My Body-Mine
by
Blakely Bennett
SMASHWORDS EDITION
* * * * *
PUBLISHED BY:
Fanny Press on Smashwords
My Body-Mine
Copyright © 2013 by Blakely Bennett
Fanny Press
PO Box 70515
Seattle, WA 98127
For more information go to: www.fannypress.com
BlakelyBennett.fannypress.com
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.
Cover design by Sabrina Sun
My Body-Mine
Copyright © 2013 by Blakely Bennett
ISBN: 978-1-60381-534-5 (Trade Paper)
ISBN: 978-1-60381-535-2 (eBook)
Produced in the United States of America
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* * * *
For A, O, and V
I hope you experience a love like I have with your father
and find the balance in life to live in joy.
* * * *
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
A huge thank you to all my friends and fans who have been so supportive and enthusiastic about me chasing the dream of publication.
No endeavor happens in a vacuum and I certainly would not be releasing my third novel if it weren’t for all the people behind the scenes making it possible.
To my husband who is not only my first reader and editor but the man who makes my life special each and every day. I so appreciate how hard you work for us so I can focus on writing and promoting. You are one of a kind and thankfully mine.
Again, huge appreciation to Catherine Treadgold at Fanny Press who keeps me in line and humble. She takes my stories and refines them to the next level. Sorry for all the dangling modifiers.
I wish I could name all my friends, readers, and reviewers but I must keep this to a reasonable length. Warm appreciation goes to my test readers Quinn J., Stephanie H., Brenda L., Heidi S. and Shannon P. Your feedback was invaluable. To all my readers, thank you for following Jane’s journey and trusting me to see her story through. It has been one of the most gratifying experiences of my life.
CHAPTER ONE
The crazy odyssey I had come to know as my new life had quieted down somewhat, but I knew the hiatus for what it was, a mere reprieve. I had healed, mostly, from my recent ordeal and settled peacefully into Marcello’s comfortable home. Janice, Marcello, and I had found an easy daily rhythm, and they both allowed me the space I required to repair the damage to my psyche and soul. However, my time for coasting was coming to an end.
True to his word, Marcello persisted in prodding me to move forward into a more submissive relationship with him. So far I had held him off, but he had begun to show his impatience in the way he raised his voice before quickly regaining self-control. Not unlike Luke, my previous Dom, he intended to possess my body, control my sex, and rule my life by his own erotic urges.
Marcello loomed taller and broader than Luke, overshadowing us both in contrast. He captivated me with his thick black hair, olive skin, and deep-set dark eyes, but it was his wide mouth and full lips that really drew me in. His capacity for cruelty seemed at times greater than Luke’s, but I had ultimately found him to be much more reasonable. Like Luke—until things went awry—Marcello showed his generosity by buying me whatever I needed or wanted. He owned a successful Italian restaurant in Hollywood—one of the most highly rated in South Florida.
“Jane, pick a safe word,” Marcello said as if we had sorted everything out between us. He took a seat next to me on the brown leather couch closest to the front entrance.
“I could leave …” I said, using my trump card again. The last thing he wanted was for me to move out from under him, literally and figuratively.
Even though our sexual encounters had become more aggressive, I had yet to allow him true dominance. There had been no bondage or discipline between us, short of the spanking I had received the day before. The only fallout from that had been a mildly inflamed ass. I had giggled and squirmed and resisted, causing his large phallus to poke against my stomach.
His hospitality had run its course and now I needed to decide whether to move out or submit. Could I give Marcello the submission he hungered after and still keep my psyche intact? I existed in constant fear of losing myself again. I longed to be more like Janice, who really owned the person she knew herself to be and fully embraced the choices she’d made. I, on the other hand, constantly second-guessed my decisions and lived in dread of repeating my recent mistakes.
In my own way I loved Marcello and a part of me wanted to give my body over to him. Another part of me—the survivor—argued that my sanity hung in the balance.
Once again I introduced a topic we had discussed several times over the past few weeks. “Janice told me a while ago that you don’t use safe words.”
“We’ve been through this, Jane. I haven’t, so far, but you and I need to start from the beginning, just as Luke should have done with you from the onset. We need it for the contract … which you will ultimately sign.” His penetrating stare was meant to compel me into submission.
Dancing my part in the repeat performance, I said, “I’ll consider signing when you show me that you understand the concept of negotiation and compromise.”
“I’ve already given up control over when you eat. That’s a huge compromise.”
“We disagree on that point. As you already know, I prefer no contract between us.”
Marcello sauntered over to the bar to pour a scotch. “Our type of relationship must have rules and boundaries and clearly defined expectations. You need to know what to expect from me and what I require of you.”
