Christine arrived two days before New Years and planned to stay through the holiday. We had agreed to go to a show that she was excited to see as she had always been a much bigger fan of musicals than I was. I had no preference regarding what we saw. I was too eager to see my friend in person and tell her everything.

“You can’t tell her everything,” Seth warned.

“What about the basics?” I asked. “She already knows there was a name change. I can’t hide that.”
“You can hide how it was done and some of your reasons,” he said.

I didn’t want to hide anything from her. I never had before, and it seemed bad form to start now. “Can I tell her what you do? How we chased down Paul and why he isn’t a problem anymore”? I asked. “I think she deserves to know that much about the strange man who was calling her.”

He agreed to share that Paul was a bounty we had tracked across the country but not the specifics. As for the name change, he advised sticking to the story that I simply needed a fresh start due to some bad decisions. It was too vague an explanation for Christine, but I didn’t expect him to understand that. I promised myself I would find a way to tell her the rest of the story eventually.

With or without Seth’s knowledge. I knew she wouldn’t judge me, but maybe I didn’t need to relive it all right away either.

Besides, I’d never been very good at editing myself around her. I’d never had to be.

“I’ll find a way of stopping you if you start going off the deep end,” Seth promised. “I understand that you trust her, but there are things that are simply not any of her business.”

I let it go.

On the day of her arrival, Seth did his best to keep me grounded. I bounced around the apartment all day, unable to focus on anything in particular. The seconds seemed to creep by too. When it was finally time to go meet her, I hardly needed the subway to get to the restaurant. I could have flown on nervous energy alone. Despite not usually being a fan of public affection – even hand holding – Seth held my hand the entire way.

Christine and I spotted each other at almost the exact same moment. She had come straight from the airport and had her bag with her that looked like a large purse but held everything she could ever need. I’d always been amazed at how much she could get into that thing.

We shrieked then hugged so long that Seth had to pull us apart when the waitress came to take us to our table. I introduced them once we were seated. Christine glared at him in the sternest expression I had ever seen on her.

“So you’re the one who stole my sister, eh?” she said. “We’ll be having a talk about that later.” She wagged her finger at him, and we all laughed. But I actually looked forward to seeing that match-up. While she’d known of him when I was in Cleveland, she’d never known specifics. Hell, I hadn’t had specifics to give her. 

I let Christine talk first as her stories were going to be far easier to discuss, especially in public. She explained that she had changed departments at the university she worked at. It had been a lateral move, but she said she was happier. She’d been seeing someone for a while, but they’d broken up. She had a new cat. It all sounded so normal compared to what I was now used to. But it also felt like going home. I hadn’t felt such ease around a person since I’d left town.

“I’m boring myself with this mundane shit,” she finally said. “Can you please explain who this Paul guy was and what he was looking for?”

I looked at Seth, searching for some guidance or even a quick description, but he indicated that I should go ahead. “He was looking for clues to find me – us,” I said.

“But why?” she asked gently. Again, I looked to Seth. I really wasn’t sure how much was too much to say. When he still didn’t intervene, I buried my head in my hands and said, “I’m really not sure where to start.”

“I used to be a part-time bounty hunter,” Seth said finally. “I worked with bail bondsmen to bring back people who skip out on their bail. Paul was a bounty.”

Christine looked from Seth to me and back again. “And you know this one how, again?” she asked, pointing toward Seth.

“Originally? An office Christmas party, two years ago now. I told you about that right?” I asked. She nodded. “More recently, I saw a chance to start over and decided to go with him to chase down Paul. I’d actually met him a few times and thought I could help.”

“Okay…”

I spoke softly and deliberately. I felt like a spy or FBI agent. “But starting over meant creating a new me. The old me needed to disappear completely – you were the only link he could find to the old me.”

“Yeah, I may never get used to thinking of you as Lucy,” she said. “But does that mean he’s still looking for you?”

“As a matter of fact, he was arrested last month on charges completely unrelated to us,” Seth answered. “So no, he won’t be bothering any of us again.”

“What a mess,” Christine said.

“It hasn’t always been pretty, that’s for sure,” I said, taking a sip of my water. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you more before now. I wish I could change that, but we were both a little afraid of saying too much over the phone or internet.”

“As long as you’re alright, that’s all that matters to me,” she said, throwing her hands up. “The details are just that – details.”

Our waitress returned but we had barely glanced at our menus. We asked for more time and she smiled and walked away.

“Just so you know, this trip is on us,” Seth said. “We’ll give you money back at the apartment to cover your travel expenses, plus some for the hassle of dealing with Paul.” Seth and I had already bought the theater tickets and had led her to think that she’d be paying us for hers later.

“But I wanted to see you,” she said to me. “You don’t have to –”

“Yes, we do,” Seth said. “You’re important to my girl here, and I won’t have you put out just so you can see each other again.”

There was that tone again, that tone that did not invite argument. I couldn’t tell whether Christine picked up on it, but even if she did, she didn’t seem to fully understand the implications. That was for the best, I thought.

“At least let me pay for our dinner,” she said.

“Nope, afraid you can’t do that either,” Seth said with a smile.

“Speaking of food, we really should figure out what we want so we aren’t late for the show,” I said.
Seth looked at me with mock surprise. “Look who’s all organized and responsible,” he said. I rolled my eyes and then batted my eyelashes at him. “Does that mean I can order for myself tonight?” Sometimes he liked to order for me, but it wasn’t a regular thing. It was random, and he’d usually let me know before I looked at the menu. Tonight, I don’t think either of us had thought about it.

Christine looked at me strangely and I shrugged. “He makes the rules,” I said.

“Yes, I was just noticing that, um … necklace,” she said. “What’s going on there?”

