Tink sighed. She reached her tiny had out to Stefan and brushed her fingers gently across the hard rugged plane of his cheek. “I love you and Renee,” she said softly. “I would hate to see you make the same mistake as Rocky did in the films, because right now you are doing the same thing, Stefan. You are a good man, with a good heart. But the relationship you are trying to protect and preserve is falling apart because you’ve changed. You became civilized, Stefan. You lost the intensity and attitude that made you a Master – and made Renee fall in love with you. That’s not good,” she said with big sad eyes. She squeezed his hand. “Sometimes you can love something so very much that you cling to it too tightly – and strangle it to death.”
Seven.
When Stefan came out of the shower that evening, Renee was waiting for him, perched on the side of the bed like a delicate bird about to take flight at any moment.
Stefan was scrubbing his hair dry with a towel, and had another wrapped around his waist. He stood in the centre of the bedroom floor bare-chested for a moment, and then pulled a t-shirt from the bedside drawers.
Renee said nothing. The local newspaper was open on the bed. They had barely spoken a word all day. Since Tink had left at lunchtime, Renee had busied herself arranging her collection of books. Now the air was brittle and charged with tension that had been drawn too tight for too long.
“Tink invited us out,” Renee said at last. “Did she tell you?”
“No.”
Renee nodded. “Well she did. Her and Master Peter have invited us to the BDSM club in Bishop’s Bridge. It’s called ‘Heaven’s Gate.’’”
“I know it,” Stefan said.
Renee looked surprised. “Really?” Her tone suddenly lost its frigidity. “You never mentioned it to me before. I had no idea you ever visited a BDSM club.” She turned herself on the bed until she was facing him and watched him pull on the t-shirt and a pair of jeans. Suddenly she was curious.
“I never said I visited the club,” Stefan explained. “I said I know it. I happen to know the owner. We were friends a long time ago.”
There was an abrupt finality in Stefan’s tone that Renee had grown accustomed to. She sighed. “But you don’t want to talk about it, right? You don’t want to tell me?”
“No. I don’t.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s my past, Renee. It’s ancient history. It was from a different time in my life. It doesn’t matter any more.”
“Fine.” Instinctively Renee folded her arms across her chest and there was a tiny pout on her lips. “Then can we at least visit the club with Peter and Tink?”
“No.”
Renee could feel her temper fraying, and it took every last shred of her control to keep her voice soft and restrained. “Why not? For all you know your friend doesn’t even own the club anymore. And it would be such a fun night for us, Stefan.”
Stefan shook his head. “No. I’m not interested. That’s not our lifestyle any more, Renee….” He stopped himself suddenly, pausing in mid sentence – and then after a moment he continued, but now his voice was low and measured, as though what he was saying now had been thought about and rehearsed time and again. “I have changed as a man, Renee. When I trained you in BDSM, I didn’t love you, and you weren’t my wife – and we hadn’t been pregnant together. You were just another woman to me. A physical woman that I felt no emotion for, and that I had no reason to care about. Now we are at this stage of our relationship, and that time was another world away. I don’t see you as a body. I don’t regard you in terms of submission and domination. I see you as my wife – as the woman I love. I can’t treat you in a purely physical way anymore… too much has happened – too many emotions and suffering and heartache has been shared to just sweep all that aside and to be able to look at you any differently.”
Renee stood up. She paced around the bed like a caged lioness prowling behind the restraining bars of her temper. “You have changed, Stefan,” she agreed. “But you had no right to!” Then she shook her head, sighed, and stared hard at him across the room. “You are a great husband, and I know you will be a wonderful father. I know that. But it’s the man I miss, Stefan! I miss the way you looked at me and the way you treated me. Now I don’t know how to react to you. I don’t know how to respond. I feel like not only baby Storm died, but the man I loved died at the same time. You’ve taken him away from me!”
“He didn’t die! He changed!” Stefan flared. “He evolved. He became a caring husband who loves his wife more than anything else in the world, and a man who couldn’t bare to see her hurt ever again… or bare to hurt her.”
Finally the last shreds of Renee’s temper snapped. “Being dominant doesn’t mean being cruel, Stefan! You of all people know that. You treat me like I’m some fragile thing that will break in your hands. Damn it! I need to feel my man taking me the way you used to. I want to see that look of lust and passion in your eyes again. I want you to make me want to submit to your needs – simply because of your presence and power – not this! Not this! This is just existing, Stefan. And we are dying a little bit more every day. What once made us special isn’t what holds us together any more. What holds us together now is tragedy and loyalty.” She came to him then, crossing the floor and reaching out for his hands. Her grip was tight, and the hurt in her eyes shocked Stefan.
“I want the fire again, Stefan. I want to smolder in your arms. I want to feel the heat in your gaze and the fire in your touch. I want us to melt together from the sexual energy that we once had. Give me that, instead of what we have now. That’s what will make our relationship strong again.”
Stefan looked into Renee’s eyes. The pain she was feeling was still there, and still a shock to him. But he resisted.
“You expect me to tie you again, take a riding crop to you… treat you like nothing more than a body for my pleasure? How can you ask me for that, Renee?”
