Breaking The Mold

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Breaking The Mold Page 15

by Drew Sera


  I made quick work of wrapping Bracken in rope and checked for tightness. I wasted no time and took a strap to her back, the top of her ass, the top of her thighs and took a cane to her exposed breasts.

  Across the hallway, Colin and Anthony were both fucking that sub. As much as I tried blocking out Anthony’s sounds of pleasure, they rang out with crystal clear clarity in my head. It made me strike Bracken harder.

  I wanted to be the bastard that forced him to make those sounds.

  Thwap!

  I wanted to be the one that gave him pleasure and a release through physical pain.

  Thwap!

  I wanted to feel his throat constrict as he choked on his plea for mercy.

  Thwap!

  I wanted to be the one he shamefully sought out for the release that I can give him that isn’t like anything else he’s experienced.

  Thwap!

  “Fuuuuck!” Anthony grunted as he unmistakably came.

  Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

  My eyes were transfixed on Anthony in the other cell. Watching him come down and withdraw from the sub, I imagined the load he just embedded inside her.

  Thwap!

  And right there in the mix of it was Colin fucking Everett.

  Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

  Everett put his fucking hand on Anthony’s shoulder as he sat down on the floor with the girl in his arms.

  Thwap!

  This was something rare; Graves holding the girl afterward. Usually, it’s that fucking prick, Everett, who does the cuddling.

  Thwap!

  Everett walked around in the stall, naked with his dick flopping around. He draped a blanket around the girl and Graves. I clenched my teeth together, and I swear that if my mouth was any tighter, I could have broken some teeth. Colin crouched down and rubbed on the girl’s back over the blanket and kept his hand on Anthony’s shoulder. He was fucking giving care to the girl and Graves.

  I wanted to do something to him that made him need care. I was so fucking pissed.

  Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

  “Red, Master Paul,” Bracken whimpered.

  Red?

  No, not red. I took a step back and looked down at Bracken. Oh, fucking hell!

  “Dungeon Monitor!” I yelled out and knelt down beside Bracken. “Be still, Bracken. I’ve called for a monitor. They’ll bring medical supplies.”

  I looked up at one of the monitors coming into the stall.

  “What happened, Paul?”

  What the hell had happened? I was asking myself the same question. I needed to fess up. I wasn’t paying attention. Not as much as I should have been.

  “I think I got to be too much. I was too rough. I didn’t see the warning signs of her getting close to the edge, and I didn’t keep a close eye on her skin,” I admitted.

  Of course, I didn’t fucking see the warning signs because I was fucking watching what was going on in the other goddamn cell.

  Bracken’s body was a bloody mess. And this girl took everything as much as she could. Fuck! Suddenly I pictured Amy in this condition.

  Soon, Matt was in the cell and took over with cleaning Bracken up. I stayed by Bracken but noticed Colin and Noah standing in the hallway. I wanted to knock the expression right off Colin’s smug ass face. Noah looked as though he knew he could have been in Bracken’s spot tonight.

  “Don’t you need to tend to your boy and girl, Everett?” I called out to him. When he shook his head at me, I became even more annoyed. “Go back to your little girl and boy.”

  “Paul, stop yelling, man,” Matt urged.

  And wouldn’t you know it, fucking Blake arrived. Just perfect. His behavior worried me the most because he hadn’t asked me what had happened. He spoke to Bracken and watched Matt clean and bandage her back.

  “Bracken do you have a roommate or a friend that can help you clean these and bandage them tomorrow?” Matt asked.

  “Yes, Shelby is my roommate. She can help me,” Bracken said.

  Thankfully the young lady had a friend in the kink community to assist with tending to the wounds. I took no pride in what happened. Yes, being rough was what I needed tonight but I hadn’t paid close attention, and because of that, I heard her safe word. I’ve caused a handful of people to say them over the years, but for the most part, I do an exceptional job at maintaining control. I’m able to take them to their edge without going over. Tonight was one of the exceptions.

