As she goes towards the surgery door, I put my arm on the small of her back to guide her. When it becomes apparent I mean to go in with her, she looks up questioningly. “Jon? I’m perfectly capable of doing this on my own. You can wait here.” She doesn’t seem to have understood when I said I’d be with her all the time that I meant, all the time. And though she’s trying to disguise her fear, she needs me.
She doesn’t know me well at all yet. “I’m your Dom, Mia. You’re mine. You’re not doing this alone. Your body belongs to me.”
“My body? Like heck, it does! In the bedroom, perhaps, but not here!” Her tone is almost a snarl, but quiet. It’s not an argument she wants others to overhear.
I stare her down. “Certain parts belong to me at all times. I’ll never have another man touch you, Mia. And if a woman does, I’ll be present. You’ve researched the lifestyle; you must know how possessive us Doms can be.” I smile to take the sting out of my words.
She tenses for a second, looking like she’s going to continue to disagree but then looks down. When I take her hand, she holds onto it tight and as I lead her through the door, she makes no further protest. I hate that I might be making her more uncomfortable, but I need to be here to give her my support.
A nurse is in the room. She greets us, and without delay asks Mia to take off her top, jeans and pants, then to put on one of those ill-fitting backless gowns, lie on the table and to put the proffered blanket over her. It’s a litany of instructions she’s probably repeated often. Then she leaves the room without questioning my presence, she’s an old hand and knows the score.
Turning away from me, Mia undresses and wraps the gown round her as if to preserve her modesty. I laugh softly and turn her to face me. “I have seen it before,” I chuckle. She gives me a half-hearted smile, her mind more on the check-up ahead. I see the examination table has caught her attention, and she’s fixating on the stirrups, imagining how exposed she’ll be. Giving her arm a comforting squeeze, I gently guide her over. “It won’t take long,” I try to reassure her. She glances at the door as if calculating whether she can escape. Before she can have second thoughts, I pick her up and sit her on the table. She doesn’t lie down.
“Yellow,” she whispers, so quietly I have difficulty hearing her. I do the only thing I can; I pull her into my arms and hold her tight, planting a gentle kiss on the top of her head.
At that moment, Mary enters. I move a step away and nod at my old friend who greets me with a smile and comes across to take my hand. I place a chaste kiss on her cheek. Her white coat, greying hair and sensible spectacles give her an air of authority and competence, but her eyes are twinkling behind the glass. She’s a Domme, and I know she’ll be able to read Mia like a book, that’s why I was particularly pleased to get an appointment with her. Having greeted me, she turns to her patient.
“Mia Fable?” She confirms. She’s holding a clipboard and consulting it. As Mia dips her head, acknowledging her name, she continues with a glint in her eyes. “Well, I have to congratulate you. You seemed to have ensnared Master Jonathan! Never thought, I’d see the day.”
Her loud laugh manages to coax a weak smile and question from Mia. “He’s not brought anyone else to see you before?”
I hold my breath, waiting to see what Mary’s going to say. Shit! I hadn’t thought of this, but she remembers that I have an account with the salon. And Mary’s as honest as I expected.
“Oh yes, he’s brought subs here before. But never to go on the pill.” She turns to me, her face full of amusement, “This one’s a keeper, eh, Master Jonathan?” Then she looks stern, “Well I hope that’s the situation if you intend going bareback.”
Now I’m the one feeling uncomfortable, but there’s no way for me to get out of it, and while Mia knows I’ve had other women, she probably doesn’t need to have them thrown in her face. So I don’t try and justify anything, but merely answer her question. “Yes, Mistress Mary. For definite.” I grin down at Mia, looking up to catch Mary’s smile and quick nod, almost as though she’s giving me parental approval. Then she turns back to Mia, who doesn’t seem to know which one of us to look at, and instead has settled for staring at her toes. My finger on her pulse, however, shows me that the informality of our banter and the certainty of my response appear to have taken some of her anxiety away.
