River Walk: Ten Kinky Collaborations (32 page)

Still, he was not done with me after I came down from that high he had given me. Rodney grabbed my hair, which was pulled to a ponytail on top of my head, and twisted it around his hand. He used my hair to pull me to standing as he stood as well. With a jerk, he yanked me forward over the arm of the chair, my bottom now pointing toward the ceiling. When I heard the crack, I knew what was coming next.”

I answer Akiyo’s nonverbal but obvious inquiry. “Surely, you’ve heard someone take a belt, fold it in half and quickly pull? The cracking sound it makes?” She nods, “Well, from that noise alone, I understood that a whipping was about to occur. It’s funny. There is this anxiety of the first strike. One can almost psych themselves out from mulling over it too long, especially when the Master is snaking the leather down your backbone, under your cheeks, over the back of your thighs. Not knowing where or when or how hard the strike will be, it’s mentally more excruciating than the lick of the leather. Once that first lash hits, though, the scorching heat, rhythmic pulsing of skin, the dull ache once the bite subsides is simply,” I breathe, “glorious.” Even now, I sense stirrings down below from the memory of Rodney’s belt. “Rodney tested me that evening for sure. He switched between wallops with the folded leather and cracks from further away with the full length of the strap, the tip biting, burning.” I close my eyes, reliving the sensations. “My hisses inhaling on each thwack bit by bit altered to whimpers. While there was agony, that torment was mixed, no added, to the carnal cravings. The intensity of both feelings, pleasure and pain, heightened my sensitivity. I promise if he had even placed one finger near my cleft, I would have exploded immediately,” I titter. Akiyo grins, though she still seems dumbfounded.

“Interspersing the whipping, Rodney would yank my hair, contorting my body back to whisper in my ear, ‘You love this don’t you, you filthy, depraved whore?’ The words…you would think that they would make me want to push him away, fight him off, but they only made me want him more. Once I could barely moan or answer verbally to Rodney, he stopped. I was slumped still across the arm of the chair, my face in the cushion, spent, nonetheless still not released.

Yet, our time together was still not finished. Ice cubes. He ran the freezing squares across the burning flesh.” I shiver as though I can actually feel the ice even now. “His tongue lapped the droplets distracting me for the moment when he stuck the melting block right into my wanting hole. I jumped, and once again he tugged on my hair. Even as my hot little pocket melted the ice completely, my flesh became almost numb, and I believed at this point that I would surely be denied another orgasm since I was granted one that night as I stayed in my position, Rodney no longer touching me. I was wrong.

I felt the pressure of his stiff cock entering my pussy, his hands squeezing into my hips. When I felt his balls against me, he twisted my hair around his fist, pulling my head back. He nipped my ear saying ‘You’ve been flawless.’ My chest ballooned with happiness, and another emotion, perhaps love? I wanted him. I wanted him to want me, for more than just one session. Rodney was who I wanted as a Master, Dom.

As he began to ride me roughly, I came back to reality noticing Jimi and the others standing audience to our display. Jimi showed no emotion, except for the blaze in his eyes.

Even with all of those eyes watching over us, the only thing I felt was Rodney, slamming into me, jerking my hair, biting my neck, Rodney. I climaxed like I have never before in my life, never since, a detonation of my pussy from the trigger of his cock. He collapsed atop me, running his lips from the crook of my neck up to my ear, and the minute that Rodney whispered, ‘I want you for mine, Libby,’ I knew that if he really meant it I would run away with him right then. Then, he removed himself from me; I immediately missed his body connected to mine. I sank to my knees, back into position, only catching his eye one last time when he brushed my cheek with his fingertips to say, ‘Thank you, Sir.’

My focus once again was on the fibers of the carpet, but my head envisioning those emerald eyes, his voice, my inner turmoil. I imagined myself at Rodney’s feet, not Jimi’s. Though Rodney was harsh, there was also affection in his attentions. It sounds odd when you think about all of the things he had just done to me, but he had a tenderness that none had ever shown me before. It was a combination that I had always longed for. I began to fantasize about living with Rodney, not Jimi, sharing a life, a home…Once I had the courage to disobey by seeking him out with my gaze, his back was disappearing through the door, and Jimi was glaring at me in disapproval. At that moment, I did something that I never had. I prayed. I prayed that I would see Rodney again, and if I did, I would offer myself to him.”

