Dark as Ivory Pt. 03

————

"What are you doing?" Tuesday giggled against where I held her on my love seat. We'd rented a movie and made dinner together, having a lazy date night.

I kissed her again, turning her face to mine and this time I teased her lips open with my tongue, smiling. "Movie turned very boring. But fortunately I have a slave to entertain me during my boredom."

She giggled up at me and purred, kissing me back for our make out session. Like two teenagers, we nipped at each other, tasting each other curiously. I held her away from my cock since she would have jumped me for it and that wasn't allowed just yet. I just wanted to be playful for a minute. "You taste like cinnamon now," she whispered with a giggle.

I chuckled, biting her lower lip. "So do you." Because we'd had a dessert of cinnamon rolls and shared a few shots of cinnamon Jack afterwards.

She laughed, breathless and so happy against me that it made my heart soar with amazement. "Wait! I have to go get something from the car before we keep going."

I sat back against the love seat with a grin. She'd told me she'd left something even when we'd gotten to my door and she was smart to bring it up now before I got started. Once I did, she would be mine until my dominance was satisfied. "Alright, go on. I wouldn't take too long though." I stroked my cock thoughtfully through my jeans while she swallowed. "Who knows what I might come up with if given the time?"

She giggled and threw a Twizzler at me from the coffee table while I laughed. "You're absolutely satanic, you know that?"

I grinned, watching her go to the door and delighting to the fact that she both felt comfortable enough to tease me and was scared enough to run from me. "Laveyan belief is actually just atheism and sexual intercourse has 17 letters, Two," I called after her.

She turned around with a bemused but laughing look. One might even say it was bemused and amused. Heh heh. "What? Okay, you're just spouting random shit to keep me longer so you can be more cruel and that's wrong of you." She turned and left, hurrying while I jumped up and waited by the door for enough time to pass that she would be out of sight. And then I still looked left and right to make sure.

True facts? Stalking someone is definitely not a glamorous thing. Oh, don't get me wrong, I had absolutely tons of fun doing it but it required some quick and not very graceful work every now and again. Like those times when I'd had to make sure that Two was distracted in her store and wouldn't see me hiding her blindfolds in the book. I had to both stay out of her sight and not get Tate's or Jackson's attention. And using binoculars to watch her masturbate? There's no way to hold those to your eyes and not feel like Jack Nicholson just led you from your cell for a fishing trip. But it was fun and it had led to even more fun.

Even after she saw my face I liked to play ridiculous games. I darted down my stairwell after her, snickering to myself. And when I reached the parking garage I had to skirt around a long ass way to get to my designated parking spaces, but it kept me out of sight, and I stayed back, grinning when she walked into view. She was already looking over her shoulder with laughter in her eyes because she knew me that fucking well. I had every intention of waiting for her to unlock my sports car and then grab her from behind while she squealed in laughter behind my palm. And then I'd fuck her in the back seat where the tint would hide us while I growled in her ear that her teasing me had made me too hard so this was all her fault and she didn't get to cum. She was just to take it and service me because she was a filthy little slut of a tease and deserved it.

Of course later I'd take her upstairs to my bed and make her scream while I ate her out. Maybe I'd make her lay on my table while I licked chocolate off of her. Two hated feeling sticky, I'd learned, and it made me happy to hear her beg for a shower, saying she felt gross even when she clearly didn't quite want to get up because she wanted to cum all over my tongue some more.

I never got the chance to do any of that. The smile quickly faded from my face with a sense of foreboding running up my spine. Something wasn't right and I didn't know what made it feel that way for me, but Two leaned down into my sports car and I didn't jump on her. She stood up with the papers she'd needed for work, still with a sense of wary playfulness in her eyes and it unfolded in front of me like a trainwreck happening.

I knew we'd been watched when we kissed in her store one night. And I knew I'd seen the figure other times too, but people being at her store late at night wasn't an odd occurrence. She operated those kinds of hours because it was smart for her business. But it had struck me as strange when she knew the person who'd seen us, when it wasn't someone who came in late at night.

