Maid For His Submission (17 page)

Stretching her legs out in front of her, she sank onto the familiar couch. Every stain and crease were memories from her teenage years and worked as a comforting support tonight. Twenty-four and experiencing life on her own for the first time, Tosh was doing her best to fight off the recent ghosts brought on by her former boyfriend/master. But there were some things her heart wasn’t ready to let go of. While working on her pieces for the art show that one of her professors arranged for her, Tosh noticed an ongoing theme in all her works and from there sprang up the perfect title for the show. The Masters Demons.

If Richard ever found out about the title or saw the works, he would probably have her chained to a Saint Andrews Cross back at the club and whip her rear until it was blue and purple. None of the pieces held a perfect likeness that could be seen by an outsider’s eye, but they spoke volumes to her of their time together. There was the black and white tile floor with a discarded handkerchief dropped perfectly to display only the ‘R’ of the monogram, painted in oils from her memory of their first night together. She had titled it ‘A Lovers Labors’. Jude had found humor in the title, but didn’t know the story behind it.

Opening up the envelope that Jude had passed her on the way out, Tosh counted out her tips for the day, taking strict accounting in the back of her head for what she was allowed to spend for fun. With the show coming up, she wanted to get a new outfit complete with the black leather boots she’d seen in the shop window on Lake Avenue. Lace-up’s with a wide two inch black heel and six brass clasps up the calf, they look wickedly cute to her steampunk friends, but to her they just looked beautiful. Wearing those boots under the bronze taffeta skirt and the black corset top she had bought the week before, she knew she would be walking onto the gallery floor with pride. But she was still a hundred bucks short and had begun to question if they were worth going without her regular ramen noodle diet. Artists were meant to suffer, but no one ever said they were meant to go without shoes or boots for their first art opening.

Stuffing the bills into the expanding envelope in her underwear drawer, Tosh returned to flip on her TV and DVD player, letting her regular bedtime film load while she dressed for bed. Perhaps spending night after night watching
Arsenic And Old Lace
was not the healthiest way to get over a guy, but who said she needed to get over him just yet. There was an art show full of therapy waiting for her to finish up and only a week left. Tomorrow was her day off and she would dedicate that time to purging her soul of his dark eyes and wicked delights.

Chapter 2

“Richard. Buddy.” Thomas called out, peeking his head into the hillside art deco cabin. Like with Richard’s penthouse, he had keys to the escape pad and had tried to infiltrate several times in the last three months.

Co-owners of their BDSM club Odyssey, as well as the occasional fuck buddies, Thomas had a lot more freedom in Richard’s life than most. But holding the rights to such a special friendship meant he needed to step forward and intervene when he saw his friend and business partner falling apart.

“Dude!” he shouted and got a guttural grunt from the living room.

Rounding the corner, Thomas found Richard curled up on the couch covered in an afghan. Piled in a takeout bucket of chicken was the remainder from dinner the night before, surrounded by amber bottles. Bare feet stuck out the other end of the afghan and Thomas was disappointed to find Richard in the same place every time he came by for a visit since he took up residence here. Before, this had always been a retreat for them. A manly vacation where they could sit around in an aura of testosterone, watching whatever sporting events were playing or taking in the occasional weekend game of Risk with George and Don. But this was a first and Thomas was beginning to worry where it would lead.

“Shut up!” Pulling the blanket over his head, Richard tried to fight against the invading sunlight but Thomas just kicked the side of the couch.

“Wakeup, wakeup, wakeup, wakeup.” It was patronizing, but Thomas had long past the point of friendly concern and was now starting to truly worry about him.

“Fuck!” Richard shouted, reaching over and grabbing Thomas’ ankle, putting a halt to the kicking. His iron grip tightened and for a moment Richard contemplated pulling his friend down across his lap for a proper punishment, but he wasn’t in the mood. There was only one ass he wanted and she was busy making coffee for everyone in the city, but him.

