Ten ~ David
“Lie still. I’ll get your tea.”
My client, known as ‘bound b’ in my records, smiled at me; his lips still swollen from the ball gag. Oh, but his dark eyes did glitter with admiration. He rested not in my bed, but in the caged one, as was fitting his position. I’d showered him off with a soft sponge, taking care of the red marks on his back and ass from the flogger, then massaged an ointment made from herbs into the rope burns on his ankles and wrists. His back got a light film of arnica and aloe vera gel, which I’d found worked well.
“Thank you, Sir,” he whispered, his voice strained from the intense session we’d just had. He’d doze off soon, then wake up with a case of sub drop that I’d help him through before sending him home to rest for the entire weekend. My take home from tonight’s script was five thousand dollars. All of it was well-earned and then some. I was feeling a bit of that drop myself. Dom drop usually never hit me, but the sadness I was feeling was real and should be addressed quickly, Micah would no doubt tell me. He’d been telling me things at a steady rate, most about Zachary, which I promptly ignored.
I left my satisfied client to nap, climbing up the stairs to shower off the semen, his and mine, in my own bathroom. It was a chore to lift my legs for two flights of stairs. Stripping off my leather harness and pants, which would be washed down with castile soap and hung to dry later, I cranked the taps on and stepped under the flow of painfully hot water. Sadness and guilt flooded me as I scrubbed at the spunk dried on my chest hair. I had come with b, yes, as it was part of the script we’d played out for over two years. He’d be shattered if I hadn’t given him the joy of my cum coating his sore ass and back. Knowing it was a scripted part of a session, I felt hollow, or maybe hollower better described it. The downward slide was upsetting, and yet I couldn’t shake or scour the regret away. This was why I never got involved emotionally with my subs. As I lathered my stomach, all I could see was Amber – Zach – stretched out in my swing, giving his all to me as a good sub should. And here I was, unable to give him a fucking thimbleful of affection in return…
Hands thick with bubbles, I rubbed at my face, blinking my eyes open, then gasping as the burn set in. Zach should not be here, in my head, after a session with another sub. I shouldn’t have been seeing his green eyes as I made the man downstairs writhe and howl in pleasure. He shouldn’t have been the face that I saw when I gave bound b the gift of my spunk on his cherry red ass. He shouldn’t be here now, making me feel like a slut for coming all over someone else.
“Fucking hell,” I groaned, my eyes watering, my chest stinging from the claw marks I’d made trying to wash off my client’s semen. “Micah was right. I’m losing my shit.” Steam and soap bubbles filled the glass stall. The rinse was long, hotter still, and when I stepped out onto the bronze bathmat, my skin was ruby red. And still the sadness lingered. Maybe I should reach out to Zach, just to check on him. It had been four days since I’d left him outside Gems, running from his beauty, his softness, his adoration of me, and the lure of what could be. Using a towel to comb my hair, I pulled on some jeans, a pink tank top, and that was it. My phone was off, as it had been during the hour long session I’d just led, and so when I turned it back on it buzzed in my hand like a hornet’s nest.
I padded down to the first floor to make tea and toast for b who was sleeping off his best orgasm in four months, since he’d been in Illinois last. I read over the incoming notifications as I set the kettle on a high flame to boil. Most were shit, but one from Gems grabbed my attention. Generally, Shin or Butch didn’t harangue me as they did the youngsters on staff. I was left to my own devices. If my paperwork was on time, which it always was, I was only called in for those stupid fucking spirit meetings. No calls about rules or what was acceptable or how they wanted us to act. I knew the game. I’d been at this before Shin was out of diapers, or close to it probably.
“Methuselah,” I muttered to my reflection in the toaster. “Is there an old dom’s home?” I asked the empty room, my lame attempt at humor not lifting my spirits at all. The text from Shin didn’t make me any happier.
You see Amber lately? Nothing since yesterday. Had a customer last night. Worried. Touch base with any info please. ~ S
A day since the pup had contacted Shin? That didn’t feel right. In fact, it felt incredibly wrong. Zach was a gregarious pup, always bouncing around the office, eager to interact with the other escorts and clients. Which was why he was so in demand with the puppy play aficionados. He also always handed in his paperwork promptly. It was part of his wonderfully unique brain and how it worked. I tossed two slices of whole wheat into the toaster, whipped my wet hair from my brow, and hit Shin back as the smell of toast filled my immaculate kitchen.
No, not seen or heard from him. Did he book with a known client? ~ D
The toast popped. I buttered it, spread some grape jam on it, and then made my napping client his tea. Plain with one teaspoon of Stevia. All the while I fucked around with tea bags, my anxiety grew. Shin didn’t reply for close to an hour. I’d fed and helped my client dress, got him into a cab, and gratefully accepted his tip of a thousand dollars cash off the books. As soon as b was on his way back to his hotel room, I sent Shin another text that was short tempered. That one he replied to instantly.
