Temporary Master
Page 3
An exasperated sigh escaped Sabella as she slid into the booth seat, closely followed by Lauren. She’d just snapped open her napkin when Lauren began the introductions.
“This is Davis Clayton. I mentioned him the other night on the phone. He’s one of the co-owners of New Beginnings.” Her friend flashed a grin at Davis. “Davis, this my best friend Bella Johnston and the reason I asked you both to lunch. I think Bella might be the solution to the problem you mentioned to me earlier.”
If Sabella needed any more proof that Davis wasn’t in cahoots with Lauren, his expression would’ve told it all. A frown furrowed his brow as his fingers tightened around his drink. “I thought this was a date, Lauren.” His voice had the slightest touch of frustration in it. That’s when Sabella knew what was going on. Lauren was up to her usual flirtatious tricks – stringing the man along, raising his hopes that she might settle for being collared, when reality it was nothing more than a complex game to Lauren. Her friend would never settle down.
Lauren gave him an indulgent smile. “Well, if I hadn’t led you on to think it was a date, I wouldn’t have been able to drag you out of bed much before noon.” Lauren flashed an indulgent smile at Davis before turning to face Sabella. “You see he’s in a bit of bind which I think you could help him with, girl.”
Before she could answer, a waitress set a glass of ice water down in front of her. “Are you ready to order?”
“Sure, I’ll have the fish tacos with a small order of chile relleno.” The familiar order had the waitress smiling before she left.
Sabella turned her attention back to Lauren. “Well, you got me here under false pretenses, but I suppose I might as well hear you out, since I’m not leaving without tasting my yummy fish tacos.”
Davis growled but sighed. “You’re lucky you’re not my submissive, Lauren. I’d have warmed your bottom for a stunt such as this. In fact I may still do it, if this turns out to be a waste of my time.”
Lauren pouted. “That’s so not fair. I wasn’t doing anything against your will. You’re the one who said yes when I asked…”
Davis drummed his fingers on the table, his gray eyes snapping. “That’s when I thought you were going to take my offer seriously…”
Curiosity piqued, Sabella broke in. “What offer?”
Lauren actually blushed. “It’s nothing…”
Crossing his arms over his chest, Davis arched one dark brow. “I wouldn’t call my offer to scene with you as nothing. I’m very selective, as you well know. Any other sub would jump at the chance to feel my whip against their back.” He bestowed a smile on Sabella. “I’ve been wanting to see my marks of domination against your friend’s back for several months now. She has the most incredibly pale skin. One which I think will take a whipping very well. The very idea of seeing her lose control under my touch makes me hard as rock.”
If it were possible Lauren reddened further. “Davis Clayton, you’ll stop that, right now. We’re not in your club. This is a public place…”
Sabella nearly giggled as Lauren glanced around the room nervously. This was a first. Her friend was usually the one pulling the rug out from under a man, not vice versa. Sabella finally took pity on her friend when it looked as if Davis was going to continue in this thread.
“So what’s this favor you need, Mr. Clayton?”
“It’s not really for me, but for my club, Ms. Sabella. I’m sure you realize New Beginnings is quite new to the area?” When she nodded, he continued. “Well, as such, we’re still building our customer base, and I managed to finagle an invitation to demonstrate out of the Portland Leather Alliance. They’re going to allow my partner to teach and demonstrate kinbaku at their upcoming Kinkfest.” He toyed with his water glass. “Do you know what kinbaku is?”
As the waiter set down her sampler plate, she unrolled her napkin before answering. “Yes, it’s a form of shibari bondage. One which dates back long before the recognized form of modern shibari. It is believed to be a direct descendant of the old Hojōjutsu form of martial arts. It differs from shibari in the fact that it’s more traditional in nature as only hemp rope is used, and unlike shibari it uses no formal knots but instead uses…”
“Whoa!” Davis held up his hand, chuckling. “I do believe you know the material almost as well as Ethan.” He gave Lauren a look. “If she’s as experienced with the actual practice of it and not just the theory, I might just forgive you, Lauren.” An expectant look crossed his face. “Tell me, have you been suspended before by a nawashi?”
