Brat and Master by Sindra van Yssel

tempted to deal with that in the shower, to soap himself up and come right then and there, but he decided not to. He was feeling more alive than he’d felt in years, and he wasn’t sure he wanted to take the edge off yet. He had hardly looked at a woman since Cheri. And now he’d done more than look. A part of him that had lain dormant was stirring. He wasn’t sure whether that was a good thing or not, but he knew it wouldn’t be put to sleep by jacking off in the shower.
    Wearing only a pair of loose flannel pants, he picked up his clothes from the bathroom floor to take them to the hamper. A card fluttered out. Amanda’s. He picked it up and looked at it. I should get one of these made. It was an obvious way to try to make further contact with potential partners. The world had changed from when he’d been active in the scene. It wasn’t just computers and such that had changed it, either. People were more accepting of alternative sexuality in general, although he didn’t harbor any illusions that tying a girl up and flogging her would ever become generally socially acceptable. He’d been in a dozen clubs and had never seen anything like the fire play that had been going on at Excess or Amanda’s “poi” floggers.
    I need an education. And I wouldn’t mind trying out a pair of those floggers, either. He fired up his computer and set the card next to it. Amanda might have some good suggestions for who was making the best floggers these days. He hadn’t bought one since he and Cheri started, back when they did more public play. They’d found what Cheri responded to, and he’d never seen any need to get anything new. In the end, BDSM was about the people, not the equipment. The toys were a means to an end. But still, he was curious to give some new things a try.
    He sat down and started searching. I should have finished out the evening at the club. He knew why he hadn’t. It hadn’t been that what was going on between him and Amanda had been wrong. It was that it was too right. He’d wanted to kiss her. To make love to her.
    He barely knew her.
    He shrugged after half a dozen Web sites and opened his e-mail. He typed a short note to Amanda, asking her the best place to find well-crafted floggers of the new-fangled variety. He reread his e-mail, trying to decide if it struck the right tone. Then he typed, Would you be interested in getting together for another scene? underneath his question. Of course she’d say no. If he’d wanted a repeat, he should have stuck around. But at least he could make her feel desired. He suspected she’d answer his question regardless. From what he’d seen at the demo, she was a person who simply enjoyed helping others.
    Cheri was like that, although it had gotten narrowed over time, until the only person she cared about helping was him. He didn’t want that to happen again. Some of what had attracted him to Cheri in the first place had gotten left behind. He felt guilty for thinking that because Cheri had been wonderful and utterly devoted. He’d loved giving her what she needed, and she’d given him plenty in return. But he couldn’t—and didn’t want to—replicate that. Maybe it’s better this time to play the field. To seek for bottoms, not slaves. Polyamory, rather than monogamy, although that meant so much more than playing with multiple people. It meant letting himself have emotions for them. Amanda had stirred something in him he hadn’t expected. He wasn’t falling in love. But he cared. Maybe I’m not capable of playing with someone without an emotional connection. Without love for the other person. If so, that wasn’t a bad thing, or at least not a weakness of character. If it means I get hurt, so be it. I’ll try to stop anyone else from getting hurt in the process.
    In any case, in the unlikely event Amanda says yes, I wouldn’t mind playing with her again. This time, if she offers more, I’ll take it. He hit Send.
    Then he walked over to his piano,