Our First Dance

by P Nelson

  Arranging himself on the covers of the bed, he lifted Calla once again into his arms and let her head fall against his chest. Leaning back on the multitude of pillows set against the headboard of the bed, Flynn stared up at the ceiling. For the first time in a very long time, he felt like a Dom again. He took a moment to acknowledge that his ex-wife Melanie had taken something important from him when she pretended to be the perfect submissive. Melanie had robbed him of experiencing the true meaning of the power exchange, and for the first time, he hated her for it.

  Calla snuggled farther into his chest, rubbing her nose on his sweaty, cooling skin. Flynn never cuddled with the subs he played with, but the welcome weight of Calla in his arms was oddly perfect. In fact, if they both didn’t have to be at work in the morning, Flynn would have suggested they spend the night here. He wanted to wake up next to her. Watch her smile as she realised that he was here with her. The picture was so poignant that he had to look up at the ceiling again. Calla was turning him into a pussy Dom.

  “What time is it?” Calla rubbed her hands up and down Flynn’s back a few times.

  “Too late for what you’re thinking, little girl. We’d better get you showered and dressed.” Flynn inwardly protested the thought of walking Calla up to her condo door and leaving for the night. He was losing all his hard-won discipline. “And I don’t think your poor ass can handle any more discipline.” He swept a hand over her red cheeks and felt her shiver in his arms.

  “No, Master.” Calla turned her head and rested her forehead on his chest. “No more spankings, I really couldn’t survive it.”

  “Let’s get into the shower and then I will rub some cream onto your poor abused bottom.” Flynn shifted and set Calla down beside him, and she winced. He smiled back at her frown. “Disciplinary spankings are much harder than funishment ones. You now know the difference.”

  “Yes, Master.” Calla whispered and lowered her lashes. She stared up at him with a look of hunger and hope. Flynn felt his cock start to come awake again. Shaking a finger in her face, he said, “No, little girl, you have had enough for one night. Up and into the bathroom.” Calla stuck her bottom lip out and rolled over to the edge of the bed. For a moment, Flynn admired the way her red ass stood out on her pale skin while the designs he made on her calves and forearms matched. She looked perfect and too fuckable for his liking.

  Lying back onto the bed, he started to count down from twenty while out of the corner of his eye, Calla gingerly went into the bathroom. He needed to really concentrate to get his dick under control, or Calla wasn’t going to get home any time soon.

  &

  “Thanks for making a house visit, doc.” Dillon ushered Calla into his warehouse loft space in Yaletown. It was a large space with warm brick walls and steel beams; the entire area was open except for a bathroom she could see in the back. Dillon’s space looked like a dungeon with BDSM equipment set up around the comfy sitting room, bedroom, and kitchen and dining area.

  “No problem, with all the attention on you right now I can understand why you wouldn’t want to be seen walking into a psychologist’s office.” Calla sat down on one of the grey sofas and set her briefcase on the floor next to her.

  “Do you want a coffee? Tea? I could use a vodka”, Dillon joked as he waited for her answer.

  “Coffee is fine”, Calla replied and did her best to make him feel at ease. For a well-known BDSM porn star, Dillon’s body language was screaming I am not in control, which was precisely why she was here. “You have a really great place”, She commented hoping to get into some familiar territory.

  Dillon looked at her and then around at his loft as if he had never seen it before, Calla watched him blink and focus. “I bought it before the area became a mecca for hipsters.” He walked into the open kitchen, and Calla watched as he grabbed a pod for his machine. “Back then, the street was filled with druggies and working girls. Now it’s bearded dudes trying to push their organic wheat germ in you. I’m not sure which is worse.” He pulled the lever and pushed a button; the noise from the machine made conversation impossible for a minute. “You take milk and sugar?”

  “Just a bit of milk.” Calla watched as he made another coffee and put some milk in hers.