“A rope master?” Sabella shrugged. “No, unfortunately not. My last Master preferred the much more functional bondage that comes with spanking and whipping. But before Lou….him I used to fantasize about it, and even went to several shibari demonstrations. One Dom was nice enough to use me as his model to show how to do the basic harness. It was great even if my feet never left the ground.”
Davis’s smile grew wider. “Even without the suspension experience, she’s perfect. Ethan couldn’t ask for a better candidate.”
Wariness crept back in as he rubbed his hands together. “Perfect for what?”
“To be our model. Due to some unforeseen circumstances, the submissive who was going to do the demonstration cannot. With your agreement, I’d like you to meet my partner Ethan. I’m sure he’ll agree with me you’d be perfect for it.”
Sabella froze, her world coming apart at the seams at his request. This was the last thing she’d expected when she’d entered Bistro Sabor, She had a feeling she was once again at a crossroads of her life and damned if she knew which way to go.
Chapter Three
“Dr. Tremaine, your nine o’clock appointment is here,” Dolly, his receptionist spoke softly from the door to his private office.
Sipping on his gyokuro tea, Ethan nodded. The rare and expensive tea, which he normally reserved for special occasions or those which he thought might be particularly difficult, was an indulgence he was going to need today. The file in front of him described a man who had severe domination issues to the extent a court in both Chicago and New York had ordered him into therapy. It just had been his luck that he was one of the few psychiatrists in the Napa Valley area who specialized in such matters.
“Thank you, Dolly, please take Mr. Vayarti to the therapy room. I shall join him shortly.”
“Of course.” She gracefully backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.
Continuing to sip the green tea from the small ceramic cup, he thoughtfully gazed at the pattern on it. Embossed with gold leaf and an intricate river scene, the handleless cup fit perfectly in his palm. It was part of the tea set which had been a wedding gift from Tamiko’s family shortly after they’d married. It was one of the few things he’d brought to America when he’d left Japan nearly five years ago. Despite its origin, the traditional cup paired with the delightful taste of the gyokuro had the ability to sooth him, while still mentally preparing him for the upcoming session.
Glancing at the clock, he noticed it was two minutes until the hour and regretfully finished his drink. Rising, he carried the cup over to the small sink in the corner of his office. Rinsing the cup, he gently washed it before laying it on the tea towel with the rest of the set. After drying his hands, he gathered up the file and let himself out of his office, making sure to lock it. A precaution he’d adopted considering his therapy room and office were in his private home. The last thing he needed was another patient arriving and having access to something they shouldn’t.
After making sure his khaki pants and cotton shirt were lint free, he entered the therapy room. He wasn’t surprised when his patient jumped at his entry. Standing by the shelves on the far side of the room, a well-built man in his early forties was playing with the small clay figurines Ethan collected. While it don’t bother him, it surprised him considering what he’d read in the file. He’d expected the man to be pacing, or even sitting and reading. He wouldn’t have expected a man with dominance issues to be nervous.
“Louis Vayarti.” The man tucked his hands into his pockets. “I hope you don’t mind but your figurines are quite beautiful in their starkness. They don’t look to be machine made though. They’re handcrafted, aren’t they?
“Indeed.” Ethan wasn’t about to tell his patient that he’d created them as a form of therapy after Tamiko had died.
“Do you know by who? My mother loves art, in fact she owns a gallery in Chicago now, and would probably jump at the opportunity to show them.”
“From my understanding, the artist is quite reclusive and did it as a way to relax.”
Louis’s face lit up. “So you know the artist personally? Do you think you could introduce me? Even if he’s not interested in a showing, my mother’s birthday is coming up and I’d love to commission a set of them for her.”