“I’m having a déjà vu, Marcello. I’m not ready for what you want from me.” Confronting him directly, I added, “Why does our relationship have to be like the one you already have with Janice? You can take her to your S and M parties. She’s accustomed to that.”
I had first encountered Janice through Luke’s photographs. Janice, bound and displayed in the throes of passion and submission. I had been so jealous of her history with Luke. Her lush Mediterranean beauty put mine to shame. She had a curvaceous body, silky straight black hair that hung to her waist, deep mystical dark brown eyes, thick black lashes—the kind of exotic good looks that make men lose their moral compass. I had more of a runner’s body and had always thought of myself as Plain Jane, until Luke had made me love my fit physique and appreciate my unadorned, girl-next-door prettiness.
“It’s time for you to let go of what happened with Luke,” Marcello said. “I think it would be best for you to get a divorce and move on. My offer still stands. My attorney is at your disposal.”
“I don’t want a divorce and I’ve been very clear with you about that. I don’t intend to marry again so there’s no point.” I knew I should listen. No one could understand why I wasn’t running to get back the money Luke essentially stole from me. Somehow divorce symbol
ized an end that I wasn’t yet strong enough to face.
“Divorcing Luke symbolizes your willingness to move on. It will allow us to really begin our life together.”
I had a sudden flashback to walking down the aisle, naked, my body gleaming with gold body lotion, my new nipple piercings on display, my mother and my friends in shock that I had agreed to marry with only jewelry and cuffs adorning me. Luke had insisted on the demonstration of his ownership, on his terms, and at the time I had thought his conditions reasonable—or at least I was too besotted to resist his will.
I shook off the memory and asked, “What’s wrong with what we have now?”
“You know the answer to that question, Jane.” Marcello started to raise his voice as he approached the couch. “How many times have we been over this?”
“Let’s finish this tango later, shall we?” I said, rising to my feet. “I need to get my run in.”
“Later, Jane,” he said, the intensity of his regard daring me to look away.
I did turn away, with an audible sigh. Realizing how tense my shoulders had become, I consciously relaxed them.
“We can speak of this later,” he said. “Ciao.”
“Goodbye,” I said with a conciliatory wave. Frustration was taking its toll on Marcello. I could see it in the hard set of his features.
A part of me agreed with Marcello, that because of Luke and the leap of faith I had taken by marrying him, I had sold my apartment, quit my job, and ended up with nothing. I deserved at least enough compensation to get back on my feet again. But I could not yet contemplate divorce, no matter how much my rational self demanded it. I didn’t want to admit any reasons beyond my unwillingness to think too much about the life I had left behind when I uttered those so-called “safe words” and exiled myself from Luke’s life forever.
* * * *
“I can’t take much more of this,” Janice said as she flopped down on my bed.
“What did he do to you this time?” I had just showered and was stretching on the floor of my bedroom.
Janice and I had a sexual history of our own. After my personal experiences with her, I understood her appeal all too well. We had settled into friendship, and I sometimes wondered if she resented having to “share” Marcello with me. He had taken Janice as his sub by her request on my wedding night to Luke, months after Luke had thrown her out. In that brief period between the ill-fated party at Luke’s mansion where we first met and our wedding day, my life had changed forever.
Marcello controlled Janice’s every move, including when she ate, worked, what she wore, and of course their sex. The brutality of their interplay sometimes shocked me. I thought Luke had stretched my limits, but Janice had agreed to things that chilled my blood such as near-asphyxiation and electroshock. What floored me even more was that she seemed to enjoy it.
“I don’t think my throat will ever be the same,” Janice said. “It hurts to swallow.”
“Tell him to stop using your throat,” I said emphatically. “I can’t imagine how his wide cock could even fit in there.”
“It’s called brute force and I can’t breathe at all while his dick is lodged in there. You already know I have no say in how he uses me, Jane. Stop playing dumb.” Janice lay on the bed with her head hanging upside down, watching me stretch.
“Let me get this straight, you want me to sign his damn contract so he will stop using your throat like a pussy? So he can do those things to me? I don’t think so.” I flipped over onto my stomach. “I’m not willing to have a relationship with him like the one he has with you. I guess I should start searching for my own place.”
“He’s been taking his frustrations out on me—it’s all about your unwillingness to divorce Luke. In the last two weeks he has fucked my throat five times, and he never used to do that.” Janice sat up on the bed, throwing her hands in the air for emphasis. “Just sign the damn thing. That will pacify him for a while, at least. You know you’ll give in eventually, so what are you waiting for?”
“You are both exhausting. I don’t know how I can be any clearer. I don’t want what you have with each other and if that’s the only way he’s willing to continue our relationship, then I might as well leave now.”
