Savaged

by Shay Savage

  I close my eyes and try to focus myself. I used to be great at switching into Dom-mode at a whim, but it’s more difficult now. The mindset that used to make me feel strong and powerful now fills me with trepidation and fear that I will screw it up.

  Again.

  The worst thing I can possibly do at a first meeting is to show my own hesitation and concerns. I need to be strong and sure of myself for her sake. She will need control in all things, and she needs to know I can provide her with that security.

  I stand and walk over to the window, reminding myself that I can do this. Domination isn’t about the physical control as much as it is about the mental state. The first thing I need to do is gain her trust.

  How can I do that when I don’t quite trust myself anymore?

  Rubbing the palms of my hands into my eye sockets, I take several breaths to calm myself. Yes, I’d made a mistake—a big one—in an area where mistakes are unforgivable. I’d learned from it, though. I will never make the same mistake again.

  Holly says this one is suited for me, and though we didn’t talk details just yet, I feel I can trust her judgment enough to try. If nothing else, I owe that to the sub she’s bringing to me.

  With new determination, I stand up straighter, square my shoulders, and survey the skyline out the window. I focus my thoughts, remind myself to watch her body language more than listen to her words, and glance at the clock.

  They’re ten minutes late already.

  I’m mildly annoyed, but I’m also grateful for the extra time to prepare myself. I remind myself that I know what I’m doing and that taking control of a situation is my forte. Mistakes aside, I can still do this. Holly believes in me, and she’s very good at matching people from the community with each other.

  I hear Holly’s voice outside my open office door as she speaks with my secretary. I’m tempted to pull out the bottle of Maker’s Mark I have in my bottom drawer but refrain. I should have all my wits about me. I’d dived into the relationship with the last sub without due diligence, and I need to be sure I evaluate this one more carefully.

  There’s a knock on my door, and I stand. Holly’s all smiles and twinkling eyes as she comes in wearing a tailored business suit. Holly’s a tall woman, attractive and sure of herself. Her hair is cut shorter than it was the last time I saw her but still flows around her head in soft, brown curls. She beams and reaches out to take my hand in both of hers.

  “Paul,” she says pleasantly, “sorry I’m running late. Construction traffic. It’s a pleasure to see you again.”

  “Likewise,” I reply. I can’t concentrate on the soft touch of her hand because my eyes are drawn to the woman behind her.

  She is in her mid-twenties with long, dark hair. It flows over her shoulders and partially covers the sides of her face. She’s small and slight, the effect compounded by her downward tilted head and the long overcoat she’s wearing. The collar of the coat is turned up, and the coat’s length hides her form almost completely. I can only see the simple black pumps on her feet and a bit of ankle. Her skin is smooth and pale, and she has contrasting dark eye makeup and burgundy painted lips.

  “Paul, I’d like you to meet Yvette Pearson.” Holly releases my hand and steps to the side, giving me a better look at her companion. “Yvette, this is Paul Bauerman, the chief financial officer of Bauerman and Tate Financials.”

  “Mr. Bauerman,” she says quietly as she bows slightly. She doesn’t look up at me or offer her hand, and I don’t return her greeting. Her feet shuffle slightly from side to side once before she goes back to standing perfectly still.

  She’s trained, no doubt.

  “Here’s her paperwork, Paul.” Holly hands me a small manila envelope devoid of any writing on the outside. I pop open the clasp and shake out the papers. The first page is full of basic personal information—name, address, birthday. I see Yvette Pearson is twenty-four years old, which makes her nearly ten years my junior and the youngest sub I’ve seen. After her statistics are a list of her references, her limits, and another page of personal information. “You’ll want to read that last page carefully.”

  I nod but don’t read it just yet. I place the papers on my desk and look at Yvette. She keeps her gaze on her feet, which I like, but I still can’t see much of her.

  “Remove your coat,” I command. “Hang it on the hook beside the door.”

  “Yes, sir,” she responds. She quickly releases the buttons and slides the coat from her arms before turning and taking the few steps needed to reach the hooks. The deep blue, knee-length skirt she wears billows around her knees but is tighter around her heart-shaped ass.

  Once she’s completed her task, she returns to the exact same spot and looks back at the floor. Holly raises an eyebrow at me but says nothing as I approach Yvette slowly. I walk around her completely, looking from the top of her head down to her toes.

  She doesn’t move or speak.

  Only the top button of her white, executive-style shirt is unbuttoned, leaving everything to the imagination. I can only barely see the outline of a white-laced bra beneath the fabric. I complete another half rotation around her and stop.

  I stand close but don’t touch her at first. I only let my eyes wander over her back and the rounded curve of her ass. I breathe slowly to keep myself in check and count to thirty as she continues to remain motionless.

  With one hand, I reach around and pull her hair from her face. I drag it slowly over her shoulder and lay it down her back, exposing her ear and the skin of her neck. With the tip of my index finger, I make the slightest contact with the skin just below her earlobe, drawing my finger down with just enough pressure to tickle the tiny hairs of her neck.

  She shudders, and I can hear her breathing increase a minute amount. I move my head close enough that my breath shifts the strands of her hair, but I don’t touch her again. I inhale with enough force that she can hear me.

