“Master?”
“Have you ever been fisted, Sloan?”
“Fuck, no.”
“It was hell….”
Chapter 22
“TELL ME,” I said, moving back into position within his embrace. I figured he’d be more comfortable reliving a painful experience without the added pressure of seeing my facial expressions, which suffered from the same lack of filter that governed my mouth.
“There’s a reason I harp on you about the importance of using your safe word.”
“Is it because you didn’t?”
“That’s right. I was under the misconception that the more pain I could endure, the more I would experience, thus becoming a better Dom. Part of our training included understanding every tool and sexual kink in the BDSM arsenal.”
“Didn’t your mentor know what the hell he was doing?”
“He expected me to safe word if I was in pain, but he forgot who he was dealing with.”
“GI Joe.”
“Exactly,” Trent said, reaching for the pack of cigarettes on his nightstand. “Do you want one?”
“Yes.”
He made a big ceremony of lighting the cigarettes, probably because he needed time to gather his thoughts. After being with this man for almost a year, I could tell when he was gearing up for something unpleasant. We smoked at a glacial pace, and I had to restrain my need to prod him along. Finally, he resumed his story.
“I had just graduated from West Point with the highest honors. I took pride in my physical prowess. The last thing I wanted was to wimp out on a practice that was supposed to be safe and fairly common in our world.”
“It’s not that common, Trent. I don’t know any gay men who fist.”
“Maybe not in your circle, but it’s fairly common in mine.”
“How did you get into BDSM in the first place?”
“My roommate.”
“At the academy?” I was shocked.
“Don’t act so surprised. You have no idea what goes on behind those brick walls.”
“No, I don’t, and I really don’t care. Please continue.”
“Jack introduced me to the right people.”
“Were you lovers?”
“More like fuck buddies. We had the same professional goals and took a risk every time we snuck into each other’s bed. It was convenient to have a roommate who was gay and who understood the repercussions of being caught. Exposure was an ongoing threat. Later on, we found out we had more in common than a need for cock―we both fantasized about whips and chains. Jack was aggressive in his pursuit of the lifestyle and carried me along in his wake.”
“Was he the one who fisted you?”
“No. It was some guy who was supposed to ‘train’ me.”
“Straight to the emergency room.”
“How did you know?”
“I may be naïve, but I’m not stupid. He hurt you, right?”
“Everyone thinks a man’s ass can withstand just about anything, but no one talks about the risks. After my accident, I was enlightened by my internist. The soft walls of the lower colon can be easily damaged by trauma or a sharp fingernail. We are not as unbreakable as you might think.”
“I never thought we were.”
“In my determination to succeed, it never occurred to me that my trainer didn’t know what he was doing. I didn’t speak up or safe word when the pain became too intense. I just gritted my teeth and took it like a goddamn hero. Later on, I found out it was his first time as well.”
“That’s awful.”
“I think he freaked when my muscles convulsed around his wrist. Instead of waiting for me to relax, he pulled out abruptly and nicked my colon with one of his nails.”
“Wasn’t he gloved?”
“No.”
“Even I know that’s wrong.”
“We made a lot of mistakes that night, but if I had only spoken up when I started to get uncomfortable he would have stopped before causing any serious damage.”
“Did you know instantly?”
“No. After the scene, I suffered through several hours of extreme pain and finally gave in to Jack’s nagging. He drove me to a private clinic and waited around while I was in treatment.”
“How did you guys get away without being booted out of the military?”
“We were on leave and used fake names. The manager at the club knew a couple of doctors in the lifestyle who were willing to patch me up without asking too many questions. We paid for everything in cash so there was no insurance or paper trail.”
“Jesus.”
“It was touch and go for a while. I almost died from peritonitis.”
“What’s that?”
“When the colon was perforated, toxins leaked into my body causing massive infection.”
“Didn’t you have symptoms to alert you?”
“Of course I did, but I ignored the signs. I thought fever and abdominal cramps were part of the deal.”
