The Instrument (Lesbian BDSM Erotica)

by Cress, Rynna

  Rubin unchained Zoe’s feet and neck, then removed the chain from her wrist cuffs, leaving her wrists cuffed behind her back. She was weak, and he helped her down to her knees, where Clare quickly moved in, holding her, rocking her gently in her arms.

  Rubin stared down at the two of them. He was very much aware of the fragile headspace Zoe was in, and knew he had to choose his actions carefully.

  “Help her up,” he told Clare, “and take her to get some rest. She’s gonna need it.”

  **********

  Clare helped a limping Zoe down the dark hallway to an elevator, taking her up two levels, back to the main floor of Rubin’s mansion. Stepping out, Zoe was struck once again by the level of class and elegance, such a stark juxtaposition to the cold, grimy darkness of the sub-basement Shock Room.

  Clare led Zoe through a large set of doors into a small, plainly decorated bedroom – her guitar leaning up against the wall, waiting for her. Clare helped Zoe off her feet and onto the bed, where she gratefully sunk into the soft comforter, totally exhausted. She couldn’t even resist as Clare wordlessly pulled a thin, retractable chain from the wall, locking it to Zoe’s collar.

  “How are you feeling?” Clare finally asked, taking a seat on the bedside and gently stroking her pet’s hair.

  Zoe, laying on her side with her back to Clare, answered without looking at her. “Aren’t you afraid he’s going to punish you for talking to me?”

  “Maybe he will, maybe he won’t,” she answered. “If he does, that’s his choice. This is my choice. Now please, answer me – how are you feeling?”

  Zoe couldn’t remember the last time Clare had said “please” to her. It sounded… wrong, but Zoe wasn’t sure if anything could sound right coming from Clare again.

  “I’m fine,” Zoe finally answered, refusing to admit how sore and broken she felt. “Just leave me alone.”

  “Zoe, look at me,” Clare commanded. Zoe hesitated, her instincts telling her to disobey, but something else… something she still didn’t fully understand, telling her not to.

  Slowly, Zoe finally turned to face Clare, coolly matching her gaze.

  “I’m sorry that I didn’t tell you about Rubin,” she began. “I wasn’t permitted to. He knew I had a dominant streak, and began instructing me on how to break a girl in as my own. You were the girl that he chose for me.”

  Zoe furrowed her brow. “Chose for you?”

  “Yes, Zoe,” Clare answered. “Us meeting was no coincidence. Rubin had seen you on the streets. For whatever reason, you stood out to him, you fascinated him. He saw something in you.” She paused, finally adding, “And I see it, too.”

  “I agreed to be your girl,” Zoe quickly responded, “I agreed to put my trust in you. Do you have any idea how huge that was for me? And now I’m just supposed to trust Rubin, too?”

  Clare sighed. “Without him, we never would have found each other, would we?”

  “Maybe that would have been for the best,” Zoe said quietly.

  “Do you really believe that?”

  Zoe looked long and hard at Clare. She didn’t have that answer yet.

  “Just know this,” Clare began, “I told you I would never allow you to be harmed, and I never will. Everything I told you about you and I was the truth. Everything we felt together was real. It’s just…”

  “More complicated now,” Zoe finished. Clare nodded.

  “Just give it a chance,” Clare pleaded, taking Zoe’s hand. “Stay with me.”

  A moment passed before Rubin appeared in the doorway. He motioned for Clare to join him.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let the girl sleep.”

  Clare was hesitant to rise, giving Zoe’s hand one last squeeze before getting up and following Rubin out of the room, leaving Zoe to herself.

  Zoe was silent, her mind racing. Stay with you, she thought, a faint, bitter smile flashing across her face.

  Where the fuck else am I supposed to go?

  **********

  EPILOGUE

  Five months later, Zoe was still closing her eyes whenever she sang. Only now, it was because of the bright lights bearing down on her. At least, that’s what she told people.

  She sat on stage at the small club, her purple Mohawk gone, replaced with short, light brown curls, and finished a song for a sparse, mostly respectful crowd. It was about as good as she could hope to play for in a small city like Fort Bell, Texas, just another stop on the way to Austin. Music had never been easy, but it had always been all she had ever wanted, and even if it was all she would ever have, well – that was all right with her, she had decided.