In an ironic, terrible twist, I saw the garrote around her throat and her eyes went wide with first laughter and fear, and then just fear when her body knew that something was very wrong. The guy who'd seen us was not my size and she clawed at her neck instantly, so hard I saw blood even when I ran forward. And also ironically, where I had once been so aroused and incited by her blood and the sight of red anywhere on her body, I was aroused again at this in more ways than one. My cock was half hard, yes, but there was a more dominating sense of arousal burning through me.

It was the kind that a bull had where I felt like I could kill instead. Somehow I had the presence of mind to remember that murder is bad and we don't cross that line, but for a brief second it was a near thing. My fist hit the side of his head and he dropped and that was it. It was over as quickly as it'd started and I was looking down at his prone form, wondering how the hell I had managed that kind of restraint. My gaze lifted from the man, taking in the sandy hair, my guess of his height and weight, and then lifted to Two who stared down at him as well.

She shuddered, a single, full body shudder that made me scared to see. Her eyes lifted from her assailant to mine and she choked and her eyes scared me even more. They were wide and dilated and she choked again, as if she might throw up. I grabbed her shoulders, shaking her gently. "Hey. No, look at me, Two. No! I said look at me, Tuesday Holter. I didn't say to look back down." Her nostrils were flaring with her panicked breaths and I held her tighter. "Tuesday. Listen to me. It's okay, it's all okay." She whimpered and tears fell from her eyes while she just stared at me with a bereft expression that I wasn't going to forget for a long time. "Goddamnit Tuesday, don't you dare do this on me. You're my girl, my brave girl, and you don't let anyone get to you like this."

"What the fuck just happened?" It came out of her in a panicked yelp, a shrill sound that was too hoarse to be terribly loud.

There we were. Some words. I smiled gently at her. "I don't know, baby, but we really need to go inside and call the police and wrap you in a blanket. Come on. Let's get away from here and go somewhere safe. Can you do that for me?"

She nodded, eyes shining with her frightened tears and I discovered that I hated the sight of them when they weren't for me or safely for a game. These weren't the tears for me to lick. These were tears I rubbed away with the pads of my thumb and I hated them all the more because it felt like such a waste when her tears were gems more precious than my diamonds and tasted like decadence.

When I had her back in my apartment, I settled her into my loveseat, rubbing her shoulders while I did what any sane person would do and called the police for possibly the first time in my life. It was an interesting affair when they showed up because my attention was mostly on Two. I managed to pep talk her a little bit before they got there so that she was coherent. I introduced myself at the door while she stayed in the background of the apartment, as if she were hiding behind me. But when the two officers approached her, she had her voice under control and answered quietly. They noted the marks around her throat and she told what we had worked out together about who it was. I didn't touch her during these recantations because if I did I would end up stroking her hair soothingly or touching the back of her collar in a silent encouragement to be brave. And these were the kinds of things I liked to keep private. They were my things with Tuesday and no one else's.

But when they left? I let it out then. "Very good, baby. Now, you heard their recommendations to have a doctor look at those, right? Are you sure you don't want to go to an emergency room? I won't make you, Two, but I don't want a dead friend because you were too goddamned stubborn and fell into shock or some dumbass shit."

"Please, no." She whispered it in such a broken little voice that it tugged at my heart. "I just want to stay here and for you to t-tell me what to do. I don't want anymore decisions and I'm scared and-"

"Shh." I stroked her hair. "Hush. Pretty girl." She would get herself worked up again and I didn't want that if she refused to let someone check her vitals.

But I also had an issue with her request. I was absolutely capable of being nurturing for her, but my nurturing came with the dominance and my dominance came with sexual desires and that came with my harsh roughness. I could certainly refrain from cruelty but the harsh part? The part that was so strict and stern it was terrifying even when I tried to pull back on my sadism for submissives who couldn't take as much pain? That would bark out in my voice and I couldn't keep it entirely in check.

So I made an effort to compromise. We both needed to reassure ourselves of her safety after that. "How would a nice bath sound with some hot chocolate?"

But her eyes were still distressed when she looked at me. "I... that sounds good, I think."