  “Mind if I ask you a personal question?” Dillon set Calla’s coffee down in front of her and sat down on the matching grey sofa opposite to her.

  “Only if you understand that I may or may not answer.” Calla studied Dillon as she picked up her coffee. “Thank you.” She indicated the mug.

  “Are you here because you want to get in with Flynn further or because you’re the new shrink at The Cage?” He stared at her, and Calla had the feeling he was weighing and analysing every move she made. Dillon knew women very well; it was the most important part of his job, and she wondered what he saw in her.

  “I’m here in a professional capacity that has nothing to do with Mr Banroch.” Calla was telling the truth. Her opinion of Dillon had changed since meeting him, and she said, “I think I can help you.”

  Dillon appeared to accept her answer as he sat back. “Flynn and Gaige told me that all I needed to do was get back on stage, and everything would fall back into place.” He rubbed a hand over his features, pressing his fingers into his eyes. Calla relaxed and felt her professional demeanour take over. Dillon was no longer a Dom, and she was no longer a sub, nervous about being in his space. She was a doctor, and he was a patient.

  “And how did getting back up on stage and performing a scene make you feel?” Calla asked. The question made Dillon lower his hand and stare at her for a minute. It looked as if he was struggling with something. Calla waited. She knew this would be a moment of truth for both of him. Dillon had to want her help, and Calla needed to know how to go about doing it. She reached down into her bag and pulled out a pen and her notebook.

  “It was all wrong.” Dillon’s face fell. “I mean Arianna was wonderful as always. We’ve played together before. I just mean that for me the whole exchange held nothing in it. Normally, I really get into the sub’s head, and we have fun, but the other night I only felt empty.” Dillon looked up at the ceiling. “I’m a broken Dom, and I’m turning into a pussy.”

  “Why do you think you’re broken?” Calla focused on her notes giving him plenty of time to respond.

  “Because I used to love to fuck. I would wake up in the morning wanting to fuck, spend my days looking for girls to fuck and my nights balls deep in chicks.” Dillon made no apologies for being crude, and Calla guessed this was a test. If she ran out of his loft now, then he wouldn’t have to open up to her. Calla merely glanced up from her notepad and waited expectantly. Dillon appeared surprised for a moment. “Now, all I want to do is keep my clothes on and not go out.”

  “This is not an unusual response for someone who has suffered a traumatic event”, Calla offered.

  “I haven’t experienced a traumatic event. My ex-sub has accused me of abusing her. She’s the one who suffered with my violent behaviour for years. I’m just an asshole.” His voice had turned bitter.

  “Whether or not you’re an asshole has no bearing on this discussion”, Calla informed him. He looked over at her. “Obviously, there were serious problems in your relationship that had nothing to do with sex and submission. That is what we’re going to work on together. For now, I want you to make a few promises to me.” Calla held Dillon’s gaze as he contemplated her. He used the same phrase as she had earlier when he wanted to ask her a personal question.

  “You can ask, but I might not be able to keep them.” Dillon gave her a small smile.

  “First, I know your friends only have your best interests at heart, but I don’t think you need to jump into anything right away. Part of the process of dealing with an emotionally traumatising event is unravelling it on an emotional level before immersing yourself in the situation again.” Calla finished her explanation. “Do you agree?”

  “Yes.” Dillon looked away from her as he admitted it. “Beside
s the thought of having to get back up on that stage gives me the cold sweats.” He gestured to a pile of papers and folders on the end of the coffee table. “I have offers and scripts to look over, but I can’t even face reading through them.”

  Calla looked at the pile of papers and folders with a frown. “I’m glad you agree. The other thing I want you to do is stop looking at yourself as if you’re either the victim or perpetrator. You have to sort through all your bullshit before you’re ready to put a label on yourself. You have enough people doing that already.”

  “OK, fine.” Dillon shrugged.

  “Not fine, but eventually we’ll get there.” Calla looked at her watch. “I have to get back to the office for another client, but I will make more time for you next week. In the meantime, I want you to go through at least half of these scripts.” Calla reached forward and pulled the top half off and set them in front of Dillon.

