Desired and Dominated (21 page)

“This place is so fuckin’ amazin’, Nate! We cannae get o’er how fan-fucking-tastic it is! The boys are goin’ mental for it. I dinnae think they’ve slept more than two hours since we got here.”

I can barely understand Campbell when he’s excited. He’s the lead singer of Flaming Embers, and he has a thick Glasgow accent. Usually he remembers to slow down and not use as much slang around me, but on days like today, he’s too excited and he’s talking at rapid speed. It almost sounds like he’s speaking a completely different language.

“Remember, you’ve got to learn to calm the accent down a bit here. Otherwise, Rolling Stone won’t be able to get any quotes for an interview!”

“Shut the fuck up man! You serious? You think a bunch o’ twats like us could make it that big here in the U.S. of A?”

I really like this guy. He’s only 21, but he’s lived a tough life in a rough part of Glasgow. He’s fought for everything that he has, and he appreciates every good thing that comes his way. He’s genuine, and in this business, that’s a rare commodity. “Only if you stop referring to the band as ‘a bunch of twats’!”

“Ha-fuckin’-ha! Duly noted!”

“Okay. So, we need to get the rest of the guys rounded up and have a talk about what I have planned for you over the next few weeks. Are they all here?”

“Sure. Hang on.” He disappears, but I can hear his low, strong rolling brogue from here. “Get yer arses out here lads. Nate’s wantin’ to talk shop. This ain’t a free ride, ya losers!”

They all come tumbling into the kitchen and I take a moment to look them over. Every teenage girl in America is going to swoon over these guys. They’re all so different, in personality and appearance, but each has a charm and sex appeal that is a prerequisite if you want to be really successful in the music business these days. It’s a sad fact, but it’s not all about your talent, which these boys also have in spades.

Campbell’s songwriting skills blew me away the first time I saw them in action, and his voice is…haunting. His low rasp loses the harsh accent, and transforms into something truly spectacular. He is an artist in his own right, but he would never sellout his friends for a solo deal, even if it meant never getting to live out his dream. The band as a whole, have a great energy on stage, and they have a strong indie following already, including Lily!

When I arranged for the boys to perform in London so Brandon and Lily could see them perform, Brandon called me the next day, completely blown away by how good they were. I knew then that I was onto a game changer for my label. He was eager to help bring them to the U.S. and endorse their first album. He’s been a great help with the business side of things, and I’m certain that I can use my experience to take them to the next level.

“How the fuck are you, Nate!? Thought you were goin’ tae party wi’ us last night, brother!” The other boys seem to speak in unison, and it makes me laugh. “It was fuckin’ epic.”

“I had…a prior engagement. I’m not here to get drunk with you, I’m here to turn you into rock stars. You ready for that?”

As one, all five guys shout, “HELL FUCKIN’ YAAASSS!”

“First thing’s first, calm down the cursing boys! I can’t market you to the screaming high school girls of America with every second word out of your mouth being ‘FUCK’.”

Campbell is the natural leader of the group being the front man, and he takes that roll seriously.

“Sorry, Nate. We’ll keep the swearin’ tae a minimum, at least in public. This actually
is
the lads holdin’ back. You should try holdin’ a conversation wi’ any one o’ their da’s. They’d make a sailor blush.”

“I’m not saying cut it out, girls love a bad boy, just rein it in a little for the press and when you’re working with people. You want to put your best foot forward, and make people
want
to work with you. I have you scheduled to start laying down tracks in the studio in two days. I want you to get some rest; some actual sleep. Sober up at least a little, and be ready for the car to pick you up at 10am on Monday.”

“I’m ready, man. I was born ready for this shit! I promise we won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t. I wouldn’t have brought you here if I didn’t think you could cut it. Just try to keep each other grounded, and don’t get carried away with all the trappings. It’s about the music, and if you stay true to that, everything else will follow. I’ll make sure of that.”

“We cannae thank you enough. Seriously. None of us thought for a second, that we would ever get out o’ Glasgow. Meeting wi’ you in Edinburgh was a reprieve from our sad fuckin’ lives. This…this is…I dinnae even have the words tae thank you enough.”

I stand from the table and give him a slap on the shoulder. “Don’t thank me yet. You have a long road ahead of you, but you deserve this, Campbell. You’re a talented son of a bitch. Now, I have to go to the office and make sure everything’s in place for Monday.”

All of the guys are shouting goodbye as I make my way out to the lobby. Campbell follows me out.

“You okay, big man? You seem a bit off today. Everything okay wi’ the deal?”

“It’s all good, Cam. Personal stuff. You wouldn’t believe me even if I told you!”

“Woman trouble?”

“Isn’t it always?” He’s a perceptive guy. Wise beyond his years. “I’ll see you Monday.”

“Later, man.”

I close the door behind me, and head to my office. A reprieve before heading back to Sofia’s apartment. I could do what I need to get done on my laptop, but I need some time to clear my head, to grasp the gravity of what I have agreed to with her.

As I sit in my office, quiet and deserted, I contemplate my afternoon - Sofia, Simon, what this all means. Their parents have practically adopted me as one of their own over the past nine years. Losing them would be hard, and as if he knows I’m thinking about him, my phone lights up with a message from Simon.

Simon: Drinks? Cube 8pm.

Me: Can’t tonight bro.

Simon: Stop banging your latest sex slave and come have a drink with me and Brandon.

