February Sucks - Matter of Fact

What if..? What if he were the one she came back to everyday? They were clearly compatible outside the bedroom and got along. Could he make it as a step dad? A dad?

It all came to a head during one of the playoffs. It all started off normally. When the anthem had started, some of his fellow teammates knelt in solidarity, as did the opposing team. Marc, for all the things people loved about him, he was also a proud patriot and he'd be damned if he stooped so low as to kneel for a cause like theirs over the anthem. There were cheers and boos all around and he kept a straight face through it all.

When the game had started, his A-game was nowhere to be found. Try as he might have, he couldn't get his head in the game. Such things ran in his mind and it affected his everyday life more and more. All culminating in effectively distracting the entire evening. His performance was lackluster, his form sloppy, and with thoughts of Linda on his mind, his vision all but useless beneath his helmet.

He had barely managed to get a hold of the ball, nearly fumbling it in the process. His head was low, disoriented, distracted. Then came the crashing force of 300 pounds of muscle and protective gear. That had only been the half of it as the fall to the ground sent shocks to the back of his head and knocked the air out of his lungs. His form having suffered from mental anguish now matched by a physical disorientation and pain.

All along his neck and spine, he was out for the rest of the game. Never in his life would he have ever been considered dead weight, much less by himself. But being hauled put in a stretcher in front of fans and cameras, certainly didn't help.

His doctor told him to take it easy, as the full-on collision from the other player had given him a concussion along with a very damaged neck. With limited motion and a one fucked up brain injury, his doctor, along with his coach, both came to the conclusion to sit the rest of the playoffs out.

Marc tried, truly tried to maintain his image of this suave and dominant alpha male specimen. But no one looked tough in a neckbrace. The looks he received were ones of pity and sympathy. Like he was some charity case.

His chances with women didn't diminish, but now they weren't out of awe and wanderlust. He could tell they did it because they felt sorry for him. His pride shaken, he at least tried to salvage what he could have in the bedroom, but it wouldn't have mattered if his neck killed him with every fucking minor motion.

The paparazzi wouldn't let up, much less show him any sympathy whenever he had to go out. His responses weren't any better. When being hopped up and loosened on all sorts of medications and heartbreak, filters of one's mind and brain were nonexistent in those circumstances.

Then he started trending on TikTok. At first, he wondered if it would be a silver lining. But when it turned out to have been an edit of his standing at the anthem followed by an immediate cut to his tackling, did he understand the reason why. Apparently, many thought it was instant karma. The fact that it had been a black player that had tackled him made it even worse for him.

This only further damaged the image of him and his team. Invitations became less and less common. Even as he was getting better physically, his PR team unanimously decided that the spotlight be shown to the rest of his teammates over him.

It was in these moments, when all he had to himself were his thoughts in his home. No one to go home to. His staff conveniently taking time off. He was lonely. What could he even do then? Money was thankfully not an issue. But what did it matter if he had no one to spend with. Is that what Linda could've been? Someone to be with in sickness and in health?

Not one to slouch, he set about looking for what he could do in the meantime. Promotions, charity, events, sponsors, hell even a spot on a talk show.

He told his manager to look for anything he could've done to take his mind off of this. One way or another, he was making a comeback.

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Jim and Linda couldn't believe their luck in their schedules. They managed to find time to go to the classes at Loose Ends. They wanted to learn more about rope play and maybe even positions that required some form or suspension.

They got a private session with Seymours paramour. Sarina. She was a lithe, caramel-complexion woman. In many ways, she was Seymour's parallel but also his opposite.

Her outfit was exactly what both Linda and Jim thought a Dominatrix' outfit should be. Her expression was friendly and welcoming. Inviting.

"So, beginners?" She asked. They gulped and nodded.

"Seymour told me you're here for rope lessons. But something about you two tells me you're also looking to explore some other things." Another nod.

"Well, we're exploring a bit more into what we could bring to the bedroom." Linda explained.

Truth be told, they no longer considered themselves vanilla. Albeit it was simply the two of them ranging from gentle and loving to rough and hard. Introducing the ropes was amazing, and they wanted to learn more. All this was explained to Sarina.

