“Heard you had a blow up with Locksley,” she says.
“Gee, word travels fact.”
“Oh, Locks talked to Darkraven last night. I was listening in.”
“Ah, well, you’d think someone would have told me.”
“Told you?”
“That he’s married.”
“Really? I didn’t know.”
She didn’t. She wouldn’t cover for him.
“How about his other subs?”
“Well,” she cocks her head, “he’s always played a lot. But he wasn’t Domming anyone else I knew. Honest. Really, Dana. I’m sorry.”
“Well, he was. I heard it from his lips while I was bound and tied. I assume he didn’t know I could hear the conversation. Maybe he thought I was still passed out. But I wasn’t.”
“Ooo, ugly! Bad Dom.” I could see that he’s going down in her little black book of ‘don’t touch him,’ Doms. “Isn’t that like these guys, who think they can fool around on a sub, and because they are in control they can walk all over a submissive’s feelings?”
I know she’s trying to give me some solace by identifying with my pain, but there is no way it’s going to work. I tell her I have to go to work and split with my latte in hand.
I try to sneak into the office without Benjamin seeing me. He’d know as soon as he saw the dark lines around my eyes that I’m not feeling well. I cried enough to get over three relationships. Fact was, I wasn’t crying over Locksley. This was all about me.
I have no Dom now. No love. Nothing real. And I’m going to be lonely. That’s the worst part, getting lonely when you have no hope for a relationship. Shit! I slump into my desk chair and stare around at my office, purple walls, brightly colored hangings that came from Bangkok and Japan in shades of red and gold—had it done when I realized that Benjamin wouldn’t be coming back—then he comes back. This place really should perk up my depressed spirits, but I’m not ready for being jolly yet.
“Sorry about yesterday. I think I came on too strong.”
I look up and see Benjamin is looking at me kindly from the doorway of my office. I feel the tears returning. Oh, please, not now! Please! I take a breath.
“Thanks. I think this is just going to be a little awkward for a few weeks until we get used to it.” My, that came out sane and simple! I congratulate myself.
“Well, then, let’s just start over. You do what you do best. I do what I can do, and I think we’ll both have reason to be happy.”
“That’s a perfect plan. You always were good at that.” I even smile.
But then he is staring at me, not to be rude, but puzzled. I know what he’s thinking.
“I suppose it’s too much to ask what’s bothering you?” he finally spits it out.
“Bothering me?”
“C’mon, you never could hide your feelings, Dana. Even when I want to ignore what’s going on for you, I can feel it in my gut.”
Well, nothing’s changed about that. I smile thinly. “How’s this for an explanation…” I say as my voice rises with indignant emotion, “I had a Dom, a master, until last night. But I found out he lied to me. I mean really lied, so I broke it off.”
“Oh, wow. Irretrievable damage?”
“Oh, my, yes. Now, Benjamin, please, if you don’t mind, my psyche’s kind of tender.”
“Sure.”
I think he’s going to leave, but he stops, wanting to say something else.
“It was the outfit more than anything, Dana.”
The outfit? I look down, for the first time realizing what I pulled from my closet this morning. Here I’d been noting Ally’s dark clothes, and mine are dark as the night is black, like I’m in mourning…slim black pants, black knee-high boots, and a black leather bustier over a deep purple peasant blouse. The silver jewelry is sedate. Before, when we were lovers, it was a joke between us that I dressed without color when I was sad…. or lonely, or lost and frightened. All those emotions are real now.
“I guess I haven’t changed much, have I?” I didn’t wait for his reply, but swiveled around to face the windows behind me and expect Benjamin to graciously close the door as he leaves. I let the tears run down my cheeks until I finally start work.
Chapter Eight
I try to avoid Benjamin unless I absolutely have to see him for some official reason. It’s not that I’m still mad or can’t be reasonable. It’s the sex, the desire, the submission. It’s all coming back to me. Locksley was a safety valve, a place to put my sexual obsessions and a pretty effective one, I might add. But without him, everything I’ve tried to keep from thinking about Benjamin Hunter has failed.
I’m masturbating more than ever, with thoughts of my former master running through my sexy daydreams. He’s forever coming to the office in my fantasies and demanding my submission just the way he used to—with the same ruthless force I fought against until I finally pushed him away. If only I could have that Benjamin now, I’d do anything he asks. For the moment, my great longing is good mind-candy for a sexual episode. It gets me off and endures at least until I finally let the orgasm play through my body.
I see him early in the day and we speak briefly about my progress on the latest catalog. Then minutes later when I’m alone in my office, I’m pulling my dress up or my pants down right at my desk, having dangerously left the door unlocked. I go straight for my crotch, letting my hand weave its way through my silky pubic hair. I wind it around my fingers and give my sex a hard tug—enough to hurt, enough to make the desire in me leap out and claw my insides raw. I can’t fend off the desire. And the unlocked door? I think I want Benjamin to find me making out with myself. I wonder what he’d do.
