Dom/sub

by B. D. Dark

  I obey then lean into the door, shaking uncontrollably.

  “And Julia?” I hear his voice softly through the closed door.

  I whisper, “Yes, Everett?” Then, realizing he didn’t hear me, repeat myself, louder, making sure he heard.

  “Do not pleasure yourself between now and then. Understood?”

  My breath catches, realizing by his demand that he did notice my scent on my hand. Do I agree? Does he even expect me to answer? I try to form the word, “ yes,” but my heart is thudding so hard against my lungs and ribs I find it hard to stand, let alone speak. Thank God, is my thought as I hear his boots crunching a path away from my door.

  Thank God he’s leaving.

  I am getting exactly what I've hoped and prayed for all these months and suddenly I am too scared to even consider joining him. It is quite a quandary and one I cannot face alone. Digging for my cell phone, I manage to speed dial Jonathon.

  “How long have you known Everett?” I demand, only belatedly seeing the illuminated clock dial reads one a.m. I’ve awakened him and probably Maxwell as well, but I really don't care if I am interrupting their beauty sleep.

  “I’m assuming things went well?” Jonathon asks smugly.

  I hear Maxwell in the background demanding details.

  “Why didn't you warn me that you were planning to introduce me to someone? I need to know stuff, damn it!”

  “Scary, isn't he?”

  “Hell, yeah!”

  “And exciting?”

  “Yes.” The answer whooshes through my lips before I can stop myself.

  “If I didn't think you'd be safe, I wouldn't have introduced you to him. I love you, Julia, you’re the closest thing Maxwell and I will ever have to a daughter of our own. I trust him. Go for it, sweetheart. You need a master like Everett; you’ve gotten too fucking Sammy for your own good.”

  “That's me, smart-assed masochist,” I agree sarcastically.

  “Not for much longer, baby girl.” He laughs and hangs up.

  I'm not impressed with his assessment of the situation or the fact that I have no more information about the man than before I called and consider redialing just to tell him so, but I don't; instead, I lay awake, replaying Everett's every word, every innocent caress and indecent innuendo until finally, I pass out just before dawn.

  * * * * *

  My bathroom mirror reveals my eyes are bloodshot and my hands are shaky. I've spent a restless, irritable morning searching for clues that Master Jasper ever existed in my life. I could almost laugh. For twelve years he was my life, but the truth is I have no proof of what it was between us. Yes, there are pictures, but for the most part they are straight pictures meant for a vanilla world, revealing nothing of the true life we lived together.

  Why now? Why did I have to wake up this morning totally freaking out?

  Because I plan to meet Lord Draco at noon?

  No. Because I feel like I will be cheating on Jasper.

  I splash water on my face, reminding myself that Jasper is dead. And yes, damn it, he left me living and it is okay to move on.

  The answer to my dilemma stands before me when I enter the master bedroom and I see what has been staring me in the face since Master’s death. My collar lies on the nightstand on top of the black, leather-bound journal Jasper presented me just before he died.

  “Write it down,” he’d commanded, and I’d refused. I couldn’t possibly write down what we’d shared, what I’d felt…could I?

  It would be proof. And suddenly, now, facing a meeting with a total stranger…I want proof, I need proof that what I had with Jasper was real.

  I pick up my collar reverently and set it to the side, then lift the journal. On the first page, scrawled in Jasper’s neat flourish are the words: To My Beloved.

  I cry. I cry because the rest of the pages are bare and for the life of me, I can’t remember. I try to remember his scent, but it is gone. I try to remember his voice, but it too is just beyond my mental grasp. “I’m sorry, Jasper. I need to live again.”

  * * * * *

  It is four minutes past noon by my watch when I knock on Lord Draco's hotel room door. His scowl informs me my tardiness is unacceptable and intolerable. I make no excuses, reminding myself how much I hate it when my students give me excuses for late homework. I silently promise my students a more lenient attitude in the future and curse my bedroom mirror for making every single outfit I tried on look hideous. I skim my damp hands over the hips of the black dress I chose. Suddenly the little black sexy number doesn't feel so sexy. I look down at my chest. Not even an ounce of cleavage shows. I decide I look like June Cleaver. I'm an idiot.

