Elena is waiting outside my apartment and she looks fucking pissed. Good. It’s important to start as I mean to go on.
“You’re late,” she snarls as I walk towards her.
“And?” I say calmly.
She blinks up at me. “I don’t do waiting,” she says, the strain in her voice obvious.
“And yet it appears you do, Elena.”
She looks shocked. I decide to clarify the situation for her.
“I’m not subbing for you anymore. Remember? You’re at my apartment: so it’s my rules once you cross my threshold. You want to play, baby, I’m in control.”
Her expression changes to amusement.
“You’re serious about that?”
She pauses for a moment, considering.
“Are you going to invite me in? Sir?”
Excitement ignites my blood and my cock twitches with anticipation. And I want to fuck her right here, right now. Up against the wall. I want her to feel the brickwork on her skin, on her face, as I fuck her hard from behind.
Instead I maintain control: this is all about control. I’m the fucking master of control: of myself and now of her. I open the door to my apartment block and gesture for her to walk ahead of me. She enters, her eyes downcast. It’s such a fucking trip having her here like this. But I don’t want to get ahead of myself: I want to make this last – I want her to beg. And there’s the anger again: raw and hot. I don’t just want to hurt her, I want to debase her, humiliate her. I know this isn’t the proper Dom/sub relationship; no, this is Elena. And I owe her.
I walk behind her into my apartment, planning our first scene. It’s a pity I don’t have any way of suspending her; I’d like to fuck her mouth while she’s blindfolded like that. On the other hand, I picked up some supplies from a hardware outlet on the way home: masking tape, rope, cable ties, Velcro and some of those thin garden canes that people use to prop up… I don’t know, shit in the garden. I’m improvising, ok?! But I’m really going to have to build up my own collection. Handcuffs – something about all the symbolism that comes with them: that’s a real turn on.
I see her looking around my apartment. I know there’s not much here, but her look of pity really makes me pissed. I slap her ass hard and she jumps.
“Eyes down!” I hiss.
She obeys immediately. Yes, baby. Get used to it.
“You’re wearing too many clothes,” I mutter. “Strip. Slowly. Keep your eyes down.”
I lean back on my bed and watch her.
She shrugs out of her coat and drops it on the floor. Then she eases off her shoes and unzips her skirt, kicking it away from her. Mmm, she’s wearing stockings. I think she can leave those on. But she knows my tastes so well, and she doesn’t touch them. Instead her hands move to her soft, peach colored shirt. She pulls the fabric so it’s sheer against her, showing her nipples are growing hard.
The shirt flutters to the floor and her sensational body is slowly revealed. She unhooks her bra and drops one shoulder at a time, letting it fall on top of her shirt. She peels her panties down her thighs and steps out of them when they pool at her feet.
It’s cool in the apartment and a shiver runs through her. Don’t worry, Elena, I’ll warm you up.
I’ve grown hard watching her. And even though we’ve played this scene a thousand times with her in charge, this feels natural. Yes, this is me: in control. It’s where I want to be; it’s where I need to be.
She walks towards me, her eyes still downcast, but I sense her excitement – the thrill of the unknown. She knows I want to hurt her – I need to hurt her and that turns me on. Two sick fucks together – we’re made for each other.
I stand up quickly and I’m pleased that she takes a sudden step away from me. Yes, you should be scared. I take off my jacket then throw it on the bed.
“Undo my tie.”
She reaches for the knot at my throat and gently loosens it, sliding the silky material out from under my collar.
“Now use it to blindfold yourself.”
She obeys immediately, fumbling slightly with the knot at the back.
Depriving someone of vision makes them more vulnerable; it forces them to rely on their other senses.
“Hands in front.”
I fasten them together at the wrist with thin masking tape. She’ll be wearing bracelets for a week to cover the welts I marks to leave.
“Spread your legs.”
She obeys. It’s uncomfortable to stand like that for long periods. I know.
I undo my shirt and walk over to the small bathroom to toss it in the linen basket. Then I stroll back into the main room, my shoes loud on the bare wood floor. I kick them off and pull off my socks. She’ll have to work harder now to hear me. I slide off my suit trousers and walk back towards her.
I pull her hands onto me, forcing them into my boxer briefs.
“I really think you should do some of the work now, Elena.”
She reaches in, hindered slightly by the masking tape and fastens both hands over me gripping tightly. Slowly, she moves her hands up and down my length and my body tenses with pleasure.