  “You don’t have to commit to anything or even tell me if you like any of them, but it’s important for you to at least put a toe back into your world.” Calla smiled as Dillon looked at the pile of papers as if she were suggesting he roll them up and use them as an anal plug. “Just read them and get a feel for what you like and don’t like.”

  “Yeah, ok.” Dillon sat back glumly still eyeing the papers with trepidation.

  “Good. Now I really have to leave.” Calla put her notebook and pen away.

  “So can you cure me, doc?” Dillon asked as he stood up a mocking expression on his handsome face.

  “There’s nothing to cure Dillon. You had a relationship go sour, and unfortunately, it’s shaken your confidence.” Calla was firm in her preliminary diagnosis. “Once you learn to trust yourself again, you’ll trust a sub.”

  He looked stunned by her announcement. Calla only stood up and walked around the coffee table. She reached out and squeezed his arm. “We’re going to get through this together. I’ll see you next week or perhaps before that. No need to walk me out.” Calla turned away from Dillon and made her way to where she parked her car. Dillon would be fine eventually, and Calla would feed her submissive need by getting him to where he needed to go.

  &

  Flynn stared at the reports on his desk and groaned at the amount of work he needed to get through before he could pick Calla up from work. He already had the scene he wanted to play with her planned, but it would require some extra focus for him. Suspension play was not without its hazards, but after last night, Flynn wanted to really push Calla’s limits.

  Glancing at his computer screen, he took a deep breath and sorted out what he wanted to say to his younger brother. They had been close as children and even as young adults, but his divorce from Melanie had put a strain on their relationship. In fact, it had put a strain on his relations with his whole family. Melanie had hinted that Flynn abused her during their marriage, and he hadn’t felt the need to justify his actions. His family should believe he would never mistreat his sexual partners. Unfortunately, they were way too conservative to understand the simple power exchange in a BDSM relationship.

  Flynn glanced at the screen of his phone as it beeped once for a message. He could use the distraction if Calla were on the other end. Frowning, he looked at the caller ID that said unknown number. There was a picture attached. A feeling of dread went through his gut as he swiped his phone screen and peered at the grainy shot. It was of Calla and him at the deli he had taken her to lunch the other day. She was laughing at something he said.

  It looked like the person took the photo from quite a distance. Flynn was about to type a message to the caller when another photo came through. This time it was a picture of Flynn opening the door for Calla as he dropped her off last night. Flynn punched the call back on the screen with more force than necessary. He let the call ring through a dozen or so times before he gave up.

  Some asshole had not only been stalking him, but Calla as well. A primal need to protect her from whomever this sad fuck was overwhelmed him. He stood up and was about to run out of the office to get to her when he glanced at himself in the reflection of the window. He needed to calm down and think. Whoever this person was, they planned to send these photos, looking for a reaction. What he really needed to do was call the cops and warn Calla to be extra-vigilant at work. Walking back to his desk, Flynn punched the button for his personal secretary.

  “Yes, Mr Banroch. I was just about to call you.” She intoned in her serious voice.

  “I need you to call my contact at the Vancouver Police Department. I have a serious situation that I need taken care of right away”, Flynn barked out as the door to his office opened.

  “That won’t be necessary.” A female voice he recognised all too well intoned. “We have a few things to discuss, lover.” Flynn stood staring at the last person in the world he ever wanted to deal with again. “Come on now, don’t you at least have a smile for you ex-wife?” Melanie sauntered into Flynn’s office.

  Part IV

  “What the fuck do you want, Melanie.” The sick feeling in his stomach intensified as he put the pictures on his phone together with the woman standing in front of him.

  “You should be nicer to me, Flynn.” Melanie slid past him to sit in one of the chairs. “I thought you were supposed to treat all subs like princesses. Isn’t that in the Dom handbook or something?”

