How the hell did I get myself into this situation? More to the point, how the hell did I get myself out?
Something that had been so uncontaminated in my life, so simple and easy to understand, was now one of the most complicated situations I'd ever found myself in. I'd always said that it was possible to be in love with two people, but I never once expected to find myself in that situation, and I sure as hell didn't expect it to hurt so much.
The first question I had for myself was how the hell did I fall in love with Jared so quickly? We'd been pushed together in this situation and spent endless hours with one another, but people did that every day. Granted, not with the intimacy we'd shared, but even so...
I'd kept up the pretense of excitement the rest of that afternoon and evening. In Mistress' dungeon, I was well used by her crop, both her and Jared taking turns. It was amazing considering my moment of self-discovery, but afterwards the confusion only deepened. Both of them gave me aftercare, and rather than sinking into oblivion, I was too scared to hurt someone's feelings and excused myself, only to confuse both of them.
The rest of the week fell into a pattern. The club opened again on Mondays, even though it was at less than half capacity than on a Friday or Saturday. The couples who only came into
Stigmata
on the weekends were the members we called weekenders. There was nothing wrong with entertaining your sexual proclivities on just the weekend, and most of the time Mistress and I would spend week nights at home, using her dungeon if the inclination hit, which it did more often than not.
It was, however, easier to do a scene when there was another sub involved, which had us changing our own pattern and visiting the club every night. Mistress would use them as an example, while Jared would practice the same to me, always with his own twist that only seemed to make my affections and confusion grow.
Tomorrow, we were due to head back to Jared’s home, and tonight, Mistress had arranged a treat for him at the club. My mind went through so many scenarios of what was in store. Was she going to teach him to use the whip? Would she give him some clamps to experiment with? My imagination turned over everything I enjoyed, but it wasn't until we were there and I was kneeling at her feet that I realized just how wrong I'd been.
I didn't think much of the looks we got as we entered the club, nor did I pay attention to the nervous buzz that seemed to go through the subs as we headed to our table. Removing my dress and kneeling at the end of Mistress’ booth, I’d cleared my mind and relaxed my body, waiting for her to announce what she had planned. I saw Sophie, one of the unattached subs, head in our direction, and I smiled at her as she knelt next to me, her own grin broad.
“Good evening, Mistress, and Sir,” she said in a sultry voice, her back straightening and forcing her breasts forward.
“Good evening, Sophie,” Mistress replied merrily, reaching past me to run a finger down her cheek. It was only when Sophie's discomfort showed in the twist of her hands that I realized one of her hard limits. She didn't sub for women. Ever.
Mistress had chosen Sophie for Jared, not herself. It was at that point I found myself doing something I hadn't done in years; I was fidgeting. It didn't go unnoticed either, Mistress watching me out of the corner of her eyes, her hands dropping to my hair to ease me.
I tried to convince myself that I was fine with it. That I could get through it easily. It was no different from Mistress using another sub, something she did quite frequently. Unfortunately, this situation wasn't the same, and with every second that passed, my discomfort grew until all of my emotions were so twisted that I felt as though I was balanced on the edge of a blade. I kept my head down as we headed to the private rooms, ignoring the way Sophie practically skipped down the hall in her excitement. It was my insides that seemed to twist awkwardly when we eventually stepped into the room.
No pep talk in the world could have prepared me for that scenario.
I stood to the side feeling lost, missing my Mistress' command for me to kneel because my eyes were locked with Jared's, as the void in my chest grew wider and sharper. I couldn't decipher the look in his eyes as he stared at me. He was expressionless.
“Kit.”
“Yes, Mistress?” I answered automatically, my heart pounding painfully in my chest as I dragged my eyes away from Jared and back down to the floor. I didn't do it to be submissive. I did it to hide my pain and confusion from the two people in the world that could read me like a book.
“The cross, Pet. I need you to go to the cross.”
My feet moved without conscious command, and my body was cold and indifferent to everything in the room, other than the overwhelming emotions that ran through me. I stepped up to the cross, idly facing it, and heard a small tut contradicting me and causing me to turn around, my chin hitting my chest and my eyes on my feet, refusing to look at anything else.
