Page 9 of Daddy Marc's Gem

Marc shook his head firmly. “No, Foster. I’m not married or seeing anyone.” He reached out, his large hand hovering near Foster’s arm before gently settling there. “That’s not what this is about at all.”

The warmth of Marc’s touch steadied him, anchoring him to the present moment. He exhaled slowly, embarrassed by his spiraling thoughts.

“I’m sorry.” Foster lowered his head. “I just—”

“You don’t need to apologize.” Marc’s voice was gentle but firm. “But I would like to understand why your thoughts immediately went there.” He glanced at a nearby bench. “Will you sit with me? I’m certain that strolling through a museum right now is the last thing you have on your mind.”

Foster nodded, and Marc guided him with a light touch to the small of his back. The bench overlooked a section of the garden where late-blooming flowers stubbornly defied the approaching winter. They sat close enough that Foster felt reassured by Marc’s presence. He angled his body toward Foster, his expression open yet searching.

“I know we haven’t known each other long,” Marc began, “but I’ve noticed something. You expect disappointment. You brace for it, almost welcome it.”

Foster's cheeks heated. He studied his hands in his lap as if they were the most fascinating thing ever. “Yeah, I guess I do, don’t I?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “It’s easier sometimes. You know, so I won’t be disappointed.”

“Is this because of your ex?” Marc regarded him without judgment.

“Yeah,” Foster sighed. “He had a pattern of setting me up for disappointment. Making plans and canceling. Promising things he never intended to deliver.” He traced a pattern on his knee with his fingertip. “I’ve also allowed others to do that to me, even before him. I always give up control to people who then take advantage.”

Marc pressed his lips together, pausing before speaking. “That makes sense. Our past experiences shape how we interpret current situations.” He held Foster’s gaze. “Thank you for sharing that with me.”

He rubbed his forehead, back to appearing pained. Even if Marc wasn’t cheating on anyone, he was clearly uncomfortable about what he wanted to tell him.

“Now it’s my turn to share.” Marc gave him a melancholy smile. “I’m hoping you’ll hear me out before responding.”

Uh-oh. What could be worse than cheating? Marc seemed like an upstanding guy, yet…

Marc cleared his throat. “You already know I’m a therapist, but I haven’t told you what my specialty is. When I began my career, my practice focused on clients who struggled with sexuality and identity issues. That was something I dealt with growing up, so I was drawn to that area of study. Over time, my focus evolved to include relationship dynamics, particularly...” He paused, his gaze steady with intent. “Particularly alternative relationship structures and power exchanges.”

“I see.” He sort of did in a general way. But the part about alternative relationships struck him like therapist jargon thatneeded clarification. “When you say alternative and… what was it? Power exchange? What does that mean exactly?”

“Those who follow the BDSM lifestyle. I went to a workshop in New York and met someone who became my mentor. When he opened a club here in Boston, we became closer as friends, and I discovered a lot about myself. Eventually, I realized that being a Dom for me went beyond power exchange. I was drawn to being a Daddy. A nurturer, a caretaker. Someone who provides structure and guidance. That led to requests for my help as a therapist.” He dragged his fingers through his hair. “So you see, before we get involved, you need to know what I’m looking for in a partner.”

Foster felt as if he was frozen to the bench. Like his body had turned to stone, and he could neither move nor speak. Breathing wasn’t coming so easy either.

Marc arched his eyebrows. “Are you okay?”

His mouth had gone dry. He tried to swallow, his heart hammering so loudly he wondered if Marc could hear it.

“I... I’m okay,” Foster managed, his voice thin, though he was anything but okay. His mind raced, trying to process everything Marc had revealed. He’d heard of BDSM before, of course. Edward had once shown him some pornography that had made him uncomfortable—all leather and chains and pain. But a Daddy? That was something different, wasn’t it?

“You don't look okay,” Marc said gently. “Take your time. I know it's a lot to take in.”

Foster’s gaze drifted to a fallen maple leaf near his shoe, its edges curling upward as though it was reaching for something. “So when you say Daddy, you mean...”

“Not what most people initially think,” Marc’s voice remained steady and patient. “It's about creating a dynamic where one partner provides guidance, protection, and structure, while the other offers trust and submission. It’s not necessarilyabout age role play, though some do incorporate that. For me, it’s about nurturing someone, helping them grow, celebrating their successes, and being there when they struggle.”

Foster nodded slowly, chewing on his thumb as he tried to imagine what Marc might be like when he was a Daddy. “So it’s like... taking care of someone?”

“In many ways, yes.” Marc’s expression softened. “A Daddy Dom creates boundaries and rules that benefit his boy—his partner. He offers praise when deserved and correction when needed. But most importantly, he provides a safe space where his partner can be vulnerable without fear.” Marc smiled. “It’s about connection, Foster. Deep connection.”

A small, involuntary shiver ran through him. The idea of someone taking care of him, of having someone he could truly trust with his vulnerabilities, stirred something deep inside him he hadn’t known existed.

“And this club you mentioned?” Pictures of men in studded leather being whipped jumped into his head. Of course, Marc said he wasn’t interested in that, but wouldn’t those kinds of things be at a BDSM club? “I mean, it’s not really my business, but do you like, do stuff with men, or…” His cheeks caught fire. “Boys, I guess. How does that work as a Daddy in a public place?”

Marc smiled again. The fact that he was so calm was helping Foster hold his shit together.

“That’s a good question. For me personally, I don’t participate as a Daddy in public. I either meet a boy who’s looking for that type of relationship dynamic, or I get a private room to scene with a boy for that night only.”

“Umm… You might’ve lost me again. IthinkI know what you mean, but just in case.” He tilted his head. “Scene?”

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