by Sue Horsford
I’d dressed in my other new dress, a tailored black and white dogtooth checked dress with a wide shiny black belt which emphasized my waist. My necklace didn’t go with the dress, but I had to wear it as I’d be seeing my Master.
“You’re very glam today,” said Steph when she came in.
I turned away, not wanting to look her in the eye.
“Oh, okay. I don’t want to know. Please don’t tell me.”
I was alone in Kay’s office when he phoned and I shut the door. “Hello.”
“Did you behave yourself last night?” His voice was soft and warm in my ear, and I breathed in sharply.
“Yes.”
“Pardon?”
“Yes, Sir,” I almost whispered. If I was heard saying that in here, I’d be lynched.
“Do you know why I forbade you to touch yourself?”
“No, Sir.”
“I want you to remember that I’m in control all the time, even when I’m not with you.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How does that make you feel?”
How did it make me feel? I’d never felt more alive. “I like it, Sir.”
“I’m glad you like it, sweetheart. I want you to do something for me. I hope you’re wearing a dress.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Good. If you ever come to see me wearing trousers, I’ll tear them off you and send you home in your underwear. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.” Would he really carry out his threat? I didn’t want to risk it. I got the feeling Gabriel was very much a man of his word.
“Are you wearing underwear now?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“I want you to take off your panties and leave them off until I tell you to put them back on.”
I gasped. “Yes, Sir.”
“Do you know the car park near the shore at the bottom of Banks Road?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“Meet me there at five-thirty.”
He hung up without waiting for an answer, and I went off to the bathroom, where I took off my panties and stuffed them into the bottom of my handbag.
For the rest of the afternoon, it was as if I’d been drugged. All I was aware of was the heaviness of my torque about my neck and the cool air between my legs. The center was very quiet and I didn’t have to see anyone, for which I offered up a silent prayer of gratitude.
How could I sit and listen to a woman saying she was controlled by her partner, told what to wear, told when she could leave the house, forced to have sex against her will and beaten when she broke the rules, rules that were dreamed up by him and changed arbitrarily at a moment’s notice until she was so confused she thought everything that happened to her was her fault? How was I supposed to advise her that no man had the right to tell her what to do, that no human being had the right to control another person, while I sat there knees pressed together because my Master had ordered me to remove my underwear and I’d obeyed him? I knew that the lifestyle I was embarking upon had nothing whatsoever to do with abuse and that my submission to Gabriel was a choice I had freely made. Still, I could understand how some people might not be able to make that distinction. I could see that reconciling my work life and my personal life was not going to be easy.
Gabriel’s Alfa Romeo was the only car in the car park and I parked next to it and got out. Gabriel wasn’t in his car and I stood hesitating, unsure of what to do next. It had started to rain on the way over, and I was about to get back in my car to wait but then I noticed him standing a little way into the grove of trees that surrounded the car park on three sides.
I ran over to him, so happy to see him that I wanted to throw my arms about him and tell him I loved him, but that wasn’t part of the game.
His hair was damp and starting to curl at the ends, and I reached up to push it out of his eyes, but he caught my wrist easily. He pulled my arm back down, and before I knew what he was doing, he’d restrained both wrists behind my back in one hand. With his other hand, he grabbed the hem of my dress and yanked it up around my waist, tucking it into my belt so I was exposed to him. Then he pulled me behind a tree so we couldn’t be seen from the car park and he pushed his knee between my legs, forcing them apart. He ran his fingers up my thigh and when he reached my sex, he found me ready and open for him.
There was no teasing this time. He knew what I wanted. He parted my lips and penetrated me with one long finger, thrusting deep inside while he found my clitoris with his thumb. I groaned and bit my lip in ecstasy. Gabriel smiled at last. He pushed another finger inside my pussy then a third, and I choked back a cry as he finger-fucked me hard and fast, his thumb stroking my clit.
He still hadn’t spoken a word and, as the rain started to come down more heavily, soaking us both, I seemed to have entered some surreal fantasy. The tree bark scraped against my back. The fresh earthy scent of the wet grass filled my nostrils. I became a wild, primitive woman, an animal whose mate was taking her in the woods, mastering her. Gabriel’s eyes seemed to have darkened and I couldn’t tear my gaze away from them. I tried to move my arms, but his fingers gripped my wrists like manacles and I was totally immobile.
Just like last night, the feeling of utter helplessness, the feeling that I belonged to him, that he could do with me whatever he pleased, took me to a place I’d never been before and I groaned in utter ecstasy. Then my whole body stiffened as my orgasm surged through me and I cried out, not caring if anyone heard me. My knees buckled and I would have fallen had it not been for Gabriel holding me up. His fingers were merciless, not stopping until he’d wrung the very last drop of my orgasm out of me and I was begging for mercy.
He released my hands then, and, cupping my face in his hands, he kissed me so tenderly that my heart contracted with love for him and once again tears came into my eyes.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Gabriel spoke at last. “Why are you sorry, sweetheart?”
“Every time I see you I end up in tears.”