I step away from her and pull off my boxer briefs. It feels good to be free of all restraint and I enjoy the fridge-like atmosphere of my apartment. It feels right for this. Besides, I intend to work up a sweat no matter what the temperature in here.
I reach round her and pull both her nipples hard. Her body convulses almost uncontrollably. I run my fingernails down her chest and across her stomach, leaving faint marks.
Without warning I push her onto my bed. Because it’s a futon, it’s lower than she’s expecting and she cries out. She’s half kneeling, half lying across the bed. I slap her hard on her ass.
“I didn’t give you permission to make a noise.”
She’s silent immediately.
I shove two fingers up inside her and she moans with pleasure. I slap her again, harder.
Sucking my fingers I wander over to fetch my garden cane. It makes a pleasing sound as it whistles through the air. Improvisation has its benefits.
“Ask me, Elena.”
“Cane me, sir, please.”
“How hard, Elena?”
“Very hard, please, sir.”
“You want me to hurt you?”
“Yes, sir. A lot.”
The cane whistles down on her and I see her body jerk but she doesn’t make a sound. I spread the blows across both ass cheeks and down her thighs. I can see the welts start to make a pattern over her tanned flesh. Fuck, I love the way that looks. And I lose myself in the patterns the way some people find pictures in clouds.
It doesn’t take long before I’m beginning to sweat freely and I’m so turned on I’m in a sort of frenzy. I barely hear her whisper.
“Yellow, Christian, please!”
It takes a few seconds for the words to reach my saturated brain.
“Please, sir!” she whispers again.
And then I’m on my knees behind her fucking her hard, making her raw ass sing with pain. Again and again I pour all my frustration and pain and hurt into this one debasing act. Then I pull her upright, forcing her against the naked brick of the apartment’s wall, pressing her face, her chest onto the cold surface. She gasps and I pick up the pace. She comes quietly, clenching around me but I keep going until my climax takes me and I collapse, forcing her down to the floor.
I pull out of her quickly and I feel her wince.
“Kneel up,” I say softly.
She struggles up, hindered by her fastened wrists.
“You’ve made me all dirty, Elena. Now you’re going to make me all clean. Suck me.”
She finds my tamed erection, slick with her own climax, and she puts me in her mouth and sucks hard. God, I love being sucked when I’ve just come – it feels like I’m being pulled inside out. It’s a total mindfuck.
I feel myself building again and I flex my hips further into her throat. When she swallows I step back from her and pull my tie off her eyes.
Her eyelids flutter as she blinks in the sudden light. I can’t find any scissors so I use a kitchen knife to free her hands.
She smiles up at me.
“How was that for your first time, Christian?” she says slyly.
I raise my eyebrows in question.
“Your first time being a Dom?”
Her question makes me smile and I see her frown as comprehension dawns.
“You’ve done this before? When?”
Her tone is almost hurt and I laugh out loud. “None of your fucking business, Elena.”
I find a T-shirt and my sweatpants and open a bottle of white wine chilled from the fridge, offering her a glass.
“No, I have to get back or Linc will wonder where I’ve been.” She frowns.
“He’ll guess when he sees your ass,” I tease her.
She smiles serenely. “Do you think I let that weak fucker anywhere near me? Our marriage has only lasted as long as it has because we both seek pleasures beyond the marital bed. Thank Christ. As long as we keep up appearances outside…”
“So he knows?”
“Not everything. Don’t worry, Christian. Your little secret is safe with me.”
Her tone makes me want to pick up the cane again but I want her gone: I really need to work now.
“Where does he think you are?” I ask, with faint interest.
She rolls her eyes. “At a fundraiser committee evening.”
“I can’t believe he fell for that; it’s hardly your scene, is it?”
“Actually I did go for an hour,” she says. “It was at your mother’s. I thought Grace looked very well. She misses you.”
I tense and she laughs. She knows that I hate her talking about my family when we’re like this: sated from our sick pleasures. But now I can do something about it.
“If you ever, ever mention my family again, I will whip you and fuck you until you can’t stand.”
I speak quietly, my voice controlled. She’s overstepped the mark.
I hear the intake of breath as she processes my words and my tone.
“I think you’d better go now, Elena.”
“You want me to leave?”
She pulls on her clothes quickly.
