Bad Boy: You Are Not Alone

by Kelli Walker

  “Tina!?”

  Kevin’s voice rang up the hallway and something inside me relaxed. I closed my eyes and took a few deep breaths before I answered him because the words ringing in my ear told me there was a chance he would listen. He told me, before I fell asleep, that part of this process was communication so he could get a sense of what I liked and what I didn’t like.

  So, I just had to tell him that I didn’t want to be marked.

  It wasn’t that I didn’t enjoy being marked. The light bruise around my nipple pulled at the corners of my lips and the small teeth marks made my body shiver with memories, but I had no way to cover any of this up. Hiding my ankles would be easy, but hiding the shit on my wrists would take some serious work.

  And I had to meet my client first thing in the morning tomorrow.

  “Yeah?” I called out.

  “Dinner’s down here whenever you want some. Get dressed and come on down when you’re hungry.”

  “Yes, sir! Right on it, sir!”

  I know I’d said it mockingly, but something in my toes tingled when the word ‘sir’ fell from my lips. I flickered my gaze back to the mirror before I started cleaning myself up, and I realized halfway through that I was humming to myself.

  I never fucking hummed. What the hell was this?

  I threw my hair up into a bun as I made my way downstairs and the smells coming from the kitchen made me lightheaded with hunger. I strode in and sat down at the plate that already had a full glass of wine, and Kevin soon joined me at the table with the last plate of food.

  “Italian from up the road. Hope you don’t mind,” he said.

  “Would I have had a choice?” I asked, smirking.

  “Nope.”

  I dished up some food onto my plate while Kevin poured himself a glass of wine, but then he simply stared at me. I took the first few bites without wondering what was going on, but when my stomach was no longer trying to eat my intestines, I looked over at him. He was watching me from above his wine glass, the crimson liquid swirling slowly as he twirled it in his hand, and all I could do was stare at him before I blushed underneath his gaze.

  “I liked it when you called me ‘sir’ earlier,” he said.

  “Well, I liked it when you tied my body to the bed. So there,” I said.

  “Did you really enjoy that?” he asked.

  “I did, actually. Yes.”

  “Was there anything you didn’t enjoy?” he asked.

  “Maybe you should sit down for this conversation. Eat with me, maybe?” I asked. “I mean, only if you’re hungry.”

  “I’ll eat when I’m ready. What didn’t you enjoy? Did I hurt you?” he asked.

  “Oh, no. God, no. I just-”

  “Tina,” he implored. “Talk with me.”

  “It’s just weird. You, standing over there, staring at me. It’s weird. Just… odd.”

  “Does it make you uncomfortable?” he asked.

  “A bit. Please, just-... I know you’re a dom, but just this once, please sit down,” I said.

  He walked over to the table and sat in front of me, and all of a sudden I felt like I was on trial. My heart rate sped up and my wine glass trembled in my hand, and all of the things I wanted to tell him got caught in my throat. I coughed, trying to get the knot out, but all I did was drop my wine glass in my lap before it crashed to the ground.

  “Oh, my god!” I exclaimed.

  And Kevin rushed to my side before I had a chance to move my chair.

  Chapter 25

  I knew something was off with Tina as I stared at her from above my wine glass. The way she was moving and the way her eyes avoided mine was a great shift from what I had originally encountered, and I knew if we were going to do this right she had to talk with me. Body language was only part of this journey, and if she didn’t want to continue, then that was fine.

  All she needed to do was tell me.

  “A bit. Please, just-... I know you’re a dom, but just this once, please sit down.”

  Something in her voice caused me to relent. I wasn’t one for taking orders from anyone, but anything that made her comfortable I was more than willing to do. I could see her visibly trembling, her wine glass clattering between her fingertips, and I became petrified that I had hurt her somehow. Maybe I pounded into her hips a bit too hard or strapped her down a bit too tight. Maybe she had come to her senses and was suddenly scared of me and this side I had exposed to her, and if she was afraid then I needed to know.

  I needed to know so I could tuck it back away.

  But, before I knew it her wine glass went tumbling to the ground. It crashed, spewing glass pieces and red wine all over the floor. For the first time in my life, I heard Tina shriek, and the sound raked down my ears as I rushed to her side.

  The blood running down the palm of her hand caught me off-guard, and I smoothed my fingertips over her trembling forearm before I hooked my eyes onto her.

  “Tina, I need you to take deep breaths,” I said. Her breathing was ragged and tears were cresting the folds of her eyes, and before I could make anymore movements-- before I could clean her up-- I had to make sure she was stable enough for me to move.

  My hands slid to her thighs, massaging them deeply while the shivering ricocheted all along her body. It started with her fingertips and percolated up her arms, but when it rushed down her back it jiggled her legs as tears flopped onto the fabric covering her chest.

  “Just take deep breaths,” I said with a whisper. My heart was pounding against my chest, screaming out in horror at what was going on in her mind. I had pushed her too hard. I introduced too much and went too fast, and now I had damaged and hurt the only thing in my life that made sense. Ever since college, Tina was always the one that got away. The ice queen everyone thought her to be was simply a ruse she allowed me to see through in college. I drank up every inch of her before she lost herself in the alcohol she consumed, and I would do anything I had to do now in order to get us back on track.