Me: You’re a dick. Working. Maybe this week sometime?

Simon: I have a HUGE dick! You’re a loser. Will text you this week. Blow me off again and I’ll beat the shit out of you.

Me: You wish! Fuck off! Tell Brandon I said hi.

I hate lying to him, even if it’s in a text. This is exactly what I told Sofia I didn’t want to happen. If I’m going to make it work with her, I need to be honest with him. The reality is that he’s going to freak out and try to kill me rather than let me date her. We’ve been down this road once before, and it didn’t end well for us.

I think my days as his friend are numbered, but she’s worth it.

The past three weeks have been amazing and torturous at the same time. I’ve spent most nights with Sofia at her apartment, sleeping next to her, but not
with
her. I had planned on staying in the guest room, but I’m too drawn to her, and when we realized that her nightmares stop when I’m beside her, I couldn’t refuse her request as her Dom. It’s what’s best for her right now, even though it’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done. My level of self-control has been tested to its limit. Night after night with her curled up in my arms, her breasts pressed against my chest, her leg thrown over my thighs. It’s a beautiful kind of agony. Every minute of every day, I ache to be inside her.

The first week, I kissed her, licked her, made her come with my fingers, but I never let her touch me. Even then, it was too difficult. Trying to train her without being able to really take her, is new territory for me. I may be a Master, but I usually have all my…skills, at my disposal. Sex is a powerful incentive, and a strong bonding mechanism between a Dom and his sub. Taking that deepest of connections out of the equation has forced me to employ other tactics.

After that first week I had to stop even the foreplay, it was too confusing for her. She kept expecting more, and when I didn’t give it to her, she got frustrated and lashed out at me. It made her insecure, questioning my attraction to her. I felt like I was punishing her for my own shortcomings. In the end I discussed it with her and told her that until the four weeks were up, there would be no orgasms, other than the ones I allow her to give herself while I watch. No kissing. She pleaded with me, begging me to touch her, but that just showed me that she needs the training more than ever. She needs to respect my decisions and trust that I know what to do for the best. She doesn’t understand that it’s just as difficult for me. Every inch of her body was made for me, calling to me like a siren; whether she’s sitting across from me at the dinner table, watching TV on the couch with her legs in my lap, or tucked against my side in her sleep. I
want
her.

She still won’t talk to me about what terrorizes her during the night, but I think she’s beginning to trust me more. She seems more rested and happier in herself these days, and I would like to think that our burgeoning relationship has something to do with that. The fact that I can see a difference in her at night, is what I cling to. It’s what’s keeping me sane.

I feel like I’m slowly losing my mind. I’ve always been a very sexually aware kind of guy, but this is getting ridiculous. I can barely function! When I’m at the studio with the band, I find myself getting lost in fantasies of having Sofia in my playroom; the things I plan to do to her. I think I spend more than half my time trying to hide a semi.

Punishment has been almost a daily occurrence. She has such a fiery personality. I like to change things up, and I now know that the best way to punish her, is to deny her. Last week, I cuffed her to the dining chair and made her watch as I pleasured myself. She couldn’t touch herself, and her legs were also cuffed, so she couldn’t even press her legs together to alleviate the pressure. By the time I came all over her pretty blue skirt, she was promising me anything I asked if I would just let her come. I didn’t. That was hell for me, as well as her. I wanted to drop to my knees and lap at her glistening folds, to feel her come apart beneath the flick of my tongue.

Thankfully, I think we’re getting somewhere now. It’s a fine line training her to submit, without breaking the spirit in her that I fell in love with. As a Master, I have to learn the limits of my sub. People have preconceived ideas about BDSM. They think it’s a purely sexual thing, but it goes so much deeper than that. My main concern is always for her wellbeing. That pertains to every aspect of her life, not just her orgasms. I need to know that I am doing everything in my power to make sure she is safe, happy and healthy.

Our situation has been further complicated by the fact that we have known each other for such a long time, and the intense emotion between us has been there from the start. Usually that depth of feeling grows over time. In reality, I have never felt that way about any of my subs. These are unchartered waters for me.

Sofia’s injury is getting better every day. I’ve been careful not to let her push herself back to dancing too soon, because I know that she misses it, and that’s precisely why she needs to take her time, to avoid any long-term damage. She’s off her crutches, with a light bandage still in place, and her pain meds are down to a minimum.

Last week we were invited to Verona’s first birthday party, which was interesting. Sofia made me promise not to speak to Simon about us because she was worried he would react badly, and unintentionally ruin his little girl’s birthday. It didn’t sit well with me, but I respected her wishes. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding Si, and even at the party, I kept my interaction with him to a minimum. A lie of omission still feels like a lie, and until I knew for sure that she really wants this, I didn’t want to cause another family feud, but D-Day has arrived.

My thoughts are interrupted by Sofia at my back. She wraps her arms around my neck. “What’s got that frown line working overtime on your forehead?”

I take her hands in mine, lacing our fingers. “I need to talk to Si. I need to tell him that we’re seeing each other.”

“I thought you wanted to wait until the four weeks are up? Until you decide where we go from here?”

“I think we both know where this is headed, don’t you? I need to be honest with him before we move forward.”

She practically chokes me to death trying to hug me. “Does that mean we don’t have to wait until next week for the sex?”

“No. It means that when next week comes around, and we reach the date I set, I am going to split you in two. You won’t be able to walk properly for days when I’m done with you.”