Saving Sunni (8 page)

I pulled my attention back to the scene. Sir was running his hands down sage’s back with long, firm scratches that were hard enough to leave red marks. She reacted to these with deep sighs, her back moving unconsciously under his fingers to optimize the angles. Occasionally he reached between her legs and stroked her clit a little, causing her to squirm and gasp. A couple of times he brought her very close to climaxing—we could both hear her breathing quicken and I could see her legs trembling—but stopped before she could come.

He bent over and picked up a soft flogger from the floor next to the table. I sighed involuntarily. It was my favorite one to start off with. I closed my eyes and listened to the whish and thump of the falls landing on her back. I shared each sensation, knowing exactly how each stroke would feel. At first it would be a soft caressing pressure, gradually getting more and more insistent. With the increasing sensations, the endorphins would begin to flow, the jolt of the thump going through the entire body like the tension was being shaken out of each organ.

When he changed to a bigger, heavier flogger, I relaxed even more, closing my eyes to listen to the thumping, feeling the reverberations through my own body. I had helped Sir while he was flogging sage before, but I had never experienced it quite like this. I knew this was meant as a punishment, but I was actually enjoying it. I hoped a little guiltily that Sir wouldn’t notice, or mind if he did.

I wasn’t sure how much time had gone by when Sir set aside the four or five floggers that he had been using and focused on sage’s excitement again. I personally never came in subspace, although I knew sage did. I watched from my cushion as Sir stroked her, then alternately slapped and thumped her back with his fists, which she liked, before pushing two fingers deep inside her pussy.

It took her a little while, and I nearly came myself as I watched. But she finally gave a cry and her legs shook and twitched. Sir watched her with a satisfied smile, his fingers deep inside her, until she finished climaxing and relaxed completely. She laid there for a few seconds, still panting a little, then turned her face toward him and whispered, “Thank you, Sir.”

He smiled as he untied her and helped her turn over onto her back. Then he bent down to give her a deep kiss and picked her up in one fluid movement. She made a small noise of protest, but he ignored it and carried her into the bedroom. After a few minutes he came back out again and put the massage table away.

“Take off your clothes, get us both drinks, and come sit on the floor,” he said to me, sounding a little tired. I jumped up to follow his instructions and came back to settle in front of him. He slowly caressed my hair and my shoulders as he surfed through the channels looking for something to watch. I leaned my head against his knee, hoping this meant he wasn’t angry anymore.

He didn’t seem to be, but we didn’t talk much as we watched the news. At precisely eleven, he shut off the television and handed me his glass to take to the kitchen. When I came back, he told me to climb up on the couch facing the back. There was the sound of a zipper, and the rustling of clothes, and I felt the cushions sink as he leaned in behind me. He grabbed my hips and entered me from behind.

It was rough and sudden, but I never minded that. He pulled me back into himself as he thrust his cock deep inside me. I could feel it pushing all the way in, which was painful but not unpleasant. I gasped and braced a hand against the wall. He didn’t say anything, but scratched hard down the center of my back, making me arch in pleasure. Suddenly he grabbed a handful of hair and pushed even harder, one hand guiding my hips to match his thrusts, the other pulling my head just hard enough to be alarming. I came after only a few minutes, pushing against the wall and gasping as he drove himself into me. As I finished, I felt him stop and strain as his penis pulsated with its own orgasm. He remained perfectly still while it lasted, his hands clutching my hip and my hair, and then he sighed deeply and pulled out, helping me off the couch and wrapping his long arms around me from behind.

“I love you, sunni,” he growled into my ear, and my skin tingled in response.

I rested my head against his and whispered, “I love you too, Sir.”

“Let’s go to bed.” He turned me so that I faced the bedroom and gave me a little push, going back to make sure the lights were off and the door locked before he followed.

I was half asleep when he climbed into bed, but I cuddled up next to him, enjoying the heat of his body and the feel of his arm as it curled around my neck. I could never stay angry at him for long. All he ever had to do was to encase me in his arms and all of my complaints and frustrations melted away. I tried halfheartedly to think about the problems from earlier, but they refused to come back to me, and I drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 7

Geri wasn’t happy when I called and told her I needed to take a few days off. I could almost hear her thinking in exasperation, “Masters!” but she just said, “Do what you have to do, sweetie. Let me know when you’re ready to come back.”

“I will,” I promised. “I’m really sorry, Geri. I’m sure this will all be taken care of soon.”

I started the tedious work of figuring out how to file for divorce and get a restraining order. The divorce paperwork was easy once I figured out the right place to go. The restraining order was a little different. The paperwork for that was much more detailed, asking for the reason that I felt I was in “imminent danger.” I didn’t really want to write “He is trying to convert me,” but I also couldn’t honestly say that he had threatened me with any violence.

Sir and sage sat with me that night trying to puzzle out what to put down. sage suggested, “He has a history of violence,” and Sir added, “And has been contacting me persistently at my place of business after being requested to desist.” That sounded very legal to me, so I used it, although I wasn’t absolutely convinced that his visits could really be considered “persistent.” But both Sir and sage
were
very persistent, so I wrote it.

The few days that it took me to get the paperwork done and ready to be filed made me very edgy. I wanted to get back to the store, but I knew Sir was nervous about me being there. I tried arguing that Randy already knew where I lived, and wouldn’t it be better for me to be in a public place if he showed up than home alone?

Sir wasn’t having that, and it just made him angry when I suggested it. It seemed to me that he was overreacting to the whole thing, but I bit my tongue and let it go. Part of me even found his overprotectiveness a little sexy. At least now I would have time to start organizing my puppy club. I had written to Toby, the organizer of the puppy party I had gone to, and he had written back with some suggestions for getting started. I sent emails to the puppies whose contact information Toby had provided, and suggested a meeting at our house to plan some play dates.