The waitress returned and I think we each picked the first thing we looked down at. Food was not a high priority to any of us.

When she left, I considered how to explain our relationship to Christine. It should have been simple, compared to the story of our flight from Cleveland. There was only one safe-for-the-public-to-overhear answer, however. I met her eyes with a small nod. “You remember Robert, right?” I asked.

“Unfortunately,” she replied. The word oozed out of her mouth as she made no attempt to hide her contempt for my ex.

“It’s kind of like that, only better,” I said.

Christine had always been privy to my kinky side though she rarely wanted intimate details. She knew I was safe, that I “played” with various people and had “scenes” with them. She’d come to a party with me once back home because I had wanted to prove that I wasn’t hanging around dangerous people. And she’d had a vague understanding of the power exchange I’d had with Robert.  

“And you remember the Cleveland space in the Flats, right?” I asked as softly as I could manage and still be heard.

“How could I forget?” she said.

“Well, that was Cleveland – you can imagine how much bigger the scene is here,” I said, relaxing a bit. “Naturally, I had to explore that.” 

Christine nodded and accepted my explanation at face value.  I loved this woman.

When the food came, we made idle chitchat about its quality before discussing the easier to describe aspects of our lives. I told her about Alex and Claire and their upcoming wedding. I told her about what bad elves Alex and I turned out to be and about my season tickets. Despite being a football fan, she was excited for me.

As we were leaving, she asked, “Are you happy? Really happy?”

I started to cry. I couldn’t help it. Yes, I was happy and for the life of me, I couldn’t explain why, not in that moment. When I stepped outside myself and thought back to how it had all started, it was still the weirdest, most unlikely origin story I could imagine. Surely, it was all too illogical to work. And yet, here we were.

I nodded but she wasn’t looking at me. She put her arm around my shoulders. “I am,” I said as I wiped tears from my eyes. “I really am. These are happy tears, I promise.”

“That’s the important thing, isn’t it, sis?” she asked. I nodded again and we hugged each other so hard I thought one of us would break. I wished her visit would never have to end. 

-- 

Way back when, when I wasn't even sure I was going to finish this book, I came up with this scene as an ending. I worked toward it and was completely weirded out when I actually got to it and wrote it. 

I had a book. 

But then it didn't sit right with me. There had to be something else - and that's where we pick up next week!

“I have an early Christmas present for you, doll.” Seth said when I got home from work. He was beaming. But although it was early December, I’d barely thought about Christmas, let alone gifts.

“What’s that?” I asked as I took off my coat.

 “Paul Reid will not be bothering anyone for a very long time,” he said.

How do you know that?” I asked. I wanted to be happy, but I couldn’t help being a little suspicious as well.

He waved his phone at me. “I have people, remember? Nat called earlier and said Paul had been picked up on several counts of money laundering, theft, and fraud in Florida. Plus, he had outstanding warrants in several other states which officially makes this a federal case.”

The ensuing emotions were complicated. I was happy he’d been arrested but sorry he’d caused so much trouble in the meantime. I went with the easy response first. “I love that you know girl hackers, by the way. That is so cool!” I said.

“That’s all you heard from all that?” he asked, incredulous.

“Of course not,” I said as I slumped onto the arm of a chair. “I just – well, I thought you were kidding about him bilking old people out of their money.”

“I was vaguely hoping I was,” he said. “But I also know him well enough to know that was probably his motivation for being in Florida in the first place.”

“Any chance they can connect him and Christine?” I asked. “And then use her to find us?” I knew it was farfetched, but it was the only downside I could find in the whole thing.

“This has nothing to do with us or Christine,” he said. “There’s no reason for you to worry anymore.”

I grinned. “I’ll never stop worrying about everything. But this definitely takes one load off.”

“You know, one of these days I’m going to add the rule ‘worry less’ to the contract,” he said. “Nothing more specific than that. Just ‘worry less.’ It would be good for you.”

I shook my head and wandered off to make dinner. 

Until that night, I hadn’t realized what a cloud Paul still was over us. I had grown so accustomed to the tension, that voice in the back of my head that said he was going to find us eventually, that I didn’t even notice it anymore. Seth found me a few minutes later hunched over the sink with my head down.

He stood next to me, back to the sink and crossed his arms. “Or do I need to make it a rule now?” he asked.

I stood up straight and met his eyes. “I’m fine – it’s all fine,” I said. “I just needed to take a second and realize that. You know, let it sink in.”

He kissed me on the forehead in what was quickly becoming a signature move for him. “Did you have something special planned for dinner or should we go out and celebrate?” he asked.

I opted to celebrate.
…
Normally, I enjoyed the atmosphere and busy-ness around stores and on the streets this time of year, but I hadn’t been able to get into it until Seth got his call. Now it was time to start shopping in earnest – but I was wholly unprepared for the insanity that is New York during the holidays. I could barely move most of the time, and consumer bondage was not my idea of a good time. I had all the grace and agility of Myrna Loy entering the first Thin Man movie. All I needed was the dog.

I decided on a few homemade gifts instead and, in what little free time I had, started making jewelry again. It was one of those hobbies that had long ago gone by the wayside due to my finances. Now, I had a renewed interest and was pursuing it enthusiastically. Chloe and some other friends in the kink community were going to get homemade pieces, as would Alex and Claire. My boss got a simple pair of earrings and a store-bought snowglobe with a poinsettia in it because it was her favorite flower, and her birthday fell around the holidays. I even shopped for Christine in the hopes that I would see her sometime near the holiday. Seth had agreed it was safe to invite her up, but we hadn’t been able to work out the timing yet.