“Christ, Trent.”
“It was an object lesson.”
“Is the damage permanent?”
“Physically, I’m fine. I was as good as new within a few months. It’s the mental part that’s a work in progress.”
“You’re scared.”
“It’s more than that. I was traumatized by the accident, and I’m irrational when anything gets near my ass.”
“But you never objected to the rimming. In fact, I thought you rather enjoyed it. And what about the few times you’ve let me stick a finger up there to prod that sweet spot of yours?”
“I know that your tongue can only go so far, and a finger is a far cry from having your sensational cock inside of me. As soon as you get close, the anxiety mounts, and I start to lose my erection.”
“Have you ever sought help?”
“No… I was sure I could fix the problem on my own. It’s been almost eight years, and I’m no closer to fixing anything than I was when it happened. I’ve even tried using a dildo on myself, hoping that being in control would help me to relax, but I seize up the minute that rubber starts poking through the ring of muscle.”
“Did you enjoy being penetrated before the accident?”
“Honestly? No.”
“You always topped?”
“Jack and I would switch off, but he didn’t mind getting fucked, and I preferred to do the fucking.”
“He obviously lacked certain skills.”
“I don’t remember any pleasure from our few attempts.”
“Not once?”
“No.”
“That’s a shame.”
“Is this a deal breaker, Sloan?”
I shook my head vigorously. “I love you, damaged goods and all.”
“Thanks a lot,” Trent grumbled.
“Seriously, it’s not that critical.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to feel deprived.”
“In the last nine months, I have experienced the most amazing orgasms. I wouldn’t exactly call me deprived.”
“Thank Christ,” Trent said, pulling me closer. “I’d hate to lose you over this.”
“It’ll take much more to push me out the door.”
“That isn’t my intention, but I felt you needed to know before accepting my proposal.”
“I’m not the kind of person that balks at physical limitations. You must know that by now.”
“You were with a blind man for years.”
“I know there are certain things one can’t force, no matter how hard we try.”
“I’m not opposed to trying,” Trent said quietly, “but you need to know what a gigantic mental block you’ll be dealing with.”
“Let’s put this to rest for now,” I said, reassuring him. “Do you and Jack still keep in contact?”
“He was killed in Afghanistan.”
“Oh, shit… I’m sorry I brought it up.”
Trent shrugged, and when he finally spoke I could tell he was remembering his old friend. His voice sounded
dangerously husky, like he was holding back a sob. “He died doing what he loved.”
“Well, I’m glad you’re here.”
“I am too.”
Trent fell asleep after that, exhausted from the confession. He wasn’t the kind of man who admitted to failure, and this must have rankled, thinking he was diminished in my eyes. I had to make sure I never brought it up again. On the other hand, I wasn’t about to let a little anxiety derail me. I was a persistent fucker, and I had every intention of proving that anal sex could be an enjoyable experience. Even if it took every ounce of patience in my body, I’d pursue this goal, relishing every moment of the chase. I loved Trent, and now that there was something tangible I could provide, I was hell-bent on finding a way to overcome his fear. It was only a question of time.
Chapter 23
MY FORMERLY tranquil apartment was resonating with all the new sounds that had invaded my life. The mewling of hungry newborns awaiting their turn at the breast grated on my nerves while Noriko’s usually pleasant voice, soothing each child with a Japanese lullaby, sounded foreign and out of place in this setting. Freddie joined in the melee, barking unexpectedly when the house phone started to ring and I didn’t answer fast enough. Hardly anyone ever called our landline, so I knew it had to be Joe.
I had been expecting him to call me back after I’d informed him of our discovery, asking him to investigate Sloan’s bloody shoulder. He was someone I’d known most of my life, my father’s good friend, and my almost father-in-law. Joe had never been harsh or rude in the past, but tonight he was not only angry, he was insulting.
