Faith woke to an empty bed in the dungeon. With only a small lamp that had been turned on and no sunlight, the place was creepy. She started up the stairs, but stopped herself. Was she allowed to leave? She wasn’t sure. And if she was, did she want to see Leo right now? Or ever again?
She showered for half an hour, scrubbing until she was raw. She wasn’t sure if she was scrubbing off what had happened in front of the mirror or the later orgasms. Both were equally horrible.
When the water ran cold, she got out and dressed, then checked the cabinets and fridge. But there was no food. Just the wine. Getting drunk might help erase the memories-at least for a while-but it wasn’t worth the sickness that would follow.
Faith took a glass from the cabinet and poured water from the tap. She huddled back in bed, propping the pillows against the headboard and wrapping the blankets around her. She waited to be hurt again.
Around noon, Leo came down. “Aren’t you hungry?”
“Yes, Master.” As soon as his feet touched the bottom step, she looked away.
Max came down with him, the golden retriever hopping on the bed to comfort her, which reminded her she needed to clean the litter box and feed the cats. Snowball had been litter trained for two weeks now, which was a blessing because the box she’d arrived in was becoming too small for both of the cats to cuddle up together. Snowball and Squish were no doubt in the bright, window-filled room, lying in patches of sunlight like they’d gone to cat heaven.
“I can restock the kitchen down here if you want, but you don’t have to stay here. Your room is still your room. Nothing’s changed.” Everything’s changed.
***
Well past dark that evening, the doorbell rang. The Christmas decorations had been taken down the preceding week, so there was nowhere for Faith to hide except a nearby parlor. A woman’s voice filled the entryway.
“Good evening, Demetri.”
“Ah, Esmeralda. Mr. Raspallo is expecting you. You know the way, of course.”
“Of course.” Her voice was smooth honey with a bite of bitter chilled wind. Her words were clipped and precise-nothing like the other women who’d come before. None of them would have dared to clip a word. For the others, each word had been a modest question, practically an ascetic’s prayer. This was the person they prayed to.
When Demetri returned to the formal dining room to polish silver, Faith slipped through the entryway and stole to the back of the house where the dark hallways led to the dungeon.
Leo had ordered her never to eavesdrop on him again, and maybe this woman wasn’t here for that. Maybe it was some kind of business thing. Leo did run a business. It was easy to forget he actually worked in that office of his and wasn’t off being mysterious and unavailable for the sake of intrigue.
She crept to her normal hiding spot, determined to pay attention so she could escape in time if things went quiet for too long.
“What’s this really about, Leo?” the woman asked.
“I’m paying you not to ask questions.”
“And I don’t need your money,” she replied, more honey than bitter for the moment. “Are you sure you aren’t a masochist? Perhaps a switch? A lot of men have some submissive tendencies. It’s nothing to be ashamed of. It doesn’t make you less of a man. Running such a successful business and practice with so many people to keep happy is stressful. It’s okay to surrender sometimes.”
“It’s not about that. Business is great. I told you, I’m not a sub, nor a masochist. I get no pleasure out of this.”
“Well, you’ve learned everything I have to teach you, so what are you punishing yourself for?”
Silence filled the space below. It stretched long enough that Faith worried she’d made a sound. She was poised to make her escape when he spoke.
“Are you going to do it or not?”
“This is the last time, Leo. If you call me again, I’ll expect a full explanation of why my services are required by a man who doesn’t get off on being whipped.”
“Make sure the ropes are tight so I can’t get out, and don’t hold back.
Don’t stop until your arm gives out.”
“That’s the last order you’ll be delivering tonight, Mr. Raspallo. Undress. We wouldn’t want to ruin your fine clothes.” The bite was back.
Faith couldn’t imagine Leo ever allowing a woman to tie him up, to render him so utterly helpless and defenseless. He was all powerful, holding her life in his hands, capable of doing anything. The contrast was too stark.
What followed was an endless number of sickening cracks as the whip made contact with Leo’s flesh. Eternity passed and then circled in on itself before he howled in pain, as if he’d held it all in, fighting through the misery until he couldn’t take it any longer. And from there, the sounds got worse-the cracks and screams mixed together into an unholy symphony. Faith hadn’t once imagined he could ever be anyone’s victim, the tormented instead of the tormentor.
She wanted to make it stop, but if she interrupted, he might punish her. The thought of the whip across her own back made her stomach turn and destroyed any small sliver of bravery before it could assert itself.
