by Dakota Trace
Ethan tipped his head. “Why? Just because I’m a Dom doesn’t mean I lack manners, Ms Johnston. Even though at times I might seem to.” He paused for a moment to take her in. “Believe it or not, I’m sorry if what I said on the phone upset you. I didn’t intend to. There are too many wannabes in the scene, and I jumped to the wrong conclusion.”
She sighed, acknowledging his point, before finally nodding. “You’re right. There are. Apology accepted.” Uncertain what to say, she finally blurted the first thing which came to her mind. “You know you’re not exactly what I was expecting.” She pursed her lips. “But I suppose I should’ve been. Considering Davis’s earlier threat.”
He chuckled. “Which one? The one to kick my ass, or the one where he’ll lock me in my own dungeon for the next week if I, as he puts it, “fuck this up again”.”
Shifting his weight a bit, he took a cautious step forward and closer to where she was standing. It was as if he were trying not to spook her. A slow smile teased her lips. It was hard to stay mad when he was being so careful with the way he handled her. “Relax, I’m not a horse.”
He arched an eyebrow at her, stopping with less than two feet separating them. “Some of the things you Americans say. Do I even want to know what horses have to do with this situation?”
“The way you were treating me. Being cautious, talking in a soothing manner. It’s as if you’re expecting me to bolt at any moment like a startled horse.”
“Ahh.” Understanding shone in his eyes. “Much like people from my mother’s family do when they work in with abused shiba inus.”
Tipping her head, she frowned. “You’re honestly comparing how you’re treating me to the way your family treats an abused dog?” Her face reddened, she knew she wasn’t fashionably thin but it didn’t mean she was a dog... “I know I’m a bit heavy for my height but there’s…”
“Stop right there.” The command had her drawing up short. Her eyes flew up to meet his. Their bright green depths were now frosty with displeasure. Everything submissive in her wanted to apologize. This whiplash thing going on with her emotions needed to stop, she decided as she fought the urge to drop to her knees and plead for his forgiveness. But he’s not my master. I have to remember I don’t have a Dom anymore.
He moved closer, his hand cupping her chin. “There’s absolutely nothing wrong with your body. If I have my way about it, I’ll get the chance to see it embraced by my ropes. Now repeat after me, “there’s nothing wrong with my body”.”
Disbelief coursed through her. She’d thought he was confident before, but where had this dominating presence come from?
“I’m waiting.” Softly spoken his words jolted her with both surprise and the unsurpassed need to submit. He obviously didn’t have an issue with waiting for her to repeat his words.
“The..re’s nothing wrong with my body.” She gave a sigh as he stepped back with a pleased nod.
“Since we have that out of the way and you’ve excused me for my rudeness on the phone earlier, can we discuss the possibility of you helping me with my upcoming demonstration?”
Mentally shaking herself out of the moment, she tried to gather her thoughts up. To remember what she’d originally planned on asking him, before their ill-fated phone call. She had stipulations. She needed to be strong — for her own sanity. Stepping away from him, she drew in a deep breath of air which wasn’t scented with his cologne. “I…if I do there’ll be some stipulations.”
A slight frown crossed his face before disappearing. “Stipulations?”
“Yes.” She met his gaze steadily with her own. “You’d have to agree, any relationship in the BDSM scene, whether it’s professional or personal, has to have a few ground rules so both parties involved know exactly what’s expected or not expected of them.”
“Of course, the foundation of any relationship, BDSM or otherwise, is communication.” He settled into the chair she’d abandoned. Crossing one ankle over his opposite knee, he relaxed. “So please tell me what you’d require of me, if I were to be your Dom for this demonstration?”
Her pulse jumped at the mention of him assuming the role of her Dom, but she forced her excitement back down. “To begin with, I wouldn’t expect you to be my full-time Dom. This would be a temporary situation at best. And while I’d agree to obey your commands during our time together regarding the kinbaku, I would expect when we’re not practicing or you’re not instructing me, that I be treated as your equal. I’ll also have a safeword. Lastly don’t expect sex from me — I’m very selective when it comes to choosing my lovers and I don’t choose lightly.”