As Mistress attached my wrists and ankles, she talked about what she was planning on doing, and from the sounds of it, I would be used to teach Jared to master the whip on Sophie. I was the only person she would attempt this with facing her. Her aim was accurate and I trusted her implicitly, but there wasn't so much as a stirring of pleasure or excitement inside of me.
I'd already let it get too far. I should have bowed out and excused myself, but my head was still attempting to convince my heart that I could do this. The pegs were placed perfectly on my nipples, my body responding to touch, even as the tears ran freely down my cheeks. Mistress hadn't noticed the difference in my behavior because she was teaching and I was someone she should have been able to count on the most. She knew me as well as I knew her and there was no way she could have anticipated my reaction to this.
I loved her. I convinced myself I could do this for her, and I took the first few lashings on my thighs with silence. The pain helped my internal struggle, briefly, taking away the emotional deluge that was growing like an avalanche, but Mistress Kayla knew something was wrong the moment she approached me. Her fingers slid between my thighs and I knew what she would find when she got there. I was desperate not to hurt her feelings and lifted my head to say or do something, but it was pointless. Jared's lean body was pressed against Sophie's as he attached her to the secondary cross that was parallel to the one I was attached to, the familiar gentle strokes of his hands running over her skin setting off my memory of the week we'd all spent together in this room.
“Nirvana,” I whispered.
Mistress Kayla's body froze, her hand retreating to her chest before she discovered my secret. I could feel how tense she was as she stood there looking at me, but my chin was pressed against my chest with such force, wild horses couldn't have moved me.
“Katherine?”
“Nirvana. Nirvana.
Nirvana
.” I sobbed, my body falling forward, leaving me hanging from my wrists. I could hear Jared's footsteps heading toward us, but there was no escaping. I was stuck on the cross.
“What was that?” he asked quietly, his deep tone washing over me but bringing no comfort.
“Her safe word.”
It was Jared's firm hands that liberated me from the cross, his strong arm folding around my waist as I collapsed against him, my wrists stinging from holding my weight. I willed power to return to my legs as the room spun. I knew everything I'd worked for was slipping through my fingers. I’d just done the most selfish thing a sub could ever do, and the thought of explaining myself made my blood run cold. I was a coward.
For the first time since I'd met Mistress Kayla, I didn’t ask for permission to leave the room. I simply pushed Jared away and walked toward the door as confidently as I could, before slipping through it and pulling it closed behind me. With no one in the hall, I took off running, my bare feet slapping against the concrete as the tears fell in a constant stream. I stumbled up the small flight of stairs to the bar area, startling the subs standing around as I barged through and headed to our booth to grab my dress. I had no idea where I was going or why. I just needed out.
I was halfway to the bathroom when a strong arm circled my waist and pulled me against a familiar chest. It wasn't the chest I wanted because it belonged to Luke. But I was grateful when he held me against him and steered me toward the unisex bathrooms on the club level, probably to give me some time before I was found.
The writhing bodies on the dance floor pushed and jerked us as we made our way across it, but Luke didn't let go of me once. The moment we were inside the bathroom he took me to what we called a safe room, somewhere with comfy couches and beautiful pictures to help calm someone down if needed. Pulling me onto his lap on the plush red velvet couch, he just held me and let me cry. There were no questions, no probing to find out what was wrong. He just was, and it was exactly what I needed in that moment.
It took a while for me to calm down, even with the gentle stroke of his hand through my hair. My tears made his chest glisten in the diluted light when I finally lifted my head, and guilt surged through me again.
“You love him,” he whispered into my hair, his hand rubbing my arm to keep me calm.
I couldn't bring myself to say the words, so I just nodded, burying my forehead in his neck as my fingers drew idle pictures on his chest.
“Silly Kitty! That's a rookie mistake.”
“Shut up.” I sniffled, wiping under my eyes, glad for the lack of mascara. Not that it mattered. I'd cried so hard I could feel my eyelids beginning to swell.
