#thisrt

I ate and slept and worked and did all my usual stuff. Friday was approaching and I was excited. We hadn’t talked about it, but we were coming up on a full year of seeing each other. Freddy wasn’t a romantic guy so it isn’t like I was expecting much. My first instinct was to think he wouldn’t do anything but when I thought more critically about it I knew that there was no way he’d pass up such an opportunity to do something. What was that something? I had no idea. He might not look like the type to care about an anniversary and typically you might have been right in such an assumption, but he would take any chance to have an advantage, any opening to mess with me.

I was giddy that Friday. I hadn’t seen him that week but that was normal, some weeks I would only see him on Friday and that was fine. I went to bed that night ready to see him.

But, as you might have guessed...

I didn’t.

We had our usual standing date on Fridays. Those dates were rarely missed, and if they were going to be, he would tell me about it and let me know. I woke up that Saturday morning confused, but thought he must have had a good reason, I was sure I would see him that night and he would more than make up for it.

I didn’t see him that Saturday night. I brushed it off. Rather easily. Why wouldn’t I?

I mean, sometimes we had breaks as long as two weeks. Who cares about such a silly arbitrary thing as us seeing each other for a year anyway?

I was fine. Really. The next Friday when I didn’t see him again, I was a little concerned, but only a little bit.

I just kept living life normally. I hoped a bit more every night that I would see him. Every morning that hope dashed when I didn’t.

After two weeks I was really concerned. After three weeks I was worried. By a month I was scared.

A full calendar month without seeing him? Ever since we started this there hadn’t been a stretch this long without seeing each other. Another concerning thing; he hadn’t killed Joseph. At first I was happy about that, I thought I got through to him and he listened and I made a promise to myself the next time I saw him to thank him profusely I had a little plan that I would tell him.

“I know you didn’t have to listen, I know you could have killed him, I know you wanted to kill him but the fact you didn’t means a lot to me. Thank you.”

It would have fallen from my mouth honeyed and warm and in between kisses and my finger tips would be stroking my admiration onto his rough skin. I am sure he would have scoffed and rolled his eyes and said that I had nothing to do with his decision and I would have given a dutiful nod.

I would have replied; “Oh, I believe you,” in a teasing, mocking tone, that would mirror his own that he typically used on me. Obviously I didn’t get the chance to do that. The fact that he hadn’t killed Joseph and that he hadn’t seen me made me so nervous. Did I push too far?

Push him away?

I pushed those worries down hard. I wouldn’t freak out or spiral. I would just keep living until I saw him again.

So I did. I lived for a little bit over two years without him. There is obviously a lot more to tell you about those two years and I will tell you, but let’s pull up to the present.

I was sitting at my desk, looking out the window at the cityscape, it was night, late, I always liked the city lights, my gaze pulled down slightly from the horizon and to my reflection, I felt tired, I looked tired too. I finished the last sip of my drink and spun around in my office chair, I looked at the laptop screen in front of me. I read the comment for what must have been the fiftieth time.

‘EL_Blue_Ash_1392: I love this story! When are we going to see more? No rush or anything but I can’t wait!’

I sighed and started the reply for the twentieth time, trying to thank her and give some kind of satisfying response and failing again. She was nice, she had commented on every chapter I had posted and I replied to all of them. Her and I chatted online occasionally, she was so cool, but this once I just couldn’t respond to her, I felt bad that I had no new chapter to write about. It had been about a month since I posted a new chapter, people were wondering where the update was. The problem was, I had covered everything we did, all of the escapades I could remember from that year we shared or rather all the ones I felt up for sharing. I looked at the time.

Eleven o’clock.

I decided to go to bed already, I could stay up later but I was too tired. I closed the laptop and I walked to the kitchen, dumped the ice into the sink and set the glass down. I ran my fingers through my hair and walked to the bathroom, I did my evening routine. I brushed my hair out, and my teeth, did my skin care and walked into my bedroom. I got changed for bed, a simple silky nighty, lace edges, nothing fancy, I pulled back the bedsheets and sat on the bed.

I paused.

I looked at the nightstand next to my bed, then I sighed heavily as I opened the drawer to the nightstand and reached inside. I pulled out the box and opened it, pulled out the cold, familiar, silver object. My thumb stroked over the charm of that necklace, a wistful smile on my face, memories that were bittersweet lingering at the forefront of my mind.

I felt like an idiot.

I was still holding out hope after all this time. I didn’t wear it everyday like I used to. I would only put it on before bed on Friday nights, some small but loud part of me still hoping that he would see me again, reviving that tradition of our standing date night. I wanted to be wearing it if I saw him again. I didn’t fight it tonight yet I still thought that I couldn’t keep doing this forever.

Maybe tonight would be the last night. That is what I told myself. I had told myself that for the past few months.

I unclasped it and put it on, I laid back in bed, the lamp turned off, blankets pulled up. One hand under my pillow, I was on my side, my other hand closing around the charm of that necklace, I held it a bit too tight, metal biting into my palm slightly. My eyes fell closed and soon I was asleep.

An average dream.

I could take it or leave it now. Before dreaming was exciting and wonderful and the best part of my life before but now my life outside of dreams was so much better. Sleep was necessary and dreaming went hand and hand with it so I managed. I had some nice dreams but nothing like before.

Then.

A strange feeling. Something I hadn’t felt in ages. Like, literal ages.

See when you share a dream with him, it feels so real, so close to reality it might as well have been. Dreaming without him felt odd; colors seemed dull, no taste, no smell, you could touch things but not feel them. Couldn’t think as clearly, mind felt clouded, like you didn’t have full use of all of your faculties. And right now I felt this pulling in my chest. I looked down.

Deep red greeted me.

I curled my toes and flexed them against the soft carpet, brows furrowed in confusion, I was supposed to be outside, why was there carpet? I looked up and I wasn’t outside anymore. More deep shades of red. My eyes widened as I inhaled and my heart almost stopped, it smelled like warm vanilla and pink grapefruit candles and whisky and leather and campfire smoke. It smelled more like home than my own apartment, it was all of my favorite smells. It smelled like I would want my dream home to, comfort and bliss filling my nose. I rubbed my eyes hard and when I pulled my hands away I glanced around, turning, the familiar room I had spent so many nights was all around me. My eyes flicked over the bed in the centre of the sunken living room, the few short levels there leading down to it, the big L couch, the glass dining table and the chairs, and the kitchen and the hallway that lead down to that bathroom.

