Death of a Master Ch. 05

"Thank you, Mrs. Spears. That's all of our questions. Do you have any questions for us?"

"Yes, if I may. Why did Mr. Freshin not perform the interview?"

"He was unexpectedly away from the office. Actually, I have a question of my own. Why did you make it clear that you wouldn't accept being interviewed by Miss Carstares? You don't strike me, now, as someone who has small opinions of secretaries."

"Oh, God no. I expect I'll be working closely with Miss Carstares if I'm hired. But, in my experience, when a company relegates your job interview to a secretary, they've already decided to not hire you. My time is valuable, and subjecting myself to an interview, along with the time needed to travel there and back, all for something that won't happen, is a waste."

"Thank you. We'll let you know of our decision in the next few days."

"Thank you, Ms. Burbon," the Domme responded as she stood and shook Valerie's hand.

After she had left, Valerie turned towards Mary. "What do you think? You were with Calvin during the other interviews."

"Honestly, Ms. Burbon, Calvin had already rejected the other applicants. If Mrs. Spears failed the interview, he was ready to trash an advice column until we found someone suitable. Mrs. Spears sounds like an excellent candidate. She understands pony girls and boys well and is passionate about the lifestyle. If her examples from the online forum, webzine I believe she called it, look good, and those creative differences aren't something to worry about, I think Mr. Freshin will hire her."

"Good, I'll leave it in your capable hands. Thanks, Mary."

"My pleasure, Ms. Burbon."

On her way back to her office, she stopped by the front desk. "Imogene, any word from Calvin?"

"No, Ms. Burbon," the receptionist replied, worry etched on her face. "I've tried his home every half hour; no answer. His cell doesn't even go to voicemail; I just get a message that the phone isn't in service. Something's wrong, ma'am."

"Call the emergency rooms; see if he's been admitted."

"I already have, ma'am. He hasn't been admitted as a patient to any of the local hospitals."

"Not, good," Val muttered under her breath. "Call emergency services; see if his car has been in an accident. I think his plate will be on the parking list."

"Right away, ma'am."

Valerie waited, a knot forming in her gut, while the receptionist called the non-emergency line for the city's emergency services. The dread she was beginning to feel deepened as she heard the direction of the conversation and the tearing that was staring in Imogene's eyes. The young woman put the phone down and removed her earpiece, shock evident on her face.

"Ma'am, there's been…" She stopped, unable to continue as her grief stole over her with the force of a hurricane.

"Something's happened to him, hasn't it?" Val asked, her hand reaching to offer the comfort she didn't feel.

Imogene nodded. "Accident…Body…Identify," was all she could get out.

"I'll take care of it. Is this the address?" Val asked, reaching for the note Imogene had taken during the call. The woman nodded as she sat, tears streaming down her face. Address in hand, Val returned to her office to collect her things.

"June, Calvin's been in an accident; a fatal one. Cancel all my appointments for the day. I need to go identify the body, to be sure. Call Mary and let her…no, better if you tell her in person; they're…they were close. Then let the higher ups know. Someone's going to have to cover things at Pony's Paddock." Already, Valerie's past was numbing her mind, causing her to forget about Susan. Likewise, her mind's attempt to protect her from remembering Mike's death focused her thinking so narrowly that she never thought of contacting Sally or Charles.

"Oh my God, Val," June gasped, forgetting her office decorum as the news hit her. "Are you going to be all right?"

"Probably not, but I'll make it through the day; at least until I can get home. I don't have a choice, really."

"I'll take care of things here, you do what you have to do," June reassured Valerie.

"Thanks, June. I don't know when I'll be back."

Purse, laptop and cell in hand, Valerie made her way to the parking lot and her car. She wouldn't remember driving to the hospital, nor walking the sterile corridors to the morgue. As she entered the morgue, it was years ago, in a different hospital and different morgue.

"Mrs. Burbon, I'm so sorry for having to put you through this. He doesn't look like the photo on his ID. Is this Mike?"

Valerie's, "Yes," was choked out with a sob as she broke down and wept over the dead body of her husband, Mike. His face had been cut in hundreds of places, though the glass shards that had been embedded in it were gone. His clothes were still wet from the melted snow. Her tears added to the dampness that soaked his body.

