Tuesday

You're not sure if you can ask, but you don't know what else you can do. Otherwise he's going to keep asking you the same question and turning that little dial until you pass out. And while some part of you is deeply, intensely enjoying his rough treatment of you, the rest of you shrieks for you to find a way to end this part of the evening.

'Please sir... I don't... I can't answer your question.' You whimper at him in a tiny little voice.

It's difficult to talk because you want to cry. He's pushed you far beyond where you feel comfortable. It's been hyper intense, brutal abuse all evening. And while you've been longing for this sort of thing for a long time, you don't know how much more you can take.

'Would you like me to tell you your name girl?' He asks without looking at you as he fiddles with the dials.

'Please sir... please tell me my name.' You plead.

He looks at you and then looks away and scratches his chin as he ponders your request.

'Please...' You beg him. You need to know.

'Tuesday.' He says finally.

'Tuesday?'

'Your name is Tuesday girl. Do you have a problem with that?'

'No!' You practically squeak.

He smiles broadly at you. His hand brushes up against your cheek, and then he flicks your hair back. You can't help but smile back up at him.

It's odd how he turns the intimidation on and off with you. One moment he's gentle, the next he's snarling into your ear and doing something borderline horrific to you.

It's also odd how you really don't have a problem with any of it.

He calmly starts to release you from the chair, and the restraints and straps fall away until you can slump forward and clutch your hands to yourself. The electricity left no marks on you, as per his preference, but you feel incredibly sensitive in those areas.

You stand slowly and suddenly feel dizzy as all the adrenaline slamming through your bloodstream slowly seeps away. He slips an arm around you and pulls you into him and you're thankful for that because it's difficult to stand suddenly. You shiver in the suddenly cold back room and press up against him for heat.

He wraps both arms around you in a gentle hug and feels you shaking.

'Are you cold girl?'

'I'm f-f-freezing sir.' You stammer out between suddenly chattering teeth.

'Hang on a moment.' He lifts you up casually and sets you onto the table next to the box containing your things. He makes sure you're steady and then he turns and quickly walks over to another non-descript cabinet. You watch with dread as he opens it, fearful of another sadistic toy you might have to endure, but as he opens the door you see it's just filled with blankets. He plucks two off a large pile and walks back to you unfolding the blankets as he does so.

A moment later he's wrapping the surprisingly warm blankets around you. You look up at him in confusion. You've had blankets warmed for you before, but you weren't expecting them here.

He sees your look of confusion and chuckles.

'It's a blanket warmer. People play a little bit intense in this room sometimes.' He explains to you.

You clutch the blankets tighter to you. The warmth is welcomed and helps you relax, which is actually a problem, because you suddenly feel exhausted. You lean forward and press your forehead against his chest.

He cradles your head in his hands and does something completely unexpected. He starts to massage your scalp and gently pull on your hair.

You groan quietly. It's been so long since anyone massaged any part of you. And to make it worse, this is after a long evening of him tormenting you and testing you, and even that occurred after you went to the gym and punished your body for over an hour.

Padraic works on your skull and neck for a few minutes and then he slides the blanket off your shoulders and starts to knead and work your shoulder muscles.

And that's when something unexpected happens.

You start to cry.

At first you don't understand what's happening, but suddenly it's like an explosion and it's all you can do to not fall over and sob like a child.

Padraic doesn't react other than to hold you up so that you can let it out and he keeps rubbing your back and stroking your hair.

'Let it out girl.' He says quietly.

'I... I don't... understand... what... why...' You gasp out between sobs as tears liberally drip down your face. You feel intensely embarrassed for the first time this evening. Even before when you were sandwiched between two men and used like little more than a toy, which was more exciting than shameful, you didn't feel like this.

This just feels like you've hit your limit. It isn't that you don't think you could keep playing, you're pretty sure that if Padraic wanted to peel these warm blankets away you'd be aroused and eager and compliant. It feels like you've experienced so much in one night that you don't have any ability left to process it.

And it feels like Padraic knows that too. He just comforts you with soothing touches through the blanket.

'How do you... I don't...' You try to ask a question but your mind is so jumbled up that you can't even get the words straight.

'I just know girl. I just know. Take your time.' He says soothingly.

And so you stop fighting it.

And Padraic just comforts you until you're done.

It takes a while for you to release all of it. It just keeps pouring out of you and you cry as hard as you ever have for what feels like an eternity but in reality is barely ten minutes.

It's made easier by Padraic silently rubbing your back and neck and making soothing sounds. Occasionally when you begin to sob he just holds you tight and just tells you to let it go and it's all ok.