“Snap out of it, man. You have to wake up and get out of this funk.” Thomas was the voice of reason for a change, but Richard didn’t want to hear any of it.

“Leave me alone. I already called the office and told them I would not be making it in,” he paused and realized that Thomas was about to jump in with a protest.  “Before my afternoon meetings.”

“You never stay away from work. And this… this.” Extending his arms out, he presented his concern from the takeout mess on the coffee table to the small fortune in Sax Fifth Avenue and Armani. “What the hell is wrong with you? If I didn’t know you better I would think…”

“What! What would you think?” Richard was defensive and shouting at the one person who he knew cared about him.

Turning away from him in frustration, Thomas picked up the bucket of chicken bones and filled it with the empty beer bottles. Kicking a blue button-up shirt out of the way, Richard flinched from the scripting, scattering sound of his Tiffany’s cufflinks clattering from the abuse on the wooden floor. He knew he was a pathetic sight and he knew full well what it was his friend had been suggesting.

After taking a few deep breaths, he closed his eyes to clear his thoughts.

“Look,” Richard’s voice fell into a sensible middle tone range. “You don’t know what’s happening day-to-day here and your time with us was just snip-its. Look, I’m trying my best to understand this and I know I’m making a mistake, but they are my mistakes and even though I appreciate you coming over to try and help, if you feel the need to kick something - can it not be my favorite cufflinks?”

His snarky reply was a hopeful sign for Thomas, but not enough to tell him that his friend was coming back. Stepping on the paddle of the trashcan, the lid popped open and Thomas dropped the bucket of chicken bones and empty beer bottles in and stepped back to let the lid snap shut. This was just a little bit of what was needed, but looking around the stylish cabin at the scattered mess Thomas was pleased that he could lighten some of Stephanie's work load. Looking down on the floor, he saw the silver glitter of Richard’s cuff links. Walking over, he picked one up off the floor beside the kitchen counter and found the other a few feet farther where he’d unintentionally kicked it. Dropping them on Richards lap, Thomas looked down at his friend with a crooked brow.

“You really need to pull it together.” He told Richard and took note of the small black knotted bundle in his hand. Taking note of the protective hold his friend had on it, Thomas didn’t have to think too hard whose it was. “I’ll be back around two and if you’re still in your PJ’s, I’ll be forced to tie you up naked and drag you to the club.” Walking over to the door, he pulled his keys from his pocket and gave Richard one last look from the door. “You were only together a few weeks and now, you’ve been locked away for a few months. If you’re going to mope around longer than the two of you were together, maybe you should consider where you went wrong and fix it.”

Closing the door on their visit, Thomas left Richard alone with his thoughts. It was a cruel thing to do to him, seeing how all his thoughts took him right back to her. Setting a two hour timer on his phone, he pulled the afghan over his head and went back to sleep.

*  *  *

Life was becoming monotonous and the things that he’d once found meaning in were now pointless. Richard was quickly finding everything he held true and dear to be worthless or worse, a lie. Feeling like a kid who just discovered Santa wasn’t real, he drove away from the office defeated and beaten. The deals played out as planned and another of his father’s business transactions were complete. But he didn’t care about his father’s business anymore, now than he did when the old bastard was alive. '

Changing gears, he decided to fuck the speed trap and gun it. There would be some satisfaction to having to pay a traffic fine, spending the sizable amount of money he just earned, thanks to his father. He hadn’t felt this lost or torn since the day he’d gotten the news of his death and Richard felt like he was about to crawl out of his skin if he didn’t do something soon. Taking the freeway exit, he turned corner after corner until the familiar book shop came into view with the quaint coffee house out front.

‘She should be working now.’
He thought to himself and pulled up to the curve under the No Parking sign. Looking out the passenger window, he could see her, his sanctuary, his salvation as he had once thought her to be. Richard knew he was one majorly fucked individual, thanks to his parents, but he never truly hated himself until that day driving by the college. He hated himself for his lack of feeling in losing the only parent he had ever known, letting the man die alone with his conscience.

