Thralldom

Chapter 14

I estimate that I spend at least 30 more minutes in front of Pippi House, attempting to stop the tears from streaming down my face. It, also, would not hurt to sober up before I head any further down the road. I definitely do not need a DUI to compound my problems. 

My phone dings. I unlock it to see I have a message from Jonathan, "Hey, call me back. I want to explain." 

I cannot imagine what he would be able to say that would change what I just witnessed. He was WITH April at the Palace. They were clearly on a date. I choose to ignore his text. Clean breaks are always better, right?

Finally, I summon the grit to drive over to Ethan's condo. I reach his place just after 10:30 pm. Outside, it is dark and quiet at the beach. The only sounds you can hear are the waves dissolving on the sand, and the breeze whistling through the trees. I enjoy a peaceful moment to myself in the car before I drudge over to the elevator.

When Ethan answers the door, and I see his placatory face, the tears begin to gush out once again. He is charitably quick to gather me into his arms, compassionately kissing me on the top of my head. Ethan kicks the door closed and holds me for a few minutes before working on assessing the damage. 

"I'm sorry." I blurt out.

He answers kindly, "What are you sorry about? You didn't do anything wrong. He's the one that hurt you, remember?"

"I know." I sob into his shoulder. 

"Hey, look at me," he persuades me to make eye contact, "He's wrong. She's wrong. You deserve better."

What a cliche, I think to myself, but just start sobbing more in response. 

Ethan drags me backward toward the couch, not losing contact with me. He sits back on the couch, dragging me down on his lap, still crying on his shoulder. I am so totally lost. 

"I know what could take your mind off him." Ethan and his wayward solutions. But, actually, I could use some bondage right about now. Entering subspace would definitely help slow down my mind and take my focus off of Jonathan and April. I pull back and give Ethan a blotchy smile, and nod my head in agreement.

Ethan uses his index finger to wipe a tear from my cheek. Then, he draws my face to his and reverently kisses me on the lips. I yearn to return his fervor, but I am too broke on emotions right now. 

"Okay," I breathe out. I didn't even realize I had been holding my breath. At least the hyperventilating has subsided. 

I lift myself up off of Ethan's lap and turn toward the spare bedroom. The closet is full of extra wardrobe for the website. I decide to find something comfortable to wear. Luckily, there is a svelte black catsuit hanging in the front. I hastily remove my now oppressive workday t-shirt, jeans, bra and panties and change into the snug one piece. The great thing about a cozy garment when you are upset is that it holds you tight and makes you feel more secure. 

Once I have changed, I go over to Ethan's bathroom and wash my face. My eyes are somewhat bloodshot at this point, but I am not going for pretty. I am just trying to steady myself and stop the crying. I, also, pull my hair up into a smooth ponytail, so my hair won't fall into my face. As soon as I am satisfied with the improvement, I amble back to the living room where Ethan is waiting for me.

The ceiling grate is removed, revealing the well kept electric hoist, and Ethan has a lot of rope at the ready. I process the scene before me. A chill runs through me and I have to calm my breathing. 

Ethan only prompts me, "Safe words?"

"Yellow, Red," I respond carefully. Yellow and red are pretty standard safe words. Sometimes we will come up with more interesting ones when we have models over. Words that will make you laugh, such as unicorn or demi-god. But, basically yellow means: you are close to your limit and red means: stop and untie me immediately. A snap of the fingers will do just the same, but sometimes you can't hear the fingers snapping.