I slump to the tiled shower floor and can’t help but curl into myself.
How? How after so many years can he still be here? How can he still have this effect on me?
“Go away, it hurts.” The tears are now streaming down my face, mingling with the water of the shower. I can’t feel them, but I know they’re there.
“Mason,” I sigh in a small voice.
“Please, Mase, I need you.” My voice now is so tiny, and so defeated.
He’s touch is everywhere, I can see him, I can even smell his distinct beer and onion smell blending together.
“I’ve brought a friend home tonight, he wants to play too,” he says against my ear as his stubble scratches my face.
A shiver runs down my spine and I contract every part of my body.
“No, it hurts,” I say through tears. “Please, no more. I can’t keep doing this.”
I know what’s coming, that all-consuming feeling of dread and sheer anticipation’s overtaking me.
I clench my ass together, not wanting them in there.
My throat closes and I’m struggling to breathe. I can’t take this life anymore.
Please just stop, Damien.
My stomach contracts and starts to spasm.
Please, Uncle Damien, please stop.
I shut my eyes tight and just wait.
Wait for the strong hands to take me and flip me on my stomach.
Please, no more.
I wait for them to pin me down.
No.
I wait to vomit because they make me take them in my mouth.
I can’t.
My entire body’s trembling and my minds overtaken with the pain and the sorrow of a life I hope to one day leave behind.
I’m so alone.
I’m so afraid.
I’m so tired.
No more, let me die.
Slumped and curled in a ball on the shower floor I allow the water to lull me back from my horror. The coolness of the water finally lifts me out of the cold and tired fog that clouds and embraces me.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been in the shower, all I know is that I’ve not had such a huge anxiety attack in years.
Mason, Stella and him were all so forceful and clear in my thoughts.
But they’re so different.
And I just don’t comprehend what’s happening.
Falling into bed, I’m left in a haze of dread as I’m entwined in a web of grief and despair.
Chapter 6
“Ryan,” I hear a loud booming voice.
“Ryan,” the voice bellows again.
I open my eyes to sunshine creeping in to my room, but not into my heart.
Knock.
Knock.
“Fuck off, Mason, I’m sleeping.”
“No you’re not or you wouldn’t be talking to me. Now open the fucking door.”
I smile and know he’s got me there.
As I get up, I slip a t-shirt on over my head, because I don’t want to be put in the tempting position of having Mason’s hands touch me.
Opening the door, Mason’s leaning up against the door jamb, still in his tux from last night.
His bow tie is unknotted and swung loose over his neck. His hair’s out of the pony tail and sits in an unkempt sexy way on his shoulders.
“How was your night?” I ask.
“Great,” Mason says as he smirks. “Really great.” He averts his eyes and looks past me.
“Good, I’m happy for you. So why’s it necessary to wake me up?”
“Um, well I was thinking of going and grabbing some breakfast. You wanna join me?”
“Sure, give me fifteen.”
“I’ll call the driver then jump in the shower,” Mason says as he walks away from me.
“Okay,” I half mumble, but I don’t think he’s heard me.
As I get dressed I can’t help but wonder how good a night Mason had.
And I also can’t help but wish that I was part of it with him.
And Stella.
Christ, how I just want to touch her.
To inhale her perfume and have it embedded so deep into my soul that I’ll never forget the flowery scent of freesias mixed with vanilla.
I’m desperate for her perfectly painted deep green orbs to see me again. To reach inside my soul and grasp the past, rip it away in a hastened pace and save me from the depths of agony and remorse that’s immersed within.
“You ready?” Mason calls from the other side of my bedroom door.
I open it as I’m tightening my belt around my waist of the jeans I’m wearing.
Mason looks unbelievably great.
Dressed in a pair of loose fitting jeans and a dark blue Henley long sleeve shirt, he turns and walks away as he fixes his hair back with an elastic band.
It’s then that I see a red mark around his wrist of his left hand.
I take large strides to reach him and grab onto his arm while I push him up against the wall.
“What the fuck’s this, Mase?” I say as I push his sleeve up to examine the red welt.
“It’s fine.”
“Fine? It doesn’t look fine to me, who did this?”
I stand tall and can feel the fire starting to brood and bubble away.
“Ryan, I told you. It’s perfectly fine.” Mason snatches his hand away from me, and shoulders past me.
“Fuck, Mase. Who the fuck hurt you?” I go after him, because I need to know so I can kill the mother fucker that put his hands on my Mason.
“No one did anything to me that I didn’t want to happen.”
What the fuck?
“What?” I’m temporarily floored by his response.
I know those marks, I’ve seen them before.
They were on my ankles, but never on my wrists, because that would’ve been in too much of a prominent position.
“It’s nothing, okay? Just leave it,” Mason says as he reaches the door and pulls down his sleeve.
“We have to talk about it. You have to tell me what happened so I can help you. If you don’t tell me, then I’ll assume the worse and I’ll fucking go after anyone I can. Just tell me, please.” I walk behind him as we reach the car.
We’re in the back of the town car, and Mason looks out the window.
