Chords that Bind Ch. 10

She was breathing deeply, and took a few steps lower, lest James hear her from her hiding place. She closed her eyes, and for the first time dared to fantasize...

She was tied up again, but this time the music was different: It was the powerful piece James was playing just a few steps away from her. She felt hands caressing her body through her clothes, but they weren't her own, they couldn't be, she was tied up. She strained against the rope binding her arms above her head. Sweat was misting over her whole body. If only he would touch her.

But it wasn't Master. It was James, and he was playing the music that was driving her wild. He stood up from the piano bench, but the music didn't stop, Cecilia knew the piece so well that her mind filled in the blanks. He walked towards her, and Cecilia prayed for him to untie her, to free her, as she knew he would. Instead though, he tilted her chin up and kissed her. Cecilia melted, pulling her body towards him moaning. His hands travelled down her body...

At the climax of the second movement, James took a longer pause than usual. The open space pulled Cecilia out of her fantasy. She snapped her eyes open, and tore her hands away from her body. She had been poised to play with her clit. She was so wrapped up in the music and desire that she forgot herself entirely. Shaking her head, and scolding her foolishness she silently bounded down the stairs, frightened James would catch her, would know what she had been doing.

She locked the door to her room, but James had begun the second movement, she could hear it again through the air vent. She was soaking wet. She threw herself on the bed and tore her clothes off, so ready to achieve the fantastic orgasm her imagination had dangled so temptingly in front of her.

She surrendered to the fantasy again, it was carried on the music, and Cecilia closed her eyes, ready to fall over the edge. It was going to be different this time...

His long fingers dexterously toyed with her, sending light tickling sensations down her tummy and sides. She was so small he could almost wrap his hands completely around her waist. His blue eyes were penetrating, seeing something deeper inside her than her frightened eyes, and flushed cheeks. He saw straight through to her conflicted helplessness and she was laid bare. Both knew exactly what she was. Without further teasing, James guided his talented fingers to her folds, smiling knowingly at her wetness, saying nothing, letting the knowledge hang in the air between them. He found her clit and started drawing the slow, wide circle, drawing her panting breath, quickly increasing pressure and speed. "Please? Please, Sir, Please..." He kissed her once more then nuzzled her neck, leaving kisses up to her ear, whispering; "Come for me."

Ceciliafinallyfelt it. It was so much more satisfying than the tiny orgasms she had brought herself to up until now. Release traveled up her spine, and she felt her joints loosen all over her body. It didn't last long, but it was finally a properly intense climax. Panting on the bed, Cecilia heard the music stop. She worried momentarily that she would be caught, that someone would know her secret. But that was absurd. She wasn't bound by those rules anymore. In fact, she had just freed herself in a monumental way, taking back some of the pleasure she had been denied during her incarceration with Master. She breathed easier; upstairs, James started a light classical piece that was too happy for her taste.

Then why did she feel so dirty? She felt like a shameful slut. Cecilia analysed the things she imagined. Things that had been forced on her, were now somehow, in her freedom, turning her on. The uncomfortable truth was that imagining James in Master's place was scary, and she didn't want anyone to have that kind of power over her ever again, but just thinking about James made her stomach twist in knots and flip for good measure.

Now that Cecilia was sure he wasn't going to rape and enslave her, Cecilia found James immensely attractive. She had been right when she detected intelligence in his gaze, and the clearness in his stare made her feel like he knew her better than she knew herself. James' unruly blonde hair was boyish, but he carried himself like a man. The elegance in his baring though, was of a roguish, semi-docile, gentleman. Now that she knew James was safe, Cecilia had a hard time putting him from her mind, and here she was, fantasizing about him. He strode into her subconscious unbidden, forcing her to look on her abduction and training with a different lens entirely. The music he played was the same, but it wasn't meant to torment her. She knew that now...

It was no good. Cecilia didn't want to think too hard on what was happening. Instead she grabbed a jacket and took a walk in the bracing English air, hoping to cool her thoughts and forget what she had done.

Cecilia ran into Abraham outside, who was surprised to see her wandering on her own. She rarely did so. "Care for company?" Abraham asked.