“Cole, I don’t know what game you’re playing, but I’ll thank you to mind your own business and concentrate on your wife and children. Stop putting ideas in my head about Sloan. He’s not cutting again, and all you’ve succeeded in doing is getting everyone riled up. Was that your plan all along? Sloan is happy with Trent who, incidentally, has made a commitment beyond anything you’ve ever offered.”
“What commitment?”
“They’re getting married.”
I staggered, holding onto Freddie’s harness to keep myself from falling. A death sentence couldn’t have sparked a worst reaction. “When did that happen?”
“I don’t see how that’s any of your business. You lost that right when you chose Noriko over Sloan.”
“Thank you for calling,” I said, abruptly disconnecting. I didn’t want to hear one more word. My head felt like it was going to explode. Lately, it seemed like voices were crowding around in my brain, taunting me for having fucked up at every turn. My humiliation was choking me now that the entire world would be privy to my shame.
I headed to my bedroom, ignoring Noriko’s plea to stay and discuss the details of the party she had planned after the miyamairi ceremony. It was the impromptu gathering that had started this entire chain of events. Suggesting that I proposition Sloan to become my plaything had come in the aftermath of our discussion on remaining together as a married couple. I should have known this would blow up in my face. Sloan had rejected the idea of sharing me from the very first moment he’d heard Noriko’s name. To think I had deluded myself into believing he’d feel differently just because we’d had sex. Trent was probably a thousand times better in bed than I’d ever be. Why would Sloan choose me over Trent when all I had offered was the inglorious title of boy toy/mistress?
A migraine was in the offing. The usual signs were there: the nausea, the pain behind my eyeballs, and the pressing vice around my skull. Being incapacitated by another one of my killer headaches was not unusual. What was different was the frequency―I was getting them more and more often. Fumbling around on my nightstand, I latched on to the bottle of pills that would bring some relief. I dry swallowed two and lay on the bed waiting for the drugs to kick in. While I waited, I stewed in my misery. If I were a violent man, I’d go on a rampage, lashing out at anything in my path. However, that wasn’t my style, and furthermore, how much damage could a sightless man actually inflict on anything?
The relief brought on by the drugs began creeping up my neck, and soon my head felt a million times better. I was encased in a ball of cotton, padded from outside forces threatening to hurt me. The idea of floating around on this cloud indefinitely was suddenly very appealing. To live in a pain-free world, escaping from the mental anguish that had been tormenting me for months, would be ideal. My last coherent thought before I fell asleep was to make sure I got a refill of my prescription.
The next day, I went through the motions. Bowing at the Shinto priest when it was appropriate and responding to the chants as I’d been instructed. Afterward, at the apartment, I spent the necessary amount of time greeting the guests and accepting the gifts they’d brought for the boys. They were treating this event like a christening party, which it was―Japanese style. They gushed over the twins, telling me how much they favored my side of the family. I felt detached from the entire experience and moved about like a zombie, aided in large part by the pills that I’d continued to take, long after the migraine had disappeared.
I didn’t know half the people who’d shown up. Noriko had made new friends over the course of nine months who were virtual strangers to me. She’d been perfecting her English by attending a class at NYU and had also become part of a group of young married women she’d met at the childbirth classes. Although they seemed nice, I had nothing in common with them. I resented the invasion of my space and their curiosity. None of these people knew Sloan or anything about my life prior to Noriko. All they saw was a blind man who’d fathered two sons and who was doing his best to cope. As they started to leave in trickles, I excused myself and headed for the kitchen. I was having a cup of tea when Mom walked in and began doing the dishes. “Is everyone gone?”
“Yes,” she replied. “I thought I’d help clear up this mess before I took off.”
“Leave it. Noriko will attend to it later.”
“She can’t possibly do everything, Cole.”
“Don’t underestimate her, Mother. She manages just fine.”
I had my head turned toward her voice, and I sensed the disapproval immediately. “What’s wrong with you?” she asked. “You’re acting like you’re in a trance.”
“I had a terrible migraine yesterday, so I took the pills that make me loopy.”
