Hard Lessons (The Hardest Word)

by Ashe Barker

  By two o’clock my stomach is in knots and I’m seriously regretting that chicken baguette. It must be soon, whatever he has planned. He said this afternoon. Sure enough, it’s about two fifteen when I hear his footsteps approaching the door to the dining room. I stand as he enters, pulling my kimono more tightly around me. I haven’t seen much point in dressing as I’ve no intention of going out. I just took a shower after breakfast and pulled my trusty robe back on.

  Nick, by contrast, is fully dressed in black jeans and a soft, cream-colored sports shirt. In fact, unless I’m very much mistaken, it’s the same shirt he was wearing that first time I met him at the club. I shudder—this seems ominous somehow.

  “Freya. It’s time.” His voice is cool, clipped.

  He’s in Dom mode, and despite my nervousness I can’t help the quiver of excitement that ripples through me. That tone might scare me to death sometimes, but it never fails to turn me on.

  “Go to the dungeon and wait there. I want you naked, obviously, and kneeling on the mat when I come in. I’ll be about half an hour.” He steps to the side of the door, his arm outstretched to indicate that I’m to go through it now.

  And I know I really don’t want to. “Can’t I wait here? It won’t take me long to get ready.”

  His eyes narrow and he watches me squirm. Then, “Is there some part of ‘go to the dungeon’ that’s not entirely clear to you, Freya?” His tone has dropped a few degrees from cool to icy.

  I know not to push it. I nod, sign my apology, and slip past him.

  * * * *

  Half an hour later I’m kneeling on the bright yellow mat, scene of my first near disaster in this room. I’m hoping it won’t be the scene of my next one, but I do have a bad feeling. The one thing I cling to, my one certainty, is Nick. I trust him, so I know I’ll be safe. I may not be happy, but I will be safe.

  As instructed, I’m naked. I left my robe neatly folded on the floor just inside the dungeon, by the door. My hair is loose, the way Nick seems to like it. At least, whenever I turn up for a scene with it tied back he immediately loosens it. My hands are on my thighs, palms up in the traditional submissive pose he taught me. My chain is still looped around my waist, of course, but I haven’t been conscious of it for days until now. I even managed to forget it was there the day we went to the racecourse. Now it feels like a brand against my skin.

  I concentrate on deep breathing, my eye on the clock mounted on the wall beside the door. It wasn’t there the first time I was here, when I totally panicked and was convinced I’d been abandoned in here for hours on end. The clock had appeared the next day, and now I’m watching the minute hand creep around. He said half an hour, so he’ll be here by around quarter to three. I watch the hand crawl past the half hour, then it seems to speed up in that peculiar way time has. And at exactly quarter to three the door opens and Nick comes in.

  And he’s not alone. Jesus, he’s brought someone else here too.

  Daniel.

  I make to get up, my first instinct to cover myself.

  “Stay where you are.” Nick’s command is curt. Unrelenting.

  I remain rigidly in place, dropping my gaze to the floor. My heart is pounding as Nick closes the door behind them with a resounding click. From the corner of my eye I can see that Daniel remains by the door as Nick comes forward to crouch in front of me. My head is whirling with possibilities, each more awful than the one before. It’s clear that he intends Daniel to be a part of this scene too, and really, I know I shouldn’t be so upset. There’s no need to be. Daniel’s nice, I like him. Or I would in any other circumstance. But I don’t want to submit to him. Nick’s my Master, only Nick.

  Nick must be able to see the blind panic in my expression, the desperation. He reaches out, lays his palm on my cheek.

  “Don’t look so scared. Nothing’s going to happen that you haven’t done before and enjoyed. Only this time you’ll be scening with a different Dom.”

  I’m shaking my head, but he’s having none of that. “Freya, we’ve talked about this, and you need to get past this, this belief of yours that you can only scene with me. That just isn’t true. Listen to me. Listen carefully and think about what I’m telling you.”

  His tone is soft. It should be reassuring, but I’m beyond any help in that regard. He continues, his voice quiet, his hand on my cheek as he holds my gaze.