It’s been three weeks now. I’m beginning to burn from the inside out from this feverish, unmet need. The longer it goes on, the more I suffer. I can’t have Benjamin around me. He’s all I think about and it hurts too much. I should tell him, but I don’t have the guts. Day after day, I bite my tongue in his presence; then take my fleshy, libidinous thoughts to my private space and squirm on my hands like a gluttonous slut.
I think he knows. I can’t be sure, but sometimes I see him looking at me with the same old eyes. These eyes are all-knowing, all over my skin, blistering me with their knowledge of my mind, my heart, my needy sexuality. Does he want it as much as I do? Isn’t that possible? And if so, why don’t we just admit it and get on with things?
In a moment of sanity away from my masturbations, I know why we don’t get on with things. It’s all too obvious… Colleen. Oh, such a beautiful name! I imagine her either very much like me or very different. I suppose that depends on what was ruling Benjamin when he left me and moved to Seattle. Would he have found my polar opposite because he hated me, or a submissive female with insatiable desires like mine?
I’m intensely curious about this shadowy figure who remains between us. But I’m so jealous of his affection for her, that I could easily rip her guts out.
As we go about our mutual business, I can tell Benjamin’s trying not to rile me.
But, he does. He reminds me of all my flaws and wants, the loose screws, the brain-dead drunkenness of submission, a tongue that bites, a temper that pushes people to the sidelines of my existence where they will linger then leave, and the fear that creeps into my everyday madness. With him, I try to curb those leanings and be the sane, rational woman I’ve never been before.
I’m sure my efforts are wasted. He knows what I’m afraid of—the one person who truly does and that makes him dangerous… maybe I should find another lover.
But I don’t want another lover! I want Benjamin. Dammit, I want my sweet, sexy, sadist master back!
Work gets harder to tolerate. My pace slows, something’s got to give. I know if I don’t perform…I’ll get canned. Not really canned, Tyler can’t do that, but he could replace me; he’s already taken half my responsibilities away and he’ll take away the rest. I’ve got to stop this madness or I’ll lose my work, this company, Benjamin, everything
that matters!
***
I rush into the office, moving through the reception area, giving Sally a nod and then head for my office, thinking I’ve safely maneuvered my way around Benjamin. Soon as the door closes behind me, however, I realize that I’ve been trapped.
“What are you doing in here?”
“Waiting for you.”
“For me?”
“That’s what I said.” It looks as if he’s been snooping around, looking at pictures, moving knickknacks. Some I’m sure he recognizes. There’s even a naked picture of me that Locksley’s friend took of me in the dungeon. You wouldn’t notice it’s a dungeon because the surroundings are blurred. I’m in a crouch, looking up submissively, with eyes black as coal and a hint of worry on my face. Benjamin’s staring at the picture now.
“What do you want?” I place my stuff on my desk.
“I want to know where your head’s at,” he says.
“Gee, last time I felt for it, it was on the top of my head—under my hat.”
I nervously remove the black derby and toss it to the desk. My heart’s starting to pound, my stomach burn, my crotch ache.
This is Benjamin’s doing; he vibrates with that Dommish sort of energy that I’ve been trying to avoid. I really don’t want to avoid it now.
“Don’t get cute,” he says.
“It’s part of my charm,” I smile coyly.
“You’ve been goofing off, Dana.”
“What do you mean, goofing off? My work’s been getting done.”
“No. You missed three deadlines, then told me that the printer had everything in on time.”
“How would you know?”
“I know because the printer called me when he couldn’t get to you.”
My stomach sinks. “Ouch.”
“You have an explanation?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’ve been distraught… the relationship and all, you know my master fucking up. And then you being here, I’m kinda in a tailspin, Benjamin. But it’s all getting done. Trust me.”
“What do you do in here all day?”
If he only knew the truth.
“I guess it’s sort of like writer’s block—some of the time.”
“Well, it’s sort of time to get over the writer’s block. Don’t think I can’t see what’s happening here. You can’t lie. I watch, I wait. I think you’ll snap out of it but you don’t. I’ve been patient, but I’m not patient now.”
“I’m sorry. I’ll get to work right now. I will, I’ll pull through, I will.” Tears are streaming down my cheeks, my legs are weak with fear, and the pounding in my head and heart and crotch turns brutal. I move for my chair with an awkward lurch, hoping I can get there and be safely glued to the seat before I do something really comic like faint.
But Benjamin catches me in his arms and pulls me over his arm. He begins with a hard, cruel smacking on my upturned behind. The force goes right through my clothes and my bottom begins to burn within seconds. It’s not the pain, it’s the reason for it, the need for it, the mutual knowingness that this is the one method that will get me out of my doldrums. I knew he knew, but I didn’t realize it was as bad as it is.
His hand comes down again and again. It’s hard. It’s full of hurt. And then without seeming to miss a beat, he has my skirt up to my waist and is pelting my naked skin with the same hot fire of blows. The ache goes deep, goes very deep. Only a punishment that is deep and hard and ruthless will help me now.
I thrash about, not very effectively. I’m not even screaming for him to stop. I’m not sure I want him to.
