Sliding Doors

My life is different since I met June. Even when I had a girlfriend, I never had one that was anything like June.

Over the last few weeks, we've settled into something of a routine. I go around to her place, any time of the day or night, drag her out of bed from next to Zoe if I have to, then she does whatever I want.

June's started pulling out some of the toys she has. After the mess we made with the nipple clamps, I've started to guide her choices, toward the less dangerous.

I thought Zoe would get upset about me hurting and using her mum but she doesn't. Their place is so tiny, Zoe must be able to hear what's going on in the next room.

I still live at my place, and Zoe and June live at theirs. Zoe still spends a couple of nights a week at Barbie's.

I've started to mention "my girlfriend" to my workmates and the guys in my online gaming clans, and June and I talk about "us". We're a thing, it's exciting. We're not a normal thing, but a thing, at least. We haven't been "on a date", like going out to dinner or a cinema, but that's OK for us.

This week, I've decided that it's Blowjob Week. Each day, I drop by during my lunch break at work (a daylight shift, which always improves my mood). June's loving it - getting more and more excited each day.

<hr>

Coming into day 7 of Blowjob Week, June's great dick sucking has been getting more enthusiastic every day. I wonder where she can go from yesterday's frantic efforts.

I let myself into the flat and find Zoe cooking, wearing her running kit. I wonder if she's come from a run or about to go on one.

"Thank God you're here. Mum's been climbing the walls! Are you staying for lunch?"

"That smells great, I'd love to. Thanks"

I notice that June's not in the main room and head straight into the bedroom, where June's naked, pacing back and forward, like a caged animal. "What time is it? You're late. I've been waiting hours for you to get here. Quick, drop your pants!"

I feel like I've been waiting hours to get here too, and her eagerness is a turn-on. I follow my instructions.

June sets on me where I'm standing like a fat kid on a cupcake; the first thing my dick touches is her throat. She's possessed, her hands grasping at my balls, her mouth, tongue, and throat urgently trying to make me cum. I don't even try to fight it and just let my orgasm wash over me...

"WHAT THE FUCK, MIKE!?!" screams June, burning with rage, oblivious as another rope of jizz lands on her cheek.

"I JUST WANTED TO SUCK SOME COCK, ASSHOLE!!!"

Shooting pain runs through me. I can feel a vice-like grip on my balls.

"YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT!!! WHEN DID I TELL YOU IT WAS OK TO CUM?!?"

She's moving, fast.

<hr>

I can taste blood.

My eyesight's not right, and the ringing in my head is deafening...

The lights hurt to look at; my whole head hurts.

There's shouting. I lift my head to see where it's coming from.

"I CAN'T HOLD HER, MIKE! RUN, NOW!!!" screams Zoe. Zoe's desperately clinging on to June's arms, trying to keep her weight over June's thrashing body.

"GET OFF ME YOU BITCH!!!"

I roll onto my side, and stand in a hurry, crashing off both sides of the doorway from the bedroom. I can hardly stay on my feet. I stagger towards the front door, trying to pull up my pants as I go. I collapse onto the table, use the support to pull up my pants, and try again for the front door.

"GET OUT OF HERE, MIKE!!!" Zoe screams, followed by a loud crash.

I fix my eyes on the front door handle and grab at it, clinging for support. I wrench it open and half fall through the door, slamming it closed behind me. Another loud crash comes from inside the flat. Leaning and sliding on the wall, I run towards the lift as I hear June's door swing open behind me. There's a primal scream from behind me, but no words. I keep leaning and sliding as fast as I can drag my feet along after me. June's screaming fills the corridor but it's not getting closer.

I can hear some words from Zoe between June's screams. I look back down the corridor and see June, naked, lost in rage, standing in her doorway. Every muscle in her body stands out, all at war with each other, tears running in streams down her face - her face twisted into anger and frustration. June screams over and over, trembling. She is a nightmare made real. I've no idea what's keeping her from crossing the threshold but I think it's saved me from a much worse beating, at least.

Eventually, the lift arrives and I stumble into it, mashing the button to close the door. As the doors close and the lift starts moving, I catch my reflection in the mirrored door, as June's screaming subsides above me.

A large red welt is growing on my left temple and a smaller one is on the right side of my mouth. My bottom lip is swollen. I feel nauseous. I might vomit...