And then he saw her. Walking in front of his car.

Her pony tail bounced in time with her bright and happy walk. Then he felt it. An energy that ignited from her body and struck him with a charge of survival. For the first time in years, he had a need to find happiness and not just success.

It was in that moment, he knew he had to have her.

The oversize show-windows had the name of the coffee house painted in gold and forest green, but between the letters he could still get a clear view of her. Pushing the mop across the floor, Tosh paused long enough to comb her fingers through her hair. Her hair pulled back in the same pony tail he had first seen her with, it was clear to him that her hair was a bit longer and those damn streaks of blond were the result of the other woman's bad influence, he knew. If she’d still been his, she would’ve had to correct that mistake at once, followed by a proper spanking and a short spell in his bedroom cage. He’d moved the cage into his room some time ago to be used by an old sub of his, but he never found the right moment to bring her home. Now he was thankful he never tarnished his with memories. Tosh left far too many demons for him to live with.

Pushing ahead with the mop, she continued cleaning the remainder of the shop floor before disappearing into the back room. Only minutes past while the shop lights were turned off and the four employees gathered by the front door before they left for the night. She smiled and laughed at whatever clever things the tall gangly man said. Richard never wanted to beat a man as desperately as he did at this moment. There was not a time he could recall ever bringing such a pure sweet laugh out of her, but their time together was complicated with other things beside laughter.

Grumpy and provoked, Richard found himself getting bold in his current rejected state and opened his car door. Looking behind him for any oncoming traffic, he found the street was eerily quiet.

*  *  *

“Dude, poker in an hour?” Alex stuffed his long frosted tips into the stocking cap and pulled it down over his head, unfolding the edge to cover his ears.

“Sorry, man. I can’t. You cleaned me out last night.” Justin made his excuses, but kept his eyes on Tosh’s behind as she turned to help Jude lock the door.

Alex leaned in close over Justin’s shoulder, admiring the same feminine rears and patted his friend’s shoulder in sympathy. “Man, you have no luck in tapping that. She has turned every man down who had the balls to ask. You’ll be dead in the water before you even finish asking her,” he replied with an adolescent punch to Alex’s arm. They might’ve been in their mid-twenties, but some boys never grow up.

“Ah, man.” Rolling his shoulder, Alex cradled it like a wounded animal and turned around to see Mr. Wall Street watching them. “Dude! Look.” He leaned over to Justin, speaking out of the side of his mouth. “Well, well. Mr. Wall Street has come for a late night cup of Joe.” 

Rolling his eyes, Alex struck Justin’s arm this time for trying to act so cool, constantly labeling each other to their personal identity of ‘Dork’.

Taking a longer look, the overgrown boys took note of his strong stature in comparison to the quiet business man they thought always hid behind his newspaper. Standing in the poorly lit street, they got a better appreciation for his strong wide shoulders. And without his suit coat, his long sleeve button-up stretched over his large arms, pulling tight over the muscles that he flexed when he crossed his arms over his chest. Heavy mist had started to settle down early along the street and the grass glittered with dew. Together, the friends were frozen with intimidation by the dark threatening look in the man’s eyes and didn’t break their visual contact when Jude and Tosh stumbled into an uncontrollable giggle.

“What got you two so…” Jude’s voice trailed off when she looked up and followed their line of sight and quickly Tosh’s light hearted giggles vanished.

“Oh,” she said, dropping her shoulders forward and feeling the weight of the world on her back. Closing her eyes, she quietly demanded of herself to keep the overwhelming dizziness away and to give herself the strength she desperately needed.

“I’ve got this.” Tosh stepped forward with false self-assurance.

Stepping out from under the shop awning and out of her friends hearing, she nervously fumbled with her hands and hoped that her heart wouldn’t beat right out of her chest. He looked amazing, just as he did in her dreams but his brow was pinched and hard and he didn’t open his arms to her, welcoming Tosh back into his fairytale life.