Chapter Eight
Jackson
Somehow, I knew that I wouldn’t be left alone. I had fucked up, and I knew someone, at some point, would call me out on it. I didn’t have to wait long before Chase came storming in, face red, hands clenched into fists at his side. I didn’t want to fight with him, I didn’t have it in me, but I wasn’t going to let him talk to me the way I imagined he was about to.
“What in the absolute fuck, Jax? Seriously? What the fuck?” he yelled, hands making wild motions around his head. If I hadn’t been slightly drunk and more than a little mad at myself, I might have laughed at how ridiculous he looked, how ridiculous I probably looked.
I opened my mouth several times to respond, but nothing came out. I didn’t know what to say. He was right. What in the actual fuck was wrong with me? I had broken my own rules and played with an inexperienced woman, and then failed to do my duties to her as her Dom. Even the most experienced of subs needed some form of aftercare once play finished, and I hadn’t said a word, hadn’t held her, hadn’t praised her. I just stormed out, like a scared child, but that’s what I had been. Scared.
I couldn’t explain to Chase what had happened. No one knew this part of my life. Not one person knew that things like guns, or giant spiders, or gang fights didn’t scare me, didn’t intimidate me. But put me in the bathroom with a tub half full of water, and you’d find me in the fetal position on the floor; and don’t get me started on pools, or God forbid, the ocean.
No one knew I grew up with a stepfather who enjoyed holding my head under the water in a kiddie pool with the heel of his boot digging into my skull. No one knew I had drowned twice during these episodes, and was barely brought back to life. No one knew that the only water I could tolerate was in small plastic bottles or in a stand up shower where it couldn’t collect. The doctors told me a long time ago that I had severe aquaphobia.
After Maggie had reached her peak, multiple times this evening, I had gazed up at her beauty, and emotions, I rarely fell victim to, engulfed me. The feeling paralysed me in the same way my fear of drowning did. I had panicked, and the only thing that made sense was to run. Something I had done the moment I was old enough to get a job and get out of my parents’ house.
“Earth to fucking Jackson?” I heard, coming from a still very angry Chase in front of me. I had been staring past him while I thought about my childhood and the events that had transpired this evening. I hadn’t actually meant to leave her there with no aftercare, but I couldn’t stop the helplessness that had reached up and grabbed hold of me, choking me from within.
“I know, Chase. I know. I fucked up,” I said, shaking my head and taking another swallow from my almost empty container of alcohol. “I can’t explain what happened, just tell me if she’s ok?”
“What the fuck do you care?” he spit back at me, the venom in his words, hostile.
I was taken aback. Chase had never spoken to me like that. In fact most people didn’t dare to speak to me in that manner. He was clearly angry, and I couldn’t say that I blamed him, I was mad at me too, but this was still my club, and I still deserved the respect he wasn’t presently showing me.
“Enough with the ‘fucks’, Chase. Just tell me how Maggie is doing?” I yelled. I was starting to get angry and I knew, part of it was the booze, and part of it was the lingering hatred I held for my stepfather.
“Polly is sitting with her now. I suggest, if you want to make things right, you need to do it now, before she gets up a walks out of here.” Running his fingers through his hair and looking back at me, he continued. “Jesus, man, what’s wrong with you?” He said, his voice softening a fraction.
“It’s a long damn story, Chase, and one I don’t have the energy to talk about right now. Thank you for being there for Maggie when I couldn’t, and I am going to make this right. I’m just not sure where to start.”
When I didn’t receive a response, I looked up to see a weird look on Chase’s face. It wasn’t a look I could decipher. It almost looked like a mixture of amusement and intrigue.
“What, Chase?”
“You like her, don’t you? You fucking like her. Holy shit, man. I’ve never seen you like this. One night and you’re smitten,” he laughed out, his attitude shifting so fast it made my alcohol infused brain spin on it’s axis.
“Shut up, Chase. You don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said, my voice not even believable to my own ears.
He was right. For whatever strange reason, I had connected with her. I wasn’t sure if it was the innocence, or the natural submission, but she piqued my curiosity, and she was the first one to make me want to go back for seconds. Even though we hadn’t had actual sex, and the contact we did have was minimal, I was inexplicably drawn to her.
Everything about her was the complete opposite of my norm, physically and emotionally. She wasn’t what society believed was beautiful, but I thought she was stunning. She wasn’t what the scene would call a true submissive, but she was an eager student, and suddenly, I wanted to be her teacher. Chase was right, I was smitten. Fuck, how had that happened after a few short hours?
Suddenly, almost as if I had been struck by lightning, I pounced out of my seat and headed for the door. I had to find her. I had to apologize. I had to make her mine, and I had to make it up to her.
“Where are you going?” Chase screamed over my shoulder.
“I’ve gotta find my sub,” I called back, knowing without a doubt my words would have Chase in a fit of giggles, but I didn’t care. She was my sub, and I was going to do whatever I needed to do to make it work, and apologize for being such an ass.