“I don’t think that’ll be possible.” Ethan forced a small smile. “He no longer creates such things. I believe he found the peace he was looking for, and now has no need to create any longer.” More like no time. The club and Sheila have kept me too busy to do much more than sleep. “But we’re not here to discuss art, are we Mr. Vayarti?”
“Please call me Louis.” The dark haired man gave him a smile, before sinking into the chair across from him. “After all you’re going to be probing my mind to try and figure out why I flipped out. I think we should be on at least a first name basis, don’t you?”
“Of course, I have no issue with you calling me Ethan.” Ethan moved to the comfortable leather chair sitting adjacent to Louis. “So why don’t you tell me about yourself?”
Louis shifted. “What’s there to tell that you haven’t got in your file there?” Louis rubbed the back of his neck as if he were suddenly tired. “I’m an overworked stock broker who, due to too much pressure at work, and a decided lack of female companionship, flipped out after his father passed away. I moved out here to Napa to pursue a business venture which would take me away from my sordid past. I’m not even allowed into any of the clubs in Chicago and very few in New York.” He looked directly at Ethan. “I regret what happened but I honestly don’t know why I attacked Rena. I used to love her. She was always good to me. Very submissive to my needs as a man, which made her the perfect lover for me. Maybe that’s why I had a hard time accepting she’d moved on after we broke up. The way she behaved was as if I were her whole world.”
Ethan attempted to judge what was actually happening inside the man’s head. “So you’re telling me you once had a BDSM based relationship with your victim?”
“Yeah. I did. We met in a club in New York. She was perfect. Just the right amount of attitude but I could tell by the look in her eyes, the way she carried herself, she was just waiting for the right man to give control over to. For a while I was that man. And the night of the attack I just wanted it back – even for a little while.” Louis smirked. “But I bet you don’t understand? Why a man would want to a woman to submit to him, let alone a woman’s reasons for doing it?”
“I understand a lot better than you’d think, Louis. A surge of adrenaline as a woman gives over to you, placing her welfare in the palm of your hands. Trusting in your control and restraint you’ll eventually give her the domination she craves. It can be quite addictive.”
Louis’s face lit up. “So you do understand! My last shrink didn’t have a clue what I was talking about…”
Ethan held up a hand. “While I do understand the need to dominate and even condone it under the right circumstances, the reason we’re here is because of your inability to distinguish between consensual play and non-consensual. What you may have had originally with this Rena was most likely consensual, was it not?”
“Of course.” The man looked offended by the question. “We even had a written contract between us. I wanted to be sure everything was clear-cut for her. It wasn’t until I brought home another playmate that she flipped out and walked out on me. Up ‘til then everything we did together was what we both wanted.”
Ethan gave a grave nod. “I see. So she was unhappy when faced with the reality of the contract.”
Louis shrugged “Well, it wasn’t exactly spelled out in the contract that I couldn’t bring home another playmate for us to share. But every submissive knows a Dom has the right to have as many submissives as he wants.”
Ethan had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at the other man. It was men with attitudes like this which gave the BDSM world a bad name. “But did you actually have it outlined in the contract?
Louis glared at him. “I didn’t think I had to. It’s common knowledge if you’re involved in the scene. Doms get to have as many submissives as they like. The only stipulation she asked for was that I not share her with another without her consent. I wasn’t sharing her. I was fucking another sub that day. I truly don’t know why she left - other than misplaced pride. It wasn’t as if she wasn’t satisfying me. It was because she had been out of town and…well let’s say a man has needs.”
Ethan clenched the pencil in his hand tighter until his knuckles paled. “So this relationship ended because of this situation?”
Sighing, Louis toyed with a pill on his pants. “Yes. Before I knew it, she’d moved out — lock, stock and barrel. It wasn’t until after my father died and my relationship with the other submissive fell through, when I went to Chicago after my mother. It was there I ran into her again.”
Scribbling down a note in the margin to check with the Chicago P.D., he glanced up. “So where did you run into her again?”