And that would be incredibly calming to you if this wasn't impossibly confusing. How does he downshift like that? Barely thirty minutes ago he was doing excruciating things to you with electricity. Now he's gentle as a lamb with you.

You didn't expect dark disturbing fantasy sex to be this complex.

Eventually, you run out of confusing emotions to fuel the tears and you rub your eyes red and sore as you try and recover from what to you feels like the most embarrassing part of the evening.

'I'm so... sorry about that.' You finally say out loud to Padraic when you've regained enough composure to do so.

'It's somewhat expected girl, don't worry about it.' He replies calmly.

You look over at him, unsure how to respond to that. You can't even muster the energy to be confused right now. You just feel so drained that you desperately want sleep.

'I should... I should go. It's late.' You say with a deep sigh.

'I know. We need to do a couple of things first though. Can you wait here a moment?'

You hug the blankets tightly around you for a moment and nod. Speaking takes too much energy.

He pats you on the back and steps out of the back room for a moment, and when he returns he carries a bottle of peppermint schnapps, a pair of shot glasses and a velvet bag. Padraic sets the bag on the table next to you and then pours out two shots of Schnapps and hands you one of the glasses.

You hold the glass in your hand for a moment and look at him. He did this last time, a shot of strong drink to 'clean the taste from your mouth.'

You needed it last time because you'd been cleaning a bathroom floor with your tongue, which is a thought that should make you shudder. It doesn't though. You think back on that time and you knew then that he had what you wanted. He could take you to the dark, deep places and show you the things you wanted to see and feel.

God, you had longed for this.

But here you were now, battered, exhausted and tired and holding another shot glass.

Why?

'What does this mean?' You ask and look at the glass.

'It means that playtime has come to a close.' He says calmly. 'And now we have to return to our boring lives and wait until next week.'

You look at him blankly and then nod. The glass rises to your lips and you slug back the strong liquor with a shudder. The peppermint and alcohol slap you back to alertness quickly.

'Ungh... that's strong stuff.' You say aloud.

'Imported from Germany. About twice as strong as the domestic stuff.' He says as he tosses back his own shot.

'Did you say your life is boring?' You ask him.

'I own a bar. I have a staff of exactly two and they don't work during the week. There are floors to be mopped, lines to be cleaned, bookwork to be done. My life isn't glamorous.'

You look around the room and then give him a pointed look.

'That's more torturous than glamorous.' He says with a deadpan voice.

'I see.' You respond, unsure what to say next. 'Maybe I should get dressed.'

He nods and then pulls your cellphone out of his pocket and sets it on the table. The key is produced a moment later and the box filled with your clothing is opened up. He starts producing the jeans and t-shirt you wore to meet him and your cute little purse as well.

'Why did you lock my clothing up like that.' You ask, your curiosity piqued.

'It's a mental aspect of playtime. You lock away that other part of you, so the part you hide away...'

'Can be free.' You finish for him.

'Yeah. Exactly that.' He says with not quite a smile, but more of a nod.

You smile though. It's like you're part of the club now.

'Can I ask something of you?' You blurt out suddenly.

'Sure.'

'Please don't threaten to call my husband. I don't care if you slap me or hurt me or make me do things that frighten me or disgust me... but I can't handle that.'

Padraic ponders that for a moment. Then he nods.

'That's reasonable. I'll respect that.'

'Thank you.' You say quietly.

A silence falls across the conversation for a moment, and you start slipping back into your underwear.

'So... does that mean you're coming back next week?' He asks you. He looks at you with his head cocked, as if he's unsure of the answer.

You nod.

'Say it please.' He asks.

'I'm coming back. I... I... don't...' You struggle with the words, unsure how to describe what you feel.

'You don't feel like you're done yet.'

'No. I don't. How do you know these things?' You ask him. Your voice is filled with confusion. How does he know so much about what you are thinking?

'I just know.' He says quietly. His face stays blank and unreadable.

You stare at him for a moment, unsure what to say or do. Then you take an action that neither of you is expecting.

You lean forward and place your hand gently on his cheek. You lips brush his in a tender kiss.

He doesn't know how to process that. He's prepared for just about anything but a show of affection. He steps back and flushes a little.

Huh. That's interesting.

'Can I ask you for one other thing?' You say to him, your eyes lock onto his weathered and stubbled face.

'Yes?' He says quietly.

'Thank you for not leaving marks on me. Really. I appreciate that. But please...'

