“No-one can help me.”
“Don’t be foolish. Of course I can help. Now tell me what is going on!” As she was speaking, she took him by the arm and led him to the sofa. She pulled him down and seated herself by his side. She held his hand and said, “Spill the beans. I won’t leave you alone until you do, you know.” Catriona was pleased to see that he managed a wan smile.
“Okay, but you’ll see it’s a hopeless case.” Once he had started, it seemed he just couldn’t stop. Out came the whole story about Johann and Thyme, his subs who’d died in a car accident less than a year previously.
“You see, I wasn’t good enough to keep Johann from drinking. My love wasn’t enough for Thyme. She needed something I wasn’t giving her, and she found it in cyber-sex with that Jim.”
“Johann was an alcoholic. What about his family? What do they say?”
“He was from Eifel, a very conservative area of Germany. They cut him off. Threw him out when they found out he was bi-sexual. That’s when he started to drink. He adored his little sister, Ingrid, and until she was old enough to get back in contact, he lost touch with her. It hurt him so much.”
“Well none of that is your fault. He was going to AA and staying off the drink thanks to you.”
“If my phone had been charged and on, I could have stopped him driving and he’d be alive now.”
“Well, from what you’ve told me, that wasn’t your fault. You put it to charge. You can hardly be held responsible if the cable is faulty.”
“Even if I accept all you say, Thyme found me inadequate in some way. I failed her. She needed more than I could give her.”
“You’ll forgive me for speaking ill of the dead, but she didn’t have much between her ears. Oh I grant you she was an attractive and affectionate girl, but there was little sense in her head. I bet she thought that cyber-sex didn’t count.”
“What?”
“Well, many people think it doesn’t as it’s not real.”
“Bullshit.”
“No, seriously, Rafael. I was reading a post about it on Facebook the other day, and opinion was split fifty-fifty.”
“But where emotions are involved, it’s real.”
“I didn’t say I thought that it was okay. I agree with you. If she didn’t tell you about it, deep down she must have thought it was wrong. It was flattering or entertaining or exciting to her. It gave her a thrill, and part of that might have been that it was illicit, so she did it.”
“It’s no use, Catriona. I’m not a fit Dom. I can’t risk taking permanent subs again.”
“Well, if you leave those two who are obviously extremely attached to you and you don’t go and sort out the situation, I would have to agree with you. You managed in the space of one night to captivate two people who want to explore a future with you. You pushed them away, and they are hurting. Who knows what they’ll do, and that will be your fault my friend.”
She saw that her words had had an effect, and she decided to leave well alone. She’d said enough. Let him sleep on it and he’d do the right thing, she was sure. Whatever she’d said, she knew he was a fine and caring Dom, just a little off the rails at the moment, and that was understandable. She could wring that Thyme’s neck for doing that to him. That pair had a lot to answer for. Johann was damaged by his past, but Thyme was just a stupid, childish girl. She’d hurt Rafael badly, and Catriona hoped he’d get over it and find a future with Jess and Heather, but it didn’t seem likely at the moment.
“I have to go now. You go home, get some rest, and think about it.” She kissed his cheek and patted his hand. Leaving Prometheus’s office, she turned left to the main club room. Seeing him turn right and go to the entrance and reception, she smiled. He was taking some of her advice then. If he thought about it rationally, he’d do the right thing. She walked over to the sub’s area where Angel was waiting for her. She saw his eyes light up as his gaze met hers. He got up, and she waited at the top of the stairs. When his face was level with hers, she kissed him soundly.
“Come along, Angel, time for our demonstration.” She heard his sigh.
“Yes, Mistress.”
“What is it, love?”
“I don’t particularly want to be trussed up like a Christmas turkey for all to see tonight, Mistress.”
“No?”
“No. I just want to fuck you senseless.”
Colour flooded her face, and moisture collected in her pussy. He always had this effect on her.
“Well, after the demo I have a session with two long-standing clients. Harvey and Lawrence are here for the week again. After that I’m free. We could take a room.”