  Considering what I did to this girl’s back, I was surprised that she was still so talkative. Even more shocking was that she was still talking to me. I sat upstairs with her while she drank a bottle of water and I waited with her until her roommate was finished with her scene and ready to leave.

  Now, somewhere between Irons and home, I needed to sort my head out. I had so many questions now about where I was really heading with Amy. I knew she would be disappointed tonight. With so many questions on my mind, I had no business tying her up.

  All the way home I thought about Amy and our dynamic. I had told myself when she and I started that she would be enough...that I wouldn’t need anyone beyond her. But now that we’ve been living together for a while my urges to cause pain aren’t going away. I can’t turn it off as I thought I might be able to.

  What I felt guilty for was for being wrong. I thought Amy would be enough and I thought I could push those urges away. Clearly, I was wrong. I should have known better.

  And now, Bracken was going home with a torn up back because I was so obsessed with watching a scene involving the man I’d do almost anything to hurt.

  I walked into the house shortly after 10:30 p.m. Amy was sitting up in bed and closed the book in her lap when she saw me. She looked so good. As I stood in the doorway to the bedroom gazing at her, I was reminded of the reason that I’ve tried pushing certain needs and desires away.

  I loved her.

  But I was conflicted.

  I wanted her to be enough, and I even said she’d be enough. But she’s not.

  “How was the study group?” she asked as I pulled off my shirt and headed to the bathroom.

  “It was okay. It wasn’t nearly as beneficial as I had hoped it would be,” I called out from inside the bathroom over the sound of running water.

  “I’m sorry it wasn’t more helpful, J.P.”

  After I took a shower, I joined Amy in bed. She had a playful look in her eyes, but I was mentally tapped out right now.

  “Princess, we’ll play dirty tomorrow. I’m very tired tonight.”

  “It’s ok, we can play tomorrow,” she calmly agreed as she kissed me before scooting down in the bed.

  I shut the lights off and was happy to be putting this evening behind me.

  Over the thunderstorm that raged outside, an incessant knock forced me to a full alert state, and I sat up in bed. As I got out of bed, I found the spot next to me vacant. I made my way toward the knocking noise, wondering who it might be. I didn’t really have friends, and given the time of night, it was likely that I wouldn’t want to see whoever was on the other side of the door. I swung it open and saw someone that I thought I’d never see on my doorstep…Anthony Graves.

  He was soaking wet as he stood there with his hands balled up into fists. His forehead was wrinkled and his eyebrows furrowed. The drenched shirt that clung to his body glimmered when it caught the light as his chest heaved.

  I’ve studied him since he was a young man when he joined Irons and while I couldn’t say that I knew him well, I knew him better than he thought I did. And right now, he was on fire.

  “Graves, what are you doing here?” I asked.

  He looked away and then down at the ground. With his head bowed, more water droplets rushed off his forehead and hair. When he raised his head again, the light from inside the house lit his face up, and I could see the redness in his eyes.

  “Graves?”

  “You said you could make the pain go away.”

  Holy fucking shit…he came around. I took a deep brea
th and stood up straighter.

  “That’s right. I told you that, and I meant it.”

  I saw the struggle he was having with himself.

  “Blake told me not to seek this. He said it would make it worse…but I can’t stand feeling like this anymore.”

  I honestly felt sorry for the guy. He’s been in so much agony over the loss of his father. He tries to hide the pain, but he’s not fooling me. Maybe he fools Blake, but not me. We’re a lot alike. I know he spent time going back and forth to San Francisco for beating sessions. And I won’t lie, I was pissed off about it. I had offered to help him, but he wouldn’t let me.

  Yet, here he is. Finally. I opened the door wider and stepped back, inviting him in.

  “I know you didn’t recover yet from the loss of your dad.” He walked into my home, and I felt a surge of energy as he passed by me. I shut the door and leaned on it as I gazed at him. He was vulnerable and emotionally needy; which is exactly how I wanted him. “I imagine it’s difficult to go from being a spoiled prince and coddled like a little rich fuck to realizing that the world doesn’t revolve around you.”

