Safe Haven

by Red Phoenix

The guys look away, unwilling to look me in the eye—all except Grapes, who is fuming.

  I glare back at him. “If anyone has a problem with me writing to my little brother, be sure to see me outside so we can discuss it.”

  I despise having my private thoughts shared with everyone, but I keep my cool as I smooth out the letter and start copying it onto another piece of paper.

  Grapes is in a foul mood the next day and takes out his frustration on me by purposely disobeying the Drill Sergeant’s orders. I know what he’s doing, and I will not lose to that prick. Every time we get punished, I make sure I am the first one done, which only infuriates Grapes more.

  The entire squad feels the pain when the Drill Sergeant starts dishing out the punishment to the group to force him to fall in line. Nobody likes Grapes by the end of the day but, being his buddy, I get the heat too.

  Several of the guys surround me in the barracks. “You should fucking let him win so we can be done with this. What does it matter, anyway?”

  “It matters to me, damn it! I’m not the one getting in trouble, but I’m the one paying for it. The only recourse I have is to beat him.”

  “But you know it pisses him off, and now you’re getting us involved too.”

  “I didn’t come to the Army to baby another recruit’s ego. He’s the one you have problems with, so go deal with him.”

  “But your need to win is causing this,” another insists.

  “What do you think will happen if I suddenly let him beat me now? You think he’ll be satisfied? No, it’ll only make things worse. Trust me.”

  “What are you going to do about it?” Jackson asks me after they leave unsatisfied.

  “There’s only one thing I can do.” I walk up to Grapes and point at the door. “You. Me. Now.”

  We exit the barracks quietly. The other men know this is going to be a good fight, but they stay put, unwilling to risk further punishment.

  I head to the side of the building where we won’t be seen and face him. I speak in a low whisper, so we won’t be heard, “I’m ready to knock some sense into that thick skull of yours.”

  Grapes doesn’t waste a second and throws a punch. I easily block it and follow up with a side jab. His eyes flash with rage as he turns to face me, matching my low tone in order to avoid detection. “You want me out, but you don’t get to fuck with my life, asshole.”

  “You bet I do, but now I’m stuck with you because our drill sergeant has a sick sense of humor.”

  He snorts. “Yeah, I see the way you suck up to him. Don’t think the rest of us haven’t noticed.”

  “If following commands is your idea of sucking up, then yes, I’m guilty.”

  His expression turns ugly. “Everything you say is bullshit. Is that why your family doesn’t write back?”

  I hit him square in the face.

  “Hit a nerve, did I?” He grins, rubbing his chin.

  “Nobody writes you either, prick, and I bet it has something to do with your winning personality.”

  Grapes throws another punch, but I dart out of the way. I’ve sparred plenty of times with my father and I’m confident in my ability to fight.

  He starts walking around me slowly like a predatory animal looking for his chance to strike. “Noticed you didn’t mention a father in that letter. Is that because Daddy split the scene when you appeared? I bet he did.”

  “This isn’t about my family, prick,” I hiss.

  “Maybe your father killed himself and you’re the reason why.”

  Even though I know he’s trying to provoke me, I take a swing. He blocks it and follows through with a solid hit to my gut.

  I back away and start bouncing on the balls of my feet as I move side to side, suddenly realizing I might have a real fight on my hands. This could be good. I need to release my pent-up anger, and it appears Grapes is offering himself up as a sacrifice.

  “I bet your father wishes you were dead,” he says.

  I narrow my eyes, his words hitting a little too close to home. Waiting for my opening, I deliver another punch to his face and watch him stagger from the impact.

  “You’re easy to read…” he tells me with a grin, wiping the blood from his face.

  “Not as easy as you are to hit.” I give him a quick jab to the ribs.

  Grapes isn’t light on his feet, so he lowers his head and barrels straight at me, throwing me to the ground. After a couple of hits to the face, I’m back on my feet.

  I love the adrenaline rush and goad him further. “I bet you’ve failed at everything you’ve tried.”

  Grapes snarls ominously. Once we finally connect, it gets brutal. I take my rage against my father out on him, while he unleashes his fury against the world on me.

  We are so focused on each other, we don’t realize we’ve been spotted by a passing Drill Instructor. He immediately breaks the fight up and we are ordered to return to our barracks to await punishment.

  We both know it will be harsh.

  However, as we stand there waiting, with our faces bloody and bruised, a feeling of comradery prevails—and in that moment, we become friends.

  New Friend

  Candy

  I sit in class, trying to keep my eyes open, but algebra is horrifically boring.

  Even in a college setting, being taught by a real professor, can’t make those numbers any more interesting. Part of me regrets taking this class, but I need the routine to fill up the empty hours of my life.

  I’m taking basic courses my first year of college—the ones I know I can pass without trying. It doesn’t matter if I learn something or not, because the classes help me not to mourn Ethan’s death every second of every day.