She leaves without speaking again. And I’m glad. I want my apartment to myself. I need the peace that a solitary life offers.
I open my laptop. The ROI forecast is improving already.
It’s Tuesday afternoon when I get a call on my cell phone from my mom.
“Christian, darling. I’m so sorry to bother you… at work. But… can you speak now?”
“It’s not a great time, mom, I’m pretty busy.”
“I know, darling, but… look, I have some bad news…”
My breath catches in my throat. “Is dad…?”
“No, nothing like that. Your father’s fine: Elliot’s fine, Mia’s fine, my parents are fine. It’s Elena Lincoln… I know you were fond of her that summer you worked for her. I thought you’d like to know…”
“Elena? Mrs Lincoln? What about her?”
“She… she had some sort of accident last night. She’s in hospital. It’s pretty bad.”
“A car accident?”
“Well, no, but I don’t know all the details but your father is with her now.”
I’m confused. “Why is dad with her?”
“Because,” I hear her soft sigh, “because she’s been beaten – badly assaulted. We believe she knows the assailant. Your father is trying to persuade her to press charges.” She pauses. “I… I just thought you’d want to know.”
I don’t know what to say. Then mom is speaking again.
“We all miss you, Christian, your dad most of all. Please say you’ll come and see us soon. Please, darling.”
“Ok. I’ll… I’ll drive over later,” I say automatically.
“Will you, darling? Oh, your father will be so thrilled. So will Mia. Tonight, then, Christian?”
“Yes, later, mom.”
She hangs up and I’m left staring at my cell phone.
Elena. Oh, Christ.
Ros is surprised when I say I’m leaving work early.
“Is everything ok?” she asks, concern on her face.
“Fine,” I mutter without conviction.
She doesn’t try to start a conversation, thank god, because I’m so fucking wired I might just crack under the strain of holding it all in.
I’m barely aware of driving to the hospital. I walk in a dreamlike state towards the reception desk. The middle-aged woman there blinks and blushes when she sees me. What’s the matter with her? Just tell me where Elena is! I ask for Mrs Lincoln. She asks if I’m family. What a fucking joke.
“No, a friend of the family. My mother, Dr Trevelyan, asked me to come and see her.”
The mention of my mother’s name is a talisman to give me the information I want. What sick, fucking, cosmic joke. If my mother really knew the nature of my relationships with Elena… but she never will. Never. Not over my dead fucking body.
I look through the small window of Elena’s room. I can’t recognise the bruised and bloody pulp in front of me. Her head is swathed in bandages and her eyes are swollen shut. One arm is in plaster. And I know… I know…
I enter the room, moving with the soft tread of a penitent in a church; I can hardly speak.
“Elena? Oh, fuck, Elena!”
Slowly, painfully she turns her head towards me. One side of her face is covered in bandages – the other a ghastly mass of purple flesh.
“I’m here, Elena.”
Her speech is slurred but her tone is so fucking grateful.
“Did… did Linc do this to you?” I have to know.
“Yes,” she says softly. “He knows, Christian. About you. About us.”
I stand up, pacing across the room, running my hands through my hair. I’ll nail that fucking bastard’s hide to the nearest fucking tree. I’ll eviscerate him. I’ll tear his worthless heart out of his rotting corpse.
“Don’t,” she says softly.
“Don’t? I’m going to fucking kill him for doing this to you, Elena!”
“No, please.” Her voice is so quiet I can barely hear her.
“Why the fuck not?”
“Because it’s not what I want.”
“Why, for fuck’s sake? Elena, the bastard nearly killed you!” My voice is getting too loud but I can’t seem to control it anymore.
I think she’s trying to smile. “I deserve it,” she said. “I don’t care, Christian. It’s good to feel something. I haven’t felt anything in so long – only with you. Only with you, Christian.” She takes a deep breath and I can see that talking hurts her so I listen carefully. “Linc will let me divorce him and give me a good settlement. Your name won’t be mentioned if I agree not to prosecute him for… for assaulting me. That’s the deal. Non-negotiable.”
“Oh, Christ, Elena!”
“No, Christian. This is what I want. Please. I’m so tired. So tired.”
I hold her hand while she drifts off to sleep.
So I can’t touch Linc. Not yet. But revenge is a dish best served cold – and I’ve got a long, fucking memory. Linc might get away with this today… but I’m coming for him. One day.