“So you say, but don’t think I believe you. You’re still waiting for Luke. Why?”
“Just because I don’t want what Marcello is trying to force me into doesn’t mean I’m still pining for Luke. I don’t ever want to see Luke again. Can’t you understand that? I don’t know what it would do to me. I thought you of all people would get it. Our stuff … the money … seems far less important than my sanity. Since I will never marry again, I have no need to divorce him. I can always go back to work when I have to support myself again.” I thought of the strong, independent, successful woman I had been before I’d met Luke and sighed. At the time he had fulfilled a deep-seated need in me I hadn’t known existed, taken me to impossible heights of sexual bliss as well as tested my pain threshold in search of another, forbidden kind of bliss that still scared me to death.
Janice shook her head. “Sorry, Jane, I haven’t forgotten what that relationship almost cost you. As you know, my own time with Luke just about killed me, not to mention what it took to get over him. I just don’t see why you haven’t moved forward with Marcello.”
I stopped stretching and folded my arms. “I’m waiting for Marcello to adjust the terms of the contract so I will have more control over my life. I keep hoping that his desire to have me will overshadow his overwhelming need to manipulate everything I do. At any rate, I’ll talk to him about his abuse of your throat—”
“Don’t you dare!” Janice yelled. “Seriously, Jane, that will just make matters worse.”
“Fine, fine, I won’t say anything.” Bending over between my legs I put my elbows down on the ground and glanced up at Janice. “Do you like it when he uses you that way?”
“ ‘Like’ is an odd term to use in our lifestyle. I would say, no, I don’t care for it. However, it makes me so wet, it’s hard to convince him otherwise. Honestly, it’s more the long-term side effects that worry me.”
“Like?”
“My throat hurts when I swallow, mostly on the left side, and my left ear feels like there’s pressure in it. I’m sure it’ll heal up as everything else has, but please, just make your choice already.”
* * * *
While existing in the purgatory of indecision, I spent my time running on the beach, editing my story about my time with Luke and trying to get published. In the last few months I hadn’t had to worry about making money or paying bills. I appreciated Marcello’s generosity more than I could say, but my gratitude didn’t extend to giving myself over to him completely.
No matter what Janice and Marcello thought, I was not pining away for Luke. Editing my story over and over again had given me greater perspective and since finishing the manuscript, I had forbade myself to even think about him. I had no interest in going through the formalities of divorce. I worried that if I started the process, he would seek me out, and I wasn’t interested in exposing myself needlessly to emotional pain.
Of course, part of me really hoped that my story would get published and he’d read it, finally coming to realize what he’d done to me. I still preferred walking around naked—as Luke had once insisted I do—and spent most of my time alone in my room in a state of undress. I had also kept the piercings from our wedding night. However, I didn’t fantasize about Luke. I occupied my time with trying to sort out what to do next.
Could I turn my back on the crazy lifestyle I had fallen into? I both relished and abhorred the thought of moving out of Marcello and Janice’s home. I had no idea how much time I should commit to getting published and if people would even want to read my story. Would my girlfriends ever get over my trying to kill myself or should I just relocate to a place where no one knows me and start over? Those were the thoughts that kept me awake at night.
The moonlight poured through my window as I
shut down my computer. I had finally received a nibble on my book from a publisher who asked to see the first three chapters, and then the entire manuscript. Only a few weeks had passed but it didn’t stop me from checking my email obsessively.
Rereading the publisher’s email gave me comfort.
To: [email protected]
From: [email protected]
Subject: Falling Through The Rabbit Hole, a Memoir
Jane,
I've read enough to know that I’d like to see more. Please email the complete manuscript as a Word doc.
I look forward to reading the rest!
Regards,
Claudia
I felt excited but nervous and embarrassed as well. I had changed names, locations, and some of the circumstances—as I’d read online should be done with a memoir—but the story told the truth, at least the truth as I saw it.
After brushing my teeth, I climbed naked into bed with my current erotic romance. I hadn’t heard Marcello enter the room and was startled by his sudden, looming presence.
“Any good?” he asked as he sat down next to me on the bed. His large frame filled the space, dwarfing the room around him.
I folded the corner of the paperback and said, “It’s keeping me entertained so far.” Reaching around him, I placed the book on the nightstand.
He gazed down at me and I could tell he had softened. Had he used Janice again or was it the scotch I smelled on his breath?
“I don’t want to fight with you anymore,” he said. “Having the same argument over and over reminds me too much of my mother and father. Tell me what you need to be able to sign the contract. I want to make this work.” He brushed a lock of my hair away from my face and placed it behind my left ear.
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