“Now that's out of the way, why don't we enjoy breakfast and speak of something a little more pleasant?”
I gave him a smile and nodded, my head turning over all of the information against my will. This was just what I didn't need when I had a full day with nothing to fill it but my thoughts.
Much to my surprise, the rest of breakfast actually
was
pleasant. Charles fell back into his naturally charming ways and told me stories of his travels across the world. He'd been to some places I'd only ever dreamed about going to. No matter how interesting and engaging his stories were, however, our prior conversation still plagued me. It sat like a shadow in the back of my mind, chasing my every thought.
Eventually, when the plates were cleared from the table and we'd drained the last of the coffee, Charles gave me free rein of the property to entertain myself while he worked from his home office.
It didn't take me long to figure out where I wanted to go. With as many thoughts as I had running around in my head, my feet led me easily to the gazebo by the bayou. I sat in the swing, rocking gently without much enthusiasm and leaning against the chain. Being alone, I let my mind wander.
I was trying to piece together the puzzle that Charles had given me. He was warning me, but I couldn't for the life of me figure out what about. He'd spoken about Mistress Kayla and her past with him, but what did that have to do with Jared? There were only so many times I could think about the twisting connotations of his words before my mind drifted even further into the past, looking for something that wasn’t there.
My mind took me back to what Charles had referred to as the last incident – her last visit to him. It hadn't been that long ago, and the evenings leading up to it had been spent at the club. That Friday night, she'd been training a new male sub. Luke had been a sweet guy and he'd wanted to experiment with masochism. He'd trusted Mistress Kayla, so it was only natural that he'd gone to her with his request. She'd pushed him hard that night. A cock cage had been used to suppress his erection, and I remembered kneeling in the corner listening to his shouts of pain and constant pleading for more and mercy as the contradicting emotions had taken over. He'd never once used his safe word, no matter how many times he'd begged her to stop.
As a reward, she'd fucked him. My eyes had followed her every move, the curve of her spine as she took what she wanted, climaxing before ordering him to follow. She'd looked lost in the moment, her eyes hungry as he'd shouted out before coming hard. She'd taken him home with us that night, her aftercare seeping into the night as we both snuggled around him and kept his shivering body warm.
That Saturday night, she'd been giving a whipping demonstration on one of her friend's subs. I loved being on the receiving end of the whip’s brutality, but watching her wield the long, leather bullwhip was even more magnificent. She had an elegance about her as she flicked her wrist. The tail danced over the sub's flesh with such precision, she was begging to climax halfway through the set. Her Master had been standing close, denying her release as Mistress Kayla continued. It wasn't hard to see when my Mistress had reached top space. Her eyes had glazed over, the look of euphoria worn as a flush that shimmered over her skin.
She'd taken me home that night and demanded four orgasms from me, her change from giver to recipient easy. My lips worked over her body, biting and sucking in all the right places until she came harder than she had in a while.
She was gone by the time I woke up the next morning. A note sat on her pillow, explaining that she had some errands to run before she left for travel the next day. I hadn't thought anything of it at the time. Sure, she generally spent time with me before going out of town, but it wasn't completely out of the blue for her to run errands and square things away before she left. Why had she felt the need to go to Charles? What had driven her to seek out submission?
Breaking it down, I knew what pushed my neediness. First, when I felt out of control and confused, I either craved someone to take control of me, or physicl pain – something that would empty my mind of the relentless thoughts that built up in my head.
The second reason for my neediness was emotional pain – things that hurt my feelings – the kinds of emotions I had no way to work out. One of my hard limits was humiliation. I had enough issues without being made to feel cheap and self-conscious for fun. These issues generally came up after work. My boss was a bitch, plain and simple. She'd ride my ass because my natural need to avoid confrontation meant she could get away with it.