  “Do you have a job, Yvette?”

  “Yes, sir. Part time.”

  “What is it?”

  “I work in a library, sir.”

  “Do you like to read?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  I take my hand and gather up the hair on the other side of her face before laying it across her back. I lean closely to the ear I’ve just uncovered.

  “Do you read smut books, Yvette?”

  She tenses and hesitates slightly before answering.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Why?”

  Again she hesitates. She opens her mouth once to answer and then closes it again.

  “Why do you like to read smut, Yvette?” I ask. “I’m not going to ask you again.”

  “I…I like it, sir.”

  “Why?”

  “It gives me new ideas.” Her shoulders rise slightly as she takes a deep breath. “I might learn a new way to please my master.”

  “Do you masturbate when you read these books?”

  “Sometimes, sir.” Her throat bobs as she swallows, and her cheeks darken slightly.

  I trace my finger down the other side of her neck, over her shoulder, and down her arm before I take a step back. I stare at her for several moments, impressed by her ability to stay still. I walk around and stand in front of her before I reach out and touch the end of her chin with my finger, tilting her head up a bit. She keeps her eyes cast down even as she moves her head.

  Well trained.

  “Do you like to be tied down, Yvette?” I ask softly.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Look at my eyes.” Her compliance is immediate, and I see that her eyes are as dark as her hair. “Do you think you’d like to be tied to my bed with your legs spread? Do you think you could remain this still as I make you wait and wait for my touch?”

  “Y-yes, sir,” she says. Her chin trembles slightly against my fingertip. “I would try, sir.”

  I lean in closer as if to kiss her, but stop short of our lips touching.

  “Are you wet right now just thinking about it
?”

  Her eyelids flutter.

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Say it,” I command, and her eyes open wide as she looks at me.

  “I’m getting wet thinking about being tied to your bed, sir.”

  I smile slightly before releasing her chin and stepping away. At the same time, I drop my eyes quickly to the floor and then back up to her face. She doesn’t miss the nonverbal cue and quickly lowers her gaze. I look to Holly and nod.

  “Yvette,” Holly says as she steps toward the young woman, “I’m going to leave you with Mr. Bauerman now. Is that still acceptable to you?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Are you certain?”

  “I am,” she says.

  “Then I will call you both tomorrow,” Holly says. She beams at me, looking very pleased with herself. I raise an eyebrow at her, but she just grins at me and heads out the door, leaving me alone with young Yvette Pearson.

  “Sit,” I command as I walk around my desk and point at the chair across from it.

  She complies without hesitation.

  I watch her sit. She is so silent, so subtle with her movements that the chair doesn’t even squeak as she sits. She is submission incarnate in her demeanor, and it is already enticing to me. She is quite attractive in a quiet and unassuming way. She might not make someone’s list of top supermodels, but she has beauty and grace about her I admire.

  I look down at her paperwork, slowly scanning her hard and soft limits. Holly was right about one thing—we matched well on paper. She’s not pain-obsessed, like some subs can be, and is definitely into bondage. I push the file to the side of my desk and cross my arms on the mahogany surface. I lean forward, resting my chin on my forearms and looking straight at her.

  “Yvette?”

  “Yes, sir?”

  “This is a completely private conversation,” I tell her. I hope it’s obvious, but I feel I need to state it anyway. “We are alone here in my office. The walls are soundproof, and there are no microphones in here. There is no one who can hear what we say except for you and me. Is that clear?”

  “Yes, sir.” She glances up at me, appearing a little more nervous now that we are alone, and I realize my words could be taken in multiple ways.

  I stand and walk around my desk and around her chair. She stays in the same seated position—eyes cast down, hands in her lap. She doesn’t fidget. I lean over close to her ear.

  “I am an extraordinarily powerful man, Yvette,” I tell her. I speak slowly and concisely. I can see the gooseflesh rise on her arms. I shift my position, and speak into her other ear. “I rely on privacy for my own protection and for yours. You are completely safe here. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, sir,” Yvette says quietly. Her shoulders drop slightly as her muscles relax a little, but her hands are still clasped together in her lap.

  “Good.” I walk back around and sit behind my desk again. Her hands are still locked and tight, but I don’t mind. I want her a little nervous.

  I take my time reading through her paperwork, glancing at her occasionally to make sure she isn’t fidgeting. She should be bored, and most people’s minds would begin to wander at this point, but I don’t think hers is. She’s completely tuned into my every move. I can feel it.

  I finish the last page of hard limits and turn to the final page in the document, which is hand-written in Yvette’s own words. It’s a testimony of some sort. I start to just scan it, when the word abuse catches my eye.

  I stop scanning and go back to the top of the page, reading more carefully now. She talks of previous Doms, likely those listed in her references, and the success and failures in those relationships. As I move to her retelling of her last relationship, I have to stop myself from gasping out loud.

  I was recently the victim of abuse. My last master beat me throughout our entire weekend together even though I had used my safeword. I was in the hospital for several days afterward, and I still have scars. Though I am a good sub, I have trust issues with new people now, and I’m afraid no other Dom will be interested in me.

