Dirty Dom (A Submissives’ Secrets Extra)
Page 2
Daphne never went back to college. She stayed with me and eventually we moved up to Oregon where I became a police officer and she stayed at home to raise our kids. She called that, the most important job in the world and she was proud to do it.
She and I are taking one of our secret vacations. We used to go back to where we met, all those years ago, but floods took out our willow tree and it’s just not the same without it.
Instead, we went to Africa. Daphne has always wanted to see the place where wild animals roam free and we’re just specks on the land along with them. And what my Daphne wants, she gets.
Sitting under the shade of a Marula tree in the Kruger National Park, we hold hands as she draws in the loose dirt. “You know if there was a chance in the world that I could get better then I’d never want this, right, Jack?”
“I do,” I say as I look away. A giraffe lopes away from the herd it’s a part of and I think about why it would be doing such a thing. Lions come to mind and I shudder.
“And I know you want to follow me, but I think you should stay. For the kids, you know.” Her hand touches my chin, making me look at her. “Can you do that for me?”
“I can’t live without you,” I mumble as a lump fills my throat. “Don’t ask me to.”
“Well, I am asking you to. You don’t have a death sentence hanging over your head, and I do. You would be committing a huge sin. You and I might not end up in the same place if you do that. And I want you with me.”
“But, we agreed…”
She puts her fingers to my lips. “Hush, I wasn’t thinking rationally. I was being selfish. I’ve thought about little else. I want you to forget about the second half of the plan. Help me with the first part, nature will take its course and you will go back home and take care of our kids. Jake and Becca still need a parent around. They’re not out of the house yet. I need you to be there for them.” Her hand moves to rest on my shoulder. “I need you to wait until it’s your time, naturally. Promise me.”
“You’re going to leave me all alone here,” I croak out. “I can’t do it without you. I can’t!”
“You can and you will, Jack Jamison. I can’t take you with me on this trip. I need you to do as I’ve asked you to. Can you do this last thing for me?”
I can’t stop looking into her eyes that are nearly colorless as she’s so weak and near her end. We kept if from everyone, her condition. She waited too long to tell me something was wrong with her. Our first doctor visit was our last. A quick diagnosis of stage four cervical cancer, a quick few words told us she was past treatment. Another few words gave her a month to live.
She wanted to be away from home, make things look better than they really are. Daphne thought it’d be more fun to have a great story to tell about our deaths. Killed by wild animals while on a trip to Africa. I was to be included in that, but she seems to have changed her mind.
My Daphne and her tales. She tells the story of when we met like it’s a timeless romance. She has great stories for when each one of our children was born. And now she wants something more exciting for the story of her death.
It may sound completely insane to be doing this for her. But where she’s concerned, I can’t seem to ever tell her, no about anything. Even not slitting my own wrist when I slit hers. Allowing us to bleed out our life’s blood and become food for the scavenging wild animals.
“Daphne, how am I supposed to leave you here? I can’t.”
“You will.” She taps me on the chin. “You will do as we planned. Only, after you cut my wrist, you will stay with me until the end then you will walk away and leave me to the night scavengers. And you will tell everyone that we got split up when we were chased by lions. And you don’t know what happened to me.”
“I can’t.”
“Stop saying that!” she shouts at me then has to catch her breath as she’s used too much energy. “You will find a ranger and you will tell him that story and that’s that.”
“I cannot walk away from you, Daphne! I can’t do it! Don’t ask me to. Please.” I break down and cry.
I’ve stayed strong for as long as I can. I can’t do what she’s asked me to. I can’t do it. I can die with her, but I can’t walk away from her.
Getting up, I begin to pace and wipe my eyes then I hear her scream and try desperately to clear my blurry tears. “What’s wrong?”
Even through the tears, I see the blood pooling on the ground next to her. “Jack, do as I’ve said now. I know it’s hard. I need you to do what I’ve told you to.”
“Daphne! You cut your own wrist.” I fall to the ground and pick up her limp, pale hand. She’s cut it nearly all the way through. Blood is spurting out, a gallon at a time. “God, why?”
Cradling her in my arms, I scream and curse as I feel her growing cold in my arms. I’m covered in her blood as I cry and feel her life slipping away.
“I love you, Jack Jamison. I always will.”
“I love you,” I cry and groan as I feel her body go completely limp in my arms.
