The new contract went into effect the following day because there was no reason for a delay. It felt like we were rushing in, but so much of it was activities we had been doing all along. Throughout the work day, in the back of my mind though, was the question of how to make kneeling for Seth look natural. Would I say something? Was there a certain position he wanted? I didn’t know how to approach it.
            I walked in the door to find him exiting the kitchen with a glass of water. “Are you early, or did I lose track of time?” he asked.
            “I think you lost track of time,” I said with a smile. “I should change though – be right back.”
            Rushing out of the room, I found I had even more questions than I had previously realized, and dawdled as long as possible. Finally, even I couldn’t procrastinate any longer.
            Our couch served as a divider between the living area and the rest of the apartment. The back of it faced the short hallway that led to the bedrooms and bath, and Seth leaned against it while he waited for me.
            Once I had stopped being afraid of him – which had mostly happened sometime in the middle of our first trip through Nebraska – I had often been struck by how sexy he could be while doing very little. The confidence of his stance, his self-assuredness, were as attractive as his physical self.
            “Come with me,” he said and started for the other side of the couch.
            I trailed closely behind while Seth sat down and indicated a space on the floor between his legs. The move to my knees felt awkward, and I was sure I was doing something wrong. Lowering my eyes felt right, but I found myself staring at his crotch. Not necessarily a bad thing, but probably not the goal, so I glanced down at the floor where I found crumbs the vacuum had missed. Goddammit.
            Looking up, however, I found eyes that were … pleased. It wasn’t an expression I had seen often from Seth, and it was instantly addicting. All my questions, all my anxiety and doubt, it all vanished.
            “What’s the first rule on your list?” he asked.
            A soft sigh escaped my lips as if he had caressed me. My demeanor softened, and my entire focus became the space we occupied. “To obey you, Sir,” I replied.
            “And what’s my rule?” he asked.
            Oh god, he hadn’t been kidding about how serious this one was for him. He’d left it handwritten in his messy scrawl on the paper we had tacked to the side of the refrigerator rather than have me type it out. Somehow, this had made it more meaningful for me already. They weren’t cold, impersonal letters mass produced on ordinary copy paper. They were put there, by him, as a reminder to both of us.
            “To guide but not harm me,” I said.
            “Excellent,” Seth said. Then he allowed himself an extra moment to let his eyes wash over me. From someone else, the expression might have been lecherous or predatory. Instead, he simply seemed to appreciate the sight. “You can go.”
            The mood was broken – for me, at least – when I struggled to push myself back up. It wasn’t the graceful transition I had pictured in my fantasies. I hoped that making us dinner would help. “That’s going to get less weird at some point, right?” I asked as I headed for the kitchen.
            “That’s the goal,” he replied.
            “It feels like forever since I’ve done that for someone,” I admitted.
            Seth joined me, hovering in the doorway of the kitchen, just out of the way. His hands were in his pockets, and he looked almost sheepish. “For what it’s worth, I’ve never had anyone do that for me.”
            I raised my eyebrows at him in shock. “I find it hard to believe that you’ve never had a woman on her knees in front of you.”
            “Not like this,” he said somberly.
            Whether that was because I wanted to be there, the reasons for my being there, or something else was unclear. Regardless, Seth was eager to move on.
            “How was the start of your second week?” he asked.
            “Not bad,” I replied as I cut chicken breasts into cubes. “I think I’m getting the hang of it. At least I know where things are now. How about you? How was your day?”
            “Good,” he said. “Work is coming in more steadily. I think a couple of the contracts I expected are going to come through. I have to say though, it’s still a little weird to be – well, stuck behind a desk, so to speak.”
            Despite his background, the transition to full-time hacking work – even if it was ethical – had seemed a natural one. From the outside, that is. Otherwise, his reply inspired so many questions, none of which would be easy to ask. “Have you heard from anyone back there?” I asked.
            “Do you mean is anyone looking for me? No, they aren’t,” he said. “Jake called a few times, but he finally left a message indicating he knew I’d finally skipped town.”
            “And you’re sure he won’t come after you?” I asked.
            “He wouldn’t know where to start,” Seth replied. “I left no way for him to trace me here. Even my car is still registered in Ohio.”
            I continued slicing while I decided how to phrase my next question. “Do you ever think this was a little – I know easy is the wrong word – but it seems like there should have been more to it,” I said. “Like, it sucked for about a week. Otherwise, I just keep expecting something big to go wrong.”
            “It’s not that difficult to disappear when you know how,” he said. “We’ve both had to make adjustments, but we covered our tracks.”
            I looked up at him as I scooped the meat into a pan for a stir fry. “And you don’t miss it?” I asked.
            Seth gave a light shrug. I barely caught it out of the corner of my eye. “What I miss, I get from going to Atlantic City,” he said. “But I’m used to doing that almost every day instead of every couple of weeks.”
            My shoulders slumped involuntarily and I let out a breath I hadn’t realized I had been holding. My own surprise surprised me.
            “You could try looking a little less relieved,” he said impatiently. “Give me some credit.”
            “That was me giving you credit,” I said as I met his eyes. “If I really thought you hadn’t changed, I wouldn’t have asked.” And I wouldn’t be submitting to you, I thought.
            “When exactly did I become less dangerous?” he asked. Glancing over again, I found him smirking, clearly amused by his own question.
            “Oh, you’re still dangerous,” I told him. “But I know how to stay on your good side now.”
            Seth chuckled, but I immediately regretted my words.
            “Shit, that sounds manipulative,” I said. I’d poured frozen vegetables in with the chicken and covered the whole thing to let it all simmer. Crossing my arms, I leaned against the counter. “Or like I’m just playing along or something. I promise I’m not.”
            “I had no doubt,” he said with a grin. He approached and kissed me on the forehead. “I look forward to the next 30 days and beyond.”
            That nerve ignited down the front of my body, and I was sure I would melt. Thankfully, he had turned toward the living room and missed all outward signs of it. 
…
           A month later, to the day, Seth asked me to kneel in front of him. We’d had occasional disagreements, but nothing major. The contract was working, and I’m not sure who was more surprised.
           Seth opened a long, plain white box. Inside was a simple chainmail necklace with black accent rings. It was perfect in its subtlety and would go with everything I owned. There was even a tiny padlock at the clasp that would be covered by my hair.
          “Where – where did you get this?” I asked.
          “I can’t reveal my sources,” he said with a wink. “Ask me for it.”
          Up until that moment, I had held it together. After all, it wasn’t as if I didn’t know this was going to happen. There’d been no mystery – we had talked about it.
          But his kindness had been a surprise. He hadn’t made me beg like my last ex. Hadn’t humiliated me or teased that it might not happen when I messed up in little things. He’d been more supportive than I ever could have wanted. As a result, I felt wanted, proud of how much I had already accomplished.
         Most of all? I felt useful and important. I had a place here. A purpose. And it wasn’t only to serve Seth. It was to better myself. Finally, I understood some of the feelings I had heard other submissives express, of feeling worthy yet lesser at the same time.
          Only I wasn’t inferior – I was an equal who was choosing to sometimes be lower. That it was a choice – my choice – was key for me.
          “May I please wear your collar, Sir?” I asked quietly. I found I could barely get the words out.
He placed it on my neck without another word. I’d never felt so close to another person or wanted so much to please them before in my life. 

