Be Careful What You Wish For (17 page)

‘You called?'

He whirled around, knowing he should have pre-empted that. Shadow stood in the doorway, appearing as if out of nowhere.

‘Master?'

He had adopted the demeanour of a servant who expected to be punished. His manner was subservient, almost obsequious. With head bowed low he appeared humbled, but Richard was not easily fooled.

‘Why did you not come the moment I called you?'

‘I came as soon as I heard.'

‘Now you are arguing, and that I will not tolerate!'

‘Yes, Master... I mean, no... I mean...'

‘You are blustering, man. You don't have to think. Your place is simply to do. Is that clear?'

He knew Shadow hated to be put in his place, to be reminded of his position. And now he was doing it deliberately, pushing the boundaries of their relationship, aware that he had been deceived at least on this occasion. He wondered how many other times it had happened. It brought in doubt and called into question trust and loyalties and commitment. How far could he rely on his man?

‘I'd like a glass of whisky.'

‘Yes, Master.' Shadow retreated from the room. In his absence Richard paced, occasionally rubbing his fingers lovingly down the spine of one of the many books lining the oak-panelled walls. This was his inner sanctum. A place where he could think, where he relaxed and dreamed dreams. Occasionally he would have Shadow read to him. It was soothing. But not now. Not this evening. This night was meant for better things, and for Shadow had come the reckoning long deserved.

A gentle rap of knuckles on the door heralded his return.

‘Enter.' Shadow took three steps into the room and stood, head bowed, glass sitting on a tray, waiting. ‘Come.'

A glass slid into his hand. It had been chilled just the way he liked it. He was obviously trying hard, and then the next moment Shadow was bent double on the floor, hands reaching behind him while he kissed his shoes.

‘Oh get up, for God's sake. Do you hear? Get up!' He was irritated by this display of servitude, and impatient to move on.

‘Have you seen Pandora? Do you know what she's doing right now?'

‘I have no idea, Master. I have been busy in the kitchen. Why, do you need me to check on her, or perhaps prepare her?'

Lies...

‘I've been watching you watching her. Very cosy.'

‘Oh...'

‘Yes, exactly. You understand now where I am coming from, why I'm annoyed, and why perhaps we should try out the switch Pandora made to find out exactly the impact it will have if used on her bare bottom.'

‘Master, you wouldn't...'

‘Go, fetch. You have five minutes exactly. Any longer and the punishment will be even worse.'

‘Master, please don't make me do this. I'm a loyal and humble servant, and...'

‘Your punishment has just gone up another notch. You are questioning a direct order. Anything more, even a whisper or a frown, and the punishment will be extremely severe.'

‘May I leave the room, Master?' Shadow bent his head, knowing he was defeated, unsure what might happen next.

 

 

He heard the
zing... zing... zing
whistle through the air even before white hot pain seared across his buttocks. He lay tense. This was not the way it was supposed to be. This was degrading. He didn't enjoy the position at all. But then, Richard was making a point. He'd pushed the boundaries too far. No, more than that, he'd slipped up badly, not expecting him to catch on to what he was doing so soon.

Thwack
...

It came again and he couldn't help it; despite his resolve he let out a scream. This was too much! He didn't deserve...

Thwack... thwack... thwack...

How many more might it take before Richard's anger was satisfied? Or was it something more? Had this anything to do with the girl? If so, by God he would make her pay, and then some, because this was seriously interfering in his relationship with Richard. It made sense when he came to think about it. He'd caught the glitter in his eye, saw the bulge in his trousers as he threw accusations against him, and the fact he'd been watching him watching Pandora; he should have known. He'd no idea that his charge of her would affect them so much.

The air was still around him, as if waiting, drawing breath. He relaxed his body, feeling the welts across his buttocks biting, the heat of the strokes burning through the tender flesh. It would be a while until he could sit down with any degree of comfort. And he would need to be damn careful that Pandora didn't catch on. It would take away the respect she had for him.

He and Richard, they had dreamed dreams in this room, shared hidden desires, wished for a slave to share between them, a girl they could train, who would do their bidding and keep house, but also see to their needs. It had worked well, until now.

The silence lengthened. It was a favoured ploy of Richard's, so that he never quite knew whether the session was over. But then again, it had never been this way between them. It was more about control, Master/sub, and friendship. Nothing had jeopardised that before. He was no longer sure of his ground. He knew things were bad in business right now. Perhaps it was the stress combined with preparations for the forthcoming celebrations that had pushed things over the edge.

Suddenly there was a pull on his wrists. A tightness on his arms. ‘Master?'

‘Yes, you might well wonder what's going to happen. For a while now you've forgotten the way it is between us. Acting as equals is for the benefit of Pandora only. In truth you know I am Master, and it is time you were reminded of that fact.'

‘But all the time I'm mindful...'

‘You have been playing games with me under my own roof. But this is no game. You will learn your lesson well, and then things will change... dramatically. Mark my words.'

He was using his favoured bola-bola knot, wrapping rope around both wrists before tucking the bight underneath and pulling it through. Richard was an expert in Shibari. The rope handcuffs were effective. They had been his first lesson in Japanese roping and he loved to practice whenever he had the chance of a willing participant... or not. Now his actions were impersonal, simply a means to an end. They weren't playing, this was for real. And he seemed impatient to get to the point of what came after.

Shadow wondered suddenly what would follow. He had no idea where this version of events would end. But he had the uncanny feeling it wasn't going to be pleasant for him, given the way things were developing.

