Playing Dom (15 page)

I messaged some of
the other people who had attended the munch, hoping to find out what
had happened. The response I received was shocking. There had been a
fight, and apparently Talia had left in an ambulance. My heart ached
as I read the words, adrenaline pumping through me while I typed
furiously on the keyboard to try to get more details. Mistress Marian
was being vague, which pissed me off, but there was nothing that
could be done about it.

I thought about
calling all the hospitals to find out how Talia was doing, but I
didn't know her last name. That problem was easy enough to rectify by
doing a reverse search on her phone number. With the information in
hand, I called all the hospitals I could think of. It was a daunting
task, one that had to be carried out when I was off work. Eventually,
I got a hit though, and I was surprised to find that she'd been
transferred from the hospital to the county jail on assault charges.
It took another round of phone calls for me to track her down.
Thankfully, her bail had already been set, so I was able to pull the
funds out of my bank account and go rescue her.

While I waited for
them to release her, I tried to figure out what I was going to say.
Should I act proud that she stood up to Chet, even if it landed her
in jail? Should I chastise her for going to the munch when I had
clearly told her it was a bad idea? Certainly, some type of lecture
was in order. But when she walked through the door, all I could feel
was relief.

“
Are
you alright?” I asked, quickly looking her over for injuries.

“
I'm
fine.”

“
Why
didn't you call and let me know what happened to you?”

“
Why
would I?” Her expression was confused. “I barely know
you, and you didn't seem too happy with me last we spoke. Thanks for
bailing me out though. I never would have expected it.”

“
I
can't believe that asshole pressed charges on you after everything he
put you through.” I scowled.

“
He
didn't. There were witnesses though, so the state pressed charges
against me.”

“
That's
just stupid,” I grumbled.

“
I
know. Let's get out of here though. I've been here longer than I
like.” She flanked my side to walk out the door.

It wasn't until we
stepped into my truck that I spoke again, “I, um. I'm proud of
you for sticking up for yourself.”

“
Don't
be.” Talia shook her head. “I was stupid. I don't know
what you were told about what happened, but I kind of lashed out at
him. He said something nasty, like he always does. I threw a drink in
his face. He attacked me. Sir Mark came to my defense, but you know
Chet. The bonehead is all muscle. It didn't take long for him to have
Mark on his back. I tried to step in and help and got caught by a
back-swing. I'm actually pretty embarrassed by it.” She pushed
a strand of hair behind her ear.
“
It
was stupid, but I'm still not sure I regret it. It's like all of my
anger came to a head, and I couldn't hold it in anymore. I just wish
I could have done more. I don't know how badly he got injured, or if
he was hurt at all.”

“
Not
as bad as you, if you got knocked out.”

She sighed, “
I'm
sure you're right. Can we not talk about it anymore? That asshole has
completely ruined my life. I never want to see him or speak of him
again.”

“
I'm
sorry.”

“
It's
fine. Just take me home.”

We drove the rest of
the way in contemplative silence. Talia was right. Chet had pretty
much ruined her life. Part of me knew it was because she let him, but
I couldn't help but feel sorry for her. Because of Chet, she had lost
so much, her sense of security, her enjoyment of submission, and her
clean criminal record. If she was lucky, she wouldn't get fired for
this.

“
Let
me know if you need anything,” I told her as I dropped her off
in front of her apartment.

She gave me a weak
smile, but didn't invite me in. “Thanks. You're a good guy,
Micah. A really good guy.”

I watched her walk
away, wishing I could do more, wishing I had done more to keep her
from getting into this situation. Somehow, I felt partially
responsible. Maybe if I had gone with her, it wouldn't have happened.
That probably wasn't true though. If I had gone with her, it likely
would have been me ending up behind bars, and I doubted she would
have bailed me out. It was a strange thought, how I cared so much for
her, how I would go so far for a girl who I barely knew.

***

Having to go to the
hospital was horrible and embarrassing, but ending up in jail was ten
times worse. It wasn't anything like I had imagined it would be. They
threw me into a cell with half a dozen other women in there for
various petty crimes: drugs, thievery, public intoxication. I was the
only one in there for violence, which made me the bad ass of the
group. For the mix of criminals though, we seemed like a fairly
normal bunch of ladies. Everyone had their reasons for what they had
done, though it didn't make it right.

Never before had I
felt more powerless, like an animal in a cage, awaiting my fate at
the hands of a heartless owner. Perhaps I'm being a bit dramatic.
Maybe I deserved what was happening. It sure didn't feel like it
though.

The vast majority of
my time in jail was spent waiting. Waiting and waiting and waiting
and thinking. I should have listened to Micah. He had been right all
along. Going to the munch was a bad idea. I think I had known it too,
but my stubbornness took over. Part of me had wanted to face Chet, to
prove to him that I wasn't a victim anymore. It had backfired, and in
the end, I was still a victim. The fact that I was the one on the
wrong side of the bars was proof enough of that.

When I had awoken in
the hospital, I tried to explain to the police about our abusive
past, why I had done what I had done. They simply looked at me like I
was some lunatic. There was no proof of my words, and about half a
dozen witnesses who testified to what I had done to him. The legal
system is shit sometimes. He got off scot-free, and I landed in jail.