  “When you came to me, when you first approached me, it was because you were too scared to scene with Doms you didn’t know, which was all Doms as far as I can make out, because of your inability to speak. You thought that made you vulnerable, that you’d be hurt because you couldn’t negotiate, couldn’t use safe words. Is that right?” He stops, waits for my response, but all I can do is stare at him through my tears.

  His words aren’t registering—nothing he’s saying makes sense to me. How could he do this? How could he just hand me over like this, as if I mean nothing to him? Probably because I do mean exactly that to him. Nothing. My misery is etched on my face, and I can see what looks like a fair imitation of compassion in his eyes, but it’s not going to deflect him from his course.

  And for once, despite asking me a direct question, he doesn’t insist on an answer. He continues his explanation, his justification for this madness.

  “I’ve given you tools to use, safe signals, lots of them. I’ve helped you to explore your desires and preferences, so now you know what you like and what you don’t like. You know how to behave, how to avoid unnecessary punishment. And most important of all, you know how to stop a scene if you need to. But in doing that I’ve allowed you to become too dependent on me. You’ve become convinced that you can only do this stuff with me, and as your trainer I have to get you to see that your safety, ultimately, is in your hands, not mine. Do you understand that?”

  Again I shake my head. I don’t understand any of this. I’m aware of Daniel, motionless by the door, and I wish he wasn’t here listening to this. I wish he wasn’t here full stop, but in particular I don’t want him to think this is personal. I do like him, really I do. And if I hadn’t met Nick first, who knows? But not now. Definitely not now.

  “I can’t. Please don’t force me to do this,” I sign my desperate response, ready to plead now.

  Nick smiles sadly, his sympathy for my situation apparent. He’s not cruel, and I know he genuinely thinks this is best for me, the best way to resolve my apparent fixation with him. His resolve is unswerving.

  “I’ve never forced you to do anything and I won’t now. You can always say no, you always could. But I’m asking you to do this, to obey me. You asked me to train you, begged me to help you develop your submissive nature. What’s happening here, now, is at the heart of all I’ve been trying to teach you. It’s time to start to move on, Freya.”

  I’m shaking my head, and I know my tears are flowing freely. Nick pulls me into his chest and gives me a quick hug before taking my face between his hands again.

  “You can trust me—you will be safe with Dan. You know him, I think you like him, yes?”

  I nod, but in no way could my response be mistaken for agreement to this scheme. Every nerve ending of mine is on edge, every muscle tensed. I’m so focused on Nick that I’ve even managed to disregard my natural modesty and ignore the fact that I’m kneeling in the middle of the room naked while another man is in the room watching, listening, looking at me. Nothing matters to me now apart from convincing my Master not to hand me over.

  “You don’t have to fuck Dan unless you choose to. That’s up to you—you’ll be under no pressure. The presumption is that you won’t, and that’s fine. I’ve explained to him what your signals are so he’ll be able to understand and respond. He knows the sorts of games you like best, and your scene will be based on fun, on giving you pleasure. It’s up to him how he does that, of course, but I’ve given him plenty of clues. Even so, he might still have a couple of nice surprises for you. This isn’t meant to be an ordeal—we’re not concentrating on pain play here.
It’s enough for me that you agree to do this, and that you submit for Dan just as you have been for me. So, Freya, will you do this?”

  There seems to be no hope of Nick relenting. The prospect of defeat starts to crawl into my head. I fall back on negotiating what I can.

  “Will you be here, watching?” Even as my hands form the words I can’t believe I’m actually asking that. What does it matter? There’ll be nothing to watch. How could there be?

  “I can stay if you want. Or not. That’s up to you, Freya. But there’s a camera in the room, as you know. So yes, I will be watching.”

  “I don’t want to do this. Please. Please don’t ask me to do this.” My tears are flowing unchecked and I’m starting to shiver despite the pleasant temperature in the room. It’s not that I’m scared of Daniel physically—I believe every word Nick has told me about no pain play and Daniel understanding my safe signals. But emotionally this is going to wreck me. Even if I do agree, even if I do manage, somehow, to go through with this travesty, I’ll never be able to forgive either one of us. Nick for making me do it, and me for agreeing.