“Don’t take them. You can’t afford to be drugged around the babies. Are you getting enough sleep?”
“Do you know anyone with newborns who’s not sleep deprived? I’ve been getting by on five hours.”
“Do you catch up during the day?”
“Take naps? Mom, the reason I took a leave from work was so I could help Noriko. She wouldn’t appreciate me sleeping on the job.”
“How much longer will you be home?”
“Until next semester.”
“Why don’t you hire a nanny to help out?”
“She doesn’t want one.”
“Noriko’s a very good mother, but she can’t do it all, Cole. You should insist.”
“Drop it, Mom.”
“I don’t want her to be overwhelmed by the work with the babies while caring for you as well.”
“I don’t need Noriko for anything personal.”
“I’ve seen her put your needs ahead of anyone else’s, which is admirable considering your arrangement.”
“She’s been very kind.”
“She loves you, Cole. You do realize that, don’t you?”
Ignoring her comment, I walked out of the room. What did it matter if the entire world loved me when the only person I wanted was beyond my reach? I heard the kids crying again, and then Noriko and Mom’s voices soothing them in a low murmur. It didn’t occur to me to go and find out if my presence was required. All I could think of doing was taking another pill, lying down, and floating away on that white cloud.
Closing my eyes, I drifted off to happier times when Sloan and I were in perfect harmony. That picture was shattered when I remembered our argument in Montauk, th
e first week Noriko came into our lives. Just because we can doesn’t mean we should. Why didn’t I listen to him? Why did I discard every sensible argument that Sloan broached in favor of my father’s needs? Where was Dad now that I was saddled with the wife and children he’d planned? Who would keep me sane when the love of my life married another man―the usurper who’d only been given a chance because I’d fallen asleep on my watch?
I reached over and shook another pill out of the bottle. I had to stop thinking about this because it was pointless. I’d never be able to recreate my former existence. The key ingredient was missing. All I had to look forward to was a future surrounded by the people I’d longed for with a single-mindedness that bordered on obsession. I’d hoped they would be my salvation, but they’d been my downfall. I didn’t want this anymore than Sloan did. Or did I? What happened to my dreams of being a doting dad and teaching my boys baseball? Right… the blind man teaching a kid how to catch a ball was as realistic as the vision of Sloan and I standing in front of a judge and getting married. Too little too late… story of my life.
Since I’d never get back together with Sloan, I didn’t care if Noriko and I were ever divorced. She could hang around indefinitely, or at least until the boys started school and didn’t need her constant attention. I’d tell her later, after my nap. Maybe then she’d stop worrying about the future. The sound of her voice irritated me anyhow. I’d much rather hear Sloan singing a Queen medley.
The next few weeks dragged on. Each day was the same mindless routine involving children. Noriko was patient as I continued to fumble around diapers and bottles but didn’t trust me to bathe the twins after Keni slipped in my soapy hands and almost drowned. She insisted on performing that task after the incident. We discussed nannies at length and reluctantly agreed to hire part-time help. The chores were multiplying, and when she realized I was an encumbrance, rather than an asset, she admitted that another set of hands and, more importantly, eyes would be nice. We hired a young Japanese woman she’d met at school, and soon the apartment resounded with the unfamiliar tittering of women speaking Nihongo.
“You ladies will never learn English properly if you revert back to your language whenever you’re together,” I said disapprovingly. Although I approved of the kids growing up bilingual, the reality of being surrounded by foreigners 24/7 was beginning to grate on my nerves. Actually, everything in my life was growing intolerable. I felt emotionally withdrawn and retreated to my bedroom as often as possible. Noriko had the cribs in her room for convenience, which gave me a little breathing space, and I found myself pulling the covers over my head during the day, seeking the solace of sleep to escape this nightmare. The migraine pills became my panacea. I started out taking two a day, but soon I was taking four and even six when the noises in my head became unbearable. The same voices that were calling me a fool were now compelling me to end it all.
Cutting Cords Page 55