He gazed at her thoughtfully. “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Everything other than the safeword stipulation you’ve asked for does nothing but diminish your position as a submissive. In fact, if you were my submissive, I’d assume you’re trying to top from the bottom.”
She forced a smile. “Which’s exactly what I’m doing.” Gathering up her courage, she continued. “It has nothing to do with your domination, Dr. Tremaine, but everything to do with me. I’m not the typical sexual submissive. I’m a true submissive who, if given the chance, lives for nothing more than taking care of those around her. Whether it’s my Master, my family, or even those kids out there who expect nothing more than a few art lessons from me, my need to care for them becomes my pleasure. Because of this, I’ve been hurt in the past. While I want to help you out, I also need to maintain my objectivity.”
He drummed his fingers on his knee as he absorbed her answer, taking a few moments before speaking. “When we spoke on the phone, you mentioned you’ve always had this desire to be bound and explored it with a previous Master. Obviously you found something intriguing enough about it in your limited exposure to it, that you still want more, or…” his eyes narrowed. “…you’re still looking for something. Which is it?”
She shifted uncomfortably. “That has nothing to do…”
“I hate to disagree here, but it does. Other than the pleasure you’ll receive by helping me, why are you willing to let a complete stranger tie you up, Ms. Johnston? What are you hoping to obtain?”
“I want to find out if the myths are true.”
He arched a brow at her. “What myths?”
“About subspace. I’ve heard other submissives talk about it in hushed tones. I’ve even paid a Dom to bind me all in hopes of experiencing it. But so far it’s been elusive.”
“Have you ever thought perhaps bondage is not what will take you there, but it may be you need something different?” He leaned forward, his expression thoughtful.
Shaking her head, she ran a hand through her hair. Finally giving into the need to dip her head to the left, she did so then sighed. “I’m not into extreme pain, nor am I into humiliation. But the thrill — even satisfaction — I get from the ropes…” she paused trying to find the words to express what she experienced in the past. “…it’s humbling yet erotic. There’s a bit of peace but with the possibility of more. It’s that ‘more’ which I’m after.”
When he didn’t respond right away, she wondered if she’d fumbled her explanation. Raising her gaze, she was captured by his stare.
“In exchange for helping me with my demonstration at the Kinkfest, I’ll help you find this ‘more’ while agreeing to your stipulations. We’ll have our first session on Friday afternoon, if it’s agreeable to you?”
She nodded dumbly, numb now that he’d agreed to her terms. She didn’t have classes on Fridays. It would work.
“Good. I expect you to meet me at my home at four and rest assured I will hold myself to the same standards as you do.” A smile tugged at his lips. “Not to worry, however, Davis and I share a home which is on the same property as the club. Bring Lauren if it’ll make you feel more at ease, but I’m sure my partner will be around.” He rose gracefully to his feet and turned as if to leave. He paused by the door. “Sabella, I’m a man of my word. If and when you decide you want more from me, you’
ll have to tell me. I won’t assume. You’ll be safe.” Letting it sink in, he slipped out of the room, leaving a very stunned Sabella standing in the middle of her boss’s office.
Chapter Six
“That’ll be all, Dolly.” Ethan shut his office door behind him, carrying the requested file he’d asked for back to his desk. It had been a long day of seeing patients for him, and he still had one more to go before his appointment with the lovely Ms. Johnston. He couldn’t remember ever having such a hard time getting through his schedule. In fact, he loved many things about his job, especially being able to help others. It all had to do with Sabella. She had preyed on his mind ever since he’d met her earlier in the week. She had been everything he hadn’t expected. From the top of her dark hair to the dainty toes peeking out of those silly, impractical Birkenstock sandals, she’d stirred him. Roused him in a way he hadn’t felt since before Tamiko had died.