I had ideas for everyone but Seth. He was impossible. He could afford whatever he wanted and rarely seemed to want much. New BDSM toys seemed … cliché. He didn’t enjoy sports, and I didn’t feel like I knew enough about computers to get him any accessories. He was no help either – vague as always. I joked about giving him the “gift of submission.” He said, “What would I do with another one? Chain her in the closet as a spare?”

Later that week, it hit me. All this time he’d been using the dining room table as a work area, and we had eaten either in the living room in front of the television, or standing in the kitchen. He seemed content enough with the arrangement, but he deserved better.

I found a computer desk that would fit in a corner of our living room. It included several shelves on each side for papers and accessories, the back was a magnetic board, and it even had room for a printer. Alex went with me to pick it up and agreed to hide it at their place until Christmas Eve. My plan was to put it together after he went to bed that night.

Two days before Christmas, Christine called with a possible timeframe for coming up. “It’s not my fault, sis” she said. “You know how disorganized your mother is.”  Christine’s mother always became my mother when there was any hint of frustration or tension. Usually she was joking.

We proceeded to make arrangements for her to visit around the New Year. She worked in administration at a university and despite her wealth of vacation time, it was always difficult for her to use any of it while classes were in session. I was extremely excited at the thought of seeing her so soon.

The following evening, I tried to gently encourage Seth to go to bed early. He looked at me strangely and eventually conceded though he was obviously suspicious. I waited until I was sure he was asleep, then snuck out and knocked on Alex and Claire’s door. Alex helped me carry the large box into our apartment.  By myself, I only could have dragged it and I didn’t want to risk making that much noise.

“Doesn’t this usually involve parents and a bike?” Alex whispered once we had the box inside.

“Do you think I should have gotten him a bike?” I asked. I was completely serious. A desk suddenly seemed like an odd gift, and I was insecure about my choice.

“No,” Alex said. She drew out a pocket knife and silently started cutting through the tape that sealed the box.

“Maybe next year,” I said as I searched for directions and started pulling out long pieces of plywood that I hoped would eventually resemble something functional. Alex looked at me like I was crazy and started reading the directions. “I hope you don’t need a hammer for this,” she said.

Oh hell. I hadn’t thought of that. “I hope so too,” I answered. Alex wordlessly handed me the booklet. On the front page were pictures showing what tools were needed, including a hammer. “It was a nice thought, right?” I asked.

“Let’s see how much we can get done without it,” she said with a shrug. “I’m sure he’ll appreciate the effort.”

That was when I noticed Seth emerge from his room. “You need quieter elves, doll,” he said.

“Merry Christmas!” I said enthusiastically. I threw up my arms like a gymnast who had just stuck the most perfect landing ever. Alex shook her head and excused herself. Seth went back to his room and came out with an envelope.

“We might as well do this now,” he said smiling.

“God I’m sorry – this is not what I had in mind,” I answered. “I didn’t expect putting it together would be so involved.”

“Worry less – I’m not kidding,” he said and cocked his head so he could see the picture of the finished product on the box. “I think it’s great. Perfect too because I’ve been meaning to look for something better than the dining room table.”

I breathed a sigh of relief. “This feels more like tradition anyway,” I said. “Growing up, we always opened one present on Christmas Eve.” 

Seth kissed me on the forehead then handed me the envelope. “I know it’s not the diamond the ladies at work were hoping for, but I hope you like it.”

The envelope revealed season tickets to the New York Mets. I’d whined a bit about needing a new home team, but hadn’t realized Seth had listened. “I know you hate the Yankees,” he said. “I hope this is a sufficient alternative.”

He was right. They would never replace my beloved Indians. Despite their roster no longer including the beautiful Mike Piazza, they were definitely more interesting to me than the Evil Empire. “Check the schedule,” Seth said, as I continued going through the contents of the envelope.

​ “The actual tickets will come later but there is something called ‘interleague play’ and the Indians will be in town for that before too long.”

I shrieked like a little girl. This was definitely a successful first Christmas together. 

“Forget what the coffee commercials say,” Seth said as we made breakfast. “I maintain that the best part of waking up is morning sex and going back to sleep.”

After the morning we’d had, I was inclined to agree.

It had been more than two weeks since our initial sexual encounter and there hadn’t been a peep from Seth’s bedroom. Of course, I didn’t dare bring it up or ask for a next time lest I be put on an orgasm embargo. Instead, I’d made my own fun, either by myself or sexting with Chloe and Justin. There hadn’t been time that fit in all our schedules to get together again.

On this day, he’d snuck into my bedroom while it was still dark. Not much of an accomplishment now that the days were growing so short, but it was still earlier than I would have chosen to be awake. Especially on a weekend. I woke with a start to find his hand over my mouth. “I couldn’t sleep,” he said simply. As if that explained everything.

My eyes grew wide as I silently searched him for clues as to his intentions. We both slept naked so it was difficult to hide much, but I could see my baseball ballgag in his other hand. “Not a word,” he said as he saw me notice it. “And I’m going to make sure of it.” Seth removed his hand and I had just enough time to take a deep breath before he placed the gag in my mouth.

“Up on your knees,” he said. “Face the wall and put your hands behind your back.” I did so, kneeling up, and quickly felt handcuffs being snapped onto my wrists. He pulled me back so my butt was on my heels and my back was arched. I moaned as he grabbed and pinched each nipple in turn. He placed a clover clamp on my right nipple then pulled the chain around one of the poles of the headboard and attached the other one to my left nipple. Seth shoved me up against the headboard, my nose and forehead touching the wall.

He then grabbed a fistful of hair and wove a length of rope through it, tying it tight and drawing the extra down my back, securing it around the handcuff chain. The rope allowed very little slack and I was left to stare at the corner where wall met ceiling. I had some leeway if I moved my hands farther up my back but I couldn’t hold that position for long.

