Bound to You (30 page)

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Authors: Nichi Hodgson

BOOK: Bound to You
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‘No, I haven’t been watching it. I’ve just been watching women’s self-defence videos and wanking to them instead.’

‘What?’

‘You know, I love watching women learn to fight. Vengeful women do it for me every time.’

‘Interesting. I’ve been thinking about getting my personal trainer to teach me to box.’

‘Yep, well, there’s little better than feisty women that might think about taking you on before you beat them down into submission. Feisty women that wave a pair of scissors around in front of your cock . . .’

Sebastian wasn’t actually being serious. Was he?

‘So if you were to wake up one morning to the sight of me brandishing a pair of scissors about your boxers, that would do it for you?’

‘Shut up, are you kidding me?! You’ll give me a hard on. But Nichi . . .’ He came in closer to me, I presumed, for a kiss. ‘If you do start boxing you’ll have to wear those earrings. I bet every man who sees them thinks, castration! And then promptly goes home to have a wank over them.’

I dissolved into a flood of perturbed giggles. Sebastian and I had had a few strange conversations in our time but this was definitely one of the most bizarre.

‘Sebastian, let me tell you, as an experienced former pro-domme, castration play is not something I was ever asked for. You and all your imaginary sympathetic friends are on your own with that one!’

The next day at work, still wearing the scissor earrings, I started to think about the conversation in the pub. Had Sebastian been serious or was it just his slightly edgy way of letting off steam? He’d been increasingly moody of late. Not necessarily with me, but I knew, from the way he described his struggles to come to terms with what had happened between Lana and him, that Sebastian’s dark moods were bile-black. I fondled the earrings and thought again about the night I had ‘switched’ the sex round and grabbed him by the balls, how his face had taken on a kind of peaceful suffering as I taunted him.

This just sounded too extreme to be a mere stress reliever, though. Imagining and wanking over this kind of extreme play was one thing, but acting it out?

Then again, hadn’t I enacted mildly violent fantasies for my clients and never flinched when they asked me for things that would have seemed twisted to other people? Wouldn’t it be hypocritical of me to moralise about it, just because this was someone I loved? And of all the people to do this, wasn’t I the safest?

This was another thing, along with the idea of marriage, that I needed to think about thoroughly before I offered it up. I felt some reluctance on both scores but I could think of little I wouldn’t do for Sebastian.

I decided to wait until I heard from him. These weren’t issues you could discuss over text.

Five days passed and there was nothing but silence from Sebastian.

On the fifth day I wondered whether I should ring him. I was becoming genuinely worried about him. Then, on my way home from the office to the tube station, I bumped into Violet.

‘Oh God, I haven’t seen you for months, how’s it going?’ She gave me an awkward hug.

‘Yeah, good!’ I tried to fake a smile. I didn’t feel so great, but I had no real reason to be overly anxious. Going days without contact, I had come to realise, was just Sebastian’s way.

‘So, what’s going on with you and Sebastian? The last thing I heard, you were regularly stepping out together, and then last night I saw him at this gig I went to with Dan. He was in a weird mood and didn’t mention you once. Are you still seeing each other?’

Jesus Christ, Violet could be candid. I suppose her honesty was to be admired. But right now, it just made me want to cry. My heart hit the ground and lay there flailing about on the pavement, imploring Sebastian to pick it back up

‘We’re still seeing each other,’ I replied, a little too sharply. ‘He’s just, well, I guess it’s just casual.’

‘You guess or you know?’ Violet tilted her head and looked askance. ‘Look, Nichi, Sebastian is a sweetheart but he’s also got some weird attachment – or rather –
detachment
issues. Make sure you know where you stand with him.’

All the way home I played out the conversation I’d had with Violet in my mind. I wanted to believe that Sebastian had just not felt like being sociable when Violet had seen him but that didn’t explain the half of this. It didn’t explain his worsening mood and it certainly didn’t explain why he went AWOL in between dates.

I thought back to the first night I’d met him and how genial he’d been, with everyone. Was it possible that our connection was nothing special after all? The thought made me feel as if I were losing all sense of what was reasonable. Maybe this was just what he did: formed over-intimate bonds with people he didn’t really care about because . . . because what? Logic kept losing me in the impossible labyrinth of Sebastian’s emotional life.