Slamming my office door behind me, I looked around my great room. It was almost one in the morning, and most people had cleared out for the night, or were using one of the private rooms I offered, but I didn’t care. I needed to get to Maggie, and the stares and whispers from my members could wait until morning to be addressed.
Almost running to the door I had left her behind, a weird feeling creeped up in my chest. A feeling I didn’t understand. I didn’t know what it was, but when I opened the door to the empty room and saw it abandoned, I placed the feeling. Dread. Something was wrong. Where had she gone?
Turning around to march towards the camera room, I saw Chase coming towards me, a grim look replacing his joviality from a moment before.
“What?” I asked.
“She’s gone. Polly took her home,” he responded, waiving his phone up for me to see, clearly upset his own sub had left.
“Fuck!” I screamed out, tugging on my hair. “I’ve got to get her number from her file.”
“Jax, you know we don’t keep potential members numbers on file. We’ll only have her number if she filled out an application before she took off. Which I’m guessing is quite unlikely.”
He was right. We didn’t ask for the phone numbers of people coming to check out the club. We wanted our prospects to feel like they could come and enjoy without being pestered afterwards if it didn’t work out. I was deeply regretting setting that rule in motion.
“Fine, tell Polly I need it?” I told Chase, even though I knew the answer that was about to come.
“I don’t fucking think so, Jackson. You’re not asking me to go to my sub, and get the phone number to her best friend, the one who YOU fucked over tonight. You fix this yourself, man,” he said, turning on his heel and marching away from me, anger clearly evident in his stature and gait.
Heading back to my private play room to clean up, I thought about how amazing the night had been until my freakout. Maggie had been wonderful, doing everything exactly as I had asked without qualms or questions. She was perfect. And when she came? Her beauty magnified ten fold. She smelled like honey and almonds, and when she had climaxed all over my face, she had tasted sweet, the sweetest I had ever come in contact with.
Looking at the bed, I remembered the way she pulled on her restraints while I finger fucked her into oblivion. She had squirmed, but it was obv
ious she was trying not to. All of it to please me. This entire night that’s all she had done; attempt to please me, and I had blown it.
Dipping my head, I stuck my hands in my pocket and came in contact with something soft and lacy. Maggie’s panties. Pulling them free from their confines, I brought them up to my nose and inhaled deeply. They smelled like her, and my eager cock gyrated against my zipper. It looked like I would be taking care of myself tonight, but, smiling internally, a plan began forming in my head. My little sub was going to need her panties back, and I knew just how I was going to get them back to her.
Chapter Nine
Maggie
“I’m so sorry, Sir, your warranty expired six months ago. If you’d like someone to come out and take a look at your television, the cost is $60.”
It had been five hellish days of work since I left “The Hunt”, and every day got a little bit worse. I hated working in a call center. Most people I spoke with were either idiots, or just downright mean. I didn’t think I would ever be able to wrap my head around how people thought it was ok to curse out and belittle someone they didn’t know over the phone. But, on days like today, I just didn’t give a shit.
“Sir? Hello?” I said into my headset. Of course, he hung up. Douche.
Logging out of the system was the highlight of my week, and grabbing my purse and my coat, I hightailed it out of the office without so much as a goodbye. I needed my days off. I needed a mental health day. I had considered calling in sick on Monday, but like the good little employee that I was, I refrained from doing it. In fact, I had only taken one sick day in the four years I had worked there, and that was because I had slipped on ice walking into work, and had broken my arm.
Walking up to my running car, I thanked the Gods above, not for the first time, for remote start. It had been the best $200 I had ever spent.
Driving home, I did what I had done the past five days, like clockwork. I went through every single second of the time I had entered “The Hunt”. All the way to the time I walked out. I thought about every encounter, every touch, and every word said. I wanted to find out what I had done wrong to piss off Master Jackson so badly, and never do that again. I’d blown my shot with one Dom, I didn’t need, nor want a repeat with someone new.
The experience had been draining. I was sure that any sane girl would have run the other way and never looked back, but I wasn’t just any girl, and some would probably say I wasn’t sane. The small taste I had gotten on Saturday night was not enough. I wanted more. I just didn’t want it from him. Who the hell was I kidding? Of course I wanted it from him, but he didn’t want it from me. So, it was time to move on, and keep looking.
Sunday, I had filled out the application form online, and hovered over the send button for over fifteen minutes before I just said ‘screw it’ and hit the damn thing. I knew Jackson owned the club, and I knew I would have no choice but to see him at some point, but I prayed to God it was after I found a new Dom to claim. The rules had been pretty clear; unless agreed on by all parties participating, once a submissive was claimed by a Dom, she was off limits to advances.
That night taught me a lot about myself. I really was submissive. It was a strange concept to come to terms with, and like most people, I assumed it would be a battle to overcome the natural urge to fight when someone was mentally overpowering you. After I let everything go, and just felt what was happening, my insecurities fell away. My hesitation melted, and my mind went blank, except for the need to please.