My hand in my hair, my other hand on my hip, I sighed heavily, my eyes screwing shut.

Why was I back here?

I hadn’t been back here in so damn long, and why did it feel like this? It felt so scarily familiar, felt so close to what it was like with him, but it couldn’t be true. It was weird enough being back here, I had done so much to ensure that wouldn’t happen. Being back here hurt too much. I took a few deep breaths, trying to steady myself. I was about to try and leave, try and will myself out of here when I heard it from behind me.

That deep voice, the one that haunted me all this time, if my heart could have broken out of my ribcage it would have.

“You grew your hair out.”

After all this time of course that is the first thing he would say to me. It was so fitting for him I almost laughed. My eyes shot open, hand still in my hair I turned around quickly and there he was. Looking the same as before, as if he had not aged a single day, that usual stance, non gloved hand in his pocket, he was looking at me, smiling, not smirking or looking smug but an expression of what could only be described as pure affection.

He was across the room from me. I had my back to the kitchen, he had his back to the big L couch and the sunken living room, the bed, that wonderfully awful bed was occupying the large space between us. I tried not to get my hopes up. This could be another false start.

Another hoax, another attempt by my fucked up brain trying to recreate what was lost so long ago. But the room, the smell, the sensation, I flexed my toes again and reminded myself of the feel of the carpet. I swallowed, my throat felt dry.

You see, dear reader, around almost three months into him being gone I had a dream. A horrible, delicious and misleading dream. I thought he was back, I cried and apologized and rode him on the bed and I was so enthralled, so unbelievably happy to see him that I didn’t notice. I didn’t notice that there was no smell, that I couldn’t feel the sheets or that I didn’t feel his skin the same way under my bare thighs, that the pain of his blades didn’t last, the blood didn’t feel warm or slick but again I was distracted and overjoyed by the simple notion he was back.

It wasn’t until I woke up and there was no cum leaking out of me, no cuts, no blood, not even a single fingerprint sized bruise, long expanses of creamy white flesh unblemished and unmarred that I realized it wasn’t really him.

I cried that morning and I stayed in bed all day. I got really used to crying these past two years.

A few more false starts like that happened, and I kept fucking falling for it like an idiot, I think I just wanted it to be true so badly. At one point I realized what it was and still tried to lean into it but it didn’t feel the same. I came to realize it wasn’t him, it was just my mind desperately trying to recreate what was lost, trying to fill the void. It was not even close, not even half, not even a fucking third as good as it felt when it was really him. It was even worse than not seeing him at all, it was like being so close to scratching an itch but being an inch shy of reaching it. I would wake up frustrated, knowing that if it was actually him it would have felt so much better, been so much better, I would wake up unmarked and would get angry, and sad and cycle through those two and many more emotions.

Another big frustration was the fact that there was nothing new about our encounters. It was like they were a rerun on tv. He wouldn’t say anything new, just things I had heard before, it was like going through the motions and it was terribly frustrating, trying to have the usual back and forth, trying to talk to him and getting nothing, and the worst thing of all. He would never say my name. I don’t know why but he would only ever call me those pet names.

Slut. Whore. Pet. Princess. Doll. And more.

Just never my name. I remember the last time I saw the false version of him so well. I was sprawled below him on the bed, his gloved hand was on my throat, my hands over it, I was rocking with him as he fucked me, it was barely anything like it should have been. The pleasure was so weak it might as well have been non existent, he had barely spoken to me, the glove provided no pain, air flow was normal despite him choking me. All reminders that it wasn't really him, that this wasn't as it should be. It was too much. I was looking up at him through my tears, crying, sobbing, a full body cry, legs around his hips as I hiccuped and begged him.

“Puh-please!...Fred-dy, tal-talk to me! Say it! I ne-need to-ah-to-hear it. Please!”

A heavy swallow, a deep shuddering breath, my eyes shut tight, more hot tears down my raw cheeks as I begged him futility to say my name, just once.

He didn’t. 

I made a vow that next morning. I made a vow to never see him again. I would take measures so hopefully the next time he was in my dream it would be real. I learned to lucid dream. I took control of my dreams and purposefully stayed out of the playroom, seemed like the only place his false version would show up thankfully. Dreaming just became like it was before him. Dreaming was fine, it wasn’t heart breaking, or frustrating or upsetting, it didn’t make me cry. Normal dreams did feel lonely, but I could live with loneliness.

So dear reader, to be here, back in the playroom, the sounds, the smell, the feel, all so real, and him…

Here. Across from me.

Saying something new, something I had never heard from him before. I was in disbelief. I was cautious and scared and worried that this would end the same way as those other nights. That I would wake up and I would cry and my heart would break for the hundredth time with the knowledge that he wasn’t here, that he wasn’t back and that my last wall of defense, taking power and control over my dreams had fallen and I knew I would be too weak to do anything. Too weak to do anything but fall back into the self-destructive habit of these false visits, this false him and be ruined in the process.

But it was still the dead of night, I was still asleep, for all I knew at this moment it was him and it was real and I had to hold onto the hope for now.

I was still here. He was still here.

My head had been running wild with thoughts. My hand in my hair fell down, my fists clenched at my sides and I took a deep breath before speaking to him for the first time that night, hopeful yet with a considerable amount of trepidation behind it. “Is it really you?”

He smiled a little wider and he said with a gesture of his glove. “It is.”

I swallowed hard again before replying. “How can I be sure?”

He held his gloved hand out. “Come see for yourself.” I paused, fists un-clenched as I considered his offer.

I was far too curious not to and I strode over to him. My steps were purposeful, sure, I was trying not to seem too over eager as I headed straight for him. God the carpet felt good, so soft and familiar, memories of it being under the soles of my feet and my knees and my bare back, me arching for him, meeting him in the middle, panting and moaning flitting through my mind. I reached the first step, and took it, my eyes were locked with his this whole time, another step, the last one, feet on the bed, I stepped through blankets and sheets and plush pillows, and fucking hell I forgot how comfortable this bed felt. I was tempted to fall to my knees and beckon him to come the rest of the way to me but instead I pressed on and took the three steps to be back on the same level he was. A few more steps, my hand reached out, and then my fingertips met his glove and I almost wanted to cry at the feeling.

