When I emerged again, I could smell coffee.
“Good morning,” I said quietly, not wanting to startle him.
He turned from the stove and beamed at me. “Good morning, Master Luke.”
I smiled. “Let’s drop the honorific, Bear. You can call me Sir if you want, but I don’t personally like Master, because I associate it more with slave play and that’s not my thing.”
He nodded quickly, although he couldn’t hide the small frown as he clearly puzzled this over.
“What are you making?” I stepped closer.
He smiled again. “You had eggs and toast and stuff, so I’m making scrambled eggs and French toast. I hope that’s okay?”
“Oh, so you’re treating me, then?” I grinned. “Thank you, Bear. It’s been a while since someone stood here making me breakfast.”
The pleased flush that climbed up his cheeks made me feel warm inside. I was a pretty no-nonsense kind of guy, but I’d always been drawn to the glow a submissive got from serving or taking whatever I dished their way.
I went to the coffee maker that was gurgling softly. “How do you take your coffee?”
“I don’t drink coffee, Sir. Never really got into it and then in college I got my caffeine from Coke.”
He expertly flipped the French toast and cut up some fruit I had barely remembered I had while he waited for the toast to brown.
Soon, we were sat at the table. For a guy who liked to eat maybe overnight oats at his best, I could really appreciate this kind of thing.
“This looks lovely, Bear. Well done.” I cut a piece of toast and hummed around the cinnamon flavor. “Oh man, it tastes even better.”
Bear ducked his head and picked up his knife and fork. He’d waited until I’d taken the first bite, and I hadn’t even realized it.
I wondered if that was part of whatever training he’d had as a submissive, based on reading he’d done, or just him. Or maybe all of the above?
After I felt marginally more awake, I decided to start with the heavy talk stuff.
“So, Bear, do you have family or friends in town?”
He shook his head. “Not really. No family and I didn’t really get to know many people when I first moved here. Not to the point to be able to call them a friend anyway.”
“Ah, makes sense.” I pondered on whether to tell him what I thought about what had happened. Well, screw it. “In the future, if you’re in a new area and want to get into kink, go meet people. Talk to other subs. Make sure the Dom you’re going to play with has some credentials and is a good guy.”
Bear moved his scrambled eggs around the plate with his fork and seemed… dejected?
“I guess I’m… naïve, maybe?” he finally spoke quietly. “I tend to take people at their word.”
“There’s nothing wrong with that. I don’t think anyone should go into a situation like this expecting the other party to not be honest. Talk to anyone or read any proper source, everyone says BDSM is founded in honesty, right?” I waited for his nod. “So how would someone who comes into a new kink community expect anything but?”
He mused on this for a while, drinking his orange juice quietly.
“I don’t think he ever lied to me.” He glanced at me before dropping his gaze. “He just… omitted stuff, you know?”
“That’s his MO.” And if Bear had gotten to know other subs, he would’ve known that before he even went to meet Carl for a second time. “He’s charismatic and a good talker.” Then, because Bear deserved to know this, I said, “You’re the second submissive Allen has gotten out of that house.”
He looked at me, eyes wide, processing the information. Then his cheeks flushed red and he seemed embarrassed. “Well, I guess I wasn’t the only one stupid enough—”
“No.” I used my Dom voice. “That’s unacceptable, Bear.”
His eyes widened even more, and he looked taken aback. “W-what…?”
“Nobody in this house gets to call themselves names. In fact, the only name calling allowed is when it’s about mutually agreed humiliation.”