"Mrs. Burbon, please…Ms. Burbon, are you okay? Ms. Burbon?!"

Valerie snapped back to the present as her shoulder was shaken. She shook her head, desperate to get the painful past away from the present in her mind. "Yes, I'm fine; just a bad memory. Is this him?" she asked, looking with dread at the sheet covered body. Val shivered at the dark stain on the sheets, evidence of the mangled body beneath them.

"We think so, ma'am. His wallet was on the dash and destroyed in the fire, so we can't make an ID that way. His fingerprints aren't in the system, either."

"They wouldn't be. Calvin never had them taken. He went out of his way to avoid it." Her eyes kept flicking to and away from the body under the sheet. Her mind kept trying to impose her dead husband's face over the body on the gurney.

"This should just take a moment. He's pretty banged up, Ms. Burbon. Are you ready?"

Valerie closed her eyes, willing the body in front of her away. It didn't leave. She nodded her head and the doctor pulled the sheet back from the head. Lifeless eyes stared back at her from a mangled face, covered in cuts and blood. For a moment, it wasn't Calvin Freshin looking up at her. "Mike," she gasped, tears clouding her eyes, her hand coming to her mouth.

"Excuse me, Ms. Burbon? Did you say Mike?"

"I'm sorry, no, this is Calvin," she whispered, turning away.

"Thank you, Ms. Burbon. I know this has to have been hard on you and we appreciate your coming down. Do you know if he had any next of kin?"

"I…he has a brother in New York, but they haven't spoken in years. His sister is stationed with the army in Iraq. His father is dead, and I think his mother is in a home, suffering from late stage Alzheimer's. His sl…girlfriend lives with him."

"There's been no answer at his home."

"She sometimes doesn't answer the phone or door." Valerie's voice caught, as she realized that her own pain would be small compared to Susan's. She didn't relish being there when Susan learned the news, but knew she needed to be the one to let her know. "I'd appreciate it if I could be the one to tell her."

"That's fine. The only personal effects we recovered seem to be related to work. As one of his colleagues, I can give those to you. I'm afraid most didn't survive the accident intact," he relayed, pointing to the sack on a side counter.

"Can you tell me what happened?"

"As near as we can tell, a semi ran a red light at high speed and crushed his car. Death was instantaneous." The doctor, having learned from long experience, didn't bother adding, "He didn't suffer," as he knew that was rarely actually taken well by those who knew the victims. "The driver was also pronounced dead at the scene."

"Thank you. I'll need to get this back now. If anything comes up, contact our offices. This is my card."

"We will, Ms. Burbon. Thank you again, for coming down and identifying him."

Wordlessly, Valerie turned and took the few things that survived the crash well enough to be recognized with her as she left the hospital. Her chest tightened as she walked, sadness filling her like brackish water that poisons a well. At her car, her control slipped and tears flowed freely at the loss of a man who'd become a good friend in the years since her first bid on her at The Mephisto Club's slave auction. It took several minutes until she was able to see clearly enough to drive. Like the trip to the facility, Val remembered nothing of her return trip. She didn't notice the familiar car parked in the visitor's area.

Imogene was behind her counter, her face puffy and streaked with the tears she's shed once Valerie had left. The quiet of the offices seemed different as Valerie returned to her office; more oppressive than relaxing. June was out of her seat, taking the sack of things from Valerie before Val knew what was happening.

"Were you able to cancel everything?"

"Yes, Ms. Burbon. Everyone knows what happened. I'll have everything rescheduled by the end of the day. I'm just waiting on a couple of call backs."

"Thanks, June. I may take off early. I'm certainly not going to get anything accomplished today."

"I understand. I'll hold things down here. You go do what you need to do."

Valerie nodded and walked into her office, intending to pack up and leave. Instead, she looked up and saw Sally, waiting expectantly. Sally gave a rueful smile and held her arms out. As Val surged forward to the comfort only her slave, lover and life partner could offer her, June closed the door to the office Valerie's tears, which had been tightly controlled up to that point, let loose and the next several minutes were spent releasing the agony that had been balled up so far.

"He's dead, Sally. I can't believe he's dead. It was just last week…"

"I know, I know, Mistress," Sally whispered as her arms held Valerie while hands caressed her back, letting Valerie's soul know that she was loved and cared for in this bitter time.

