Temporary Master (4 page)

“Whoa!” Davis held up his hand, chuckling. “I do believe you know
the material almost as well as Ethan.” He gave Lauren a look. “If she’s as
experienced with the actual practice of it and not just the theory, I might
just forgive you, Lauren.” An expectant look crossed his face. “Tell me, have
you been suspended before by a
nawashi
?”

“A rope master?”
Sabella shrugged.
“No, unfortunately not.
My last Master preferred the much more functional bondage that comes with
spanking and whipping. But before Lou….him I used to fantasize about it, and
even went to several shibari demonstrations. One Dom was nice enough to use me
as his model to show how to do the basic harness. It was great even if my feet
never left the ground.”

Davis’s smile grew wider. “Even without the suspension experience,
she’s perfect. Ethan couldn’t ask for a better candidate.”

Wariness crept back in as he rubbed his hands together.
“Perfect for what?”

“To be our model.
Due to some unforeseen circumstances, the submissive
who
was going to do the demonstration cannot. With your
agreement, I’d like you to meet my partner Ethan. I’m sure he’ll agree with me
you’d be perfect for it.”

Sabella froze, her world coming apart at the seams at his request.
This was the last thing she’d expected when she’d entered Bistro
Sabor,
She
had a feeling she was once again at a crossroads of her life and damned if she
knew which way to go.

“Dr.
Tremaine, your nine o’clock appointment is here,” Dolly, his receptionist spoke
softly from the door to his private office.

Sipping
on his
gyokuro
tea, Ethan nodded. The rare and expensive tea, which he
normally reserved for special occasions or those which he thought might be
particularly difficult, was an indulgence he was going to need today. The file
in front of him described a man who had severe domination issues to the extent
a court in both Chicago and New York had ordered him into therapy. It just had
been his luck that he was one of the few psychiatrists in the Napa Valley area
who specialized in such matters.

“Thank
you, Dolly, please take Mr. Vayarti to the therapy room. I shall join him
shortly.”

“Of
course.”
She gracefully backed out of the room, shutting the door behind her.

Continuing
to sip the green tea from the small ceramic cup, he thoughtfully gazed at the
pattern on it. Embossed with gold leaf and an intricate river scene, the
handleless cup fit perfectly in his palm. It was part of the tea set which had
been a wedding gift from Tamiko’s family shortly after they’d married. It was
one of the few things he’d brought to America when he’d left Japan nearly five
years ago. Despite its origin, the traditional cup paired with the delightful
taste of the
gyokuro
had the ability to sooth him, while still mentally
preparing him for the upcoming session.

Glancing
at the clock, he noticed it was two minutes until the hour and regretfully
finished his drink. Rising, he carried the cup over to the small sink in the
corner of his office. Rinsing the cup, he gently washed it before laying it on
the tea towel with the rest of the set. After drying his hands, he gathered up
the file and let himself out of his office, making sure to lock it. A
precaution he’d adopted considering his therapy room and office were in his private
home. The last thing he needed was another patient arriving and having access
to something they shouldn’t.

After
making sure his khaki pants and cotton shirt were lint free, he entered the
therapy room. He wasn’t surprised when his patient jumped at his entry.
Standing by the shelves on the far side of the room, a well-built man in his
early forties was playing with the small clay figurines Ethan collected. While
it
don’t
bother him, it surprised him considering what
he’d read in the file. He’d expected the man to be pacing, or even sitting and
reading. He wouldn’t have expected a man with dominance issues to be nervous.

“Hello,
I’m Dr. Tremaine.” He shut the door behind him.

“Louis
Vayarti.” The man tucked his hands into his pockets. “I hope you don’t mind but
your figurines are quite beautiful in their starkness. They don’t look to be
machine made though. They’re handcrafted, aren’t they?

“Indeed.”
Ethan wasn’t about to tell his patient that he’d created them as a form of
therapy after Tamiko had died.

