by Eva Gill
Anya moaned softly against him and lifted her head to turn it toward him. “Is that ten?” she asked carefully, and he nodded.
She smiled. “Oh thank fuck. No more, please, I can’t.”
Jonah leaned over her, his jeans rubbing against the raw skin. “What’s your name?” he asked with a chuckle, and she burst into giggles.
“Hmph…” she muttered unintelligibly against the bed, as her hands curled into fists beside her face.
Jonah wiped her hair aside. “Now, I am going to fuck you.” He reached for his buckle to undo his jeans as the euphoric rush of what they had just done took a hold.
While he leaned against her, he freed his cock, which had been achingly erect since he laid the first cane stripe on her, and slid in one smooth movement into her soaking wet sex. Anya cried out under him, and Jonah saw stars, the sensation of their bodies skin on skin was so intense.
“Your pussy is so needy right now, perfectly ready for me after having your arse abused,” he murmured against her. He grasped her waist and raised himself to thrust roughly into her, and felt her sex tighten around him as she shook and trembled with her orgasm.
Jonah realised this was it, he was inside her and there were no barriers. They had both gone for standard STI tests shortly after she moved in, but he had been waiting for a special moment to do this. He stopped his movement, buried to the hilt in her, and coated in the liquid of their fucking.
“Anya, I am going to cum inside you tonight, fill you with my essence. You are mine after this, no other man will ever lay their hands on you again.”
He growled in her ear as she hollowed her back under him and replied, “I am yours, as you are mine, and have been for a while now, but this...” She pulled one of his hands to where she could kiss it.
With those words Jonah let go and emptied himself into her body.
“Mine, only mine,” he mouthed in her ear a last time.
***
After they’d both regained their senses and Jonah had carried Anya to their bedroom, he stood her up in the bathroom to remove the rest of her clothing, admiring the marks on her arse and thighs. There were welts from the heavy belt strap, stripes from the cane as well as small oval bruises from the crop.
“I think I did a fairly thorough job, for a first timer.” He turned her, to show her in the mirror.
Anya exhaled and ran a hand through her hair, pulling it into a rough bun on top of her head. “I’d say.”
Her skin stood red, welted and bruised from the top of her arse to the backs of her knees, and Jonah couldn’t have been happier. He frowned. “I am confused about why this sight makes me so happy. Seeing you so marked and bruised.” He walked her into the bathroom and turned on taps to run hot water into the large tub.
She sighed. “I am happy too. It’s just a more primal way of showing ownership, Jonah, let it be, and enjoy it without worrying. Liking this doesn’t make you a bad person, it’s consensual and enjoyed by me, too.”
He pulled her into his arms. “I love you, thank you for everything you’ve given me, Anya.”
As they stood engrossed in each other, the bath overflowed, but neither of them could be swayed from the object of their affection, the only other person in the room. The world vanished, and being held and holding was the only thing they cared about at that moment in time.
***
The weekend following the night in Jonah’s dungeon, there was a function to attend at The Realm, and Jonah stood with his hands in his pockets watching Anya as she dressed early in the evening. Her sapphire blue dress clung to every curve and accentuated the colour of her eyes. Heels graced her petite feet, and raised her to almost his height.
“It will be nice to see people more formally dressed, instead of naked,” Jonah said with relief, and she nodded, applying lipstick.
They were attending a cocktail party for members and non-members, a marketing gimmick for the club itself, to be used by the vanilla community on nights when it usually stood dark and dormant. It was a way for Realm members to meet new people, and a way of generating revenue for the business. Since the accident Alex had never let slip any details; the club had undergone a total makeover. Alex had refurbished the outside of the building, as well as making the inside a lot more non-kink friendly, with hidden doors and concealed staircases. Security was ramped up, and easily accessible parking was built for non-members.
There were also two new managers, one for BDSM events, and one for normal club nights: dancing, drinking and the things people normally got up to. The normal manager had been informed of BDSM activities, but was kept in the dark about The Realm. Jonah had watched Alex slowly withdraw from the social world, his presence more often than not lacking, and he knew something was up. The split from Anya had done something terrible to him, and left him broken.
It had been almost a year since Jonah had been initiated, and he enjoyed doing the accounting for the club. He marvelled on an almost constant basis at how much both he and his life had changed since that first terrifying night.
Anya walked up to him and kissed his cheek. “Shall we go? I don’t think we should be late.”
They drove in silence with Diana Krall playing in the background, singing ‘Let’s fall in love…’
Jonah smiled secretively, patting the pocket of his suit jacket to feel the ring box, snug, there.
Epilogue
Light and jazzy music played throughout the venue. Waiters, the slaves who usually wafted around in sheer garments and collars, walked gracefully between patrons holding trays of champagne and canapes. This evening they were dressed in slinky, black satin cocktail dresses and no collars were present. Instead, each wore a delicate silver ankle chain with an ornate padlock.