Cold steel, just like I remembered. My gaze pulled from his, I looked at the glove closer, my other hand coming up to meet the first, I ran my fingers over it, leather and metal and my teeth tugged on my bottom lip as I indulged in just feeling it. I inspected it, trying to commit details to memory, it had never been this real in these two years. I got bolder, I wanted more proof. My hands didn’t stop there, one stayed on his glove, fingers laced carefully in his as my other hand roamed down his forearm and felt the material of his sweater, soft yet rough.

My fingers dragged up further, stopping to grip his shoulder, it felt real, corporeal and my hand continued up his neck and to his face and I cupped his cheek, my eyes finally meeting his again. I realized in that moment how much harder I was breathing and how hard my heart was pounding. He was looking at me this whole time, letting me touch him, letting me get my fill, letting me come to my own conclusions and I could see in his eyes that he was hoping that I would realize it to be true. I wanted to believe. My hand stayed on his face and my other hand unlaced from his glove, gripping his wrist. I brought it to my throat and I made him grip my exposed neck. My eyes rolled back and a soft moan of his name crossed my lips at how good and right it felt, how much it felt like coming home after a long day. He chuckled slightly and I licked my lips, eyes peeking back at him, he gripped a hair harder and I realized myself, where I was and what I was doing and I pulled away.

He let me go.

My hand on my throat now, I sucked down a deep breath, not because he had been choking me, not even close, but just because it felt needed.

I had spent the better part of two years fantasizing about all the things I'd do with him and yet with him here now I felt at a loss.

He took the lead before I could. "Can I ask you a question?" An idea. A stupid idea, but I couldn't help it, I let myself smile wide. "You can ask, doesn't mean I'll answer."

His own smile widening, he laughed first, and I followed. We both laughed harder than we should have, God it was just a stupid call back to something he said to me one of the first times we were in the playroom together yet I was dying like it was the first joke I'd ever heard. It broke the ice. I had my hands on my knees, still shaking a little as the laughter started to die he said. "Nice call back."

I took another deep breath and stood up straight again, one hand pushing my hair back as I replied. "Thanks."

Another beat. He speaks, it sounds true and genuine. "I missed you."

"I really fucking missed you too." I said it without thinking, I meant it with every fiber of my being. I just didn't want to say it to him, yet anyway. I looked him over and I took a step to be closer to him as I said. "You can ask me a question if you do me a favor first."

"Anything." He said it quickly and easily and it made me smile, my fingers tangled together in front of my stomach that felt so sick and filled with emotion. This was it. The real test. I was scared but I had to.

I took a deep breath again and looked up into his eyes as I asked that burning question: "Say my name?"

"Amber." What? "Again." It surprised me when I said it and before I can question it he indulges me readily.

"Amber."

It has been far too long since I've heard my name said like that. I loved it, it was the best thing I've heard in ages, I took another step forward, I asked quieter, eyes looking into his. "Again?”

He took a step towards me, my fingers laced so tightly my knuckles were white and he chuckled slightly before saying it just right. "Amber."

Jesus fucking Christ the way he said it, he stretched the M lingering on it and rolled the R in the way only he knows how. My knees are a little weaker and I say so softly, almost pressed to him now. "It really is you, Freddy."

"It really is, Amber." I wished he'd never stop saying my name, I felt like a narcissist because I was coming up empty trying to think of a better sound than my name on his tongue. I unlaced my fingers and I reached out, feeling him again, the fabric of his sweater under my touch felt foreign after so long but so welcome. Hands gripped forearms, I pulled him closer as I pulled myself up at the same time, I was so much shorter than him, his hands found my waist and I almost shivered from feeling the cold metal through thin fabric. I couldn't stop for anything now, I needed more proof, I needed to be sure, I was almost convinced but not quite there. It had been so long, too long, I had to, I leaned forward that last bit needed and I kissed him.

It was true. This was real, he was real, there could be no other explanation, no confusion, there is no way that this was anything, anyone, but him. My hands came up to the back of his neck, I pulled him closer still, his hands on me felt so impossibly good, so strong, he lifted me up, I was pulled nearer as the kiss was deepening. Yes I had missed this far too much and it felt so good, a weight was lifted off of me when he lifted me up. My legs came up, knees hugging against his hips, his hands slid down to rest under my thighs helping hold me up, I was feeling incredible, it had been too long since I had kissed anyone, let alone made out like this, urgent and heated. I was in heaven, here with him-

Him.

This really was Freddy.

Freddy Krueger, the dream demon, killer, murderer and an amazing kisser and the best sex of my life, the literal man of my dreams and...

And the same man who abandoned me for the past two years.

Now that I knew it was really him, the heat inside of me was still there but it changed, arousal became anger. I broke the kiss as I punched him on the shoulder, hard and I spat. "Where the fuck were you?!"

“Ow! Amber!-” I knew it was just because I surprised him, I knew I wasn’t really hurting him, I wished I was as my second hand joined the first, more hits landing and repeated what I said, punches punctuating my words. "Where! The! Fuck! Were! You?!"

"Ah! Fuc- Amber! Wai-" I didn't listen, another hard punch landing before he put me down, I didn't stop. "Two years?! Two fucking years, Fred?! Where were you?!"

Both hands pounded on his chest, his hands on my shoulders. “Amber please! Fuckin' ease up-" he yelled.

“NO!” The hits got weaker, anger was too much, I hated when I got this angry, I couldn't handle it, when I got this angry and frustrated I would be overwhelmed to the point of crying. Tears in my eyes, my hands balled into fists finally resting on his chest. My head tipped forward, forehead rested on his chest, I tried to not cry.

I failed.

Tears slipped down my cheeks, and I asked quietly, one more time. "Where were you?"

His arms wrapped around me and I let him do it. Fuck it felt nice to be held by him. My face buried in his sweater, it was quiet for a moment before he spoke. "I deserved that." I huffed out a laugh and pulled back, I wiped my nose with the back of my hand the other one smacking him lightly on the chest and I looked up at him as I said, voice thick from the tears. "Yeah you did."

I pushed back on him and took a step backwards, I wiped my eyes and took a deep breath, anger was less now, why was it so hard to stay mad at him? I was still so happy to see him, I swallowed hard and tried to strengthen my resolve, I couldn't give in so easily, my hands on my hips I looked up at him. "Asshole."