“Do
you know by
who
? My mother loves art, in fact she owns
a gallery in Chicago now, and would probably jump at the opportunity to show
them.”

“From
my understanding, the artist is quite reclusive and did it as a way to relax.”

Louis’s
face lit up. “So you know the artist personally? Do you think you could
introduce me? Even if he’s not interested in a showing, my mother’s birthday is
coming up and I’d love to commission a set of them for her.”

“I
don’t think that’ll be possible.” Ethan forced a small smile. “He no longer
creates such things. I believe he found the peace he was looking for, and now
has no need to create any longer.”
More like no time.
The club and Sheila have kept me too busy to do much more than sleep.
“But
we’re not here to discuss art, are we Mr. Vayarti?”

“Please
call me Louis.” The dark haired man gave him a smile, before sinking into the
chair across from him. “After all you’re going to be probing my mind to try and
figure out why I flipped out. I think we should be on at least a first name
basis, don’t you?”

“Of
course, I have no issue with you calling me Ethan.” Ethan moved to the
comfortable leather chair sitting adjacent to Louis. “So why don’t you tell me
about yourself?”

Louis
shifted. “What’s there to tell that you haven’t got in your file there?” Louis
rubbed the back of his neck as if he were suddenly tired. “I’m an overworked
stock broker who, due to too much pressure at work, and a decided lack of
female companionship, flipped out after his father passed away. I moved out
here to Napa to pursue a business venture which would take me away from my
sordid past. I’m not even allowed into any of the clubs in Chicago and very few
in New York.” He looked directly at Ethan. “I regret what happened but I
honestly don’t know why I attacked Rena. I used to love her. She was always
good to me. Very submissive to my needs as a man,
which made
her the perfect lover for me.
Maybe that’s why I had a hard time
accepting she’d moved on after we broke up. The way she behaved was as if I were
her whole world.”

Ethan
attempted to judge what was actually happening inside the man’s head. “So
you’re telling me you once had a BDSM based relationship with your victim?”

“Yeah.
I did. We met in a club in New
York. She was perfect. Just the right amount of attitude but I could tell by
the look in her eyes, the way she carried herself, she was just waiting for the
right man to give control over to. For a while I was that man. And the night of
the attack I just wanted it back – even for a little while.” Louis smirked.
“But I bet you don’t understand? Why a man would want to a woman to submit to
him, let alone a woman’s reasons for doing it?”

“I
understand a lot better than you’d think, Louis. A surge of adrenaline as a
woman gives over to you, placing her welfare in the palm of your hands.
Trusting in your control and restraint you’ll eventually give her the
domination she craves. It can be quite addictive.”

Louis’s
face lit up. “So you do understand! My last shrink didn’t have a clue what I
was talking about…”

Ethan
held up a hand. “While I do understand the need to dominate and even condone it
under the right circumstances, the reason we’re here is because of your
inability to distinguish between consensual play and non-consensual. What you
may have had originally with this Rena was most likely consensual, was it not?”

“Of
course.”
The man looked offended by the question. “We even had a written contract
between us. I wanted to be sure everything was clear-cut for her. It wasn’t
until I brought home another playmate that she flipped out and walked out on
me. Up ‘til then everything we did together was what we both wanted.”

Ethan
gave a grave nod. “I see. So she was unhappy when faced with the reality of the
contract.”

Louis
shrugged “Well, it wasn’t exactly spelled out in the contract that I couldn’t
bring home another playmate for us to share. But every submissive knows a Dom
has the right to have as many submissives as he wants.”

Ethan
had to bite his tongue to keep from lashing out at the other man. It was men
with attitudes like this which gave the BDSM world a bad name. “But did you
actually have it outlined in the contract?

Louis
glared at him. “I didn’t think I had to. It’s common knowledge if you’re
involved in the scene. Doms get to have as many submissives as they like. The
only stipulation she asked for was that I not share her with another without
her consent. I wasn’t sharing her. I was fucking another sub that day. I truly
don’t know why she left - other than misplaced pride. It wasn’t as if she
wasn’t satisfying me. It was because she had been out of town and…well let’s
say a man has needs.”