“Did you, Libby? Did you wind up with Rodney?”

I feel my eyes glisten, “No, Akiyo. I hoped. I made excuses to wait to start planning the wedding. I pushed it off for as long as I could. Finally, I took it as a sign that Rodney was not going to come back into my life. He’s my
one that got away
.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Libby, you’re getting out soon, maybe even the end of this week. Would you like me to go to your home and get anything for you or do anything for you? Maybe I can get groceries or just go freshen up the place for you before you head back home once we find out your discharge date? You’ve been gone quite a while.” Akiyo has continued to visit me after her shifts end, no matter the time, and as I am always here.

“That is very kind of you, but you don’t have to do that, Akiyo.”

“I know that I don’t have to, but I would like to make sure that when you get home you are as comfortable as possible.”

“You are a godsend, Akiyo. I really don’t know what I’m going to do without seeing you every day,” I laugh, but I mean it. This young woman has become a confidant, and friend to me. It’s been fun having a girlfriend to chat with, even if she is young enough to be my daughter, for that matter.

“Now that you are allowed, would you like to take a walk? We can talk and maybe sit on the portico by the gardens. The flowers are blooming. Besides the fresh air will be a nice change, don’t you think?” She assists me in standing from the bed and helps me as I slip my arms through a second hospital gown backwards, wrapping the opening around my front to cover what would surely be my exposed bum otherwise. “See, Libby, I can at least go get you some things to wear, a robe or something, so you do not have to bear these anymore.”

“True enough,” I cave to her offered help. “Okay, I’ll give you the key, if you truly don’t mind.”

Akiyo loops one of my arms through hers, keeping me a little balanced as we begin our short trek to the outdoor seating area for staff, family, and patients who are well enough to enjoy it. “So tell me, Libby, did you ever marry Jimi? Did you go through with it?”

I pat her hand on my arm with my free hand. “Oh, yes, I did,” my voice has a tinge of sadness, however, I smile slightly as Akiyo helps me to one of the seats in the shade of the gardens. She then takes the seat next to me. “As I said, I pushed off the planning for quite a while after that night, giving excuses of being focused on work, then not being able to decide on a big wedding or small, colors…At first, Jimi seemed okay with the plans moving slowly. Then, he began to become more persistent. I never quite understood why especially because we never made the move to live together beforehand. Hell, we rarely spent a full night together, and never at his place. That should have been my second sign. The first was my hesitancy to even go through with the wedding.” I shake my head and focus on the orange, yellow, purple and pink mums and marigolds among the green. Sigh, “I was in denial, I guess. But yes, we did eventually marry. It was funny because we had a better honeymoon than I had anticipated. Then we came home, and outside the door of his house, he kissed me gently, sweetly. I thought that maybe all of my doubts were just needless worries, and we could be happy. I had finally come to live in his home, or domain. Yes, domain describes it better because it was not a home. When the honeymoon was over, everything changed. From the first day back, the moment my suitcases hit the floor inside of that door, he dictated over me in all matters.

You see, before then, he only asserted his rules when we were in scene. My outside life, my time with friends, my work, he never spoke a word of it. I lived just as normally as everyone else outside of our kink, until that moment. Any hope that I had of us being happy was quickly squashed.

I do not joke when I say that he handed me a list, an actual paper list of his rules.” I give a curt nod, when Akiyo jerks her head and opens her mouth flabbergasted. “Yes, he handed me this list and told me that he expected me to memorize it by the next day, and to begin undertaking all of the responsibilities that were now mine, and mine alone, including directives on my behavior in public with or without him. He then led me to the bedroom and opened one of the closet doors. He had taken it upon himself to buy me a wardrobe that he deemed suitable of the woman who was his wife.”

“What the hell?” Akiyo gasps.

Raising one shoulder, I answer, “I rationalized that due to his work, he wanted his wife to be seen in the quality of style that would only seem appropriate to a CEO of a rather well-known proprietary trading firm. There were many business dinners and events and galas where I was expected to be on his arm, quiet and pretty, as he schmoozed and played Mr. Bigshot. I deemed it to be an acceptable request since I had agreed to enter his world. In fact, I found it slightly humorous because of his secret and what most considered perverted inclinations.” I make light of it now, but I recall my heart cracking during this instant. “I just assumed that he needed me to look the part of a trophy wife. I went along with it, and thanked him as it was a magnificent wardrobe that before then, I would have never imagined owning.”