Sorry, been asking the other guys. Yes, regular client past four months. No one has heard from Amber. Butch on his way to check his place. Will let you know ~ S
“Holy fuck,” I mumbled, the slice of toast that I’d forced down now curdling in my stomach with the quart of Gatorade I’d slugged back during the session. Ass resting on my iron gate, eyes glued to my cell, I didn’t pay the passing traffic any mind. Cars moved up and down my street at a steady clip. Cats and small dogs were common casualties. This was south Colchester. If you weren’t quick and street smart, you were dead. I was thumbing a reply to Shin when a car hit the curb about four feet from where I was lounging. Thinking the black sedan was going to run me over, I leaped back with a curse. The back door of the car flew open and a body was thrown at my feet before the car sped off, nudging a yellow cab as it sped off. I glanced down at the body lying on the sidewalk and felt my toast and Gatorade rising up the back of my throat. Amber. Zach. Oh, God…
“Oh fuck,” I gasped, dropping to my knees, bile creeping into my mouth. “Amber, Zach, oh God, please be alive, please, please, please…” I slid an arm under him, easing him to his back. His face was a patchwork of mottled bruises, his eyes nearly swollen shut, his lip busted and scabbed. “Zach…Pup, please, please, please…”
A froggy whisper rose from his mouth. I was torn between throwing up and weeping in relief. I hurried to sweep my poor battered pup up off the grimy sidewalk and carry him inside. He moaned in misery with every step I took. I whispered my apologies, my feet feeling big and fat as I stumbled into my house, kicking the door shut, and carting him to my bedroom on the second floor. Moving him was probably not the best thing to do, but sex workers, and we were all that even if we put a fancy name on it like “elite escort”, avoided hospitals unless we’d been stabbed or shot, and even then we’d prefer Dr. McCoy take care of us. Hospitals meant questions, legitimate names, and most times police if they found out you were turning tricks for cash. Dr. McCoy asked no questions, patched us up, handed out meds, and never lectured.
“Pup, we’ll take care of you,” I whispered as I placed him on my bed then began to peel off his dirty white puppy play clothing. It was filthy. By the time I had him bared, anger had risen up so brightly I was having trouble breathing. The boy had been hurt badly. His chest, sides, back and tiny little ass cheeks were riddled with bruises. He groaned when I touched one of the marks on his backside, rolling away the best he could. “Lie still, I’m calling Butch now and he’ll bring Dr. McCoy.”
“Hold me…” Zach whimpered, and so I climbed into bed, cuddled close as I could get and not hurt him, and dropped tiny kisses to his filthy hair. “Hurts…all over…Sir…make it better?”
“I will, Pup, I promise I will make it all better. Now rest, you’re safe with me, that fucked up junkyard dog you’re so stupidly fond of.”
“Mm… love you…David,” he murmured before sleep took him.
It was hard finding the right contact to tap with tears in my eyes. “I love you too, Pup.”
***
Shin, Ian, Butch, and I were four golems who were pretending to be humans. My couch held Shin and Ian, one man sitting with his arm draped around the other. Butch stood in the corner by the glass curio cabinet in that military/cop stance of his, and I paced. For over an hour, I circled the room like a hungry lion until Dr. Evan McCoy descended the stairs. All four of us looked up at the young man in the white coat. He was a fine-looking guy, blond hair, and bright blue eyes, working a Cali surfer sort of look despite him being born and raised right here in South Colchester. He had broken free of the poverty, went off to medical school – signed up for Starfleet, he liked to joke – and then came back to open a free clinic. The poor, indigent, and illegals who called this cesspool home loved him. He was way too nice to be living in this piss pot of a town.
Ian rose and walked over to the good doctor. Butch went into the kitchen to bring him coffee. Shin sat staring and working his lower lip. I stood my ground by the front windows, unable to pull in a solid breath as fear ate at my sanity.
“Is there anyway one of you can talk him into coming into the clinic for an x-ray?” Dr. McCoy asked. We all glanced at each other. Doc reached up to push his round wireframe glasses up his button nose. “Okay, look, I understand that Southie’s aren’t fond of the hospital and or law enforcement communities, but I’m worried that he may have a broken rib. Oh, thanks.” He took the bright yellow mug from Butch then sipped the hot brew delicately. “Other than that, he seems to be okay. There are multiple contusions and deep bruising scattered over his body. There’s also evidence of sexual intercourse, which he maintains was consensual. Rough puppy play that he agreed to, which, you know, given the beatings he took I would tend to call it something else, but if he wants to work out the trauma in that manner…”
“I’ll get him to the clinic,” I said. All eyes shifted to me. “I’ll get him there. He’ll do as I tell him, he’s my sub.”
Three of the four said nothing, but they stared in shock.
“What the fuck? Since when? You do realize we have a fraternization policy at Gems?” Butch barked.
“You can shove that policy up your tight ass, Marky Mark,” I countered. Butch came a little unglued, which was a fat whatever. That was Butch. I knew he hated that Marky Mark name, which was why I’d slapped him with it just now.
“Okay, can we not argue company policy right now?” Ian said, pushing into the bickering. We all fell silent in the face of the massive redhead’s glower. “Is there anything else, Doctor?”
“Well, yes, a few things. Make sure he takes the antibiotics and pain killers I left upstairs for him. I’d like him to come back in for another HIV test in a few weeks. The rapid test I did just now came back negative, but I’d feel better having another test done in about a month just to be sure.”
“I’ll make sure he gets that test. Any others too,” I stated, daring any of them to say a thing with a look. Shin continued to gnaw on his lip. Ian thanked the doctor, slipped him an envelope which held cash, I assumed, and walked him out to his car, which was parked in front. “I don’t want to hear a single fucking word.” Shin shook his head. Butch mumbled something under his breath. “I’m going to go upstairs now. You all can go back to Gems.”
“But we need to know who did this,” Shin said, rising from the couch, his face pale with worry. “If this was one of his regulars, then we’re going to—”
“We’re going to what? Press charges?” I asked with a jeer that made Shin wince. “Come on, Opal, you know better. That kid,” I jerked a thumb at my bedroom, “will never see any kind of justice for this unless it’s vigilante.”
“Diamond, don’t get any ideas,” Butch stated flatly.
“I already have all kinds of ideas,” I told them, spinning on my bare heel to climb the stairs and tend to my boy. Yes, he was mine. Butch, Shin, Ian, Micah, James, and anyone else who didn’t like it could fuck right off. I was done denying Zach what he loved the most, that being me.
LeeAnn says
Looking forward to the vigilante retaliation!
Cathy says
Ooh Diamond is getting rough! I’m curious why he was thrown out at diamonds though.