  The song ended, and Zoe smiled at the smattering of applause, waving to the crowd.

  “Thank you,” she shouted out, “you’ve been such a nice crowd this evening, I hope you’ve all enjoyed yourself. My name is Hannah Franklin, and I’ve got one more for you here before the main attraction comes out.”

  She strummed a chord, then turned back up to the crowd. “I don’t usually like talking about my songs,” she started, “but I guess I’m feeling chatty tonight. This one is a song about running away, something I guess I know a little bit about. If any of you out there are running from something, well, I guess this one’s for you then.”

  She closed her eyes and began to sing, the same song she had sang for Rubin and Clare. She rarely played it anymore, because it made her think of them, but then again, it wasn’t like she needed an excuse to think about them anyway… especially Clare.

  “Stay with me…”

  They were the last words Zoe had heard Clare say. Rubin had led her out of the room, and that was the last she saw of her. Simple as that.

  She laid on that bed for nearly an hour, thinking. She could already feel herself starting to trust Clare again, or at least wanting to – but that’s what had scared her. She looked down, staring her hands…

  …Staring at the key to her collar, the key from Clare’s necklace, the key that Clare had furtively placed into her hand just before Rubin had taken her away. All Zoe had to do was unlock and remove her collar, and she’d be free. Hell, the window in her room was even open – she could just wrap up in a sheet, hop out with her guitar, and hitch-hike her way out of town. It would be so easy…

  But then why had Zoe been lying there for an hour, wondering what to do? Did part of her really want to stay with the two of them? She had just been electro-tortured, her ass had just been brutally fucked – some might have even called it rape. And she didn’t want to run? She wanted more?

  It all came back to Clare, Zoe knew, and those three little words. Stay with me. Yes, Clare had lied to her, or at least kept the truth from her, but she couldn’t deny that their connection had been real. She had feelings for the woman, incredible feelings that she hadn’t ever felt before. She had to believe that Clare felt those same feelings. She trusted that at least that was true.

  But Clare had given her the key. Did Clare want Zoe to leave? No, Zoe decided. She had wanted Zoe to have a choice – and she had wanted Zoe to choose to stay. If you love something, set it free, and if it comes back, it’s yours…

  Love or freedom, Zoe realized, she had to choose. She could have one or the other, but she couldn’t have both. She was crying now, the immense stakes of her decision finally clear to her.

  Finally, she lifted the key to the lock. She held it there, tears streaming down her face, so completely unsure of herself.

  Stay with me, she could hear Clare saying.

  She felt her own heart break as she turned the key, the collar snapping open, falling from her neck. She knew there was no going back.

  Zoe came to the end of her song, the venerable, reliable old guitar ringing out the final chords. The audience clapped politely, and Zoe smiled brightly, doing the best she could to hide the emotions she was feeling inside, the painful, cathartic memories that the song always brought to the forefront of her mind.

  “Thanks so much everyone,” she said sweetly, “Good night!”
<
br />   She rose from her stool, taking a quick bow and waving to the crowd. One club closer to Austin, she thought. One club farther away from California…

  **********

  “Man, she’s really something, isn’t she?” the waiter said, collecting glasses from the table. “That voice… God, she was beautiful, right?”

  “Yeah, she was something all right.”

  “And that beat up old guitar,” the waiter added, “what an instrument. I mean, I’ve been bussing tables here every weekend for three years now, and that’s one of the best acts I’ve seen play here. And I’m always looking out for new talent, you know?”

  Rubin looked to Clare, a smile on his face.

  “Yeah, we’ve been looking for someone like her, too,” he said, watching as Zoe made her way backstage. He reached into his jacket, pulling out a large bill. “Now, can you go ahead take this for our tab? We’ve got an old friend to catch up with. Just keep the extra.”

  The waiter nodded, grateful for the huge tip, leaving them to their evening.

  “C’mon,” Rubin told Clare, “Let’s go introduce ourselves to ‘Hannah’…”

  **********

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rynna Cress is a writer and activist living in Dayton, Ohio. When not holed up at home writing out her dark, erotic fantasies, she enjoys spending time outdoors with her many wonderful dogs.

  She welcomes all questions, comments, and feedback regarding her work at rynnacress@gmail.com, and humbly encourages anyone who enjoyed this story to help support her by posting their review on the book’s website. Thanks for reading!

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