Jules

 

Five years earlier

 

Sandra sat beside me, her hands folded in her lap, her face pointed downward. Before we’d left, she had gotten dressed as per my specifications. I picked out all of her clothes, things she wore only in public or when we had company over. Otherwise, she remained completely naked in my house – except for the collar that we’d picked out years ago. Her black dress was form fitting, but not revealing. The skirt tapered down to just below her knees, accentuating her hips and her small waist. The top part of it was lacy over her breasts, both hinting at their size, and hiding anything that might be inappropriate. She could fit in at a cocktail party or she could pick up a preschooler from class. She was demure, elegant, and wholly submissive to me. We’d been together for a long time now and I trusted her, or at least, I thought I did. Lately, I’d been beginning to wonder.

 

The hospital was the same blinding white that it always was and the smell of antiseptic was sprayed in heavy doses in a vain attempt to cover up the obvious cloud of sickness that permeated the room.

 

I hated it here and would give just about anything to leave. But we were waiting on the doctor to come back with the news.

 

I reached over automatically and grabbed one of Sandra’s hands in her lap. She turned it over obligingly and twined her fingers with mine. They were so much smaller and delicate. They were slightly reddened still from the time they’d spent submerged in hot water while doing dishes. The color put me on edge, making me remember how I’d swatted her ass until it was that same color. Until there were lines from the crop that were so red and so deep, they were marks of blood.

 

The thought left a bad taste in my mouth and if we were at home, I might have tried to bring it up. Except that the last time I did, she’d only said, “Yes, Master,” like some automaton doll with a talking feature.

 

It had made me angrier than just about anything else she’d done – or not done – lately. As punishment, I’d made her sleep downstairs on a bedroll with nothing but a throw blanket and a pillow. The result was for her to give me an immediate apology this morning coupled with an exquisite blow job.

 

She told me that she wanted me to be happy and that she’d do anything for that.

 

We’d settled a little since then, but the memories remained. I couldn’t shake how she moaned every time I swatted her. How she begged for more. How when we went shopping for toys, she would pick out the riskiest and the most likely to cause some form of pain.

 

It was starting to worry me.

 

“Your mother will be alright,” she murmured in that sweet, soft voice of hers.

 

I looked over at her to find that her eyes were already fixed on me, a rare occurrence these days unless she was on her knees staring up at me. Which meant she usually had my cock in her mouth. Her eyes were hazel and set perfectly in her heart shaped face. She had perfect bow lips that pouted just so and smiled brightly. And her body… It was the kind of body men dreamed of. Curvy in all the right places, but tiny at the waist. She was toned, because I made sure she did exercises four times a week and we had a pretty active sex life to boot. But she wasn’t overly muscular. She was just… perfect.

 

Once I’d asked her why she hadn’t decided to be a model or something along those lines. She was that kind of pretty.

 

She’d only shrugged and told me, “That’s not the kind of life that I want.” It was all she would ever say on it.

 

“You’re right,” I told her, forcing a smile that wasn’t genuine. I was stressed out about my mother who was still in surgery, but I was also stressed out about Sandra. She was so… different lately. Sometimes I just couldn’t figure out what she wanted anymore and that worried me.

 

We fell quiet again, until I leaned forward and said, “Sandra?”

 

“Yes, Master?”

 

Strictly speaking, we were in public so she didn’t have to address me as master – just like she was allowed to wear clothes if only for the sake of public decency. But we were also alone in the waiting room and she’d said it quietly enough that probably no one would have heard even if they’d been listening.

 

“I love you, pet.”

 

She smiled at me, her bow shaped lips fitting perfectly in her apple cheeks. It made her look younger and sweeter, more wholesome. It was why I’d always loved it when she smiled, especially when we were doing something particularly naughty. I often asked her to smile up at me when I had her trussed up to the bed or cuffed into one of the slings. There was just something about the dynamic of being sexually deviant while looking so innocent that drove me absolutely nuts.

 

“I love you, too, Master,” she answered me. She lifted up her chin, angling her face in a way that told me she wanted me to kiss her. “May I have a kiss, Master?”