My first day was the usual for any new job. Lots of forms to fill out. A couple of training videos, getting introduced around the office. It was a nice place, and I looked forward to working with the people there. But it was going to take a few days to get used to the new schedule. I was used to being able to nap when I needed to, and naturally, I hadn’t slept well before the first day.
 
When I got home, I was determined to make something quick and easy for dinner, then make an early night of it. Seth appeared in my doorway just as I finished getting changed. “Is this where you tell me you’ll be skipping town now?” I asked.
 
Seth looked perplexed and then a little hurt. “Look who’s in a hurry to get rid of me,” he said.
 
I hung up the skirt I’d been wearing. “No, but … that was the plan, wasn’t it? Something something California, home of tech geeks?”
 
“I can do that from here, Lu,” he replied. And though he had managed to conceal the hurt, the confusion remained. “And I want to make sure this new job doesn’t fall through for you.”
 
“Wow. You really think I’m going to fuck this up too, huh?” I asked.
 
“I never said that,” he replied.
 
“You didn’t have to,” I told him and moved to step out of the room. But his arm across the threshold stopped me.
 
“What do you want from me?” he asked.
 
My shoulders slumped. This was far too heavy a conversation for a mind already overfull with new information. “I really don’t know anymore, Seth. What do you want from me?”
 
Something about the way his eyes washed over me made me feel like prey. They suggested that he wanted to shove me against the nearest wall and have his way with me. But I was probably projecting again.
 
“I came in here to see how your first day went. Big picture though? I want you to finish turning your life around,” he stated. “And I’d like to be here to watch it happen. Unless you’d rather I go, of course.”
 
I didn’t. I truly didn’t. But until this moment, he had only ever emphasized the impermanence of our arrangement. When had that changed? “God, I really must be a train wreck,” I said and pushed past him into the hall.
 
“Stop it,” he said and grabbed my arm. “You know that’s not true.”
 
“Do I?” I yelled as I wrested away from him. I instantly realized I was overreacting, however. He wasn’t the reason for my anger. I was just tired. “Listen, I – I love having someone to come home to. I even like having someone to be accountable to. But I – I can’t have this conversation right now.”
 
“Of course,” he said. “And I should have mentioned sooner that I had changed my mind. I assumed you had figured it out.”
 
Someday, I would get a real apology. But this wasn’t that day. And honestly, the situation didn’t warrant one. “Can we talk tomorrow then? Do you mind?” I asked.
 
“Tell you what,” he replied. We had reached the kitchen and I was staring into the refrigerator as if the perfect, cheapest, healthiest meal would simply appear. “Give this new job a few days – say a week – figure out how stressful it’s going to be, what the hours are. And then we’ll come back together and figure out how to move forward.”
 
I looked over at him in confusion. Move forward how? And why did this sound like a business transaction? “You mean, like, rules and stuff, or – ”
 
“Rules, routines, schedules,” he said. “Obviously, some of that is going to have to change, now that you’re working. I can take over some more of it since I’ll be here more. For example – ”
 
Seth gently took me by the shoulders and moved me to the side. This helpful side to him was new, and I didn’t fully trust it yet.
 
“How about you let me make something – how does grilled cheese sound?” he asked.
 
“Perfect,” I said.
 
I curled up on the couch with my phone, but didn’t even open any sites. All the stress of the past few months seemed to evaporate, and I felt like I could truly relax for the first time since we’d arrived in the City.
 
I was asleep before Seth even brought out dinner.  
…
 
By the following Sunday afternoon, I had already learned a great deal about the new job. There would be some overtime – usually with notice – but nothing I would have to bring home or worry too much about once I left the office. My boss, Joanne, was amazing and laid back. She emphasized the importance of life outside of work, was funny, and at least as liberal and open-minded as I was. I could see her becoming a friend and, so far, I got along with my other coworkers as well.
 
There was, therefore, little doubt that this job would work out. And I turned my attention to life at home and what I wanted there. It was a whole new stressful line of thinking. Until that week, I had acted on the assumption that Seth would leave shortly after I got a job. Everything had hinged on that.
 
On the other hand, I wasn’t entirely surprised he was willing to stay. Our routines were effective, our disagreements productive, and we genuinely seemed to enjoy each other’s company. The specifics of how our relationship played out felt flexible. With little clue as to what he would ask for, however, I found my apprehension grow as our meeting approached.
 
We had agreed to each make a list – of potential rules, protocols, everything. Much as I had enjoyed the structure we had started, I wasn’t sure how much farther we could take it. Would the changes we made improve our lives, or bring everything we had worked for come crashing down?
 
I know that sounds dire and a bit melodramatic, but that was my mindset as we sat down at the dining room table that afternoon.  
 
“You look nervous,” Seth said.
 
“Talking about this stuff in theory and actually doing it are very different things,” I told him. “And I’m out of practice on the latter.”
 
“You still have to agree to whatever we discuss here,” he said and placed some sheets of paper on the table in front of him. “Right?”
 
That was my problem, actually. What if our visions didn’t line up at all? What if one of us wanted something far more rigid than the other? What if I agreed to something and changed my mind later? So many questions, none of which would be answered unless we had this talk.
 
“I know,” I said. “I just – this feels like a big deal. Maybe I’m overthinking.”
 
“It potentially is,” he said.
 
If the next words out of his mouth were “we’ll figure it out” or “one step at a time,” I was going to strangle him.
“We have a lot to go over,” he continued. “But none of it is set in stone, we’ve negotiated well up until this point, so I doubt any one decision is going to be critical. We have the fundamentals down in that we both want to continue in the direction we’re already going in.”
 
Worse, it had been one of his lectures. At least it had been a reassuring one.
 
“Well, the main thing that’s been on my mind is that I would like to explore the local kink community,” I said. “I know there’s a munch held not far from here. And there are parties in the city. Personally, I think it’s time I get back out there. You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to.”  
 
“Is that a good idea?” he asked. “That is, would it be a good idea for you to go alone?”
 
“I can take care of myself,” I said.
 
“You don’t get it,” he said and sounded frustrated. “Should a submissive attend these things on their own?”
 
“I honestly don’t think it matters,” I said. “I was prepared to go out whether you wanted to or not.”
 
“What’s gotten into you?” Seth asked. “Why so defensive all of a sudden?”
 
So many things, I thought. First and foremost was that if no one in this apartment was going to fuck me, I was going to finally get out and look for someone who would. More importantly, however, was how pointless this all might turn out to be. Everything might change again in six months. If he changed his mind, my life would be thrown into turmoil again. And what was the point of his staying anyway?
 
“It’s just – well, I guess I don’t understand why you want to be here,” I replied. “Like, what happened to your grand plan?”
 