“I hope they’re tears of pleasure?” he asked, lifting my chin and smiling down at me.
I nodded.
“Well that’s good, then. Sometimes I’ll make you cry with pleasure, sometimes I’ll make you cry with pain, but, pleasure or pain, I hope it will always be exquisite.”
I looked up at him through my tears, his face so stern, handsome and thrilling. Had I gone past the point of being able to stop this?
“It’s time we were going,” he said. “Get dressed.”
“What about your pleasure?” I asked him as I wriggled into my underwear.
“I can wait,” he said.
The rain had stopped and we walked back to our cars.
“Next Friday,” he said. “Think of an excuse to stay out late. You’re spending the evening at my house.”
I drove away, watching in my rearview mirror as he got into his car, then a thought struck me. I hadn’t asked him whether he’d heard from Ginny and I realized I didn’t really want to know.
Chapter Seven
“She has no consideration for others, your sister,” said my mother, looking at her watch for the third time. “Always puts herself first. She won’t keep hold of that lovely man for long, believe me.”
I kept quiet. It wasn’t my place to tell her it was over before it had hardly begun.
She tutted. “Are you sure you told her half past twelve?”
I sighed. Sometimes conversations with my mother felt like Groundhog Day. “Yes, Mum. You know what she’s like.”
“Oh, I know you think she doesn’t do it on purpose, but I think she likes to keep people waiting. It makes her feel important. You’d think she could have made a bit of an effort for my birthday if nothing else.” She checked her watch again. “It’s one o’clock. If she’s any later we’ll end up going for tea instead of Sunday lunch.”
There was a knock at the door and I got up and went out into the hall.
“She’s on the warpath,” I warned Ginny as I opened the door.
“When isn’t she?” She followed me into the living room. “Sorry I’m late,” she said loudly as if Mum was going deaf.
“No, you’re not,” said my mother. She turned round to pick up her handbag and Ginny pulled a face behind her back.
“We were just talking about your lovely new man,” my mother said.
“Oh, yeah, Gabe said he had lunch with you.” She smiled tightly but didn’t volunteer any other information.
“We were just saying it wouldn’t last very long, weren’t we, Faye?” said my mother.
I stared at her in disbelief. “No. You were saying that. I never said a word.”
Ginny glared at her. “Why would you say that?”
“Because a man like Gabriel wants an equal, dear. I’m sure he’s flattered that a girl of your age and looks is interested in him, but he’s bound to get bored eventually.” She gave a pained smile as if she was doing Ginny a favor by telling her this. After all, disillusioned by her own life, she naturally saw it as her maternal duty to make sure we were always prepared for the worst.
“I don’t have to listen to this!” Ginny shouted. She ran out of the flat, slamming the door behind her.
“I’ll go after her,” I said.
I caught up with her at the main door. “Ginny, take no notice. You know she doesn’t mean to be hurtful. Come back in.”
“She’s right, though, isn’t she? I know I’m not as clever as Gabe.”
“That doesn’t matter.”
Ginny slumped down on the stairs, her face a picture of misery. “We had a row,” she said.
“What happened?”
“I wanted to book a holiday together and he wouldn’t let me.”
“Well, it was a bit soon.”
Ginny just sighed and looked at the floor.
I sat next to her on the stairs. “So, is it all over, then?” I asked carefully.
She shook her head. “I don’t know. He hasn’t been in touch. Do you think I should call him? Say sorry?”
Ginny never made the first move, never said sorry. Could it be that he’d been more than a fling to her? Slowly, the euphoria of the last few days started to slip away.
“Was it getting serious between you two, then?” I asked.
“I don’t know. He did say he didn’t want anything serious. But I think he could be, you know, the one. And people can change, can’t they?”
“I really don’t know,” I said. How could I get her to see he wasn’t for her? I caught hold of her hand. “You’re always saying how much you want a family. Do you seriously see Gabriel as the father of your children? He’s a lot older than you and he doesn’t come across as a family man to me.”
“But neither was Dad,” she said. “Not till I came along anyway.”
I swallowed hard and tried to ignore the stab of jealousy I always felt when she reminded me that Dad had loved her but not me. “Gabriel’s not Dad,” I said. “Apart from anything else, Dad had been married for years before you came along, so whatever his shortcomings, he obviously wasn’t afraid of commitment.”
Ginny curled her lip. “Don’t you ever wonder what Dad saw in her?” she said, forgetting about her own troubles for a moment.
“Apart from Grandad’s money?” I said. “Look, Ginny, it is her birthday and we’re supposed to be taking her out. Can you forget what she said and come back in?”
Ginny pouted prettily. “I suppose so. But she’d better not upset me about Gabriel again.”
We took my mother to a black and white pub restaurant at the edge of the sea wall where, from our table by the window, we could gaze out across the salt marshes to the Welsh hills.
After we’d placed our order, my mother went off to the ladies’ and Ginny turned to me and said, “Did you really mean what you said, that you can’t see Gabriel as a father?”