 

She was so good about asking for permission or for things that she wanted. Which was why I was getting a little worried about her random outbursts of rebellion. She knew the rules so well… it couldn’t be an accident that she was suddenly disobeying.

 

“Of course, pet,” I told her. Then I leaned forward and sealed my mouth to hers. She melted against me and I slid my tongue along the seam of her lips to open her up. She did so instantly, letting my tongue plunder her mouth.

 

I didn’t do anything more than kiss there in the hospital, because I was strict about things like that. Nothing unseemly. Nothing inappropriate. Nothing that drew unnecessary attention.

 

Thus my surprise when I felt Sandra’s hand slip into my lap. She found my crotch quickly and added pressure to her palm there. She began to massage me and despite my own rules, I grew hard beneath her ministrations.

 

I ended our kiss so abruptly that she was still leaning forward toward me with her mouth open and wanting. Her hand gave my cock another squeeze before I wrapped a large hand around her small wrist so tight that it probably hurt her. “What are you doing?” I hissed at her, trying to keep my composure.

 

This was a goddamn hospital and my mother was in surgery. This was way out of line.

 

She closed her mouth, puckering her lips in a pouting sort of way. She had her eyes open wide and looked every bit as innocent as a newborn baby. Except that she was a woman and I’d done some incredibly dirty things with her that reminded me that she was well and full an adult and knew exactly what she was doing.

 

“I’m sorry, Master. I only wanted to be close with you.”

 

I didn’t believe her for a second. She knew the rules and this was a big one. Given the circumstance, it was even more important that she follow it.

 

“You broke a rule, Sandra,” I told her sternly.

 

She dropped her eyes, looking every bit the part of contrite.

 

Gritting my teeth, I said the words that I had started to dread: “I’m going to have to punish you.”

 

Her skin flushed instantly and I saw her tits rise as she breathed in deeply. I couldn’t see her mouth, because she’d dropped her chin, but I could almost bet that there was a smile there. A devilish little smile that would tell me that this was all deliberately done just to get to the punishment part of all of this.

 

Would Sandra really break one of my biggest rules while we sat here in the hospital waiting for my mother to get out of surgery? All for the punishment that would await her at home?

 

A few months ago, the answer would have been an automatic ‘no.’ Now, I wasn’t so sure.

 

I wanted to talk to her. I needed to. But I also needed to make sure she understood that there were rules and disobeying meant punishment.

 

I was beginning to think that I needed to find a way to make the punishments less pleasant for her.

 

After another thirty minutes of waiting, my mother came out of surgery. She was fine and was expected to make a full recovery. It was the best news that I’d gotten in a long time. We visited with her very briefly, because she needed her rest, and I promised to return the following day. Then Sandra and I headed home.

 

She’d been quite since being scolded at the hospital and I had almost forgotten all about her transgression – and the punishment that would go with it – until I saw her immediately strip as soon as we walked in. She unzipped her black dress and shimmied it down her sensuous body. She wasn’t wearing any underwear to start with, so her ass was already bare – and still red with the spanking marks from the crop earlier. She took off her bra next and carefully folded it and the dress before setting it aside on the table next to the couch. Then she settled herself in the middle of the floor, on her hands and knees. She leaned forward until her face was touching the floor and pushed her ass up into the air. I could see already that she was glistening.

 

Because she wanted it. She wanted the punishment.

 

Pursing my lips together, I debated calling the whole thing off. She was so interested in punishment, maybe the real punishment would be to not punish her at all. But I knew that wouldn’t do. There were rules and consequences. I couldn’t let this just slide.

 

No, instead, I needed to make things more intense. More painful so that she wouldn’t be so eager to disobey next time.

 

“Stay like that,” I ordered her.

 

She trembled with desire, but otherwise held her position. I disappeared into the playroom to find something to use for punishment. I decided on a wide, flat paddle with rounded bumps in it, a pair of cuffs that would attach to her collar – which I also grabbed – and something that the two of us only occasionally used. A ball gag.

 

I headed back to the living room to find that she was exactly as I’d left her.

 

“Are you ready for your punishment, pet?”

 

She answered immediately. “Yes, Master.”

 

“Good.”