Sinking back down into his leather chair, he couldn’t help but think about her, when in reality he should be prepping himself for his next patient. He’d finally gotten the arrest records and statements from the Chicago P.D. and he really needed to go over this new information on his patient, but he found he didn’t want to think about it. No, he wanted to focus on the submissive who was going to save his hide for the Kinkfest in March. She surprised him with her outspoken nature. She hadn’t “hemmed and hawed” as Davis was fond of saying. No, she’d been articulate but still respectful. At times during their discussion, she’d seemed to fight her nature. One which he’d been almost certain was submissive. He’d been rewarded when he pressed a bit harder, and she’d finally dipped her head in submission.
The sight of her, standing in front of Kaleb’s desk with her head turned to the left, her neck bared with her hands tucked behind her as she’d slipped into the Leasha high position without a single word from him had pushed all of his hot buttons. If the circumstances had been different, he would’ve taken the position as an offer on her part to accept his leash and anything he chose to do with her. He stilled as his dick rose to press against the front of his slacks. Even without seeing her nude, he had a feeling her lush curves would drive him insane with lust. It was probably a good thing that for the demonstration, all of her important bits had to remain covered. The loud chime of the clock as it struck half past the hour made him realize he had less than thirty minutes to prepare himself before his last client arrived
Flicking open the folder, he scanned the information a Chicago Detective Sean Anderson had put together. Skimming through the incident report detailing how a Rena MacCallister had filed charges against Louis Vayarti, he jotted down a few important facts. The fact the man had traveled from New York to Chicago seemed a bit stalker-ish. Then there was evidence not only had he pursued her while in Chicago under the guise of convincing his mother to give up a relationship with her younger lover, he’d also bought the apartment building where Rena had resided. The sinking in the pit of his stomach as he continued to read left a bitter taste in his mouth. The tall man who’d been in his therapy room last week, had not only violated his submissive’s safeword, he’d forced himself on her. It wasn’t acceptable by anyone standards — let alone the BDSM community. When a sub safeworded, all play stopped. It was the core of the community’s regulations, and the fact Louis Vayarti seemed to be picking and choosing what rules suited him, rubbed Ethan the wrong way.
Even as he finished reading the report from the incident of his client’s victim, her lover and his client’s involvement in a physical altercation, he didn’t know if any amount of therapy would help the man. He was still honor bound to try and give the man the guidance he needed. Flipping the police report up, he had just finishing reading the document under it, a court transcript detailing Louis’s subsequent arrest and court-mandated therapy, when Dolly knocked on his door once more.
“Yes?” He paused in his reading to jot down the therapist’s name and number. He wanted to get another doctor’s opinion on Louis, even if the doctor could tell him no more than what his basic impressions were due to the H.I.P.A. rules. He was pleased, however, to see Louis had continued his court-ordered therapy once he’d returned to New York. Scanning the documents, it looked as if there hadn’t been any follow up by the Chicago P.D. with the N.Y. P.D. Whether or not it meant anything, Ethan didn’t know. But he did know he would be asking Louis about it. One of the steps to healing was to own your part in what happened.
“Mr. Vayarti has arrived, Dr. Tremaine. Should I place him in the therapy room?” Dolly stuck her platinum blonde curls inside the office.
“That’ll be fine. Please assure him I’ll be with him shortly.”
“Very good, sir.” She paused. “Mr. Davis asked me to tell you he’s running behind and not to start without him.”
“I’ll take that into consideration.” Humor slowly died as he focused on the file in front of him once more, after Dolly closed the door behind her.