As Mary consults her notes, I start to explain. “Mia’s scared, Mary. She hasn’t been to a doctor since her attack.”
“Hmm. Yes, you told me about that earlier on the phone.” She focuses her attention on her patient. “You were raped, repeatedly by two men over a two-day period. I understand they left you with a range of other injuries?” She’s so blunt; I wince on Mia’s behalf.
Surprisingly Mia, herself, seems to react well to such a no-nonsense approach. “Yes…” She swallows, rapidly a few times. Mary waits, reading the same signs as me. Mia has something else to say. “I’m worried they may have hurt me.” She swallows again, “Damaged me.” Her voice drops and shows the depth of her concern when her statement comes out as a question, “That I won’t be able to have children?”
Fuck it! I hadn’t realised she carried this particular burden, and rage rises in me all over again over what her attackers put her through, and the lasting effects of it. The thought of even committing to a relationship is new and strange enough for me by itself, and the possibility of having children in the future hasn’t even crossed my mind. But the moment she mentioned the subject, I suddenly have a vision of Mia swollen with my baby, and it hits me all in a rush just how much when the time is right, I think I would want that. I clench my fists, incensed that actions of those bastards might have taken the chance away.
Mary contemplates her for a second and then says in a matter of fact manner, “Well, let’s take a look, shall we? Put your feet in the stirrups, pet.”
Swallowing down my rage, and forcing myself to be strong for her I step forwards and clasp Mia’s hand. As she glances at me, I give her an encouraging smile, then, with obvious reluctance, she places her feet in the stirrups, her whole body trembling. As Mary snaps on her latex gloves and grabs a speculum, some lube and a light, I resist the urge to grimace at the firmness of Mia’s grip.
“This will feel cold, but shouldn’t be too uncomfortable,” she tells her. Mia winces as the instrument is inserted and tightens her hold so my fingers start to feel numb. I make no complaint; I told her I’d be here for her. However, she needs me.
“When was your last period, pet?”
“About a fortnight ago,” Mia replies.
“We can do a smear test then.” Mary bends over, intent on her task, and takes some swabs. She’s quick and efficient, and it’s over in no time. Mia breathes out then quickly sucks in air, and I realise she’d been holding her breath.
The doctor then goes and pulls over a machine. “I’m going to use an ultrasound probe to see if everything looks normal up there,” she explains as she inserts the probe and then puts her attention on the screen beside us. It’s not more than a couple of minutes later, and she’s telling Mia she can dispense with the stirrups now, she brings the blanket up over legs and pulls the gown up to expose her stomach. After using gel, she uses a different probe, moving it across Mia’s skin, and studies the screen again.
Eventually, Mary puts the equipment away and passes Mia some paper towels to clean herself up. “Well,” she pronounces, “Everything looks like it’s in the right place from what I can see here. There’s appears to be some evidence of scarring, which would need further investigation if you have any problems conceiving. You could possibly have a blockage in one of your fallopian tubes, but the other looks healthy enough.” She then looks at us both. “Due to the purpose of your visit today, I gather getting pregnant is not a concern at the moment. But when you do want to try, give it a few months, then come back and see me if you don’t have any success. But for now, don’t worry about it too much. Fertility depends on so many factors, even on your partner. There, that�
��s all for now. You can get dressed, pet.” She steps away from the table; the examination completed so quickly Mia seems taken aback that it’s over and takes a moment to react. As the doctor pulls a curtain around us, she turns her back on me before pulling on her utilitarian white pants and putting the rest of her clothes on. I smile at her audible sigh of relief.
“All over, sweetheart,” I say, softly. “Come here.” I hold out my hand, and she grabs it like a safety line. Pulling her to me, I envelop her in a hug aiming to convey how proud I am.