He laughed. "I deserved that too." I snorted and flipped my hair over my shoulder. "Naturally."

A moment of quiet. I was still reeling with emotion. I looked over to him, I still couldn’t believe it. I mean after two years and everything that happened why would I believe it?

“Where were you?” I repeated the question, anger tinting my words again and he picked up on it, he picked up on the fact that I didn’t necessarily want to be that way either. I didn’t like being angry or upset with him, I wished I didn’t have to be, even if it was justified and it was in this case I still didn’t like it.

“You’re allowed to be pissed at me.” Oh wasn’t that an idea. I scoffed and huffed out a shocked laugh. “Wow Fred! How generous of you! The great dream demon telling me that I am ALLOWED to be upset about this. Freddy Krueger himself has granted me PERMISSION to feel this way! I KNOW I am allowed to be furious with you!”

Two years of pent up emotions were spilling out, now that I was started it was hard to stop. Me two years ago wouldn’t have ever dared to speak this way to him but now I felt it was earned and he certainly wasn’t doing anything to defuse my anger at this moment. Maybe he knew that I needed to get this out. “I don’t know if you knew this but even when we were together and you were still around I was ALLOWED to feel whatever back then too! I didn’t need your approval to feel my own emotions, Fred.”

He took what I said, listening to me go on. “Like fuck Freddy, I can’t believe you sometimes! You fuck off to God-knows-where for two years and-”

“I’m sorry.”

His words made me stop dead.

He always liked surprises. He was always good at surprising me and I have to admit an apology was the last thing I ever expected from him even after the break.

“What?” It came out quiet, shocked and he stepped closer to me as he continued.

“I said I’m sorry.” He seemed almost reluctant to be saying the words themselves but the sentiment behind them came across as genuine. I got the feeling he actually did feel that way, some kind of regret and guilt and remorse. I took a step back trying to keep a little bit of distance between us, quiet still as I spoke. “I-I uhm...What?”

Dumbfounded was a good word to describe how I was feeling. He still took another step forward.

“I want you to know it wasn’t my fault. I didn’t want it, didn’t want to be away that long, didn’t want to be away at all. It wasn’t up to me but that doesn’t matter.”

“It doesn’t?”

He took my hand and was looking down at me as he pressed on. “No. I’m sorry I left you alone, that you were left wondering, but I am the most sorry I missed out on that time with you. So about that question from before…”

He brought my hand up and placed a kiss on the back of it, fingers laced together as he brought our hands back down, continuing. “I’ll tell you where I was but I was wondering if you would tell me what happened to you while I was away.”

What could I do?

My anger had melted way too quickly for my liking.

Here we were, him and I in the playroom like so many nights before, nights I had been thinking about and pouring over for the past two years. I had been wanting, hoping and wishing for another chance like this, another night here with him and I was having it. He openly admitted he fucked up, apologized, wanted to actually talk about this, what the fuck was happening here?

And why the fuck was I questioning it?

Everything I wanted was laid out in front of me.

I wanted to hear him out. I mean I was so curious, one of the biggest questions I had this whole time was where he was, what was happening with him, I had to know what happened. I needed peace of mind, I was always so damn curious too and the possibility of this being revealed to me was too much and also there was the other big thing too…

I wanted to stay. I wanted to spend tonight with him and get caught up because fucking Christ I missed him. If he wanted to know what happened to me I could tell him a small price to pay but a fair one, after everything that happened I suppose a mutual exchange of information was only appropriate.

“I know you can’t hate me too bad. You’re still wearing that necklace I gave you.”

My hand came up to my forehead and I laughed softly, it was true, I still was, wasn’t I? I let myself smile and looked up to him. “I can tell you. A lot happened though, Freddy.”

“We got all night, don’t we?”

“Good point.”  looked around the room again. I felt conflicted. I loved the playroom.

Really I did, I do, but after the past two years every time I spent the night here it ended in heartbreak for me. It didn’t feel quite the same as before, I felt vulnerable and so exposed in here already without me opening up and pouring out my heart about what happened when he left me behind. If I was going to open up I felt like it would be too hard in this room, I mean he had the power in here, not me. So I got an idea. “Let’s go somewhere else.”

He chuckled. “Why?” he asked.

“C’mon, humor me, Fred.”

I didn’t want to admit the real reason I wanted out so I laughed a little as held his hand a little tighter. “Please?”

“Alright, alright, where do you want to go?”

“It’s a surprise.” I took his other hand and he laughed. “You gonna surprise me?”

“Yeah I am.” I confirmed with a confident nod, the back and forth was nice, casual, familiar and right. Tones light and teasing, I would worry more in the morning, tonight I would throw myself into this and just try to enjoy this. I felt a slight shift in the air and he said. “Alright, think of where you want to go.”

Control was passed to me and I looked up at him. “So trusting. How do you know I won’t kill you, Fred?”

“I’d like to see you try, princess.”  Ouch. That hurt a surprising amount, I didn’t feel there yet, my heart pounded when he said it but I also felt cold sweat break out on my neck, conflicted was the word of the night it seems. I looked up to him and said. “Oof. Can you not do that?”

“Do what? Tease you? That is asking a lot of me.”

“No, please I know I couldn’t stop you teasing me-” And I wouldn’t want him to. “-I want you to just say my name tonight, no pet names.” He looked a little confused and I sighed. “There’s a reason, I’ll tell you why just not yet, okay?”

“So demanding Amber.” I smirked and gripped his hands a little tighter. “Oh you have no idea, Freddy.” We’d lingered long enough, a change of scenery felt very needed, the change was surprisingly quick and easy to accomplish. I let go of his hand. “Here we are.”

He looked around for a moment and looked down at me. “Is this where you live?”

“Lived.” I corrected as I stepped away, making my way over to the couch and he walked around the room, looking it over.

“Lived?” he asked.

“This is where I lived when we were seeing each other, but I moved a while back.”

He was looking over my bookshelves as he spoke. “Oh, where’d you move to?”

I held my hand out and gestured for him to come over. “I’ll get to that and tell you all about it, but you have to talk first.”

He stepped over, his hands behind his back. “Of course, I have a surprise for you too though.” Before I could ask what it was, he pulled out two low glasses in one hand and a familiar looking bottle that I hadn’t seen in so long. God yes, a drink sounded amazing right now, I reached out and took the bottle. “Fuck, it has been too long since I’ve had this stuff.”