“No, Mistress. I just want to go home and enjoy our time together in our own home.”
“Very well, my Angel. You shall have your way. Come along. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner I can enjoy this.” She put out her hand and cupped his balls, feeling his hot, hard, and throbbing cock twitch under her touch. He was going to need release before they got home. She’d take care of him after the demo.
“Well, at least it’s not CBT tonight, Mistress,” Angel said as she led him toward the raised area where a crowd awaited their arrival.
* * * *
Jess blamed himself for Heather’s pain and suffering. He’d persuaded her to go to that club. He forgot that he always had to persuade her to do new things. She was very much a creature of habit, and the new tended to frighten her. In the past he’d got her to go swimming and even taken her to try horse-riding. She’d not taken to the latter, but now she swam every week and loved it. He’d got her to go to classes to improve the very basic French she’d retained from school. She’d been very successful, and they were planning a holiday in the south of France for the summer. All this was forgotten as he wallowed in his guilt and pain.
As she slept, she murmured in her sleep, tossing and turning. When he took her in his arms and soothed her it wasn’t enough to calm her. He had to get away and clear his head. Carefully he settled her back on her pillows, got up, and dragged on boxers, socks, jeans, and a tee shirt. Grabbing his jacket, soundlessly he let himself out of the flat. At the front door of the building, he turned right and began to walk briskly. He tried to keep all thoughts out of his mind, but it was well nigh impossible. He was hurting, too, and there was a small part of him that resented having to be strong for her. Who’s strong for me? I hurt, too, and I feel guilty on account of her suffering. What am I going to do? How can I make amends, and who will help me? He continued to walk and the combination of the fresh, night air, and the exercise revived his spirits a little. He stopped to catch his breath and realised that he recognised the street and the door immediately in front of him. Maybe there is such a thing as fate. Maybe this is a way to atone. He opened the door and went inside.
It was just as he remembered it. Davy Jones’s Locker was not such a classy establishment as Prometheus in Chains. It would do for him though, and he began to look around for a Dom who would suit his purpose. He found one. The Dom was large, bald-headed, covered in tattoos and piercings, and dressed in the traditional leathers. He was only too happy to oblige Jess. The Dom said his name was Mordor.
“What’s your safe word, Jess?”
“Elephant, Sir.”
“Let’s begin then.” Mordor attached Jess to the St Andrew’s Cross and checked that the bindings were comfortable and didn’t restrict the blood flow, and then he picked up the flogger and began. As the blows rained down upon his back and buttocks, Jess moaned and writhed. Tears gathered in his eyes and flowed down his cheeks. He was paying with his own suffering for the pain he’d caused Heather. That was only right.
“Are you okay?” Mordor asked quietly.
“Yes, Sir,” Jess murmured. The flogger descended again and again. Jess felt himself floating. He was at peace. He looked down on his body where, still attached to the cross, it suffered the pain it deserved.
“Jess, answer me. Are you okay?”
As if from afar,
he heard the words and the concern in Mordor’s voice. He couldn’t answer. It required more effort than he was capable of. He felt the flogging no more. His bonds were released and his body sagged, but Mordor’s arms were there to gather him up and carry him off. Jess smiled
Mordor settled on a sofa, sent a passing sub for water, and said, “Now tell me what this is all about? Why are you here? Why didn’t you use your safe word?”
“I must pay for the pain I’ve caused her,” Jess answered.
“Why, and who is she?”
The sub brought the water, and Mordor held the bottle to Jess’s lips, obliging him to drink.
“Now, tell me all!” His tone brooked no refusal, so Jess poured out the whole story as Mordor held him.
When he’d finished, the big Dom said, “It seems to me that yours is not the only blame. You are being too hard on yourself. You have needs, too, and seem to have spent far too much time shouldering the burdens. It will do you good to get all this off your chest. You have to talk to Heather and make her see that the current arrangement, while fine for her, does not come close to fulfilling your needs. Do that. Then come back here, and we will take it from there.”