"Sure." Cecilia was happy to have a friendly face with her. She wasn't really comfortable being alone outside the house, and after her brief spurt of disgust with herself, was afraid of wandering too far without anyone with her. 'Coward' she thought to herself, but all the same, was relieved that Abraham offered to join her.

"Have you thought about what I asked you the other day?" Abraham asked.

"About contacting my friends in the States? I have."

"Well, if you want to, I can get you a phone that'll make international calls."

"There's no need Abraham."

"Why not? Don't you have people you want to call, let them know you're all right?"

Cecilia was silent as she walked on, hoping that Abraham would respect her privacy.

"Cecilia? Your friends? Family?" Abraham was trying to be helpful with his suggestions.

"No. I don't."

"Why not? Come on now, I'll bet they're worried sick. You should have called them to let them know by now. You don't have to be shy about asking for assistance or resource. James, Clara, me, we're all here to help you."

"I haven't got anyone to call, okay?" Cecilia was angry. First with herself for the episode on the staircase and her subsequent orgasmic fantasy, and secondly with Abe for pushing this unwanted discussion. They had been so respectful of her feelings up to this point.

"What do you mean? Cecilia, are your parents dead? What about your other family?"

"Please don't do this." Cecilia pleaded, hoping to evoke more pity. Pity from Abraham was preferable to this line of questioning.

"I'm trying to help you."

"They aren't dead, but they haven't spoken to me in years. I'm dead to them, alright? I'm dead to my whole family. I haven't got any friends, and no one in America is worried about me!"

"That can't be true, you're a lovely person, I'm sure that there's someone who noticed you missing. After all-"

"No. No one. I appreciate it though. But I don't want to talk about this anymore."

Abraham was a bit taken back by her forcefulness, but was happy to see Cecilia could still hold her ground if she wanted to. He felt terrible about making her upset. He could sense she had already been distressed over something.

Before Abraham could continue badgering her about her nonexistent friends and the family that shunned her, Cecilia asked him, "So when does James perform? He's been practicing non-stop."

That made sense to Abraham. James' single-mindedness when he was preparing for a performance had often driven him away from the house after hearing the same sonatas over and over. It had to be driving Cecilia nuts, with as much as she stayed in the house.

"I think he'll be starting his tour next month, but who knows? Maybe we'll have you safe back home by then and you won't have to hear Bach or Rachmaninoff ever again!"

Cecilia felt depressed at the thought of never hearing James play again.

"Don't you like his playing?" Cecilia felt a bit defensive of James. She was coming to think of him as her savior.

"Sure. Sometimes hearing him practice the same things over and over again drives me up a wall though. Doesn't it get on your nerves sometimes?"

"No," Cecilia admitted, "not at all." She sounded a bit dreamy as she said that, and Abraham gave her a searching look, wondering if maybe destiny hadn't played a part in bringing Cecilia to England.

***

For the next few weeks, Cecilia tried to get out of the house more often. She wanted to be free of the erotic torment that plagued her every time James played a single note, but she couldn't keep away entirely. Some mornings she woke up to the music, and closing her eyes, thought of James as she brought herself to a tension-relieving orgasm.

On one of Clara's rare days off from the ballet, Cecilia thought to slyly inquire about James. Her curiosity about him was limitless, and Clara knew him very well. She wanted to know about the man who had 'ordered' her and set this sudden and strange phase of her life in motion. Cecilia couldn't make out how Master, James, and herself were all connected. But she knew she was somewhat infatuated with James, and was worried, not fully trusting her judgment as far as he was concerned.

The two women were baking shortbread for the company's charity cookie exchange, and Cecilia thought it was a good time to gather more information. "Clara, how did you meet Abraham?"

Clara was always happy when Cecilia was talkative. "Well, through James actually. It was my first season with the company, and at the midseason gala, the chorographer introduced me to the breakout pianist who everyone was excited to have attending. That was James." Clara added needlessly, "And James, well he took a liking to me right away, and I found him somewhat intriguing. We chatted for a bit over champagne, and he asked me to join him for aproperdrink after the party..."

