Page 101 of The Dom with a Safeword

The decor was Spartan. There was no pretence of normalcy once you passed the kitchen. In the living room, a huge double St. Andrew’s cross was bolted to the wall. The coffee table had built-in restraints. Cuffs dangled from ropes that were O-ringed to the ceiling, along with some other things that Q couldn’t identify. With no neighbors close by, there was no one to hear her scream. A loud instinct screamed to get out while she still could. Lee went to the kitchen and made that pesky instinct another drink. It was quiet after that.

She wobbled a bit as he hooked her into some O-ring cuffs and adjusted the rope length so she could stand flatfooted. More cuffs went around her ankles, and were clipped to another ring recessed into the floor. She hadn’t noticed the floor rings at first. Even with the booze-goggles on, she was happy she didn’t have to have sex with him. He wasn’t bad, but compared to Jude’s angelic countenance, Lee was a bit of a troll.

They had a short conversation about what toys she was willing to try. It was about as intimate as telling the guy at the pizza place what toppings she wanted. Lee seemed to care about as much.

He began. A beating from someone who didn’t care about her wasn’t the same – like masturbation versus sex. He slid needles under her skin. She had to remind herself that she’d agreed to try it. Maybe it was different with someone you trusted? Subspace found her eventually, despite their lack of connection, and the relationship became all about her and the flogger, with Lee becoming incidental. She lost all sense of time, only vaguely aware when he switched to the crop. It pulled scream after scream from her, until she felt empty.

Pain changed and ramped up. The cane and single-tail vied for her attention. Her comfortable haze abandoned her. She hung from her wrists, hands numb. Shoulders ached. He was saying cruel things to her. Skin was fire. Whore. Blows stopped waiting for her, and she couldn’t process the pain. You deserve to suffer. Agony rained down. “Red! Red! Red!” she screamed. Did the words come? It didn’t stop. Red ran through her head, but she didn’t know if it came out of her mouth. You’re a waste of flesh. Did only she hear red? But red was universal. Red worked everywhere. He didn’t understand her? He didn’t care. She was going to die here. She stopped screaming. She didn’t care either.

Chapter 19

Sabrina

Sabrina grinned, staring at the email message on the computer screen. The photo of the apparition from Jude’s house was a finalist in a photo contest. A professional paranormal investigating organization wanted to buy her photo. Two hundred dollars! She couldn’t hold back a little squeal. Q would be psyched. And Jude would –

Her grin faded. It’d been two months. Why was she still thinking of him as if he was still here? Even Q – who was technically living with her, wasn’t really here.

Her gaze fell to the photo in the cheap colorful frame on the desk. She’d left it next to the computer despite Q’s protests. She’d hoped it would make her smile – the three of them making goofy faces at the camera – but more often than not, it made her cry. Especially when Q had started pulling away in earnest.

And Jude…he didn’t answer her emails. Yeah, the experiment was over but she’d hoped they could at least remain friends. He hadn’t replied to a single one, even when she’d attached photos that he’d asked for before he’d left. She wanted to hate him, to yell at him, but she dissolved into tears before the words became clear in her head.

Every little thing reminded her of him. Half the time his fucking song was stuck in her head. The alert on online chat reminded her of conversations between him and Q. Even her solace, her special place at the beach wasn’t safe. All she saw was Jude carrying her over his shoulder into the waves and feeding strawberries to Q on a blanket. Small moments – snippets of a different time and place. People who’d changed, drifted in and out of her life.

But Q. She was supposed to stay. Forever. She hadn’t been eating much, despite Sabrina cooking her favorites and bugging her every night. She’d barely even been home this past week.

She’d randomly dyed her hair blue – not so unusual for Q. But then she’d gone out and pierced almost every spot on her face – and who knew where else. She shuddered. When Sabrina tried to engage her, she pulled away. She ignored her texts. She acted gruff and uninterested when they were in the same room. But then, when she thought Sabrina wasn’t looking, she’d gaze at her with a longing expression. It broke her heart and made her angry all at once.

Q had promised they’d stay friends after the experiment, no matter what happened. Damn her for going back on her word. But then, Sabrina was having a hard time with that herself. She had to fight the impulse to wrap her arms around Q from behind when she made her coffee in the morning, kiss her pouty lips when she looked sad, ask her to cuddle on the couch and watch a favorite movie. But nobody did those kinds of things with platonic friends. Were they even that anymore? One thing was for sure – her best friend and favorite person in the world was slowly slipping away. And the only person she might have turned to for help was gone. Jude.

Not for the first time in the last few days, tears ran down her cheeks. Ridiculous! She’d just gotten great news and she was crying!

“Look what you’ve done to me, Q.” She cursed her out loud.

If things were different…if her family were more accepting…they’d probably be sitting on the couch, giggling and cuddling right now. If life were simpler, she’d follow her heart. She’d happily live in her own little world with Q, oblivious to the judgment and scathing looks around her.

The summer had been the best time of her life. Was it worth it – giving that up to do what was proper according to her family? Even if it meant she suffered? Where was the trade off? She’d sacrificed Q, now where was her prince charming and house and 2.5 kids and perfect, normal life?

Normal, suddenly seemed highly overrated.

What she really wanted was her unconventional, odd, sometimes stubborn, often sweet, sexy girlfriend. What she really wanted was Q – in her arms, laughing at her silly jokes, kissing her after a bad day, standing over her with a crop in her hand. And her prince charming? Well, he came in the form of a good-humored, blond Dom with a thing for turning old houses into kinky, well-decorated dungeons. She craved his hand in her hair when giving gruff commands, the gleam in his eye when he’d caught her being naughty, his beer-flavored kisses, his laughter booming off the empty walls of the house.

More tears fell. The best time of her life had passed in only a summer. It wasn’t fair.

But neither was famine or slavery or war or way worse predicaments than hers. Nobody got what they wanted in life without big sacrifices.

Her phone rang. The name Ivy flashed across the screen. Q’s kinky goth friend? What did she want?

“Hello?”

“Sabrina? This is Q’s friend, Ivy.” They had talked a few times just after Nico had kicked Q to the curb. She seemed to know more about how Q was feeling then than Sabrina had. More recently she’d learned it was because Q had been keeping her kink life in the closet. “Is Q home yet? She was supposed to call me and she hasn’t been answering her phone.”

“No.” She glanced at the time. Midnight wasn’t late for Q, but Ivy sounded alarmed. “Why? What’s wrong?”

She hesitated then blurted, “I knew I should’ve have let her go with him. I’m so sorry. God, if anything happens to her I’ll just die!”

“Whoa! Slow down.” Her heart started to race. “Where is she?”

After an audible breath, she told her Q had gone to play at a private residence with a stranger who had a bad reputation.