When Sir came home I was nearly bouncing in my chair, wanting to tell him what I had been doing. He looked at me strangely while I told him about hunting down the puppies in Denver, but didn’t say anything until I described my efforts to organize a meeting.

“And you did all this without asking my permission?” he asked gravely. I felt my mouth go dry.

“I…yes, Sir,” I said slowly, “but you said I could start organizing a group.”

“Yes, I did,” he agreed. “But I would prefer that you check with me before offering my house as a meeting place.”

I stared at him, frustration making me go cold all over. I didn’t know what to say.

“Sir,” I started, but he slapped his hand down on the arm of his chair and stood up. He looked very intimidating, and I wondered for a minute if he was going to slap me.

“This is my house, and I have told you that I prefer to be asked before you make plans,” he said, his voice quiet but intense. We stared at each other for a few seconds.

“Yes, Sir,” I finally said, careful not to let anger into my voice. “I’ll remember that.”

“Please do.” He stomped off into the kitchen, and I was left sitting on the floor, staring after him, wondering why he was so angry. It didn’t make any sense. The stress could have been making him grouchy, but it still didn’t seem fair to take it out on me.

I heard sage coming in then and waited while she knelt down in front of Sir to do the greeting ritual. Sir’s voice still sounded a little abrupt, and I knew she was wondering what was wrong with him.

sage set her books down on the coffee table and mouthed, “Is he in a bad mood?”

I nodded glumly, and she sighed, sitting down in the recliner. Since it was my night to cook, I got up and headed into the kitchen, happy to see that Sir was coming back into the living room to wait.

His bad mood didn’t last too long, though—they usually didn’t—and during dinner he started asking questions about the puppy club. We talked about the different kinds of events we could have at a puppy field day, and everyone was much more cheerful when we took our coffee into the living room to watch television. Sir told us to put on our robes, and the rest of the evening passed pleasantly.

When I took the restraining order paperwork in the next day, I was granted a hearing immediately. The whole process was much easier than I had expected. Sir had insisted on taking the day off to drive me. At first that made me feel a little strange, but it was actually quite nice knowing he was waiting outside while I went through the system. Sir and sage had helped me plan exactly what to say so that I didn’t feel like an idiot. I was taken into a small room where one judge was waiting. She looked fairly friendly, I decided, and we chatted for a minute before getting down to the details of the case. When she asked me why I felt I was in imminent danger, I took a deep breath and concentrated on saying it the way we had decided it sounded best.

“Well, he was fairly violent while we were married,” I began, “and now he seems determined that we should get back together, even though I’ve told him I’m not interested. He has persisted in showing up at my place of work and talking about his religious convictions and his belief that God wants us to be together. My boss is very unhappy about it. We’ve both asked him not to come back, but he doesn’t listen.”

I wasn’t sure that was exactly how we’d rehearsed it, but once I spoke, the words just started spilling out. I wasn’t even sure what I’d said, but I hoped it was good enough. The judge nodded and made notes, not saying anything for a minute. I watched her until I started feeling like I was staring, then I transferred my gaze to the edge of the desk in front of me.

She made a “hmm” noise, and I looked back up at her.

“How violent was he when you were married?” she asked, still looking down at the notes she was writing.

“He could be pretty aggressive when he’d had a couple of drinks,” I continued, feeling much more comfortable. “If he was in a bad mood he might start yelling about something stupid, and sometimes he did hit me.”

I realized I should probably try to look helpless and pathetic at this point, so I concentrated on not looking as relieved as I felt with this topic. It was much easier to talk about Randy being violent in the past than it was about the possibility of him being violent in the future.

She continued writing for a minute, then looked up. “And you don’t have his address?”

I shook my head. “I didn’t even know he knew where I was living. I haven’t been in contact with him for about ten years. I guess he got my address through my mother.”

She looked a little surprised, but nodded. “I’m going to grant you an order for the next fourteen days. You will make an appointment for that time to review it and apply for the permanent order, if necessary. If Mr. Chambers tries to contact you, call the police, tell them where he is, and let them know he needs to be served with the order. Once he has been served, he can be arrested for harassing you or coming into your residence or place of business. Do you understand?”

I nodded, surprised at how easy it had been. I was sure that within a few days Randy would have gotten tired of either his new religious fervor or his attempts to convert me and would go away. I had never known him to stick to anything for very long.

When we got home, Sir said, “By the way, your jujitsu classes start tonight at seven. You will need to have dinner ready early.” I wondered how angry sage was going to be. I knew she hadn’t been particularly athletic in school, but nobody cared about that kind of thing at our age. Nobody was going to expect her to be able to do cartwheels or put her fist through a brick. We were just learning self-defense. It wasn’t like she would have to enter competitions. But she seemed to have the idea that we were conspiring to humiliate her or something.

The school was in a small building in a residential neighborhood. While Sir took care of the paperwork, sage and I wandered to the door of the workout room and watched in amazement as probably fifty people practiced routines, stretched, or stood around chatting. I wasn’t sure how the room was going to hold everyone once the class started. When I turned to say that to sage, she had her nose wrinkled up and looked a little pale.

“It stinks in there,” she complained.

I had to agree. There was no mistaking the room as anything but a place where a lot of people went to sweat on a regular basis. I hoped it wouldn’t be too hard to get used to the smell if we were going to have to spend much time here.

Sir came up and handed us both a white uniform and white belt. “Master Sandi will show you how to tie the belts when you get these on. It’s called a ‘gi,’ and I’ve bought them for you, so pack them in your gym bag when class is over. I’ll be back at nine.” He glanced at the clock on the wall. Both my gaze and sage’s followed his.