Meanwhile, my heart felt as though he’d come over and shaken it up. Despite the incredibly hot sex and the intimacy, nothing seemed to hold his attention for long. I felt as if I had to constantly provoke him in order to remind him to pay me attention. I started to think about the scissor earrings again. They had certainly captivated him. It was a desperate measure but maybe this was what it was going to take to get him to respond to me this time.

I texted Sebastian. ‘So, Sebastian. I’ve been thinking . . . I’ve got a little game we can play. It will involve me wearing the scissor earrings.’

Immediately Sebastian replied. ‘Hey! Really? That sounds amazing and no less menacing than it should. When were you thinking?’

‘Well, when are you free?’

‘I could fit some menace in on Thursday, Friday or Sunday. Or tomorrow, if that isn’t too short notice.’

I was desperate to see him. I didn’t care if he knew it any more. Before I had time to reply to his text he messaged again. ‘Oh, God, I’m loving this already!
Way
too hard to meditate!’

‘Tomorrow then,’ I replied.

‘Tomorrow then! I have just the scissors for the job ;)’

That night I lay in bed agonising over my decision until well past three. Was this the right thing to do, to try and satisfy one of Sebastian’s ultimate and extreme fantasies? It was a bloody irony that the domme who had so vehemently stayed away from all forms of medical play was now finding herself about to enact perhaps the most sinister one she’d ever heard.

Well, that was another thing, I’d not actually heard it in any real detail. I had no idea how Sebastian envisaged this thing panning out. Which wasn’t any different from any of the other sex we’d been having. That was the thing with embarking on this kind of relationship. You gave someone your trust, but if you’d plotted out every sexual encounter, it would have become pretty staid pretty quickly. The not knowing exactly how someone would dominate you was at least half of the point.

But why hadn’t Sebastian texted me? How could he have called me Nichi
mou
, called me his unicorn, and yet still be treating me like a girl in university halls he hooked up with when he had nothing better to do? Where did all that hand-holding in the night, or the begging me to send him clips of me discussing the papers on Sky News because it really ‘did it’ for him, come from if not from a place of desire and deep feeings, of burgeoning love?

And what about the sex? The mind-blowing, soul-shaking sex? Sebastian was a phenomenal lover, but you couldn’t have the kind of passionate sex we had without a real and raw connection, could you?

I lay awake for another hour, trying desperately not to cry. I didn’t want crimson-puff eyes tomorrow. Instead, I wanted to look knock-out hot. I wanted him to remember the first time. I wanted him to think, I want this woman and everything she can offer me.

Sebastian was waiting for me at the tube station again. He had a look of fractious exhilaration on his face, and his blue eyes seemed to spark when he saw me.

In the end I decided to wear the outfit I had worn the first night we had had sex. The backless dress. The snakeskin shoes. Stockings. Only now I had a smoky-eyed red-lipped face, crimson nails and a look of impervious resolve.

Sebastian came forward to kiss me and took my bag. Like a gentleman? Or like a slave? I was tense. Is this how it was to be all evening? I needed to switch off the interior monologue and concentrate on making this experience as safe, sane and sexy as possible for both of us.

We’d arranged to go for dinner first. This time we went to a Cantonese diner with large, discreet booths and lax service. At least it gave us time to talk.

When we had paid the bill, split it as I always insisted we did, we made the short walk back to Sebastian’s flat, talking about Iranian politics. ‘How could a country so crazy produce all those beautiful women!’ I joked.

‘TELL me about it!’ Sebastian seemed to swoon.‘That whole region in fact! You know how I feel about Queen Rania of Jordan . . .’

I laughed but inside I was crumbling. Why was I feeling so insecure? It was only Sebastian messing about. I mentioned other people I found attractive often enough. Didn’t I? I tried to think of an example but my mind was blank.

‘Yes, but I don’t think she’s into domination somehow,’ I teased.

‘Oh God, I’d never dominate her! Instead I’d lay her down by candlelight. I have reveries about her. In my mind she’s always wearing a white angora sweater held together by a single button.’

In the flat, Sebastian’s chatter gave way to nerves. ‘I noticed your earrings as soon as I picked you up from the station. You don’t know how many times I’ve fantasised about someone doing this for me.’ He gazed at down at me with a look approaching adoration.

