Great, so now she thought I was paranoid? A weirdo for expecting her to grill me about her wall art?
“Why don’t you have any personal pictures, even on your desk?”
“I prefer to leave my personal life outside this room. After all, you’re paying me for my time, to focus on you. It would be inappropriate for us to spend that time on my life.”
“That’s bullshit. It’s your office. You can have whatever pictures you want on your desk. I want to know why I should bring my personal stuff into this room if you’re going to hold yours back?”
Dr. Beckett pursed her lips before she spoke again. “There is another part to it. Do you know what projection is?”
“I think so.”
“In psychodynamic therapy, the therapist acts as a blank slate. That way the patient can project his own issues onto the therapist or into the therapeutic relationship.”
“Sounds like more mumbo jumbo.”
A smile played around her lips, but she didn’t respond.
“I don’t have anything to talk about this week. I’m working on getting my life back to normal. Starting to see what the future may be like. I intend to make music my focus.
Dr. Beckett nodded. “I understand. Well, if you don’t know what to talk about, and we have about forty-five minutes left … I’d like you to tell me about something.”
“What’s that?”
“You told me that you lied to your girlfriend for several months by asking her to go along with you sharing her as a submissive with another Dom, and when she did, you yourself were pretending to be that other Dom.”
I shifted in my chair.
“So, essentially you catfished her.”
I nodded.
“I want to know what that was like for you.”
“Complicated.”
“I’ll bet. I’d like you to talk about what it was like to be BA.” Dr. Beckett sat across from me—judging me. Or at least that’s how it felt.
For a brief moment I considered being difficult and asking her why, but that would only prolong this torture.
“It was easy.”
“What was easy about it?”
“There were no expectations. No worries about the future, or where things were heading. I could just be there, in the moment, enjoying the session.”
“Tell me about ‘BA.’ How does he compare to your other persona, ‘MC’?”
Oh God, now she was making me sound crazy, like I had multiple personalities or something. Maybe that was the nature of the beast. They say if you go see a surgeon he’s going to want to cut, because that’s what they do. Go to a shrink, she’ll see you as The United States of Tara or Sybil.
“I guess BA was a little younger, a bit more carefree. I even made him immature at times.”
Dr. Beckett stroked her chin. “I wonder why.”
“I think I wanted to test Sophie. See if she would actually do some of the ridiculous things BA asked her to do.”
“And did she?”
I nodded. “Yes, she was compliant with everything.”
I remembered back to the sessions she and I had as BA.
The first task I’d sent her had been rather clinical, and she hadn’t liked it. In fact, she disliked it so much that she told me, Quentin, how bad it was. As Quentin I’d tried to reassure her, encourage her it would get better. It had felt dishonest at first, lying to her, but I quickly got used to it.
When, as BA, I asked her to do that phone task where she was supposed to fuck herself and then call different businesses on the phone and ask them if they had any “bearded alpha” (which was what I told her BA stood for.) I was shocked that she actually carried out the task. There had been a time requirement so she was supposed to keep the person on the phone for a certain number of minutes. The whole thing was juvenile, like a prank call with a dildo. Immature as hell. But she didn’t question it.
“How did that make you feel that she went along with all his tasks?”
“I guess I had mixed feelings. On one hand I was impressed that she did the things he asked, but at the same time a part of me wanted her to question him.”
“Question him how?”
“I guess I wanted her to realize that those things were stupid and ask more questions. Delve into him and his motives more.”
“I see. Were you frustrated after her training with you she wasn’t more sophisticated? Maybe you thought you should have taught her better?”
“No.”
“Were you worried that if she was such an easy mark for an immature or inexperienced Dom that she would do that offline and find herself in a bad situation?”
“No …”
Dr. Beckett sat silently, waiting.
When I didn’t say anything for several minutes, she said, “What do you think was behind those mixed feelings?”
“I really don’t know.”
“I’m wondering if jealousy could be a part of the equation.”
“No, that’s not it.”
“Okay.”
She resumed her quiet observation of me.
My mind searched, but I couldn’t quite put my finger on what had troubled me about the way Sophie had so readily acquiesced to BA’s requests. I could feel myself about to uncover it. It was that same feeling you get when you can’t remember the name of a song, and then in a rush it finally comes to you.
“I know why it bothered me.”
Dr. Beckett regarded me with interest.
“I wanted her to ask more questions. I wanted her to figure out it was me. In fact, I was somewhat peeved with her that she didn’t.”
“Fascinating.”
“Yeah. I wanted her to see through me.”
“You wanted her to see through your facade and discover the real you.”
Scrunching up my face, I answered, “I guess so.”
“I want you to think about that this week, Quentin. I believe that’s a real breakthrough for you.”
“Oh really? Why is that?”
“Because it’s the first time you’ve admitted to wanting to let anyone in. To allow them to see the real you.”