"Who takes the lead in the bedroom?"

"I do." Jim raised his hand a bit, causing both women to smile.

"Alright, tell me." Linda took the lead. Without getting into the details of that February's event, she told Sarina about her and Jim's bedroom exploits.

"We've gotten a lot more adventurous because I've felt guilty about something I did." She left it at that. "By all means, Jim was entitled to leave me because of it." Her hand gripped his. Sarina's look to him was somewhat suspicious. She then turned back to Linda.

"May I talk to you in private?" Sarina asked. Linda tilted her head and nodded. She turned to Jim and gestured for him to step outside.

"Is he forcing you to do any of this?" She asked seriously. She was a strong advocate for sorority in cases where gendered violence was afoot. A part of her job, specifically about masochism and sadism, was that it was all consensual. It was a sad truth that many people tried to use their violent sexual natures on unsuspecting partners under the guise of it being 'bdsm'. This she tried her best to not allow. And if there was blood in the water, she'd do her best to save a victim of such violence.

"Oh goodness no!" Linda was quick to dash such suspicions. "We both wanted to do this. Together." She did some reflecting on that statement. "Me more than him." She twiddled her thumbs as her hands clasped together. "He's the perfect gentleman. I was a fool for what I did. And I want to find a way to make it up to him." She admitted.

Sarina took a deep breath to take in what she had just heard. Part of her job, that was not in the description, was that as a dominatrix, she was also an impromptu sex therapist. She eased people into a comfortable position to try something more adventurous. Though a lot of what she taught was not inherently sexual, the sexual component itself was a very big part of it. People came to her and Seymour more times for it than not. So she would be very privy to a lot of the intimacy of singles and couples. She taught and assisted.

Linda was an interesting client/woman. From the way she speaks about the event, she must have done something so unfathomably terrible. Yet, before her, stood that same woman who spoke with such passion and adoration over Jim. It was sincere. Call it a woman's intuition, but Linda seemed to truly want to right all the wrongs she's done. Eagerly and expertly. She figured what she could to help them out.

"So you're looking to make some sort of amends by giving yourself to him." She crossed her arms. Not in a disapproving way, but an examining one. Linda nodded. Sarina figured that there was something that they could try. "I think I got something that might interest you both, but specifically for you too." She said, before she went ahead to take out one of the pieces of equipment to the center of the room.

Jim had been called into the room. Stepping back in he saw something he wasn't expecting to see. But very glad to have done so. Linda was leaning against a cross of St. Andrew. She had lowered her pants under her ass cheeks, and they were presented outwards in preparation for what Sarina was about to instruct.

"Impact play is something that people have high misconceptions about." She began, as she raised a long and large flogger. "They imagine it has everything to do with pain, sadism, and masochism. In fact, they can also be about the sensation and ongoing build up." She said, holding the flogger out for Jim. He approached her and took the whipping apparatus in his hand. "Go on, give her a nice swipe. Usually you have the shoulders and ass that you can bring them down on. But it seems she's decided for you."

At that, Linda looked back at him and gave a little jiggle at him. Jim gripped the handle hard and threw a small hit across her bottom. Linda suddenly arched her back, gasping. Funnily though, she didn't flinch. In fact, she had pressed out further towards him.

"Come on, she's begging for it." Sarina urged Jim further. "What are you going to do?"

Jim steadied his hand and flicked his wrist, masterfully bringing it down on her right cheek. Hi then rotated in an upper flick to bring up from below onto her left one. Both times Linda gripped the corners of the X-Frame as Jim started to make creative combinations on her bottom. As if the flogger was his brush and her bottom was his canvas, making a beautiful rosey shade.

Linda was sweating against the cross, her eyes had closed as she focused on the strikes. Through the darkness, they were her focus and hope. She sweated bullets, gasping at the impressions being left on her body.

"That's enough, I've got to wipe that down for the next appointment." Teased Sarina. Both of them snapped out of it and turned to her. Jim had been holding his breath through his focus, exhaling and swallowing air. Linda raised her fabric back onto her waist, controlling her breathing and fixing her hair. "So, what did we think?"

