Nathan hated it.
“It’s one a.m.,” Daddy… Ken… had a nice voice. Baritone, Nathan guessed. Suave. Older. His body was tingling with awareness before he could talk sense into it. “You can’t tell a Daddy you’ve been crying and not expect a call, boy.”
Even when he added a more stern intonation to it, Nathan felt suddenly surrounded by a layer of warmth better than all those blankets in the dungeon.
Comforted.
Even when he knew it was stupid, probably his mind playing tricks on him.
“Sorry.”
“Why do you think you’ve made a mistake?”
“I…” Nathan gulped a lungful of air, repositioning himself on the bed so his free arm wrapped around his bent knees. “I went to a dungeon tonight. There was no demo, but I… I asked a Dom I know to flog me bad, and it was good, but now… Now I just feel empty and I… I don’t think I should’ve gone.”
Silence met his tirade. Nathan shouldn’t have been surprised. To be fair, he hadn’t meant to put it all out there. The silence had him trembling, though, biting his lip so he didn’t make another sound, let another tear leak.
This never happened to him. He didn’t understand why it would now.
“Didn’t that Dom give you aftercare?”
“Yeah.” Nathan sniffled, cursed inwardly right after. “He dropped me off, too. Didn’t want to leave me alone, either, but I bolted.”
“Why?”
“Because I don’t want him.”
Ken didn’t ask what he meant by that. Nathan was glad he didn’t. He was putting too much of himself on the line already.
“I think you’re dropping. Has that happened before?”
“N-no.”
He’d read about it, of course. Nathan wrapped his knees tighter, curled himself in a ball. It made sense, he supposed.
He still felt embarrassed on top of the void, the questions, the wondering about what he’d done tonight.
“I don’t think I’m a good sub,” he admitted.
It was something else he hadn’t planned to say, but his mouth blurted out the words before he could think twice about it, about his vulnerability being exposed for Ken to gawk at until he got tired of it. Or until he figured out whatever it was he’d said he wanted to understand.
“You’re killing me here,” Ken whispered. Nathan heard some rustling in the background, but he couldn’t be sure. “I need you to keep talking, though, okay? Can you do that?”
“I guess.” Nathan shrugged before a shiver overtook him.
“Good boy.” The praise seemed to slip easily past the man’s lips, his voice taking a softer tilt. “What helps you after a scene?”
“Blankets. I wrap myself as a burrito.”
A soft startled laugh hit his ears. Nathan’s eyes widened, not having expected the sound, or the melody of it to hit him so hard.
“Do you have blankets with you now?”
“I’m sitting on the bed.”
“Is that a no?”
“I guess. I can curl under.”