by Jason Luke
Joshua stood impotently behind his desk and watched her go. He hated himself. He despised his cruel need to shatter Gabriele’s hopes and dreams. He gulped down the tumbler of scotch and felt the punishing burn of the alcohol in his throat. It wasn’t penalty enough. He turned to the nearest wall and punched a hole in it, feeling the flesh around his knuckles torn apart and a blinding stab of pain leap along his forearm. It came to him through the numbing anesthetic of the alcohol. Gabriele’s heart-wrenching sobs tormented him and compounded his loathing guilt. He snatched up the folder off the desk and tore it into shreds, then went down the hallway, expecting to find the front door flung open and Gabriele gone into the night.
Gabriele was slumped in a corner of the foyer with her knees drawn up to her chin and her arms tightly hugging herself. She had her eyes screwed shut, her head thrown back against the wall, and her face a rictus of dreadful heartbroken pain.
Joshua went to her like he was approaching a timid forest animal.
“Gabriele… I’m so sorry,” he whispered.
She opened her eyes and turned her face to him. The agony and despair in her features plunged at his heart like a knife. “Just tell me why,” she begged him tearfully. “I need to know why.”
Joshua didn’t answer for a long time. He went down on his haunches beside her but his gaze was far, far away. “I told you because I wanted to protect you from yourself,” he said, knowing that it wasn’t a good enough reason for the pain he hand caused, and needing to justify the cruelty. “You were putting yourself through the hell of submission, trying to make yourself the woman that your boyfriend would want… when all the time he was undeserving of you and cheating behind your back.”
She began to sob again. Joshua knew there was only one true answer for what he had done, and he knew too that Gabriel needed to hear it. He drew a deep breath.
“And I did it because when I kissed you last night, I felt the exact same things that you felt. I’m starting to care for you too deeply, and I wanted to drive you away and make you hate me – before it was too late.”
Joshua sat in the darkness for a long time after Gabriele had left for the night. He was in his office, cast in deep shadow, staring out through the bay window, tormented and struggling to come to grips with his feelings.
He sighed into the silence. This was not a place he liked to visit – not a place he had come to often in the past three years. Analyzing and understanding his feelings was like pulling back the flesh of a tender wound and exposing himself to fresh pain.
Joshua shook his head, still struggling to understand how he had developed any feeling at all for Gabriele. She had come to him like so many other women in the past; bright-eyed and filled with a passion for the submissive lifestyle. He had trained too many other women even to remember their faces, let alone their names. And he had remained aloof, professional, and dispassionate with every one of them. None had even come close to the thick armor with which he guarded his heart.
What made Gabriele so different?
Yes, Joshua conceded, she was extremely attractive. She had the figure and features of a model, but below the exterior was a disarming charm because she didn’t realize she was so beautiful. That fact redeemed her from the vanity of so many other women and imbued her with something unique and irresistible.
And yes, he admitted grudgingly – she was brave. He had taught a lot of women, and many of them failed because their fear overwhelmed them. They could never make the gigantic leap across the abyss that required them to shed their own self-image and transform into someone new; someone servile and submissive with a focus on a person other than themselves. Many had fallen by the wayside in the midst of their training because he had challenged them and they had quailed and shrunk away in either embarrassment or humiliation. For many women the appeal of the lifestyle was little more than a passing fad that was found wanting under the first tests. But Gabriele had fought him, and herself. She had stood out from the others because of her resolve and her bravery. Her willingness had won through against every obstacle.
He wondered guiltily whether the kiss had been the moment that had changed everything.
He remembered it still; the softness of her lips and the firmness of her body. The gentle sounds of her passion and the silent scream of her desire for him. The memory was like a wafting scent of perfume forever attached to a significant moment and made unforgettable because of that fact.
Wearily, Joshua pushed himself out of the deep leather chair and made his way to the bathroom. His hand was still seeping blood. He bandaged the swollen, torn flesh… and then made the dreadful mistake of catching himself in the vanity mirror.
He looked like a stranger; the eyes deep set and haunted, the smears cross the ridge of his cheekbones like bruises. Lines around his mouth were cut deep into the flesh, like the freshly chiseled marks of a stonemason. He looked haggard and drawn.
Do you love her?
The question seemed to come from out of the shadowed corner of the room and flash across his consciousness. Joshua checked. He fixed his gaze on his reflection and clutched the edge of the basin as though staring himself down.
No. He didn’t love Gabriele. Not even close. He didn’t know if he would ever love again, but he knew for sure that he wasn’t ready yet.
But he cared about her… and it troubled him deeply. He knew that behind the armor he had shielded his emotions with, was a vulnerable chink. There was something so innocent and open about the woman that it triggered an instinctive protective reaction in Joshua that was ingrained in his nature. The way she had cried unashamedly and bared her soul tugged at an instinct of compassion he thought he had buried and abandoned.
Then another question came from out of the mist, shouted so loud in his mind that he could not ignore it.
What do you fear more than anything else?
Falling in love again.
With that realization, Joshua suddenly knew what he had to do. He had to protect his heart at all costs.