He sat down next to me and set the glasses down as I was inspecting the bottle. “Can’t find it out there?” he asked.

“No, no I did but it’s too much money, hard to justify it. You’ve got expensive tastes Freddy.” I passed the bottle back and he opened it pouring us both a drink, I took my glass and after thanking him: another moment of quiet.

I started, “So...What happened?”

A beat.

“No real way to dance around it I suppose. Uhm,” he paused taking a sip, he was looking away from me, eyes forward, forearms on his knees as he said it, matter of fact and with not a lot of emotion, which was odd considering what he said. “I died.”

It felt like ice ran through my veins. “What?”

I was so confused, so many thoughts running through my head all at once, I turned on my place on the couch to look at him, he glanced over and repeated. “I died.”

“I heard you, Fred. I thought you were already...dead?” The end came out like a question, I had heard, read about, we talked about the fact he had died, I remembered the story well and here he was saying he died again?

“Yeah technically I did die before. It is a lot to explain-so Amber, when I am away from you I go hunting, yeah?”

“Yeah.” I nodded, brows furrowed together, listening intently, hands folded in my lap, cradling the glass.

“So I had this group of teens I was after for a while. It was normal, same as it ever was, stalking, taunting, all of that, the night after I saw you last I was going to finish it. I had already taken out some of their friends, there were only three of them left.” Another nod from me, he took another sip before continuing on.

“And I dunno how, but they bested me. I normally take them out one on one but they made some stupid little plan, three of them at once, managed to take me down. Talk about fuckin’ embarrassing.” he grumbled and downed the rest of the drink and I finally took a generous swallow myself, the burn felt so good and so fucking needed for this bat-shit insane conversation, I spoke up.

“Wait-wait so you are already dead. But you can die again? And-and you did, and that is where you were, so how are you back?”

“Yeah it’s a complex process, one I do not intend to bore you with tonight.”

The thought hit all at once and I verbalized it just as quickly. “Hold on! You’ve died, been dead, what is the afterlife like?”

“Oh no way! We are NOT getting into that fucking mess tonight.” he said it with a laugh and a shake of his head. Yeah, to be fair we had enough catching up to do without discussing all the minutiae and intricacies of death.

“Fine, fine not tonight. But Freddy, this…” I took a deep breath. “You’ve died before?”

“Yeah.”

Fuck. This hurt really badly to hear for some reason. My heart twisted and with a hand on my chest I put my drink down on the coffee table and reached out my now freed hand to him, taking his hand I said. “For how long?”

“It’s different every time.” Every time? How many times has this happened to him? "Different?"

"The length of time I'm gone."

Huh. This was a lot for me to take in all at once. He didn't leave, didn't abandon me. It wasn't my fault, I hadn't driven him away. A big relief, I was so scared it was something I did. I let out a huge exhale. "What's the longest time you've ever been gone?"

He was in the middle of pouring himself another drink with the hand I didn't have a vice grip on. "Oh had to be about…" He paused looking thoughtful for a moment before saying as he set it down. "Eight years closer to nine."

Jesus Christ.

It could have been so much worse. Oh so much worse, I felt thankful it was so short this time around.

"And the shortest?"

"Five months." Fucking hell. Five months all the way to nearly ten years? Pretty big window. "But I always come back."

I was thankful for that. I did feel better after talking to him about this. With what I learned during the time he was away what said made sense. I was silent for a bit as I mulled over what he said, I missed him but what I didn’t miss was trying to parse through this bullshit, it was complex enough already without thinking about the realities of how his powers worked, what physical space these dreams occupied, life and death. “How long have you been back for?”

“A week. I had things to see to before I could come see you. Take out those assholes obviously and a few other things.”

Well I am sure he had his reasons. I am sure it was important and if he could have seen me sooner he would have. I sighed and downed the rest of my glass. I set it down on the table again and looked over to him. "How am I supposed to do this?" I paused before I continued. "I feel like I am much more prone to getting hurt in this arrangement. Like...What if you die again? Are gone for even longer?"

"And what if I don't die again?" What a thought. I hoped and wished that would be the case of course but my fears weren't silenced yet. "And what if you do?"

Another surprise. "You do know I'm in the same position as you are, right?"

"How so?"

"Amber. You're human, you come here and we have our fun but then you get up and go out there to reality. I can't do anything to protect you when you're out there. You could die out there and leave me alone so easily. Hit by a car tomorrow, a fall in the shower next week, a fucking brain aneurysm and I would be left wondering what happened to you."

He was holding my hand tighter as he continued, thumb stroking over the back of my hand. "Humans are so fragile. You die all the time for the stupidest and smallest reasons. At least I come back. If you die then that's it."

He would be hurt if I died. Again, he isn't a romantic guy, isn't the type to say ‘I love you’ seriously, but this meant more to me than those three common words. He cares and he would miss me if I died.

"When you put my gloved hand on your throat earlier, I was reminded of it. I felt your pulse and the blood rushing under the surface of your skin and I thought how one wrong move could kill you. I know I would never make such a mistake. But out there? I can't control what happens to you."

What we had took a lot of trust. I did trust him but he also had to trust me, something I was sure wasn't easy for him. I know one thing for sure right now, he could keep me here, but he doesn't. Why? Because even letting me out of here, letting me live a normal, human life in reality, as much as it is dangerous or I could die and as much as it opens him up to be hurt too, it opens up the possibility of something much more.

It means that I keep choosing him. I keep coming back to him. I have options out there. Opportunities. Other people I could have in my bed, other things I could be doing and yet I come back over and over and I choose him willingly.

A reminder that I do have power here. That I do have a certain level of control.

That he does have to trust me and open himself up in our arrangement.

As I am writing and recalling this for you now dear reader I am struck with the thought that this IS why he likes me so much. I chose him. From the first meeting. I went to him, I called to him and I initiated and instigated and kept coming back, begging for more all the while. He is used to hunting and going after what he wants but I never took the time to stop and think that he wouldn't be used to being pursued himself. Wouldn’t be used to being wanted, needed as I made him feel. Feeling desired in such a way is a powerful thing after all.

It's nice to feel needed.

There was no way he was lying about all this. “Alright. I believe you.”

“Really?” He seemed a little surprised and amused at that. I gave a nod in response before verbally saying it. “Yes I do.”