My eyes are glued to him, watching for every possible emotion he may be going through. But, he looks…… happy.
I don’t push him and I certainly don’t say another word as we travel to where ever we’re going.
“Sir?” Again, like last night I’ve been snapped out of my trance by the driver that holds the door open for me.
Mason and I walk quietly toward a small up market deli.
We find seats near the back, and sink into the booth opposite each other.
Mason’s wearing a baseball cap and dark set sunglasses, hiding his actor face away from people that may recognize him.
“Hey, order me bacon and eggs, and a black coffee will ya?” Mason asks as he buries his head in the menu.
Within minutes, a pretty young brunette bounces over to our table with a note pad and a huge smile.
“Hi there, folks. Welcome to ‘Eat, Eat, Eat’. What can I get for you on this lovely Sunday morning?” she says in a cheery yet, not fake voice. She actually looks like she’s enjoying being here.
“We’ll have two bacon and eggs, extra crispy bacon, and the eggs poached please. And two black coffees, too.” I give her the order and she smiles at me and walks away, not paying Mason any attention at all.
“C’mon, what’s going on?” I say to Mason as I give him a pointed look at his wrists.
“Well, it’s sort of like this,” he starts.
I sit forward and lean my elbows up on the table between us, paying close attention to what he has to say.
“It’s none of your business, Ryan. Just know that whatever Stella and I do, she has my permission.”
“Fuck, you piss me off. What is it? Role play?” I watch as Mason’s bottom l
ip twitches and turns up at the corners.
“Bondage?” I say but this time his mouth curves into a huge smile.
“You’re into bondage?” I ask totally thrown by the pleasing look he’s emanating.
“It’s all consensual, so no need to freak the fuck out or get angry with me.”
Angry? He thinks I’m angry with him?
“I wasn’t angry with you. I was just worried that you were being hurt.”
“I was being hurt, Ryan. But I fucking loved every single minute of it,” he says in a husky low tone.
“Right, okay. Um…..”
“Oh, I’m staying with Stella for a couple of nights this week. Is there any chance you can get Lucy on Friday and we can go out to do something? I’ve been called back to the set early and need to leave next Sunday,” Mason says as he takes a sip of coffee that the waitress has brought.
I’m still trying to gather my thoughts on what he’s just revealed to me.
“Ryan, can you get Lucy next Friday or not?”
“Um, sure. I’ll ask Jo, I’m sure she’ll be fine with it though, did you have anything in mind?”
What a damn clusterfuck. Bondage? Really?
But pretending that nothing’s wrong, is something I’ve always been able to do.
Hiding behind the mask that engulfs my life, that’s something I’ve perfected.
“Well, I’d like to take Lucy out for the day. Maybe movies, the county fair, lunch, things like that. We can leave early Saturday morning.”
Alarm bells instantly scream in my head.
I’ve known Mason for most of my life, and I’m sure he’d give his own to guard Lucy.
“Sure, we can get an early start. I’ll be hanging with my best friend and my best girl. Nothing’s better than that.”
I sneak a look at Mason, and don’t see any signs of disappointment.
Nothing screams pedophile to me, but predators make their victims and their families feel comfortable, gaining trust, luring their prey in before they strike.
“You, my brother, and Lucy will have the time of your lives. Leave it all up to me.”
The waitress returns with our breakfast, and places it in front of us.
“Thank you,” Mason and I both say together to the young lady.
She glances between us, and immediately recognizes Mason.
She smiles and bats her long eye lashes to him. He ignores her and grabs the salt, sprinkling it over his eggs.
She leaves, but not before giving him a look of pure sex over her shoulder.
“I reckon if you hurry up, you could tap that,” I say as I jut my chin out to the waitress.
“Firstly, she’s way too young. Like what, twenty or so? And secondly, Stella would kick my ass, and not the way I enjoy it.”
“You brought it up, man, so I’m gonna ask.” I stop eating and put my fork down. “I get your relationship is, different, but do you love her? Does she love you?”
“No way, it’s not like that with us. We have an arrangement. It’s a mutually beneficial agreement.”
“So it’s like a Dom and sub relationship? She tells you what to do and you do it?”
“You, brother, have no fucking idea about the lifestyle. Do some research,” he says as he continues chewing on his bacon.
I’m curious.
Bondage is about whips, chains, degradation and the sub losing all control to someone who wants to play God.
Isn’t it?
Chapter 7
“When we get home, you’ll have to thank me properly for picking you up,” Damien says as we climb in the car.
He reaches his hand out as I close my legs tight together, but that doesn’t stop him. Instead he pries them open and slides his cold wrinkly hand down the front of my shorts.
Christ I hate this, the way he touches me.
But, I’m hard. And I just can’t help it.
“I’ve got a surprise for you, something you’ll enjoy. But I had to buy lube for this one,” he says as he throws his head back and chuckles.
I sit up in bed and grab for my throat.
Fuck.
It’s only a dream.
He’s not here.
I wipe my hand through my hair and feel that it’s drenched in sweat.