Rope caught his ankle, holding it taut, reaching across to the other and leaving a drag between them to allow small walking steps. To complete the exercise in humiliation, a short length of lead was attached to his collar. Then he was being led down the hallway and through doorways, down into the darkest dungeon and the cage.

The cage squatted in a corner, like some trapped animal. Made of metal, the rungs on top and sides were close together. The metal flooring was cold. The space cramped. Cruelly he was twisted, bent and pushed inside and the door clanged shut behind him. Feeling already the cramps kicking in to his side he crouched and swivelled, cracking his head on the unforgiving bars, trying to find a position with some degree of comfort. But it was hard. Everything about it was hard. And he had no idea how long he might be left alone.

‘Master, you don't have to do this. I mean, we can talk about things, share the way we used to. I've missed that so much. I guess you have too. It hasn't been the same since...'

He was talking to thin air.

 

 

Richard felt good. It had been a while since he had felt so good. Suddenly he felt truly Master again, back in control of his own home. The more he thought about things the more he came to realise that he had been taken for a fool. Shadow wasn't stupid. They had been friends for many years, but always there had been this need, this untapped source of energy within his friend to dominate, but also to be submissive.

He was a conundrum. He had always tried to hide his feelings, to hold them in check. But Richard had found him out. It had happened quite by chance.

They met at university. They had known of each other in their school years as they'd played on opposing teams in football and cricket. But finally they came together to marry two best friends, Sheila and Beth. Those years were good. Money came in like there was no tomorrow as his chain of hotels and restaurants grew and flourished. And of course there was the acquisition and development of Hartington Hall, where he now had an experienced team offering a range of health and beauty services, creating bridges of wellbeing between him and guests. It had worked well, being able to send Pandora there in the beginning to prepare her.

Shadow, in his own professional field within the medical fraternity in those early years, had become more and more respected as a surgeon. Often they would spend weekends away together with their wives. But more and more through the week they found Sheila and Beth had been feeding their own perverse pleasures, sowing the seeds of visiting a swingers party, ‘just to look'. Then one evening over dinner together plans were hatched, and they found themselves in the house of a wealthy businessman in the middle of the countryside.

It had been dark when they arrived, but the blazing lights and sound of laughter and music attracted them. Men and women of all ages clustered like moths around a flame, displaying a peculiar manner of dress. It was a fetish party, and yet in amongst them had been the swingers. And in rooms set aside at the back, glasses in hand topped up at intervals by a transvestite maid, they became a part of the scene. It was a monthly event. The house had been bought to hire out to such groups, and the owners made such a mint of money that Richard seriously considered taking the same course of action as an investment.

They became regular attendees, but then more and more Shadow crept upstairs while his wife Sheila was involved usually with Dave, a favourite. One day Richard followed him, curious, and in a room at the top of the stairs a man stood naked, fettered to a cross hanging from the ceiling, feet spread, arms stretched, crucified and yet with such a look of ecstasy and devotion it was easy to tell he was savouring the experience. Opposite, through a doorway, a girl rode bareback, a hood covering her head, arms tied tight behind her. A dark-haired Domme gripped her long hair to yank her forward and then twitched a short wooden handle to send a whip lashing across her buttocks. He'd stayed awhile, fascinated by the complex pattern of red stripes crisscrossing pale flesh. The need within him grew, and he wondered what it meant, where it might take him.

Shadow had been in the farthest room. He was splayed full length on a bed, naked, being flogged by a tall bronzed Dom. Richard vaguely recognised him as one who used to bully his friend at school. It was shocking, especially as Shadow's whole demeanour was about authority and control, and yet at the same time, knowing them both, it made compulsive viewing. Standing to one side of the doorway he remained out of sight, and yet able to see every bit of the scene being played out in front of him. Following the flogging Shadow knelt before the Dominant as if it was the most natural position in the world.

It wasn't the only time. Again and again Richard discovered him in all manner of submissive positions, and not always with the same Dom, but obviously thoroughly enjoying himself and relishing this secret side of himself. Richard decided then that, rather than reveal the fact he knew, he would keep this newfound information to himself, at least for the time being.

Then came the car crash. The suddenness of it all still made him wince as the pain of losing his wife cut through him, slicing his emotions, leaving him with the same sense of acute loss and panic and dread he experienced at the time. It seemed Sheila and Beth had discovered a new venue. They were checking it out when the car skidded out of control. They swerved to avoid another car on the road, drove over the edge, and far below in the ravine the vehicle caught fire. Almost nothing was recovered. At least, that's what he'd been told. He'd been overseas, about to close the deal on a new investment, when the news came through. Immediately everything had to be put on hold while he travelled back. He didn't remember the journey. Only the words; brutal words which cut deep, making him gasp for breath, taking away the best thing to have ever happened to him... Beth.

He missed her. Oh, how he missed her! She would have been so proud of him, his success. And then there was the island. They had dreamed of having somewhere like this, completely cut off from the outside world, theirs to open and shut the door to depending on who they chose. Wishes, dreams, shattered in moments. Every morning still he woke to stretch out his arms, devastated not to find her at his side. Pandora reminded him of her and their beginnings. With her he was certain he could have the same again.

Pandora.

The woman in Greek history who had dared to open the box of secrets, and at the bottom had been Hope.

His feet were already treading the stairs before he properly realised where he was heading. He made no sound on the thick carpets, and when he reached the archway he was able to stand and admire her gentle curves, the long lashes that fluttered, hands moving as if in time to an unheard melody.