“What are you going to do?”
“What can I do, Luke? I belong to Mistress Kayla.”
“And you love her, too.”
I nodded again, sitting up and pushing my fists into my eyes. I'd fucked everything up. There was no coming back from this. I'd broken Mistress’ trust, and Jared... I didn't know what he wanted. Why would he want anything to do with me?
“I don't understand, Luke. How could I have let this happen?”
“To sound like an absolute pussy, the heart wants what the heart wants. I don't know what happened, but I'm guessing that with Sophie as the sub of choice, Mr. tall, hot and British was expanding his horizons.”
“I've never been jealous with Mistress using other subs. So why did I feel that way with him?”
Luke sighed, his hands cupping my cheeks as he looked me in the eyes. “I can't answer that, sweetheart. You have to look for those answers yourself, but they are there, Kit.”
We fell into silence, our breaths and the faded sound of the bass the only noises penetrating the small room. He was right that there were answers there. I just had to dig deep enough and find them. But the truth was, I wasn't sure I had the strength to do it anymore. As a submissive, I very rarely made my own decisions. I relinquished control to the dominant of choice. It was something I'd embraced about this lifestyle because, whether I liked it or not, holding into that control had always been a source of anxiety for me. Now, I had to search my soul for answers and I just couldn't imagine making any kind of decision, not alone, and certainly not one of this magnitude.
The music grew louder as the door to the bathroom opened. It was still faint as there was a barrier between us, including the small lobby beyond the innocuous space we were secluded in. We listened to the movement and clip of heels across the tile outside the safe room, which pulled me from my thoughts, ensuring my eyes met Luke's in panic. There was no doubt who was standing outside and that was confirmed with the sharp bark of her voice as she addressed the room.
“Everyone, clear out. Now!”
I listened as the bare feet and snap of shoes slapped across the tiled floor beyond the room. The sound of the door opening and closing told me her command had been heard loud and clear. I knew I would have to let go of Luke the moment the sanctity of the safe space was breached, so I took my time finding my breath, my hands squeezing his as the doors to surrounding safe rooms opened.
When the door to the room we were in finally opened, I saw Mistress standing there, her expression unreadable as she stared at me. Jared was sitting on the giant plush ottoman in the middle of the foyer, elbows on knees and his head in his hands.
“Luke.”
“Mistress Kayla.”
“Thank you for taking such good care of Katherine, but if you don't mind, I…” She stopped and glanced over her shoulder before amending the word she’d used. “
We
need to speak with her.”
“Of course, Mistress,” he said quietly, slipping out from under me and dropping a kiss on the top of my head. He lowered his voice as he kissed my cheek, telling me to be brave before he left the safe room and then the bathroom altogether, finally leaving me alone with Mistress Kayla and Jared and the most conflicted feelings I'd ever felt in my life.
I felt like a deer in headlights even before either of them had said a word to me. I felt cornered by them both, even if it wasn't intentional. The panic started rising slowly. The air thinned gradually, the hammering of my heart getting louder and the sweat beading all over my body as I started to hyperventilate. No matter how much I tried to convince myself to calm the fuck down, it didn't work. I just became more erratic and dizzy.
“Head between your legs, Kitten.”
It was enough of an order that my body complied, but it solved nothing. The deep-seated panic had planted roots in my veins and was spreading like wild fire.
“Kayla, let me in there.”
“Jared.”
“Not to be disrespectful, but move! She's having a panic attack.”
He strolled across the room, his boots coming into view as I tried to drag in air and shake my head at the same time. I could get past this... even if I had to pass out first.
“Sit up, Kit. Arms above your head and open your lungs.”
My aching body moved quickly, my arms rising above my head as I wheezed in panicked breaths. I knew he was trying to capture my eyes, but I denied him, closing mine so I wouldn't drown in the pools of blue that always held me so captivated and made me feel safe. I needed to get my shit together and get the hell away from there. I knew they both wanted to talk, but I needed to breathe, and I needed to escape from them so that I could think about and understand what the hell was going on in my own heart and head.