“Turns out it wasn’t that grand after all,” he smirked.
 
I narrowed my eyes at him as I began to suspect I was only a consolation prize. “Did something happen? I mean, did something fall through?”
 
“Not at all,” he assured me, and sat forward to fold his hands in front of him. “But I can see through to ways to improve both our lives, and I’m with someone who is ready to willingly hand over the power to do that. That’s very attractive to me.”
 
My shoulders relaxed as I sat back. My real fear, it turned out, was that this was still a way for him to keep tabs on me. But that didn’t seem to be the case at all. “Thanks,” I said. “That’s really helpful actually.”
 
Seth pointed at the paper in front of me. “Let’s see what’s on your list then.”
 
I hesitated briefly, then said, “You first.”
 
In response, he simultaneously snatched my list away and shoved his own toward me. “You’ll probably need some of that explained,” he said. “I used my own shorthand.”
 
Mine was similar, but I was too busy perusing his list – and trying to make sense of it – to say that out loud. “There were items like, “more Sir,” which was easy to interpret. But also “no no,” “privacy,” “nails,” “furniture,” and “Corsets?” Of course, there was also an entry for kneeling.
 
What perplexed me was that my list had focused on scheduling – keeping with alarms in the morning, even on weekends, when to do chores, that sort of thing. “Yeah, I can figure out, like, two of these,” I said.
 
“And why does yours read like a checklist?” he shot back.
 
“What’s wrong with that?” I replied.
 
He began gesturing before he began to speak. A sure sign I was in for another lecture. “Changing patterns of behavior and creating new habits is all well and good, but I want you to think about why you’re doing these things,” he explained. “Not just be some mindless drone.”
 
“That wasn’t my intention at all,” I whined.
 
“I also want you to think about who you are doing these things for,” he continued. “Yourself, yes. But also me. Maybe I haven’t been clear on this, but my goal here is for this to be a service-oriented partnership. Which means your focus should be on me when you’re here, meeting my needs, and pleasing me.”
 
“Your goal is to lecture me to death!” I exclaimed.
 
Rather than escalate, however, Seth simply sat back and crossed his arms. “Are you not interested in the same thing?”
 
“I thought I was,” I replied, more subdued now. “I actually thought I showed that in my list.”
 
“This is housework,” he said, tapping the pages. “Something which – I think I said this, but in case I didn’t – something I’m more willing to help with now that you’re working. It’s part of being an adult. That – ” He indicated his list. “is about me, and what I want you to do for me specifically.”
 
There is a nerve that runs down the front of my body. It starts somewhere between my breasts and runs down to my pelvis. I don’t know if it’s a physical thing that would show up in x-rays, but when I feel it, it’s a sure sign that someone – or something – has hit a sort of sweet spot in my libido. Cut through all the bullshit and found the exact thing that turns me on.
 
I had first felt it through portrayals of bondage and kidnappings in film. That scene in Raiders of the Lost Ark where Marion was tied to a pole had hit that nerve while I was still too young to know what it meant. As I grew older, the ways to find it had grown more sophisticated.
 
Seth was hitting it now.
 
I swallowed hard and prayed that my desire wasn’t written all over my face. I had never hidden emotions well. “Can you explain what some of this means then?”
 
He turned the paper slightly to remind himself what he’d written. “First of all, I want to be addressed as Sir more often,” he started.
 
And would you believe I let that go without a sarcastic comment? I was surprised too, but there seemed little reason to goad him. I nodded silently.
 
“I was also reading about – and hear me out because I don’t like the sound of this either – slave positions.”
 
“Okay … ”
 
Seth sat forward again and looked like a child with a new favorite toy. I wondered how much I was going to regret introducing him to those forums.
 
“I won’t ask you to contort yourself that way, but I wondered if there wasn’t some way to modify them,” he continued. “I thought you could kneel for me when you get home from work as a way of shifting your focus.”
 
I liked the idea more than I wanted to admit. “We could try it,” I said.
 
“No objections?” he asked, the suspicion evident all over his face. “Or are you simply saying what you think I want to hear?”
 
“No,” I said simply. “I actually like it.”
 
“What will I do if you aren’t arguing with me?” he asked.
 
“Enjoy it while it lasts?” I suggested. “After all, we’re not very far into this list of yours. What is ‘no no’ anyway?”
 
“Ah, something else I came across,” he said. “Someone’s rule was that they aren’t allowed to use the word ‘no.’ In any context.”
 
“Oh, that is not going to fly,” I said.
 
“Again, let me explain,” he said. “It wouldn’t mean that you couldn’t disagree with me. Only that I would need more explanation than a simple ‘no’ provides.”
 
Alright, I was starting to see his point. And it might even make an interesting challenge. Someday. “I still want to veto it,” I said.  “What is ‘nails’ and ‘furniture’?”
 
“I want you to stop biting your nails,” he replied.
 
“Excuse me? Trust me, I’ve tried. Bu that is a very old habit, and I don’t think it’s something you’re going to break me of,” I told him.
 
“Has anything ever worked?” he asked.
 
“I mean, I’ve gotten the occasional manicure, with fake nails and all that, but they’re expensive and only last a couple of weeks,” I explained. “Why do you even care about this?”
 
“I don’t like it,” he said, pointing at my hands. Several of the nails there had been bitten down to the quick. “It looks messy and unprofessional.”
 
And yet, I had gotten this job in spite of them, I thought. And I was pretty sure it wasn’t my nails that had kept me from getting previous ones. This wasn’t 1960. “I don’t disagree, but – ”
 
“I will finance manicures, if that will help,” he said.    
 
I wrote it down. 
 
“Second, I like the idea of you not being allowed on furniture,” he said. “Again, not all the time, but I don’t think you asking permission to be off the floor is unreasonable.”
 
There was that nerve again. I wrote it down, and promised myself a date with my vibrator for later. “Why does corsets have a question mark after it?”
 
“Because that was the one I wasn’t sure how you would react to it,” he replied.
 
The only one, huh? I thought. He didn’t know me that well yet. Did he?
 
“Have you ever tried waist training?” he continued.
 
I pictured the simple black corset that had so far remained hidden beneath underwear and bras in my dresser drawer. “I mean, I’ve worn a corset, but that’s not the same thing as training.”
 
“What’s the difference?” he asked.
 
I was astounded that he could have done so much reading and not understood better than this. “The difference?” I asked. “The difference is between wearing it for a couple of hours a night, once or twice a month, vs. wearing it several hours a day. Ideally, all but a few hours a day.”
 
“But you work up to that, right?” he countered. “It’s a discipline?”
Now, his reasoning was clearer. “True,” I said. “And I – I’ve tried it. It’s not something I can make myself stick to. But I also have to say that wearing a corset puts me in a similar headspace as rope. It’s a type of bondage for me.”
 
This wasn’t me trying to get out of a potential new rule, and I hoped I had conveyed that. Seth looked thoughtful. “So it’s probably not feasible for work. Especially a job you’re still learning. Does that sound right?”
 
