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“Do I get a say in this?” she asked, looking rightfully perturbed. I’d taken her voice when we didn’t negotiate or discuss safewords, and I was doing it again now while trying to make things right.
I took a deep, fortifying breath. “Of course you do.” I wasn’t ready to be forgiven and move forward, but I knew she was right; she deserved a say. “Look, this night didn’t go how it should have gone, and that’s my fault. Why don’t we call it a night, and we can get together tomorrow and talk when we’ve both had a chance to process?”
“Okay, but does that mean you’re going to leave? I kind of don’t want to be alone right now.” Her vulnerability in the face of my mistakes touched a spot in my heart that hadn’t ever been touched. I couldn’t leave now, even if I wanted to. Skipping aftercare would just be another catastrophic misstep.
“No, I won’t leave until you’re ready. Why don’t you get yourself into something comfortable and we can relax. Any chance you have some wine on hand?”
“I do, but it’s nothing fancy.” She blushed, obviously afraid that my wine tastes were too sophisticated for her pocketbook.
“I don’t need fancy,” I assured her, “as long as it tastes like alcohol and not vinegar. You go change and I’ll find some glasses.”
Jasmine skittered off to her room and I took a deep breath, still angry at myself for my error. I’d made a rookie mistake, a grade- A fuck-up, and I knew better. I needed to talk to Bas and see if he thought this situation was salvageable, and pray Nyla didn’t serve me my ass on a platter, even though I deserved it. However, that was a problem for tomorrow, and I had to get Jasmine through the night.
I found the wine and wine glasses in the cabinet above the refrigerator and was pouring a glass of mass-market Pinot Grigio as Jasmine came into the kitchen. She wore an oversized t-shirt and a pair of black leggings, and her feet were bare. She’d pulled her hair back in a pony tail and washed the makeup from her face. I had a feeling I was seeing more of the real Jasmine in that moment than I’d ever seen before. As gorgeous as she’d looked all dressed up, this look was so much more… her, somehow.
Words escaped me for the moment, so I held the glass out to her. She took it with a small, shy smile.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome. Is there something you like to watch when you get some downtime?”
“Yeah, I’m a baking show junkie.”
“Sounds good to me.” I’d never actually watched a baking show, but I knew it didn’t matter what she put on. I wouldn’t be focused on the TV. I followed her back into the living room and sat on one side of the couch. I wanted her to be able to choose our closeness.
“I’ll just use my phone,” she mumbled when she seemed to get frustrated with her search for the television remote. Snagging her purse, she rummaged through it and came out with her phone. “There are like four remotes somewhere in this house.”
“They're easy to lose.” I tried to make light of the small issue of a misplaced remote, or four. It wasn’t surprising when I looked at the big picture, but she didn’t need me to point that out.
To my astonishment, when she joined me on the couch, she chose to sit close. The simple gesture made me feel slightly less like the biggest jackass that had ever lived. Despite my mistake, she really did seem okay. Like maybe I hadn’t completely scared the crap out of her and lost her trust. But maybe that was just because she didn’t know any better.
"Are you sure you don't want to be matched with someone else? I can talk to Bas—"
“Oh god. Please don’t. You don’t need to tell anyone anything. I’m fine with our pairing. Seriously, Bain. I get it, you made a mistake. But it’s okay. Really. Please just let it go.”
Her voice was tinged with desperation and her cheeks pinkened as if she was the one embarrassed. She quickly looked away, and I narrowed my eyes, watching her. Her body language was clear. She was embarrassed about my fuckup, but how did that make any sense at all? Still, I had to do as she asked and let it go—it was her choice if she wanted to continue with me, or move on to someone else, and she chose me.
She turned on the show—some campy baking competition with a world-renowned chef whose restaurant I had eaten at many times, and a bunch of over- achieving prodigy-in-the-kitchen children, and we sipped our wine. It wasn’t the over-priced, hoity-toity stuff I was used to, but I was more of a beer or whiskey man, anyway.
Maybe it was because it was Jasmine, or maybe it was because I wasn’t used to playing with people I hardly knew outside of a club setting, but I was more nervous and on edge than she seemed to be. Even though she was sitting next to me and I wasn’t typically an overly-needy Dom, I found myself needing some physical reassurance from her, and from my experience, usually a submissive craved cuddling or other forms of physical affection after a punishment. She didn’t seem to be that way, or if she was, she wasn’t showing it. Slowly, like a timid teenage boy with zero game, I reached my arm across the back of the couch behind her. Instantly, she leaned toward me, and I took it as the permission I needed and laid my arm around her shoulders.
Jasmine let out a deep, contented-sounding sigh before fully leaning into my embrace, and we stayed like that until we’d both finished our wine and an episode of her show. When the credits rolled, she got up from the couch and stretched.
“No one tells you how much you will miss stupid things like cuddling on the couch. Thank you, I needed that.” She paused and looked like she was searching for her words. “Bain, I… the crying… I know you feel bad because you didn’t give me a safeword or whatever, but even if you had, I wouldn’t have remembered to use it, so give yourself a break. I…” she paused and took a breath again. “The tears they weren’t about the spanking. I just…somehow you managed to release a lot of things I’d been holding in for a long time. I was thinking about Henry, and crying for the first time since right after it happened, and…it was just a lot. I probably needed that. So…please give yourself a break, and thank you.”
I softened. Emotional releases were a well-known occurrence in sessions, but I’d never been on either end of one. Her strong reaction made a lot more sense now, and I did feel less like a jackhole. “You’re welcome, and thank you for asking me to stay and drink wine and just… cuddle. It was a nice way to end the night. Tomorrow morning, I will be back and we can discuss a plan for getting you back on track. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay.” She looked a bit unsure, but I supposed that was normal. Fear of the unknown and all that. A little uncertainty wouldn’t kill her, and it would give me time to solidify a plan and get all my ducks in a row.
“I want you to get a good night's rest tonight. You don’t need to worry about anything except for that. Do you understand?”
“You’re sending me to bed. Yes, I understand,” she sassed.
“Well, I was at least trying to be nice about it.” I laughed as I stood to leave. “Don’t forget Sirs and Daddies with your responses. You don’t want to land yourself in trouble.”
She nibbled the side of her lip and nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good girl. I’ll see you tomorrow.”