Akiyo’s stern face gives away that she believes that I accepted the situation without difficulty. She sees right through me, and I cannot face her. I turn back to watch a bee flit amongst the blooms. Folding my hands in my lap, I continue the tale.

“Along with the makeover, Jimi thought it best that I also improve my conversation skills. Though, my foul mouth was deemed perfectly fine during our times of play, anytime other than when deemed permissible by him, I was expected to speak with the utmost decorum.”

“Mmmhmm,” Akiyo hums out in a manner of understanding.

I acknowledge her, “Yes, you’re right. I did not always speak in this
classy
way. For goodness sake, I was a free love, free spirit, hippie,” a slip of a chortle skims from my lips. “But, at first, the demands seemed…sensible.” The reminiscences engross my whole self. I swear that I feel my stomach churn and the lump in my throat. “The first time,” I swallow audibly, “the first time that I did not live up to his standards at a client dinner, he reprimanded me in front of everyone. He did it in a way that was comical to those around, hinting at my idiocy, but under the table he poked into my outer thigh with a two pronged seafood fork. The gesture letting me know, obviously he was not pleased with my behavior. When we returned home, he banished me into the guest bedroom until he gave me permission to enter his again. He told me that he did not want to hear my shrill, disrespectful voice. He did not speak to me for three days, not one word, not one glance. He did leave a list adding to my responsibilities.” I rub my hands remembering the feel of rawness in those days. “The household chores were ever increasing. I had long stopped seeing my friends. Eventually, I was staying up most of the night trying to tackle my list to perfection after my days at the office. Jimi decided that in order for me to be a better wife that I should give up my job. Granted I did not have an affluent job as a secretary, but I enjoyed it. Believing that it would make Jimi happy, and perhaps a little less strict, I complied.”

Closing my eyes, I pinch the bridge of my nose, “Let’s suffice it to say that nothing made Jimi happy, at least with me.” I feel Akiyo squeeze my shoulder and lightly rub my back. Eyes still clasped shut, the rest comes out a little quiet and rushed. I hadn’t really thought about this in years, pushing all of the pain, feelings of inadequacies, and revulsion deep within to an inner vault, wrapped in dozens of chains in hopes that they would never emerge.

“Jimi wasn’t a real Dom. He was an aberration. He did not want someone to spend life with as partners, even if that someone was willing to submit everything to him. He wanted complete and utter power over someone. I spent far too long locked there.

It all clicked for me when we were at Jimi’s cousin Julia’s wedding at the River Walk in San Antonio. It was a small, but lovely affair held outdoors. I remember sitting among the blooming trees along the bank of the river. I watched Julia and her groom up there in front of all of us, glowing, and the way he looked down at her with such adoration. When they kissed, you could feel the mutual love they felt for each other.

All during the reception, I found myself studying this newly married couple, their obvious affection for each other, the closeness they shared. As the evening grew darker, so did my mood. Standing amongst Jimi’s family, I looked over at him. He caught me and stared back at me. His eyes were cold, hard, like two emotionless stones. I knew that we had been living a lie, no matter how much I lied to myself about it, and I could not stand it any longer. I turned to Jimi who had not spoken a word to me all evening. In that beautiful setting of candles, flowers, laughter, I snapped. I did not care that his parents were right next to us, nor the other guests scattered closely around. I tapped him on the shoulder to get his attention. I said to him, probably a little too loudly, ‘I can’t do it anymore. I’m done. I refuse to spend another second with you.’ Those around us gasped, and Jimi tried to grab me reaching for my arm, but I stepped back quickly saying, ‘Don’t even try it. It’s over, and you have no control over me anymore.’ Maybe, subconsciously, I knew that he would be less likely to make a scene in this setting. Whatever the case was, the River Walk was the turning point in my life for me. After eleven years, and Jimi no longer bothering to even try to hide his infidelities and his contempt of me, for I was nothing more than a servant at this time, I filed for divorce. That was in the year 2000.” One salty tear slides down to my lip. I lick it away, while shoving those memories back into the locked box where they belong.