“Exactly,” I said, relieved. “But you do realize that there are people who have this sort of relationship without rules at all? Like, this might all be unnecessary?”
 
Seth regarded me with narrowed eyes, more than a little confused. “Is that what you want?” he asked.
 
All of a sudden, I was overcome with emotion. Even I hadn’t seen it coming, and I knew it would be difficult to explain. I began to pace, partly to clarify my thoughts, and partly so I wouldn’t have to stare into his eyes.
 
“I don’t know,” I said finally. “I don’t think so, not right away at least. I mean, we’re talking about a lot of things, so I want to write it down, just to keep track of what we decide, but – ”
 
“That was my thought too,” he said and shifted in his chair to face me. “I want something, in black and white, that we can point to. Even if it only serves to prove that we agreed on something.”
 
He finished with a wry grin., no doubt as an attempt to add some levity to the proceedings. But I wasn’t there yet. “I don’t want to fight you,” I said. “The problem is that I’m fighting myself.”
 
“How so?” he asked.
 
A knock sounded at the door. Much as I liked our neighbors, they certainly had lousy timing. I opened the door to find Alex beaming at me. Quite a change from her usual, more cynical expression. “Claire says we’re kidnapping you to get ice cream with us,” she said.
 
“God, I can’t – I’m really sorry,” I told her. The disappointment was real. This conversation was work and we still weren’t that far into it yet.
 
Alex’s expression returned to its normal, dour state as she glanced toward the inside of the apartment. “You okay?” she mouthed silently. Her mouth moved in an exaggerated fashion to make sure her message got through.
 
I stared at her blankly for a moment before it dawned on me what she was really saying. “Oh! Yeah. It’s just that, with the new job, we have to figure out a new budget and all that. It’s sort of a state of the union type conversation, you know?”
 
Alex nodded though she still looked a little skeptical. “Congrats on that, by the way.”
 
“Thanks,” I smiled.
 
Their door opened then, and Claire joined us. “Hey, babe – you coming into the City with us?” she asked.
 
“Nah – she has to be an adult,” Alex deadpanned.
 
“Sorry,” I shrugged.
 
They left, promising I wouldn’t get out of future plans so easily, and I returned to Seth. “Sorry about that,” I muttered.
 
“Not your fault,” he assured me. “I appreciate you sticking around for this though. Even if you are being abused.”
 
So much for our attempted subtlety. “I actually appreciate that she was concerned enough to ask,” I retorted. “Where were we again?”
 
“For reasons that are still unclear, you’re fighting yourself over this contract,” he said.
 
“Right,” I nodded. Going for ice cream would have been so much more fun, so much less pressure than this. This must be what maturity feels like, I thought. No wonder I had resisted it for so long.
 
There was too much to explain to Seth, however. Too many demons that weren’t up to him to slay. Maybe it wasn’t worth going into all that with him. “It probably doesn’t matter,” I said out loud. “I guess I just wish this wasn’t necessary.”
 
Seth leapt out of his chair to confront me. For a moment, I wondered if he was going to hit me. Despite the aggression, however, he still appeared more confused than angry. “Wait a minute!” he yelled and pointed back toward the table and our notes there. “If this contract – this agreement – whatever you want to call it, is going to cause more problems, if you’re going to end up backing out – ”
 
“That’s not what I’m doing,” I said.
 
“Then what!” he shouted.
 
I took a deep breath and unleashed all of my frustration. “Every time I look at those pages, or think about what I want out of all this, it’s a reminder of just how bad I fucked up! You just said it yourself too – this should be basic adulting, 101 shit that I should be able to do on my own. Instead, I need you. This idea I had, that I’m a strong, independent woman who doesn’t need anyone is all bullshit. That’s what I’m dealing with. See, I was listening to you in the car after all.”
 
Seth crossed his arms and eyed me with a level of empathy I wouldn’t have expected from him. I thought back to his outburst in the car and his admission at the time that none of this had been part of his plan either.
 
He knew exactly how I felt.
 
“First of all, I don’t think of it as either of us needing the other,” he explained. “I think of it as two people supporting each other and making each other’s lives a little easier because none of us are lone wolves out here. No matter how much we think we are. I probably should have figured this out years ago myself.”
 
Had he revealed more than he had intended? It was a rare moment of candor that bordered on vulnerability. I wasn’t mollified yet, however. “That doesn’t change the fact that I failed pretty spectacularly,” I said. “Like, no one should have had to say, ‘Don’t steal from your friend.’”
 
“Okay, let’s take that part out of the equation for a minute,” he said and resumed his pacing. “Let’s look at what led to that. Life is not intuitive. There’s no instruction manual. Everyone learns by fucking up.”
 
I opened my mouth to speak, but he held up a hand and cut me off.
           
“Just listen for a minute – I’m feeling generous, and I don’t know how long it’s going to last,” he said with a grin. “My point is that, until that last act, you didn’t do anything worse than most of the people in this country. You overspent? On the wrong things? Join the fucking club. There’s a reason bankruptcy courts are full and credit cards are so easy to get. It’s all a trap. You’re not unique for not seeing it.”
           
He glanced around at the apartment. “The way we’re dealing with it might be unusual, but nothing else about you is.”
           
Part of me wished he had expressed any part of these sentiments during our cross-country drives. The rest of me knew they would have fallen on deaf, defiant ears. “Wow – thanks,” I said. “I appreciate that.”
 
            “That doesn’t make any of it okay,” he amended. “Your actions are understandable, not excused.”
 
            My back had been to him, and I shook my head. “There’s the real you!” I exclaimed. “I knew you were under there somewhere!”
 
            As I turned to face him again, however, I realized that every time I expected him to escalate, raise his voice, lash out, he did the opposite. This time, for example, he stuck his hands in his pockets and adopted a condescending air. “More like this is reality, babe,” he retorted. “Your mistakes may be common, but you still need to work at correcting them.”
 
            It would do no good to point out how smug he was being, or that he wasn’t perfect either. That argument would get ugly and out of control quickly. Further, it would get us no closer to the thing we both actually seemed to want – a dominant/submissive contract.
 
            “That’s what I’m trying to do,” I said as I made my way back to the table.
 
            “Good,” he said, following me. “Because I can’t make you do anything or force you to change. If that’s truly something you’re interested in, we either do this, or we start over with some other plan from scratch.”
 
            This reaction he was having was precisely why I hadn’t wanted to go down this road. I still marveled at Seth’s ability to be both comforting and judgmental in the same breath. “I do want this,” I said and took a place behind my chair. My arms draped over the back. “Like I said, my fight is with me, not you.”
 
            “Listen,” he said as he mirrored my stance across from me. His tone was softer now. “If I’m hard on you, it’s because I do see your efforts, and I don’t want you to throw all that away.”
 
            And for all his contradictions, he was rarely unfair. More often than not, our arguments had resulted in a greater understanding between us. A surprising feature given our adventures so far.
 
            “You may not believe this, but not following through with this was never an option for me,” I said. “But I’m still coming to terms with a lot.”
 