"I…I kept seeing Mike, Sally. I had to identify Mike after the…"

"Shhh. It's all right. It's normal to flash back to those memories. We never really forget that sort of thing." Sally kissed Valerie's forehead and held her closer as more sobs escaped, the memories of that horrible accident, years ago, that took the life of the Iceman, Valerie's beloved husband. "Why? Why did it have to be another car crash," Sally thought to herself. It had taken Valerie months, after the couple had moved in together, to tell Sally the story of how Mike had died. That accident, having been caused by black ice, had devastated the woman Sally loved so much that Valerie had run away from attachment and closeness. Only the intensity of Valerie's early days in the lifestyle had broken through enough for Valerie to be able to fall in love with Sally.

Sally remembered the fear both had had that night they had said those fateful words.

*****

Val found her voice first. "Sally, there's something very important I need to tell you, and ask you."

"Yes, Valerie?" Sally encouraged, hope hiding below the surface.

"I…I…God, I was less frightened when I asked you to deny me orgasms for 45 minutes."

"Take your time. We have all night." Sally reassured her, though what the dominant submissive really wanted was to hear it, now. She knew only two things would turn a woman into just a mass of jelly, one very good, one very bad. Val needed time.

"Three weeks ago, I could never have imagined myself here, today, with you, desperately needing to say what I'm trying to say. I'm so scared, of myself, of your reaction, of what's happening right here and now. Sally, I love you so much and I want you in my life forever, as the most important person in my life." The words finally out, dread, hope, fear, love were all displayed on her face. She had never felt as vulnerable as she did now. It was one thing to put your body and trust in someone's hands, but Valerie had put her heart, all that she was, into Sally's hands and the woman across from her at the table had the ability to crush it or nurture it. Which would it be?

Sally looked down, then back up, tears leaking from her eyes. "Valerie, I've been scared as well. I was so frightened that you wouldn't say what you just did." As she understood the meaning of those words, Valerie's face showed the death of the fear and dread, like a dragon at the end of a lance. Sally paused, and then continued. "I love you with every fiber of my being. The thought of you no longer in my life is a crushing weight that you've lifted off of me, saving me."

*****

Since then, Sally had walked with Valerie through the horror of Harv and the shooting; the wondrousness of the handfasting. They'd survived Barry Gaskin and his prejudice, the stress of making a movie, the radical changes that resulted in Sally being Valerie's slave. Now, Sally knew, she'd have to walk this time of sadness and bitterness as well, as fate had taken from Valerie yet another friend in such a cruel way.

When Val had recovered again, she looked up, her tear stained face that of a woman on the edge of breaking down again, but desperate not to. "Susan. We need to tell Susan."

"Of course. Mistress, she'll be devastated. We should bring her home with us. She shouldn't be left alone right now."

Valerie nodded, her voice catching as she realize that her feelings of grief were soon to be dwarfed by the slave who loved Calvin more than life. She made to pull her keys out of her purse, when Sally's hand gently forced them back inside the faux leather clutch.

"No, Mistress. I'll drive. She'll need you to be with her, to give her the domination she'll need to pull through this."

"Sally, I can't be her Mistress. I'm not Calvin, I can't be as brutal as he was; as she needed him to be."

"You don't have to, Mistress. She knows what you can and can't do. But, she's going to need to not be left to make choices for herself right away. Yes, she may have to adapt to being a free woman again, but it would be best if it wasn't all at once."

"Okay…for now. We should get going, though. She didn't answer the phone when the authorities tried to call her. Calvin probably has her on restriction."

"Right. Let's go. You can take your car home tomorrow."

The drive to Calvin's house took over half an hour. The sadistic editor of Pony's Paddock took his privacy seriously and owned a home in the far more sedate, rural area outside of the city. His active interest in the county zoning laws kept the area from being developed and losing that openness that widely separated the residents from each other. The large house, secluded by lines of tall trees loomed before the couple as they navigated the driveway.

Valerie recovered the spare key from the obvious hiding place she'd always complained to Calvin about. The first placed a burglar would think to look in was a fake rock near the door. She unlocked the door and opened it, calling out as she did. "Susan! Are you here?" There was no response and Val looked back as Sally, worry showing on her face.

