tagBDSMTo Heal

To Heal


Author's note: I don't know if this counts as romance. I didn't know where else to put it. So, here goes.


"That will be all, Ms. Catherine. You can join us tomorrow," my new boss says.

I thank him and exit the room. As I walk through the busy streets, I smile inwardly at the prospect of a new job. New beginnings, new roads and hopefully some normalcy. Once in my home, I pour some wine and relax on the couch. For all the horrors of the past year or so, my life seems to be taking a turn. A good one.

The next day I enter into what is my new workplace. I am one of four employees of the law firm. The dull beige of the office welcomes me.

"You Catherine?" a short lady asks, startling me.

"Yeah, hi," I say, my eyes a little wide. She's older than me, 40 probably. Her smile gentle, her demeanor welcoming.

"Welcome to the hellhole. I'm Martha. The corner desk is yours," she points towards one end. It's barely a few feet away.

"That's Michael and that's Edward," she says as they walk up to me.

"Hiya, welcome to the hellhole where God does not even bother to look," Michael says with a grin. He's older than Martha. Wrinkles on his face, a nice smile, I like him instantly and wonder what's with everyone calling the office hellhole. As he leaves Edward extends his hand.

"Hello, nice to meet you," he says.

"Hi," I say giving him a handshake. It's been some time since I've noticed men and Edward gives me chills, the good ones. His hands are electric. The handshake bolts through me. More importantly they're sending signals, down there. I try to banish these thoughts; not for me. Not now.

I walk to my desk and settle down. There's a file named 'job description'. I go through it, trying to come to grips with my new job. The file has a list of all the clients I'll have to attend to. I immerse myself in it, slowly forgetting all about Edward. The job itself seems straightforward. I'll have to meet a few clients to find out the particulars. But nothing too stressful. A few bonds to take care of, but it is mostly rich people and their wills. Hours pass unnoticed before Martha hollers at me.

"You haven't lifted your head up once girl, it's been two hours."

I look up, startled again. I don't think she has a low voice at all. She's affable though. I think we'll get along just fine. I glance at the clock and it shows a quarter past eleven. I look back at Martha and she's still looking at me. I realize I haven't replied to her.

"Just getting to know the job better," I smile at her a little embarrassed that I'm so into the job.

"Want to know the coffee machine better?" she asks, sarcasm in her voice. She gets up and points her fingers towards a door, gesturing me to join. I am a little tired. I figure a break will do no harm and follow her. Through the corner of my eye, I see Edward's gaze following me. He makes no move to conceal when I turn my face to him. He continues to look at me, his expression unchanged. It's a stare down contest as I continue to walk towards the door. His eyes, they're intense. The stare, unnerving. I detect a faint smile as I open the door and enter a small, drab room, painted white.

"Black?" Martha asks and I nod with a hesitant smile, trying to forget what happened.

"You need not work so hard. They don't pay extra for that," she says grinning and I laugh with her.

"I just like to be involved," I say.

"Well, don't expect to be appreciated for it. Here," she says handing a cup.

As Martha tells me more about herself and her family, I feel happy about the normalcy beginning to enter my life. A small office, nice colleagues, it all seems to be headed towards as normal a life as possible. There's Edward, of course, my mind reminds me. I choose to concentrate on Martha instead.

She has a daughter who's finishing school and invites me to join her family sometime for dinner. I'm pleasantly surprised at how welcoming she is.

When we head out, my eyes involuntarily move to Edward's desk. He's missing. I thank my stars and take my place. I wrestle with my mind convincing it that it's a good thing. As my day continues I catch myself looking at his desk from time to time, hoping to see him, staring at me. I lunch with Martha and Michael at a nearby restaurant. Michael's a very funny man. He's witty with laws as well, which I didn't know was possible. We head back to the office and my heart skips a beat when I see Edward at his spot. Our talk draws his eyes towards us and like before, they rest on me. I refuse to play his game and continue talking to Michael but I can't help but feel all warm and fuzzy inside. Michael's talking about an amendment made to foster home laws but I don't think I am processing any of it. I excuse myself and head back to my desk, aware that he's watching. I cast a glance to confirm it and turn my head towards the computer again.