I felt Seth’s weight leave the bed and strained to see where he was, what he might be doing. He stood back a couple of feet to admire his handiwork before leaning in for a closer look. “Comfy?” he asked, grinning. I could see him from the corner of my eye, just inches from my ear.

I struggled to talk through the gag. No, I wasn’t fucking comfy. But there was nothing intelligible. I tried to use my eyes to plead with him, but they had no effect. “Shush now,” he said. “You’ll be screaming plenty in a minute.”

His latest toy was a dragontail he’d bought at the Festival, a long, thin strip of leather connected to a whip-like handle. I heard him crack it and flinched, but he hadn’t been aiming to hit me, just scare me. It worked.

The blows fell on my ass lightly at first, and slowly, but Seth quickly moved up in both intensity and volume. I tried to writhe, but the entire setup was an exercise in predicament bondage, and I continued to shriek as much as the gag would allow.

He stopped suddenly, releasing my hair and then my nipples. The relief was short lived, however, as he pulled my body back and pushed my face down on the mattress. He grabbed me by the hips and his now sizable and rock hard cock was in me seconds later. His body slapping against my already burning ass caused the perfect combination of pleasure and pain. I could think of nothing else.

I came, hard, while he was mid-stroke and was glad he hadn’t made me beg for the privilege. 

When he was done, he removed the gag before heading to the bathroom. I stretched my jaw and laid myself down to wait for him. He returned and lay down beside me stroking my hair. “You wore me out, girl,” he said. “Now I need a nap.” He pulled the covers up around us and closed his eyes.

“Sir?” I ventured.

“Shhhh,” he said.

Within minutes, I was back asleep too, on my side with my hands still pinned behind me. I don’t know how long we both slept, but when I opened my eyes, he was already looking over at me. “You do have the key to those, right?” he asked.

“That’s not funny,” I said.

“I laughed,” he said, grinning.

The arm I’d been sleeping on had fallen asleep and I sat up to revive it as he got up and left the room, presumably to find said key. The skin on my ass was screaming, and I looked forward to seeing the damage in the mirror. Strange thing about us masochists, I thought, that we enjoyed our marks so much. They were often like a badge of honor.

“Is this what you want?” he asked as he returned and held up the handcuff key. I had managed to stand up and was stretching as much as I could, even moving my shoulders back and forth in an effort to crack my back. My legs trembled as I tried to find my balance.

“Yes, Sir,” I said.

“I like this look on you though,” he said, still grinning.

“I can’t get much done like this,” I said. “Not even shower or get dressed.”

“Maybe I want to keep you as my very own naked slave girl,” he whispered in my ear.

“I think they would object to that at work,” I said.

“If only you had consented to be a 50s housewife, work wouldn’t be such a problem,” he said.

“I also have to pee,” I told him as I turned around. “Please?”

“Oh alright, there are other things I wanted to try with you today anyway,” he said and then slapped my ass one more time.

“Ow!” I shrieked. “What other things?”

“Not yet – after your shower,” he said as he removed the cuffs. “Now go. Just don’t get dressed when you’re done.”

I stared at him a second, searching for some type of explanation but none was forthcoming. Instead, he shooed me away. When I was done in the shower, I joined him in the living room where he was sitting on the couch watching television. I knelt in front of him.

Seth looked down at me proudly. The “good girl” was implied. But we quickly agreed that food was more important than protocol. As we gathered ingredients for pancakes and bacon and caffeine, he asked what I thought of objectification.

It was a tough subject for me. While it wasn’t something I was eager to do frequently or even regularly, I was still intrigued by it, if only because it was such a broad term and could be interpreted in so many different ways.

“It depends on what you mean,” I said. “I don’t want to be someone’s ashtray or toilet, but I think there are ways it could work.”

Seth looked at me quizzically. “I hadn’t thought of using a person as an ashtray before but now I want to start smoking again so I can do it,” he said.

“When did you smoke?” I asked. I’d never seen it and suddenly wished I had. Maybe it was all the old movies I watched, but it seemed there were certain people who were born to have a cigarette in their hands. The more I pictured it, the more I realized Seth was one of them.

“Long ago and far away,” he said simply.

“Right, well, despite cigars being all the rage lately, I’ve always been partial to being used as a table or footstool myself,” I said.

“Have you ever done it?” he asked.

“Very little,” I said. “I experimented a bit when I first entered the community by being a footstool but never had a chance to try it again.”

“Would you like to change that?” he asked. I did.

I found myself struck again by the odd turns our conversations sometimes took. While they were commonplace enough between us or amongst our kinky friends, I sometimes tried to hear these same conversations from the point of view of an outsider. How bizarre and utterly foreign we must sound. No wonder Alex and Claire didn’t ask more questions. 

“Do you think anyone ever expects to grow up and live this sort of life?” I asked. “I mean, what child says, ‘I’m going to grow up and be someone’s slave’?”

“They may not think in those types of specifics, but you’ve said that you knew you wanted to be tied up even as a little kid,” he said. 

It was true. I’d used my jump rope to tie myself to my swing set before I even knew it was weird. When I got strange looks from my mother, I had retreated to my bedroom and used sheets and pillowcases and eventually pantyhose instead. I’d been too young for it to be sexual at first – I just liked the tightness of it.  

“What about you?” I asked. “Did you always have a dominant personality? Like, even if you didn’t call it that, were you the leader of your friends group and all that?”

Seth thought for a moment, with no real expression that I could read. “I wouldn’t say that,” he said finally.

“No telling your friends what to do then?” I prodded.  