I picked up the bottle to pour another and as I was looking away from him I mused, out loud mostly to myself. “How big of an idiot does that make me?”

“You aren’t an idiot, Amber.”

“Hmm pretty sure I am.” I picked my glass up and looked into it, and sighed before saying: “So you want to know what happened to me.”

“Sure do. I am sure it is much more interesting than what happened to me.”

I scoffed and rolled my eyes at him. “As if. I know dying might be normal and run of the mill for you but the idea of the afterlife is an extremely interesting one to us mortals.” I took another mouthful before continuing. “But I did say I would tell you.”

This...Was a big thing. I was about to tell him about these long past two years, I had been as exposed as any human could be before him. He has seen me in countless compromising positions, has seen me cry and cum and cry while cumming for fucks sake. He has been inside me and made me say the most degrading filthy shit, I mean I don’t know why I am telling this to you again dear reader, you know this. You read it all yourself, you know what he has gotten me to do. But talking about this was going to be difficult. We don’t typically talk emotions and I kind of had a lot of them when he was gone.

I looked over to him. Fuck. I really am still his aren’t I? Even after all this time, he has me and I don’t want to change that. He wants me to tell him and that is enough to make me want to share. And to be fair it isn’t all bad, there are a lot of good times to tell him about. Times I couldn’t wait to fill him in on…

So I started.

I told him how for the first month I was concerned, worried even but overall unbothered, just thought he was purposefully not seeing me because of the fight or something, or just being busy. The second month was uneventful but my moods worsened, I got more and more worried. By the third month it had bled into my normal life heavily.

“The third month was really…” I sighed and took another pull from my glass before continuing. “Really hard.”

“What was so hard about it?”

“Dreaming. Dreaming was the hardest. I had a dream, a terrible, awful dream. I thought you were back. I woke up to find my body intact. Not a single cut. It wasn’t true, it wasn’t you.” We were looking at each other, both sitting side saddle on the couch to face each other. I bit my bottom lip. “You missed me that much?”

I nodded, eyes breaking away from him. I missed him so terribly, so much my mind tried to recreate the times we shared but it failed. It was to be expected to be honest, what could ever possibly live up to him? No substitute would ever do. And of course he loved the idea that I missed him so fucking much my subconcious couldn’t handle the loss and tried to fix it. I was almost reluctant to tell him, he has a big enough ego without me admitting this little detail. He took one of my hands and said. “I’m touched, Amber.”

I chuckled before I said, “I bet.”

I took a moment before continuing. “I tried to go along with it. Tried to lose myself in it. It didn’t work, wasn’t satisfying, wasn’t even close to being with you. I couldn’t take it after a while. I decided to take some control back and I learnt to lucid dream so I could avoid the playroom.”

“I knew it! That is what is different about you.” I laughed and looked up to him. “There is a lot different about me now Fred. But yeah that is a big one…” I took another swig of my drink. “You sound surprised.”

“Well yeah, that is because I am Amber.” I rolled my eyes. “Smartass. Okay this is one question I have had on my mind for a while Freddy. How much can you see into my head?”

“Thought you liked the mystery of it.” I smirked and gave a slight shrug. “I do. But if we are really going to continue this I have to know more about how this works, how you work.”

He smiled back at me, I imagine because of my admission that I would like our little arrangement to continue on. “Very fair Amber. I can see into your head very well, but I don’t often.”

That was shocking. “Really?”

“I mean of course I do on occasion. Make sure you are okay during an intense scene, or to get an idea for a good surprise like that birthday gift of yours, but I respect your privacy for the most part. Plus it is fun, I like not knowing everything, I like it when you are able to surprise me too and you have done that plenty of times.”

As full of surprises as ever. I knew he could see into my head, it was the only way to explain some of what happened between us but the fact that he doesn’t do it all the time was shocking to me. Still he could take a peek and see everything that happened but instead he wants me to tell him. The fact he trusts me to be honest with him even after all this time is sweet.

I continued on recounting for him.

The fourth month I spent so withdrawn and upset, mood swings, a lot of crying, hoping, praying to a God that let's be honest if they did exist certainly had nothing to do with him. It was affecting my work, and my sleep and my everything. I was still seeing him in the playroom then. The fifth month I broke down and vowed to never see him, or rather the false version of him again. I devoted a lot of time and energy to learning to control my own dreams. It worked and at the time I was unsure of how to feel about it, I settled on a mix of sadness and relief.

It was midway through the sixth month that there was something good to tell. Mark insisted on taking me out and reluctantly I agreed. I decided to get a little dressed up, try to feel better about myself, when I showed up and saw the look on Mark’s face it made me feel better. I decided to have a good time that night, I had spent a few months moping and not doing much of anything, I deserved a good time.

We were out at a favorite bar of ours and it was a Saturday night, after another Friday of my hopes being dashed by not seeing him I could use a night of drinking. Mark was a good guy, funny, nice, again if I didn’t start all this with Freddy I could have seen myself dating him for a while, the notion was impossible now though.

We both downed another shot, both rosy cheeked and definitely drunk by now. Conversation had been flowing well between us, both happy and laughing over the stupidest shit. “No, no, no I am telling you, Mark, I am telling you! She is!”

“I just don’t see it!”

“Ugh re-watch it, you are so wrong.” I gestured to the bartender for another drink for the both of us before we retreated to our table we had been sitting at before. Sitting across from each other it was quiet for a moment, I was looking at the menu debating the merit of drunk nachos when Mark spoke up. “Hey Amber?”

“Mmm yeah Mark?” I looked up from the menu to him and he looked a little serious. “I..Hmm. I um, like your necklace.”

I looked down, of course I was still wearing it, hadn’t taken it off at all, seeing it reminded me he was gone and I didn’t know why, it made me a little sad but I shook my head trying to wish away the thoughts, I was going to be happy tonight damn it! I smiled. “Thanks Mark.” He looked a little flustered so I smiled wider and added: “You’ve complimented it before, you know.”

“Yeah-I know I just really…” I was holding the charm between two of my fingers, elbows on the table, leaning forward, pushing my chest together, eyes looking into his with that awful flirty smile that I know got to him as he finished the thought. “...like it.”

I hummed and nodded before dropping the charm again and picking up my glass for another drink. “I like you Amber. Like, a lot.”

I looked up from my glass and Mark continued on. “This is going to sound so fuckin’ crazy but I had these wild dreams about you months ago that I can’t stop thinking about.”

