I Need You Too: Stand Alone Novel, Contemporary-Erotic-Suspenseful Romance, Psychological Thriller

by Cynthia P. O'Neill

  I nodded, the realization finally hitting me. “I see where you’re trying to go with this, Carol. I’d tell them it wasn’t their fault and were helpless victims of some bastard’s failed attempts at being able to hold onto a girlfriend and have a natural relationship.”

  “That’s true, but there’s more to it.” Carol looked me in the eyes, making sure she had my full attention. “From my understanding, the mind stays sharp as can be. They know they’re being violated; yet they can’t do anything about it. Their ability to speak, move, and even fight back has been taken away from them. They are helpless to lie there and watch as their bodies are used for whatever sick pleasure the asshole wants.”

  She paused a moment before adding, “Do you think you had any more control over things than they did? Do you know how close you come to dying as a result of being overdosed with that drug?”

  When understanding hit, it felt like a ton of bricks being dropped on me. I barely whispered, “There wasn’t anything I could do, was there?” I looked up into Carol’s face for confirmation, seeing her nod. “No matter what I did, what I thought, I wasn’t in control like I’ve always believed.”

  Marjorie wrapped her arms around my shoulders, giving me a squeeze. “That’s what we’ve all been trying to tell you for nearly two years now. You’re just as much a victim as Gabi was. The blame is entirely on Tom.”

  I sat there stunned by the realization, feeling my own self-imposed chains slowly lifting and breaking away from my body. Kent leaned toward me, slapping me on the arm, “So how are you feeling now, champ?”

  How could I put it into words? I thought about it for a while. “I’ve been carrying around the weight of several heavy chains, believing that I was in control of my actions that night. To realize that no matter what I did the outcome would still be the same, gives me a bit of relief. But I have to be honest…I feel the rage against Tom even more. My life has been chaotic since that damn accident.”

  “I want you to elaborate on why you feel out of control.” Carol stated, while everyone seemed to nod in agreement.

  I waved my hand around, gesturing to everything around me. “I took a life that night, though accidentally, that will forever affect all of you. I hate that I lost four months of my life, my car, my apartment, and everything I held dear. I was about to declare my interest in the girl of my dreams, only to awake and find she’d already moved on. Everything was gone, including my ability to walk. I had to fight for that all over again.”

  Marjorie’s voice was barely audible as she asked, “You were in love with Marissa, weren’t you?”

  Was I that obvious? I looked around, seeing that no one was surprised by her question, so I hung my head in shame as I admitted, “Yes. She had already met Dane in the elevator, but hadn’t started working with him or dating him yet. She was panicked that she didn’t have a permanent job offer and no way to continue living in their rental house beyond graduation. Nate had offered for her to move in with him and his roommates, but I would’ve continually worried about her safety with those two party animals. I had an extra bedroom and had planned to offer it to her that night, should she need it. I was going to let her stay there with free room and board, as long as she did the cooking, until she could find employment and a place of her own.” I took in a deep breath. “I’d hoped being so close would allow our feelings of friendship to grow and love would take its place.”

  Marjorie jumped off the couch and started pacing the room. “How could you?” Her face and her voice held contempt for me. Did I miss something? Does she care for me as more than a friend?

  I opened my mouth to speak, but for the life of me I didn’t know what to say. I looked to Kent and Carol for advice since I assume they’ve dealt with this before.

  Carol got up and wrapped Marjorie in a warm motherly embrace. I watched as she broke down crying in her arms. Carol swept a hand up and down her back to try and settle her. “Honey, you have to understand that you were just getting out of an abusive marriage, not even knowing who Ethan was then. Apparently, Ethan loved Marissa enough to see her happiness and let her go.”

  I’d never thought of things in that perspective before. It’d been hard at first to see Dane and Marissa together, but given what Nate had told me in regards to her psyche, a result of Tom’s abusive words and actions, Dane had been perfect for her. I might have failed to be able to help her. I openly admitted, “I only wanted her happiness even if it wasn’t with me. It hurt, but I knew I needed to let go.”