"We'll take it." Jim said, before noticing something on the shelf. More decoration than anything, but a product nevertheless. "And one of these." He said as he pointed at it. Sarina and Linda smiled. Linda's eyes gasped suddenly.

"You sure?" She had to ask to make sure. Linda nodded eagerly. "I'll ring you guys up. Oh, that;s on the house" She smiled.

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Dave's life had gone completely to shit. His and Dee's relationship had been on the rocks, but her bid on Marc LaValliere had been the final nail in the coffin of their marriage. Dee got to fuck the same motherfucker that took Linda with him and worse, his wife paid to do it.

The level of humiliation was downright devious. When she came back the Monday after their yelling match could be heard all up and down their neighborhood, for Dee's safety, Dave was led out of his own home that day. Thankfully he did not spend the night in jail, just some shitty motel.

But the following day, he went with a scorched earth policy to get back at Dee. He came for his home, all their finances, everything.

After the initial shock, she retaliated with her own demands in the divorce and dragged and dragged. By the time the divorce lawyers cleaned house, both reverted back to a high school graduate's financial situation.

Both in their own shitty apartments and dingy little cars. Still employed but since they both had made about the same, alimony was non-existent. Not that they didn't go after each other in that regard either. Both were just miserable. In order to pick up his own slack, he even had to get a second job as a bouncer/security.

Dee had at least managed to reconnect with Linda. Dave had no one to turn to. His hate and rage grew like a cancer, and his bitterness showed in his face. His co-workers would distance themselves from him. Whatever energy he radiated, no one wanted to be a part of it.

He even came across Jim one day coming out of the gym just as he had exited the bar. Upon recognizing one another, Dave thought he'd rekindle a friendship, and only when he started spouting about all his hate, did he notice Jim looking at him with pity. What the hell? He figured that if anyone understood his plight it would be him. Jim tried to conversate, but ultimately wished him well.

Whatever, fuck that cuck. He's not a real fucking man like me. One and done. Drop that bitch. It worked wonders for him. He was free to enjoy himself without being next to a colossal bitch everyday.

The dating scene didn't fare any better as he always managed to make it about his divorce or his shitty life. The man had simply become unapproachable. And he just couldn't understand why.

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Jim and Linda found the time to have lunch together every other workday. Both happy in one another's company. Having discovered new fantasies together had become a real treat. It served to bring them closer and closer. Today, they'd been to their old home and preparing something that they would finish later when their family was together.

Jim however, was feeling a bit uneasy about something. Having come across Dave and the state he'd been in, it made him think about how different his life would have gone if he'd followed through with the burn the bitch mentality. He turned to Linda and thought how lucky they'd been. They'd made it out better than most couples, through miracles, hard work, convenient timing, and the right circumstances, they managed to make it work.

He was not going to put that in jeopardy, and so he knew they had to keep at it. They'd talk. He'd talk with her and vice versa. Seeing Dave like that, it stuck with him because it was as if he was catching a glimpse at an alternate reality where he could have ended like that. It made him think critically about their relationship. He'd reached for her hand, catching her beautiful smile and eyes. He smiled softly in turn.

It seemed that whatever he wanted, Linda simply blindly followed and accepted it. When it came to asking her about something, she gave her honest opinion on the matter, but when it was something he mentioned on doing, it gnawed at the back of his mind that perhaps he should hear some form of retaliation. If he wanted to watch something, she'd say yes without protest. Even if it wasn't something she enjoyed, and he knew this.

Linda just couldn't bring herself to say no to him. Not even in the bedroom, simply everyday occurrences. Sure she still asked him things but hardly pressed him on things she wanted to do instead going with what he wanted. She was pleasing him. Was it out of guilt? Perhaps. It mostly, however, was her wanting him and only him. She was afraid that she could potentially back him into another corner like before. She promised she would never do that to him. She would commit to him entirely and blindly.

"Linda?" She loved the way he said her name.

"Yes, Dear Jim?"

"Everything ok?"

"Of course, why wouldn't it be?" She asked.

"Well, I just." How could he word this? "I'm a little concerned about how you're doing. I love that we're back together. But." He sighed. "Are you doing everything just to please me?"