"Did he leave her in bondage?"

"Oh God, I didn't think of that. She wouldn't use the quick releases; she thinks of them as a sign of weakness and disobedience."

The two women rushed for the stairs, making for the familiar basement. There, they found Susan, hanging by her wrists with her feet barely touching the floor. The leather cuffs were stained with the sweat that covered the rest of her naked form. Her muscles visibly shook from the strain and a line of drool ran from the corner of her mouth. Valerie recognized the all too familiar look of a woman straining to not release her bladder or bowels.

There was only a second or two of hesitation before the lovers were rushing forward to release Susan from the stringent position she was in. Her legs tried to collapse, forcing Val and Sally to carry her to the nearby bathroom where Susan was able to release herself with a sigh of contentment.

"Master?" came the hesitant, uncertain query.

"No," Val answered, stifling a sob. "He's not here, Susan. Shhh," she added when Susan seemed ready to ask another question.

Submissively, Susan remained quiet, trusting the woman she'd known as Mistress for over two years. She finished her ablutions while Valerie removed the blindfold and cuffs. She couldn't help but notice Valerie's face, still streaked with dried tears, and a wave of fear rocked her heart. When she'd finished, she stood on shaky legs and pleaded, "Please, Mistress, tell me."

There…" Valerie choked, then continued, her heart wrenching for what she must say, "There was an accident. He died, Susan. I'm so sorry, your Master is dead."

"No," the slave whispered, "he can't be. He was going to play with me tonight. He was looking forward to it…we were looking forward to it." The words came out in a rush, as if being spoken fast enough would deny the horrible truth of his death. More words followed; unintelligible in the haste Susan gave them. As they poured out from her grief wracked face, Susan slowly sank to her knees, unable to stand on legs that had turned to jelly.

Valerie followed her down, mouthing, "bag," to Sally. Sally nodded and went back upstairs to pack Susan some clothes. When she returned, Susan was being held tightly in Valerie's arms, sobbing with deep, agonizing cries as she gave voice to a pain far greater than any ever inflicted on her by crop, lash or cane. A hole had been ripped out of Susan's heart, and only someone who had suffered the same, seemingly mortal, wound could understand what was going on in the mind of the grief stricken woman.

Valerie knew, from talking to both Susan and Calvin over the years, that their relationship, which had started as a simple satisfying of their personal, kinky, desires, had blossomed into far more; a love had grown between the two, one as deep as the one Valerie and Sally shared, and a deep as the one Valerie had shared with Mike. Without the support of Francine, Valerie's best friend at the time, Val would never have survived those dark months immediately following Mike's death. Susan would need the same kind of support, as well as something to continue to meet her submissive (or slavish) needs.

"Slave," Valerie said, choking back her own grief. Susan looked up in response to the command in her voice. "I'm taking you home with me tonight. Is there anything you need from here other than clothes?"

"No, Mistress," Susan responded, her mind on autopilot, while her body continued to shed tears.

"Good. I want you to go upstairs and put some clothes on, something appropriate for a vanilla setting. Sally is packing a bag for you, make sure she doesn't miss anything you think you might need."

"Yes, Mistress."

Drying her tears, Susan rose and went to follow Val's directions, seemingly comforted by having something to do. "I don't know if I can do this," Val whispered once Susan was out of sight. She fumbled for her phone, dialing the number she knew by heart. "Master," she cried as Charles answered.

"Valerie, what's wrong," came the worried reply. Charles Vanquil could hear the stress in Valerie's voice.

"It's Calvin, Master. He died this morning in an accident."

"Oh my God! That's horrible, Valerie. Are you all right? Is there anything you need from me?"

"No, it hurts, Master. It's too close to how Mike died. I don't know what I need, Master. Susan's devastated. Sally and I are taking her home with us tonight."

"That's good of you, but I'm worried about you. Are you up to having her under you right now?"

"I don't know," Val whispered, worry tingeing her voice. "When Mike died, Francine stayed with me almost 24/7. Without her there, I might have spiraled into an endless depression. I wasn't a slave who also found herself unowned. I don't know if I have what it takes to help her stay in one piece through both losses."