I walk back home, a conflict raging between my mind and body. Every ounce of sense in me asks me not to act on what I so badly want. And every string in my heart asks me to shed my inhibitions and embrace what might turn out to be good. My mind reminds me of all that's gone wrong and my heart counters it with the hope of all that could go right. The debate rages on, as I walk, until it's an incomprehensible mess of madness, making no sense at all. I clench my fist, angry at myself for allowing a stranger to affect me so much. I reach home and head straight to the wine rack. Alcohol has been my trusted companion for some time now. I plonk down on my couch and switch on the TV, deciding that I'd rather watch people dance terribly than think about Edward.

It's day two at my office and nothing's changed. Well, Edward looks a little hotter than yesterday. He's not staring at me though. I'm slightly disappointed at that. My eyes steal glances of him as he works. He's impeccably dressed, like yesterday. A dark blue shirt embraces his body, stretched near his shoulders. His blonde hair is swept sideways. A few unruly strands form a golden rainbow as they fall loosely to his eyebrows. The eyes that radiated intensity yesterday look calm but focused. His square face sports a short, sparse beard running halfway through his jawline. For all my fears about getting into a relationship, there's a primal, basic, animalistic attraction towards him. My mind goes to very dark and hot places before I reign it back and turn to work.

It's almost evening when I go through a file of a divorced woman who's not getting child support money. It's been months since she received a dollar. It's already been marked 'assigned' so I won't handle the case but I want to know more.

"Martha, you're handling... Jenny, Jenny Hoffman's case?" I ask.

"Nope. Never heard the name," she replies.

"That's my case," Edward says. I turn to him and now he's looking at me.

"I... I just wanted to know a few more details. I was going through the file and..." my voice trails off when he walks straight up to my desk. He drags a chair and sits right in front of me, on the other side of the table.

"What do you want to know?" he asks.

"I wanted to know more about the family, that's all," I say trying to sound as normal as possible.

He goes on to explain the entire case, in detail, professionally. I relax and we talk about the case for about an hour. It's been a strictly-business type of talk and yet as he stands up to go back, I want him back. Back in front of me. He takes his seat and I look up at the clock. It's almost time for me to leave. As I get up Edward says:

"I'm going to their place tomorrow. You can join me."

I don't think my eyes have sparkled like this in a while. Not only do I want to be with him for a longer time, I also want to see and talk to Ms. Hoffman.

"Yes. I would love that," I say, enthusiasm in my voice.

As I head home today, a few barriers have been broken. I want to know Edward more. I like him.

The next evening, after work, Edward and I go over to Ms. Hoffman's place and talk about what exactly needs to be done. Edward's voice has changed. It's not gruff anymore, it's more sympathetic. His words echo that as well.

"Everything will be taken care of Ms. Hoffman. You need not even enter the court premises," he says, his voice clear, but the tone indicating that he understands her problem. The sun is setting as we leave her place and he offers to drive me home. I ask him if he can drop me to the office instead. My fears are taking over again. I don't know if I want him to know where I live, just yet. He agrees and we drive back to the office. I go in to collect my bag. Everyone seems to have gone home for the day and as I come out, he's still there, leaning against his car, hands in his pockets, looking sideways towards the road. Last rays of the sun fall on his back, gifting me a wonderful view of his silhouette. As I pass him, he smiles. It's not professional at all. I blush furiously and walk faster.

The next day, Edward seems to have taken leave of his professionalism altogether. I feel his eyes roaming... all over me. He's unabashedly gawking at me and I like it. I clench my thighs as moisture gathers between my legs. I adjust myself just a little on the chair and I hear him chuckle. I don't want to look up at him. I try to get back to work but I know he's looking. I know what he wants. I hope he doesn't know I want it just as bad as him.

It's lunchtime and Martha and Michael invite me to join them. I'm going through the case and I say I'll join them later.

"Don't kill yourself working," Michael says with a smile and they leave.

I finalize my recommendations and head over to Edward's desk to give it to him. I explain, in detail, what I think needs to be done so that Ms. Hoffman gets money that's owed to her. When I finish, he's still looking at me. He gets up and walks to the other side of the desk where I'm standing. I'm nervous and excited at the same time.

"Can I kiss you?" he asks, standing very close to me.

"Wh... What?" I reply, holding my breath.