  I took a few slow steps toward him as I pushed my way into his head. He stood there as still as a stone statue watching me with his stormy gray eyes.

  “Take the soaking wet shirt off, Graves,” I instructed.

  Watching him continue to struggle as he forced himself to comply excited me. The conflict that must be running through his veins is unlike any other. It’s a struggle he’s experienced before I bet. With the wet shirt in his hands and his chiseled wet torso in front of me, I took two more steps toward him.

  His chest didn’t hide the fact that he was breathing hard, though I knew it wasn’t from arousal. He was showing off his control because I knew that this rich little fuck would love to take a swing at me. His self-control was admirable.

  My clenched fist made a slapping noise as I pushed it against his chest, and placed my other hand behind his neck.

  “I will take the pain in your chest away,” I said as I pressed harder against his chest. “But I’ll use physical pain to do it.” I removed my hand from his neck and clasped his side right over that scar he’s had since I met him. “You just have to trust me that everything I do will be in your best interest. Can you do that?” I asked.

  His chest was really heaving now, and I knew it was because of the fucking scar. No one is supposed to touch it, according to him. But he’s desperate right now. He needs relief…and I’m going to give it to him.

  I led him down my hallway to a spare bedroom where I kept my equipment. In my haste to get my chains, I banged into one of the drawers, and suddenly things started looking fuzzy. I kept trying to focus, but it was getting worse.

  Visual clarity came rushing back as the throbbing in my hand became more apparent. I could see the alarm clock on the nightstand perfectly; 2:37 a.m. I pulled my hand out from under the pillow and pieced everything together. It was a dream. I had propelled myself out of what could have been the most incredible dream when I banged my hand against the headboard.

  Chapter Eighteen

  December 2012

  J.P.

  I paced the floor deliberately with slow footsteps as Amy knelt on her hands and knees. Each time I passed by her head, I swung the leather strap in the air purposely to make the swooshing noise. That noise alone could make a little slave or sub shape up quickly.

  We’d fallen into a good pattern of having a few punishment scenes during the week. We started with just one and now were up to three. It’s been very good for me, and I make sure we spread the days apart so she has a chance to recover physically. Once a week just wasn’t enough for me, and each time we played, I would try to slowly increase the intensity to where I was feeling good. She’s doing okay with it but struggled here and there.

  With the leather strap dragging lightly over her back, I asked her the questions I wanted answers to for our play punishment scene.

  “How long were you on the phone today with Samantha?”

  “I’m not certain, Master,” she replied.

  I made a tsking noise just before I slapped the leather strap down on her back.

  “Try again, Amy. How long?”

  “Um, Master I’m really not sure. I think it’s safe to say that it was longer than what I should have been on the phone.”

  I’d give that to her. Since Amy has such a creative mind, it’s very easy for us to ad lib and come up with stuff as we go. There never was a problem with her not being able to keep up with me in that sense…it’s just the physical part she struggles with. I purposely come up with little games that will appear as nothing more than part of the scene, but afterward, it’d creep back into her mind, and she’d wonder if there was any truth to my words during our scene. I liked keeping Amy’s mind moving and her on her toes.

  “Your personal assistant is taking my time and spending my money—”

  “Master, I have offered to pay the phone bill.”

  I stopped in my tracks and beat her ass with the strap until she dropped and curled up.

  No! She’s not supposed to do this!

  Fearing that her safe word was on the tip of her tongue, I tossed the strap down and crouched down beside her. I scooped her trembling body into my arms and carried her to our room. As I sat down on the bed, I pulled a blanket up over us and held her close.

  She just couldn’t go the distance that I needed her to go with our scenes. This was a tough situation to be in because she really was trying and really wanted to be able to, it just wasn’t in her. She had an above average tolerance for pain when I get into her head. Even with that, there’s no challenge to getting into her head.