  I stare at the paper for a moment before I realize my mouth is hanging open. I shut it quickly. Glancing at Yvette, I’m glad to see she’s still sitting with her eyes cast downward. I’m fairly certain I didn’t hide my initial reaction to the words on the page, but I hope she didn’t see it.

  Jesus Christ, what is Holly thinking?

  I have to dismiss this woman. I have to call a cab and send her on her way as quickly as possible. She’s been damaged. Not just damaged, but damaged by a man like me in the same way I had damaged Lily. There is no way we can be suited for one another.

  “Excuse me,” I say as I stand and move into the adjoining room. I take my phone out of my pocket and quickly select Holly’s number.

  “Holly, what the fuck is wrong with you?” I try to keep my voice low, but my tone is harsh. “How can you possibly think I’m suited for this woman?”

  “You are perfectly suited for her,” Holly replies with calm certainty.

  “I put someone through exactly what she’s experienced!” Again, I have to force myself to remain quiet enough that Yvette can’t hear me through the walls.

  “You did not.” She’s still calm, and it pisses me off.

  “How can you say that? You were there when Lily was in the hospital!”

  “Your situation is the exact opposite of what Yvette’s been through,” Holly said insistently. “Lily didn’t safeword when she should have. She was so focused on pleasing you that she forgot about her own safety. Yvette used her safeword, and she was ignored. Are you telling me you think you would ignore a sub who used her safeword with you?”

  “Fuck no!” I snap.

  “Exactly.”

  I let the single word sink in for a moment. Could Holly be right? Is Yvette exactly what I need? More importantly, can I be what she needs?

  I close my eyes for a moment and breathe deeply. Perhaps Holly is right. Could this be my chance? My hope of redemption? If I can heal this sub, can her healing lead to my own?

  “I’ll take her,” I said quietly. “Trial only.”

  “I thought you might.” She hangs up without another word, and I walk back into the office where Yvette still sits in the chair by my desk. As far as I can tell, she hasn’t moved an inch.

  Through the strands of hair slightly covering her face, I can see the way she presses her lips together in a thin, pale line. She blinks rapidly in the same way people do when they’re trying to hold back tears.

  She’s terrified.

  Something inside of me clicks, and the primal instinct to protect her grows rapidly. I need to take her pain away. There is a deep-seated need in my gut to protect, to save...

  …to own her.

  I’m afraid no other Dom will be interested in me.

  Cleansing Bonds: Chapter 2

  “Yvette, there is something I need to know.”

  “Yes, sir?”

  I walk with purpose back to my desk chair and sit. I lean with my elbows against the top of the desk and peer at her.

  “I want you to look me straight in the eye,” I start. She moves her eyes up to mine, but she hesitates. It is uncomfortable for her. “I wasn’t aware of your…your difficulties in the past until just now. I need to know, under no uncertain terms, that this is what you want. I want you to look me in the eye and tell me if you are still in this lifestyle willingly and why. Speak freely now.”

  I temple my fingers and lean against them, my lips pressed against my forefingers with my thumbs under my chin, and I wait. For a moment, she looks away and seems to gather her thoughts, and I allow her the time. I need an honest answer. Finally, she tilts her head and looks me square in the eyes.

  “Mr. Bauerman,” she begins, “when I was thirteen, my mother left my father. I have not seen her since. I have four younger siblings—two brothers and two sisters. While everyone else was talking about dances and dates and football games, I was raising my brothers and sis
ters. I took care of the house, the finances, and changed the oil in the truck. I cooked and cleaned up after them. I made sure they did their homework, and I was there for them at all times until I was twenty-one years old.”

  “My father has passed away, and my brothers and sisters have all grown up now. I spent my childhood being responsible for those around me, and now I just want someone who will take care of me. Someone who will take the burden of decisions away from me.”

  She takes a deep breath.

  “I want this,” she continued. “I don’t like to be alone, and I want to feel…safe.”

  She looks up at me and her eyes are an intense chocolate brown—deep and expressive.

  “I thought after…after what happened, I might never feel safe again. I tried to have a more typical relationship, but I know I need more than that. I need someone else to make decisions for me. I need to have someone to please. I need the domination. I just can’t-”

  She stops and takes a long breath.

  “I need it,” she says quietly. “I need to know I’m safe.”

  “Do you feel safe with me?” I ask.

  She takes a deep breath before answering.

  “Miss Holly said you didn’t…” She falters in her speech and closes her eyes for a moment before looking back at me. “She said that you didn’t punish.”

  “Is that what she told you?”

  “Yes, sir.” For the first time, Yvette fidgets in her chair. “I thought maybe it might work for me. I could still serve but not be afraid of what might happen.”

  I keep my gaze on her eyes for a long moment as she tries to remain still. I’m impressed by her ability to appear outwardly calm though I can see the turmoil inside her eyes. There are subtle changes in her posture. I’m not sure if she’s used to speaking freely with a Dom or not, but she’s definitely on edge.

  This is good.

  “Oh, I punish, Yvette,” I correct her. I lean forward onto my arms and stare into her eyes. “I definitely punish. I just don’t punish physically.”

  She drops her eyes back to her lap.