            “Shall we then?” he asked as he picked up his pages. I nodded. “A few last thoughts then. First, I want some type of general rule on top. I can’t possibly predict every task I’ll ever give you.”
 
            “That’s fair,” I smiled. “So, do what you say, and no one gets hurt?”
 
            “Something like that,” he said. “Though I seem to remember pain not being a deterrent for you.”
 
            “No, it still isn’t,” I conceded.
 
            “Right, so I think the last thing I have on there is privacy,” he said. “This place isn’t big, but we both deserve to have a place we can retreat to without the other. I propose our bedrooms. You can’t enter mine without permission, and I won’t enter yours without permission. Deal?”
 
            I wrote that down too.
 
            “If you don’t have anything else, type it up and we’ll go from there,” he said. For some reason, neither of us had retaken our seats. As if we were both still on edge, ready to pounce at the slightest provocation.
 
            “I actually do have one more thing,” I ventured. This was going to be the scariest suggestion yet, but I had to get it out before I lost my nerve. “Well, two.”  
 
            “What’s that, doll?” he asked.
 
            “First, Robert and I did a thing where, when we were together for a meal, I let him start eating before I did. I always liked that one.”
 
            “Done,” he said. “What else?”
 
            Fuck me, I thought. Right here and now. Fuck me hard. Take all the control from me, and just fuck me. “What about sex?” I asked out loud. “Is it still off the table?”
 
            “Yes, it is,” he replied, and didn’t even give me a chance to protest. “There is too much newness here as it is. I won’t add another complication at this point.”
 
            I had expected as much, and could always give myself orgasms. But the memories of the ones he had given me were still strong. The thought of them ignited that nerve down the front of my body. “After all, you already have whatshername down in Jersey,” I said. “And hopefully, I’ll find someone once we start going to munches and parties.”
 
            “We’re not serious, by the way,” he said quickly. “I could tell her tomorrow that I’m leaving town and she’d say, ‘see ya. Have a nice life.’ No strings.”
 
This seemed to be his way of reassuring me that this other woman was not my competition. But what I heard was that I was strings. I was the obligation. Otherwise, that was a lot of words for something that ultimately mattered very little to me. “You’re not big on relationships, are you?” I asked.
 
“Off and on,” Seth shrugged. “Depends on your definition of relationship. This is a relationship.”
 
“I mean romantic relationships that go beyond being fuck buddies,” I said.
 
“Off and on,” he said with a grin.  
 
His demeanor offered no further insights, and I was in no mood to belabor the point. So, with nothing else to add, I said, “I’ll get started on this then.” And then retreated to my room. I couldn’t let him see my disappointment or how much I wanted him.
 
It would all wait.
 
When I presented the proposed contract to him later that evening, he was surprised at the speed, but otherwise approved. “The only thing I wasn’t sure of was how long to make it for,” I said.
 
“Make it 30 days,” he said. “If, at the end, we don’t come across any huge problems or obstacles, we can make it for a year, complete with a collar. What is your opinion of collars anyway?”
 
“I like them,” I said. “Obviously, I can’t have anything too, well, obvious, but if we’re going to do this – make it all official and everything, it would be nice to have something subtle.”
 
"Deal,” he said. But as he studied the document an extra moment, it was clear he had come up with one more one last thing. “Can you grab my pen from the table?”
 
 I returned with it and he began writing. “It’s not fair that you’re the only one with rules here,” he said. “I’m adding my own responsibility, that I am to support and guide you without causing harm.”
 
 This time, the sting of tears wasn’t a negative. You know how people always warn you about red flags? They’re so quick to point them out that they never to think to point out green flags, or reasons to continue a relationship. The entire negotiation had been full of green flags for me, and I found myself dumbfounded again.
 
 “Y – yes, Sir,” I said. 

--

Yet another aspect of their relationship that I felt needed a closer examination.  In the original, we never see Seth decide to stay, we don't know when it happens. He simply does. Nothing wrong with that but I thought it could be improved. 

And I love their entire negotiation. Of course she is still coming to terms with stuff, of course she is still adusting. He's used to moving every so often and starting over. She isn't. I wanted to be sure we saw that. 

And that nerve? Very, very real for me.

​I felt good coming out of that interview. Joann, my theoretical new manager, and I had clicked instantly. Sure, we talked skills and such, but I felt like she had seen what she needed to on the resume and was judging me as much on personality as anything else.
 
When I got home, Seth was beaming and handed me a scrap of paper. “You just missed a call,” he said.
 
Glancing at the name he had written down, I was shocked. “Are you kidding? I was literally in her office like, half an hour ago.”
 
“This came in less than five minutes ago,” he said. “You should call her.”
 
I did, and she wanted a second interview the next day. Unfortunately, the only time she was available was a time I was scheduled to talk to yet another agency that might have something in the future. So I scheduled the interview with Joanne for the day after.
 
I immediately regretted it.
 
“Do you think I made a mistake?” I asked Seth once I’d hung up.
 
“I think you honored your commitment,” he said. “I think that if she’s that interested in you, she’ll understand. She must know that someone who is job hunting is going to have more than a few irons in the fire.”
 
Amazing how he could be simultaneously reassuring and logical. “I’m going to worry about this until it’s here, you do realize that, right?”
 
“Relax – there’s nothing you can do about it now,” he said.
 
But there were options, and we both knew it. “Tie me up?” I asked.
 
“I told you, nothing that might leave marks the night before an interview,” he said. “Get through the second one at this place, then see if you still need tied up.”
 
Somehow, I’d never managed to impress on him the concept that I always wanted to be tied up. “That makes sense,” I said instead.
 
“Go relax some other way,” he said and nodded toward my bedroom.
 
I waited a beat to see if he wanted to join me, but he didn’t seem to. “Maybe later,” I said. 
 
“Alternatively, I was reading up on non-painful punishments,” he said. “If you really want a distraction, I could give you a writing assignment.”
 
His patented wry grin was back. It said he was mostly kidding, but wasn’t about to let go of the idea either. “Wait, what am I being punished for?” I asked.
 
“I could always make a case for you being a brat,” he replied.
 
“I am not a brat!” I protested.
 
“See, it’s that insolence right there that I’m talking about,” he said. God, he really was getting good at this. I needed to find a way to limit how much he read on those forums.
  
“And what shall I be writing, Sir?” I asked. I batted my eyelashes and spoke in a sickly sweet voice designed to make me sound far more docile than I actually was.
 
Seth thought for a minute and then smiled. “Let’s see, how about, ‘I’m good enough, I’m smart enough, and doggonit, I deserve this job.’ 100 times. Keep up the attitude though and I’ll double that.”
 
I tried to stifle a giggle and failed. One of the nicer surprises of this living arrangement was that, regardless of how serious he was – when he said things were to be a certain way, he absolutely meant it – there was often a bit of silliness to his directions or the tasks he set out.
 
“You can start after dinner,” he said.
 