Uncrossing my arms, I allowed her words to sink in. She was right that I didn’t like to let anyone get close to me. I feared something bad would happen to them, and I couldn’t bear the pain again. No, I couldn’t let that happen again. But with Sophie, there was something deep inside me that cried out for her to see the real me. And it scared the hell out of me.
“You really love this woman.”
“Yes. Yes, I do.”
That fact didn’t seem to make a difference to Sophie, but God help me it was true.
12
Quentin
“It’s going to be a long flight,” I told Kate.
“Not a problem, boss. I’ve never been to Hawaii. I’m really looking forward to it.”
I bought first class tickets for Kate and myself. My long legs could not do coach anymore. I’d considered having Kate sit back there, but I couldn’t bring myself to be that big of a dick. I was going to need her on my side. Better to keep her happy.
Somehow I’d been left on the guest list for Shelby’s wedding. Imagine my excitement when I received my invitation in the mail, and not long after that an invitation to join a Facebook group for all the attendees with a schedule of all of the events surrounding the nuptials. I guess when your guest list numbers in the hundreds you forget to remove some people. I wasn’t foolish enough to think that Sophie actually wanted me there now, but it probably hadn’t occurred to her to ask Shelby to cross me off the list. Either that or it was a detail that slipped through the cracks.
Thanks to the access I had to the schedule, we knew where the bridesmaids would be most of the time. We had a bead on the bachelorette party, and details about the wedding. We even knew all about Shelby’s honeymoon plans for her and Bryan to hop on over to Maui for a few days.
Shelby’s security people should really be fired for letting her and her friends tell the worl
d about their plans, but that wasn’t my concern. My only concern was Sophie and the little bundle of cells growing in her lovely tummy. I booked a room at the same hotel as the wedding party, and in order to ensure the success of the trip, I paid for Kate to accompany me. She’d been an invaluable ally to me so far, plus I’d stand out less if it looked like I was traveling with a companion. Plus, she could go places I couldn’t. Kate could hide in a bathroom stall, ask to borrow a tampon, or any number of “immediate girl bonding” things that my having a penis would disallow.
Kate also made me accountable. If she knew what I was up to I was less likely to go completely off the reservation. Yes, I’d hired myself something of a babysitter, but it was probably the one move I’d be making on this trip that my therapist might actually approve of.
The flight was uneventful, and when we arrived Kate was overjoyed when a trio of Hawaiian beauties met us at the end of the runway with floral leis they placed over our heads along with kisses for each cheek.
“Aloha!” the raven-haired beauties said in unison, and Kate would have taken a dozen selfies with them if I hadn’t shut her down.
We boarded a hotel shuttle, then checked into the hotel where Shelby’s wedding was to take place. It was a luxurious resort, and I had to give Shelby props for picking such a lovely location. The first night we attended a luau, complete with fire dancers and hula girls, along with Hawaiian music and a Don Ho impersonator singing Tiny Bubbles.
As we sat in our chairs I grew more and more impatient. Shelby and Sophie and the rest of her friends were supposed to be at this show. It had said so on their itinerary. Where were they?
I was dying to see if Sophie was showing yet. It had been too long since I’d seen her. I was dying for a fix.
The longer we waited, the more impatient I became.
But then there she was. My beautiful darling girl. She and her friends sat down at a table on the other side of the venue. I switch seats with Kate so that there would be no way Sophie could see me. Of course she wasn’t looking for me so that made things a lot easier. And she’d never met Kate before so there was no possibility that she would recognize her.
For the rest of the performance Kate reported back to me what Sophie and her friends were doing. It mostly consisted of drinking fruity drinks from glasses the size of fishbowls.
“She’s drinking?”
“Actually, it looks like she’s just having fruit juice. Her drinks are a different color than the other girls. Hers is yellow. Maybe pineapple juice? Theirs are either red or blue.”
“Thank God! Tell me no one is smoking over there.”
“They’re not.”
“Good.” I drank more than my fair share of fishbowl-sized drinks that night myself. Pitiful I know, but I wasn’t above drowning my sorrows, and I sure as hell wasn’t pregnant.
I should have been there by Sophie’s side. If I hadn’t fucked it all up, I would be here as her date. Not her stalker.
Over the next few days, with Kate’s help, I watched over Sophie from afar. I got pretty good at tracking her every move and not being seen. Kate thought I was insane, but she was polite about it. I don’t think she wanted to jeopardize her stay in Hawaii, so she mostly did as I asked and kept her mouth shut.
I watched Shelby’s wedding through a pair of binoculars from one of the hotel rooms. I’d had to switch rooms to get that view. It was a pain in the ass, and I had to make up a fake report of mouse droppings under my sink to make it happen, but turned out to be worth it to watch Sophie walk down the aisle. She wore a sky-blue dress, and even though I was far away, I thought I saw a small baby bump when the wind whipped her dress tight against her stomach.
Kate commented that Sophie looked lovely. She told me the dress was chiffon, but I just knew it was blue and she looked radiant. Pregnancy agreed with her.
Shelby and Bryan looked good too. And I took some notes on features I liked about their wedding, since I was going to be planning my own wedding day pretty soon.
