I want that.
And I want Stella to teach me how to achieve that balance between heaven and hell.
With a new found hope of freedom I go to the bathroom and look at the fragmented man that stares back at me in the mirror.
He looks like me, he moves like I do and he even has that sadness in his eyes. We stand face to face and both of us know that our worlds will never be the same again, all thanks to a woman who’s willing to save us.
I outstretch my arms in front of me, and lean them on the vanity. I duck my head down and try to calm my rapid breath.
I can do this.
I can walk out of this bathroom and not be ashamed and embarrassed. This may very well be the beginning of silencing the black monsters that lurk and remind me how deeply wrecked I am.
Leaving the bathroom, I strip off entirely and rest my clothes on Stella’s bed. Quietly, but with knots in my stomach I pad toward the dungeon door.
When I get there, I kneel in ready position as I’ve been instructed by my Master.
I’m not sure how long I’ve been waiting, but I haven’t moved a damn inch.
If Stella’s watching me then I want her pleased and proud of me, so I remain as still as I possibly can.
To distract myself from the nerves I begin to count the seconds in my head. As I count I find that my body starts to calm. I’m not as nervous and I’m looking forward to letting go.
When I get to 306 I hear a clicking sound.
The sound’s distant but getting closer and I realize that it’s my Master in heels. But I don’t dare move a muscle.
My heart starts pounding and my blood’s rushing violently fast through my veins. I can feel the thrill and excitement and the sheer terror of the unknown.
Her clicks get louder until I hear her stop in front of me.
She taps her foot on the ground directly above my head.
“Seems my toy is ready,” she says in the sexiest voice I’ve ever heard. My damn cock was already hard, but now he’s tormenting me by leaking a little cum on my thighs.
My Master pets my head slowly, moving her hand down my back. A trail of heat follows her touch and I will myself not to look up at her and show her how much I want her.
“Is my toy ready to play?” my Master asks me.
Fucking yeah I’m ready.
“Yes,” I moan. Before I know it I get a hard swat with something on my ass. Shit, it stings and I’m sure it’s going to leave a mark.
“Yes, what?” she says with an angry tone.
I forgot to call her Master.
“Yes, Master.”
“Next time you forget your place, slave, then I’ll use a paddle. It won’t be for your pleasure either, it’ll be for your punishment.”
I best remember to call her Master or I fear I won’t be able to sit on my butt for a week.
“I’m going to open the door to the dungeon and you may crawl over to the whipping bench. There’s a mat waiting for you there, I want you in ready position. Do you understand?”
“Yes, Master.” I added the master as quickly as I could this time.
“Keep your head at a position where you can only see where you’re going, you’re not permitted to look at me,” Master issues my instructions.
I hear the door open and my Master step inside the room.
“You may enter.”
I lift my head slightly and start to crawl into the dungeon.
Damn, I chance a small sideways look and see my Master has black stilettos on with black stockings.
I thought that was a cliché image people get in their heads, but I don’t fucking care how tacky anyone thinks it is, she looks sexy as sin. And the only thing I can see is her damn footwear and legs.
As I crawl past her she flicks me once more with whatever she has in her hand and it stings, again.
“I told you not to look at me, boy.” I falter and wince at the name she’s called me.
Okay, calm down Ryan. Stella’s not him.
I can do this.
It’s just a name. It can’t hurt me.
I keep crawling to the spot she wants me in and I do exactly as I’ve been instructed by my Master.
When I sit back on my heels and I lower my head, I’m ready to please my Master.
“You’re very arousing sitting there waiting for me. I can feel myself getting extremely wet. Would you like a taste of my pussy, boy?”
I feel my shoulders tense up and my breathing intensifies when she repeats that word.
“Yes, Master.” My voice comes out small and scratchy.
She’s going to be able to tell that something’s off.
Snap out of it Ryan, it’s only a fucking word.
“Boy,” she repeats as I hear her take a step back.
This time my hands ball into fists and I can feel my forearms start to ache from how tight my body’s wound.
Stop, please don’t call me that. I silently scream in my head to my Master.
“Do you like to fuck me with your mouth, boy?” he says.
“No,” I whisper in a tiny voice.
“I need lube, Damien. His ass is too tight.” His friend chuckles.
“Please,” I whimper. “Please don’t do this.”
I can feel them. I can smell the onion and beer blending together. I can hear them laughing.
“Spread your cheeks, boy. Now, let him fuck you hard and stop your crying.”
“It hurts,” I cry out from the pain.
“Ryan.”
No, I can’t do this.
I can’t take it.
He has to go away.
Get out of my head.
Get out of my fucking head!
“Ryan.” I hear someone calling me.
“Please Damien, set me free.”
Every single muscle in my body is burning from seizing up.
“Ryan,” someone says again. Whoever it is I won’t let them touch me, again.
“Come on, boy; make those noises so we know you like it.”
Stop, please I can’t take it.