* * * *
Louis was seething as he left the therapy session with Ethan. He couldn’t believe he was still having to go to a damn psychiatrist when he had done nothing wrong. After all, he’d given Rena nothing other than what she deserved. Just because they’d had a spat didn’t mean she got to walk away from their contract like it was worthless. A man or woman was only as good as their word as far as he was concerned. But when he’d explained that to Ethan, he’d thought the slender Asian man would be willing to listen to him, if not agree with him, for handling it the way he had. In fact, after his first visit with Dr. Tremaine, he’d done his own research and found out the man was not only a working psychiatrist, but also the co-owner of the up and coming BDSM club New Beginnings. In addition, he’d found out the club was actually only a stone’s throw from the house where he went for his “therapy” sessions. Evidently the man had come over from Japan nearly five years ago, opened his head-shrinking business while working on the conversion of one of the old wine cellars and barn into an adult playground which would put some of the clubs he’d frequented in New York to shame.
But it’s obviously too much to ask for the good doctor to take my side in the matter, especially when I’ve done nothing wrong. But instead of agreeing with him, Ethan seemed to be disappointed in his behavior. As if that woman’s equality shit has any place in BDSM. It puts the woman right where she belongs — under my heel. He still found it hard to believe the gall of the man. He actually wanted him to write down why he thought his actions were wrong, and what should have been the appropriate response to Rena’s refusal to come to heel.
“Like fucking hell, I will, Dr. “Holier than thou”. It was her fault this shit happened to me. If she would’ve accepted her due as my slave, and not thrown a fit about me fucking that little submissive before Sabella, none of this shit would’ve happened.” Stalking down the flat stones lining the walk, he had just stopped next to his car, and was fumbling with his keys. He’d just slipped the key into the lock when he heard another approaching car. Keeping his head ducked with his back to the car, he hoped the person wouldn’t recognize him. While he was more prominent on the East Coast, there were still people on the West Coast who recognized him. The last thing he needed to was some busy body or notorious gossip to spread around the small town of Napa how a renowned stockbroker, one Louis Vayarti, was seeing a shrink who just happened to live not even a stone’s throw from a real live BDSM club.
As the small, maroon ragtop Volkswagen Beetle passed him, he caught a glimpse of dark hair and a feminine profile. There was something familiar about the tilt of the head, he thought as he slid into his car. Sticking the keys in the ignition, he waited a moment out of curiosity, wondering if he’d actually get a clearer view of the woman. But he grew frustrated when the woman took the drive on the far side of the house and her car disappeared from view. He was tempted to casually drive up the long winding drive which led to the private side of the house and even had the key in the ignition to do just that, when a silver S.U.V. pulled into the lot a
moment later. His eyes widened. Judging by the size of the guy driving, Louis didn’t want to have to explain why he was on the wrong side of house, especially when the drive was clearly marked private.
He’d just bide his time, it wasn’t as if he wasn’t coming back for another session, despite what he wanted. Damned court-appointed therapy. Once I get Ethan to sign off on the papers, I’m going to go and find a submissive and ride her long and hard.
* * * *
Sabella was just getting out of her car when a silver S.U.V. pulled up next to her. She smiled as she recognized the driver. When Davis hopped out of the truck, she greeted him.
“Why am I not surprised to learn you drive a huge, honking vehicle?” Pushing the strap of her purse up higher on her shoulder, she followed him up the walk to a side door.
He eyed her as he stopped to hold open the door. “It’ll be a cold day in hell before I try to squeeze into a tin can of a car like you drive.”
“I’ll have you know Thea is my baby: she’s a mint condition 1966 Volkswagen Beetle with white leather interior with only sixty thousand miles on her. She’s a classic!” She tried to sound affronted but failed, when a giggle escaped her at the idea of him squeezing his six and half foot frame into her tiny car. Now Ethan on the other hand would fit perfectly. She rather enjoyed the fact he was a few inches under six feet. It gave him a slender grace, disguising what she was sure was an inner core of strength. Entering the hallway, she sighed as the warm air wrapped around her. It was only late November but already the temperatures were plummeting into the low forties at night, and the weatherman had said it was only going to get up to sixty-one today. But she hadn’t been able to resist the soft sunshine of the late afternoon and lowered the ragtop on her car.