Sure enough, after we had eaten and the dishes were cleaned, I sat down at the dining room table with a notepad and began. Seth sat in the living area reading but I could tell he watched me out of at least one eye most of the time. I had no view of a clock from where I sat, so no real sense of time passing except for the sinking sun.
 
By the time I finished, I was exhausted. Funny how the simple act of writing can be so tiring, I thought. I was so used to typing, I’d forgotten that using a pen takes far more effort. Seth came over and sat in a chair next to me as he examined my work.
 
“Feel better?” he asked.
 
“Yes, Sir,” I said.
 
“Good.” For every mistake he found, I had to rewrite the sentence five more times. If he found more errors in those sentences, I was to re-write it ten more times for each mistake. It was enough to make anyone attentive to detail and I wished I could bring up the exercise in my job interviews. This time, he found four sentences where I had either missed a word or doubled a word. I stayed at the dining room table as he went back to reading. Twenty sentences later, he found one mistake. Ten sentences after that, they were perfect.
 
“Do you believe it yet?” he asked once I was finished.
 
“Almost,” I replied.
 
“Say it,” he instructed.
 
“I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and doggonit, I deserve this job.”
 
“Good girl,” he said. “Now time for bed.”
 
I slept like a log.
 
At the end of the second interview, I learned that it was down to me and one other person. My heart sank. I’d been in this situation before and it had not gone well for me. The woman I’d interviewed with had even called me to let me know how difficult the decision had been instead of sending me a rejection letter. She’d been very kind, but the fact remained that I had stayed jobless and had had to continue my search.
 
This time, I was assured that they would have a decision by the following day. The other candidate would be interviewed in the afternoon and the committee would meet soon after that. I went home and tried not to hold my breath.
 
“Do I need to create more lines for you?” Seth asked when I updated him.
 
“Maybe,” I said, already sounding dejected.
 
“Do you have any more interviews this week?” he asked. It was Thursday.
 
“Not unless someone called while I was out,” I said.
 
“Come with me,” Seth beckoned and led me into my room.
 
I stood waiting at the foot of my bed with my arms crossed and all my weight on one leg with my hip thrust out.  I stared at the rope that sat in a pile on the floor.
 
Seth tossed a couple of bundles of rope onto the bed then went through the toy bag that lived in my closet. He brought out my favorite blindfold and a ballgag. The blindfold was secure and had a plastic top connected to thick foam with holes cut out. It allowed me to open my eyes and even look around, but still not see anything.
 
Most blindfolds put too much pressure on the eyes, in my opinion. Being able to move your eyes and even blink made it that much more disturbing to be in total darkness. 
 
“What are you so impatient about?” he asked when he saw how I was standing.
 
I straightened out and breathed heavily. “I’m sorry – I’m just afraid of being disappointed again,” I said. “I don’t know if I –”
 
In one swift motion, Seth turned me around and covered my mouth with one hand. With the other, he applied the blindfold. “That’s enough of that,” he said. “What did you write out 130 times last night?”
 
He removed his hand and my voice was shaky. “I’m good enough, I’m smart enough and doggonit, I deserve this job,” I said. “But that doesn’t mean –”
 
His hand went back over my mouth. “What did I just say?” I felt him move away but I didn’t dare move. Not that I had much of a chance anyway. “Open up,” he said next.
 
I did and he shoved my gag in my mouth, pulling the strap tight behind my head. I tried to reach for it, make some adjustment, but Seth pulled my arms behind me and used them to guide me to the side of the bed before pushing me down on it. I tried to squirm away, but he pinned me down and drew my arms back behind me again. This time, he secured them with rope while I struggled to move the gag to a slightly more comfortable position, using only my tongue and teeth.
 
When he was done with my arms, he moved on to my ankles, tying them together and then drawing them up and connecting that rope to the one around my wrists for a hogtie. I heard him walk out of the room while I struggled to settle into the tie. When he came back, I could also hear a ticking. “You can stay that way until this goes off,” he said. It was the kitchen timer, and of course I had no idea how long he had set it for. At worst, it could be an hour. At best, only a few minutes.
 
“Go ahead,” he said. “Struggle away and do your worst.”
 
I know he stayed close. I heard him moving in and out of the room, but the carpeting muffled the sound, and I was never sure exactly where he was. All the while, I alternated between struggling to see how far I could get and being resigned to not getting anywhere. When the alarm went off, it startled me. A few seconds later, Seth removed the gag. I stretched my mouth and tried to re-find my voice. “Thank you” I said.
 
“What else?” he asked.
 
“I … I don’t know,” I said.
 
“What happens if you don’t get this job tomorrow?” he asked calmly. He must have been kneeling next to the bed because his voice seemed to come from directly in front of me.
 
“I keep trying,” I said quietly.
 
“Why?”
 
“Because the right job is out there,” I said, still struggling. “I just need to find it.”
 
“Tell me you can do this,” he said.
 
I rested my forehead on the bed. I wanted to cry. “I don’t know,” I said.
 
“How long can you stay tied up like this?” Seth asked.
 
“Not much longer,” I said. I guessed I’d been in that position about half an hour.
 
“Then say it,” he said.
 
“I can do this,” I said wearily.
 
Seth pulled my hair and removed the blindfold so I was forced to look up at him. “I’ll let you go for now,” he said. “But in the future, you’re going to have to convince me better than that.”
 
He untied me and I curled up under the covers for a few minutes to cry. This was part of my process and my version of aftercare. I’d never needed much from my tops in that way, and this was no different. When I was done, I took my favorite fuzzy blanket into the living room and curled up on the couch across from him.
 
“Why can’t you ever just pat me on the head and say, ‘it’s going to be okay.’?” I asked.
 
Seth lowered his book and looked at me over the cover. “First of all, you would rather be tied up,” he said. “Second of all, that implies that there is some magic fairy that will wave a wand and make things better. There is no such fairy and there is no such god. Nor is it up to anyone else to make it better, Lu. It’s up to you to make it better. You make it better with hard work and perseverance, not magic and faith in things that do not exist.”
 
I had definitely gotten used to his lectures. I didn’t even bat an eyelash at this one, though I didn’t completely agree with his beliefs. Or rather, lack of them.
 
“You exist,” I said. “Could you just hold me for a little while?”
 
“Come here,” he said.
 
The next day I got the call. They asked me to start a week from Monday. 

In the months after our move, Seth and I slowly acclimated to the neighborhood, the borough and each other. We found some of the local neighborhood secrets– restaurants and shops that would probably never get the publicity or notice they deserved but that we loved. I learned how to get where I needed to go on the subway system and even some of the buses.
 
We met several of our neighbors in the building too. There was a woman down the hall who owned birds and you could hear them screeching no matter how far you were from her apartment. I’d talked to her once in the laundry room and her name was Tara, but I mentally dubbed her Tippi. There was another man who seemed harmless but clearly suffered from some form of OCD. When I ran into him in the lobby, he was always pacing and he would look vaguely shocked, as if I had interrupted his routine. We exchanged pleasantries about the weather and such, and I felt bad for not knowing better how to react to him. I never did get his name.
 