The last reason for my neediness was guilt. Guilt was an emotion I couldn't seem to process. It stayed with me, clouding my judgment and sucking the life from me slowly. My mood would decline steadily until I became irritable and short-tempered. It was probably the biggest of my problems. If I wasn't given a release to free myself from my guilt, I started to withdraw, the urge to run away from the problem too overwhelming. If it hadn't been for Mistress Kayla, it was likely I would have been around the world several times, and not in a good way – no one gets good sightseeing in when they’re running from themselves.
Was it one of these reasons? Is that what got under her skin enough for her to go against her nature? Or was it simply that she loved him back?
Was that it? Was Charles warning me that Jared was in love with someone or had a fiancée or something? If that was the case, he was barking up the wrong tree. I liked Jared, but someone else owned me. Someone I loved and had for two years. I understood what this arrangement was, and what they had asked of me. I had no misconceptions.
Over and over again the thoughts tumbled through my confused brain until the pain of a headache started as a dull thud behind my eyes. This wasn't the kind of pain that I craved. It wasn't coupled with the rush of adrenaline or the release of endorphins that eased it into pleasure. There was no one to credit with the pain that lit my flesh on fire and dragged me under.
The sun was high in the sky when I finally withdrew from the swing and sought solace in the shade of the huge live oaks that lined the drive. Leaning against a sturdy trunk, hidden by the gnarled and twisted branches, I finally relented to the pain and closed my eyes, only to fall asleep.
It must have been hours later when I finally woke up to the purr of an engine creeping down the drive, the pebbles popping under the tires giving away its progress. Whoever it was would have been oblivious to my presence as the thick base of the tree and the cradle of the limbs shaded me from view. The headache was blissfully gone, but the pain in my back from the awkward angle I'd been sleeping in made a quiet groan fall from my lips.
The door of the car slammed shut as the engine died, and even above the almost deafening chirp of the crickets, I heard the heavy footsteps up the porch and the hammering on the door. My curiosity getting the better of me, I leaned to the side and peeked around the tree. My eyes soon found a truck parked outside of the house and a man dressed in jeans and a light plaid shirt standing at the door with his hands on his hips.
Charles answered, and I couldn't hear what was being said, but the hand gestures of the stranger showed he was clearly upset. I stayed where I was, mainly because, against all odds, Charles had seen me and made a small hand gesture of his own at his side – one that told me not to move.
I did as I was told for as long as I could, but the guy grew more agitated the longer they spoke. The first shove against Charles had me holding my breath, but the second had me on my feet, sprinting toward the two of them.
“–You and that pansy assed accent of yours. You think I wouldn't know, old man?” The guy pushed Charles again and that's when my fiery anger reared its ugly head.
“Get your hands off of him, asshole. Who the hell do you think you are?”
The man turned, his weathered skin – tanned from the sun – highlighting the lines at the sides of his eyes. He was pissed, and it didn't take a genius to see what had caused the disruption. There wasn't a huge pool of women out here, so I could only imagine Charles had been very naughty and played with this man’s wife.
“Who the hell are you?”
“None of your damn business, but you'd be wise to get back in your truck and fuck off.”
I saw the flicker of humor on Charles' face as my hands balled at my sides. I was a pacifist by choice, my anger pushed down into the shadowy recesses of my soul, but Charles was almost twice the age of this guy. If I hadn't known he was a Dom, I'd have worried he was too fragile to be pushed around like that. That was exactly where my problem lay, however. He did look fragile, and the thought of him being pushed too hard and looking vulnerable ate away at my patience.
“Listen, darlin', this is between me and your grandpaw. Best you go off and pretend you didn't see nothing.”
“Why? So you can hit a refined gentleman without witnesses, you redneck piece of shit?”
Now I'd gone and done it. The guy jumped down from the porch steps, his boots crunching the gravel under his feet. I saw Charles step forward but put up one hand to stop him. If I knew how to do something, it was take a hit, and this asshole was ready to go for gold just to make a point.
“Say that again, sweetheart.”
“Red. Neck. Piece. Of. Shit.” I enunciated every word as my body leaned into his.
“One more time. ‘Cuz I knows you ain't that dumb.”