You pause, uncertainty making it hard to choose the words to express what you're thinking. You ponder it for a few seconds then forge ahead when you feel that the moment is going to be lost.

'Please don't... hold back. Be as violent and aggressive with me as you want to be. Use my body however you want to. Show me every dark... secret you know.'

The room is still for a moment as he processes that. Then he slowly nods one more time.

'Say it.' You demand of him. You need to hear the words come from his lips.

'I won't hold back. Ever.' He says firmly.

Silence falls across the room one last time, and then you speak.

'Is that a threat or a promise?'

'It's both.' He answers you with a tone of voice that chills your heart and warms your loins at the same time.

'Thank you.' Is all that you can coax out of your throat.

Padraic tidies up the back room while you finish getting dressed and you both are silent for a time. You're still reliving the things you did and had done to you tonight and he seems to be mulling the things that you asked of him when you talked.

You seem well matched. He does seem to understand you on a very basic level. He does cruel things to you in a way that you like and yet he's sane and cautious with you at the same time.

You want to know more about him. You're certain you're not allowed to ask however. It seems like an unwritten rule, and you feel eager to please him.

He walks you to the door, and you prepare yourself to be thrown out. The last time he was blunt to the point of viciousness with you.

He surprises you this time however, and he just produces the little velvet bag and slips open the drawstring. He produces a little slip of leather with a simple buckle and a dangling metal nametag on it, like the kind you buy for a pet. It's a simple collar for a cherished... pet.

You look at it, and then look up at him.

'This is for you, for when the... urges get strong. Just hold it and remember that it's only a few days away.'

He slips the collar around your throat and the buckle clicks into place silently. The collar is worn and feels comfortable around your throat. You raise your hand to the metal nametag and it jingles slightly.

You close your eyes for a moment and just bask in this sensation. The collar snug around your neck, placed there by the man that promised to use you brutally and without compromise.

Just like you asked him to.

'Thank you.' You say quietly. Your voice cracks a little as you say it.

'One thing girl.'

'Yes?'

'If you ever lose that, I'll do more than leave marks on you. Do you understand?'

You nod your head, and your hand rises to clutch the little collar protectively. It's not that you are afraid; it's just that you realize that he not only gave you a collar, he gave you a memento that means a tremendous amount to him for some reason.

'Yes sir.' You say quietly as you unconsciously drop into the role you have dreamed of for so long.

'And when we end girl, you will return that to me.'

'Of course sir.'

He leans down and returns the kiss you gave him earlier. He cups your face and his lips brush your own in a gentle manner that is shocking to you. You expect nearly anything from him, but not gentle shows of affection.

Your mind spins for a moment and he takes that opportunity to usher you out the door. You stand outside the door for a moment and reel. He keeps battering you with things you just don't expect. He's brutal then gentle, kind then ferocious, generous and then threatening to you.

He's confusing and disturbing and oh so vicious with you.

And then it hits you. You see him slipping the bolts in place on the door and you turn and knock on the glass. He looks up at you with a cocked eyebrow, and the affectionate man you saw just a moment ago is already locked away inside him.

Still you have to ask him.

'When we end sir? What do you mean?'

He looks at you through the glass for a moment, his face blank and unreadable again.

'Everything ends girl. Don't you know that?' He says through the glass.

And then he turns and walks into the darkness again.

You watch him fade into the blackness and feel sad for a moment, but you don't understand why. Your hand drifts to your throat again and the tag jingles quietly as you touch the tiny gift he gave you.

You lose yourself in thought on the drive home. Your mind reels at everything that happened tonight.

At least you can mull everything without sobbing now.

The car pulls quietly into the driveway and you park silently. Moments later you're inside in your little home and the creaks and smells you know so well comfort you. Your husband snores in the bedroom, the TV flipped to the save point on the video game he's been obsessing on lately. The harsh lighting flickers across the walls.

You use it to slip out of your clothing and into your nightclothes. You think briefly about taking a shower, but realize that you actually already took one at Padraic's apartment. You're about to slide into bed when the little nameplate on the collar jingles.

You flush for a moment. That would have been hard to explain in the morning.

You slip silently out of bed and slip the latch on the collar. The warm little strip of leather slides into your hand. The little nameplate jingles again and you can finally see what it says on the weathered little nameplate.

It says one word. And it's hard to read because the letters are worn down.

Tuesday.

The tag says Tuesday.

You know then that there is a story behind this collar, and he's chosen to make you a part of it. You stand there for a long time and just hold it in your hand.

End of Tuesday ~ Part One