Oh Mark. He brought them up first, all the time and teasing, I knew he had wanted to talk about them long ago but I suppose now with the drinking he seemed emboldened enough to dare. Then.

A bad, dumb, hot idea.

Fuck it, why not?

“I know, Mark.” “You know? H-how do you-?”

“Because they were real. I was really there. I did get fucked in front of you in that club. I did get fucked in that deep red room while you were made to watch. Those dreams were real, that man, that monster who did it to me is real.”

Shock. Pure shock, his expression was delicious and well worth the wait.

“So…The. The that?” He pointed at my necklace and I nodded with a smirk. “He gave it to me.”

“And you?”

“Really get fucked by him? Oh yes Mark. And it is amazing, but I am sure you knew that, you saw it after all.” He finished off his drink and sucked in a harsh breath through his teeth before his brows furrowed, head in his hands. “I-I don’t believe this.”

“I know, it is pretty unbelievable.” The fact that it happened and the fact that I just admitted to it. I squeezed my thighs together, fuck this felt hot to be honest about, months without seeing the true him had me so ready and sensitive, so easy to work up. I had played with Mark for so long, toying with the idea of it being real to mess with him, and now here I was confirming it.

“Amber I don’t think you understand, those dreams...They were the hottest thing I have ever experienced.” Well that wasn’t quite what I was expecting.

Oh…Oh Mark, was I right? Are you a big cuck just like me? Are you craving to give into submissive desires, do you long to be dominated as I do? Please say it is so.

“Mark really? You enjoyed yourself that much?”

“Yes. So so much. I-I really wanted to experience more but-”

“The dreams stopped.” I sighed after finishing the thought for him and I decided to open up further. “Here is the thing about that, Mark. I know you’ve noticed that I have been different over the past few months. I was so happy and confident and driven. He, Freddy, was the reason for that, he made me feel so happy and fulfilled and amazing...But he kind of disappeared on me Mark. He’s been gone the past few months.”

I finished my drink now, slamming the glass down, back of my hand wiping over my mouth. “And I dunno why. I am worried I drove him away or something, that it is my fault.” I swallowed hard, don’t get sad now Amber, press on. “In his absence, I have been very um…”

He dropped his hands looking at me, I walked two of my fingers across the table, hand placed over his as I said the last two words. “Pent up.”

His brows raised and I smirked and he questioned me. “Amber what are you suggesting?”

“You liked what we did yeah? The teasing, the taunting, the not being able to do anything? Being helpless?”

He was staring at our joined hands on the table top. “Yes.” he said softly.

“Then what if I had a little proposition for you, something to help you delve deeper into those fantasies and something to help me relieve my tensions?” His eyes pulled up to mine, his face seemed much redder, he seemed adorably nervous, he swallowed hard. “I would say yes.”

And that is how it started.

When we were sober we laid out ground rules. He wasn’t allowed to touch me, I initiated all physical contact between us. He would communicate and be open and honest with me. If he followed the rules I told him that I would make him feel amazing, push his boundaries further than he thought possible, show him things he never dreamed of, I would be there every step of the way.

I started easy enough with him.

Our first ‘date’ doing that was the following week. I invited him to my apartment, I took it easy, initiated it slowly. I told him a story about one of the evenings I shared with Freddy. I watched as he got into it, he was sitting across from me, I was on the couch, he was in a chair, I spoke to him and when he was achingly hard, looking like his zipper was about to burst I told him to” “Take it out. Touch yourself as I tell you the rest of it.” He released himself with a flushed face and shaking hands, he was a good size, bigger than anticipated, leaking pre-cum, so hard and it was all for me. I watched as he touched himself, I kept talking, kept telling him of the filth I got up to, the story slowly becoming interspersed with commands for him to follow: “Twist your wrist like that.” “Slower.” “Grip it harder.”

He was so cute. He was shaking, panting, breathing so fucking hard, soft moans, could bearly sit still, when I told him to stop when he got close, his hand still gripping so hard but not moving, his eyes shut so tight, toes curing in my living room rug, body taut like a string ready to snap. I wanted to take a picture of him. He looked wonderfully wrecked like this.

I got it in that moment. This is power.

This is what Freddy liked about our dynamic. I liked it too but now I could see it from his side. If he was going to be gone then I would play with this. Tease and taunt Mark the way I wish Freddy would do to me if he were here.

This was going to be fun.

I made him start again, slowly, once the edge backed off, and then when he got close I made him stop again. I only made him edge three times and he looked ready to cry. "What's the matter Mark?"

"Amber please! I-I really want to-”

“Want to cum?” He nodded furiously and I felt so much, sexy and powerful and in control and it was different than I was used to but it was so enjoyable. I needed something different. Craved different lately. "Mmm maybe I'll let you. It's just edging you is so much fun."

"Edging?"

"That is what we are doing to you right now. Getting really close to orgasm and stopping. Getting close to the edge of climax and denying it."

"But why-fuck would we do that?"

I couldn't hold back my smile as I asked, "Mark do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Good. Then just do as I say and I promise the why will become clear."

He groaned but agreed. I was nice tonight, it was only our first time doing this so after one more edge. “Lean back in your chair. Pull your shirt up. If you are going to cum you are going to make a mess of yourself, understood?”

“Ye-yes Amber.”

It was amazing to watch. He did as I asked and he couldn’t keep quiet, fuck he sounded so hot when he was like this, he moaned my name when he finished and the load was impressive. He was heaving, eyes closed, I stood and walked over to him, I circled the chair, just taking in the sight of him after a minute before I asked as I stood in front of him. “How was it?”

“Auh-mazing.” His eyes opened and he looked up to me and asked. “Fu-ck why was that so good?”

“That would be the edging. If you build it up and back off or ‘edge’ then when you do finally get release it makes it so much better.” I leaned down, hands on my knees as I was looking into his eyes and I asked, “Would you like to have another ‘date’ like this. Same time next week?”

“God yes.” And just like that on it continued.

"We aren't dating."

"I know that Amber."

"That isn't what this is about. I know we call them ‘dates’ but it isn’t like that. It's about kink and having fun."

"Of course."

"Are you sure you can handle that? I don't want you to get hurt by wanting more. More that I cannot give you."

