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“Ah, I’m glad you’re home. You didn’t leave a note and I worried.”
“Did you call the shop?”
“Yes, and you weren’t there.”
“I’m sorry Ian, but I…”
“Come here,” he interrupts.
“Are you mad?”
“Mad, no. Just worried. Where were you?” He holds his arm out for me and I move to his side. He hugs me around the hips with an embrace so firm I feel every bit of tightness in my ass from the wounds that remain.
“Ian, I need to tell you about me.”
“And what’s that?”
“I’m more than I appear.”
“Oh?” He looks concerned, a natural response seeing how terrified I am. Yet he gazes at me innocently inquisitive, and what I have to tell him spills out all at once—not in the measured careful way I planned.
“There’s a side to me that needs satisfaction. The dark, rough, submissive side. It’s what Heinrich gave me and what I miss since the divorce. Tonight I went to Bernard’s, Heinrich’s attorney and my good friend. He took care of my need.”
“What need?” He’s still puzzled.
“Heinrich and I were heavily into the S&M scene,” I explain from a different perspective.
“I see.”
“Yes, you really should see.” I pull away and tug my skirt above my waist. “This is me too, a very masochistic side of me,” I say as I show off my ass. There are several welts remaining from the cane, and bruises beginning to appear. He touches the skin and shrinks back as though this might reach out and grab him.
“All this time. All the months I’ve known you, you’ve been into this?”
“I have.”
“And Bernard made these marks?”
“Yes, he did.”
“How?”
I turn back, and draw a chair to his side. My bottom feels sore against the hard wooden seat, but ignoring that, I reach out to him and stroke his cheek affectionately as I speak, telling him the story of my evening on the table, of the fierce anal probing and the strap, the cane and Bernard’s insistence that I tell him everything.
Drawing away from me, Ian rises to stroll about the room. I’ve upset him and the silence between us is killing.
“You say you had to go, that perhaps your foul mood of late is because you’re not completely satisfied, is that right?”
I shake my head yes.
“And you’ll do this again?”
I can hardly spit out my faltering, “yes.”
“Why didn’t you come to me about your need?”
“Because it would have been wrong to expect this kind of thing from you.”
“How do you know?”
