Saving Graves: A Club Irons Novel

by Drew Sera

  “Anthony, I’m going to keep the impact central to your upper back. I want to steer clear of your lower back.”

  I nodded and waited.

  Thwap! Thwap! Thwap!

  After a while, I felt what I was hoping to feel; the rush of endorphins racing through my system. As I walked out of the club, I was able to do something that I hadn’t done in a long time…take a deep breath without my chest aching.

  It was Saturday night and I was sizing up the lovely beauties before me. I hadn’t played with Deanna before and thought tonight would be the night. She was a tall, slender girl with auburn hair. I knew she was one of the older subs of Irons, but I no longer felt inexperienced with these women.

  I made eye contact with Deanna and then motioned with my finger for her to come over to me. She eagerly came over and stood in front of me. Her blue leather corset gave off a playful vibe and her thong panties just begged for me to get into.

  “I’m interested in some light bondage tonight, Deanna. Perhaps using the crop. Does that interest you?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Excellent, follow me.”

  In our dungeon stall, I went through my routine with her by asking her safe word, hard limits, and if she had any injuries or places that I needed to avoid. I leaned her back against a beam that went from the floor to ceiling. There were various points on the wood beam where rope or chains could be used.

  Quickly I strung a few lengths of rope through the eyelet above her head and then guided her arms up. I did a quick, simple figure eight tie to secure her wrists. I tugged on the snaps of her corset, freeing her tits. Her skin was sun-kissed, and her nipples were a dusty shade of pink.

  I lowered my head and laved at her nipples before tugging on them with my teeth. She moaned and hissed. Fuck, I hadn’t even done anything really but play with her tits. Pulling her panties to the side, I reached up and swiped my finger tip down the length of her slit.

  “Oh, yes! Please, Sir!”

  She was already begging. I guided her feet to step out of her panties, and I went to get a crop from the wall of implements. When I returned to her, I walked behind her and slapped her ass and the backs of her thighs with the crop. She made some moans and whimpers. Normally I found these noises kind of sexy, but tonight I just wasn’t fully in the mood.

  I really should have just had one of the subs suck me off and then call it an evening. But now I was deep in a scene and needed to be responsible and finish it correctly.

  Standing to her side, I pushed three fingers into her soaked pussy and began to fuck her with my fingers while I used the crop on her ass. While she moaned and tried moving around, I lowered my head took her earlobe between my teeth. This seemed to drive her wild, and she began to try and grind against my hand. I spanked her pretty hard with the crop.

  “Did I say that you could grind against my hand?”

  Immediately she stopped.

  “No, Sir.”

  I needed to let this girl get me off so I could return the favor and then call it a night.

  “I’m going to untie you, and I’d like for you to go to the floor immediately and suck my cock.”

  “Yes, Sir,” Deanna said in a sultry tone.

  I didn’t prolong anything or tease the girl anymore. I just let her go at her pace and then blew my load. I carried her to the metal table that was in the dungeon cell, parted her legs and ate her pussy until I was hard again. I quickly rolled on a condom and fucked the girl until she came. I could feel her eyes on me as she came, but I kept my eyes focused on my cock moving in and out of her pussy.

  I sat with her afterward in the dungeon cell until she said she was fine and was ready to leave. She thanked me for a fun time and I simply nodded as she left.

  I pulled on my t-shirt and headed out of the dungeon cell toward the stairs when fucking Paul’s voice caught me by surprise.

  “How’s it going, Graves?”

  “Fine.”

  “You look tired, Graves.” He said, but I kept walking. “Still miss, daddy?”

  Though I slowed my pace climbing the stairs, I didn’t stop, and I didn’t look back. By the time I reached the bar and sat down, my chest was starting to ache again with the same fucking feeling that I had before my visit to San Francisco. God dammit.

