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Saul laughed. His friend was enjoying every moment of his life with Alicia in it, and everyone knew it. From the sounds of it, Alicia was flourishing in her Daddy’s care. Brat or not, she was coming out of her shell, trusting her Daddy implicitly—exactly how it should be. “I’ll take the advice, thanks. You, ah, have a good evening.”
“Planning on it. Keep me updated on your sub, won’t you?”
His sub, Saul thought with a smile as the call ended. Hell, that had a nice ring to it. Of course, he was jumping the gun, assuming Caera would be open to exploring something so different. The subs he usually played with knew the score—they were more experienced, they knew what they liked or didn’t. They went to Avalon for a reason, and he was happy to oblige.
Caera would be…challenging.
She was about as inexperienced as she could be, she had no idea what turned her on or switched her off completely. Her mental health hadn’t left her much room to discover who she was as a woman, and that was a fucking shame.
She would teach him every bit as much as he did her, if not more.
Saul set the phone aside and pulled his laptop closer, clicking open the website he used most often, to scroll through new videos in his target area of research for an idea he could write about. It was a tricky process, looking for kinks and techniques that were little- or ill-used by novices and dissecting them, rebuilding and redirecting them in such a manner that they became safe.
That they could be understood.
In the time since he first indulged his Dominant side, he’d seen some horrific things. Submissives incorrectly bound, causing physical and emotional distress. Floggings and whippings that crossed several lines into abuse. Scenes that belonged in fucking snuff films. Abuse from men who caused pain, not through ignorance, but intent and selfishness.
Younger Saul, complete lifestyle greenhorn, had known what was right and wrong even then, and he’d wanted to make a change, to be the bigger man, to provide an example as a Dominant.
The BDSM community had taken him in, helped him find his way, and had shaped him into who he was today.
He strived, every day, to be a man he could be proud of when he met his eyes in the mirror. It was important to him for so many reasons.
Something caught his attention on the screen and drew his mind away from thoughts of his past. The video was labelled simply: BDSM ANAL and had a running time of just over four minutes.
He was hesitant to watch it—he’d done more than one article on anal sex, and his proclivity for a well-shaped bottom open to all manner of sensual delights was well known throughout the community. More than one sub had given him positive feedback for his skill with the female derriere.
Still, the title of the video niggled at him, so he pressed play, sitting back to watch what the voyeurs on this website called porn…and felt his gut clench with disgust before the first full minute was up.
Figging was something he’d only touched upon lightly. From the events unfolding on the video, Saul believed the poor, blindfolded woman didn’t have a clue what her partner had planned for her. She obeyed him willingly, her movements natural and relaxed. However, once the raw ginger was inserted deep inside her rectum, her demeanor changed quickly from obedient submissive to outraged, panicked woman.
“Wrong, wrong, wrong.” Saul muttered, shaking his head as the woman was spanked brutally and anally violated, even as she shouted one word over and over again. “Ignoring her safeword. What a prick.”
Behavior like that within a community—in a club like Avalon, for example—would have resulted in an uninvolved Dominant taking care of the sub while club security dragged the rule-breaking asshole outside and banished him…possibly with a broken face for good measure.
At home, with no one to monitor a scene, this woman was on her own with no one to back her up. No one to stop the torture inflicted on her body against her will, or enforce her safeword.
And therein, Saul thought bitterly, was his next article. He could highlight the benefits of taking the time to explore the local BDSM community, to grow roots and connections, make friends. To build a personal web of protection within its walls, so that this type of abuse had no room to spread its ugly tentacles.
Not that it would stop. Something as grotesque as abuse would never be abolished, but if the words he wrote helped even one person, gave one couple the courage to step outside their comfort zone and find a reputable club to join and learn from, he would be happy.
Decision made, he opened his writing app and got to work. Two hours later, he leaned back from the desk and knuckled at his eyes.
Vision blurring and aching, strained from focusing such rapt attention on the words flowing from his brain to his fingers and out onto the screen, Saul knew he needed to rest his eyes and get a good night’s sleep before he continued.
He also wanted a good shot of black coffee and something to eat.
Grimacing with the little pops of his joints as they straightened, he rose from his chair, flush with the satisfaction of realizing he’d done some good work tonight. The basic outline was down, and he was filling in a lot more detail to flesh it out.
Once it was finished, he’d read it through himself to catch the obvious mistakes, and then away it would go to his editor for the minor corrections and polish.
From the shadows surrounding him, a whimper broke the quiet.
Saul paused, waiting for his brain to click out of computer mode, and cocked his head. There it was again. His protective instincts jumped to life without a second thought; he was through the bedroom door and by Caera’ side before he’d given his body a conscious order to do so.
The outline of her form was a silhouette in the darkness. Twisting, writhing, tangled in the vicious net of whatever tortured her in sleep. He reached out and flicked the lamp on so light illuminated the room, banishing the darkness.
It was worse than he could have imagined—ten times worse than the episode on the couch. That, he concluded, had been a fucking prelude to the main event, and there was no warning sufficient enough for what he was up against. “Caera? Caera, can you hear me, little rabbit?”