“Spread your legs,” he finally orders, and he grabs me about the center with one long fingers inserting itself in my pussy hole. He shakes my sex hard freeing up the climax that was buried there. This is nothing like the ones I give myself. It’s the kind that restores me when all else fails.
My mewling cries rise into the steamy air as the torturous ending floods my body with the most beautiful sexual spasms. Still he shakes the feeling from me. I cum again, crying hard now. Tears stream down my cheeks; my emotions vent like a great tidal wave. The ending bliss lasts for minutes and when it finally dies off, I hate myself.
Oh, my God! How could I become so vulnerable to him again?
I pull up fast and back away into the bookshelves, pulling down my dress to cover my bright red ass. I wipe my face with the back of my arm and try to breathe.
“What gives you the right to do that?” I say with sob.
“I’m a practical man, Dana. Tell me you didn’t need it and I’ll apologize.”
“Oh, damn you!”
“Don’t take it personally. I’m doing it to put you back on track and nothing more. It’s the one thing I know works with you. So straighten up, get to work, or I’ll find my cane.”
“It’s still in the closet,” I stupidly tell him.
He stares at me incredulously. “What?”
“Where you left it.” I’m still snuffing.
He probably wonders why I never destroyed it considering how I hated it. I think he knows why now.
“You need more? You want me to use it now?”
“NO!”
“Good.” He nods, pleased with himself. “It’s a new protocol, Dana. When you fuck up, this is how we solve the problem.
He heads for the door with me speechlessly allowing him to leave.
I am pretty useless the rest of the day, still in shock. But I work all night and have the new catalog finished and on his desk, ready for the printer by 8:00 o’clock the next morning.
I am very close to giving up, as in selling out my part of the business to him and walking off to another life. It is either that, or figure out a way I can live with Benjamin Hunter in my universe. My heart of hearts knows exactly what I want. But do I even have the guts to try?
Chapter Nine
The feisty redhead jumps into his arms at the airport, looking fresh and fun and free of worry. It’s the balm he needs. Something satisfyingly soothing.
“You have me for three long days, Ben Hunter. Take me everywhere. It’s been so long since I’ve been in San Francisco.”
“I’m going to take you to bed first,” he tells her.
“Oooh, yes, maybe we could just stay there all weekend long?” Her eyes light erotically.
“Oh, but I thought you wanted a tour of the city?” He wraps an arm around her as they walk through the terminal.
“Well, I changed my mind.” She smiles, her eyes glassed over. He’s never seen her like this, like she’s very sad and won’t admit it.
“What’s wrong?”
“I just miss you and… well, I worry.”
“About what?”
“The city has lots of attractions.”
“I invited you here, didn’t I? Because I wanted you as my main attraction. Now you’re acting strangely insecure and that’s not like you.”
Of course, it’s not like her, but she doesn’t say anymore.
They lie in bed in each other’s arms for a long time. They’re naked, kissing, being close. Lovingly, longing. Then she feels the erection that was slow in coming begin to press against her leg. A moment later, he rolls her over on her back and straddles her hips. His hardness makes contact with her and she breathes in the air of his domination.
His hips rise slightly; he parts her sex with his hand and lets the head of his hardened prick linger at the opening of her vagina for a few teasing seconds, then he shoves forward and falls into her willingness. Her eyes close as if she’s found her heaven, all she needs. But he forces them open, saying:
“Look at me.”
They gaze at each other as he reaches for her hands. Holding them in his, he begins to thrust inside her body, pinning her hands on either side of her head effectively immobilizing her. He fucks her this way, staring into her eyes, thinking if he does this he won’t bring thoughts of Dana to his mind. He stares at her with dutiful persistence, while she stares back with wonder and love.
“Ah, yesssssssssssss,” she hisses. Her back arches with her breasts lifting upwards, seeking, filled with want.
How beautiful! Utterly perfect she is in his eyes, as he admires her moment of sexual climax.
But maybe too perfect. Too together. Too understanding and wise. He hates to think this way, because he does love Colleen dearly.
They lie side by side again, just as they might if they were recuperating from the wild explosion of a raunchy scene, or an hour-long feast of sex. The sex wasn’t quite like that this time, but much more subtle and respectful.
That’s hardly the way to have a passionate love affair.
“It’s all coming back, isn’t it?” Colleen finally breaks the silence.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean Dana.” She plays with his fingers as their hands remain lightly intertwined between them.
“She’s poison,” he says.
“She’s a woman in love with you,” Colleen comes right back.
“Aren’t you a woman in love with me?” He turns on his side and stares at her chest where the swell of her breasts rise and fall with her breath. Her dark nipples are flattened now against the surface. He runs his finger in a circle around one and sees it begin to tighten. But she stops him, turning on her side.
“I think I’m love with the persona, with the submission,” Colleen answers thoughtfully. “I like all of that. And I like you. But I don’t want to get in the way of your love.”
“My love!”
“You’ve been a haunted man ever since I’ve known you. It’s really time we stopped denying it.”
A Master For A Desperate Slave Page 9