The sound of a Jeep has me looking over my shoulder. “Sir! Stand up!”
I can’t let her go. I can’t do it.
Maybe they’ll shoot me and end this agony.
Grant
The train pulls into the station and we get off of it. All three of us are weary from the long trip but we’re only a little while away from getting on a plane that will take us back home to America. A place my father has already been taken to.
He was handed over to the American Embassy and sent to Oregon. He confessed to cutting my mother’s wrist, murdering her. And he won’t say why. He won’t say anything else, as a matter of fact.
I notice everyone stopping and dropping their heads as mother’s black casket is taken off the train and put into a waiting car. The long black car will transport us to the airport. Jenny is making the funeral arrangements.
We’ll bury our mother in the cemetery that’s just a couple of blocks away from where they lived and we all grew up. And our father will spend the rest of his life in on Oregon Penitentiary for murdering her.
Jake climbs into the car first and Aunt Betsy follows. I get in last, sandwiching our aunt between us as he asks, “When do you think the trial for Dad will begin?”
“There won’t be one,” I tell him. “He confessed.”
“I know that,” he says. “But there will be something, won’t there?”
Aunt Betsy takes over, “No, a judge will decide how much time he’ll get.”
“He’ll get life,” I say as I rub my temples. “You know he will. And I’m glad for that. If he was out, I’d kill him.”
Jake glares at me. “You don’t know the whole story. Don’t be so against our father, Grant.”
“And we don’t know the whole story because our usually talkative father refuses to tell anything more than the fact that he cut her wrist. He didn’t say it was an accident. He didn’t say another damn word about it. He went, willingly with the rangers and he went willingly with the officers that took him back to Oregon. He did it, Jake. He killed our mother, his wife. The woman we all thought he loved more than anything. He killed her. He deserves to die for that!”
Aunt Betsy pats my hand to quiet my shouting. “Grant, hush now. We’ll get nowhere throwing around harsh words about anyone. Your father is in shock, that’s why he’s not talking more about what happened. He’ll come around. He’ll tell someone what happened. I know he will.”
“What if Mom was having an affair and he found out and he killed her over that?” Jake asks.
“Shut the fuck up, Jake!” I shout at him. “If you say another bad thing about our mother, I don’t know what I’ll do to you. So just shut the fuck up now!”
“Okay, boys,” Aunt Betsy says as she runs her hand over my leg. “Let’s be quiet and just relax on the ride back home. There’s a lot to do when we get back. Put this fighting behind you both. If I have to spend every visitation day with your father to get to the bottom of this, t
hen I will. We will find out the truth. Don’t worry, or fight, or speculate about things.”
We arrive at the airport. Then wait in the car as mother is transported to the bedroom in the private jet I chartered. Then we get out of the car and get on the plane.
Being the CEO of a multi-billion-dollar company and having more money than most, didn’t stop tragedy from finding me. All the money in the world can’t change what’s happened.
And I can’t stop thinking that love can’t really exist if my father could do this to the woman it seemed like he loved more than anything in this world.
Love cannot be real!
Taking the seat across from my aunt as Jake takes one in the very back, I see her looking at me. Then she asks, “What about that nice girl you’ve been seeing, Stacy? Is she going to help you through this?”
“No,” I say as I look out the window as the sun begins to rise. “I’m not going to see her anymore.”
“Why not?” she asks with surprise. “She’s a sweetheart.”
“She is,” I say then look at her. “And I could fall in love with her. And I don’t want that.”
“Grant, stop.” She shakes her head.
“No, I don’t want to love anyone. Not anymore. Not ever.”
Sitting back, I think about nothing more than what I need to do. Anger is filling me. Hate is taking over. I need to find a constructive outlet for all this pain.
I wonder if there’s a place where I can take out my aggression on a willing participant. My cock is hard as a rock and all I want to do is fuck the shit out of some woman then walk away without her wanting more from me.
Now, where can I find that?
The End?
Grant Jamison’s future is set, and he’ll become one of the founding fathers of The Dungeon of Decorum, the common thread in the novels of Submissives’ Secrets. Each novel stands alone but all have a home at the Portland, Oregon BDSM Club.
With each new novel, the Dirty Dom, Grant’s story will unfold a bit more in standalone short stories you can only get in our Newsletter. So spread the word!