 

I put her collar on first, then the cuffs. I attached the cuffs to the collar after folding her arms behind her back. Finally, I gagged her mouth, which earned another shudder of pleasure from her.

 

I stood back then and caressed her ass. Then I swatted her with the paddle.

 

I pulled myself from the memory, shaking my head as though that might dislodge it. Of course, I wouldn’t forget that night. I never could. Sandra had been gagged and restrained, so she could never tell me when I’d gone too far and I was so messed up emotionally right in that moment, that I didn’t really care. I didn’t even think of it. I paddled her ass until she was raw and then I slipped in, not caring if she was ready or not.

 

It shouldn’t have been how I punished her and I knew that, but I was so worked up and she was so turned on… I just needed to be inside her. It wasn’t until I was done and I untied her that I saw that she was really hurt. Her rear was raw and red, to the point where I took her to the doctor to make sure that she was okay. He prescribed her some ointments and said she would be fine, but recommended we take it easy for the next week or so.

 

I apologized to Sandra, but she told me that it was better than anything she’d ever had before. She wanted me to hurt her like that all the time. She said that she wanted me to make her bleed.

 

And that was when I knew it had to be over. Because I considered doing that for her, anything to make her happy. But I’d been so out of control… I hadn’t liked the feeling and I definitely hadn’t liked finding out that I’d seriously hurt her.

 

It didn’t matter that she would recover. It only mattered that I now knew she wouldn’t tell me if I was going too far. She wouldn’t stop me.

 

And I just couldn’t be okay with that.

 

We broke up within a month after that. I told her to get help; I was sure she didn’t.

 

I stayed on the roof for a long time. Long enough that the sun was mostly down, that lingering sliver setting the entire city on fire. It was beautiful, but I didn’t give a shit. It was hard to care about things like sunsets when there was so much pain in my chest.

 

I didn’t want Allison to go. Now that she was gone, probably already having reached her apartment, I could admit that to myself. There was no more danger that if I honestly confessed how I felt about her, I would be too tempted to let her stay. To ask her to stay. And not just for a weekend, but for the rest of our lives.

 

A small chuckle escaped me at the thought. “When did you get so mushy?” I asked the empty rooftop.

 

I’d still want to be here.

 

She said that like she meant it. She hadn’t denied her need for the money, but she still insisted that she wanted to be with me despite it. That had been the catalyst which brought us together, but it wasn’t the reason we were.

 

But that wasn’t really the point. I already knew that. I could feel it in the way she moved, the way she responded to me – both as I gave her commands and as I pleasured her naked body.

 

God, she was beautiful. Perfectly proportioned with those lovely womanly curves. And she had the silkiest damn skin I’d ever felt. Smooth and pale with dusky pink nipples and that same shade in her pussy. How could a man resist something like that?

 

But it didn’t matter how much she wanted to be here or how much I wanted her delectable body. In the end, I had to send her away for her own damn protection.

 

I think you’re scared. I’m scared, too. All of this is so new. But I know that I want this. I want you.

 

She said things like she knew me. Like she could look into my heart and just know what I was thinking. It was terrifying and amazing all at once. I felt as though I was the one naked, not her, and she could see all of me for what I really was. The good, the bad, the ugly. The things I might try to hide, she looked straight into.

 

Her words made my heart pound against my ribs, trying to get out of my chest. Like maybe it could go after her, when I clearly wouldn’t. But it remained firmly beneath my breast, hidden away for safe keeping.

 

Except that Allison had already wormed her way into it, infected everything there. She could see inside me, because she was inside me. She lived there, in my heart, whether I wanted her to or not.

 

And she was right. I was scared. But maybe not for the reasons she thought.

 

She didn’t understand what I’d been through with Sandra. Sandra who had been so naturally submissive, just like Allison. Sandra who’d enjoyed the pleasures and the punishments, just like Allison. Sandra who had wanted this lifestyle, just like Allison.

 

The parallels were there, right before my eyes, and yes, I was afraid. I was terrified that I would welcome Allison into my life and we would fall the same way that Sandra and I had.

 

I’m afraid that I’ll hurt her, I thought.