Cecilia smiled. Once Clara got going, she always went on for a bit, and she seemed happy to tell this particular story. "So I went with him, and he had a scotch and I was sipping on my G&T, and I was getting a bit tipsy... Anyway he had a call on his mobile, and told the person on the other line to stop by the pub where we were drinking. I'd had a drink too many by that point, I was so excited to be talking with real artists and at my first gala for the Royal Ballet, as an Irish girl no less! And then there was this suave pianist talking me up. And I stepped off my barstool and lost my footing. I should have fallen right on my face, and instead these big arms caught me so easily, and set me back on my seat so gently. That was Abraham. It had been Abraham on the phone with James, his best mate."

Cecilia felt envy and regret shoot through her. Clara was so in love with Abraham, it was written clear across her face. She shouldn't have judged Clara the way she did when she first woke up here.

Clara had paused in her story, but after taking a second to reminisce and take a breath, she continued. "Well, I was in real trouble then. I was sandwiched between these two powerful men, ever so slightly drunk, and both of them wanted to see me again. How that went to my head! Both of them were so powerful in their own way." Clara was smiling, remembering, "They took me back to my flat though, each asking slyly to take me out." Clara giggled.

"I loved having their attention. But that wasn't tenable, and I knew, I knew the instant Abraham caught me in that bar that I was his. It's not that James isn't a wonderful person; it's just that he isn't my soulmate. But it was funny to watch them try to outdo each other for a minute there. James would send orchids, and Abe would write letters... oh, those two! I love them both actually." Clara had a dreamy look on her face. She seemed to realize she'd gotten carried away. "Sorry. I just love our story though, Abe and me."

"No. I like it too." But it wasn't quite everything Cecilia wanted to know. So she probed again. "James and Abraham are like brothers, aren't they?"

"Oh yes. Ever since university. I'm glad I didn't come between them. I was afraid I would at the beginning though."

"Are they- are they alike in their tastes?"

"What do you mean?"

Cecilia tried to word her question carefully. "What James-" she took a deep breath, "the things that, Master -I mean, that man-, did to me, is that what they both like?" Cecilia was beet red.

Clara understood. Her loyalty to Abraham and James ran deep, and her comfort in her identity was solid, but she didn't feel comfortable being the one to tell Cecilia these things. She was trying to puzzle out how to tell Cecilia the truth without scaring her to pieces. It was such a difficult thing to explain under normal circumstances, let alone with the way Cecilia had been introduced to the lifestyle...

"Actually, yes." She saw Cecilia blanch. "But it isn't like what that man did to you at all. It's something the three of us share actually." Cecilia's eyes were widening with disbelief. "Not together, not all three of us together... it's more like an identity, or an orientation, Cecilia. James and Abraham are both sexually dominant. As for me, I think you already know, I'm submissive."

After having those words ripped out of her under duress, Cecilia couldn't believe how calmly, howproudly, Clara said them to her. "It isn't like what happened to you though." Clara repeated herself. "Abraham filled me in about some of the things that happened to you. Abraham doesn't do anything without my permission; he doesn't hurt me in any way. It's just, a way for us to have a deeper connection, a fiercer commitment. We can be ourselves, fully, together."

Clara looked at Cecilia, who seemed ready to burst into tears. Clara made it sound so natural. "Then what about me? What about James?" Outrage was tingeing her questions now.

"Cecilia, I know you haven't dealt withanyof this yet, and I'm glad you're starting to be able to talk about it, really. But I'm not sure you want answers from me."

Cecilia's whisper was panicked. "I do. I need to. I have to know."

"I can't answer for you. No one can. But as for James, he's alpha, and dominant, and all the things that Abraham is, in that regard. But he's not a monster, and I promise you he never wanted to hurt you, or anyone. He would never engage in the lifestyle without consent. When I told him I wanted to belong to Abe, he was happy for us, invited us to share his home, be his family."

"How do you know? Why didhe, -Master-, why did he say James ordered me? Why did he 'train' me the way he did to fit James' 'tastes'?"

"Cecilia, I don't know. You'll have to ask James."

"You have to know! Please!" Cecilia was bordering on hysterical now, tears leaking from her pretty hazel eyes.

"Look, I don't have all the information. I do know that once he realized you were in danger he didn't stop until he rescued you. I know he feels wretched about what happened."

"Why though? Why did I end up there? Don't you- Do yousubmitto him?"