  I watched as Marjorie started to calm down- Carol convincing her to take her seat beside me.

  Kent piped up, changing the subject a bit. “You’ve said that you felt out of control. I’m guessing it’s due to everything changing around you, but what about now? You’ve had choices made for you, only been responsible for yourself and no one else, but this week you’ve been making decisions with Marjorie’s welfare and safety in mind. How does it make both of you feel?”

  I’D ALREADY NOTICED THAT Ethan seemed a bit more relaxed when he was in charge, a hidden dominant quality only someone in the lifestyle would recognize. I waited on bated breath for his answer.

  “It’s hard to explain, but I feel more at ease, more in control as a result. Is that wrong?” Ethan pondered.

  I knew what Kent was trying to do. He was trying to get Ethan to admit his dominant tendencies and me my submissive ones. “I liked having someone else in control. I wouldn’t mind if it continued,” I admitted sheepishly, wondering what Ethan would think of me.

  Ethan looked at me like I’d grown an extra head. “You like me making the decisions for you?”

  I nodded. “I like some dominance, someone else in charge.”

  He panicked, “But I’m not into that shit? I don’t want to whip you, beat you, or have anything to do with that crap.”

  Why did you have to open up Pandora’s box, Kent? If looks could kill, Kent would be really hurting by now.

  Kent’s clinical side emerged, “Dominance can take on many forms. I think you have a misconception as to the nature of a BDSM lifestyle. If you loved Marissa, as you claimed, would you allow her to be with someone who’d beat or abuse her? Would you allow Nate, a known Dom, to hurt Marjorie’s sister? For that matter, do you think Marjorie would allow it, given her past? Would Dawn be with Rafe if she was experiencing anything close to what Liam had done?” Damn him! He was setting me up to divulge everything.

  I leaned away from Ethan, taking in his expression. I could see the wheels turning in his mind as he processed all the information. He sunk back into his seat, throwing his hands in the air in defeat. “Okay, so apparently I’ve come to some bad conclusions. Maybe there’s more to this than what I’m willing to admit. By all means, enlighten me.”

  He turned to me and asked point-blank, “I want to know things from your perspective. Obviously, you’ve had something go terribly wrong. What is the best and worse this lifestyle has to offer, including why your uncle mentioned you needed to see a doctor?”

  My mouth hung open. I knew the discussion was coming but to ask me about the lifestyle in my point of view? I had no clue where to begin.

  Carol came over and sat on the edge of the coffee table, putting her hands on mine, grabbing my attention. “Honesty is the best policy, hon. Why not start with how you got into the BDSM lifestyle, and what it has meant for you to try both sides of things.”

  Ethan looked at me with wide eyes. “You’ve been both a Domme and a submissive?”

  I could feel the blush rise against my cheeks. This wasn’t going to be easy. “I grew up in a family full of dominants with the exception of Gabi who discovered she was a switch.”

  “A what?” He’d asked, looking confused already.

  “It means that she could float as either a Domme or a sub, pending her mood and who she was with. She grew up with Jackson and they’d experimented, training as both, but when they got together, she took on a more submissive role while he rose to being her Dom and eventua
lly her Master once they were married.”

  “But why not just have fun within the confines of their marriage; why have to label themselves in a lifestyle? I’m not sure I follow.” He admitted.

  “Being in love and married to the person you have deep feelings for is great, but we like to take it a step further. It’s not enough to just be married, to just be in a Dom/sub relationship. By the submissive accepting a collar, we are pledging our love and devotion to that person only. It’s a claiming of sorts in our lifestyle. While a wedding ring can be a deterrent, it doesn’t mean that the individual is entirely true to their spouse. They could be a swinger wanting to mess around with other couples, or they could be cheating on their spouse trying to find excitement with another. Whereas accepting a collar means that the dominant is truthful and faithful to that sub. He/she is claiming them as belonging only to them.”