Seth returned to eating his pancakes. When he spoke again, it was softly as if he were reliving something very painful. It had been awhile since I’d seen his walls go up so obviously. “Quite the opposite actually,” he said. Pointing at himself with his fork, he added, “Computer geek, remember?”

I tried again to imagine Seth as a child. It had never been an image that came easily. He was one of those people who seemed to have always been an adult, largely because he rarely talked about his past at all. He’d revealed more during our cross-country drives than he ever had before and not much since.

But trying to imagine him as the stereotypical nerd, skinny and bespectacled, was even harder. He wore contacts now but surely that hadn’t always been the case. “You’re staring again,” he said as he gestured toward my plate. “Eat your breakfast.”

“What were you like at 10?” I pressed.

“I can’t imagine why that’s important,” he said.

“Were you in math club?” I asked. “Hanging out with the other nerds and their calculators just waiting for home computers to catch on?” I laughed a little at the idea. I must have been riding high in the afterglow of great sex, because it wasn’t like me to taunt him like that.

“Drop it, babe,” he said.

“I’m sorry,” I said. “I wasn’t trying to make fun of you.”

“You’d hardly be the first,” he said.

Now my heart broke for him. I’d endured plenty of teasing myself, not for anything specific but just because that’s the way kids are. They picked on anything that was different, from a difficult-to-pronounce last name to someone’s natural shyness. But the result was that I had mostly kept to myself and tried to stay off their radar. I hadn’t found any real popularity until I went off to college. And now I seemed to be unfairly taking it out on Seth.

“I’m really sorry – I’d never considered you like that,” I said. “And it’s a little difficult to imagine now.”

“Then maybe you should stop trying,” he said.

“Were you badly bullied?” I asked.

Seth froze for several seconds then took his fork and plate to the sink. “That’s a very modern term,” he said. “Nobody would have called it that then.”

“Whatever you call it, I want to say I’m sorry it happened to you,” I said.

“There are reasons I transformed myself,” he said. “There are reasons I learned to fight. Let’s leave it at that, alright?”

“Of course,” I said quietly.

“Now, clean these up and we’ll see about turning you into a footstool,” he said, then kissed me on the forehead and walked away. I stared after him for several seconds before I could move at all. I stared at the strong, confident man before me and wished that anyone who had ever been cruel to him could see him now. I wanted them to see what I saw and be ashamed of themselves. If we could get them together with the people who had teased or ignored me, all the better.

But when I rejoined him in the living room, he said, “This doesn’t seem like a natural thing to want.”

“Like the rest of what we do is so normal?” I asked. “Trust me, it’s a very powerful thing to literally be under someone else’s foot.”

“I’ve had plenty of people under my boots, doll,” he said. “But I never expected someone to actually want to be there.”

That was chilling. I had to wonder when I would fully come to terms with who he had been vs. who he was trying to be. Hearing him talk about it so bluntly was still jarring. “We don’t have to do it,” I said. “You were the one who brought it up.”

“I did,” he said. “But most of what we do flows out of some sort of need – I’m trying to teach you something or show you a different way of thinking. This doesn’t fit into that.”

I laughed aloud. “And what exactly were you trying to ‘teach’ me earlier this morning?” I asked.

“Well that was just good, clean fun,” he said with a wide smile. “We dominants are allowed to have fun too.”

“I don’t think so,” I said. “You must be completely serious at all times or risk losing your dominate card.”

He lunged out of his seat and I barely had a chance to step back before he reached me. But I was closer to the wall than I realized and his hands were around my neck, knocking the wind out of me almost instantly. “Like this?” he said calmly. I nodded wordlessly. I didn’t think he wanted to hurt me, but it felt like he might have shoved me harder than he meant to. “I wouldn’t want to disappoint you.”

I searched his eyes, trying to decipher whether he was still being playful. Again, I couldn’t read him.  I simply shook my head no as he released me and pushed me back toward the couch. “Hands and knees then,” he said. I did as I was told, but he walked away toward my bedroom. He returned a minute later with my thick leather collar and duct tape. As he knelt down next to me, he said, “I’m pretty sure footstools aren’t supposed to talk.”

When he was done gagging me, he sat down on the couch and leaned down close to me with his elbows on his knees. “Also, when I say to let something go, you should do it.”

I made a mental note. So much for there not being a lesson here. He attached the leash and then sat up with it in his hand, apparently to be completely sure I wasn’t going anywhere. He stayed that way, feet on my back, until my phone rang half an hour later.

“Hello,” I heard Seth say. “No, she can’t talk right now. She’s … busy.” He hung up and looked down at me. “Later, you’ll think that was funny,” he said. But not only did I not think it was funny yet, I desperately needed to pee. I gestured toward the bathroom with my head and made as much noise as I could. He got the message.

“I’m pretty sure tables and footstools don’t do that either, but I’ll allow it this once,” he said with a wink. “As long as you crawl there and back.”

I rolled my eyes – once I was away from him, of course – and moved as fast as I could. For someone who had been reluctant to try this type of play, he had adjusted fast. “You’re lucky I didn’t cuff your ankles together too,” he called after me. In the bathroom, I finally had a chance to check out the damage to my ass from earlier in the morning. Sitting was definitely going to be problematic for the next day or so.

When I returned, he said he was going to give my knees a break and had me lie on my stomach instead. The position had its advantages. I even imagined I could fall asleep like that until he put one foot at the base of my neck. “Just so you don’t forget about me,” he said.

I couldn’t possibly.