“Well, you said he wasn’t looking for anything serious. There’s a bit of a clue there.”
“I know, but can’t you just see him holding a beautiful little baby girl in his arms?” Ginny had a dreamy faraway expression in her eyes. “It would be so cute.”
“Yes, a lovely image,” I said. “You might have to try harder than that to convince Gabriel. I doubt the prospect of looking cute is going to be enough.”
Ginny turned away. “Maybe he doesn’t need to be convinced.”
“How do you mean?”
“Well”—she gave me a devious smile—“accidents have been known to happen.”
My heart slammed into my ribcage. “Ginny, no, don’t even joke about that.”
“Who said I was joking?”
“Promise me you are.”
“I don’t see what your problem is,” she complained. “You said it yourself. I do want kids and my clock has been ticking for a while now. Can you imagine what a beautiful baby me and Gabe would make?” She laughed. “Though we’d have to hope the kid got his brains and not mine.”
“So, does this mean you’ve decided to ring him and apologize, then?” I said.
Ginny turned and stared out of the window, and an invisible hand seemed to squeeze my heart as I waited for her to answer. Why was I so torn? Why couldn’t I put my feelings for Gabriel to one side and concentrate on what was best for my sister?
“I don’t know,” she said. “I think…”
She fell silent as my mother came back to her seat.
“Those toilets are lovely,” she said. “Absolutely spotless. Nothing lets a place down like grubby toilets. It always puts me off eating there. I mean, if they can’t be bothered to maintain basic standards of hygiene in the public areas, I shudder to think what the kitchens must be like.”
“Faye,” Paul called from downstairs. “Ginny’s here.”
I came down and we went into the kitchen, leaving Paul to watch his Liverpool End of Season DVD in peace. “Do you want a coffee?”
“No, I’m not stopping. I just called in on my way back from Fluff’s. She’s having a fancy dress party two weeks on Saturday and she’s asked me to invite you and Paul.”
“Any particular theme,” I asked, “or just general fancy dress?”
“Characters from history.”
“Okay,” I said. Maybe I could think of a twentieth-century character for Paul so he wouldn’t have to make too much of an effort.
“I don’t know what I’m going as yet,” she said, “but guess what? I phoned Gabriel and asked him if he fancied going. I didn’t make a big deal out of it like it was a date or anything, just said you and me and Paul were going and he said he’d come too.”
“So, is it back on, then?” I struggled to keep my voice steady.
Ginny shrugged. “We didn’t arrange to get together before the party. But he wouldn’t have agreed to come if he didn’t want us to get back together, would he?”
I didn’t know what to say to that. Who knew what was in Gabriel’s head?
“He’s going to go as someone from the eighteenth century so he can wear britches and boots,” said Ginny. “Can you imagine it?”
Oh, Lordy, I could indeed. Britches, boots, a ruffled shirt and, of course, a riding crop. Hmm. Gabriel as Mr. Darcy… I dragged my mind away from the image. I would not allow myself to think of him until I knew what he was playing at.
“Did you mean what you said the other day?” I said. “About wanting to get pregnant by accident as you put it?”
Ginny frowned. “Well, I don’t want to end up like Debbie, do I?”
Debbie was the manager of the dental practice where Ginny worked. She’d decided to hold out for Mr. Right before having children, but by the time she’d met him, she was fifty-two and well into the menopause. She’d told Ginny over and over that she regretted not having children when she’d had the chance, and Ginny had been deeply affected by this. Debbie was her own personal monster under the bed, a constant reminder of her ticking clock.
“You’re only twenty-six,” I reminded her. “There’s loads of time yet.”
“That’s wha
t Debbie thought when she was twenty-six.”
“But surely you don’t just want a baby for the sake of it. Don’t you want the whole package with a man who wants to have children with you?”
She shrugged. “I might have to take whatever I can get.”
“So you’d trick a man into getting you pregnant?”
Ginny sighed as if I was boring her. “It’s my life.”
“But it’s not just your life, is it? What about the poor guy who gets you pregnant? What about the child?”
“What about them?” She looked smug, the way she always did when she knew life would work out in her favor, and a hot rush of anger flashed through me. I’d seen that expression so many times over the years and it never failed to wind me up.
“For God’s sake! For once in your life can you think of someone else besides yourself! I know Dad brought you up to believe you were the center of the universe, but it’s time you grew up and realized you’re not!”
Ginny looked stunned for a moment, then her pretty doll face twisted in rage. “You bitch! There’s no need to bring Dad into it. I can’t believe you just said that!” She got up to go and she jabbed a finger in my direction. “Do you know what? If I did decide I wanted Gabriel’s baby, or anyone else’s for that matter, I wouldn’t ask for your approval!” She slammed the door behind her so hard she made the windows rattle and brought Paul out into the hall.
“What’s up with her?” he asked, following me as I got a bottle of pinot grigio from the fridge and poured myself a very large glass.
“Oh, I just told her she wasn’t the most important person in the world just because Dad thought she was, and she went berserk. You know how protective she is of Dad’s memory.”