He had to save himself.
He had to end Gabriele’s training.
Gabriele lay on her bed and stared up at the ceiling, gazing blankly at the pattern of shadows made by the city lights through her window.
She didn’t know how to feel. Her thoughts seemed a whirl of emotions, each like a tendril of smoke that she could not cling to long enough to make sense of.
Her eyes were raw and red from crying; she had wept until there were no more tears. Now she felt hollow and somehow aged – as though tonight her youth and innocence had been torn away; torn to shreds.
Try as she might, she couldn’t find it in herself to grieve for the end of the relationship with Randall. The three years she had devoted to him seemed like a heinous sham. She felt betrayed. She felt used. She felt foolish for believing his lies, and for trying to bend herself into the accommodating dutiful girl he had wanted her to be. The effort and the constant eagerness to please him had all been for naught. She was angry that Randall had pushed her to the very brink of suicide. Gabriele shook her head in silent disgust.
Then her thoughts turned to Joshua and the image of his face elicited a whole new set of confused emotions.
His confession had rocked her to the core of her being; taking her by such surprise that all these hours later she was still reeling with the implications and the turmoil.
He had said that he was starting to care deeply for her.
That was what he had said.
She replayed the words in her mind, remembering every detail, from the drawn agonized look in his eyes to the grim set of his mouth. She remembered every inflection of his tone. Then she remembered the moment he had kissed her, and the tumbling sensations and emotions she had felt at that moment, helpless and hungry within the safety of his arms.
Joshua was an enigma she could not understand.
She recognized his reserve even though she could not comprehend his reasoning. And she realized that he was the kind of man who lived h
is life by a strict moral code, and that violating those rules with her had shaken him, perhaps even more deeply than she instinctively understood. Gabriele knew also that a fleeting casual relationship would never appeal to Joshua. He simply wasn’t superficial enough to surrender his standards in exchange for casual sex. Joshua was an ‘all-or-nothing’ man. Gabriele was sure he loved deeply, or not at all.
And Gabriele loved Joshua.
Even in her own mind, the admission sounded like a childish crush without substance. She had known him for such a short time, and yet she could not deny the attraction of the man. She was drawn to his wisdom, his stability, and his sense of right that seemed at such odds in a corrupted world. She was in love with Joshua’s thoughtfulness, and the way he treated her.
Gabriele had no such illusions that Joshua loved her back. He was too complex, too experienced at life to give his heart with the same willingness that compelled her. Joshua was the dark shifting shades of night that she was yet to fully understand, but somehow that made the attraction of him a fascinating mystery that she wanted desperately to unravel.
She was falling in love with a man, and all she could do to keep the flame of her feelings alive was to cling to Joshua, and not let go.
Joshua went upstairs to the big bedroom, the weight of his worry and anxiety hanging like a heavy burden around his neck. He stared at the huge empty bed with a twinge of regret.
It was after midnight, and beyond the twin windows that stood either side of the bed, a storm was gathering in the night sky. Joshua could see far off jags of lightning flicker like sparks of light on the far horizon. He undressed and climbed naked into the bed. His thoughts were jangled and inconsequential; he was restless and unable to find peace. He stared up at the ceiling and, unbidden, his mind filled with images of Gabriele. To distract himself he went naked downstairs to the kitchen and poured himself a large drink. The scotch seemed to seep through his body like a relaxing drug, smoothing away the tension so that he felt lethargic. He tumbled back into bed and dreamed the dreams of a man possessed.
Gabriele edged away from the desk and turned to face him. She smiled demurely. She was wearing tight denim jeans and a white t-shirt. Joshua took a long moment to admire her slim figure and appreciate the perfect form of her breasts beneath the stretched cotton of her top. Her nipples were hard. Even through the lace of her bra, he could see the press of them.
“What is your name?”
“Gabriele,” the young woman breathed. “And I am your destiny.”
“And you have come here to learn the art of sexual submission?”
“Yes.” She said the word like it was an ache in her heart.
Joshua walked a slow circle around Gabriele, inspecting her like she was a warrior’s prize won in the triumph of battle. She stood very still, feeling the heat of his gaze. Joshua saw the flesh along her forearms prickle with anxiety and the first tenuous signs of her arousal.
She stood with her legs together; her back straight. Joshua stepped close behind her and lightly ran his hands over her shoulders, his touch like an appreciative caress. Gabriele shuddered. Joshua heard a choked sob of breath, and her body swayed like a tree in a breeze. His touch glided down her back, feeling the ridges of her spine, playing her body like it was a beautiful musical instrument. Each fresh touch elicited a murmur, a groan, a sigh.
Joshua could feel his own arousal, tightening and clenching in his groin, and he explored her body through her clothes until his hands were sliding across her ass. Gabriele’s aloof composure began to waver. When Joshua wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her back against his hard cock, she shivered deliciously.
He drew a soft kiss across her neck and inhaled the scent of her perfume. Then Joshua’s hand slid beneath the layer of her shirt and reached up possessively to cup one of her breasts. He could feel the hectic beat of her heart through the whorls of delicate lace that held her breasts.