As I stumble out of the lift, I can faintly hear June's screaming, 4 floors up. I fall into a cab to home and send a text to work:

"I'm not coming back today. I've had a fall"

"You'll need a letter from a doctor or we'll call it an unapproved holiday"

"When you see my face, you won't call it a holiday"

<hr>

The next morning I wake up, late. Last night's migraine has subsided to dull, throbbing pain.

I check my phone. There are 12 missed calls and 37 messages, from June. There's a missed call from Zoe, and a message. I start with Zoe's message:

"Mum's very sorry about yesterday. Could you give me a call when you're up to it?"

I flick through the messages from June:

"I'm sorry Mike :`-("

"I hope you're OK, I never wanted to hurt you"

"I'm so sorry!"

"Please let me make it up to you."

"Please don't leave me."

... and it continues, for another 32 messages. I make a coffee and try listening to my voice messages. The first 3 are just June blubbering and crying, with some begging for me not to leave her. There's one from Zoe, which is the same as what she wrote, but the tone is more concerned. There's another one from June - more begging, less crying, this time. One from work, vaguely threatening unless someone else is prepared to say I'm hurt.

I munch a few painkillers for my headache and make another coffee. The best thing I can do now is to go back to bed. Despite my coffees, I have no trouble resting. By the time I wake again, it's nearly midday on Saturday. At least I'm not rostered on today.

There are a few more text messages from June on my phone and another missed call. I decide to call Zoe. I don't think I'm ready to talk to June.

"Hi, Mike. How are you?"

"I'll live. I guess, June hit me? I just remember her freaking out and then I woke up on the floor..."

"Yeah, Mum hits hard. She's knocked out harder men than you."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?"

"Maybe? Mum's spent most of her life around professional thugs and killers. Getting knocked out by Mum puts you in esteemed company", Zoe tries. She's trying but there's not much to work with.

I'm caught. I want to love these two. June and Zoe are great people; they're more than I deserve in my life.

"Zoe, I'm scared. She knocked me out cold. The only reason I got out is that you slowed her down. She would have kept bashing me, she might have killed me, Zoe."

"I tried to warn you about Mum but it is what it is. Mum's a mess. Even if you don't want to see her again, please talk to her. She's settled down. Mum won't hurt you, again."

"You're sure? I want to see June but she really hurt me. She was out of control."

"I'm sure, Mike. Please... Talk to Mum. Whatever you do, please talk to Mum... Mum's in pieces..." Zoe pleads, her voice trembling.

"OK. I'll come over. I'll be there in about half an hour. I'm not promising anything."

"Thanks, Mike. It means a lot to me."

Half an hour later, I'm at June's door; I can hear her sobbing inside, as I knock on the door.

The sobbing stops abruptly, and Zoe opens the door.

June's curled up on the couch in her pajamas, like when I first met her but her face is puffy and red, still wiping away tears. She looks confused, scared, and fragile - it's strange to think of her like that. Zoe invites me in and offers me a chair. June watches me intently but seems too scared to say or do anything. I'm not sure what to do either - I just sit down on one of the murderous chairs. I don't know where to look.

Zoe takes the lead, "Mum? Isn't there something you need to say?"

"I'm sorry Mike... You didn't deserve any of what happened yesterday. I lost control and you got hurt and I embarrassed myself. It wasn't right. I'll do anything to make it up to you." June says to me, somewhat mechanically. Her eyes are pleading with me, her body still curled up in the corner.

I don't know what's going on. "Are you OK, June?" I ask.

June bursts into tears again, "Noooooo!" and buries her face in her hands.

I move over to sit on the couch and wrap my arms around her before I know what I'm doing. June leans into my chest and sobs quietly in my arms. We stay like that for a while. Zoe just leans on the table and waits.

I can't see how I ended up here. The last time I was in this apartment, I landed on the ground next to where I'm sitting. Now I'm worried whether June will be OK. I see how her last boyfriend ended up such a mess. Normally, June's a dream to be around but when she snaps... I've never seen anything like it.

I can feel June's tears have soaked through my t-shirt. She's slowing down, a little. In the spaces that have opened between her sobs, she mumbles "I'm sorry" again, and again... I wasn't as distraught when my parents died.

Slowly, June's sobbing gives way to just saying "I'm sorry", every so often.

Eventually, June sits up, sighs very deeply, blows her nose, and dries her tears. She looks more like herself, at last.

I swap a glance with Zoe, who's been waiting quietly, watching intently - her face reads as concerned but relaxed. I relax a bit.