There was a lesbian couple next door who turned out to be lifelines for me. Alex was butch with short, spiky hair, and dressed in chest binders and men’s dress shirts. She worked as an ambulance dispatcher and had the most wonderful stories about the calls she got. She was sarcastic, like me, and I often felt like I was talking to myself when I was around her. Her partner Claire was only slightly more feminine in appearance but was warmer and more sociable. They seemed a perfect match and had been quite helpful showing us around the neighborhood.
 
Claire was going to school full time so she could teach English to speakers of other languages, and was therefore home more often during the day, either studying or taking whatever classes she could online. We had them over for dinner as soon as it was feasible and went out as a group a couple of times.
 
Seth also started travelling to Atlantic City so he could gamble. I know he started seeing someone while he was down there, but I knew little beyond the fact that her name was Julie. While he was away, Alex and Claire and I often headed into the city. I enjoyed going out with them, flirting with both, and making people wonder who was involved with whom. They never made me feel like a third wheel and I was always grateful for their company.
 
We visited jazz clubs and discovered an ice cream hangout that featured a drag queen outside directing traffic. She was a riot, whether you were a customer or not. It became a favorite destination for us.
 
We also hung out around Times Square. The buzz of activity there reminded me of Vegas, only the casinos were replaced by theaters and studios. And this was the real thing. While Vegas had felt gaudy and overrun with second-run shows and performers who seemed to be clutching at straws to maintain some semblance of their former greatness and relevance, there was just enough grit left in New York’s theaters that you could smell the sweat of ambition, competition, and rising stars. The entire atmosphere seemed to ring with hope. Or maybe I’d just seen A Chorus Line and Fame too many times. It was hard to tell, but I found myself wanting to be part of it, if only to witness some great talent and be able to say I’d seen them before they were famous.
 
I loved hanging around the theaters, especially when the shows let out – it was like going to a movie where you actually had a chance of meeting the stars afterwards. I found it surreal.
 
The commercialism and obscene numbers of tourists—especially on a Saturday night—wore on me quickly but it was usually worth it for the celebrity sightings. More than once, we passed particularly big stars who spent a great deal of time signing autographs for anyone with a Playbill.
 
Of course, Seth and I painted. And fought. We argued over what colors to use and why we hadn’t gone with the other apartment instead. In the end, we split the actual work and agreed to a dark yellow for the living and dining rooms. I thought of it as sunny until I noticed a bruise healing and found that the yellowish color it turned right before it vanished was nearly identical to our walls. Even so – and maybe because of that fact – I found it soothing.
 
Seth’s room and the bathroom were turned white. Mine was a nice mint green. With the black furniture I’d picked out, it felt very Art Deco to me. The kitchen did indeed keep its black accent walls.
 
Seth contacted some of his corporate employers and seemed to get referrals almost immediately. After all, it didn’t matter where he was for that work. He could hack into their computer systems from anywhere. He also made sure to contact a few companies he knew were local to New York and went to a few in-person meetings, something he hadn’t always been able to do before.
 
He was busier with that work than ever as reports of real hackers kept making the news almost daily. I was impressed by the respect he commanded. Not that I was surprised, of course, but thinking of him as a computer guru was still new to me and it was pleasing to see him recognized for being such an asset.
 
He chose not to pursue local bail bondsmen in the area as he would have had to register with the state in order to do so legally. Instead, it was an option he reserved for later on, if he needed it and once we were sure no one was tracking either of us. He seemed sure no one was, but as he didn’t really need the extra work, it didn’t seem worthwhile to jump over the necessary hurdles. I was secretly glad as it meant he would be home a great deal. It had taken me awhile to adjust to the area and I felt safer when he was around.
 
As for me, I applied for jobs. Hundreds of jobs, it seemed. I signed up with temporary agencies and checked in with them regularly. I emailed my resume to companies hiring for permanent positions and made follow-up calls. I mailed hard copies and followed up on them, too. Sometimes I would work for a week or two at a time, but it was always something entry-level for someone on vacation. Once, I was hired when a woman went on maternity leave. They loved me, said they would hire me if she decided not to come back.
 
She came back.
 
I was frustrated but Seth didn’t allow for self-pity. He made me keep trying. I applied for jobs I thought were out of reach, just in case they wanted to give me a chance. I applied for jobs I thought were beneath me just so I could have something, anything. It seemed I was always either over-qualified or under-qualified.
 
I perfected my story about my poor parents and their health until it sounded natural. When applying for permanent jobs, I fell back on what I had always told employers in that situation, that I just wanted somewhere I could land, that I was looking forward to being able to stay in one place for a while. And that really was the truth.
 
When I wasn’t working, I was still on a schedule. I had told Seth that I responded well to routine, that I would remember to do things better if they were a habit. He made a list of chores and how often he wanted them done.
 
At least a couple of times I was grateful to be on an enforced schedule as it meant I was up early when a call came in from a company that wanted an interview, or from an agency that needed someone that day. It felt good to be able to sound professional on those calls instead of groggy and half asleep. But the stress was starting to get to me and the worry that I would never find that perfect job—or even a decent one—was settling in. I had been stuck in these frustrations before – not all that long ago either. It still sucked.
 
One day, I arrived home from a particularly awful interview to find Seth reading discussion threads on one of the BDSM websites I had suggested. I had wanted him to learn from more than just me and be able to look into questions whenever he wanted. He’d never gotten around to buying a proper desk, however, and used our dining room table instead.
 
“Learning lots?” I asked as I tossed my purse onto the table.
 
“I will have you know that I finished a rather lucrative project while you were away,” he replied, crossing his arms. “It took me weeks to crack it.”
 
“I wasn’t judging,” I told him. “I’m actually glad you’re interested in learning.”
 
I headed for the kitchen to start dinner. Like any good Italian, cooking could always make me feel better. And I had found a new recipe for chicken soup that I was anxious to try.
 “I’m learning all sorts of things,” he called in. “For instance, there are a lot of things you are neglecting to do around here, young lady.”
 
His tone suggested he was kidding, though you couldn’t tell it from his face. I decided to play along until he proved otherwise. “Is that right?” I asked.
 
Seth consulted his screen. “Dommer6969 here is convinced that submissives should be allowed as few choices as possible. And he’s trained quite a few, you see.”
 
I approached the section of counter that faced the dining area and rested on my elbows. “Let me guess,” I said. “He actually prefers slaves because they have no rights at all and, it’s just a preference, but he likes his girls – oh, he probably calls us females – under 25 and fit. No fatties. No baggage.”
 
“I see you’ve met,” Seth said.
 
“Yeah, it’s called the internet,” I said and returned to my chicken stock and vegetables. I needed to chop … something. Probably many things.
 
“Actually, there is one thing I’d like to see you do,” Seth said as he moved into the kitchen. It wasn’t that big of a space, and he had opted to lean against the refrigerator with his hands in his pockets. I shoo’d him out of the way.
 
“What’s that?” I asked.
 