Seeing how happy the bride and groom looked, I couldn’t help but want that to be me and Sophie someday soon. Hopefully the wedding was putting her in a similar mindset.
Wait, weren’t weddings supposed to make women horny? Maybe that was funerals, but surely weddings made single pregnant women think about their futures. The idea almost made me want to go downstairs and crash the reception.
Sophie was going to be surprised when she saw me, and hopefully her friend’s nuptials will have put her in a romantic, even a domesticated frame of mind. Because what I had in store for her was going to blow her mind.
13
Sophie
Visiting Pearl Harbor had been amazing, a touching and surreal experience. The wind whipped my hair around, and I pushed it out of my face. I looked over the side of the boat that had taken our tour group to the site of the memorial. On the way out we’d seen some porpoises playing in the ocean, so I kept my eyes peeled for more. They were so graceful as they jumped out of the water and dove back in pairs. Their antics seemed a reflection of pure joy. Perhaps it was that way because there was usually more than one.
Today that struck me as unusually poignant because I’d been feeling lonely. Odd when I was carrying another human being around inside of me, but there it was.
I’ll bet Quentin would have enjoyed seeing Pearl Harbor. There was a seriousness and a depth to him that made me think he would have found it inspiring somehow. Who knows, he might have composed something magnificent after having stood in the place where such tragedy occurred, and from where our soldiers and our country drew courage. It might be just the thing, since he was working on the score for a war movie.
There were so many times during the day when I thought of something I wanted to tell Quentin, something I wanted to share with him. But then I remembered—he’s no longer a part of my life. It was depressing, but whenever I grew tearful I blamed the pregnancy and tried to eat something. Unless I was nauseated, and then I tried not to throw up.
The other girls in the wedding party hadn’t wanted to come. One girl had shown mild interest last night, but begged off this morning blaming a hangover. I hadn’t been to Hawaii since I was four years old and I didn’t even remember that, but since I didn’t get to the islands very often I wanted to take advantage of the opportunity to visit one of our most famous historical national monuments. I’d always liked history. Probably the teacher in me.
And it had been incredible. The still quiet of the place spoke with the silent voices of the thousands who perished there.
Now, on the way back to the hotel, back to Shelby and her partying friends, loneliness crept into my heart and I promised myself I wouldn’t cry.
It was the hormones. Had to be.
Never in my life had the possibility occurred to me that I’d become a single mother.
I’d been raised that people got married before they had children, and when I’d been married, the children never came. That was actually a blessing since my marriage had been unhappy for the most part.
But now that I was pregnant, the father of my child and I were estranged. He said he wanted me back, but I wasn’t ready to entertain that possibility. As controlling as the man was, I wasn’t ready to tell him until I figured out some things.
I waited until about a month after we broke up before I considered getting back out there—dating. I probably wasn’t ready, but it made me so sad to sit around my house moping all the time, that I decided to try to have some fun.
But my relationship with Quentin had been so much more than girlfriend-boyfriend. It had been Dominant/submissive. And after I’d experienced that I worried I wouldn’t be happy with a more vanilla partner, so I tried to meet some men through the Internet site where I’d met Quentin.
What a disaster that had been!
The first guy who reached out to me insisted that we meet at his house, which he kept calling his “lair.” When I refused and told him I wanted to meet in public the first time he unleashed a
diatribe on me that basically amounted to him calling me worthless, and me blocking him on every possible channel.
The next guy was young, handsome, and willing to meet at a coffee shop. The fact that he was almost ten years younger than me made me nervous, and while I couldn’t see it turning into anything long term, I was interested in a possible play session with him.
As we sat at a table in the coffee shop, sipping our drinks, the conversation floundered. I could tell he didn’t want to get too personal, but I had to admit I found myself attracted to his wavy blond hair, dreamy blue eyes, and his hard, young body. Just as I was starting to warm up to the idea of taking things further, he asked if I wanted to go to his car and give him a blowjob.
I looked at him like he was nuts. “Your car? Right now, in broad daylight?”
“Yeah.” He shrugged.
“That wasn’t exactly what I had in mind.”
So that encounter ended before it really began.
The third person I had contact with on the site sent me a gnarly dick pic after we’d exchanged two messages. At that point I gave up.
The entire experience made me realize how special what Quentin and I had was. And how lucky I’d been to find him, a thoughtful and caring Dom, in a sea of people with either poor social skills or who were only out for themselves.
A nagging voice in the back of my head told me I shouldn’t throw away something as rare and precious as what I’d found with Quentin. But as good as things had been most of the time, he’d shown me that I couldn’t trust him.
How could I possibly raise a child with a man who deceived me for months?
No, my baby and I would be just fine—the two of us. He or she would be better company once he was on the outside of my uterus. Only five more months to go …
Settling my hand on my belly, I peered over the railing again hoping for a glimpse of another porpoise.
14
Claimed by Her Web Master (Web Master #3) Page 6