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Returning to the dining room, we sit side by side, as if we belong together. She defers to me, often lowering her eyes, and saying little unless I speak to her. I find this a curious accompaniment to dominance. I almost feel as if I’m holding court, even if I have only one courtesan.
Two tables away from us our former lovers sit. Peach seems like a woman of my past, of ancient times. I look at her and think I hardly know her now, as she wears Tasia’s ribbon proudly. I love her so, yet the love that pours from me to her is so unrequited, I make myself not feel it. I remind myself a dozen times a day—”a few weeks and it will all be over.” Peach’s words are the only comfort I have that she’ll return to me. And we’ve just days to go before that deadline.
Chapter Twelve
I’m on the beach at dusk, the clouds make a stunning setting sun, filled with passionate orange against the steel grey sky. I’m here to think, to set things straight in my head. I hope the ocean will act as a masseuse, massaging my weary brain so I can feel some peace.
I think about what I’m doing, how I’m learning to dominate when I’ve dreamed only of submitting. I’m very good at this…
Analise wears a larger dildo in her ass now. She still shrieks when I violate her there, though she knows I won’t give in to her whimpering. I even had to spank her again this morning; she lapsed into a whining fit, pleading desperately for mercy she didn’t really want. It was fine with me watching her bottom glow crimson again, as my hand pelted her tender rear, until even I was in too much pain to continue. I should have used a strap or a paddle, but I didn’t think I’d get as serious with it as it turned out.
I really think she was half bluffing me with her protests—just seeing how sincere I am. Half of her wanted her bottom on fire again. The arousal is obvious, the way her cunt juice flows so she’s sopping wet. Today I brought her off when she finally gave into the intrusion in her ass—a simple reward for her work. I probably shouldn’t please her so readily, but I like the way she cums, the way her body twitches and her face screws up into a grimace before she breaks out into a delightful grin. Peach is much more passionate with her orgasms, but this is what I have right now.
Besides, it pleases me to think of Analise prancing around the house well penetrated. I like to see the way she winces sometimes when she moves and the dildo hurts. Though my real triumph comes when I meet Tasia on the stairs.
“You have quite an imagination, Cassidy,” she addresses me quite unexpectedly. “Peach tells me about your very fertile mind.” She sounds kind, though I distrust her completely. I have no idea why she’s being so friendly with me now, when she’s reviled me so badly in the last two weeks. “Some day we’ll have to explore it together,” she suggests.
“Really?” I wonder why she’d care. I’m sure she’s just trying to rattle me, or perhaps make me more jealous than I am. I stare at her with an icy gloat as Analise joins me and moves close, cuddling my arm. For a moment, the coziness I share with the girl appears to disturb Tasia, just the hint of a frown appearing on her face. Analise gives my arm a gentle squeeze, and then kisses us both before the little sprite runs off.
“And how is your project?” Tasia asks, looking at Analise skipping toward the garden.
“Expanding nicely,” I tell her.
“She tells me you know a good deal about such things. Perhaps it’s your first hand experience that has taught you so well?”
“I’m only doing what is natural for me,” I tell her.
“I see,” she replies vaguely. “Well, my dear, it’s only a matter of time before we’ll find out who’s the natural in these things.” She transforms in a twinkling, mutating back to her shrewish persona. I rather prefer her this way, she’s much easier to despise.
If Tasia is not distressed by my dominance of Analise, then she’s quite an actress pretending that she is; she’s able to twitch nervously at the young woman’s appearance, and is capable of feigning an obvious displeasure at her closeness to me. Can this really disturb her or is it just an act. One thing for certain, I can’t trust her either way, and will continue to adopt a casual air of indifference.
“Cass,” Peach interrupts the scene in my head. I turn abruptly, warmed by the sound of her voice. I look up at her though I can hardly see her face in the darkening shadows. There’s an otherworldly aspect about her face, even when her smile is pleasant. It’s been so long since I’ve been this close to her that it seems odd, very odd.
“You’ve been avoiding me,” she says.
“Have I? I didn’t notice,” I tell her the truth.
She sits on the sand next to me.
“Why would I want to be with you when you’ve been such a bitch?” I ask. The bitterness surfaces. She runs her hand affectionately along my leg and I pull away.
“Still pissed, are we?” she asks.
As much as I’d like to trust her, I find this unexpected intrusion too suspect to believe genuine. “What do you want from me?”
“Nothing, nothing at all,” she says. Her eyes gleam with a well remembered look of lust, the kind of look where we’d be quickly off to bed. Not this time, I think sadly to myself. Were I to make a move, she’d only deny me, give me some stupid logic for her refusal. I won’t live through that again.
“It’s just a few days and it will be over,” I tell her, reminding her of what she told me two weeks before. “I’ll wait for that.”
“Maybe you will, maybe you won’t,” she responds saucily.
Her eyes sparkle so brightly that I want to pull her down in the sand next to me and plant kisses across her face while I undress her. But I restrain myself and she knows it’s time to leave. Watching her get up and walk away isn’t easy when I want to run after her.
She knows I’m hurting, but she doesn’t seem to care. I can’t think her that cruel, but I do. There’s a small triumph for me in repelling her, since it’s a battle with Tasia that I’ve won. Too bad there’s so little joy in the winning.
When I get up to leave, I hear haunting music coming from the gardens near the house. Soft melodies mix with desperate drums, castanets and tambourines. It beckons me, so unexpectedly taking me away from myself absorbed melancholy. As I come to the top of the cliff and approach the gardens, I see women dancing and laughing on the patio and between the rows of hedges that border the lawn. Some frolic joyously, others cuddle in happy conversations. The erotic couplings fascinate me. I could slip into the midst of these women and lose myself. I fact, I wish I would
. But as it turns out, I watch, content to remain removed in my self-imposed exile.