  “I’m not asking you, Freya, I’m telling you. I want you to obey me, and I want you to do it now. If you have questions, I’ll answer them, but if not, it’s time to get on with the scene.”

  His tone is low, but his voice is all Dom as he rams the final nail in my emotional coffin. He straightens now, gets to his feet. I tilt my head back to maintain eye contact. His head is tilted, one eyebrow raised as he waits for my response. Obey, or refuse. But I know that refusal effectively means the end of my training. So, what choice do I have really? I close my eyes, unable to bear to look at him as I nod my agreement.

  I hear Daniel’s footsteps as he strolls over to where I’m still kneeling on the mat. I haven’t opened my eyes, but I never heard Nick leave so I’m sure he’s still here too. I sign two words to him, “Please stay.” I have no idea why I want Nick to remain in the dungeon while this is happening—maybe because I’m hoping that somewhere, deep down, his heart isn’t really in it and he’ll call the whole horrible show off. Eternal optimist, that’s me.

  “Are you afraid of me, Freya?” The next voice I hear isn’t Nick agreeing to stay, it’s Dan.

  I turn to look up at him, and I’m pleased, grateful even, to note that his eyes are on mine, on my face. He’s not ogling the rest of me although I have no doubt that he’s looked his fill while he’s been patiently waiting his turn. Still, he’s not being too obvious about it. And I don’t want him to think I’m sobbing like a baby because of anything he’s done. At least, not yet.

  “No! I like you.”

  He can understand my head shake, but Nick helpfully interprets the rest.

  He smiles at me, his expression warm and slightly sad. “Good. I hoped it wasn’t me causing all this grief. So, you like me, eh? But…you’re in love with him.” He flicks his eyes at Nick, who is struggling to contain his irritation now.

  “For fuck’s sake! She thinks she’s in love with me…”

  Unmoved by Nick’s exasperation Daniel just shrugs. “Yeah, well I think so too, so you’re outvoted, mate. Though I have absolutely no idea at all what she sees in you. You’re a prat.”

  I’m looking from one to the other, not sure now which of them I need to appeal to, to put a stop to all this madness. I’d been so sure that it was Nick I needed to convince, when all the time Daniel was obviously watching, listening and coming to his own conclusions. Both Doms need to agree to this, and it seems at least one of them is having second thoughts. I wish it had been Nick calling a halt, but my gratitude to Daniel is profound in this moment. And now he’s calling Nick a prat. Not quite the word I’d have chosen, but near enough. Nick looks furious, but to my relief his anger is directed at Daniel, not me.

  Daniel looks unimpressed, amused even. He doesn’t give Nick any further opportunity to comment before handing me my robe. I never saw him pick it up, but he must have because he had brought it over with him.

  Turning back to Nick, he continues, “And that does rather change things, I’d say. She’ll do this because you’ve instructed her to. She adores you, so she’ll obey you. Whatever you ask her to do. But it’s clear to me, from all I’m hearing and seeing here, that she’s not just a trainee sub needing practice and a bit of variety. This is much more than that. And if I did what you asked, if I let you force this issue, you, my friend, my stupid and pig-headed friend, would not thank me for this in days to come.”

  Daniel turns back to me. “And you look to me as though you’d prefer to be anywhere but here right now. You can leave if you like. This scene’s not going to happen. Pity, though, I’d have enjoyed you, little Freya. Maybe some other time…” His gentle smile belies the words. There will be no other time.

  I look to Nick for his permission. Regardless of anything Dan might say, Nick is Master here and I can’t leave unless he allows it. He nods, briefly, and I get to my feet fast before he changes his mind. Remembering my manners I bow my head to each Dom, and I leave.

  I close the door of the dungeon behind me then make my way down the hallway toward the bedroom. I can hear Nick and Dan talking, but mercifully their voices are not raised. I reach the bedroom and rush inside, closing the door behind me so I can’t hear them anymore.