"Can I kiss you, Catherine?" he repeats, closer to me. My brain goes on an overdrive, yelling at me to just run away. My body on the other hand, wants it. Wants it more than anything. My heart wants me to move on.

"Yes. Yes, you can ki-," I say before his lips stop me.

He pulls me closer and my breasts meet his chest. It's a kiss of pure passion. A kiss that awakens my dormant hunger. His left hand massages my neck just below my jaw while his right hand roams on my back, stopping just above my ass. His tongue lunges in and explores my mouth in earnest. Our tongues dance in delight for some time before I pull out, breathless. He's still holding me, his hands are still where they were and smile is just naughty.

"You're a sub, right?" he asks and all my fears are back again. All the horrors are back and I pull away from him. He's surprised but let's his grip loosen. I stand back, trying to answer. He looks at me but doesn't say anything.

"I'm... I'm not a sub. I'm not... not anymore," I say finally.


"I don't want to talk about it."

He looks at me for a few seconds.

"How about a vanilla date?"

"A what?"

"A vanilla date. We can go out tomorrow. I want to know you."

I want that. I don't want to be a sub but I want him.

"Where are we going?" I ask.

"I was hoping to surprise you," he says.

"No. I want to know where we're going."

My defense mechanisms are working overtime. I don't want to find myself somewhere. I want to know beforehand. His face shows he's confused. But I don't budge.

"The Art Institute," he says after a few seconds.

"What?" I ask, genuinely surprised at his choice.

"The Art Institute, that's where I want to take you."

"Who takes a girl out to a museum on a first date?"

"Well, if the girl doodles 'The Dove of Peace' on the back of a file, I think she'd like to see 'The old guitarist' and 'The Red Armchair' as well."

I look at him, too shocked to speak. I had scribbled the 'Dove of Peace' on a file that I gave him yesterday. But he saw it. And he knows what it is. I couldn't have thought of a better place. I stand there, dumbfounded. He pulls me towards him and I don't resist.

"I told you. I want to know you," he whispers and plants a kiss on my ear.

This time, I lift my head up and kiss him. He pulls me closer and just as his hands travel down my neck, I hear Martha.

"I'm sure the Hoffman lady is delighted at the cooperation you guys are showing."

Both of us take a step back and turn to Martha and Michael who are grinning. I look down immediately, flush with embarrassment.

"Just getting to know my colleague better Martha," Edward chimes in, extending his hands behind my shoulders and pulling me towards him. My head rests against the side of his chest and I hear more grins. I want to hide somewhere. I break free and go back to my desk, head down.

"Calm down girl, we aren't reporting this... just yet," Martha says after a few seconds. I look at her, smile and look back to my screen quickly. As we all settle down, I look up to see Edward. The bastard's beaming at me. For the rest of the day, he ogles at me and I love it. I pass the rest of the day stealing glances of him looking at me. As I'm about to leave, he walks up to my desk.

"So, ten o clock, tomorrow morning. We meet here?" he asks.


"I don't know where you live. And I don't want to push," he says shrugging his shoulders.

I want him to know where I live. I want him to know a lot more than that.

"Can you walk me home?" I ask, getting up.

A boyish smile spreads on his face and he holds his hand out to me and I take it. As we walk out, I can see Martha shaking her head sideways, smirking. There's a guarded happiness that's spreading through me. Things have gone wrong long enough. I want this to go well. He wraps his hand round my back while I guide him through the streets. There is one question I've wanted to ask him though.

"You asked if I was a sub. How did you know?"

"Honestly, I didn't. It was hoping that you were. That's all."


"A dom, yes. But, not with you. Not until or if you want it," he says as we reach my house.

"Tomorrow, ten, I'll pick you up here?" he asks.


He leans in and our lips meet. There's nothing artsy about the kiss. It's as raw as a kiss can get and maybe pushes the boundaries of what's acceptable in front of the gate. His left hand rests on the nape of my neck while his right hand... wanders. My back is towards the gate and his hand meanders on my ass, sending signals directly to my pussy. His erection presses against my lower stomach. I almost lift my left leg off the ground before he pulls off.

Damn it!

"I get carried away too quickly," he says laughing.

I laugh with him. He has an easing effect on me. His hand is still on my back and I'm surprised when he plants a peck on my nose. I look at him and he just says:

"See you tomorrow."

"Bye," I say and he leaves.