  I’ve chosen a college out of state, away from the memories that threaten to swallow me whole. It hasn’t been easy on my dad, but Mom has returned to the land of the living. With me out of the house, they can live a normal life—and I can begin a new one.

  The day I made the decision to leave, I cut my hair short and dyed it blonde. It’s the physical embodiment of this fresh start, and I’ve even gone a step further by legally changing my name in honor of Ethan.

  Nobody knows why I changed my name to Candy, not even my parents. But when I look in the mirror and see the new me, I know Ethan was right.

  I am Candy.

  After classes, I normally go to the library to study and don’t return to my dorm room until after dinner. My roommate is far too chatty, and even though I like her, I can’t stand her incessant gossiping.

  Who cares what so and so said, or what so and so did? I sure don’t.

  So, I sit in the quiet sanctuary of the campus library and surf the Internet to fill up the time. I’ve visited every site known to man, and have seen a few things that I can’t unsee, but I don’t regret it.

  The best part for me are the intelligent discussions I can have with people around the world. To be completely alone, but not feel alone, is miraculous.

  Because I jump from site to site, I don’t tend to see the same people, but I have noticed one person named Liege who seems to show up a lot on the threads. While we don’t agree on most things, I find his posts provoking and enjoy reading them.

  I’m not looking for personal interaction, but all that changes while reading a post about Google being named the world’s most popular email service. I see that Liege has left a comment bashing the service and claiming Google has risen too quickly and will disappear in less than five years.

  I laugh to myself because I disagree and start typing my rebuttal. As soon as I post it, I get a new message in Gmail—from him.

  It freaks me out a little and I’m hesitant to open it, since this is the first personal contact I have received from people I’ve only come across on the Internet. I find the emotional distance comforting.

  But the longer the email sits there, the more curious I become. Based on his account information, I know he lives in another state which means there’s no chance of meeting him in real life.

>   So, with some trepidation, I click on his message.

  Hey Candy,

  I have noticed you around and wanted to reach out personally. I enjoy reading your comments and think you would like this other site I’m on.

  If you are interested, let me know and I’ll send the link.

  Liege

  After reading his simple note, I feel at ease. The guy seems nonthreatening, and the fact he hasn’t included the link means he is giving me the choice to respond. I appreciate that.

  After debating with myself, I decide to type a message back.

  Liege,

  Appreciate the email. I’ve enjoyed your posts, as well, and am interested in the site you mentioned. Please send the link.

  Candy

  I look it over, feeling satisfied it reflects a similar noncommittal tone. After hesitating for several seconds, I hit Send and wait.

  When I don’t get a response back after an hour, I pack up my backpack and head to the dorm. I’m actually glad he hasn’t answered because it keeps the emotional distance I crave, but I’m even more curious about the discussion site he wants me to join.

  It’s three days later and I have yet to get a reply, even though I’ve seen a few new posts from him on different sites.

  I’m wondering if he’s changed his mind, preferring to remain impersonal. I don’t mind. It’s not like I was the one to reach out first.

  But, just as I’m about to leave the library, I see his email pop up. I waste no time opening it.

  Candy,

  You seem like an intelligent woman, and it takes intelligence to have an open mind. Here is the link I promised.

  www.inthelifestyle.com

  Let me know what you think.

  Liege

  The name of the website itself has me wondering, so I click on the link and am taken to a site with multiple discussion topics.

  As I read them over, though, a chill runs down my spine. “I’m not in Kansas anymore…” I mutter to myself.

  One of the other college students turns her head and looks at me.

  I blush. If only she could see what I’m seeing…

  The topics of discussions range from Masters and Slaves, Group Fun, Training Your Sub for Service, to actual classified ads: Submissives and Owners Seeking Partners.

  I don’t realize I’ve stopped breathing until the blood starts to pound in my head.

  This guy is into some seriously crazy shit!

  Just to be sure, I look back over his two emails to convince myself I haven’t missed something in his messages.

  He seemed so normal…

  I never guessed there were websites like this, where people openly advertise wanting to be owned by other people. What the heck?

  Not one to shy away from uncomfortable topics, I do what Liege probably suspected I would do.

  I start reading some of the posts.

  Nothing is sexier than when my Master takes me to the club and plays with me in front of other people. There is just something hot about being watched while he puts me through my paces.

  nymph

  Although I can’t imagine doing that myself, I can see it being exciting for some people and don’t find it shocking.

  Looking through another discussion, I read:

  Subspace is what I live for now. I don’t care how I get there. I just want to experience it again and again. Who knew it could be such fun?

  bunny

  I am clueless what she is talking about, but it’s obvious that whatever it is must feel amazingly good.

  Okay…my curiosity has been officially piqued.

  I move to the discussion about Masters and Slaves and see this post:

  If my sub is being particularly bratty, I make her lie on the bed and tie her up while she explains to me what she’s done wrong. I then take off my belt and make her kiss it before I begin punishing her.

  I find it helpful to have her bound so she can’t move when I deliver her punishment, and I don’t stop until there are tears.

