomers, her and Leah, with no experience to offer. Jay, harboring experience he didn’t altogether want to share.

Having met Cal made believing dominants defaulted to contempt easy. But Henry and Santa William stood as evidence in opposition. She’d been lucky, falling in with the right crowd. Hard to say which was more common.

“He stayed within the negotiated limits, barely.” Lips twisting, Kelly rolled her shoulders.

Julie rubbed her back.

Kelly shakily exhaled. “I might have played with him again except for his attitude.”

Bobbing, Jay wrapped his hand around her calf and dug in. He’d lived that exact moment. But by then, Cal had become a more experienced, more cunning predator.

“He released the scene, with no aftercare—”

“Red flag,” Julie muttered, and a dozen women mm-hmmed.

Kelly, nodding, smacked her foot on the floor. “And he had the nerve to say my ‘babyish limits’ curtailed his fun. My ass had beautiful bruises that lasted weeks. To tell me I needed to open myself to pain—after one play session?”

Her tightlipped headshake repeated around the circle.

Cal’d probably been a controlling, arrogant ass from birth. If only Jay hadn’t run afoul of him. If only he’d met Henry first. If only, if only, if only.

Eyes hard and jaw tight, Kelly scanned the room. “I was noncommittal to get out, but I’ve never gone near him again. He’ll do anything he thinks he can get away with.” As she landed on Julie, her gaze softened. “The charm’s a front.”

“I fell for the charm.” Julie fumbled for her seatmate and locked fingers. “About six years back.”

Again before Jay. The jackass had honed his skills, treating the club as his hunting ground.

Staring across the circle at Jay, Julie slipped her hand beneath her long hair and held the back of her neck. “Did he leave you scarred, too?”

Jay flinched, and she echoed him. The hush in the room could’ve been battering ram or blanket.

“He w—” Jay’s voice cracked. “He would’ve, I think, but someone stopped him.”

He’d gotten out physically unscarred, but he hadn’t escaped unharmed. Her flaring anger at the women who’d gone before and said nothing fizzled out. Somewhere, maybe not in this room, but somewhere, existed men and women who had encountered Cal after Jay.

“I didn’t have anyone around to stop him.” Julie smacked her forehead with the heel of her hand. “Stupid. Basic rule. Hindsight, right?”

Slinging her free arm around Julie, Kelly whispered words too low to carry.

Julie shook her head and clasped Kelly’s hand. “Three good sessions here, and I thought I knew him well enough to meet him somewhere else.”

Jay trembled. Cal might’ve issued him the same invitation.

Henry never would’ve found him.

“I thought I had a good long-term prospect with him. Great skills, lots of charm.” Rolling her eyes, Julie huffed and smacked her fist on the couch. “I had submissive honeymoon euphoria. I went to a private dungeon I didn’t know, and I found out he liked caning as much as he liked whipping, and I found out both leave scars when the wielder wants them to.”

Alice lurched, instinct, like throwing an arm in front of her sister when the truck stopped short.

Issuing a gentle Henry-size smile, Jay kissed the crook of her elbow.

She pried her fingers from his shoulder and ruffled his hair. Hell, she might write herself a prescription. Touching him calmed her as much as it did him, and Henry would absorb the unrest from both of them when he arrived. Every person present deserved the same loving, reciprocal partnership, whatever their tastes.

Head bent, Julie crossed her arms over her stomach. “I should’ve said something. If enough of us had, word would’ve gotten around.”

Hard-earned regret etched half a dozen faces.

Jay folded into a formal waiting pose, one Henry would be proud of. “I was lucky enough to meet someone who insisted I take proper care of myself.”

Henry would never disrespect Jay. Love him, guide him, command and coddle him, yeah, every damn day. Thank God for that.

“Back then I—” He rubbed his palms down his thighs and gripped his knees. “I think I wanted to be scarred, like I’d look at the marks and know I deserved them.” Raising his head, he scanned the room and stopped on Emma. “But he—Master Henry wouldn’t let me think that way. I wanted to please him so badly that I learned to say
no
for him.”

