Play was play.
Kink was kink.
Valid and appropriate in all of its forms. And he loved the idea of a kitschy little collar with a heart that the wearer could open on their own being the gateway into a lifestyle that had brought Cooper so much joy and fulfillment. Let the simple pieces and the decorative paddles be an introduction into the intimacy the lifestyle had to offer. He was happy to do his part.
But this sheet of deerskin, this was for him.
Much like with Adam, there had been a time where Cooper did not enjoy being on both sides of things. His interest in switching developed out of necessity and self-preservation. Back in his late teens when he’d been with Shel, Cooper had been happy to submit, happy to yield, but when he’d asked for the same in return, his request was met with disdain. Shel had mocked him to the point of tears, and Cooper had turned resentful.
“Can you submit next time?” Cooper had asked.
Shel laughed at him, his mouth twisting into a sneer that had Cooper’s stomach churning.
“What’s funny about it?” he’d pressed.
“I’m not weak enough for that,” Shel told him.
“I’m not weak.”
“Submission is below me, Cooper. Like you.”
That had been the end of the conversation, and months later, the end of their relationship. He’d taken Shel’s accusation at face value while denying it down to the deepest parts of his soul. He knew he wasn’t less for kneeling. He also understood that submission didn’t make him weak just as dominance didn’t make him strong. But Cooper feared the imbalance, so he made the choice to learn both sides and to not settle for anything less.
What had started as a quest to protect his mental health and his heart had turned into an actual interest with a laundry list of kinks. Switching had changed from a necessity to a desire, and it was one he didn’t want to compromise on. Not for Adam, and not for anyone else. Maybe that made him stubborn, and so be it. If what he asked of Adam proved to be too much, then no matter how much he cared for the other man, Adam wasn’t it for him.
Over the years, Cooper had grown to find as much fulfillment on his knees as he did being the one in command. Cooper had never kept the fact that he was a switch secret. But when he met Adam years before, it had been easy to fall onto his knees first and foremost. Adam was a skillful and borderline sadistic dominant. He knew how far to push and he knew how fast to push. He knew how to get Cooper off better than anyone else ever had.
The times the two of them spent together made up some of the most explosive sex of Cooper’s life. And then they’d taken that stupid vacation. While Adam had been initially hesitant about the idea of submitting to Cooper, they’d reached an agreement. A weekend away, a change of scenery, a change of roles. Things weren’t quite the same after that… and then there wasn’t anything between them at all. Cooper didn’t regret it though. He still jerked off thinking about how delicious Adam looked on his hands and knees with a plug in his ass and welts on his back.
But that had been another life for them both.
Clearing his head of the memories, he smoothed the sheet of leather out across his workbench, marking off a three-inch stripe across the top and adjusting the ruler in the opposite direction so he could start marking off and cutting the falls. This flogger would be beautiful, he knew before he even sliced into the material, and it would literally take someone’s breath away. He flattened the rubber-gripped ruler along the edge of the leather and raised his blade, using the tip to notch into the thick hide.
Cooper had cut seven falls when his doorbell chimed. He cut two more, and it chimed again. With a sigh, he set down his blade and wiped the frayed puffs of leather off of his apron. He didn’t bother taking it off, only untied the strap around his neck to let the top fold down over his waist. He wiped his hands on a rag and bounded up the stairs to the main level of the house. He wasn’t expecting anyone, but he had some overseas deliveries that had been delayed and he hoped it was the courier with one of those packages.
But it wasn’t.
It was Adam.
Adam, dressed from work in slim cut gray slacks, black shoes and a matching belt, with a black dress shirt tucked in and buttoned up to the top. He had a gray suit jacket slung over his arm and his eyes looked distressed and borderline frantic.
“Are you okay?” Cooper asked immediately, Adam’s unease radiating off him in waves.
Adam snorted and rolled his eyes, quickly looking over his shoulder before stretching and looking over Cooper’s shoulder into the house. Cooper followed his line of sight.
“There’s no one here,” he said. “Did you want to come in?”
“Please.”
Cooper stepped aside and Adam came in, closing the door behind him.
“I would take your coat, but I don’t want to get it dirty.” Cooper gestured at the fuzz and dirt on his apron. “You can toss it on the couch. It won’t protect you.”
At that, Adam looked down at his hands tightened into the fabric of his blazer like it was some kind of shield that would safeguard him from Cooper, even though he was the one who’d come to Cooper in the first place.
“Did I interrupt?” Adam asked, dropping his coat on the back of the couch.
“I was just working on a new flogger.”