“Because it’s what I want and need from you. And because there are no other choices if you want to make this marriage work.”
Stefan shook his head. “I can’t hurt you. I won’t…”
Renee stepped back, putting two paces between them. Her lips were trembling, and as Stefan glared across the space at her he saw her blue eyes were swimming. He had not expected tears. He felt his fury slipping away.
Renee’s shoulders slumped, as though every last ounce of her energy had finally been drained and defeated from her body. She began to weep. Suddenly she felt very tired and very sad. She lifted her fingers and touched at her cheek, only mildly surprised to feel the slick of wet tears. “The sting of the riding crop lasts a few minutes, Stefan. The burn of the ropes lasts no longer,” she whispered. “But the way you are rejecting me now is a hurt that will never go away.”
Eight.
Renee was sitting on the sofa, staring out into the dark star-lit night when Stefan came down the hallway.
She was crying – he could see the way her shoulders shuddered, and hear her muffled sobs.
He stood there for a long time, just watching, and then finally he sighed and she turned at the sound to face him.
“Alright, Renee” Stefan said softly. “We will go to the BDSM club. I will leave it to you and Tink to make the arrangements.”
Nine.
Renee was almost breathless with her excitement when she phoned Tink the following morning.
“He said yes,” she breathed into the phone. “We’re coming to ‘Heaven’s Gate’ with you and Master Peter. What night do you want to make it?”
Tink’s voice reflected her surprise. “Stefan said yes?”
“He did. He said yes.”
“Oh, wow!” Tink became enthusiastic. “That’s wonderful, Renee. We’ll have such a good time – and maybe Stefan will realize what he has been missing out on.”
Renee crossed her fingers superstitiously. “Don’t jinx me!” she said through another bubbling laugh of hope and excitement. “I don’t want to get my hopes up.”
/> There was a moment of silence and then Tink’s voice came back loud and clear. “Master wants to know if tonight would suit you both?” she asked. A moment’s more silence and then, “around 8pm. We could meet you at the front door and take you in. We can celebrate my collaring to Master Peter at the same time.”
“Sounds perfect,” Renee said. “What are you going to wear?”
For ten minutes more the two women chatted like excited schoolgirls planning their first double-date. Renee had already chosen her outfit, but saved the last little surprise until the end of the conversation.
“And I will be wearing my collar,” she confided.
“Perfect,” Tink sounded genuinely pleased. “That’s a good sign Renee. If Stefan wants you to wear your collar, he’s making a statement.”
Renee frowned into the phone. “Statement?”
“Of course!” Tink was suddenly serious. “He wants you collared so every other man at the club knows you belong to him and that you are his property. He’s warning everyone else off.”
Renee began to smile. “I never thought of that…” she said slowly as the realization became clear. “That is a good sign.”
“Or a sign he’s jealous.”
Ten.
Peter kept his eye on the taillights of Stefan’s car as the two vehicles wound their way through the wooded mountain road towards Bishop’s Bridge. Outside the car darkness was falling swiftly. Winking lights flashed past them.
Peter switched on the headlights and the car’s instrument panel glowed softly.
Tink sat beside him, curled up in the soft leather of the bucket seat. She had her legs tucked underneath her, the skin-tight black dress she wore shimmering and rippling around the firm shape of her breasts.
She was sitting quietly, gazing out through the windscreen. She had one hand to her throat, idly fondling the new black leather collar around her neck, and she was smiling with a dreamy contented expression as the endless tree-lined miles drifted by.
Every few minutes Peter would take his eyes from the road for just long enough to admire her. He did so again, and this time Tink sensed he was looking at her. She turned to him, and her face was alight and shiny with the dewy excitement of her youth.
“I am looking forward to tonight,” she said softly. “Thank you for bringing me, Master.”
Peter smiled and turned his attention back to the road. The cars swept round a tight bend. “It is my pleasure. You have been a good girl, and I want to show you off.” He paused then for a moment before adding, “I think we will enjoy the evening more than Stefan will. Are you sure you are doing the right thing?”
“By taking Stefan to the club?”
“By using the club to remind Stefan what the lifestyle is about,” Peter corrected her. “That’s what you are doing this for, isn’t it. You are hoping that once Stefan sees the club and everyone there, he will be reminded of the way he used to be with Renee. You’re hoping that will rekindle his interest in making Renee his submissive.”
Tink nodded. “Yes. That’s what Renee is hoping will happen.”
Peter shook his head doubtfully. “I don’t think you understand the circumstances,” Peter said. “I wouldn’t count on getting the result you want from tonight.”
Suddenly Tink was curious, and a little concerned. “Why, Master?”
Peter let out a long sigh and took one hand off the wheel long enough to scratch at the stubble of his chin. “I actually understand how Stefan feels. I don’t think you do. And I don’t think Renee does either.”
Tink sat silently for a moment. There was another tight bend in the road, and when the car was accelerating again along a stretch of straight tarmac, she asked softly, “What do you mean?”