June kneels in front of me - not so different from where she was before she knocked me out, yesterday.

June puts her hands on her knees, looks at a spot in front of my feet, and begs.

"I need you in my life, Mike. I'll do anything for you to forgive me. I'll accept any punishment you want. You can keep me as your slave if you want."

That last bit got my attention. I glance at Zoe; she's not relaxed now.

June waits, kneeling at my feet. I've never had anyone offer themselves as a slave. I haven't heard of anyone offering themselves as a slave.

Zoe's on her feet "Uh, Mike... Mum didn't mean that. Mum, maybe you want to think how that would work for a minute?"

"Mike, you can have anything you want, anything I can give you," June says quietly. She doesn't look away from the floor. I'm sure she's not talking about the TV.

Zoe relaxes a fraction, "OK... Mike, Mum wants to make amends. Do you think there's any way you can see a future for you two?"

I consider my life the week before I met Zoe and June... It was boring. I was not happy but no one punched me.

"How do I make sure June doesn't punch me again?"

"You could keep me tied up..." June says. Zoe jumps in again,

"There's probably a better way... Mike, did you do all the things you were supposed to? You remember, three things you had to do?"

"Uh... I guess... Sure."

"So, all three of sex, violence, and exploitation?"

"Well, there wasn't much violence in Blowjob Week. Pretty sure I nailed sex and exploitation. June was loving it without violence."

"Mum?"

"Every time I see anyone, my first thought is to wait for them to hurt me, then I want to hurt them. It's the same for humiliation and fucking. That's my normal. When Mike didn't hurt me, I tried to focus on what he wanted. He just wanted blowjobs all week. I felt like I had bugs crawling all over me, or something - I itched all over... I couldn't think straight. I've barely slept. I tried exercising. I hurt myself... Nothing worked. I thought that if I focussed on giving Mike what he wanted, I'd get through it... When I couldn't focus on him fucking my face, I flipped into hurting him, I couldn't stop myself... I'm sorry."

Zoe continues, "Mum, could you just tell Mike before this happens, again?" June stays staring at the floor.

"I think so" June offers, meekly. She doesn't sound convinced.

Zoe catches my eye; she's not convinced either. Zoe looks to the ceiling, says something under her breath, then tries me. "Mike, do you think you could remember to spank Mum once a week?"

"I guess. Is that what you want, June?"

"Yes." June looks up at me, finally. She's smiling. She looks more like my girlfriend, again. "Mike, you can hurt me now, if you want". June bites her lip and looks to the bedroom door next to me.

Zoe cuts in, again "Stay where you are!" June and I both freeze. June and I share a look - we're both confused. We turn to Zoe to figure out what's going on.

"I let you guys try to figure this out, and you screwed it up" Zoe announces.

"You don't get to hide in the bedroom. No more hiding behind closed doors; I don't trust you two. I get to walk in on you fucking, you don't get to go somewhere else to hide from me. Just accept I'm going to be watching you."

I look back to June, she either didn't hear or didn't care what Zoe said. I'm not sure what to do with this. June looks up at me with her familiar, welcoming, smile. "What can I do for you? What do you want to do to me?" I discover I don't care about Zoe watching if I get June back.

Zoe settles back on the table again, her piece said, watching like a hawk.

"You want me to hurt you?"

"YES! If you want... You could fuck me too!" June's eyes are wide, a huge smile on her face, staring into me.

There's my girlfriend. June's full of enthusiasm. I'm always caught out by how much she wants to offer her body for my amusement.

"Do you want the cane?" I ask June.

"Can I get it?"

"OK."

June runs off, rummaging through the wardrobe. I look at Zoe, she's impassive, waiting for me to hurt her mother. June runs back with the cane - it might be an antique from a fancy boarding school - hands it to me, and shoos Zoe away from the table. June sits on the edge, swinging her legs. I flex the cane and feel it thin, stiff, hard; curved like a short, skinny walking stick. I give it a few swishes through the air.

"How do you want me? Do you want to beat my tits?" She drops to her knees and locks her fingers behind her head. June arches her back until her hands and head rest on the table. Her breasts stand clear of her chest, skin tight over her taut muscles and ribs, her flimsy tank top riding up to show her flat, toned belly. The way she's stretched out, it's hard to imagine I could hit her, without hitting her breasts. June closes her eyes and waits for me to hurt her. Her pajamas don't suggest they'll offer much protection.