  “You’re late.”

  “I’m sorry, I ‑‑”

  He cuts me off with a lift of his hand. “Go away, Julia.”

  Without anything further, he closes the door in my face and I am left stunned, mouth hanging open. An image comes to mind of Samantha Martin, a straight-A student who arrived late last week for midterms, only a few seconds late, but late still. She’d found my classroom door closed and locked. The F she received on the midterm ruined her perfect 4.0 GPA. Her parents threw a fit, I’ve stood by my decision, and we go to arbitration next week. Until this moment I was so sure of my stance…and now ‑‑ I see myself only as an arrogant, mean ass. Whatever was I thinking?

  “Go away, Samantha,” I’d said through the closed doors, turning my back on her shocked sob. Now, I turn my back to Lord Draco’s closed hotel room door. I will not sob. If anything, Master Jasper made me strong enough not to cry. Master Jasper made me strong enough to walk down the hallway to the elevators, shoulders squared, and not look back, even though it is only eighteen dick shopping days until the New Year and I suddenly realize that I am shit out of luck.

  * * * * *

  I get only as far as the lobby before I find myself on the verge of hysteria, trying to convince myself that it was only the countdown to the New Year that had me so worked up, but also knowing on a gut level that my shaking hands and knees, pounding chest, upset stomach had more to do with being turned away by this man…not just any man.

  I don’t know why but out of all the men I’ve talked to, flirted with, even considered having sex with, let alone a play session, none have done it for me. I haven’t felt anything. So why, suddenly, does it seem that Everett does it for me on a very core level?

  He makes me crazy. Angry, excited, horny, scared shitless…all in a single breath.

  And I blew it.

  I can’t leave!

  I can’t leave it like this!

  I close my eyes, breathe deep, gather all the gumption I can, then race across the marble lobby floor of the Grand Omni Plaza on unsteady four-inch stilettos to the closest house phone.

  I am thrilled when he answers on the second ring.

  “I’m sorry,” I say.

  “What do you really want to say, Julia? And I swear if you say the words I’m sorry again, you will have no chance whatsoever.”

  “I want to ask you if I can come up to your room and will you let me in if I do?”

  “Come up, Julia.”

  I catch my reflection in a large, silver gilded mirror. I really shouldn’t have worn this dress. I hate it. I really wish I had time to change, but then he’s already seen the dress. Oh, hell.

  * * * * *

  He doesn’t comment on my dress. Silently, he lures me into a candlelit room and I am stunned at the amount of detail he’s prepared for our midday rendezvous. He has staged a very Gothic feeling scene: a sparkling crystal skull stands watch from the nightstand, a red velvet throw covers the bed, and he himself, looking so dark, so mysterious, and in one word, foreboding.

  Standing me in the center of the room, he steps away.

  “Take off your clothes. I want to see you.”

  I blink, surprising myself with the hot press of tears behind my eyes. His demand was to be expected. It was the reason behind choosing an easy-on-easy-off dress. Still, I am take
n aback, realizing that though what he has asked isn't difficult, nor painful or humiliating, the simple fact is that it is quite impossible for me to accomplish; the problem being that I haven't disrobed in front of a man since Master Jasper became ill. I turn to run but Lord Draco catches my arm and pulls me sharply against his chest. “I didn't say you could leave.”

  “I can't stay, I’m…” I start to say I’m sorry, but remembering his threat, I choose silence instead.

  A tear slides down my cheek, and then another. I feel his warm breath against the back of my neck as he lifts my hair.

  “Shh,” he gentles, pushing his fingers into my tense neck and shoulder muscles. “Talk to me, Julia.”

  I relax against him, completely breaking down. He supports my full weight against his chest as I manage to say between sobs, “I haven't…since Jasper…I thought I could…but…it’s…only Jasper has seen me naked…since…since he collared me. There hasn’t been anyone else… I can’t.”

  “Relax. Jonathon explained about Jasper, about your relationship with him. It’s commendable that the two of you were together so long. You loved him.”

