Signed (23)

Only a few lights were on when he pulled the car into the curved drive at the front of the house. Good, maybe she’d gone to bed early. She still needed rest–it was the best curative for her recovery. The ordeal had put an enormous strain on her. He hoped that in the not too far distant future they could work back towards where they had been, but so much had changed for her. He wasn’t going to rush her. He wasn’t going to risk a setback. Yet inside he still had those needs, to sexually tease her, hurt her. It was hard to justify them, considering what her ex had done. She’d been beaten, bruised, shocked at the brutality of the guy she had married. He had done all he could to ease her recovery.  The burial of her ex had been attended to, and the sale of the house. He’d made certain to personally deal with the moving of her personal items here, and the last of the settlement of the estate. It had been a busy few weeks, as she healed and he dealt with the remains of her life with the asshat. How he wished he’d been able to bash that idiot. Use his training and break some ribs, blacken his eyes,  give that piece of shit double what he’d given Anna. And the dumb fuck had managed to throw himself off the cliff instead.  How he  wished to get those last five minutes back. Instead, he done what he did best, and handled the details, setting Anna’s world to rights. He didn’t touch her except to hold her during her nightmares, to bring her  comfort. He didn’t hint at what he wanted for a future. First she had to heal from her past. And he had stuffed those dark needs deep down inside of himself.

They needed to talk about the future. Grabbing the bag of Chinese take-out, he slid out of the car and headed up the steps. In a few days Reggie would be leaving, heading back to his place, picking up his life again. It had been great having him here. He’d been worried about leaving her alone at the house on those occasions he’d needed to go into the city and deal with the mess her idiot ex had left behind. Reg had stayed, watching over her as he’d done for this last month.

He let himself in, tossing his keys in the basket on the foyer table. A yellow sticky note was on the table.  The arrow pointed down the hallway. What was that about? Picking up the bright paper, he moved off down the hallway.

****************************************************************

“You have to help me.”

Her voice was urgent, her hand on his sleeve holding him in place. He could have easily shrugged her off, but her eyes, dammit, they implored.

“What’s between you…”

“That’s just it. There is nothing between us. He treats me like I’m made of spun glass. I don’t need that. I didn’t need it before,and I don’t need it now. I know He gave me ….space, I guess, to work things out in my head. But now? I don’t know Reggie. I don’t know if…that is space or just His way of letting me down easy…?”

Thinking of the two blue boxes that the Captain had shown him the day of her abduction, Reg interrupted her.

“He cares. He doesn’t want you to go.”

“I think I know that…but Reg? He won’t touch me. He hasn’t touched me in weeks.”

She tugged at the tee shirt she now wore.

“No more naked sex slave. And …” she paused, dropping her eyes and still feeling that embarrassed flush cover her cheeks, “and … I liked it. I didn’t at first–it was my way out– to get away, to get back at, that bastard I married. I was so mad at first. But…later? I liked it. Oh, I know–I can’t live forever as a naked slave, real life isn’t like that…but…it could still be a part of things…if He still wants me.”

Reg rolled his eyes to the ceiling. How had he gotten embroiled in this? The ubiquitous man in the middle, he’d been involved in both sides of this ‘wondering’ conversation. From the Captain at night after she was in bed, sometimes over a glass of whiskey, or a beer on the porch. And then from her during the day as she protested the clothing He made her wear, the naps He made her take–it was driving him fucking nuts!

“I don’t know how I can help. You two need to talk to one another. Work it out.”

“He won’t talk. He cuddles me and tells me to sleep. Sleep. And dammit,”  she stamped her foot, her fingers clenching on Reggie’s arm “…then to sleep some more! I’m tired of sleeping.”

She gazed up at him, her face yearning, willing him to understand her case.

“And then…I had an epiphany! Please say you’ll help. Please?”

She turned her baby blues full wattage upon him. What else could he do but agree. Fucking woman! She was too damned cute for his own good. Her brilliant smile made him sigh. He needed to go home. Soon.  His smile grew as she laid out her idea. He had to hand it to her…she was a clever little slut. Yeah, he wanted to go home…but first, he kind of wanted to see how this would play out.

*************************************************************

He followed the note down the hallway to his study. An arrow on the doorway pointed him inside. Another note pointed him to his desk. A shotglass held two fingers of his favorite scotch. Another note told him to “Place Tie Here”. Loosening his necktie, he took a sip from the glass and smiled. She was quite the gal. He wondered what she was up to.

The next arrow was on the tray where he customarily placed his empty glass. It had an arrow pointing back to the door, with “go to kitchen” written inside the shaft of the arrow. Willing to play along, he moved through the house. In the kitchen he was directed to leave his jacket on the back of the chair, his shoes under it. His slippers were there, and as he slid his feet into them he found yet another note, this one directing him to the second hallway. Moving along he found himself in front of the dungeon door. The arrow here pointed down. For the first time, He frowned. What was she thinking?

He opened the door and moved down the stairs.

*****************************************************************

Her heart raced. She heard the soft fall of his footsteps on the stairs. Reg had thoughtfully left the door to the playroom ajar. Though she couldn’t hear his car or him moving through the upstairs, Reg had told her that Sir was home.

They were posed, ready.

About vanillamom

For over 8 years--(EIGHT?!) nilla and M have been a D/s couple. I'm the "small s" side of that designation, as he often reminds me. I'm silly and prone to giggling at inopportune times. He's a wicked Sadist, who feeds me my drug of choice--pain. My brain is always spinning dirty and dark little fantasies, which I sometimes share with the world. Welcome to the nilla-verse. It's wet and slippery here...with a dragon or two lurking.
This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

13 Responses to Signed (23)

  1. Wordwytch says:

    Woohoo! A treasure hunt! Looking forward to the next installment!

  2. Hil says:

    Liking it a lot, even though you leave us hanging again cruel woman 🙂

  3. SouthernSir says:

    This is delightful, can’t wait to see the rest.

  4. sofia says:

    Oooh, almost there, almost there – can’t wait!! More, more, more, please!

    sofia

  5. Kayla Lords says:

    Ahhhh! Left hanging!!

  6. abby says:

    Ohhh…i knew you would not disappoint us with the ending….except for the part where you left us hanging. It is morning and my imagination is going wild…
    hugs abby

    • vanillamom says:

      🙂 I guess I like when you all hang…:) Truly? Sometimes when I write I just run out of words…and the story ends itself (for the time being, anyway. )

      So glad you enjoy my little tales…

      nilla

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s