God, I hated the events that would take my brazen fae and turn her into this scared little girl. She looked so lost and unsure of everything and I could understand that. I remembered that look on her face. First the fear and pleasure that was so quickly replaced with nothing but the fear. "Come on, Two. Let's keep you calm and clean up your neck."

I went through the motions, starting her water and getting a few things from the medicine cabinet. Things like antibiotic cream and gauze to cover her through the night. She hadn't cut herself very deep at all but it was in a visible place and I wanted to make sure that it would heal well so it wouldn't come back to haunt her.

When I turned back around Tuesday still stood where I'd left her, watching me. "Come on, baby. Strip. Now." I snapped my fingertips before I could even think about it, flinching even while she inhaled sharply and instantly scurried to obey, pulling off her shirt first. I'd had to let her wear bras every now and again with the good sense that support was a good thing but they were always of my choosing and underwear? She rarely wore that unless I was in the mood to have her message me with pictures of all the cum that collected in her thong.

Normally I would remind her of that, circle around her and massage that pretty pussy, asking her why she was bare for me. And she'd say, "Because I'm to always be available for you, master."

No. Bad. That was the sexual inserts in my day to day dominance. Not the kind we're going for right now, jackass. Take a bath, Tuesday, and take as long as you need." I needed to give her space or I'd start doing that shit automatically.

"Don't leave me," she whispered.

Ah, hell. Of course I couldn't give her space. "I won't."

Still she stared at me, not looking at the bath. I waited for her to obey me, and yes I'm fucking capable of patience especially when I'm in love and she's traumatized. And sure enough she finally voiced a little of her pain. "I got turned on." Tears filled her eyes. "Even when I knew it wasn't you, it still didn't go away."

"And I got hard off seeing you struggle, baby. But I still felt rage and I still wasn't okay with it. Your body reacts to fear, Tuesday. That's not something you can control and it's not a psyche problem. It's who you are."

She still stared at me for a little while but then she nodded. "I... I could see that. You can't even control it?" She asked it with a shy grin and I smiled.

"Fuck no. Come on, Tuesday, before the water gets cold." Somehow, hearing that from me seemed to do a little bit of the trick and I was abruptly very glad that I was the first person Tuesday went to. There were a lot of other people who wouldn't see it that way and a lot of other jackasses who would throw her under the bus for the games we played.

She settled down into the bath water, her expression still a little shellshocked but more alive and aware and she'd given me that grin. I didn't touch her, just sat beside her and thought about how strange the events had been. Had I somehow inspired or had something to do with this? The coincidence of my games with Tuesday and this event seemed too great. And then there was the fact that movies were complete bullshit when it came to dramatic events. They were both not as dramatic as they were portrayed while being more dramatic in a different way. For instance there hadn't been any screaming or sobbing, no breakdown during police questioning on Tuesday's part. As for the police interrogations, they had been procedural, pre-written instructions that worked.

But then there were the subtle things that were more dramatic, like that wary look in Tuesday's eyes when she glanced at the bathroom door. Like the way she touched her neck when she saw her reflection in the water, knowing the marks were there, and the way she sat still so stunned in the water. I sighed when my attention turned to her. She was swirling her fingers in the bath absently, but not entirely present and not washing off. I hadn't wanted to exert even this kind of control but my hands were reaching for her before the thought even finished in my mind. "Come here, pretty sub."

She obeyed so naturally and readily, leaning forward and lifting her legs for me to bathe. When I reached her hair, I spoke with a little more command, too much of it. "Head back, Two, and don't move." It was as natural to me as obeying was for her now.

But still I flinched from commands and tried. So hard, I tried. But then I went to bed with her. Whenever we got ready for bed before now I would give her some demeaning order, something like telling her to bend over the foot of the bed with her legs spread. But I wouldn't fuck her that way. I would merely stand behind her, touch her little pussy every now and again to see how wet she was, comment on it, and then I would ask her why I made her bend over if not to fuck. And she would be so aroused by then, just by the actions and questions and she would say, "For your viewing pleasure and my availability, master."