I’m too wound up to go back to sleep, so I go sit by the window and move the curtains back, just staring out at the black of the night.
There’re so many thoughts that are jumbled and desperate to break through the barriers of my mind.
Mason, am I attracted to him because he’s a sensual and beautiful man? Or is it because of what he did to me and I crave that touch to feel normal?
Mason’s always been around. Even when he was going through his own demons, I’ve constantly wondered, what if?
Nothing’s eventuated between us, but it seems to be getting more difficult to keep resisting this pull that I can’t deny.
And Stella, it was last Saturday when I saw her and I can’t get her out of my mind.
The way she looked at me, her eyes so green and so piercing. They penetrated deep inside as they hauled my entire being toward her lively soul.
Is that why I’m so desperate to be near her?
It’s almost like I’m addicted to pleasing her, even though all that happened was no more than a slight touch.
I close my eyes and see her standing in front of me, her blonde hair is in a perfect straight style, her breasts are teasing me with that sexy dip between them, illustrating her alabaster flawless skin.
Mason stands next to her and kisses her, his tongue peeks out as he gently licks her bottom lip.
He turns to me, extends his hand and curls his fingers up, calling me over.
I walk slowly toward them and weave my hand through Mason’s hair. I pull his mouth to mine and nip on his bottom lip.
God, I want him so much.
“Now now, don’t forget me,” Stella says as she stands behind me. Her body flattens against my back and her hands go under my shirt. With just her fingertips she traces the contours of my abs, running them up and circling my nipples as her hot mouth sucks the sensitive skin on my neck.
Mason pushes himself into my front, and I can feel his hard-on pressing into my own arousal.
“Hmmm,” I moan as Mason’s teeth graze my tongue.
“I’d love to watch my two sexy playthings kissing. Give me a show, make me want you. Make me need you both,” Stella says as I feel her slip away from me.
My back instantly cools when she moves away and a cold shiver runs up the length of my spine.
It also snaps me out of the fantasy I was having of being between Stella and Mason. The fantasy that’s left me stroking myself and craving that exact attention from them.
But it’s also left me even more perplexed and confused about everything that’s happening inside me.
It feels so monumental and so colossal that I’m being consumed by the darkness and the total uncertainty of my life.
Fuck it, I can end it all right now and not feel any more confusion, or any more pain.
I’ll never have to remember what he did to me, and I’ll never have to look at myself in the mirror again with the knowledge that I’m completely ruined.
Fuck it.
Fuck it!
Fuck him.
Fuck this life.
I can’t do it anymore.
I can’t keep going.
I stand and pick up the chair I was sitting on, I throw it with every ounce of power I have and it hits the wall and the legs explode with one hurtling toward the window. The useless chair falls to the floor and lays hopelessly in pieces.
Fuck it.
Picking my TV up, I smash it with all my energy to the ground.
Fuck it.
Fuck it all.
I hate it.
I topple the book case over and all my books scatter and spread like the worthless junk they are.
Like I am, insignificant and nothing.
“Ryan,” Mason
swings the door open and yells at me.
I turn and see him standing inside my room; he looks completely bewildered and utterly stunned.
I can’t even hear myself speaking, the rage has taken over and I know I’m yelling, but I don’t know what I’m saying.
I hate myself.
I hate my life.
I hate him.
I hate them all.
I pick up the closest thing to me and I throw it at Mason, he moves to the side and it hits the door jamb and smashes into tiny pieces.
I can’t control it; I can’t seem to make myself stop.
I don’t want to make myself stop, I just want to hit.
My eyes turn to finds Masons’, and it’s right at that moment that I want to smash him.
It’s his fault I’m so desperate to kiss him, it’s his fault that I want to feel what his touch is like and it’s his fault I want to taste him.
I can see his mouth opening and closing, but I can’t fucking hear a word he’s saying.
I run for Mason, and he takes a step back as he brings his hands up in a defensive state.
“Ryan, you’re safe here,” he says.
Those words stop me dead in my tracks. I’m within inches of punching him, my hand’s balled up in a fist and I’ve pulled it back ready to pound his pretty boy movie star face in.
“You’re safe here. No one can hurt you,” he confidently says as he takes a step closer to me.
I’m shaking my head no, not believing what he’s saying.
Everyone can hurt me.
“You’re safe, Ryan. I won’t let him hurt you,” Mason whispers as he takes another step closer.
What’s happening to me?
Why are his words so significant?
“Let me help you.” Mason’s arms come up and he’s wrapped them around me in a tight embrace.
I try to break away, but he just restricts his grip. I fight it, this damn connection.
“I’ll protect you, you’re safe,” he says in a hushed tone.
I’m still struggling, but I can feel resolve as my body begins to relax in Mason’s arms.
Mason kisses my forehead and I lose the slim hold of control I was barely holding on to.
My arms encircle him and I start crying.
The tears are falling as my spirit finally shatters.
I can’t pretend anymore that I’m okay.
Mason and I fall to the ground together, but his arms don’t move from the protective cage around me.
Yes, Master Page 4