Ethan
clenched the pencil in his hand tighter until his knuckles paled. “So this
relationship ended because of this situation?”

Sighing,
Louis toyed with a pill on his pants. “Yes. Before I knew it, she’d moved out —
lock, stock and barrel. It wasn’t until after my father died and my
relationship with the other submissive fell through, when I went to Chicago
after my mother. It was there I ran into her again.”

Scribbling
down a note in the margin to check with the Chicago P.D., he glanced up. “So
where did you run into her again?”

“My
mother’s hotel.
She’d come to talk to Mom about the security on her new gallery. I saw her
cross the room, and it suddenly hit me as I watched her walk so gracefully with
such purpose. It reminded me of our time together, and how with the mere flick
of my fingers her bravado was gone, and she was the needy woman she was born to
be.” Louis surged to his feet. “That’s when I realized I never should’ve let
her go. My wandering ways were going to have to stop, or I was going to have to
get better at not getting caught if I wanted her back.”

“And
did you talk to her about the idea of reconciliation before the attack?”

Louis
shook his head. “I should’ve, but I was arrogant and so sure of myself. I let
myself into her apartment and basically told her how it was going to be. But
instead of being grateful, she told me to get out. She never wanted to see me
again.” He raked his hand through his hair. “And I lost it. This was the woman
who’d given me everything and was now denying me. I…” Louis
stopped,
his voice cracking. “…I never meant to hurt her. It was like suddenly
everything went dark, and I was consumed by a rage I couldn’t control. She was
supposed to obey me without question. But she didn’t. She argued with me and…if
it hadn’t been for her boyfriend being there I probably would’ve done worse.
She was…I mean…is such a little thing. Only came up to my chest.”

Ethan
quickly processed the information Louis was giving him. Sure the man sounded
contrite but something about his story didn’t jive. There had to be more than
what the man was saying. Some of these details just didn’t add up. He spoke
eloquently but it almost seemed rehearsed. As if he were telling Ethan what he
wanted to him to hear.

“Well,
than perhaps it was a good thing that her boyfriend was there. Think of how
you’d have felt if you’d actually done worse.” Without even glancing at the
clock above the door, Ethan knew he had to wrap this session up, or he was
going to forget he was supposed to be the doctor helping Louis and instead wipe
the floor with his patient. Somewhere along the way, Louis Vayarti had gotten
his wires crossed when it came to his submissive. He’d forgotten the most basic
of rules. Safe, sane and consensual did not mean the woman was a doormat for
him to abuse. “All right our time is nearly up for today, Louis. I want you to
make me a list of what you hope to accomplish with this therapy — other than
fulfilling your obligations to the court, before our next appointment. Dolly
will let you know when it’ll be.” Ethan gathered up his folder. “Now if you’d
excuse me, I have another patient waiting.”

Louis
stepped forward with his hand held out. “Thank you for taking me on such a
tight notice, Dr. Tremaine. I promise I won’t let you down.”

Ethan
ignored the pro-offered hand. “No thanks are needed. I’m merely doing my job.
Once we get your goals in mind, I can set up an action plan.” He cupped his hand
over the other man’s shoulder. “Now, I really do need to scurry.” Ethan slipped
out of the room before Louis had a chance to protest.

“So
what did you do?” Mrs. Di’Angelo asked, gazing over the rim of her cup. In the
early morning sun, her midnight black hair shone with blue highlights. Just the
barest touch of silver at her temples gave away her true age. She hadn’t
changed much in the year Sabella had been gone, and for that she was thankful.
She was still the loving but strong-minded woman who’d wiped her nose as a
child. Perhaps that was why she was seated in her neighbor’s cozy kitchen,
discussing the idea of her being a model in a kinbaku demonstration. She could
give her some perspective on the issue.