 

I didn’t blame Allison for fighting to stay. If anything, I thought it was admirable – and incredibly sexy. I wanted her to be with me as much as she seemed to want to be with me, but she didn’t understand the dangers like I did. She didn’t understand that there was every possibility that we could go too far. I could hurt her without even meaning to. She couldn’t possibly know that what I was afraid of was hurting her just like I’d hurt Sandra.

 

“How could she know?” I said aloud to the darkening sky.

 

And that was when it finally occurred to me. Of course, she couldn’t know the risks involved or why I was afraid – because I hadn’t told her.

 

When Allison first walked into my life, I’d explained a little bit about the Dom/sub relationship. I’d told her that it was a strange dynamic of power and control, of give and take. On the surface, it appeared as though the Dom was the one who held all the power. He gave the orders, made the sub do things, or did things to the sub. In a lot of ways, the sub was like a pet to the Dom, being called when he wanted her and sent away when he didn’t. Given chores, and rules, and clothing or collars to wear.

 

A lot of people thought that was exactly what it was like to be in a Dom/sub relationship, but they didn’t understand.

 

It wasn’t about giving a sub orders, it was about taking care of her. A Dom’s first and biggest job was to do what was right by the sub. If she was uncomfortable with something, then things had to change. If she was unhappy, then things had to change. If she wasn’t getting what she needed from the relationship, then things had to change. It was all about what she needed, not what I wanted, though I obviously got that, too. Instead, I took the control away from her, because she wanted me to. So she didn’t have to worry about it. And in return I provided her with all the love and care that I could.

 

The people who hurt their subs didn’t know the first thing about being Doms and when I’d done that to Sandra, I’d gotten out of the game. If I couldn’t do right by her, then I didn’t deserve her. That had been hard, but necessary. But it could never be permanent. I couldn’t live a life of vanilla sex. Of missionary positions. Of the kinkiest thing in bed nothing more than giving a hickey. I’d always known that, but I’d never expected someone like Allison to waltz into my life all of a sudden, everything I’d ever wanted just plopped into my lap all at once like that.

 

But she had and she was right, I was running scared.

 

She’d caught onto that, but missed the why, and that was my fault. I was supposed to take care of her, but I couldn’t do that if she didn’t understand what was going on. Because that was the control part of the relationship that no one seemed to understand.

 

I didn’t have the control; she did.

 

If she ever wanted me to stop, I had to stop. If she didn’t like something, I would change it. That was the whole point, but how could she be in control if she didn’t have all the information?

 

“I’m an idiot.”

 

Shaking my head, I shoved off from the wall and headed toward the fire escape to go back inside.

 

I needed to do two things or I’d never forgive myself. First, I needed to tell Allison the truth. That I wanted her here, but was terrified that I might hurt her. Second, I needed to beg her on my hands and knees to take me back, because I wasn’t sure I could live without her now.

 

Climbing down the fire escape, I reached the second floor and ducked in. I ran into the room and grabbed my keys, before coming to a complete stop.

 

“Shit. I don’t know where she lives.”

 

We exchanged emails, numbers, and met at a coffee shop, but I’d never been to her place. And I hadn’t even been planning on taking her to mine. Originally, the plan had been to go to a hotel and have a good time there, that way no one felt as though they were in a bind. Neither party had too much personal information about the other.

 

Obviously, that had changed dramatically, given that I’d decided to take her to my place. Now, that was a serious problem because I didn’t know where she was.

 

I grabbed my phone and tried calling her. When she didn’t pick up, I tried a text message, but was too impatient to wait for her to respond. I told myself that I was being irrational. She’d see the message sometime and get back to me, but I needed to be with her right now. I needed to explain myself. I felt like it was my only shot at getting her back.

 

I headed to the guest room that I’d let her use. Not that she’d spent any time in it, but she had left her stuff there. I was hopeful that maybe she’d also left behind something identifying. A parking ticket, an ID or service card or anything. Something that might have her address on it. It was a long shot, but I was feeling pretty desperate.

 

The room looked almost exactly as I’d left it. The bed was made, never used by her. The bathroom was the same. She’d never unpacked, as far as I could tell, and that didn’t do me any favors this time. It meant that the chances of her having left something behind or dropping it were pretty damn slim.