"Good girl. You bend over like a little slut because you are my little slut."

That night, I did none of that and I got her silken pajamas that she never wore anymore. For a moment she blinked but then dressed and curled into the bed. I thought the crash of adrenaline would be more than enough to make her sleep. It wasn't.

She woke first with a soft cry until I wrapped one arm around her and caressed a few lingering marks from a previous session with the other. But then she woke again, tossing beside me, and I hesitated, but then tried my hand curled around her throat. And that worked for a while too, like a charm, enough that she stopped shivering and went still. But again it didn't last. She shook all over beside me the next time and I sighed. Because I had a feeling I knew what would work. "Be right back."

I got her cuffs and another matching set and some rope. I worked quickly when I went back to her, cuffing her wrists first and loosely tethering them together and to her collar's O-ring. There was carefully not a lot of stricture but enough that she would feel the tug when she tossed. I did her ankles the same way while she stared up at me. "I'm sorry," she whispered.

For her answer, I kissed her forehead and curled beside her again. "Don't be."

And after that, she didn't shift at all.

————

No matter my intentions, the only thing that soothed her random little shocks of terror was dominance. When she was scared to leave for her store, I commanded her on what to wear and the route she was to take, telling her to call me when she got there. And, like an angel, she nodded and said, "Yes, master" and obeyed gladly. A few days afterwards she did something she'd never done before.

She tested me. I had taken to giving her small commands when she left to make her feel safe and we had silently fallen into the routine of her staying at my penthouse. And through anything she was to call me if something held her up or if anything at all happened. And then one night she was thirty minutes late.

It was just thirty minutes, but the problem was it was exactly thirty minutes. So I knew exactly why she was doing it. Beyond that, there was fear and anticipation in her eyes as soon as she walked in the door. She looked right at me as if in expectation and stood dead still while I smiled thoughtfully, setting my scotch aside and studying her. I hadn't touched her since it'd happened, hadn't had sex because I thought it was too soon. But that, too, posed a problem. Our sex life had exploded together and I had taken to indulging in her and her pain so much that three times in a night was a lazy movie date night. Now that had come to an abrupt halt and she was getting more and more restless.

"My, little Tuesday. This is the first time you've ever put me to trial, by my count. Which leads me into a predicament. I could either be a bad master or a bad boyfriend at the moment, since adding strain is not, theoretically, a very good way to help you right now."

She swallowed and shivered, but then stayed silent, staring at me as if waiting. I studied that look for a long while, noting that it was both wary and held a smallest bit of defiance. Not so much insolent defiance. No, this was more like the defiance of someone craving a little structure. And that was what made me decide. "Come here, little Tuesday."

She obeyed. "Yes, master."

I stood up from my chair and gestured to it while taking my belt off with my other hand. "That look in your eyes says that's enough of a break for the both of us. I miss our playful nights together. Take your jeans off and bend over with your hands in the seat." Again she obeyed quietly, but now there was a serenity in her eyes that made me satisfied to see. "Why am I doing this, Tuesday?"

She practically sighed the answer in the way a submissive would push her boundaries and then be reassured when they were, in fact, sturdy. "Because I didn't follow your safety rules, master, when I trust you to keep me safe."

My God, it was like a transformation before I even did it. Her entire stature was relaxed and waiting and pure happiness seemed part of her even though she had to know my punishments would be rough when everything about me was rough. "Count," I commanded. "I want it nice and polite, little slave."

She counted obediently and I gave her a nice, strict belting followed by time in the chastity belt with nothing in the anal toy attachment. I left that open instead so I could fuck her there while she suffered, and then left her in chastity while tying her down to a chair for dinner, feeding her to make her hotter.

After all that, even though it was punishment and because we both needed it, I took the belt off and fucked her pussy until she came. Three times.

That event turned out to be a stupid one, a freak bullshit incident, but the effects would reverberate in both of our lives. For instance, we didn't talk about the fact that she lived with me after that. She just did for both of our peace of mind. And the police did eventually get back in touch with us. The man had been caught and there was a story and that story did suggest that I had a slight influence on what had happened.