Emerging from behind the curtain we see Mary’s washed her hands and had taken a seat at her desk. Mia and I sit in the chairs opposite and wait while she labels phials and writes up some notes. After a few minutes, she puts down her pen and turns to her.
“Right, just a blood sample now, and then you’re done.” Again she’s quick and efficient, and while Mia averts her eyes from the needle, she makes no murmur allowing the doctor to extract the necessary amount of blood from her arm with no fuss. Mary writes another label, and then puts it with the other samples in a box waiting on the side.
“Okay, when did you last have sex?” Mary asks.
Mia glances at me, going red in the face and I grin at her. She answers, shyly, “Last night.”
Mary shoots me an amused look but puts her professional hat back on quickly. “And were you been sexually active before then? Have you ever had unprotected sex?”
Mia looks down at the floor, and her reply comes out as a mumble. “Only seven years ago. To answer both your questions.”
Mary directs her impassive gaze on Mia. “When you were raped? And they didn’t use condoms?”
Mia nods in reply.
Mary breathes in sharply. “And you’ve never been to a doctor or clinic, nor have been tested for STDs?” As Mia shakes her head, the doctor narrows her eyes, as if thinking. “Hmm, most problems would have presented symptoms by now though so the likelihood is that you’re clean but we need to rule out anything hanging over from your attack. Have you suffered from urinary tract infections at all?”
Mia shakes her head, and then looks at me quizzically as if she doesn’t quite understand why Mary’s asking that question.
The doctor continues speaking. “Most things would have shown up before now, but unfortunately, we can’t rule out HIV, as you could be symptom-free for up to ten years. It’s unlikely, but we need to find out.”
Mia freezes, and throws me a look of concern, and I realise she’s not afraid for herself, but in case she’s infected me. I turn her so she has to look at me. She has tears in her eyes, her shame and worry clear. Suddenly I’m holding her hand again, and I lean over and whisper in her ear, “It will be alright. We used a condom. We’ll just have to be careful until you get the results through.” I glance over to the doctor, “But in all likelihood you’re clean. Isn’t that right, Mary?”
Mary is giving us a moment, and then she nods and gets back to business. “Yes, Jon, Mia. The chances of you having HIV are slim as you’ve not shown symptoms so far, but we do have to check. Belt and braces approach. Ok? And I’ll contact you as soon as we have the results. Might even be today, or possibly tomorrow. Right now, onto contraception. Any ideas what you want to use?”
As her Dom, I answer. “The pill’s the best option I think, as we discussed on the phone.”
She looks at me, and then at Mia. “That would be fine.” She looks down at her notes, “Now Mia, your last period was two weeks ago, so you’ll be able to start taking it on the first day of your next. You’ll be protected straight away.”
Two weeks! I stop the inappropriately timed grin coming to my face. Two weeks and I’ll be able to feel this woman in every way.
Chapter 20
Mia
Seven Years ago
I expected them to kill me, to finish it, and being in so much pain, I thought death would be welcome . Instead, they threw my clothes at me and instructed me to put them on. They forbade me to remove the blindfold so I had to get dressed slowly by touch. Every movement hurt, and by the amount of laughter they were finding my struggles amusing, although they soon got impatient that I was taking so long.
Once I was dressed, my hands and feet were rebound, and they stuffed a dirty rag into my mouth as a gag. Then one lifted me and carried me out into the fresh air. I heard the sound of a door opening, and then I was dropped on the hard metal floor of what I assumed was a van . The engine started, and the vehicle moved off, jolting down what felt like a badly rutted track. I was being thrown backwards and forwards, and couldn’t do anything to stop myself rolling painfully around. At last, the ride thankfully became smoother. I had no option other than to lie in misery until we arrived wherever it was they were taking me.