  Chapter Eleven

  I hear Dan leave after about ten minutes, and I’m expecting Nick to appear at the bedroom door. I have no idea at all what to say to him, or what he’ll have to say to me. I didn’t want to do as he asked, I pleaded with him not to insist on it, but I couldn’t dissuade him. So I agreed. I did agree, and I would have gone through with it. He can’t blame me for the scene not continuing. Can he?

  Maybe if I’d managed to hide my feelings, maybe if I’d looked a little happier with the prospect of letting Dan touch me, spank me, do whatever he had in mind for me. If I’d managed to look even slightly less distraught that might have swung it. Then Nick would have got his way and he’d be satisfied now, convinced that I’m a good little submissive. Instead…

  I’m wondering what Dan said after I left, whether he managed to get Nick to see that my feelings just might be genuine. If so that’s good, surely it must be good, though I can’t help but feel resentful that he needed to hear it from someone other than me before he accepted it. That’s if he did accept it, of course. He might just think that both Dan and I are delusional romantics looking for a happy ever after that simply isn’t there.

  But I’m letting my imagination run away with me. I’ve no idea what was said. I just have to wait here until he’s ready to talk to me.

  Except, I don’t.

  It suddenly occurs to me that Nick never told me to wait here. He just said I could leave the dungeon, but didn’t specify where I was to go. There’s nothing to stop me going to him now, offering my apology, accepting a punishment if need be, and maybe we can put it behind us. Sort of. Until the next time he tries to prove his point. I shudder at that thought, but at least next time I won’t be taken by surprise. Maybe I can manage it, if I have to. Surely.

  Yeah, right.

  Unable to bear the waiting any longer I decide to take matters into my own hands for once and go looking for Nick.

  I find him in the kitchen, staring into his coffee as it sits cooling in his cup. I hover by the door, think about knocking, but he hears me or senses I’m there and glances up immediately. He gestures to an empty chair opposite him at the table, and I slip into it. I’m still wearing just my robe, and I suddenly wish I’d taken the time to get dressed. I’d have felt less vulnerable. Still, it’s too late now.

  Nick looks at me and shakes his head. “Don’t look so scared, Freya. I’m not angry with you. I handled that badly—it was my fault, not yours.”

  Oh thank God. Maybe now we can put all this nonsense out of our heads and get on with…

  “I should have explained beforehand what was going to happen so you’d have been prepared for when Dan arrived.”

  …Or not.<
br />
  He fixes me with a sideways glare, his eyebrows lowered. For a Dom who insists he’s not angry he’s doing a fair impression.

  “So, Dan’s convinced you are in love with me. That still your story as well?”

  I nod. And manage not to apologize for it though my hands start to form the words before I can stop them.

  He’s not looking at me anyway, still intent on watching his coffee cool. He goes on as though I never started to say anything. “That was never supposed to happen. I should have seen it coming, I suppose, and managed to stop it somehow. Or maybe I should never have agreed to train you in the first place.”

  Yeah, like either of those would have worked. From what I know, love isn’t so easy to control. Unlike desperate submissives, who are terrified of being dumped. I wait for the bombshell I now know is not far off. The light at the end of the tunnel, but this time it’s a train coming. I don’t have to wait for long.

  “I like you, Freya, you know that. I’ve enjoyed having you here, despite the mess you make in my dining room. You’re sexy and responsive, and the most fun in my dungeon I’ve had in a long time. But I don’t want a long-term relationship. Long term—I live alone and that’s how I like it. That’s how I want it.”

  I try to gather some dignity, assert some sense of independence. “I’m not asking to move in. I have my own flat. I don’t mind living alone if that’s what you prefer.” Despite my efforts at self-possession I know I’m sounding pathetic now, but I can’t seem to help it.

  He shakes his head. “It’s more than that. You’re much too young for me, a little rich girl. Very sweet, absolutely gorgeous, but we’re just not compatible. Other than the kinky sex—I grant you there’s no problem in that regard. Oh, and I love your taste in cars. And underwear.”