I felt a type of cloudy, but crystal clear fuzz settle around my brain, engulfing me, and removing all of my self doubt about myself or my abilities. The only thing I could hear was his voice, telling me what to do, and my own inner voice chanting, “Please him, Please him”
His voice, God, I could have listened to his voice for hours. It could have been saying the most mundane things, and it wouldn’t have mattered. I had been putty in his hands the moment he had rasped in that deep baritone delivery. His commands still echoed around my head, bouncing off the padded walls of my brain.
HOONNKK, the blare of the horn sounded behind me, alerting me to the fact that my light was currently green. “Green,” a word I was going to have a hard time associating with anything else outside of my playing last week. Taking a shuddering breath, I released the brake and stepped on the gas, trying to get home as fast as possible. My thoughts about Master Jackson had overridden everything as of late, and I had had a hard time concentrating on anything. I was going to need to focus, because driving in the snow with a cloudy mind was a recipe for disaster.
When I finally pulled into my parking spot and shut off the car, my hands were shaking. I hated driving in snow, and I hated other people who drove in the same conditions. I may be able to control what my car was doing, but I had no control over the big trucks and SUV’s that thought it was ok to go 60mph on the freeway when you couldn’t even see the lines through the falling white stuff.
“I want you to let go, and come as many times as you can.”
Now that I was home, my treacherous mind picked up where it had left off, torturing me with his husky tone, reminding me of the promises he would eventually deliver. Grabbing for the front door, my hands shook for different reasons. I needed him out of my head if I was ever going to go back to the club. I needed to be able to concentrate solely on the Dom at hand, and not the one invading my skull.
Faith’s bark shook me back to the present as I pushed opened the door and shut it, before any of the snow could sneak through, and melt in my entryway.
“Hi, baby girl,” I said to her when she bounded up to me and jumped up just past my knee. Bending down, I picked her up and walked towards the couch to sit and snuggle. This had been my tradition with her every work day since I rescued her three years prior. She had only been a few weeks old at the time, barely weaned, when I found her back behind the dumpster of my complex. The mother had been nowhere in sight, and the other two puppies hadn’t lasted in the cold. It was still a memory that brought tears to my eyes.
After our ‘Mommy-Faith’ time, as I dubbed it, I took her out to do her business and then, changed into my pajamas and slipped under the blanket on my couch with my kindle and a soda. I needed to call Polly before my nerves gave out, and then I was going to immerse myself in a new romance novel and let my imagination drown out a certain man’s voice.
“Hey, Mags. What’s up?” she asked, cheerful as ever, when she picked up.
“Hey, Polly. So, umm, I’ve got something to ask you, and you’re going to think I’m crazy, but just hear me out ok?”
“OO-kay,” she responded, drawing out each syllable.
“I want to go back. To “The Hunt”, I mean. But I don’t want to see him. I know he owns the joint and all, but right now I can’t see him. I mean, I’d love to see him, but I can’t see him because of what happened,” I rambled.
“Hold on,” Polly said, leaving my mouth agape. I had figured a spanish inquisition from Polly at my statement, not a blow off. I could hear whispers in the background, but she had obviously covered the mouth part of the receiver. Flipping through my kindle for the book I wanted to start, I waited for her to come back.
“Mags? You there?” she asked, a tone I took for excitement lacing every word.
“Umm, yes?”
“Great. I just spoke with Chase. He said tomorrow is the Leather and Lace event, and Master Jackson has never attended one. Want to go with us?” I could almost hear her jumping around with glee at the prospect.
“You’re sure he won’t be there?” I asked tentatively.
“Positive,” she squealed into the phone.
“Then yes, I’m game. What time?”
“We’ll pick you up at 8! Remember, leather and lace Mags!”
Before I had the chance to confirm, she hung up, still screeching out her elation.
A smile I hadn’t had in the last five days creeped over me. I was going to try again. The thought both excited and unnerved me. A L
eather and Lace event. I wasn’t sure what the decor would be but I had a pretty good guess about the attire needed. Scanning through my head, I mentally sifted through my closet. I had nothing to speak of that would work for this type of party. I needed to go shopping.
Glancing at my watch, I saw it was only 5:45pm. Enough time on a Friday night to hit the mall and find something decent and hot for my evening tomorrow. Shooting off a text to Polly to see if she wanted to join me (more like telling her she didn’t have a choice), I made my way back to my bedroom to put on some jeans and a sweater.
An hour later, I pulled up to Polly’s place as she walked out of her apartment, kissing Chase goodbye as she shut the front door. I envied her in so many ways. Her stylish coat matched her gloves and her ear warmers, and her hair bounced along as she made her way to the passenger side of the car. Polly’s career as a hair stylist had taken off in the last few years. To the outside world, cosmetology was not a career you could get rich off of, but she was the most sought after stylist in most of New Jersey and New York, even doing the color and cuts for some A-List celebrities.
“Hey, Mags!” she bubbled, plopping into the passenger seat and removing her gloves. “It’s fucking cold out there. So, where to?”
“Chase is living with you now?” I stared her down.
“No, silly,” she laughed, “He was helping me setup my new kitchen table and chairs when you called. He’s got a key, so he’ll lock up when he leaves.”
“I’m happy for you,” I whispered out, the words getting caught behind a sob in my throat.
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