  To get us back to the ecstasy we had felt in bed together earlier today.

  “Tina, can you hear me? Nod if you can hear me,” I said. I watched her nod while her watery gaze hooked onto mine, and by the time I got her to actually answer me the blood from her hand was trickling onto her legs.

  “Stay here. I’m gonna go get a mop and a first aid kit. You’ve really hurt yourself, and I need to clean it up and see if you need stitches.”

  She nodded in response and I scrambled for the first aid kit. I had to mop up the wine and move the glass before I could really take a look at her hand, so I moved the mess into a corner of the kitchen. The shattered glass sparkled from the corner, taunting me with its jokes and wisecracks while I grabbed the kit off the counter. Tina’s shaking had died down but her breaths were still coming in short spurts, so I did the only thing I knew would calm her down in that moment.

  I started singing her to while I cleaned her hand.

  “Hush now baby don’t you cry. Rest your wings my butterfly. Peace will come to you in time, and I will sing this lullaby.”

  I cleaned her hand off with gauze soaked in alcohol before I wiped at the fresh blood rising to the top with an alcohol wipe. The cut wasn’t deep enough for her to need stitches, but I would still have to close it with butterfly bandages before I wrapped her hand up. It would take awhile to heal and Tina wasn’t the most graceful person, so the butterfly bandages would keep it closed while the gauze soaked up any impact that might occur.

  “No, though I must leave, my child-”

  Her hand tensed around mine and my eyes whipped up to hers. Panic set in and her breathing began to pick up, and the lyrics of the song wafted through my head.

  “I’m not leaving you. It’s just the song,” I said soothingly.

  She nodded, dropping her eyes back down to her palm, and we both sat in silence while I closed up her palm and wrapped it in gauze. Her crying had stopped, her shivers were gone, and her breathing had finally come back down to normal.
The panicked, fearful woman that had come down the stairs was replaced with a Tina I recognized: a tired, stressed out Tina who seemed a bit lost.

  “I’m sorry for breaking your glass,” she finally said.

  “Don’t be silly. I’ve got plenty of them,” I said.

  “But, that was one of your good crystal ones.”

  “Obviously not good enough if it shattered that easily,” I said.

  I brought her hand to my lips after I’d wrapped it and I planted a small kiss into her palm. I stood from my seated position and sat down in the chair behind me, then I raised my hand to cup her cheek before I asked the ultimate question.

  “What did you not like?”

  She pulled away from my hand and sighed, leaning back into her chair. She turned her head to look out the window, her eyes dancing along the foliage outside, and I could tell she was thinking. She was probably trying to figure out how to break it to me easily, or phrase it in a way that wouldn’t hurt my feelings.

  But, all I wanted her to do was spit it out.

  “You don’t have to spare my feelings, Tina. It’s just me,” I said.

  “I can’t be visibly marked for work,” she said.

  “What?” I asked.

  She held her wrists up before she threw an ankle onto my leg, and that’s when I got my first glimpse at just how easy it was to mark her skin. The angry red marks that ricocheted around her wrist and ankle bones were very prominent, and I realized that part of her panic was the fact that she didn’t know how to cover them up.

  “Shit,” I said, whispering. “Tina, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  “You know I can’t be marked. Not when I’m here working. Like, screw what the fuck we just did. That’s always been a rule with me. You know how demanding my job is, especially with me being a woman in DC. The fuck, dude?”

  “I swear to you, it won’t happen again,” I said.

  “It’s not that I don’t like the marks,” she said. I could see her fingertips dancing along the marks almost like a delicate new toy she had discovered. Her eyes fluttered to her ankles while she rolled her feet, and it was almost as if she was admiring how they looked on her skin.

  And I had to admit, my gut tugged a bit at the sight of them.

  “You said you can’t be marked visibly. As in, you don’t want to be marked at all?” I asked. “Or, just not marked where you can’t cover it up with clothes?”

  “The latter,” she said.

  “I need you to say it, Tina.”

  “Kevin-”

  “Verbal communication is important with this, Tee. Saying it out loud helps you to process. Hearing yourself say it helps to either reinforce the truth inwardly or aids in the recoil reaction against it. I don’t want you to simply agree, I want you to say it so I can watch your reaction saying it.”

  “Odd,” she said.

  “Just… indulge me,” I said.

  “Fine. I don’t want to be marked where it can’t be covered up with clothes.”

  “How did that feel to say?” I asked.

  “It’s a rule we’ve always had. I feel no different,” she said, shrugging.

  “Alright. It’ll never happen again. Now, are you interested in knowing how I get rid of them?”

  “You have something to help?” she asked.

  I reached into the first aid kit and pulled out a bit of cooling ointment.

  “This was introduced to me by my first partner. She both dominated me and was my submissive so I could get a sense of what I enjoyed, and she put this on my wrists after we were done with my sub session,” I said.

  “I take it you didn’t like that?” she asked.

  “Not a damn bit. Did you?”