“Be a good little boy or next time I’ll bring more friends.”
You can’t break me anymore.
“Ryan.” I hear it again. They say my name, not boy.
“I’m nothing but a lifeless shell. Just leave,” I plead.
“Now open your mouth so we can fill it.”
No more.
I’m older now and I can defend myself.
I push them away from me and they go scampering across the floor.
“I fucking told you to leave me alone, Damien!” I scream as I look across at him.
But it’s not Damien’s evil eyes I see.
I’m met with bewildered and concerned green orbs.
Fuck.
What have I done?
“I can’t do this, Stella. I’m sorry,” I admit to her as I push up and hastily leave her dungeon.
“Ryan, don’t walk away. Talk to me, what the hell just happened?”
I try to get back to Stella’s room without her following me. But she’s right behind me and not letting up.
“Stop and talk to me,” she says in a pleading voice.
“I can’t, I’m sorry,” I growl at her as I start putting my clothes on.
“Is Damien the man that abused you?”
Fuck. She knows because I’ve said too much.
I still as I do the buttons of my jeans up.
Fuck me.
Why? Why does it have to happen? Why does she have to be here?
I’ll just go home and slide back into my darkness.
To the bleak of my mind and the black of my soul. To the demons that consume every illuminated part of me.
“I can’t, Stella.” I sit on the edge of her bed and bury my head in my hands.
I hear her stand in front of me and she begins to caress my head and neck, allowing me time to think.
“You can’t save me, Stella.”
“You’re right, I can’t. Only you
can save yourself. But, I want to be here to help.”
“I’m dead.”
“No you’re not, you’re hurting. How old were you?” she asks as her hands tenderly smooth over my shoulders.
“I can’t,” I whisper again.
“Talk to me, tell me what happened.” Stella pauses, “You promised that you’ll never lie to me.” She takes a step closer and I relax my arms by my legs.
She pushes between my knees and I lean my head against her stomach, finding her body comforting.
“He killed me,” I admit. “He wrecked me and then left me to drag my lifeless body toward the gates of hell.”
Stella’s next words crumble me to a pile of tears and a heap of sorrow.
“It was never your fault, Ryan.”
No, no, I can’t be here.
She’s saying things she doesn’t understand.
I’ll hurt her.
Get out Ryan. Run.
I stand up hastily and grab my t-shirt and my bag. I don’t even bother with shoes. Fuck them, I’ve got more at home.
“Don’t go,” she commands.
He’ll always be a part of me, he’ll always be in my head.
He’s so deeply ingrained that I’ll never rid the devil that consumes me.
I can’t do this, I can’t do it to her.
Not Stella.
“I have to go,” I say as I push past her and run for my car.
“I won’t open the gate,” Stella says in her Masters voice.
I turn around and look at her. Her green eyes are begging me not go and to stay with her.
Her troubled face is etched with concern and panic.
I just have to get out of here. Lie to her Ryan. Just go, never come back.
I’ll destroy her the way he shattered me.
I tenderly grab her head between my palms and kiss her on the lips.
“Let me go, Stella. I need some space to make sense of this. Please.”
She’s shaking her head no.
I press another kiss to her mouth, and she tries to deepen it but I can’t find the life in me to give her what she wants.
“I’ll call you in the morning, but please.” I pause as I kiss her again. “Just let me go.”
I can see it in her eyes, she doesn’t want me to leave.
But she nods once and expels a large whoosh of air.
“If you don’t call me by 9am, I’m coming to look for you.”
I kiss her once more, and turn to leave.
This will be the last time I’ll ever see Stella.
I won’t give her nightmares because of my demons.
“Goodbye, Stella,” I say in a small voice as I drive out of her gates and head straight to the nearest liquor store.
Chapter 17
Armed with three bottle of Jack I drive into the parking area of Holiday Inn. I sit in my car and think about the name.
Fucking holiday my ass.
I’m looking to escape my life with my best friend, the ally I’d pushed to the back of my cupboard because I was tricked into thinking I no longer need him.
He’s my true confidant. He doesn’t judge, he doesn’t look at me with sorrow in his eyes.
And his stare doesn’t envelop my evil and try to rip it out.
Like she does.
Stella doesn’t even realize the impact she’s already made, the way she can see straight through my blackened soul and the way I want her to save me.
But I can’t destroy her sun by having my darkness eclipse her.
I’m beyond salvation.
No one can expel the hurt, only my best friend, Jack.
I grab my friends and waltz into the reception area of the Holiday Inn.
There’s a cute little red head at the counter and her eyes light up the moment I approach her.
“Good evening, sir.”
“Hi there, have you got a room available for tonight?” I ask as she flutters her eye lids at me.
You can’t help me, don’t bother trying.
There’s no one that can lift my heavy limbs or can make my deadened body feel anything other than dissolution.
“Let me have a look,” she starts.
Her fingers tap away on the keyboard and within seconds she shows me her pearly whites.
“We do, is it only for tonight?”