I realize, there's only one way I'm going to go in this situation. Zoe gets out of my way as I walk up to June's side. I bring down the cane on June's breasts, hard.

June yelps, and starts crying. I don't know if I've done the right thing.

"Thank you, Mike," June manages, at last. "Whenever you're ready, I am."

Zoe keeps out of the way and watches from a relatively discrete distance, in the tiny flat. I whip June all over with the cane; she cries out a few times, sometimes rolls on the floor, but pulls herself together and then invites another stroke. Once June's caned all over, her pajamas ruined, we fuck on the bed. June rides my cock while I lie back and trace the spider's web of welts I've marked her body with. June's cheerful, almost ecstatic. A good Saturday afternoon, after all.

Once June and I have finished fucking, I'm a big spoon to June. I realize that Zoe's settled down to study at the table, facing the bedroom door.

I call out from the bedroom "Enjoy the show, Zoe?"

"Yeah. You've got a great future in porn" Zoe calls back, sarcastically, without looking up.

I run my hands over June's body, feeling the long welts left by the cane. She responds to my touch, snuggling closer to me, and pressing her ass against my cock. "Thank you for everything, Mike. Thank you for listening to me, thank you for caning me, thank you for fucking me... I don't know what I'd do without you."

"What did you do without me, before we met?

"Nothing. I may as well have been a nun. It was horrible."

"Why not stay like that? No one was getting hurt."

"No one, except for me. I love having a cock to please. It's been the only constant in my life. That was one of the problems with my ex-girlfriend, not enough dick."

"You had a girlfriend?"

"Yeah, for about a year, when I was in a mafia whorehouse. She was one of the girls from the orphanage, we have a lot of history. Kelly's like an aunty to Zoe. The slaver picked her up and then me, we got sold on in a package deal... She got free with Zoe and I then we went our separate ways."

I've never heard June talk about when she was a slave. It's strange to hear, she talks about it like most people mention what town they grew up in as if everyone's been a slave for a while.

"If you were so close, why split up?"

"It wasn't safe to stay together. Kelly and I were a regular double-act in the whorehouse, and since our owner put massive fake boobs on her, she stands out. Zoe and I are pretty distinctive, too. The three of us together was too much. Kelly and I can't get a regular job, so that left us going back to being whores, again. It's risky enough to be a whore but we're wanted by some very dangerous people. Some of them still think of Kelly and I as their property, they could easily kidnap us, again. If they kidnap me again, they might even take Zoe, too. That's why I stay locked up in this shitty flat." June trembles and pulls me around her a bit tighter.

"Mike, I was serious, earlier. You can keep me as a slave, if you want."

"I don't even know what that means, June. Why was Zoe so worried?"

"Slavery revolves around violence and hate - at least the version I was trained for. Slaves are hated by their owners and themselves. Slaves expect owners to use violence to keep them. I guess Zoe doesn't think you're going to play your part."

"My part?"

"It's sort of like owning a car. Cars need regular servicing to keep them running well. Slaves need to be regularly hurt and humiliated to keep them acting like good slaves."

"What's a bad slave like?"

"Traditionally? Bad slaves form mobs and murder their owners. Surviving owners tend to raise an army and torture the slave mob, to death."

"OK, that's pretty bad. Let's not do that."

June giggles, guides my hand to one of her bruised breasts, and squeezes hard. She winces as she squeezes.

"I want to serve you, Mike, I want you to exploit me, and not just sexually. How about I try being your slave for a day? It takes longer than that for slaves to go bad."

"I still don't understand what you're offering, June"

June thinks for a moment. "A slave is a blank canvas; offering potential. The owner's whims become the slave's world. Slaves occasionally add something to the canvas then they're tortured to remind them and any other slaves, that the canvas is not theirs to decorate. It's a process. I'll give you a blank canvas, for a day."

I've become used to June talking about being hurt but "torture" has a bunch of meanings I don't like much. The way she says it, it sounds like someone else was tortured, but obviously, it wasn't. June needs me to hurt her, she wants it - it's mostly about June. What happened to her as a slave was about the owner, June was just one of their things. Now, she's suggesting... I take a loan of her, like a library book?

"Is that why 'we' work, for you? You're not my slave, even if I use you and hurt you?"

"I think so. You hurt me, you use me to satisfy your sexual urges how and when you want, which is great. You also talk to me like a person, I trust you'll take care of me, too. You're very special to me, Mike."