“You are my property,” Joshua whispered tingling warm breath across her throat. “And you will obey me in every way.”
“Yes…” Gabriele whimpered. “…Master.”
Joshua turned her within his arms until they were facing each other. Her eyes were enormous, filled with a tumult of emotions. Joshua saw awe and wonder, desire and nervousness.
But he saw no fear.
She had her face lifted to his, her lips parted and glossy as ripe fruit. Joshua stared fixedly at her, asserting his authority and command through just the intensity of his gaze while beneath her shirt, his hand was busy on her breast, kneading the soft warm flesh of her through the cup of her bra. Her body felt like it was on fire.
“Undress,” Joshua commanded. He stepped back and Gabriele peeled off her t-shirt and dropped it at her feet. Her hectic irregular breathing made her breasts swell with every gasp. She had a peppering of soft freckles across her chest, flushed by the blush of her arousal, but between the cleavage of her bra the flesh was milky white and perfect.
Joshua’s eyes roamed like hungry hands across her body, devouring the exquisite delight of her. She had the flawless firm perfection of youth; her skin glowing and healthy and vital. When she reached for the button of her jeans and then slowly tugged down the zipper, he saw the flat of her abdomen and the top of her panties.
Gabriele hesitated with her thumbs hooked into the waistband of her jeans.
“I am your destiny,” she demurred softly.
“And I am your Master.”
Gabriele closed her eyes and her mouth moved silently as if she were surrendering herself over to some divine force of primal desire that was infinitely greater than her will to resist. She drew down her jeans and Joshua watched in silent appreciation until she stood in just her heels, panties and bra. Her eyes were still closed, her lips trembling. She seemed to cringe with fear of rejection.
She was wearing white lace panties that matched the pattern of her bra. Joshua could see the cleft of her pussy through the folds of gossamer fabric and realized her sex was shaved smooth. The air in the room filled with the raw and intoxicating scent of her musky desire, stronger than any perfume and intensely arousing.
“Take off the bra,” Joshua insisted. There was a husk of lust in the back of his throat. The room became tense and silent.
Gabriele reached behind herself and drew away her bra. Her breasts were firm, seeming too large for the narrowness of her shoulders and the petite lines of her frame. Her nipples were jutting rosy red beads.
The vision of her stole Joshua’s breath away. She was young and perfect.
“This dream could become our reality,” Gabriele’s voice was a call from the deep sea, like the siren song of a beautiful mermaid. “You need only claim me as your own and declare it to the world for all your desires to be made real…”
Joshua woke with a start and a choked cry in his throat. He sat upright in the bed, his face slick with sweat, his hair damp. His eyes were wide and haunted by the intensity of the dream. He searched the room, gasping for breath, his hands trembling.
Beyond the windows the storm had broken; rain spattered against the glass with a sound like thrown gravel, and the sky boiled with wind-driven clouds and flashes of lightning. Thunder rumbled above the vast house.
Joshua drew a deep breath and closed his eyes – but the moment he did, the vision of Gabriele from the dream came flashing back into his mind. He saw her again, topless and standing before him with her bra in her hand, beckoning him to take her. He flung back the bed sheets and clutched for a dressing robe that hung draped over a chair.
Joshua went down the stairs in a hurry, flicking on lights through the house as he made his way to the office.
Chapter 8:
Joshua dialed Gabriele’s number from his office and felt a guilt-ridden moment of cowardly relief when the dial tone re-directed to her voicemail. He glanced at the time. It was after 2 am.
“Gabriele, I’m calling to let you know that there will be no more training. I’m very sorry.” Joshua sai
d the words as stiffly as if he were reading them from a written script. “But I feel I am unable to help you in your goal to understand submission. I apologize for the inconvenience, and I hope you will be able to resume your studies under another Master. I have refunded the full payment of your tuition back into your account.” He paused, aware that the message was still recording awkward silence. “I wish you all the best,” he muttered at last, then hung up.
It was over.
He felt no elation. In fact, he felt an empty melancholy like despair. He had denied himself the pleasure of her body, the stimulation of her company, and the earnest eagerness of her desire to learn – all to protect his heart. It hurt. It ached. It felt wrong…
In the morning, when Joshua awoke, he lay in bed for a long moment with the same remorse that follows a hangover. He felt ashamed; Gabriele had deserved far better than a recorded phone message, but he doubted that he could have clung to his resolve if she had answered in the middle of the night.
How could he ever have explained his reasons and given them legitimacy when they were the dark shadows of his memory?
How could he ever have given his concerns substance when everything that balked him was his own fear of repeated tragedy and pain?
Gabriele would never have understood.
Joshua worked with rare dedication throughout the day, concentrating furiously on every chart and every graph that flashed upon the screen of his laptop. He read every stock report with minute attention and applied himself to the calculations with fanatical scrupulous attention. It was the only way he could block out thoughts of Gabriele; he could give her no space in his mind, for fear that to do so would dull him to debilitation.