  Getting into Graves’ head would be a fucking challenge.

  She was obviously upset over the content of our play this evening. And maybe it’s because there was some truth to it that she was already worried about. She knew and had accepted that I gave her an allotment of time on the phone with Samantha. My guess was that she was worried over that. So I delved a little further.

  “I don’t need you to pay the phone bill, Amy. I can, and I will provide for you. You don’t have a book coming out, nor are you working on one. What business could you possibly be conducting with Samantha?” I was genuinely curious.

  “She’s my friend—”

  “You have me, princess. You don’t need friends. She can meet your business needs, but aside from that, you don’t need her.”

  “We’ve been friends for years.”

  “And now you have me.”

  Her focus was in the wrong place, and now I was annoyed. She’s so worried about keeping friends that she’s not concentrating on my needs. I didn’t need Amy’s fucking personal assistant’s opinions clouding her judgment.

  “Amy, you need to work on your pain tolerance. I’m bending as much as I can, but I need you to give a little more. I need you to concentrate on that and not on your personal assistant.”

  “Yes, Sir. I will do better. I’m trying but will work on being better.”

  I snuggled her closer and kissed her forehead. I let my lips linger against her forehead for a few moments.

  “The trick is between your ears, princess. You have to become one with the pain. Be the pain. Embrace the pain. The moment you fear pain, you’ve already lost to it. Put your mind over the matter, Amy. Your strength and what you can endure lies in your mind. It’s not the toughness of your skin or the strength in your muscles or density in your bones…it’s in your head.”

  I kissed her head again and then her lips.

  “Amy, I need you to really try, princess. I need more from you.”

  “I will! I promise I will try harder.”

  I smiled and kissed her lips again.

  “That’s all you have to do sweetheart. Just try.”

  Chapter Nineteen

  May 2013

  J.P.

  Amy and I drove home from Irons mostly in silence. We attempted a scene tonight, and wh
ile she made it pretty far, the cane proved to be too much for her.

  I had just found my stride when she began to buckle. I knew she could have taken more, but she was letting her mind win. Though I knew she was near her breaking point, I continued on with a few more lashes of the cane, hoping she’d regroup and push her fear away.

  But she didn’t. Her mind wasn’t strong enough to endure more, and she gave into fear. Amy hadn’t uttered her safe word yet, but I knew it was near that point. A cough that was deliberately loud enough to catch my attention came from the dungeon hallway. I turned my head and made eye contact with Blake.

  Blake stared at me and held his hands up with his fingers spread and palms facing me. This was a non-verbal cue at Irons to stop what you’re doing, settle down and count to ten, and then reassess or regroup.

  I sighed and nodded, ending our scene. I didn’t speak to her much during our short stint of after care, and she was quiet too. As Amy and I left the care station, Bracken was being guided to a care station by Everett and Graves.

  You’ve got to be fucking kidding me?

  Bracken’s face was flush and her eyes somewhat glazed as they walked past me. Her back was red, but no skin was broken. I felt the need to say something even though I probably should have kept quiet.

  “Bracken, I hope you learned that these tag-teamers can’t give you what you need. Not like me. Not like our time.”

  Bracken was now sitting on Colin’s lap, smiling in her daze. I figured she was in sub-space. Those two fucking guys put her in sub-space. They don’t even play hard! I knew Graves needed it rough, and I think Colin keeps him on a short chain with that.

  “They were pretty amazing,” Bracken said loud enough for me to hear.

  My comeback was about to come out, but I stalled when Anthony stood and made his way toward me. He had that smirk on his face; the one I wanted to knock off his face permanently.

  “Hi, Amy,” Anthony acknowledged Amy with a fucking smile. His smile dropped when he looked at me. “Paul, if you don’t mind keeping it down, please. Bracken had an intense scene, and we’d like to bring her down quietly. Please respect that.” He turned to walk back toward their care station. I was fuming and embarrassed.

 

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