  I nod even though it was a statement, not a question. My entire body shakes uncontrollably and I embarrass myself by being so childlike. “I should go.”

  “No, Julia. You definitely should not go.” Massaging my shoulders and neck, his fingers dig deeper and deeper into my flesh, leaving me bone weary, exhausted. “You miss him. I understand that. And it is hard to be intimate with someone new after being in a relationship as long as the one you shared with Jasper. That’s longer than most marriages. I get that and I promise to be patient with you. I want you to be comfortable with me. I want you to feel safe with me.” In an instant, I feel as if I've been relieved of a great weight that I hadn't even realized I'd been carrying.

  “You may not know it but Jonathon respected your decision to stay with Jasper, even though he felt like you needed more than Jasper could ever offer you.”

  “I loved Jasper!” I hiss. Defensive and angry, I try pulling away, but Lord Draco holds me still in his embrace.

  “I’m not condemning your love for Jasper, but I agree with Jonathon’s assessment. You needed someone stronger than you, someone who was willing to test your mettle and help you discover what you're made of. It’s time for you to let go of him. That’s why I’ve waited until I felt you were ready ‑‑ to give you time to mourn.”

  His lips caress the back of my neck.

  “You waited?” I ask, confused. “You’ve planned this?”

  “Yes. Your love for Jasper has become legendary over the years, as has the woman. Many believed you would finally recognize your dominant side after Jasper's death and take a submissive of your own, because even though you don’t recognize it in yourself, you are a very strong, dominating woman. It is what attracted me most to you the first time I saw you.”

  I suck back a sob, sure that he feels the shudder ripping through my limbs.

  “I came to his funeral but of course you wouldn’t remember me. However, I was so taken by you…by everything about you, your beauty, your grace, your charm…I admit it, I wanted you, desperately. I couldn’t bear the thought of anyone else having you. Maybe that sounds a little insane. I’ve been friends with Maxwell for a very long time, and it seems a bit stalker-like, but I’ve asked him to keep an eye on you for me, to let me know when you seemed ready to allow another master in your life, because I didn’t want to miss any opportunity of getting to know you.”

  “I didn’t know,” I whisper. “You’ve been just waiting for me?”

  “Don’t get me wrong, I’m no monk; I’ve had my share of fun.” Everett laughs. “And there was always the chance that I would meet someone else, even though I wasn’t really looking because I knew I really wanted to meet you. And no one else has kept my attention for very long.”

  “Why now?”

  “Isn’t it obvious? You’re beginning to carry yourself with confidence again, and I admit that I’m not certain you are ready for what I have to offer you, but I know that if I wait, there will be another vying for your attention.”

  I snort at that. “They’re not exactly lining up the block to meet me.”

  He lifts my chin so that I’m not staring at the patterned bedspread, but looking into his face as he leans over mine. “You were giving off the ‘don’t come near me’ vibe before. Now, you’re not. If it was an obvious enough switch for Jonathon and Maxwell to pick up on, it wouldn’t be long before every Dom in the Tri-state area picked up on it.”

  I think about the frantic call I left on my friend’s answering machine, threatening to pick up men at random bars to fuck if the BDSM singles meeting didn’t work out.

  Everett turns me around so that we are facing each other, belly pressed to belly. “I am going to ask you once more to disrobe for me.”

  Quaking begins anew; I drop my eyes. “This is very hard for me.”

  “Yes, hard,” he agrees, lifting my chin to force me to meet his gaze. “But I wish to see you naked and you will pleasure me by removing your dress.”

  “My dress? Just my dress?” I ask? He nods, and I decide it may not be so bad if all he asks is for me to remove my dress.

  Not taking my eyes off his, I reach behind my back and slide the zipper down. An expert at the art of striptease, I don’t even try for seduction. Hissing silk is the only sound as I allow my dress to fall to my ankles and step away from the fabric without fanfare. His warm hands slide down my arms as he takes in the vision of my delicately embroidered, white lace camisole and tap pants with scowling eyes. I know without a doubt that he is not pleased. My knees shake as he pulls the camisole over my head.