"Oh heavens! No!" Cecilia thought she offended Clara, but she laughed instead. "It's not like that at all. Abraham is my husband. We're in a monogamous relationship. I don't have any attraction to James."

"But you just said you loved them both." Cecilia was seriously confused.

"I love James like a brother. He's Abraham's best friend, and one of my dearest friends as well, but no. I don't love him like that, or submit to him. Actually, I quite often tell him when he's being unreasonable. That's not to say there's anything wrong with polyamory, but that's not my thing, or Abe's, or James' for that matter."

"So, what about James? Why doesn't he have a submissive? Doesn't he need one? Is that what I was for?"

Clara sighed, feeling uncomfortable speaking for James, but felt she should reassure Cecilia as much as possible. "He doesn'tneeda submissive. Well, he does, actually, because he's so lonely... but you don't pick them up at the shops with the groceries. He could use agirlfriend. He's been single for years, ever since Josephine left him for choosing music over status."

"Wait, what?" Cecilia hadn't thought there would be another woman. She assumed that had been the role she was selected to play.

"James had a fiancé, Josephine. When James stopped practicing law, she left, took the ring and part of his heart with her. She only wanted James for his money and connections. When he chose to overlook those things for art, she left him. But I never met her. I met James and Abraham after she was out of the picture. James is still a bit torn up over her."

"Did he want those things fromher?"

Clara heard steps on the stairs, and quickly started working the shortbread dough. She had been distracted answering all of Cecilia's questions, trying to maintain openness and a feeling of safety, but she didn't want James hearing this conversation. Cecilia was going to repeat her question, but Clara cut her off with a look. "You'll have to ask him the rest yourself."

"Ask me what?" James entered the room. Cecilia blanched. She hadn't noticed his approach. Clara was quick with an answer. "How the U.S. Embassy is coming along with Cecilia's passport and the like?"

James furrowed his brow, sighing. "Still no news unfortunately, but don't loose hope. I always keep my promises. I just came down for a drink of water." He snagged a bottle from the refrigerator. "I'll leave you ladies to your baking." James exited quickly and politely.

Cecilia followed him with her eyes, and Clara noticed. When she was sure James was out of earshot, she answered. "I don't think it mattered, to answer your question. She wasn't arealsubmissive. She was pretending, only after him for what he could provide for her. But from what Abraham said, James was content with what Josephine gave him. Abe hadn't really liked her, she wasn't good enough for James, he claims, and I'm sure he was right."

"He loved her very much?" Cecilia asked. There was longing there. Clara detected it. "He did. But apparently, that wasn't enough." Clara replied matter-of-factly. She concentrated on the shortbread, feeling a sliver of hope for James yet.

"You need to talk to James. You need to get some closure. I can't help you understand because I'm a bit foggy on the details myself. But he's a good man. He's been shutting himself away because he's so ashamed. It's something he does when he's upset." Clara knew she was treading a dangerous line between comforting Cecilia, and meddling in James' affairs, but she felt it was a time to be bold first, and apologetic second.

Cecilia wasn't sure about this advice. She didn't know what to do, or how to approach James. He had been so... professional, aloof even, that she thought he was trying to distance himself from her, the burden that was living in his home. But that distance was part of the allure. James hadn't done any of the things she feared. Rather, he was trying to help her. Cecilia so wanted him to be safe, wanted to trust her growing attraction to him, and the fact that he didn't force anything on her. She wanted him to want her too. She had to know the reason they had been thrust together in this befuddling way.

"Sometimes, in the morning, I bring a cup of tea, and some toast with marmalade up to the attic. James forgets to eat when he's practicing sometimes. Talk to him. Then you'll have all the answers you need." Clara suggested this, knowing that James would appreciate the gesture and the intent behind the act.

When the cookies were finished baking and packed in tins, Clara saw a new resolve settle on Cecilia. She gave her a hug, and felt the tiniest bit smug about leading Cecilia to James.

***

Cecilia woke early, having set her alarm she showered and then dressed herself in one of the feminine dresses Clara had brought her. Satisfied that she looked decent, Cecilia ventured to the kitchen to put on a kettle and make some toast. She was going to take Clara's advice. She needed to know how and why everything that happened to her had come to pass. Maybe then she could shake the shadows that lingered and the questions that came with uncomfortable answers.