I could never be agitated with Sebastian for long. After all, I loved him. But he’d really hurt me this time. Did he have so little respect for me that he thought it OK to praise other women while offering me nothing in the way of reassurance? Was I just a willing mouth and a wet hole to him? Or in this instance, a pair of scissor-wielding hands?

Sebastian was fiddling about in his drawer of wicked tricks, as I had named it. In it, he kept rope, ties, a ball gag, crops. When we’d first met he’d told me how he had all the props he needed ‘just here!’ and kissed his biceps in jest. But I did wonder now why we’d never opened the drawer before. Not that it had ever bothered me. Working as a domme, I’d had enough of props to last me a lifetime. Which was ironic given that now we found ourselves dependent on a domestic object to enact Sebastian’s ultimate fantasy.

Sebastian stood with his back to me for a moment then exhaled loudly. Was it my imagination or was he actually shaking? He turned around and handed me the scissors. Oh my God. They weren’t what I had been expecting, neither dressmaker’s nor the standard paper kind. They were for cutting through chicken bone, and had ferocious-looking curved and serrated blades held together with a spring and safety catch. This was crazy. I wasn’t going to do this.

‘Sebastian! They’re monstrous! Are you insane?’ Sebastian shook his head apologetically. ‘They’re really not as bad as they look. You can’t nick someone with them. Here. Try cutting a ribbon and see what happens.’

He handed me a red ribbon and the blades. I tried to cut with them. They chewed the fabric gummily.

‘Oh! So they’re not even sharp!’

‘No, they only cut through if you apply absolute pressure. And you don’t have the strength.’ He smiled at me fondly, caressing my shoulder. ‘They’re completely safe, Nichi. I promise you. They’re a visual aid to the fantasy, that’s all.’

‘OK. Well then . . .’ Mentally I took a deep breath. ‘Shall we begin?’

Sebastian undressed but for his briefs, and sat on the edge of the bed. If I wasn’t mistaken, he already had a hard-on. I arranged myself, fully clothed, on the one chair. It was so long since I’d done this. It felt at once so familiar and yet so absolutely alien, especially given what I was about to enact. Hadn’t you once dreamed of RADA, Nichi? Time to test your amateur actress’s mettle.

I placed the scissors beside me on the chair.

I was going to have to feel out this dialogue by paying extremely close attention to Sebastian’s reactions.

‘So, Sebastian . . .’ He looked up at me tremulously. ‘I’ve been thinking. About that cock of yours. Is it really necessary?’

Sebastian took a sharp intake of breath. That was a good start.

‘I mean, I know you’re pretty good at fucking me with it, but I’ve started to wonder if you having a penis isn’t a lot more hassle than it’s worth.’

‘What do you mean?’ Sebastian levelled the question at me.

I hadn’t bargained for that. It threw me for a moment, but I thought back to the times when the clients had done similar things. They weren’t trying to derail the role play, just test your authority. I needed him to believe that I was guiding this, even though Sebastian was absolutely topping from the bottom.

‘I mean,’ I continued, ‘that I think you in particular are governed by it a lot more than is good for you. I mean that you might feel easier without. Less burdened.’

‘But I wouldn’t,’ Sebastian retorted, softly, childishly. ‘I’d still have my balls. They’d drive me to distraction, encouraging me to think about sex knowing that without a cock I couldn’t ever satisfy myself.’

OK. I was beginning to get more of a sense of where Sebastian wanted this to go. This was about Sebastian’s subliminal concern that one day some woman might stop him from ever having sex again. But where was the erotic thread to this?

I inched my chair up towards him. He flinched as I stood up, then trembled as I settled back down, my stockinged knee now brushing against his bare one. I could tell from the straining under the fabric of his briefs that his erection had grown to a punishing proportion.

‘But Sebastian, don’t you think you might deserve it sometimes?’

‘How could I ever deserve it?’ he replied immediately.

‘Well, might it not be payback for being such a beautiful bastard, for being able to have any woman you want without any real regard for them?’

I had no idea if this were true or not, no real idea of how many women had gone before me, but I wondered if, like that client James, my first verbal domination, the one that Sapphire had told me wanted picking apart, Sebastian too got off on being confronted with and then chastised for his own narcissism.

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