  A week had gone by and the ache in my chest was back at full strength. I tried occupying my time at the gym, with no relief and I even started swimming. I found that I had endless energy to go the length of the lap pool for long periods of time without stopping. All week I was swimming until late in the evening. My muscles were working overtime, and I’d walk to my truck with shaking legs.

  I hoped that by the time I got home, I’d be so exhausted that I’d sleep all through the night.

  It hadn’t worked at all yet. I was just dead tired but kept waking up. Guilt occupied my mind most of my waking hours and figured that I needed to find something to keep my mind busy through the day. I had a business degree from UC Berkeley that I should try to do something with it. Especially since my dad footed the bill for that. I still can’t believe he did that. He was supposed to use the money from the settlement.

  I spent three days filling out applications, and every single one of them asked for an emergency contact. And every fucking time I got to that part, my heart hurt. This fucking shit was killing me. I’m never, ever getting involved with anyone. I can’t go through this again.

  I was starting to get call backs from potential employers and was booked up all next week for interviews. Since that was coming up next week and considering how shitty I was feeling, I decided to book another session with Keith. I made the appointment and booked the same day flight to and from San Francisco.

  Blake and I met for lunch the day before my brief trip to San Francisco.

  “How many interviews do you have next week?” he asked me while we waited for our food.

  “Fifteen.”

  “Wow, that’s a lot. Is there one you like the most?”

  “No, I just need something. I have a degree and am doing nothing with it currently.”

  “Don’t feel bad, Anthony. A young man’s twenties are spent trying to figure things out and then you blink, and they’re behind you.”

  “I owe it to my dad to get a job using the degree he paid an arm and a leg for. Besides—” I paused to take a sip of Coke. “I’m getting bored during the day.”

  Blake laughed and nodded.

  “Sounds like a young man fresh out of college. The right job will come along.”

  I hoped he was right.

  “Blake, I hope it’s ok, but I’ve been listing you as my emergency contact on the job applications.” I looked down and shook the ice in my glass. “They all ask for an emergency contact, and I don’t have—”

  “Yes, you do,” Blake said and smiled at me.

  I was kind of confused, and I think he picked up on it.

  “You were going to say that you don’t have anyone for the emergency contact. You do. You have me. A mentor is more than someone who guides you and answers your questions. I am first and foremost your friend, Anthony.”

  “Thank you, Blake.”

  “Afternoon, Anthony. Same as last time?” Keith asked as we headed down the hall.

  “Yeah.”

  Once we were in the room we used last time, I saved him from the conversation and confirmed the same safe word, to avoid belts and bare hands, and to avoid my side scar. It’s been flaring up on me a lot lately. I pulled my shirt off and took hold of the rope that dangling from the ceiling.

  The last time was such a great experience for me and I’m just hoping the effects of it last longer this time. But again, it was easing a pain that I couldn’t make go away.

  “You’re such a baby, Anthony,” Bruce said as he tied my arms around the beam in the garage.

  “I’m not a baby!” I yelled back out of anger. I was six and in school.

  Bruce slapped my face and ear while he pressed my head against the beam.


  “You are a baby! Your teacher called and said you had another accident. Babies do that, Anthony. Do you want us to send you to school in diapers?”

  “No!” I cried out and earned another slap on the face.

  “See, you’re crying now, just like a baby. Now shut up and take your punishment like a man. Show me you’re not a baby, you little shit.”

  I wiped my tears with my upper arm and hugged the beam. I leaned my face against the side of the beam as Bruce pulled my pants down. I bit my lower lip and didn’t make a noise as the belt smacked against my skin.

  “Anthony,” Bruce said.

  I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of replying though.

  “Anthony,” Keith said and I blinked a few times to focus.

  Oh fuck. I zoned out and had a flashback. Fuck, I needed away.

  “Anthony, what color?”

  What color?

  Keith had been trying to get my attention, but I was too far into the beating with Bruce. Keith was now standing in front of me and looked concerned. I lowered my arms and nodded.