  Master Ian

  My jaw drops.

  I can’t even imagine…

  I’m about to click out of the site when these simple words catch my eye.

  I love my pet.

  Even though that last post freaked me out…this seems sweet, so I click on the post.

  During the day, I get pulled in every direction at my job, but when I come home and find my pet waiting for me—all the day’s stress falls away.

  She is so beautiful, kneeling on the floor as she looks up at me, wearing only her jeweled collar around her neck.

  Knowing that her greatest desire is to please her Master never fails to excite me. Love my little kitten.

  Drake

  I stare at this post for a long time. The tenderness in his declaration stirs something profound inside me. I can see myself kneeling on the floor, a pretty collar around my neck, waiting for someone to come home.

  It wouldn’t be what I had with Ethan—what we had can never be replaced.

  But this could be new and different, a fresh start.

  I smile as I click out of the site and go back to the email Liege sent. He must be wondering if I’ve received it and how I will react.

  Since he made me wait a couple of days, I decide to follow suit, not wanting to come across desperate or something. However, I definitely want to discuss this further with him.

  As I leave the library, I start looking at the other college students as they walk by. Are any of them leading this secret life? It’s as if a whole new world I never knew existed has been revealed to me.

  The idea of it intrigues me so much that I find myself gravitating to the pet section the next time I’m at the store, and I start looking at the cat collars with a more critical eye. I even pick one up and find a mirror, so I can see how it looks against my neck.

  “Do you need help?” a store employee asks as she approaches me.

  I blush, quickly pulling the collar away from my neck. “I was just looking at the size to see if it would fit my dog.”

  “Oh, if you’re looking for dog collars, they’re one aisle down.”

  “Great,” I answer meekly, thoroughly embarrassed as I put the cat collar back and move to the next aisle. I end up grabbing a random collar and telling her thanks as I head to the front to buy it.

  Now I own a dog collar, and I don’t even have a dog.

  I wait to answer his email two days later.

  Dear Liege,

  I have to admit I was a little thrown by the website you linked. But, like you said, it’s important to keep an open mind so I started exploring it a little.

  While there are a lot of things I don’t understand, I certainly found it informative.

  What’s your take on this site?

  Candy

  I’m pleased with my email. I’m not giving up too much information about myself and throwing the ball back into his court at the same time.

  To my delight, I get an answer the very next day.

  Candy,

  Good to hear you have an open mind. You asked my take on the site without stating your own. Rather than waste time going back and forth, let me be frank with you.

  I am a Dominant.

  Let me answer the question I’m sure you want to ask. I am looking for an online submissive, and I thought you would make a good candidate.

  I await your reply.

  Liege

  My heart beats rapidly as I read his email and then read it again.

  Liege is a Dominant…

  I’m not entirely sure what that entails but, after looking at the site, I surmise it’s the same as a Master. I feel tingles of excitement knowing a Master is actually talking to me and thinks I’d be a good match.

  Even though the whole BDSM thing kind of frightens me, it sure would be great as a distraction. Way better than algebra!

  This whole week, I haven’t had to drag myself out of bed. The fact that he is only looking for an online relationship makes it feel safe—
a way for me to escape the pain without risking anything.

  Dear Liege,

  I know nothing about this lifestyle and am not even sure what you are asking of me.

  I need more details about what’s involved before I can give you a simple yes or no. However, I will say that I’m fascinated that this hidden world exists and am flattered that you asked me.

  Please keep in mind I’m a college student and have to put my studies first.

  Candy

  Liege takes a day to respond but, when I open his email, I can tell it’s definitely been worth the wait.

  Candy,

  I suspected you were new to the lifestyle, which means I need to take on the role as your trainer and Master.

  To do this, I will give you tasks to complete at the beginning of each week, and you will report back to me at the end. This should not interfere with school.

  However, once you start down this path with me, you will find it difficult to think of anything else. I plan to start you out with small tasks and build up to more challenging ones—that’s when it starts to get fun.

  Once you make the decision to become my submissive, I want you to respond with an email entitled “Task 1 Complete” and attach the picture in the email.

  From that point forward, you will address me only as Master.

  A BDSM relationship is based on trust. This is not a game you play whenever it pleases you. This is a commitment to me—and to yourself.

  Before I can reveal your pet name, you must complete my first task.

  Task 1

  When you are ready to train as a submissive, write “Yes, Master” on a piece of paper using your lipstick, then take a picture of yourself holding it up as you look at the camera.

  Liege

  His task seems easy enough, although I’m curious as to why the message needs to be written in lipstick. The way he talks about starting me out slow and BDSM being about trust makes me feel good, but what really gets my heart racing is the fact he already has a pet name picked out for me—and I hadn’t even mentioned anything about that to him.

  It feels as if he can read my mind!

  As I gather my books and stuff them into my backpack, along with my laptop, I already know I am going to say yes but I decide to sleep on it.