“Stefan is completely in love with Renee. She is his whole world. He loves her, and because of that he finds it very difficult to separate his feeling for her as his wife, and any physical desires. He can’t see her as his wife and his submissive. She can’t be both to him because he believes a wife should be treated differently to a submissive. He can’t make the distinction between the two roles that Renee wants. And, more than anything else, he can’t bring himself to hurt the woman he loves – even through BDSM play.”
Tink thought about that carefully. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully, and then asked almost in fear, “But you treat me as your submissive. Does that mean you don’t love me in the same way?”
Peter glanced across the dark interior of the car and smiled. “I love you completely, Tink. The time since I met you has been the happiest time of my life. I think the world of you – and one day I would like to marry you… but we haven’t been through what Stefan and Renee have been through as a couple. And I’m not Stefan. I didn’t come to the BDSM lifestyle to hide away from the tragedy of a dead wife, like Stefan did. Stefan became a Master – I think I have always been one because of the way I was raised.”
Suddenly Tink was overloaded with curious questions and ripples of her own excitement.
One day, Master Peter wanted to marry her! The announcement struck her like a lightning bolt – but she had no time to focus or savor the excitement because a torrent of curious questions were suddenly bubbling at her lips and she asked them in a rush.
“I don’t know anything about your family. Are you an only child? How were you raised? What do you mean?” Like a playful kitten she leaned closer, her eyes shining and wide with unrestrained curiosity.
Peter frowned, and his eyes narrowed to flinty darkness. “Sir…!”
Tink gasped. “Sir,” she said quickly. “Sorry, Master. Forgive me. I… I get excited and forget my place sometimes.”
Peter let it go. He was in a good mood. The day had been one of celebration for them both since he had presented Tink with her collar that morning. He didn’t want to spoil the evening now by admonishing her.
“To answer some of your questions… I am not an only child. I am an orphan. My father died when I was very young.”
There was more to the story. Much more, and it took all of Tinks restraint to sit quietly in the darkened seat and wait until her Master was willing to continue. She watched his face as he drove, marveling at the man’s good looks, and her good fortune to have been chosen for him by Stefan.
Finally Peter spoke again. But he kept his eyes on the road, never once looking at Tink – merely talking, as though he were talking to the empty night. His voice was deep and gravelly – a man’s voice that remained devoid of emotion, as he recounted the details of his childhood and upbringing.
“My father and another man were business partners in Europe many years ago. They were into mining, and ran a lot of coalmines in Wales, as well as other places on the continent. My father was killed in a mine collapse when I was four years old. I never knew my mother – she died when I was born – and so my father’s business partner took me in to his home. Maybe he felt guilty – I don’t know. But for the next fifteen years he raised me with his own son. We lived on a huge estate in England, but it wasn’t a happy childhood for me. I wasn’t family, you see. The man reminded me often that he had only one son, and that son was the focus of his life. I was just… baggage.”
Peter broke off for a moment to take another very tight turn in the road. He had drifted well behind Stefan’s car, and he took a moment to accelerate until he caught sight of the red taillights again.
“When I was twelve, I was sent to boarding school for two years. And when I came home – a man of fourteen – my step-father had several young women in the home. You see over the time I was away he had become involved in the BDSM lifestyle. He was wealthy – obscenely wealthy. He began filling the house with young submissive girls who had nowhere else to go and who would gladly sell themselves into his service for the price of accommodation and food. Whereas other wealthy country estates had servants and assistants, I was surrounded by submissive women.”
Tink said nothing for a long time, and then finally asked softly, “So your step-father was like
one of those English gentlemen?”
Peter smiled bitterly to himself, and then glanced across at Tink. “My step-father was English… but he was no gentleman. He was a hard, tough, uncompromising bastard. He ran the house with an iron fist, and discipline was everything. Any girl who disobeyed him once was punished. Any girl who disobeyed him twice was dismissed from the household. As a result, the women learned quickly. He got what he wanted, when he wanted it, and exactly how he wanted it.”
“And this is how you are different to Stefan.” It was a statement, not a question.
Peter nodded. “I have been around BDSM almost all my life. When I came to America in my early twenties, it seemed only natural that I would pick-up where I had left off in England. I became part of the local BDSM communities and trained several submissive women before I met you. It’s not new for me, and it’s not an escape from anything. This is the lifestyle I have always known, so I know how to love you, and keep you as my submissive. I know how to feel and care for you – and still desire you and want you in a physical way. And I know how to protect you, and still be able to punish you when you disobey me. It’s a delicate line to walk, Tink – and Stefan is discovering that all his skills as a Master were never good preparation for how to deal with falling in love.”
Eleven.
Stefan and Renee were waiting on the sidewalk outside the black timber door when Tink and Peter met them. Renee was wearing a skin-tight red dress, cut high up on her thigh. She had her hair brushed out and her slave collar around her neck. The two women hugged and Stefan shook hands with Peter. Tink, dressed in a tight shimmering black dress, looked like a wicked pixie. She was shorter than Renee, but her dress was cut an inch higher, so that the hem line was barely an inch above the triangle of her panties. Peter slid his arm around her waist, resting his hand possessively on her bottom and she wiggled her body in encouragement.
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