  I looked up into her eyes while I rubbed the cool ointment onto her wrists, and she held my gaze for quite some time. I could tell she was wracking her brain while I massaged the goopy substance into her wrists, and it wasn’t until I beckoned for her ankles that she answered.

  “Honestly? I kind of did, yeah.”

  “Would it be something you wanted to try again?” I asked.

  “I mean, what else is there to try?” she asked.

  “Oh, Tina,” I said, chuckling. “You haven’t even breached the tip of it yet.”

  “Sounds kinky,” she said, smirking. “But, on a serious note: yes. I trust you, and as long as we stick to this rule we now have, I’d be alright with… exploring some more, I guess.”

  “You guess?” I asked.

  “Kev-... Lord. Yes. Yes, I would be alright with exploring.”

  “I know it’s tiring for you, but it’s important, especially in the early stages. And there’s something I need you to understand.”

  I put her foot down and took her hands within mine before I pulled her close. I could feel her breath on my lips and I had to resist the urge to capture them within mine, but as my eyes found hers I knew I had her full attention.

  “Not taking your job into consideration while we were exploring was a mistake on my part as your teacher and dom. And it will never happen again. Can you forgive me?” I asked.

  “I thought doms never apologized,” she said, grinning.

  “Alright. This stops here and now,” I said. “Tina, I need you to hear me when I tell you this, because I don’t think it’s sinking in very well because of the jokes you’re making. A true dominant with his true submissive is not an overbearing, abusive, commanding general who expects you to jump when they say so. Now, I know these jokes you make to distance yourself from this emotional experience come from a real place. A place that has been under the thumb of overbearing people who simply expected you to blindly obey whatever it is they asked of you. That is not me, it has never been me, and it never will be me. If there is ever a moment where you feel that is happening, there’s a safe word. And what’s what safe word?”

  “Pineapple,” she said.

  “Exactly. You hold so much more power than you realize in a dynamic like this. Understand that, okay?”

  “Okay,” she said.

  At that moment, Tina’s stomach growled out into the kitchen. She blushed with embarrassment and I couldn’t contain my grin as the smells of dinner continued to waft around our heads, and I reached over and grabbed a breadstick before I put it against her lips.

  “Take a bite,” I said.

  She eyed me carefully before she parted her lips, and the hum that rose from her throat when the salted garlic goodness hit her tongue caused me to shudder. Her eyes fluttered closed and she relished in how good it tasted while I watched her chew and swallow her food. Tina really was the only woman I would ever consider doing this full-time with, and the fact that she was still on board even after everything that just happened further proved to me we were on the right track.

  That I was taking this at a pace that was comfortable, even though this was all new to her.

  “Will you eat with me?” she asked.

  “Of course. Would you like another glass of wine?” I asked.

  “I would love one. And I won’t drop it this time.”

  “Like I said, not a problem. I got plenty of glasses,” I said.

  Chapter 26

  Tina

  Kevin sat another glass of wine in front of me and I took it greedily. I chugged half the glass before his ass hit the seat in front of me, and he filled my glass back to the top without me having to ask. My nerves were shot and my body was still exhausted, but the insecure feelings and the questions were slowly fading into the back of my mind. I woke up refreshed and ready to go, but I was now confused as to why Kevin’s stare had been so unnerving. It had kicked up a side of me I hadn’t felt since I was a child, and part of me was wondering if I should continue this journey.

  I had built my own business, taken on my first full-time employee, and still had time to travel and do whatever the fuck I wanted to, but Kevin’s stare had reduced me to nothing more than a quivering woman who wanted to…

  To…

  To make him happy.
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br />   Like some little housewife whose sole purpose was to make her husband smile.

  But, the way Kevin tended to me had a sensual tone to it. The way he massaged my thighs, trying to get me to settle down even though he had no idea what was going on, was almost loving. He genuinely cared about every part of me before, during, and after our sexual encounter, and there was a part of me that wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

  Honestly? Just about all of me wasn’t ready to give that up yet.

  “What’s on your mind?” he asked.

  “What other things are there to try?” I asked.

  I looked up and saw his gaze heat up, and I knew in that moment I’d broached a subject that would put a pin in dinner and pause it in its place. He grabbed his wine glass and leaned back into the chair, fixating that same stare onto me dawned earlier.

  The difference was I was no longer shaking underneath it. I was genuinely curious, and I wanted genuine answers.

  “Are you sure you’re alright to have this conversation?” he asked.

  “I wouldn’t of asked if I wasn’t,” I said.

  “Because it’s a great deal. And I can only talk you through the things I enjoy doing, because even doms have hard limits.”

  “So, there are things you don’t like,” I said.

  “Yep.”

  “Like what?”

  “Do you want the things I like or don’t like?” he asked.

  “Both?”

  “Alright, the things I don’t like: knife play, blood play, electric play, any other bodily fluid or waste play, voyeurism, third party play, threesomes, or switch play.”

  “Uh huh…” I said.

  “Do any of those need defining?” he asked.

  “Does it matter if you don’t like them?” I threw back.

  “I suppose not. Interested in what I do like?”