After the scene in his office, I had felt a certain pull towards him, but I figured it was some sort of high from the spanking he had doled out alongside my arousal of being in that position in front of him.
I wasn’t naïve to BDSM despite never picturing myself as a member, especially with a man. A man who’s tutoring me in math as well as how to stop self-sabotaging my life. After I understood the nature of the contract with Arnie, I began to research. Reading late at night in my dorm on the internet, some forums explained it wasn’t uncommon to go into some form of subspace when scenes got intense in more than one way.
And, considering it was my first time doing anything like that, I was more than vulnerable to it. Thinking back, there was a moment when I felt my whole body go lax against his sturdy desk. It was an experience I knew I’d be liable to become addicted to. I’m sure I saw stars dance in my vision when he started on those twelve harsher strikes. A tranquil feeling had fallen over me like a warm blanket as I counted down to the lastone. I’d never taken drugs, but it’s what I imagined being high was like.
Arnie didn’t seem bothered at all when I told him what my late-night job was. In fact, I got the impression that’s what fuelled him to kiss me.
Thinking of Arnie watching me take the stage in my tight gold pants had me squirming in my seat. His burning eyes were on me as I swayed my hips, using my body to entice him in a room full of people. Goosebumps prickled my flesh, and I bit my lip to stop a groan coming up from my throat. This tutoring business was not as atrocious as I had once believed. Arnie had already imprinted on me in a way I had never considered when I signed up for this. I knew it would no doubt be one-sided, though. I was a baby kinkster, falling for my Dom after one scene happened to every sub after their first time. Questioning my sexuality aside, Arnie was nowhere near as intimidating as he came across that first day in Simmons’ office.
“Are you okay? You’re a little quiet over there,” Arnie inquires, startling me from my thoughts. Looking around, I realise we are already halfway into the city.
Arnie risks a quick side glance at me as he focuses on the road. It was a relief not to have to catch the bus, given the on-and-off rain all morning. His car was just like him, immaculate to a fault. A thought occurs to me: what would he do if I slipped out of my shoes and relaxed my feet on the dash? A frisson of fire stirs in my belly at the thought of him punishing me for it.
“Uh, no, of course not. Just thinking about work stuff,” I say to him whilst facing straight ahead so he couldn’t see my burning cheeks.
I adjust my jeans, but there was no hiding anything from Arnie now. He sucks in a quiet breath, then adjusts the bulge of himself in his seat, eyes gravitate back to the road.
“Okay. Well, I want you to meet me for a study session at the library tomorrow and Tuesday. I think if we can sort out your current workload and compare it to your work schedule, we will have a good chance of getting you back on track and doing even better than before.”
He smiles as he speaks, and my body feels like its about to melt. Was this more than a tutoring session for him, as it was for me? I knew I was being childish with my all too soon crush on him. It just wasn’t often that someone gave me any sort of attention, I told myself. How many others had he done this type of thing with, and if so, is he kissing them too after sessions at his house? I have to give up entertaining the hope that was worming its way inside me. Grateful, I pulled myself from that thought as my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Arnie had retrieved our phones from the sink drawer this morning, placing mine into my bag, before the world ceased to exist when he kissed me. I’d been so consumed with thoughts about last night and my silly hope for more that I hadn’t even checked it for messages. I pull it from my pocket, thinking it would be Beau checking in to see if I was going to make the meeting. I was also on a group chat called Twisted Misters with the guys from the club, but I had muted that and barely ever clicked it open. I froze when I saw the unknown number and the message it contained.
I could feel the colour drain from me as my hands trembled. I re-read the message on the screen.
Unknown: Found you. You’re coming back. The school won’t protect you.
My stepdad, Jed.
How had he found me after all this time? I froze, unable to think of anything other than those words as we drove along thelast part of the journey. We arrived, and I don’t even remember telling Arnie goodbye before he drove off. I’m sure he was telling me something, but I hadn’t heard it. I struggled to even concentrate on getting through the door of Cheeks, my hands still shaky as I pushed at them.
The meeting passes in a blur; it didn’t involve me having to speak, just attend. I trudge back to my dorm in the rain. The streets are dead given the weather. It still doesn’t stop me from looking over my shoulder every other minute. I could catch a cold from how long it takes to walk back, but I don’t care. Was Jed already here? Soaked and miserable as I traipse through puddles, wishing the world would just swallow me whole.
Some other dancers had asked if I was okay, but I lied and tried to perk up so that they wouldn’t ask any more questions. They were all so frustratingly nice and patient with me despite my constant cold shoulder. Dumping my stuff on the floor when I get back, I strip off my wet clothes, which thud to the floor in a sloppy pile. Falling onto the bed, I stay cocooned, unable to do anything but sink. My mind drifts back to how life was before I fled here.
The first punch.
The first time he locked me in that tiny cupboard, no one heard my screams for help.
No one was coming to feed me or let me go to the bathroom.
The humid, toxic air that made me feel as if I were suffocating.
I left for university the year after the worst of it. Saving for years and hiding the money in my locker at my dance studio. My instructor knew that something was going on but never pushed. She gave me an envelope of cash, a gift she called it, for training so hard and getting accepted into university despite expressing disinterest before Jed came along. I’d known her since I was 7 years old, but I told no one where I was going, not even her. Onlyspeaking to my brother Christian on the holidays and keeping myself as busy as possible to keep those memories far away.
The panic of his presence being near mine in the close future has my head spinning, and I roll just in time to throw up onto the over-worn carpet on the dorm floor. Wiping my mouth with the sleeve of my hoodie, I can only stare at the mess. Unable to move. My past has me by the throat. More of that sickening terror pours over me, and I throw my head off the side again, but this time nothing joins the sick on the floor, and I all but cough and choke until my eyes water, drool dripping from my open mouth.
He can’t have found me. How did he even get my number? What’s his plan for me? To go back after all this time? I couldn’t. I was a goddamn adult now. As I lay there in my cramped room, my head thumping with a headache, I thought of what I had achieved in the past 3 years.
A condition that had been dormant awakens from deep inside me for the first time since I ran. It unfurls familiarly in the pit of my stomach. A quiet collapse that threatens to make its return. A shadow that, I thought, was gone despite my recent spiral of loneliness and failure in class. With my cheeks wet from silent tears, I fall fast into an exhausted sleep, waking in the same position the next morning, a heaviness still blanketing me. I think of texting Arnie. Maybe he would understand. We didn’t know each other that well, but after spending the weekend with him, I feel close to him in a way I’ve never felt with others.
Did Doms deal with depressed subs?
I could still feel the sting in my skin from where his hand had left marks. His marks. It felt like so long ago that I was watching him as he drove me to work, his tanned skin covered in rippling black ink. His hard jaw with a light amount of stubble that I was daydreaming of feeling rub against my sensitive skin in another scene with him. I grab my phone from my still-soaked jeanspocket. It's wet, and it takes me a minute to dry it off with my bedsheet before I can use it. But as I open my messages to look for Arnie in my contacts, I had several emails pop up from the university.
Issues with my scholarship fees. What? Then another email from them.
The university claimed thata concerned guardianhad requested my address. And they gave it to him, despite it being obvious lies.