While down there, however, I found I had plenty of time to think. The sound of the television became dull background noise as my mind wandered to something that had bothered me since the first play party we’d gone to. Angel had referred to me as a slave. Seth and I had used the word a few times since, but only as a joke. I still wasn’t convinced that it fit me.  I had never identified as a slave, never even wanted that title for myself. But I couldn’t help thinking that it was, in essence, what I had become.

I had long ago given up reading online discussions on the differences between being a submissive and a slave. All anyone seemed able to agree on was that slaves had fewer choices. Often it was said that they had given up the right to have any choices. But the discussions were often nauseating and always seemed to end up with someone playing “devil’s advocate” and asking, “but what if he makes you do something illegal?” In my mind, until it came to such matters, the differences were largely academic, as everyone’s dynamic was going to be different no matter how they labeled it.

But the one element that had popped up, again and again, was the notion that a slave was unable to say no, while a submissive could pick and choose which areas they relinquished their control of. So, while Seth hardly micro-managed me, our rules meant that I had essentially given up the right to refuse him anything. Thus far, he hadn’t ordered anything I wanted to refuse.

When Seth released me, I decided to tell him what I’d been thinking about.

“I have something to say first, Lu,” he answered. I nodded and he continued. “I’m sorry about earlier – I overreacted when you joked about having to always be serious.”

I was speechless. “… it’s okay,” I said. “I didn’t really think anything of it.”

“But I nearly lost control with you and that’s not acceptable,” he said.

And this was exactly why he was a good dominant, I thought. “Thank you,” I said sincerely. I was truly touched by the admission and wasn’t sure there was anything else to be said.

“Now what did you want to talk about?” he asked.

I almost couldn’t remember – my focus had shifted, and I was so overwhelmed by his apology that I had to scramble to recall what I’d spent the last hour thinking about. “Do you really think of me as your slave?” I asked finally.

“How else would I think of you?” he asked. He looked genuinely perplexed.

I explained my thought process to him. “Besides, if I’m a slave, wouldn’t you have to be a Master?” I asked. “I’m not comfortable with that word in general and I’m pretty sure I couldn’t refer to you that way.”

“Slow down,” he said. “I hope I’m not pretentious enough to call myself a Master.”

I cut him off there. “Not all Masters are pretentious.”

“I’m sure you’re right,” he said with a shrug. “Would you rather I thought of you as a submissive instead?”

“That’s just it,” I said. “I don’t know. I mean … I am basically a slave in practice, but I only just realized that and I’m not sure how I feel about it.”

“Stop trying to label it and carry on doing it then,” he said. “I don’t care what we call it.” His tone wasn’t nearly as harsh as his words. He honestly didn’t seem to care one way or another and I decided I didn’t either.

“Labels can bite me,” I said.
​
“Good girl,” he answered. 

It was a good thing I’d been at my job awhile and knew what I was doing because I spent most of the next day in a trance. I couldn’t wait to get home and talk to Seth. I had been serious when I’d told him I didn’t want it to be a one off. I needed him to understand that. Of course it was an overtime day though. A late meeting meant I had to stay and make sure everything was ready and let the caterers in and out.

By the time I got home, I was almost too tired to talk about the night before and would have been happy to just put it off a day. When I knelt in front of him, Seth smiled in that deceptively sweet way that made him look much more innocent than he was. But he said nothing directly, only dismissed me so I could get myself dinner. He’d eaten without me.

I stood in the kitchen to decompress from the day, knowing that if I sat down I wouldn’t want to get back up again, even to do the few dishes that needed to be done. I was leaning on the counter with my back to the living area, mentally checking off what remained on my to-do list before bed when he came in and stood across from me.

“I know you’re overthinking last night,” he said with a small grin.

“Actually, I’ve just been reliving the good parts all day,” I said. “And by good parts, I mean all of it.”
He bridged the distance between us and kissed me gently. His kiss was almost as deceptive as his smile, sweet but a mask for so much more.

​“I’ve been thinking too, and this is how things are going to go,” he said. “When I want you, I will come to you. You may or may not have advance warning. You will also keep the toybag in your room near the bed, and your bedside table will stay stocked with lubes and condoms along with a few other basic toys – clothespins, slappers, that sort of thing. Is that clear?”

Oh god yes, I thought. Out loud, I said, “Yes, Sir – but what about the times in between?”

“That’s up to you. I’m not interested in dictating your orgasms if I’m not there, though I may be rethinking that,” he said with a wink. “Just keep in mind that I might come for you at any time.” He paused as he let that last statement sink in. “Also – and this is important – asking for sex will lead to me limiting both your orgasms and the frequency of my visits. Is that also clear?”

“Crystal, Sir,” I said. I continued hesitantly. “But there is one thing that sort of bothered me. It’s been on my mind all day.”

“What is it?” he asked.

I squirmed. Maybe it wasn’t that big of a deal after all. Maybe I should have just let it go and ignored it. We were in a good place and I was happy. Did I really want to risk disturbing that? Yes,

I did.

“Well, maybe I should have brought it up before, but I didn’t think about it,” I said. “Honestly, it’s not something I usually think about at all.”

He raised an eyebrow in a silent question that meant I needed to get on with it.

“I’m not usually a fan of being slapped,” I said finally. “And when you’ve done it before, it was in anger. And well, I’m pretty sure that’s not how you meant it last night but even weirder is that I really didn’t mind—it was okay.” I finally took a breath. “Shit – am I making sense?”

He smiled down at me. “Yes, you’re making sense. And you’re right, I wasn’t angry – I was trying to emphasize a point and make sure I had your focus.”

I stared at the floor. “You definitely had my attention – before and after. I think I’m mainly confused by my reaction. I’ve never even come close to enjoying that and I’m not sure why it was okay from you.”

“Heat of the moment, maybe,” he said. “I won’t make it a regular thing though. Unless you’d rather cut it out all together?”