By this time Jess was feeling a lot calmer but very tired. He thanked Mordor and promised to do what he’d suggested, and then he collected his clothes and got dressed, hissing as the fabric came into contact with his tortured flesh.
When Jess got back home, Heather was sitting at the kitchen table cradling a cup of tea in her hands.
“Where have you been for so long? I was worried about you.
“I couldn’t sleep, so I went for a long walk to clear my head.”
“You have been gone for hours. Did the walk do the trick?”
“No, it didn’t. After I’d walked for a long time, I found myself outside Davy Jones’s Locker, so I went inside and that did help.”
Heather said no more. She got up and put her arms about him, letting them fall when he winced at her touch.
“What is it?”
“Just a bit tender, love, that’s all.”
“Show me!”
Reluctantly he stripped to the waist, and she hissed in a breath as she saw the welts on his back.
“Show me the rest, Jess.”
He dropped his trousers and boxers. His buttocks and upper thighs were in a similar state.
“Go and get in the shower. I will find the cream.”
When he’d showered, she made him lay face-down on the bed, and tenderly she smoothed soothing ointment over his back, buttocks, and upper thighs. He sighed.
“Why did you need to do this, Jess?”
“I just needed it.”
“Why? Why did you need to let someone hurt you so?”
“I hurt you. It was only right that I paid for it. I took you to the auction. You didn’t really want to go. I know that. It was my selfishness that got you hurt so badly, and now I have to pay for it.”
“No, love, you don’t. I don’t need or want you to be hurt for me.”
“No, I know you don’t. It’s for me. I can’t forgive myself until I atone.”
“Oh, Jess. Please don’t do this again. I can’t bear to see you hurt on my account,” Heather said, tears pouring down her cheeks to drip unheeded onto her dressing gown as she held his face between her hands and looked into his eyes.
“It’s not for you, love. It’s for me. When I have paid, it will all be fine.”
Nothing that she said could persuade him otherwise, so in the end she just held him close until she’d stopped crying and somehow accepted that if that was what he wanted, then that was the way it would be. She wasn’t happy about it, but she did see that he wouldn’t be content until he had made amends according to his own lights. She didn’t have to like it, but neither could she continue to protest when all that did was upset him more.
“Let’s go to bed, Jess.”
“Yes, love, I’m tired out now.”
She hoped she could come up with some good reasons for his not going back to the club, but she very much feared it was all going to end badly.
Chapter Six
Rafael got home, closed the door, took off his coat, and sank wearily into his favourite chair. He thought about all Catriona had said. He saw the logic behind her reasoning. At first he refuted it. She’s wrong, oh so wrong. Then gradually he began to wonder if she had right on her side. He thought again about Thyme. He’d always known she was vain and flighty, but he had believed that she loved him. Catriona had shown him another option. Thyme did love him as much as she could love anyone other than herself. Was it vanity that made her accept and return those e-mails? He wished now he hadn’t deleted them. Eric would know how to retrieve them but did he want Eric to know?
He began to think about his life with Thyme. Her constant demands for this item or that because some sub in Prometheus in Chains owned it, too. She’d spent hours in the hairdresser’s, nail salon, and gym. She looked at herself in the mirror all the time. Why hadn’t he seen that side of her? The truth is he was mesmerised by her. Like some gaudy butterfly, she flitted around him, always glittering, always on the move, bursting with energy, and he’d been dazzled. She’d twisted him around her little finger and Johann, too. Her caressing ways, soft voice, and ‘little girl lost’ air hid a will of iron and a determination to get her own way.
He could see that now. God help him or Johann if they’d crossed her will. She’d treated them to some draining rows, followed by days of sulking until she’d got her own way. How could he have been so blind? He’d excused her, blaming it on her youth. Now he realised that it wasn’t youthful high spirits and inexperience, but rather a determination to have her own way. She was young and pretty and used all the weapons at her disposal. That was indeed true.
