Five Days of Perpetual Night

Chapter 2

Sunday, June 5 late evening

I walk to my room, fishing my Blackberry from my pocket. I sit on the edge of the bed and remove my shoes and socks. I scan through any missed texts, e-mails or voice mails that may have been left from Ana.I close my eyes, shake my head, and sigh. There were none. Please, please, Ana, give me reason to stop this...

I arrive at the door of the playroom. I stop and pause with my hand on the door handle. I lean in and press my forehead against the door. I am conflicted. Ana doesn't love you anymore, you sick bastard! That's what she called you! Sick, Sick, Sick bastard! She took your heart away and burned it! She left you an empty husk of a man. You are nothing now! You are unlovable! You. Can. Not. Be. Loved! My insecure inner child is taunting me, coaxing and daring me to open that door. Hating myself, I open the door and step inside.

When I enter, I am instantly hit with that citrusy-scented cleaner that Gail uses to clean this room. I shudder. It immediately takes me back to the last time I was in this room. Ana left me because of this room. Subconsciously, I had been avoiding this room since Ana left. I feel a sickening deep within my core. I peer down at Ingrid who is posed in the 'submissive kneeling position' with her fingers splayed across the tops of her thighs. She is dressed only in panties. Her head is bowed. She indeed knows how to wait for her Master. Ignoring her, I walk past her and head toward the music system on the wall. I am in the mood for some retro 1980's music. I press the 'play' button and the music starts.

… I am the son

and the heir

of a shyness that is criminally vulgar

I am the son and heir

of nothing in particular...

I walk over to Ingrid and yank her head back by her braid and tie a silk scarf over her eyes. I don't want her to look at me. I don't want to see myself in her eyes.

… You shut your mouth

how can you say

I go about things the wrong way

I am human and I need to be loved

just like everybody else does...

I go to the wall containing all manner sexual instruments: whips, floggers, canes, and belts. There are so many choices but I have not decided on what scenario to do with Ingrid. I select a cane from the wall. I grasp each end, bending it a few times to gauge its flex point.

… There's a club if you'd like to go

you could meet somebody who really loves you

so you go, and you stand on your own

and you leave on your own

and you go home, and you cry

and you want to die...

With cat-like grace I saunter towards her. “You remember the safe-word, do you not?” She nods. This music is boring itself into my head and making its home. I narrow my eyes into thin slits, drinking in the words. I take the cane and slowly run a trail from the panty line, up her spine, and stop at her nape. Ingrid gasps quietly, but I don't give her any time to recover. I forcefully slam the cane down on her left buttock. She nearly fell forward, but her years as a submissive taught her how to recover herself. There is an angry welt forming. She sucks in her loud cry. My eye lids rip open and I gasp,“Ana! I am so sorry—”