Still staring at the floor, I started fidgeting with my sweater. “I don’t know – there are ways of getting my attention that are just as effective but if –”

He grabbed my hands and held them against the counter behind me.  Finally, I looked up at him. “Talk to me – tell me what’s okay here.”

 I didn’t want to spell this out. Not yet. The truth was that I still wasn’t sure. But the fact that he asked … goddamn, that was sexy. I spoke quietly, almost in a whisper. “I guess it can be a sometimes thing.”

He stepped back and crossed his arms over his chest. “You guess? Since when are you so afraid to speak your mind? This isn’t a deal breaker for me and if you don’t want it repeated, it won’t be.”
“It’s just – I didn’t want this to be awkward and now it is,” I said. “I’m kind of sorry I brought it up.”
He approached again and wrapped his arms around me. “Don’t be sorry,” he said. He held me for a minute, while I breathed deeply and willed myself to believe it really was okay. “Feel better?” he asked. 

“Actually, I do,” I answered.

“Good,” he said as he stepped back again. “So aside from the obvious distractions, how was the rest of your day?”

I relayed a few of the specifics and shared a little gossip but I still had more questions. “What will Julie think of all this?” I asked.

“She’ll be okay,” he said. “She sees other people too.”

Suddenly, our little web of lovers seemed huge. I knew Chloe had at least one other regular lover besides Justin, though she had assured me that they were both disease free. And who knew how many other people Julie was seeing. “Sounds like it’s time to start testing regularly again,” I said.

“Good thinking,” Seth answered.

There was one more question I couldn’t let go of though. “By the way,” I said. “How long had you been thinking of … that is, did you have last night planned? I mean, it didn’t exactly feel rehearsed but it didn’t feel entirely spontaneous either – it’s like you’d had it in mind for awhile.”

Seth just grinned and kissed me on the forehead. “Let’s just say you’re not the only one who can overthink things,” he said as he walked away. As I started to clean up, I couldn’t help smiling too. I was excited by the possibilities and looked forward to sharing with Chloe how our threesomes had led to changes at home. I hoped she’d be happy. And while it had taken a huge gamble on my part to get things going, Seth had firmly retained control. 

As the following weeks passed, I started to look at Seth differently. The initial threesome – along with the two that came after, pun intended – had given me a taste of what I needed, and I wondered if I could stay with someone who wasn’t meeting both my emotional and physical needs.

Would it be enough to have others meet those needs when I had to look at him every day and know that I wanted him to meet them as well?

If the answer was no, what did that mean for us? Could I ask him to move out? Could I move out? The apartment we were in wasn’t that far out of reach for me financially, but his help made things comfortable, meant that I didn’t have to worry about money for the first time in my adult life. In the end, I decided I would just have to get used to it. I couldn’t keep banging my head against the same wall expecting different results, and I enjoyed having him around too much to break us up completely.

“Do you think I don’t see you over there staring at me?” Seth asked. It was after dinner on a Wednesday evening and I was sitting across from him on the couch. I hadn’t even realized I was staring at him.

“What? Oh, I was just staring off into space,” I said.

“Bullshit,” he said. “You’ve been moony and distant ever since you started seeing those two. Every time I look up, you have that same look on your face.”

“Amazing what good, regular sex can do for a girl, isn’t it?” I said. Seth raised an eyebrow and continued searching me for a better answer. “Seriously, it’s not that big of an apartment. There aren’t that many places to look.”

Seth nodded with a slight shrug then returned his attention to the television. I built up my courage while I waited for the next commercial break. If I had learned anything over the past few months, it was to find the confidence I needed for any given situation in myself. Seth hadn’t gotten me my job. I had gone in and convinced them I could do it and then proven myself. I had done a lot of work, both externally and internally and the results were obvious.

I had made friends, found my place, and rediscovered my real self, a self that had only been hinted at when I’d been in the community back home. I had started to genuinely like myself for the first time in my life and believe that I was a good and worthy person.

I was 34 and it was about damn time.

Now it was time to make sure Seth believed it too.  

“Is the fact that we both have other partners now the reason why you and I aren’t a thing?” I blurted out.

“It could be argued that you and I are a thing,” he replied with a grin.

“You know what I mean,” I said. “I’ve been in open relationships for as long as I’ve been kinky. It doesn’t bother me.”

Seth switched off the television and dropped his hands to his lap. “I told you before that none of this was part of my plan. Not you, not moving here, none of it.”

“So we’re back to it being my fault, is that – ”

“Let me finish,” he barked and stood to pace the room. “As a result, I’ve decided to take everything one step at a time, tread lightly you might say. I’ve tried to approach all of this logically.”

“And?” I asked. There had to be a point in there somewhere. Had I missed it?

“I think I’ve been waiting for you to fail,” he mused. I started to protest, but he cut me off. “That’s not the same as expecting you to, by the way. I knew you could do it. I hoped you would. But I don’t think I was prepared for you to actually get this far.”

I stood to meet his eyes more easily, challenge him if I had to. Because I still had no idea where he was going with this. “What are you saying then?” I asked.

“See, if you had failed, it would have been really easy to walk away,” he continued. “I knew how to do that. I would have blamed you, and life would have carried on the way it was supposed to.”

 “But because I haven’t …”

“I’m trying to figure out how to throw logic out the window,” he said as he advanced on me. “Because how did you put it on the way here? Who would want to start out this way?”

Who would want this as an origin story. That’s what I’d said. I stood by it too. This was not normal. This was not something we could tell our friends about while waxing romantic about true love overcoming all. “Right,” I muttered.

“This is crazy, right?” he asked, still advancing.