  My nipples pebble under his intense scrutiny. Reaching out, he touches my right nipple, saying, “Very nice.”

  Turning me, he pulls my wrists behind my back. He takes his time, stroking my arms lightly from shoulder to wrist. He mesmerizes me with his skillful touch, making me feel full, heated…liquid. I know even before he says the words what is coming.

  “Relax, Julia. I'm going to bind you now.”

  Chapter Six

  If I was any more relaxed, I imagine I'd topple over. Already, my limbs feel like heated honey beneath his touch. His voice is the one I've heard in my dreams for years, commanding me to do the things that push my personal limits, things I would have never expected Jasper to ask of me, things I would never dare ask of Jasper. Older now, I recognize my needs and have for some time. This man I almost believe I can share my wickedest fantasies with, and as if he's read my mind, he whispers, “This afternoon I will learn how your body responds to my touch, but tonight we will discuss needs and desires, yours and mine. I want to please you, Julia, and it is my hope that in time you will want to please me.”

  Silk cord wraps, encasing my wrists, its sensual feel deceptive of its holding power. Without asking, I know he is an expert with knots.

  “Easy,” he commands.

  It is only hearing his voice that I realize that I have been pulling against my bonds.

  “Relax your upper arms. Press your shoulder blades together,” he instructs.

  My wrists secure, he loops the remaining length around my forearms, knotting and wrapping until even my upper arms are secured tightly behind my back. My elbows are not touching each other but nearly and with enough pressure to be uncomfortable. My biceps strain against the unaccustomed bondage, and though I try to relax into the ropes, knowing it would be easier on my body, I find it impossible; the more I try to force myself to relax, the more my muscles fight the strain. The cord unexpectedly snakes around my waist, and in a quick swish-swish my breasts are separated by a silken X of cord. Another loop and tug later, I feel like my shoulders will escape their sockets. I pull my bottom lip between my teeth to keep from crying out…or worse, saying anything else that would offend Lord Draco.

  Turning me to face him, he makes a tsking sound and pulls my lip from between my teeth with his thumb. He rubs t
he tender flesh as if inspecting for damage. Leaning nearer, his lips come close to mine and he says softly, “I don't intend to break your skin, I don't expect you to.”

  His mouth claims mine mercilessly, sucking in my bruised bottom lip, scraping teeth against teeth, forcing my tongue to dual with his. When I am released, on his terms, I am breathless and my mouth slightly sore. He steps back to survey the damage and squeezes my cheeks tightly together with his fingers. I know he sees swollen lips and the skin around my lips is rosy from the kiss.

  “In the future, do not bite your lip to keep from crying out. If I am hurting you, I want to know it. Do you understand?”

  I nod, afraid my voice won't work, hoping he won't demand a verbal answer. He doesn’t. Instead, he locks my gaze with his as he reaches into his slacks pocket and withdraws a silk scarf.

  “I’m going to blindfold you now.”

  I take a step away, fearful. The blindfold is the one limit I refuse to give an inch on, although Lord Draco is unaware of this limit because last night at the café the topic hadn’t arisen. I shake my head, still unable to voice words. I never allowed Jasper to cover my eyes and he I loved. This man is a total stranger and he hasn't even asked, just assumed.

  His hands come down firmly on my shoulders, holding me in place, commanding, “Relax.”

  “No.” I drop my forehead to his chest, hoping he will understand, hoping he won’t pursue this. “I will not be blindfolded.”

  “You have to trust me, Julia,” he commands in the same velvety seductive voice he used last night in the coffee shop.

  The silk slides over my eyes and is tied before I can protest further.

  “No! Take it off!” I cry out.

  “No, Julia, it's going to stay. Don't make me gag you too.”

  I freeze. Jasper had often gagged me. I don't fear the gag. It is not seeing, not knowing what will come next that is my undoing.

  “Gag me, just please take off the scarf!” I push my head against his chest, pushing the blind with the friction of my face pressed against him, enough to create a sliver of light, a barely there peeking space before he stops me and readjusts the blindfold.