I open my wardrobe and go through my collection. It's been some time since I've dressed up. I decide to play it cool and pull on a faded jeans and a white top. I slap on a leather jacket and declare myself ready. I'm pulling a pair of blue loafers on when I see his car pull up. I open the door and walk up to him. No office shirt today. He's wearing a dark blue shirt that hugs his muscles and a black jeans pant.

"The day just got brighter," he says and gives me a quick kiss.

We enter the museum and decide that we want to see the European paintings. He leads me as if he knows the place inside out.

"You like arts?" I ask.

"Yeah, I guess you could say that," he replies.

There's a tourist vibe to the place. Incomprehensible murmurs, people on guided tours, children shouting occasionally. I slowly zone them out as Edward talks about the paintings and exhibits themselves. He just doesn't like arts. He could teach if he wanted to. He sources every painting to its origin and tells me why it was painted. The methods, the style, the complete history. I share his passion for arts but I'm nowhere near as knowledgeable. I listen to him trying to drink in as much as possible from what seems to be an endless well of knowledge. He swells as he talks of 'The Arrival of Normandy Train' and almost jumps in excitement when we see 'A Sunday Afternoon'. The behavior is infectious. I can't help but share it. We stop at 'Love's Melancholy'. It's a portrait of a woman standing in front of her dead husband's grave. He takes my ring finger between his forefinger and thumb. The white that my wedding ring left has almost faded. But it's there and I know he knows. Looking at me, he says:

"Not everything ends well."

He doesn't talk much after that. We walk around for a while but I don't really know what we're seeing. We exit in silence and I'm agitated. He needs to know what happened. As we walk towards the car in the multistory parking lot, I stop him.

"Why did you show me 'Love's Melancholy'?" I ask.

"Out of all that we saw, why do you remember only that?" he counters.

I can feel the horrors of my past rising inside me.

"He isn't dead Edward."

"I didn't say he was."

"We got married when I was twenty three. Five years ago. He was my dom. It was nice for three or so years. Then... then it all went south."

He doesn't say anything. I continue.

"He started crossing boundaries. Abuse, pain, it all got too horrible. He did not stop when I used my safe word. He almost choked me one day. I filed a case of domestic abuse and eventually he was sentenced. This was a year ago. Then I moved here, trying to get away from it all."

"I am sorry for what happened," he says, his voice is soft. It's sincere. It's honest.

"I'm not looking for a fling Catherine. I like you, a lot," he says.

"I like you too. But, I don't know if I want to be a sub."

"Don't. Even if you hadn't told me this, I wouldn't have asked you to be. And now that you've told me, I'll never."

He's close to me. Our lips almost meet but he doesn't kiss me. He pulls me closer still and I feel his erection. A mischievous smile appears on his face.

"Now, what do you say we postpone lunch for a while, and let me help you forget your asshole ex-husband," he says, pushing his cock harder. And just like that, I want him in me. I want him to fuck me like there's no tomorrow. I push back against his cock.

"I think I like that too," I say and kiss him. The dampness between my legs spread to my panties as he cups my ass. I don't know if anyone's watching but I don't really give a shit right now. His other hand is doing the massage thing again to my neck. His tongue meets mine and they intertwine within no time. He pulls out again.

"What?" I ask, pulling him back closer.

"If we go on anymore, the security woman in the corner there, she'll report us for public nudity," he says.

I turn to look at the woman in the booth and she looks confused. We don't look like teenagers, but our behavior suggests just that. I laugh and we head towards the car. As we exit the car park we pass through the security woman's booth. She's on his side. He slows the car down and says:

"Very important kiss, sorry."

"Idiots," she laughs. We laugh with her and pull away. As we head out into the streets, I decide not to overthink it. I like him, he likes me and that is all there is to it. I look down and see the outline of his cock on the jeans. Without thinking I hold his crown between my forefinger and thumb. He looks at me in shock. I just laugh and squeeze him gently.

"Not the shy girl anymore, huh?" he asks.

"Actually I am. Just not today, not now," I say.

"You're dealing with forces unknown Catherine."

"I think I know what I'm dealing with," I say running my index finger down his length.

He takes my hand and keeps it on my lap.

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bygoliathslawyer© 5 comments/ 4105 views/ 7 favorites

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