Emma smiled, brilliant and encouraging, every inch the guide Henry had promised.

“I’m glad I did. That was five years ago, and I—” Jay swayed and steadied himself. “I’ve only recently started being willing to deal with what happened.”

As the sunlight dimmed, silent stares cast a heavy, dark shroud around the circle.

“Don’t play with Cal. You’ll get hurt. The bad kind of hurt.” Jay shifted again, all pent-up energy in coltish legs. “That’s all I wanted to say.”

At home, she’d have invented a task to get him moving. Pouring out his discomfort in physical ways relieved his stress like nothing else. Here, he’d been forced to find another way. To choose to speak for himself.

Standing, Emma drew off the focused attention of two dozen women. “We all may make a difference in the attitudes and behaviors in this club by showing the honesty and courage Jay, Julie, and Kelly have shared.”

Jay sagged.

“I love you,” she whispered, and kissed his cheek under the pretext of straightening his tie. “You are everything to Henry and to me, you hear me? He’s gonna be so damn proud of his good boy.”

He burrowed into her hair and pulled a deep breath. “Best part of my life came outta the worst. Henry changed my world.”

He had. Still was. The whole afternoon, orchestrated from start to finish. He knew Emma well enough to trust she’d provide prods. He believed in Jay’s readiness to take this step. He trusted Alice to analyze on the spot and choose the right course for Jay however the tea played out.

Hands clasped singer-style, Emma performed as a soloist on stage. “The board is moving toward updating the club’s policies. Expanding into non-play hours for introductory and ethics classes. Training more monitors to respond to situations with the potential to escalate. Enforcing behavior guidelines more strictly for full voting members.”

Those points belonged to Henry’s agenda. Maybe Emma had taken proposals to the board while he worked behind the scenes.

“Speaking up will make a difference.”

“It’ll give subbies a reputation for being difficult, you mean.” The pencil-skirted woman who’d snapped at Julie over sadism offered Emma the same scorn. “Report, and everybody knows your business. The whispers go around, you get labeled a tattletale, told you’re blaming players unfairly, and suddenly nobody invites you to scene.”

Jay might’ve feared those things. Uncertain of the right move, unwilling to lose what he thought he had. She’d spent far too long stuck in the same silence trap, tiptoeing around him and Henry.

“I know, Iris.” Emma closed her eyes. “I know, and I’m sorry.” Her face hardened into stern lines. “We’re putting an end to it.” She scanned the circle, each woman—and man—briefly subject to her full attention. “Please come to me privately with concerns you feel didn’t warrant stopping a scene and reporting. I’ll increase supervision on members when I have multiple, independent accounts of line-crossing.”

Among the women, glances traveled and shoulders straightened. Even shy Leah uncurled from her tight ball.

“As submissives, we have the strength to protect each other. We have the duty to be mindful and maintain a safe space for all members.” Emma raised her voice to a rich, teacup-rattling roar. “When that isn’t the case, we will take steps no matter how well-respected or longstanding the member.” Muscles corded and angry, she seethed with tension through her neck and arms. “My husband cofounded this club. I will not tolerate abuse under this roof.”

The room ebbed and ticked over like an assembly line shifting from break time to high-speed output. Stories tumbled into the circle. Not just Cal stories, and not just bad ones. Women exchanged recommendations, warnings, and promises to take more care for each other.

Christ. If Emma had been that forceful a speaker on Jay’s behalf five years ago, the voices she’d been up against must’ve rated on a seismic scale. What side had her husband been on?

* * * *

With the last attendee departing down the grand staircase, Alice blew out a breath and sagged on her feet. “That was as emotionally exhausting as a good scene.”

Solid at her back, Jay draped his arms around her waist.

She wrapped her arms overtop. “Too bad it didn’t come with the euphoric buzz.”

He nodded, rubbing his cheek in her hair.

“We used to host two a month,” Emma said.

Whoops. Not quiet enough. She’d meant her comments for Jay.