  “Or something”, Flynn barked before severing the call to his secretary. “We both know you’re not a submissive, Melanie, so I don’t have to worry about your damn feelings. I ask you again. What the fuck do you want?”

  “You’re so hostile.” Melanie sighed and stared at him with her pale blue eyes. He had once found them enchanting, now he recognised the cold calculation she tried to hide.

  “I have shit to do. Like find a stalker, but I guess you could help me with that.” Flynn sat down in his chair and stared at Melanie. She appeared to be uncomfortable for the first time since entering his office. “What have you done?”

  “You know I hate it when you use that voice on me”, Melanie snapped back, going on the offensive. This was how their marriage ended. Melanie throwing off her submissive mantle and embracing the new woman she had become. Whatever the hell that meant.

  “It’s my fucking voice.” Flynn didn’t give a crap. “Why are you stalking me?”

  “How do you know it was me?” She feigned innocence.

  “I don’t have time for this.” He reached for his handset again, but Melanie sat up straighter in her chair.

  “Maybe I can help you. Please don’t call the police. After all, you wouldn’t want your own brother to get into any trouble, would you?” she asked innocently. With that one line, Flynn felt his blood pressure climax and rage suffuse his system.

  “What have you done, bitch?” he ground out.

  “We’re only looking out for your best interests, Flynn. You do have some very naughty hobbies.” Melanie’s perfect pout transformed into a mocking smile.

  “More games, Melanie?” Flynn did his best to hold onto his temper, but Melanie playing games with him again brought out everything that had been wrong in their relationship. “Is there an actual reason for this visit?”

  “You’re going to step down as the CEO of Banroch Industries”, Melanie announced with little emotion. “Arthur will take over from you.”

  “My brother is very happy with his position of head of international assets.” Flynn scowled at Melanie.

  “He was happy with the pittance role you threw him when he finished university. Now however, he wants to stretch his wings, and I decided it was time to help him. Arthur and I know what it’s like to live under your shadow.” Melanie huffed a little.

  “There’s no way I’m going to give up my position at Banroch. You can fuck off out of my office.” Flynn waited for her to continue arguing.

  “If you do not resign within the next twenty-four hours, the board will know of your more unsavoury activities, including owning that BDSM club.” Melanie’s voice had turned nasty. “I
will also make sure that every gossip rag in the country gets pictures of you and that woman.”

  “Leave her out of your shit, Melanie.” Flynn warned. The thought he had made Calla a target of Melanie and Arthur’s little power play sickened him.

  “Miss Calla Jones has a very good career as a psychologist at one of the premium practices in the city. What do you think will happen when everyone knows she likes to have her ass spanked at night?” Melanie smiled in triumph. “You can’t win, Flynn. It’s in your nature to protect the people you love.”

  “And you are once again trying to use my nature against me. How did I not see what a scheming bitch you were all those years ago?” Flynn’s voice was cold as he contemplated his ex-wife.

  “You made me this way”, Melanie announced, and Flynn shook his head in bafflement. “It’s true. Once I was a sweet young girl who fell in love with the son of one of the richest men in the country. After years of your abuse, I can’t even have a normal relationship. You have ruined me.”

  “I met you at a club, Melanie. You were already in the lifestyle. Just not for the reasons you should have been.” Flynn took a deep breath and stared at his former wife. “Unfortunately for you, I haven’t changed. I don’t like being threatened or given ultimatums. I can tell you right now there’s no way I’m stepping down.” Flynn leaned across the desk. The look he wore on his face was enough to have Melanie shrinking back in his chair. “I would rather see the whole fucking world burn around me than give you anything more than I already have. Get out of my office and consider that my answer.”

  Melanie realised she poked the sleeping bear too much because when she stood her knees shook slightly. She raised her chin but couldn’t manage to look him in the eye. “You’ll be sorry, Flynn. You’re going to regret not rolling over and playing nice.”