  “Um, I think I’m good for today,” I said.

  “Let’s go get something to drink, Anthony.”

  I nodded, pulled my shirt on and followed him back down the hall to the main room. We went to the small bar, and I got a Coke.

  “You stopped responding to me, and I had been calling your name a few times.”

  “Sorry about that. I sort of got caught up in it. I’m ok though.”

  Keith was quiet for a few minutes and then asked if I needed any lotion for my back. I shook my head and told him that I was fine. He reiterated that he’d have one of the girls rub it on my back and that he wouldn’t. I still shook him off and glanced at my watch. I needed to get going and head to the airport.

  “I need to get going. Have to catch a flight in less than two hours. And you know how traffic is here.”

  “Alright, man. Take care,” Keith said and we shook hands.

  As I rode in the back seat of the cab to the airport, I noticed that while my head was foggy with pieces of Bruce, my chest didn’t hurt. I took a deep breath and didn’t detect the ache.

  All was well. The bruises and ache in my back would go away in a day or so. I hoped the ache in my chest and lump in my throat would stay at bay longer.

  I got a job at an accounting firm shadowing the CPA’s. It kept my mind busy during the day, and I kept my evenings busy with swimming and working out. Unfortunately, after doing everything that I thought I needed to be doing, I was still waking up a few times a week. My football had moved back to my bedroom with me and sat on the nightstand. I stupidly told myself things, like my dad was here with me, watching over me.

  The ache in my chest had returned, and now that I had a full-time job, I couldn’t fly to San Francisco during the day and come home that night. So now I was flying out Sunday nights after the football games at Blake’s and flying home in the dead of night. When I’d get home, sometimes it was going on six in the morning. I’d have time for a shower and to get ready for work.

  I knew I couldn’t keep this up for long. I didn’t understand why the ache wouldn’t stay away permanently. It was starting to wear on me some. Not only were the sessions tiring, but sometimes it sent me into flashbacks, which I didn’t want. And I also began to see how this was possibly becoming what Mark warned about happening…I now was needing it harder and longer than the first time to get the same effect.

  I just knew I needed that pain to go the fuck away.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  November 1996

  I was naked and held face down on the kitchen table as the belt continued to punish my flesh as my legs hung over the edge of the table. Bruce and Connor took turns hitting me or holding me down. And my mother watched and laughed.

  I had gotten so good at control and locking down tears that they rarely got to see them anymore. I didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing me hurt.

  My mom was perched on the kitchen counter, eating a TV dinner, watching the show that Bruce and Connor were giving her.

  “He’s not crying! Make him cry, Bruce!”

  My drunk mother barked out her command and flung a spoon of potatoes at me. Bruce and Conner had been hitting me for a while, mostly on my back, ass and the backs of my legs as they hung over the edge of the table.

  “You want to hear him cry?” Bruce slurred through his drunken state.

  Fuck. Please don’t let them hurt me back there. I began to panic because that was something that I hated and struggled with containing the rage. Suddenly, I felt the end of the belt being slapped against my balls and dick. It went on and on. I adjusted my head, so my forehead rested on the table. I didn’t want them to see me cry.

  And when I could hold it in no longer, a sob tore from my chest that I had been holding in for the evening. Laughter by the three people I hated, filled the kitchen.

  “Now it’s time for the cunt,” Connor said, and he and Bruce went toward my mom.

  “No Connor! Not tonight!” my mom warned them.

  I pushed myself off the table and tried to stand as I watched the three of them struggle. They were all drunk.

  “Ok, ok…” Connor slurred and stumbled. “No pussy fucking tonight, but you’ve got to suck some cocks.”

  I felt lightheaded and fell on the floor, crashing into the chairs. My balls hurt so bad. I can’t live here anymore. I lingered in and out for a while and woke up to the unmistakable feeling of a cigarette being held over my stomach.