“My mother’s hotel. She’d come to talk to Mom about the security on her new gallery. I saw her cross the room, and it suddenly hit me as I watched her walk so gracefully with such purpose. It reminded me of our time together, and how with the mere flick of my fingers her bravado was gone, and she was the needy woman she was born to be.” Louis surged to his feet. “That’s when I realized I never should’ve let her go. My wandering ways were going to have to stop, or I was going to have to get better at not getting caught if I wanted her back.”
“And did you talk to her about the idea of reconciliation before the attack?”
Louis shook his head. “I should’ve, but I was arrogant and so sure of myself. I let myself into her apartment and basically told her how it was going to be. But instead of being grateful, she told me to get out. She never wanted to see me again.” He raked his hand through his hair. “And I lost it. This was the woman who’d given me everything and was now denying me. I…” Louis stopped, his voice cracking. “…I never meant to hurt her. It was like suddenly everything went dark, and I was consumed by a rage I couldn’t control. She was supposed to obey me without question. But she didn’t. She argued with me and…if it hadn’t been for her boyfriend being there I probably would’ve done worse. She was…I mean…is such a little thing. Only came up to my chest.”
Ethan quickly processed the information Louis was giving him. Sure the man sounded contrite but something about his story didn’t jive. There had to be more than what the man was saying. Some of these details just didn’t add up. He spoke eloquently but it almost seemed rehearsed. As if he were telling Ethan what he wanted to him to hear.
“Well, than perhaps it was a good thing that her boyfriend was there. Think of how you’d have felt if you’d actually done worse.” Without even glancing at the clock above the door, Ethan knew he had to wrap this session up, or he was going to forget he was supposed to be the doctor helping Louis and instead wipe the floor with his patient. Somewhere along the way, Louis Vayarti had gotten his wires crossed when it came to his submissive. He’d forgotten the most basic of rules. Safe, sane and consensual did not mean the woman was a doormat for him to abuse. “All right our time is nearly up for today, Louis. I want you to make me a list of what you hope to accomplish with this therapy — other than fulfilling your obligations to the court, before our next appointment. Dolly will let you know when it’ll be.” Ethan ga
thered up his folder. “Now if you’d excuse me, I have another patient waiting.”
Louis stepped forward with his hand held out. “Thank you for taking me on such a tight notice, Dr. Tremaine. I promise I won’t let you down.”
Ethan ignored the pro-offered hand. “No thanks are needed. I’m merely doing my job. Once we get your goals in mind, I can set up an action plan.” He cupped his hand over the other man’s shoulder. “Now, I really do need to scurry.” Ethan slipped out of the room before Louis had a chance to protest.
Chapter Four
“So what did you do?” Mrs. Di’Angelo asked, gazing over the rim of her cup. In the early morning sun, her midnight black hair shone with blue highlights. Just the barest touch of silver at her temples gave away her true age. She hadn’t changed much in the year Sabella had been gone, and for that she was thankful. She was still the loving but strong-minded woman who’d wiped her nose as a child. Perhaps that was why she was seated in her neighbor’s cozy kitchen, discussing the idea of her being a model in a kinbaku demonstration. She could give her some perspective on the issue.
“I told them I had to think about it, Mrs. D.” Twisting her hair around her finger, Sabella leaned back against the chair, her own cup of coffee steaming in front of her. “I just don’t know if I’m ready to venture out again. My last relationship was a doozy. He left me without a dime. My own fault, of course. I took the chance. I left everything I knew to go to New York with him, didn’t even think about working or anything. All I wanted to do was please him.”
Mrs. D. studied her for a moment before setting the cup down. “Forgive me if I’m mistaken, Bella, but didn’t you tell me this was merely a demonstration? I don’t recall your friend saying the man was looking for a relationship with you — merely the use of your body as a prop so to speak.”
Sabella nodded. “Yes, but I know myself. I’m afraid I’ll want more.” She toyed with the cup in front of her. “It’s been nearly four months since I’ve been touched, and I’m afraid I’ll forget that the time this Dom will spend with me will be nothing more than training…”