“Kneel,” he replied simply.
 
Assuming he was still joking, I dumped my chicken stock into the largest pot we had. It wasn’t all that big, but it was more than sufficient for two people. But Seth wasn’t saying anything, and I looked up at him for clarification. “Oh god, you’re serious,” I said.
 
“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked. His tone had gone stern, and he had arched an eyebrow. I had come to think of it as his warning look. It meant he wasn’t angry. Yet. But he was about to be depending on what came out of my mouth next.
 
And there were so many reasons this was a bad idea. Reasons I struggled to articulate over the next several moments. “Well, you and I don’t exactly have that sort of formal, high-protocol dynamic,” I started. “We’ve never done that sort of thing. Jesus, you’re more like a boss than anything. I mean, I consult you about stuff, but it’s not like you have a say in all that much.”
 
His eyebrow was still arched. “Please, keep digging,” he said.
 
“I guess kneeling is more of a sensual thing for me too,” I continued. “And – and I don’t really see you like that.”
 
“So, it would help if I was fucking you?” he asked.
 
“I didn’t say that,” I retorted.
 
“Then for the love of god, what are you saying?” he asked.
 
“I – I’m saying I still have a lot of autonomy around here,” I said. “I can still say no.”
Seth shook his head. “And you wonder why people think submissives have the real power,” he said.
 
“Don’t you dare – ”
 
“Because don’t think for a second I haven’t regretted letting you keep those choices!” he shouted.
 
“And what exactly have I done that’s so awful anyway, huh?” I yelled back.
 
 “Exactly?” he said. “You’re still spending too much money. Especially on clothes. Not to mention some of the weird odds and ends you have decorating this place. There’s also been at least one job that wanted you to stay on, but that you turned down.”
 
He started to go on, but I was too flabbergasted to let him. Nevertheless, I tried my best to keep my voice level. “I needed a few basic pieces that I didn’t have, so that I could look professional,” I explained. “Cleveland professional is not the same as New York professional. Plus, I found most of that online – at discount sites – or at local thrift stores. It’s not like I’m out there traipsing around Saks Fifth Avenue. Those odds and ends? Most of them came from the same thrift stores.”
 
Seth’s face had begun to soften, but I drove on. There was simply too much he had misunderstood.
 
“And that most basic of data entry jobs on the Upper West Side? It barely paid enough to get me there and back,” I said. “Not to mention, I have never been so bored off my ass in my entire life. I can do better, I know it. And while we’re on the subject of money? Do you even realize how often I used to eat out back home? Or how much I’ve saved by cooking so much here? You want to act like I don’t think about these things, but I do. And I would like some goddamn credit for once!”
 
He didn’t speak right away, and I assumed I had gone too far. “Shit, I’m sorry,” I added. “I just – I know I’m not going to get the job I interviewed for today. I wasn’t what they were looking for at all. Plus, I have another interview tomorrow that I’m really nervous about because I actually want it and think I would be good at it, but I’ll probably fuck that up too, and – ”
 
“Stop,” he said softly. “You’re right. I didn’t see most of that.”
 
“I still shouldn’t have taken my frustrations out on you,” I said. I’d be taking them out with my vibrator later, I thought.
 
“Tell me about this interview tomorrow,” he said.
 
It was as close to an apology as I was going to get from him, and I wouldn’t push for one. Still, I missed the words, “I’m sorry.”
 
“Well, it’s here in Brooklyn,” I said. “For a major online retailer – their fashion division. The position is part receptionist, part office manager. I’d be organizing meetings, ordering supplies, that sort of thing. The description was basically my resume. It’s perfect.”
 
Seth leaned against the counter. “Tell me why you’re perfect,” he said.
 
I shuffled my feet and stared at the ground, completely unprepared. Before I could start stammering, he continued.
 
“I hope that’s not going to be your response tomorrow,” he said.
 
“It’s just that I wasn’t expecting to be describing it to you at this moment,” I replied.
 
“Now you are.”
 
“They need someone organized, and that’s definitely one of my strengths,” I told him. “I’m used to juggling multiple projects with multiple deadlines and prioritizing each with little or no supervision. I’ve worked with attorneys – both associates and managing partners as well as staff, so I’m accustomed to dealing with all levels of an organization easily.”
 
“And your weaknesses?” he asked.
 
“Well, my confidence is in the toilet,” I sighed.
 
“Be serious,” he instructed.
 
“I am!” I shouted. “This is far from the first time I’ve gotten my hopes up so I’m a little leary of doing so again!”
 
“What are your weaknesses?” he repeated.
 
“I get overwhelmed easily,” I told him. “I can sort through everything, but if I’m given a lot of tasks at once, it’s going to take me a minute.”
 
“I think that’s called being human,” he said.
 
“I don’t think well on the fly, alright?” I said. “I need a minute to process things.”
 
Seth nodded. “For what it’s worth, I agree on all of that. You know yourself well.”
 
“Great,” I snapped. “Does that pay well?”
 
Seth stepped forward. “Are you trying to get me to punish you?” he asked. “Because I’m not going to do anything tonight that might leave marks.”
 
“I’m saying I – I need a minute,” I told him and nodded toward the pot that I still hadn’t bothered to light a burner under. “Tomorrow I’ll be fine, but right now I need to lose myself in this. I need this to go well.”
 
“I’m sure it will,” he said. “Do you want help?”
 
For a brief moment, I considered enlisting him to chop vegetables, but then I thought better of it. “I really need to do this myself,” I said.
 
“Fine. I’m going to go see what else I can glean from Dommer6969 then,” he said and kissed me on the forehead before leaving.
 
Supporting myself on the linoleum, I hung my head and simply wept silently for a couple of minutes. And what I realized was that, more than anything, I did want to kneel for Seth. He had been tough and he had pushed, but he had also heard me and given me space when I asked.
 
Maybe if I knelt for him, he would stay beyond my securing a job. Not that he seemed to be in much of a hurry anymore, but he’d never said he’d changed his mind either. And what if I was self-sabotaging to get him to stay?
 
When I examined that thought, however, I knew it wasn’t true. I had tried my best and simply not gotten anywhere. Most of the time, I knew it wasn’t personal. There were factors I was unaware of, and the right job would come along any day.
 
Besides, kneeling for him then would have felt manipulative, and that wasn’t how I wanted to keep him. I needed him to want to stay.
 
It was all too much to think about. Way too much. Following a recipe proved much easier.
 
And the soup? It was amazing.

I also aced the interview. 

--

One of the concepts that ended up feeling rushed in the original version of this novel was Seth and Lucy's power exchange dynamic. They were far too quick to jump into it, in my opinion.  I was anxious to get them trusting each other and so they did. As a result, one of the changes I decided to make here was that we would see more of the steps of how they got to that place. 

Just like it was important to see them have sex for the first time, I felt it was important to see her kneel for the first time. It's a huge step for her, and not one that should have come easily. We also see more of Seth's willingness to learn and research for himself, as well as figure out how to separate the bullshit from what is valuable.