My back hit a wall. A few inches to the left and I would have been in the hallway leading to the bedrooms. “That it is,” I said. It came out in a whisper.

“You just had to go and fuck everything up, didn’t you?” he said. The next thing I knew, his hand was in my hair, and he was kissing me. Devouring me, exploring my mouth with his tongue. I reciprocated and moved my hands to his hips and then his back, drawing him even closer to me. When we finally came up for air, I was speechless.

His hand on my neck moved to my hair and he led me into my bedroom, practically dragging me. He could have been a caveman, minus the big club. He threw me onto the bed and then pounced on top of me, pinning me down by the wrists and straddling me with his legs. “Trying to get away from me?” he asked, his face about an inch away from my own.

“Never. Sir,” I whispered.

I was still catching my breath, still trying to believe this was actually happening. I could barely nod, let alone speak. He moved my arms so he was holding both wrists over my head with one of his hands and then slapped me hard. “Say it,” he growled. “I want you to beg me.”

“Please … I – I –”

“You knew what you wanted in my kitchen, and I’m willing to bet you know now,” he said. “Am I wrong?”

I struggled under his weight, tried to squirm or get my hands free but it was no use. “No,” I confessed, more confident now. “But I want more than a quick fuck now.”

Seth laughed that mirthless chuckle of his and released me. “We’ll get there,” he said. “Now get undressed.” Maybe another time I would perform a slow striptease for him, but this wasn’t the night for it. I sat up and tossed my sweater along with the rest of my clothes to the floor.

Without another word he repositioned me so my head was at the top of the bed. Again, he secured my wrists over my head but with the rope he had left attached to the headboard. “Is this your idea of an emergency?” I asked.

“You could say that,” he said then cupped my pussy in his fist while his lips wrapped around a nipple. His teeth bit down hard, and my back arched. I strained against the ropes and there was enough slack that, if I truly wanted out, I could probably figure out a way.

I didn’t.

Instead, I wrapped my legs around him, moaned in pleasure and kissed all the places I could reach. If he wanted my focus and attention, he had it. All I knew was that room. There was no time, no job tomorrow, no air except what he allowed me to have. We were the only two people in the world.

Finally, he sat up and started removing his clothes. I stared at his chest and the graceful definition of his abs and hips. I longed to reach out and hold him, caress him, place my lips on every inch of him. When he stood up and removed his pants, he was already hard.

When he walked out of the room, I assumed it was for toys or duct tape. My mind reeled with possibilities. He came back with a condom. In my haste, that had been the last thing on my mind, and I didn’t have any anyway. He placed it on the bedside table for safe keeping and straddled me again, grabbing my breasts and putting all his weight on them as he leaned down over me. I moaned and writhed, closed my eyes and tried to breathe through the pain. “Look at me,” he commanded. I did.

He squeezed harder and I winced but continued to match his gaze. He took it as a challenge and continued bearing down. I cried out and squirmed but there was no respite. Moving his body up mine, he placed his dick in my cleavage and clamped my breasts around it. “Maybe I should come on you and then leave you like this,” he whispered as he continued to thrust back and forth. “That would show you, wouldn’t it?”

“Yes, Sir,” I whimpered. Closing my eyes again, I enjoyed the motion of him on top of me. Just then, he grabbed my hair and pushed my head back, forcing me to cry out again. But the sound was soon muffled by his cock in my mouth. I gagged as he lowered himself and he slowed, giving me a chance to adjust.

I moved my mouth over him, caressing him with my lips and licking around the tip and as far down the shaft as I could. I could hear him moan in response as he grabbed the headboard for support. I looked up at him and had never seen such pleasure or so much approval in his eyes.

My jaw began to ache quickly. My hands already ached. More than anything I desired the simple ability to touch him in return, use my hands to increase his pleasure. But I couldn’t move my head enough to get out from under him, let alone try to explain what else I was capable of.

Soon after, he pulled out and ordered me onto my hands and knees. There was plenty of slack in the rope, but I needed help getting the leverage to turn over. Seth was not gentle. He grabbed my hips and forced me over so that most of my weight rested on my elbows and my forehead pressed against the bars of the headboard. I heard him open the condom wrapper and then he was in me, thrusting fast and hard. I moaned and yelled as he did, and didn’t care if any of our neighbors could hear us.

He was done before I was and when he pulled out I feared he really wouldn’t let me finish but he grabbed me by the back of the neck and began fingering me. “You’re close, aren’t you?” he said.

“Yes,” I whispered almost inaudibly.

He squeezed down again. “Yes … what?”

“Yes, Sir,” I said louder. But I was out of breath.

“Beg me to let you come. Convince me you deserve it,” he said.

His expert fingers massaged me right to the brink of orgasm and then stopped as he slapped my ass. When I didn’t speak immediately, he kept spanking me, each slap harder than the last. “Please Sir! Please may I come now?” I cried.

“Convince me,” he said calmly, as if it were a job interview. His fingers began rubbing my clit again, circling and pressing down just so.

“Because I can’t help it and I’m going to any second whether you like it or not,” I finally said.

“Can’t argue with that.” I heard him stifle a laugh. “Whenever you’re ready then.”

The spasms came quickly after that. I bucked so much under him that I feared I would have marks from the headboard on my forehead the next day. But in that moment, nothing mattered but that glorious release.

When I collapsed, he released my hands and lay down beside me. I curled up in his arms and quickly fell asleep.

--- 

Finally!!  The original build up in this chapter was not only longer, but a result of them not having had sex before this. Now that they had, all that needed to change. 

One thing that never changes - and never will? The line about being a caveman. My original editor tried to get me to take it out and I refused then too. It is a very specific reference to a very specific and very special person. ​