I nodded and quickly kneeled in front of him, like I’d seen subs do online.
“Okay, firstly I’ll test a few different kinks I read about where I don’t have to do much… touching.”
“You sure you know what you’re doing?” I asked, worrying about just where and what, he’d read about being a dom. It had only been two days, after all.
“Are you being a brat?”
I rolled my eyes. “Carry on.”
He rolled his shoulders, then closed his eyes. When he opened them, he was in character. He grabbed my chin and smiled down at me; it was so weird I couldn’t do anything other than just stare back in wonder.
“Such a perfect sub, you took me so well,” he praised and I felt myself smile. I liked this already. I wasn’t getting enough compliments as it was. Would Jackson be this kind if I was his sub?
“Oh, you like that?” Dylan grinned, getting out of character. “Next thing.” He closed his eyes again, grabbing my chin yet again. “Such a filthy whore, just a hole for me to fuck. Only good for fucking, aren’t you?” I felt tears gather in my eyes. Why was he so mean?
“Fuck, okay, you’re not into that.” He kneeled in front of me, his pants protesting loudly, and hugged me close.
“Was that a kink?” I sniffled, letting him comfort me.
“Yeah, degradation.”
“Did you do it right?” I dared ask. If this was real and Jackson liked it…
“I believe so… but maybe I’m not cut out for this, Pete.”
“It started out fun,” I muttered.
“Yeah, you like praise, but that’s hardly a surprise.”
I smiled. “Let’s stop the kink exploration. I’ll do the rest of my research alone. But thank you.”
“Anything for you.” I smiled. “Oh, and Pete?”
“Yes?”
“I can’t get back up.”
I had spent another week studying BDSM and what I learned was that I needed real life experience. I had saved myself for Jackson, but if I had to be compatible with him, I needed to know I could dothis thing with him. That’s how I found myself in a random BDSM club, wearing tight leather shorts and a fishnet crop top. I had put on some smokey eye liner, needing something to feel like I was in character. It felt wrong going to a place like this as myself. Pete wasn’t a guy that came to BDSM clubs. But my other persona could be.
I’d told Dylan about it, much to his horror. But he supported me in my Jackson obsession and I’d promised to text him when I got home safely after this. My plan was to get through a scene with a random dom, and then I would ask out Jackson.
It was so simple!
I sat down at the bar and ordered a bottle of water. They allowed eighteen-year-olds to enter and it didn’t seem like the most rule-abiding place, so I could’ve likely gotten a real drink, but I didn’t want alcohol to ruin this for me.
Until I saw them.
Now, I was what people called a born medium. My mother was too. And her dad before her, and the list went on and on. So, seeing ghosts and talking to them was my normal. But seeing a dom walking around with three ghosts trailing him, all wearing different kinds of skimpy outfits, that didn’t bode well for me. And unfortunatelyfor me, the man took my interest in his ghosts as interest inhim. He smirked and prowled over to where I sat. I squirmed in my seat, fearing for my life, but then I remembered I was at the bar, I wasn’t somewhere secluded. I forced myself to calm down and met his gaze as he slid into the seat next to me.
“Hi there, gorgeous,” he winked. I tried not to wince. The ghosts sneered at him; their dislike so obvious. I knew what had happened, it was my job to help spirits like them. To free them. We were a sort of community of mediums, all working together to help out ghosts, and those who had been killed by touch would forever be tied to their killers, even when their murderers died themselves. It was cruel really, but when someone died while touching someone else, then they would be tied to that person, always having to follow them around wherever they went. And then when that person died, they’d both be stuck to the location where the killer had died.
I could free them. And even though I was afraid, I knew I had to.
I just nodded at him and walked over to a dark wall, hoping I could free them there. My powers weren’t visible, but I needed them to understand I was helping for it to work, otherwise they could fightthe pull I had on them. I would have to speak to them, without the killer dom knowing what I was doing.
He followed like I knew he would. Coming to a stop next to me, leaning one arm on the wall beside me, acting all confident.
“He’s too innocent to die,” one of the ghosts said sadly.
