He turned the twist tie into a long series of knots, wrapping the wire into a loop then forcing it through itself until it broke in half. Dropped it in the garbage, washed the dishes in the sink, and looked at his cell phone.

Checked voice-mail again to make sure she hadn’t left a message.

Cleaned out the back of his car, and threw a half-load of laundry in the washing machine. Vacuumed.

Went to clean the bathroom, and stopped in front of the mirror.

Lifted his shirt, twisted his neck to see the welts on his back.

Reached over himself to trace the abraded skin.

Looked at the bruises from her teeth on his shoulders, fading away already.

Remembered how hard it had been to lie still while she ground her teeth into his body, how she had roughed up his hair and held him afterwards.

Called her back.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

She rolled across the bed and stretched, smooth flesh moving under the white sheets, distorting the flat plane with suggestions of her curves. Dragged herself into a sitting position and looked at him, then chuckled. “Why didn’t you wake me up instead of just standing there with that confused look on your face? I told you it’d be all right.”

“Yeah, I know, but being told you can wake up a dominatrix isn’t the same as being told how you should wake up a dominatrix.”

Her shoulders shook while her tousled hair bounced around her until the laughter turned into a smile. “No, I suppose it isn’t.” She stopped and looked at him, then shook her head. “But I don’t think I’m going to tell you how to wake me up. I like that confused look on your face.”

She rolled over and buried herself under the covers, smiling into the pillow. When her breathing became soft and regular he sat down on the floor and leaned against the wall, watching her and wondering what his face looked like.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

Tonight, I’m going to hear you scream.

Her fingers danced in front of her, rapidly forming the words and letters, spelling out the phrase.

His own fingers were slower, clumsier. She’d told him she could read his lips, that he didn’t need to learn to make the signs, just read them, but he’d insisted.

How?

She jerked her head, twitched her shoulders, and headed towards the door, grabbing her coat on the way. He stopped at the hall closet to grab his own heavy jacket, and looked from her foot against the door to her smirking grin.

“Oh. That’s how.” He didn’t bother to sign it, and she just nodded back.

It was a full moon, and the snow was a wrecked silver landscape. Bright spots of glowing crystals in the middle of packed trails stained from ashes spread on the road and trampled by heavy boots. He followed her to the back of the house, through the pristine snow, his heavy shoes obliterating her steps.

She turned in the middle of their back yard, and her hand caught his hair, jerked his neck back. She stepped around him, twisting her hand, and a foot planted in the back of his knee dropped him. Instinctively he caught himself on the empty bird bath, jerked back from the cold stone, and she levered herself forward and closer, pushing him back down. She watched the gasps of air fall out of his mouth and spread across the basin, and then the long slow hiss of steamy breath as he forced his fingers to hold onto the freezing rock.

She slid his shirt up, and smiled at the goose-flesh forming on his arms. The belt dangled from her hand, and she planted her feet in the snow. Her eyes shifted away from his back, and looked to his profile. At his lips, already parted, his eyes tight shut.

The belt swung back, and she judged where it would land carefully. Looked back to his lips. Swung blind and felt the leather connect with flesh.

She finally heard him scream.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

“Hey, what’s up?”

“How long has it been since I let you have an orgasm?”

“…a month and a day.”

“That’s a pretty long time, and you’ve still got a long time to go, if that’s what I decide. On the other hand, what would you say if I gave you a chance to orgasm tonight?”

“I guess I’d ask what the catch was.”

“Heh, trying to play it safe huh? Well, remember what I told you the first time we played?”

“Yeah, you said, ‘That really fucking hurts isn’t a safe word’.”

“Heh. No, I’m glad you remembered, but I meant I told you that I wouldn’t do anything to you I hadn’t done or had done me.”

“…I remember.”

“Good. You know I’ve never been fucked in the ass?”

“…you’ve mentioned it, yeah.”

“Think about it lover. Maybe I’ll move on to something else, and your ass will be safe if you hold out just a little bit longer. Or maybe not. Maybe I’ve already picked out the strapon I want to use, and I’ll just wait and wait until you break down and beg for it. Maybe I’m so worried about how much it will hurt, I won’t mind if you don’t want to, and I’m just doing this to see you squirm. Maybe I’ll be so pissed you actually went through with it I’ll spend all night ripping you apart, making you scream a dozen times for every thrust it took you to get off in my ass.”

“I…”

“Shut up. You don’t get to answer now. Think about it all day, and let me know tonight after supper. Not a word about it until then.”

“OK.”

“Bye. Love you.”

“Love you too.”

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.

“How you feeling champ?”

“Ugh, sore…” His eyes stayed closed until her fingers wandered over his shoulder, found the bruised meat on his back, and clamped down hard.

She chuckled while his body rocked back and forth. “Do you remember what you promised me last night?”

His thoughts bounced around his brain, he remembered yelling, begging, pleading, and eventually bargaining and promising, but the specifics were washed away in a haze of ecstatic pain. “No, why… What did I promise?”

“I don’t remember either. That’s what I started the video camera for. Here.” She hopped out of bed, tossed him the notepad and pencil she kept on the nightstand to write dreams down on. “Get yourself hard and watch the tape. Make a list while I take a shower.”

He watched her walk out of the room, and then he put the tape in the player while the sound of her singing came from the shower. The sounds of his whimpers and screams came from the television while she repeated the chorus, and he laid back down on bed and started to make a list of his promises.

Copyright Jerry Jones. Unauthorized use is prohibited.