Johann was another matter. He’d taken to drink when he was denied all contact with the little sister he adored. Catriona was correct. He was an alcoholic. Rafael had urged him to join Alcoholics Anonymous, but Johann had resisted. Should he as the Dom have compelled his sub to obedience? Then he recalled the old saying, “You can take a horse to water, but you can’t make it drink.” It was an odd saying, but it made so much sense. He could have compelled the man to go to the meetings, but without his own determination to give up, it would never have worked. Catriona was right again, drat her. He smiled for the first time that night. Maybe he wasn’t to blame after all. Where did that leave him now? What about Heather and Jess? Damn it, but Catriona was correct. He had a duty as a Dom to them both, and he’d dismissed them, turned them away. Well, he’d sleep on it and then decide what to do tomorrow. He just hoped he hadn’t left it too late.
* * * *
The next evening in spite of all Heather could say or do, Jess went out again. He refused to allow her to accompany him, so she sat and watched TV. Her mind was in turmoil. Why did Jess need this pain? She began to think about their life and realised that she was happy with the situation but he wasn’t. He couldn’t be. He was a switch, but she was a sub and so he had to be a Dom all the time. He must have longed to have someone else shoulder the burden from time to time, but it wasn’t in her. When they’d gone back to Prometheus in Chains, he’d faced Master Rafael alone and she’d cowered in the sub’s area. Despicable. She ought to have been by his side. She wanted Rafael as much as Jess did. In fact, Jess hadn’t betrayed the upset that she had over the dismissal. He’d kept it all inside while she wallowed and he comforted her. Who had comforted him? No-one. She was a selfish bitch. That was the truth. If she carried on like this, she’d lose Jess, and deservedly so. He was hurting, too, and more than her because he’d taken the public rejection, but she’d been so upset and so inward-looking. He’d had no comfort and he’d seen how upset she was, so he’d blamed himself for what had happened. Really, she should grow some balls and not cling so and whine. She sat up and straightened her shoulders. She’d go and find him, and bring him home. She’d go right now and put a stop to all this. She stood up as the doorbell ra
ng. What a stupid time of night to come calling. She went and looked through the peep-hole and saw it was Master Rafael. Shocked, she opened the door.
“Master Rafael?”
“May I come in, Heather, please?”
She stepped back, and he entered the flat. She closed the door behind him as if in a dream. What was he doing here?
“Please sit down. Can I offer you a drink?”
“No, thank you. I need to speak to you and Jess.”
“Jess isn’t here.”
“When will he be back?”
“I don’t really know. Is it something I can help you with?”
“It seems I must do this twice then. I came to say sorry for my behaviour. I ought not to have left with no word to you both, or dismissed Jess so cruelly the other evening.”
Heather felt her mouth open in an “oh.”
“I must explain.”
When he’d finished telling her about Johann and Thyme, Heather’s cheeks were wet with tears.
“I’m so sorry, Master Rafael. We didn’t know, and it explains a lot.”
“I blamed myself for their deaths and Thyme’s need for cyber-sex. I felt that I couldn’t risk hurting you two or risk more tragedy, as I cared for you.”
Heather was suddenly very angry. “Oh but you are. Jess is out now and getting flogged. He’s taking pain to atone for exposing me to the hurt that you inflicted on me. We have both been culpable, you and me, and neither of us deserve him. Both of us have failed him, and now we are going to make amends.” She clapped her hand over her mouth as she realised to whom she was talking. She’d just put a Dom firmly in his place.
Rafael smiled.
“Don’t worry, pet. It’s okay. I’m not angry. I deserve all you’ve said and more. You haven’t said anything that I haven’t been thinking for the past day and a half since Catriona took me to task. Where is Jess now?”
“Davy Jones’s Locker.”
Saving Master Rafael [Prometheus in Chains 11] (Siren Publishing Ménage Amour) Page 5