I hated being
indebted to people. It felt like I owed Micah so much. How could I
ever repay what he had done for me. Not only had he rescued me at the
play party, but he had also put up the money for my bail. My parents
wouldn't even do that. Then again, explaining what had happened to
them was a whole other story. I kind of skirted around the details
during my phone call with them, praying they'd come to my rescue
based on the vague information I disclosed. They had always been the
tough love kind of parents though and eventually decided that since I
had gotten myself into the mess, I should be the one to get myself
out of it. It was a disheartening thought. After I hung up the phone
with them, I thought I was screwed, at the mercy of the legal system.

But then I received
the surprising information that someone had paid my bail. At first, I
thought my parents had changed their minds. When I saw Micah waiting
for me though, my heart dropped. Guilt flooded through me . . . and
questions. Lots of questions. The main one being why would he do this
for someone he barely knew?

When he dropped me
off at my apartment, I thought about asking him to come inside, but I
was too depressed and tired and confused. All I wanted was to take a
nice hot shower, to wash away everything horrible that had happened
to me, and to sleep in my own bed. It's amazing how much we take our
beds for granted. Sleep a night on a cold metal bench, and you'll
find a new appreciation for the luxuries of freedom.

I called my job the
next morning only to find that I had been put on probation until they
figured out whether to fire me or not. It was another blow to my
mental health. Damn Chet Goines. Never before had I wanted to kill
someone so badly. Serious murderous thoughts raced through my mind
for half a day, though I knew I wouldn't act on them. My life had
been screwed-up thanks to my association with him, but acting out in
violence would only mess it up more.

I wallowed around in
misery until the late afternoon, eating ice cream and watching movies
in my pajamas. Micah sent me text messages periodically, asking me
how I was getting along. In truth, I wasn't doing well, but I lied
and told him that everything was fine. I knew I would have to face
him sooner or later, have to compensate him for paying my bail. It
would be easy enough to write him a check, but I had a feeling that
he wanted something more.

What did I want
though?

It was something I
hadn't taken much time to think about. Ever since Chet, I hadn't been
very keen on the idea of giving myself up to another dominant man. I
had wanted control, because if I was in control, then I couldn't be
hurt. In truth, I enjoyed my time with Micah. Bossing him around was
fun, but what I most enjoyed was when I made him spank and flog and
tease me. He was good at that, good when I gave the control over to
him. Sure, I dictated the strength and speed at which he did things
to me, but for the most part, he was in charge of the pleasure. Was I
just fooling myself into thinking I was in control, calling him slave
to make myself believe that I was in charge? For as much as I didn't
like to admit it, he was right. The way I was doing things wasn't
conventional. I'd never seen a femdom video of a Mistress making the
slave spank her. It was always the other way around.

I was just using the
lifestyle to get what I wanted, but it was only because I was afraid.
My experience as a sub hadn't been the greatest, but my fetishes were
still there, my need to feel powerful hands upon me. Maybe I wasn't
built to be a Mistress, but I also refused to give up full control.
Why did these stupid rules matter so much to him? If he just gave in,
stopped caring so much about the technicalities, we could be perfect
together.

***

Days passed before
she finally called and invited me over. I was beginning to worry that
she had lost interest in me, that I had allowed myself to be used for
bail money. Was it really being used though if she had never asked me
to bail her out? I had done it because I cared, because I wanted to
make sure she was alright.

When she did finally
invite me over, I honestly wasn't sure what to expect, where we
stood. She had been so vague with communication lately. I decided not
to get my hopes up as I drove to her apartment. This visit would
probably be awkward. If I was lucky, the iciness between us would
melt quickly. If I wasn't lucky, she'd make some excuse about why she
didn't want to see me anymore, and that would be the end of it.

Talia opened the
door with a smile, though it seemed a bit off. There was a strange
tension between us, but I tried to ignore it as she allowed me to
come inside. As was normal when I visited her, there was something
cooking in the kitchen. Damn did the woman love to cook, and she was
great at it too. At least if this was the end, there would be a good
meal to send me off.

“
What's
for dinner tonight?” I asked teasingly.

“
Pot
roast.”

“
Sounds
great.”

She led me into the
dining room and sat me down at the table, serving me as she usually
did. Throughout the entire process, our eyes never met. Talia was
avoiding my gaze, and I wasn't sure why.

“
So,
you look like you want to say something,” I said finally.

She gave me a
puzzled look. “No. Nothing at all.”

“
You're
acting weird.”

“
It's
because I feel indebted to you.”

“
You're
not indebted to me,” I told her, watching as she sat across
from me.

“
Why
did you bail me out?” she asked while poking at her food with
her fork.

“
Because
I care,” I answered plainly.

“
Why
do you care though? You barely know me.”

“
I
think it's a bit obvious at this point, don't you?”

“
Spell
it out for me. I'm not in the mood for riddles.”

“
It's
not exactly a riddle. I like you. I feel bad for you because of what
Chet did. I want to protect you and help you.”

“
I'm
not your responsibility though,” her words were cold, striking
directly at my heart.