“At this stage.”
Just give me the key so Jack and I can resume our friendship.
“We have a suite available or we have a standard…” I cut her off.
I just need to get to my room and erase my life.
“Standard’s fine,” I say and slide my credit card over to her.
“Alone?” She bats her fucking eye lids again.
“Yes, and unless you’re bourbon I’m not interested.”
Or Stella.
“I’m sorry, sir, I didn’t mean anything by it,” she murmurs all embarrassed.
“Then don’t do that thing with your eyes. It’s annoying.”
“Oh, I just thought-“
“Don’t, just please give me the key.” Doesn’t she get it? I just want to drag my burdensome body into the room and not have any interruptions.
Silently she goes about booking the room. When she finishes she slides my credit card back with the plastic room key.
“Room 147, go to the first floor then turn left,” she says without meeting my gaze.
I take the elevator up to the first floor and find my room. It’s comfortable, nothing over the top.
There’s a bed, an arm chair, a bar fridge, a bathroom and a phone on the desk. I don’t need anything more than that for tonight.
I get a tumbler from next to the bar fridge and fill it to the top with my savior.
He never disappoints and he’s always been so good to me.
I sit in the arm chair and bring the tumbler up to my nose, fuck he smells awesome. His smokiness teases me and entices me to gulp him down, but I need to feel his burn and full robust flavor as I find my saving grace in him. He allows my weighted frame to collapse and forget.
Slowly I bring him to my mouth and let his sting coat my lips. With a small taste I let the zest begin to reacquaint itself with the inside of my throat. With the first sip my body buzzes with anticipation of being rewarded with more. It screams for extra and I don’t deny the hefty load of my body the comfort it wants.
There’re no buoys available, there’s nothing to save me, just let me drown.
“Old friend, it’s good to have you back,” I say as I let out an appreciative moan.
As I continue to drink from the tumbler, my mind remains free from all thoughts.
It’s black and it’s dead.
Something I know all too well.
When I reach the end of the tumbler, I stare down at it trying to convince myself that I drank it all without so much of a nightmare screaming at me.
I pour another glass and start to drink it like I guzzle water from my sports bottle.
Looking around the darkened room only lit by the smallest of lights, I finally, after all these years get it.
I’m not worth it.
He killed me when I was ten, and I should’ve remained in the buried coffin and not fought my way out.
I fucking hate you.
You did this, you ruined me, and you keep destroying me. You fucking cunt, I hope you fucking die. I want you to die and I want you to feel like I do. I want you to be consumed by the hate and the shame. You deserve every breath to be filled with venom and every action to be agonizing.
I hate you.
You made me hate myself.
I’m disgusting.
I should’ve ended it all when I was old enough to understand that I could easily do that.
The nights blend and the days seem endless and I can’t keep living a life like this.
I’ve only ever been just a boy to him, and now I’m nothing more than the same to Stella.
I’m nothing.
I’m so worthless.
He di
dn’t want me, and now she knows what he did to me, she’ll only think I’m broken and not worthy of her.
I can’t help but agree with her.
I’m dead.
I don’t deserve to live.
Breathing is reserved for those that bring value to people around them. I only bring a stark melancholy mixed with depression and dread.
I hate you with every part of me, I hate you with intensity and I hate you with hate.
Emptying the rest of the first bottle into my glass I respect Jack and the company he keeps.
He’s my friend and he loves me.
He’s the only one who understands me and he’s the only one I’m worthy of loving.
My throat tightens and a lump finds its way to the pit of my stomach. There’s nothing left for me here.
I’m so alone.
And I’m so fucking broken that I can never be made whole.
Damien, you’ve won.
Chapter 18
My clouded mind forces me to open an eye. I try to focus but all I can see is grey. Blinking a few times I regain my vision and notice I’m lying stomach down on the ground.
Where am I?
What time is it?
The phone on the table’s insistently ringing and it alerts me that I’m not actually at home. I sit up on the floor and look around.
Two empty bottles lay beside me and a third partially consumed is sitting next to the phone without a lid on. The glass I’ve been drinking from lays in pieces in the corner of the room.
Did I do that?
What the hell happened here?
My cell starts ringing from somewhere inside the room, I get up and look for it and find it in the bathroom.
I look at the screen and see Stella’s tried calling me, there’re twenty-seven missed calls from her. There’re several text messages and countless voice messages from her, too.
I hit delete without listening or reading them.
When I look at the time it’s after 11am and I know I’ll need to see the Commander because I’ve failed to report today. And I don’t fucking care.
I’ll deal with that tomorrow, I’ll deal with everything tomorrow. I just need today to decide where exactly my pitiful life is headed.
I grab the last of the bottles and tip it down the drain, and discard the two empty ones in the rubbish.
A lifetime of drinking has seen me perfect my benders to one contained day.
Grabbing my car keys I head down to the reception area and I’m met with a different young lady.
Yes, Master Page 11