"Yes, because you deserve it and more." She was honest. "Is something wrong?" She asked.

"Not really. It's just...you never say no." It was hard to explain, he thought. "Don't get me wrong. Everything we do is great. It's just, I can't help but feel that you're doing it to just keep things always perfect. Does that make sense?" He gauged her. She took a moment to process what he was saying. She kinda understood.

"I see where you're coming from." She sighed. "It's...I just don't want to upset you. I'm watching everything I'm doing for you. Because I'm afraid that if I don't, I'll end up hurting you again."

"Sounds like you're walking on eggshells."

"I know. But what else could I do?"

"Trust me. Trust yourself." He offered her his best smile. "I feel like you wouldn't stop me from doing something stupid if it meant keeping me." He said in a teasing tone, but it was out there. She giggled.

"Well I won't let you do anything like that." She beamed at him in return.

"You better." He kissed her forehead, making her heart flutter.

She was glad they could communicate like this. It set her fears at ease. She heard what he wanted. It wasn't that he was expecting a fight with her, but she couldn't be this sex slave. As they were, they were on his page. Not the same one. Realistically, fights should be healthy, if he were to do something she didn't like and simply kowtowed to him, then that wasn't a healthy relationship. She would give this a lot of thought. But she heard him. And would do her best for him.That is, also for herself.

She suddenly caught a bit of an idea.

"You know, we still have some time. I was hoping we could try something before heading back to work." She suggested. Looking away playfully.

"Is that so?" She nodded.

"I've been doing yoga. You can bend me like a pretzel." She spoke softly. He smirked.

"Funny you should say that, I've gotten a little into carpentry, and installed some reinforced posts on the bed." He gestured to the bedroom. "Specifically to put your flexibility to the test."

"Well then, why don't we get started." She said as he picked her up like he did on their wedding day. "Yahtzee!"

In no time flat, Jim wiped the sweat off of his forehead as he admired his hand work. Before him, he'd managed to have Linda in a position she'd been in before, but never in such a state. Her ankles and wrists were tied down, but being pulled in opposite directions.

Laying on her back, her ankles were pulled up towards the head of the bed, while her wrists were pulled towards the new posts at the foot of the bed. All whilst being wrapped up in a very tight-fitting pentagram harness.

Linda was looking up at the ceiling, trying her best to locate Jim, who had merely moments ago been doing the most wonderful things with rope to her. Now, he was just out of sight, who knew what dastardly delicious things he had in mind for her. She shimmied about in place, letting the tight ropes bite into her. He'd done a terrific job on the harness, especially as they squeezed her tits.

"You know, it was awfully kind of them to give this to us free of charge." He suddenly appeared on the left side of the bed, holding a platinum colored butt-plug with a ruby red crystal outlined in gold. Sparkly and shiny. She nodded to him cutely. "Glad we can finally put it to good use." He teased her.

"Let me get it nice and ready for you, dear." She stuck her tongue out in a very provocative manner.

"Dirty girl." He said as he placed it in her mouth. Making the most obscene things with her lips and tongue to get it nice and lubricated. "That's good enough." He pulled it out of her with a nice pop away from her lips. She giggled.

"Oh~!" She moaned as he'd inserted it in her. If he hadn't looked, he would have missed how she quivered from the act alone. "Come here, Jim...Don't keep me waiting..." She begged, biting her lip. She looked desperate and needy.

"Oh, you can do better than that." He teased as he ran his hand along her asscheeks. Giving them a nice smack, earning a moan and eek from her. This was absolutely heaven for her.

"Please...I want you so bad." She said through shaky breaths. "I need this." He struck her bottom once more. Leaving a noticeable print in his image behind. "Ah!" She gasped.

"Beg." He said with his chest. He took their flogger and repeatedly swiped at her ass. Up and down in multiple motions.

"Please! I need to be punished, Jim!" She nearly screamed. "Punish me like I deserved to be." She had reached that euphoric state. One where all her love, guilt, and devotion for him mixed together to create the perfect aphrodisiac. She'd found her sub-space. It was practically a religious experience.