“Red. Neck—” I never got the rest of it out. His fist landed neatly on my jaw, and my head snapped back on my neck as the adrenaline released into my bloodstream. I left my head where it landed for a moment, hiding my smile. It had been a reckless thing to do, stupid really, considering I had no idea who this guy was or what he was capable of, but it was still worth every painful second.
Turning back to face him, I smiled and felt my eyes flash as my anger surged. The man stepped back, looking appalled and confused that I hadn’t cradled my face and run for cover. Charles’ laughter was the only sign that I hadn’t lost my mind as the metallic ringing filled my head.
“You hit like a girl,” I declared, leaning forward again. “Redneck.”
The second hit surprised me, his accuracy making little white dots permeate my vision. The pain was immediate and was spurred by the release of endorphins as the rusty taste of blood filled my mouth. Turning back to him, the smile I was wearing dropped. One punch, easy, two, hurt like hell, but if he decided to unleash on me, I was screwed.
It was then, without warning, the Jaguar was sliding to a stop in the driveway next to us, the gravel skittering away in every direction and the rain of it sending them washing over my bare feet.
Shit! There went my plan. Jared’s face was murderous as he climbed from the car. He didn’t even stop to shut the door behind him; he just took off like a bull seeing red. The man stood bewildered in front of me, his target.
I had to stop Jared. I’d come up with a plan going into this, but that wasn’t going to work if he took the guy out. So I took off running toward Jared, my hands coming up against his chest, my feet planted in the gravel, sliding over them against his resistance.
“Jared. Jared. Look at me.” My hands moved up to cradle his face, my body still being moved by his impetus. “Jared, please!”
I don’t know what it was that got his attention, but his eyes flickered down to meet mine. For a moment I thought I had his full attention, but there must have been blood showing because I felt his jaw stiffen under my fingers.
“I’ll kill him.”
“No you won’t, because then
you
will get arrested, too. He just hit a woman.” And from the throbbing in my jaw there was going to be some swelling and a pretty bruise to match it. “Charles?”
“Yes, dearest?”
“Call the police. Jared…” I looked over my shoulder and saw the man heading for his truck as fast as he could. He obviously didn’t like the odds of going up against the police or Jared. He was hotfooting it as fast as he could to get the hell out of there. “Keep him here, but don’t give him the satisfaction of hurting him.”
I had no qualms about what we were about to do. Guilt was not a factor in this because I had no tolerance for abusive men. Anyone with knowledge of the lifestyle that I chose to lead, while calling assholes like this abusive, would think I was a hypocrite, but there was a fine line between abuse and submission. The fact was what I did was one hundred percent consensual. The pain was given to me because I asked for it and terms were agreed upon beforehand. What this guy was doing was abuse or assault. He didn’t know who I was. He just took his anger out on me, someone half his size, over something as ridiculous as name-calling. I’d set him up for failure. I provoked him, which was a shitty thing to do, but he couldn’t control himself, something that most other humans were capable of over something as small as a derogatory comment. He was a big guy and he knew he could win. It was an abuse of power.
The police came quickly. I think it was probably the address that helped. One look at my face and they slapped handcuffs on the guy before pushing him in the back of the car with the gentleness of a bulldozer. I gave my statement – the whole truth as it played out. The only fib I told was that I was Jared’s girlfriend and we were visiting his grandfather, which was close enough to the truth, as I was, in all actuality, there to be with Jared. They took pictures of my face, and Charles insisted on pressing charges. He already had his lawyers on the phone. Of course, the whole time this was going on, I was anchored by one thing alone... Jared’s hand. It was wrapped around mine, the fingers of his other hand trailing over the bruise on my jaw as the police questioned me.
By the time they left, the asshole’s truck had already been towed and the sun was sneaking behind the horizon, leaving a warm glow over the house, the shadows of the trees stretching out over the driveway. Jared had disappeared inside to get some ice, leaving me alone with Charles and that smile of his.