 

Still, I tore the place apart. I ripped off the bedding and looked through every cupboard and drawer in the bathroom. I checked the dresser and the closet, even though I doubt she’d even so much as looked in either. I got down on my hands and knees and checked under the bed, but there was nothing there. Not even dust bunnies.

 

Damnit!

 

How the hell was I supposed to find her if she didn’t leave anything behind?

 

I was about to give up on her leaving anything for me to trace behind when I remembered that on our first night, I’d had her undress.

 

“I take care of my subs. Now strip,” I commanded her, settling back to watch as she undressed herself before my very eyes. Excitement rolled through me like an electrical current. I was a live wire, filled with passion and need both, their power making me almost shake.

 

She was practically trembling, but she didn’t hesitate to obey me. She reached for her blouse. I’d had to make her wait so that I could sit and get more comfortable. I didn’t want to miss a minute of this. I told her to go slow, “I want time to take in every part of you,” and I meant it. I didn’t want a single part of her to go unseen by my hungry gaze.

 

Her skin flushed a lovely red, a blush that I was growing to enjoy intensely. She was so pale for the most part, but that blush brought her to light.

 

She reached for her shirt again, dragging it up her body. The fabric was a bright blue fabric that was maybe not her color, but looked good on her none the less. Just not as good as it did coming off her.

 

The candles flickered and I drew my eyes over her skin as she slowly pulled her shirt off. Her bra was lacey and black, encasing her perfect, large breasts until they looked like they were ready to spill out over the edges. I loved every part of her as soon as I saw it. When she was about to toss her shirt onto the floor, I stopped her.

 

“No. Fold it neatly and place it on the edge of the sink.”

 

She bit her lip, eyes wide, but she nodded. She folded it up as I instructed…

 

The memory was visceral, tearing through me with a mixture of pain and pleasure that was unreal. Just the memory of her naked body had my cock coming to life and it was only the knowledge that I might never get the chance to see it again that made me ignore it. Instead, I raced to the main upstairs bathroom in the hopes that she might have forgotten something. That she might have left her clothes – and maybe something in her pockets – behind.

 

As I pushed the door open, I was steeling myself for disappointment. I’d told Allison to clean up where we’d made a mess, and that included this bathroom. She’d followed my orders so well, I was sure that—

 

I froze.

 

There, sitting on the edge of the counter just as she’d left them, were her clothes. Pants, shirt, and bra were all folded up neatly on the edge of the sink. The panties I’d kept for myself, just in case I needed to take care of raging hard-ons like the one that was trying to rise right now.

 

I laughed at the sight of her clothes.

 

“Jesus, I’ve never been so happy to have a woman disobey,” I said aloud, a smile on my face.

 

I hurried over to her clothes and began digging through them. In the back of my head, I promised myself that if I could find her, I’d both punish and please Allison for this. Punishment for disobeying – or forgetting, more like – and pleasure for leaving me this one stack of cloth hope.

 

Unfortunately, that hope was quickly dashed.

 

Her pockets were empty and they were clearly too small to hold anything of value anyway. Probably she couldn’t even fit her damn phone in there.

 

“Shit,” I cursed, throwing the garments to the floor.

 

I ran my hands through my hair. I had to find her. I was desperate. If I didn’t find her today, I worried that I never would again, and that just wouldn’t work. Sure, I had her number and I had her email, but what if she just blocked me? What if I’d hurt her so badly today that she never even read the messages I might send?

 

No, I couldn’t risk it. I had to find her now.

 

So I did the only thing I knew to do: I called Leo.

 

“I need a favor.”

 

“What’s going on?”

 

“I need you to find someone for me. A woman.”

 

I heard him chuckle through the line. “Ah, at last. I knew you’d weaken eventually. So what should I get for you? A brunette? A blonde, maybe? Or do we want to go a little more colorful? Maybe some streaks of blue or—”

 

“Shut up,” I ordered, in no mood to joke around. This was important. “It’s a specific woman. Her name is Allison Gilson. I need to find her. Now.”