  I looked up to see if he was following what I was saying before I continued. “In turn the submissive promises to be faithful and devoted only to their dominant. The collar keeps people away and binds the couple more deeply than marriage.”

  “But how? I’m still not sure I follow.”

  “The submissive is surrendering their control over to the dominant, trusting them completely with their mind and their body to give them the ultimate pleasure experience. They trust their Master to know them completely, to know what their limits are, and to guide them to the most pleasurable experiences one could ever have.”

  I could feel the smile creep onto my face, recalling some fun times. “As a Domme, I wanted my sub to surrender himself completely to me, letting me guide his enjoyment, as well as my own. It was a heady experience making all the decisions for someone else, knowing I had complete control. But it left me feeling empty. At the time, I had too much control over my life. I didn’t want to control the bedroom too. In training, I first had to learn to submit in order to know how to effectively guide my sub. It was in being a Domme, however, that I realized I received greater satisfaction when someone else made the calls, decided my pleasure, and either rewarded or punished me accordingly.”

  Ethan sat up straight and pointed his finger around at all of us. “See! That right there is why I’m against it. You said you were punished.”

  Kent chimed in. “A proper dominant knows when and how to punish. We all have to adhere to certain guidelines in the club. For those living the lifestyle outside of the club, we continue those same rules. Punishment is only given if the submissive willfully disobeys a directive from their dominant. The directives are meant to protect, care for, and love the submissive. The punishments aren’t bad, mostly consisting of spanking with your hand, a paddle, or maybe a flogger.” He looked over to Carol and shrugged a bit, “The definition of punishment is based on what you and your submissive have agreed to. It can include things as orgasm denial or forced orgasms; the list is open to interpretation.”

  I could still see Ethan’s confusion. “There are many levels of BDSM, just like there are many levels of marriage. Some marry for convenience, for love, for money, or out of responsibility. BDSM for our families are strictly for a deeper sexual bond between partners. We like a little bondage, some dominance, and even submission,” I felt a shiver of excitement run through me on the last word, “but none of us are sadists or masochists. We’re not into pain. Our punishments are only meant to show we mean business, not to inflict injury or pain. Granted, there are some people in the lifestyle who thrive off of it; they are called pain sluts. We have a few at the club, but that’s why we have Dungeon Masters who monitor what’s going on in the various areas. They’re present to make sure things don’t get out of hand.”

  “Which we’ve had happen a few times, resulting in some counseling,” Carol confessed. “It’s not what we like. We operate on a ‘Safe, Sane, and Consensual’ approach at the club. Any violation of that and the person is permanently removed from our establishment.”

  “Why does anyone want to get into this lifestyle? Why would you all subject yourselves to it?” He’d asked honestly.

  “We grew tired of plain old vanilla sex and wanted to bring a little spice to our marriage. We all knew one another, so the Prescotts and the Lombardis joined us in checking out a club in Tampa. We learned through them, but got tired of driving back and forth to the club. We decided to open one here in Orlando with the help of one of their managers.” Kent openly stated.

  I knew the question was coming, so I went ahead and answered. “I saw my cousin Dane out of control, having a hard time fitting in at high school and later college. I knew Kent worked with him to help him focus and saw how much it changed him. I later watched as other cousins and friends decided to check things out on their own. I quickly learned I was more submissive, but unlike my sister I didn’t fight my tendencies

  “I liked putting my trust into someone else to guide me. That’s how I met James. He’d started out as my submissive, with me teaching him how to be a proper dominant, then as time progressed and he swept me off my feet, I started submitting to him.”

  I took a deep breath in, knowing I was about to jump off the precipice of no return. “I’d been lonely, hadn’t dated much, basically a loner, only living for work and the club when James came along. He did everything I asked of him and then turned the tables, making me crave submission and being honest with myself about my desire to have someone else control me. Like most everyone, I only liked private scenes, never being one for exhibitionism. He took me to levels I’d never been before, and I thought it was love. I agreed to marry him when he proposed only a few months later.”