“First Wednesday and third Saturday.” On her way toward them, Emma patted chair backs and straightened pillows. “Of course, Victor handled operations then, and I had more time to schedule a social calendar for submissives.” She carried herself with the same hostess poise she’d possessed at the start of tea, not a mahogany hair out of place. “The lifestyle can be isolating. Judging a dangerous situation grows difficult when the master’s commands define the new normal.”

“I had Jay’s example.” She gave silent thanks for his unwavering support. “And Henry never pushed me for anything I wasn’t willing to give.”

She’d clung to independence as a shield, thinking when the relationship sputtered out like every other, she’d decide the moment. Trying to end things the first night she’d safeworded, she’d staggered beneath pain and loss.

Emma shot her a sly smile. “Well, he only wanted everything from you.”

Telling her a month ago he loved her, Henry’d spoken as if he’d always known. Unquestionable. The foundational design element of his creation.

“And it only took months to get.” Sighing, Jay rattled her side to side. “You’re so stubborn.”

Henry hadn’t pressured her because he’d seen the string of quick breakups in her history. She’d been clinging to a failed model. A snort escaped her as she raised her hand to muffle it.

“Not stubborn.” She hadn’t understood what the new model could look like. Now she did. “Clueless. I had no idea what I was doing.”

As she leaned into Jay, he held her up without question.

“Victor used to take on novices to train.” Emma rubbed the ever-present pearls at her throat. “Years ago, before—” Closing her eyes, she canted her head and grimaced. “We invited them into our home. Usually one, sometimes two, living with us full-time.”

“You were okay with that?” Unfathomable. First Santa William stayed with a wife who despised his appetites, and now Emma had indulged her late husband’s desires for more conquests by bringing them home. Accepting Henry could, and did, love her and Jay with equal depth and ferocity had been hard enough—and she’d been the other woman. If she’d been Jay, only not Jay, because jealousy washed through him like water in a sieve, but if she’d been Jay and he’d been her, she’d sure as hell have felt slighted. “Your husband being with other people?”

“Oh, no, not at all.” Settling in a high-backed chair, Emma gestured them toward the facing couch. “The training relationships were nonsexual.”

She sat, and Jay flopped beside her. Reaching over the back, he snagged a tray of cookies from the console table. His discomfort must’ve fled with the departing crowd.

“The girls weren’t my co-submissives the way you and Jay are with each other.” Emma smiled at them and crossed her ankles. “When Henry first told me he’d taken on a new sub, I thought he meant like Victor and I used to do.”

“Like how?” Leaning back, she fought the desire to curl her feet up under her dress.

“Young women visiting the club in hopes of finding a long-term master often lack experience and refinement. We helped them understand what they wanted and taught them how to approach dominants and negotiate for those things.”

Munching, Jay snuggled into her side. More outings would be good for him. Reinforce his self-worth. She’d have to mention his courage to Henry.

“Victor commanded their obedience, and I provided a role model.” Eyes distant, Emma swayed from her plumb perch. Her face lit with soft curves. “When they were ready, we expanded their comfort zone with dominants whose integrity was beyond reproach. Many of the girls keep in touch with me.”

“Dominants with integrity, huh?” Giving in to Jay’s tray-waggling, Alice snatched a macaroon. “Bet I can name one.”

“Two, actually.” Emma laughed, light and graceful. “Victor helped Henry and William polish their skills. We had quite the happy household then.”

“They
lived
with you?” Jamming the cookie into her mouth rescued them both—her from a verbal faux-pas and the cookie from certain crumbling between her clenched fingers.

“No, no. Will had his harpy, poor boy, and Henry was a sought-after bachelor.”

Emma must’ve gotten Henry’s permission to talk openly. She’d handed out valuable lessons about Henry and his cultural circles. Even Emma’s handling of tea had been a lesson in how to conduct herself as a submissive.

“But they dined with us weekly, and Victor often oversaw their scenes. No matter how many girls stayed with us, I never went wanting for attention.” Joy melting into weighty lines, Emma plucked at her dress. “The house is quiet now.”

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