Jonah guided Anya to a spot on the dance floor and they swayed to the music, bodies pressing in on them from all around. He kissed her neck as she placed her head beside his.
“It’s so busy!” Anya said, bumped from behind by a boisterous young lady who immediately turned to apologise with a loud, “Sorry!”
Tonight was special for Jonah, and for Anya, he hoped. He had arranged a key for the basement dungeon, and now led Anya toward the newly concealed entrance to it. She frowned.
“Where are we going, Jonah?” she asked suspiciously.
He smiled as he turned to her. “Just trust me okay? Come!”
Candles burned all the way down the stairs and in the stone circle on the floor. She stared around her as he positioned her in the middle of the circle of light.
“Anya, I brought you here because this is where my life was forever changed.” Jonah stared around as he spoke and moved to pick up the silver chalice from a ceremonial table nearby. It was then Anya noticed Bartholomew in the shadows and curtsied to him politely. He merely inclined his head toward her with a slight smile in response.
Anya felt her panic rise as Jonah approached with the chalice, and produced a small dagger from his pocket. She recognised it as the ritual dagger of The Realm, used at initiations and collaring ceremonies, and her stomach twisted into knots as she watched Jonah prick his palm, allowing a few drops of his blood to run onto the silver, polished blade.
“I entered this basement as a stranger to myself and walked out into the world as a new man.” He stirred the blood into the chalice of wine, and she knew with certainty what he was going to ask. Claustrophobia overwhelmed her and she almost sank to her knees, but he reached for her shaking hand and supported her.
“It has been almost a year since I was last down here, and this time is different.” He set the chalice back on the table and took both her hands in his. “Anya, I don’t want a slave or submissive in you, I don’t want to put a collar around your neck and claim ownership. I want a life partner, someone equal to me, who chooses to enjoy the darker side of my needs and urges, as I do.”
He released one hand to reach into his suit pocket, and when he brought the hand out, he knelt in front of her. Tears filled Anya’s eyes and she claspe
d her hands over her mouth as he opened the box to reveal a shining diamond ring.
“Anya, will you be my wife, my equal, my partner, a lover who chooses to be, at times submissive and subservient, but always equal? Will you be the mother of my children? Share my life, please.”
He gazed at her with eyes so full of love she could only nod and try to mouth the word ‘yes’ incoherently through her tears. He smiled broadly and took the ring from the box to slip it onto her finger. When she looked down she noticed it was an intricate design, like a knotted rope studded with diamonds, set in Celtic knots.
Next, Jonah picked up the chalice and held it to her. “Bind yourself to me in every possible way, then, and drink of my blood.”
He handed it to her and watched as she sipped, then downed the contents before replying, “I am yours and you are in me, always.”
Bartholomew approached them and laid a hand on each’s shoulder. Kissing their cheeks one at a time he pronounced, “It is done, you are free of your bond to Alex. You two are now tied to each other.”
Jonah pulled Anya into his arms and kissed her passionately. Pulling away from her after a moment, he said, “Now we can begin our lives together.”
She smiled. Anya felt a mixture of regret for the pain Alex would feel, and ecstasy at the promise of the future. She tried to hide her emotions and caught Bartholomew’s head-shake as he left the chamber.
“What have we been doing up until now?” she asked, focusing her attention on Jonah.
He raised an eyebrow. “We have been writing the introduction to our story.”
He lifted her in his arms and spun her around as she giggled.
***
On the main floor Alex felt the disconnect as Anya severed her bond to him by drinking Jonah’s blood in her wine. It was a painful sensation, and he felt for a moment sick to his stomach, and doubled over. It was the last thing he had anticipated, even though he’d known it was coming, and he slammed his glass down on the counter to run from the room. He had been denying this to himself, always silently hoping Anya would come home to him. He ignored the stares of patrons and members of The Realm alike as he moved through the crowds.
He strode straight out of the club right then, without saying goodbye to a single person, and stood for a long time in the road. After a deep breath and loud exhale he climbed onto his bike, revved the engine and sped off into the dark. Alex had no idea where he was going, or how he would get there, but he needed to get away from her, from them, from his entire life. He had his passport and wallet in his pocket, and nothing else.
Alex only stopped once he got to the airport, and using internet banking, he cleared all but one of his accounts. He bought new clothing, dropped his suit in the trash, and walked straight to the Emirates flight counter.
“One ticket on your next flight to Dubai, please.”
The clarity that he needed to start a new life elsewhere hit him like a brick as he said this. It was not a temporary escape he had anticipated. Instead he knew that he’d be running from his own feelings forever.
Nobody ever saw him again in the United States, and his letter with the instructions for wrapping up his business was found the next morning, by the cleaning staff at the club.