  Ethan’s brows furrowed, “Did you date at all? How long were you together before being married?”

  I shook my head. “We only had the club and our sexual interludes in common. I mistook lust for love. I didn’t have a positive self-image and took his kindness as love. My parents were dead set against the marriage, forcing him to sign a prenuptial agreement since I had a trust fund I was about to inherit and he worked in a bank. He signed, but we agreed to elope in Vegas to avoid all the conflict we were facing.”

  I looked down at the carpet, not wanting to see anyone’s face, as the next part was the hardest to talk about. “The month prior to us eloping, the honeymoon, and even the month after our marriage was sheer bliss. We’d purchased a small house in a nice neighborhood, complete with the white picket fence, but it was all an illusion.

  “The dominance you’re afraid of is exactly what James became. He didn’t offer me an engagement ring, saying they were a waste of money. He wanted to collar me, but not with an intricate design like my family uses – instead opting for an actual dog collar, making me feel humiliated.”

  I looked up at Ethan, knowing there were tears in my eyes, “That’s what he was into, degradation. I only learned of it too late to do much about it. He didn’t want a Master/sub connection; he wanted a slave.”

  I heard him slam his fist down in the cushions, yelling out, “That bastard!”

  Carol kept hold of my hands, reassuring me with gentle squeezes. “You’re doing good, sweetie. You’ll feel much better if you finally get this out into the open. When you do, I want you to release it out into the air around you and close yourself off from ever letting it enter you again. You have power over it, not the other way around. Got that?”

  I nodded. I took in a deep breath and continued. “After the first month his behavior did a total one-eighty. In most relationships, the lifestyle is reserved for the bedroom and for play only.”

  He interjected, “Can you elaborate?”

  Kent spoke up. “We only like the Dom/sub roles in the bedroom or when we’re playing. I like that Carol has a powerful job, can match me intellectually during the day, and can take the lead on things if needed. But given her caseload, she likes to surrender control over to me to let her escape her mind for a while. I need the sense of control in the out-of-control world we live in. Does that make sense?”

  I watched as Ethan nodded. “I thin
k I get where you’re coming from. You’re wanting a sense of power when you feel you don’t have any, while she’s wanting to take a break from things and just let go.”

  Kent clapped his hands together. “Now you’re getting it. For a true lifestyle relationship, we don’t want to abuse or boss around our women; we want to cherish them. It’s always a give and take in our lives.”

  I placed a hand on Ethan’s knee to draw his attention back. “That’s the ideal lifestyle, but with James he started coming between my family and friends. I was told to be home by certain times, my phone calls were monitored and limited, my clothing, food, everything was decided for me. I had no choices left.”

  “What did he do?” Ethan’s words were as cold as his stare.

  “I was to be home by 5:30 every evening. I was to remove my clothes, put on his collar, cook his food and have it hot and ready on the table before taking my pose on the floor by the door. Sometimes he’d allow me to eat with him, most times I was to remain on the floor by his side while he fed me.” I could feel the tears streaming down my face, “He called me a fat pig that no one would want to fuck, so he controlled my food intake forcing me to lose weight.”

  His anger was palpable in the air around us. “And if you didn’t comply?”

  “I was punished. It started out first with him denying me the ability to come. He would get his kicks screwing me numerous times. It didn’t matter if I was wet enough or not, he took what he wanted, when he wanted. Then he started torturing me with toys, trying to elicit an orgasm from me – trying to force me to come against his wishes so he could really punish me.”

  “Which was?”

  My words were broken with my sobs. “He whipped me repeatedly. It started with spanking until I couldn’t sit down. Then when I started fighting back, he bound me to the bed on my stomach while he whipped me. But, that wasn’t the worst.”