Crack. Scream. Crack. Scream. Like a horror movie. Each time he screamed, Faith prayed it would be the last time, but it kept going… until all that remained was the sobbing of a broken man.
“Have you had enough?” the woman asked, sounding weary.
“It’ll never be enough for what I did,” he choked out.
“What did you do?”
“It’s personal. It doesn’t matter.”
“I can’t do any more without doing damage you might not recover from, and I’m not that kind of sadist,” she said. “I don’t care what you say, you might not be getting sexual pleasure out of it, but there are fewer things more masochistic than what you asked for tonight.”
“I knew it wouldn’t erase it, but I had to try.”
“Do you need me to call a doctor? Someone discreet?”
“I’ll be fine.”
“So the cliche is true,” she said. “Doctors make the worst patients.”
Faith realized suddenly that she’d been crying, and belatedly tried to muffle the sound, but Leo must have heard that she’d disobeyed. And she couldn’t leave him down there like this-alone and injured and helpless.
“You can go,” he said. His voice was weak when he spoke, as if it took the last of his life force to form the words. “Demetri has your check.”
“Are you sure I can’t call someone for you?” Her voice had gone softer, all honey and concern now.
“Just go, please,” he said. “And thank you.”
“I’m sorry it didn’t fix anything.”
“There was no other way.”
“You’re Catholic. There’s confession.”
He made a disgusted sound. “A few Hail Marys and Our Fathers? A promise to be a good boy from now on? Not for this. I couldn’t even make myself say I was sorry.”
Faith didn’t bother trying to hide when she heard those high-heeled leather boots making their way up the stairs. When the dominatrix reached her, understanding flashed across her face. Then she was gone.
***
Music drifted up the stairs. That same damned record. He was torturing himself with it. Faith wanted to burn it so he couldn’t play it again. The music was vile and evil, and shouldn’t be heard by the good people of the world.
“I know you’re there.” His voice faltered as it tripped over words like some drunken sailor.
When she reached the bottom of the stairs, she gasped and the tears came harder. He sat on a piece of bondage furniture, naked, his back to her. The whip had cut him into strips of so much meat. Ribbons. Blood. She was surprised he’d kept consciousness.
“Why would you do this?”
“You know why.”
Faith got him some water so she could be useful instead of just staring as if he were a traffic accident. Leo drank it down, his hands shaking like an old man’s. That was when she noticed his wrists. The ropes had cut into him when he’d struggled, rubbing them raw. When the water was gone, he handed the glass back to her.
“More?”
He shook his head and stared at the ground for a long time. “I broke your trust.”
Compared to the scene before her, last night was barely anything now.
A small blip. A misunderstanding. Like a date that hadn’t gone well. “What can I do? This is bad. You need a doctor.”
“No doctors!” his voice cracked. She refilled his glass with more water.
“What can I do?” She wouldn’t leave him in this state.
“I keep a backup medical bag down here, but I put it back in the den earlier… next to the bookcase.”
It didn’t take long to find the bag. She peeked inside to make sure she had the right one and rushed back to the dungeon. Faith had just reached the door again when she heard him cry out.
He’d managed to make it into the bathroom to take a shower, dragging a trail of blood over the concrete and carpet. The trail ended at the base of the tub. Faith sat on the closed toilet seat, staring at the floor, trying to hold herself together until the water stopped.
When he shut it off, he said, “Take several towels, and lay a couple over the table.”
It was a leather table with metal rings around the sides to loop ropes or cuffs through. The ropes still hung from the rings.
“Yes, Master.”
She was surprised to hear herself say it. All she wanted to do was please him and ease his suffering. This was more than a gesture, more than an apology. To do something like this… his own mental anguish had to match hers. Regret and agony balanced the scale between them even if he couldn’t believe in such miracles.
“Master?” she said at the door.
“Yes, Faith?”
“If I’d begged you to stop, would you have?”
“Yes.”
He could be lying, but with the shattered way the word came out, she knew he wasn’t.
“It’s not your fault. I knew. I should have stopped.”
She went to the other room and laid out the towels as he’d asked. He came in a few moments later, still dripping, naked and beautiful-at least from the front. The marble perfection of his chest hid the macabre truth of his back.
He lay on his stomach and took several deep breaths.
Faith became aware of the music again. The music that frightened her the night before was haunting and sad and lonely now.