At last, the journey ended, I froze as I heard one, then the other door of the van open, and felt the cold air flooding in. Dreading what they would do to me next, I cringed as they cut through my bindings, and felt the cold metal of a knife against my skin. Then, I was thrown out onto the road. I hit the tarmac hard, picking up grazes to add other hurts to my list of injuries. I heard wheels spin, and a vehicle pulling away. Free at last to remove the blindfold, I pulled it off, blinking hard as my eyes adjusted, able to see for the first time in days. I watched as a white van disappeared into the distance.
Present day
The doctor writes a prescription and then hands it to me. From the day of my attack, I’d worried whether I’d ever be able to get pregnant and always feared to ask. God knows where I got the strength from to do so today. I’d convinced myself that because of the intense pain my abusers caused me, they had to have caused some internal damage. The fear of finding out was one of the things stopping me visiting a doctor before.
But after the examination, I start to feel a little bit optimistic. Maybe they hadn’t taken that away from me. Obviously, it’s far too early to consider having a baby with Jon; for goodness sake it’s hard enough to believe we’re in a relationship at all. But somehow the thought of a little dark haired boy gets stuck in my mind… Pull yourself together, Mia.
I’m only half listening, lost in my thoughts as Jon and the doctor finish up their conversation. But I bring myself back to the here and now when Jon confirms the invoice should be sent to him. I should have realised this was a private practice and that there would be a bill, I should have gone to my own doctor on the NHS. But I’ll have to dig into my pockets; Jon can’t keep paying for things, so I protest. It was my appointment and therefore I should pay for it. I’m taken aback when Mary just laughs and tells me not to argue with my Dom.
We leave the surgery, again he takes my hand, I’m getting used to this; it seems he wants to stay as close to me as I do to him. But I need to get something sorted, “You didn’t have to pay, Jon.” I’m still put out.
Putting his finger to my lips, he stops me from speaking, and laughs, “My body, my bill.”
I glare at him, but he ignores me, settling me in the car, then getting in him and starting the engine. To be quite honest, the appointment was over so quickly and had been so painless I don’t know what I’d been working myself up about. Seven years ago, why didn’t I fight harder to go to a doctor then? But there were a lot of reasons why. Perhaps I shouldn’t keep looking back, thinking how I could have done things differently. Perhaps it’s time to start living in the present.
We make the journey back to Epping in excellent time, and stop off for lunch at the Blazing Donkey, which now seems to have become our local. All the while, Jon never stops touching me. He’s either holding my hand, squeezing my arm, or has his hand resting on the small of my back. When we enter the door, a man walks out; brushing past us and Jon pulls me in tight to his side. The intimacies of last night seem to have made him demonstrably possessive.
Once we find a table he sits close to me on the bench seat, his leg touching mine. Slowly he runs his hand up the side of my thigh, and I get goose bumps over my skin. If my past brought me to Jon, could I regret it? I shiver, real
ising perhaps for the first time that it’s what happened to me that’s brought me to where I am today.
“You cold?” he asks me, grinning.
“Actually, I’m feeling a bit hot,” I answer, fluttering my eyebrows, daring to flirt with him and pretending to fan myself.
His grin widens. “I might be able to do something about that a bit later.”
He brushes back his hair which has fallen over his forehead. Damn, this man only has to twitch his little finger for me to find the action sexy. My stomach clenches and I lose my nerve to continue the conversation. I know I’m blushing so turn my head away, and pretend to stare out of the window. Our food arrives, we eat, and then, neither of us wanting to delay, return to my cottage. For the first time in a week, I’m not worried about going home; I’m more concerned how long it will be before Jon gets me into bed again!
There’s some mail sitting in the letterbox, so I pick it up as I walk in and throw the envelopes down in a pile on the hall table. The one on top is offering me a loan I don’t want, so I doubt the others are any more exciting. Jon pulls me to him and puts his mouth over mine. The kiss starts gently, but soon he’s thrusting his tongue into my mouth in the promise of what is to come. His hands move down to my waist, and then slide up underneath my T-shirt. He cups my breasts through my bra.
Close Protection (Blood Brothers #2) Page 25