  Connor’s hand covered my mouth tightly preventing me from making any noise, but I squirmed and writhed around trying desperately to get away from Bruce’s hand. My leg smacked into something, and then I felt another hand slap my balls. I looked down and saw my mom.

  Bruce and Connor laughed at my semi-hard dick while they held me down again and all of them took turns slapping it. Eventually, the novelty wore off, and they all went to their room. I locked myself in the bathroom for a while and began devising my plan of how to get out of here.

  “Anthony,” Keith repeated my name.

  Fuck me, I can’t keep doing this.

  “Sorry, we’re good.”

  I could feel his eyes on me as I pulled on my shirt.

  “Anthony, you get very immersed in these sessions.”

  “I know. I’m just concentrating.”

  “Maybe you should take some time away from it for a while.”

  “No, I need it. It’s good for me.”

  “I’m not so sure,” Keith said.

  I turned to walk out of the room and saw Mistress Lynn standing there watching. I flashed her my smile and headed to the bar for a Coke. She was following me and sat down beside me.

  “What are you doing, Anthony?” she asked.

  “Nothing. Isn’t it common for Doms to have sessions every now and then?” I asked her.

  “Yes, every now and then. But you’re doing this weekly now. You’re running from Irons to this club for something.”

  “I’m not running, Lynn.”

  “Anthony, you belong to the most elite club in the country. And you’re jumping on flights to come here each week. What aren’t you getting over there that you think you need?”

  I guzzled the rest of my Coke and stood.

  “Good seeing you again, Lynn.”

  I patted her shoulder and made my way to the airport. I needed to find another way to make this ache go away. It was back by the time I sat down on the plane. It was coming back quicker than before. Was I destined always to ache?

  While on the plane, I regrettably allowed my mind to continue with what I had been thinking of during the session with Keith.

  I made it through school the next day but felt sick. My balls and dick hurt and I could barely stand looking at the bruising, let alone touch it. And I was hungry. It was Friday, which meant that the next time I’d eat most likely would be Monday when I got to school and grabbed food that some kids didn’t want.
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br />   I couldn’t live like this anymore.

  By the end of the day, my balls were so swollen that it hurt to walk. I had copied down a youth help organization address from the bulletin board in the school counselor’s hallway. After school, I went to the pay phone and called the number. Luckily, I didn’t have to talk to anyone because they had their directions on the voice recording.

  I made my way to the building and went inside.

  “Hi, welcome. What’s your name?” the lady behind the desk stood to greet me.

  “Anthony.”

  “Come on in, Anthony. Do you have a jacket? It’s very cold outside.”

  I shook my head and followed her down a hall to a room with a desk. I sat down in front of it, and she pulled out a file folder.

  “How old are you, Anthony?”

  “Thirteen.”

  “Seventh grade?”

  “Yes.”

  She started asking me a bunch of questions and I couldn’t answer any of them. I was too scared.

  “I’m sorry. I think I’m in the wrong place. I was just looking for some food.”

  She took me to another room, and from a huge refrigerator she handed me a lunch bag and offered me my choice of juices.

  “You’re free to stay if you’d like Anthony.”

  “I was just hungry.”

  “Is food scarce at home?”

  It was scarce for me. Bruce and my mom seemed to do ok.

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “What school do you attend? I can contact the school and we can make sure that you receive a warm breakfast and lunch each day. There are a lot of kids who have this.”

  “What does it cost?”

  “Nothing, sweetie. It’s a program for those in need.”

  It sounded great, but if Connor caught wind of that, I’d be beaten. It wasn’t worth a warm breakfast or lunch.

  I shook my head, and the lady left me alone to eat. I dumped the contents out on the table and stared at my treasure. There was a Lunchable, packaged crackers, chips and apple and a banana. Quickly I planned. The Lunchable needed refrigeration, so I couldn’t take that home. I’d eat that here and the juice. The rest of the stuff I could hide in my backpack.