"Yes I'm sure, now please?" I really liked how he said ‘please’ like that. On his knees in front of me on the hardwood floor of my living room, cock in hand, begging me to be allowed to keep touching himself. I let him indulge himself as I watched on and gave instructions very amused with the pathetic sounds he made.

I continued to escalate it, being more dominating and demanding, he loved it. He could get out at any time, he had a safe word and was told often if he legitimately didn't want to do something to use it and I would stop immediately. He never did end up using it, a glutton for punishment, a fellow submissive after my own heart.

So the other thing about this arrangement is that it was very hot, very exciting for me, it was new and different. I ended up falling back into old habits hard, thing was while masturbation was great, my own hands just didn't seem to cut it the same way anymore. I mean before when Freddy and I were together I still masturbated, unless he said otherwise but most times I was so fulfilled by what we did there wasn't much need for it and when there was, hands or grinding on something was enough. It wasn't anymore though so I decided to do some investing, I did some research and ended up getting some great toys. That helped for a while, I mean physically it felt incredible, but physical pleasure wasn't enough either, the times with Freddy there was so much of a mental aspect to it, I felt very engaged and everything was heightened. I needed that mental stimulation now too, he really had wrecked me, even some solo time just wasn’t the same anymore.

That is how I had the idea of two birds with one stone. I wanted to get off during my sessions with Mark. So far I have stayed dressed and talked and teased but not much else, but I really wanted to join in. Thing was I couldn’t just start that out of the blue, no way, I needed to use this as part of the game, a chance to up it and get something I really wanted from him.

Thankfully and luckily for me, he gave me an amazing in to make this happen.

By three months I had Mark trained surprisingly well. We would have these little ‘dates’ he would be so good and listen so well, he would do basically whatever I asked, thus far it was mostly edging but me being more dominant over him was becoming a staple and one that he seemed to be very much into- “Wait so you started a dominant and submissive relationship with Mark? Ha you actually fuckin’ conivnced Mark to be YOUR sub?”

“Oh Freddy more than just that. I wasn’t just his dom. I was his key holder.”

“Fuck. No way, after three months?”

“Well let me tell you all about that.”

The conversation and me telling the story was going well, he was into it, surprisingly okay with it but to be fair I kept it as planontic as one can keep a dom/sub friendship. I pressed on with the story and told him about how I convinced Mark. He was in my apartment once again, touching himself for me again, he was into it, I was quiet for a minute observing him. Observing was an important part of this. I needed to really learn his limits, unlike Freddy I couldn’t read minds, I had to learn his tells, what the hitch in his breath meant, how his thighs would tense when he was riding the edge but not in imminent danger of slipping over, the looks he gave me, the different tones of his voice. Learning exactly how far I could push him and how close I could get him before the inevitable was key, I had gotten pretty good at it thus far, I am a pretty observant person when it came to this kind of thing, I could pay very close attention to my partners reactions during sexual scenarios such as these.

Mark had his eyes closed, lost in what he was doing, breathing was quickened but not labored, he wasn’t anywhere close, just enjoying himself. I snapped my fingers and said it loud and clear. “Mark.”

His eyes shot open, looking at me immediately and he asked: “Yes Amber?”

“You have fun with me, yeah?” The little moan he let out was too fucking cute. He nodded, hand keeping steady pace, I chuckled before leaning back, arms on the backrest of the couch as I continued. “Good. You like what we’ve done?”

“Mmhmm.” Adorable. “You like the game we play then. Want to keep it going? Escalate it to the next step?”

He seemed a little hesitant. “Well what would that be?”

“Oh I promise it will be good.” I was still dressed from work, I took off my blazer and threw it over the arm of the couch, I looked back to him, maintaining eye contact as I started to unbutton my blouse. His eyes widened and I stifled a laugh before speaking. “See I know what you did. I know that you stole something from me.”

“Wha-what?” I stood up and untucked my blouse from my skirt as I continued. “An unauthorized orgasm. Stolen without express permission, I am surprised at you Mark truly. You were doing so well. I hoped you’d come forward and admit it to me but you didn’t so I had to think long and hard about just what to do with you.”

“How’d you know?”

“You went to do your edge at lunchtime and when you came back to your desk there was some-let’s say ‘evidence’ on your shoe.”

“Fuck,” he whispered under his breath looking away from me before he breathed hard. “Amber I’m sorry.”

“Oh no you aren’t. But you will be.” He swallowed hard and I smirked before continuing. “So you can’t be trusted, obviously, to not go over again on your own. So the question becomes how to prevent you from touching my property and abusing the privilege of self pleasure. The solution was so simple.”

I told him as I walked over to my purse, I picked it up and reached inside and pulled out a box, I walked over to him and looked down at him, the first few buttons of my blouse open now, I paused,smiling wide. “Mark, do you know what a chastity cage is?” I asked.

The look of recognition on his face was instantaneous and he shook his head a little before resisting. “Oh God Amber I am so sorry, really I-”

“Shhh. Listen to me Mark.” He bit his bottom lip, his hand slowed, and the edge must have finally been creeping up on him. “I know you want this. I know you like this. Having someone else in control of you and your pleasure. You love how much better it feels, you love to be told no and here is the thing if you can only touch yourself during our little play time together think of how good it will feel. How much harder you will cum when I allow it.”

He was looking more and more excited the more I talked about it and I added on. “And you haven’t even heard the biggest incentive yet Mark. If you agree then I will join in on our sessions.”

“Wait-ah what?” The enthusiasm, he seemed so utterly delighted by the very mention of it, I said.  “Yes Mark if you agree then not only will I regale you with stories and tell you what to do and all of that but I will strip down, or dress up, depending on my mood really, and get myself off in front of you.”

“Yes! Yes, yes I-I’ll do it!” The idea of mutual masturbation sessions with me leading him and dominating him was a very enticing and exciting thought. He agreed so easily and quickly, I set the box down on the table next to his chair and spoke. “Good choice Mark. Such a good one I’ll be nice and even let you cum tonight before locking you up for the first time.”

My hands came back up and I unbuttoned my blouse the rest of the way, the strained sound he made was so pleasing to the ear, I dropped the blouse and unzipped the back of my skirt, I shimmed out of it and let it drop to the floor pooling around my heels. It had been so long since I was so exposed in front of him, the way he was looking at me was excellent, I felt desired and so hot. I saw his gaze lingering on my legs.

“Got a thing for thigh high stockings huh? I’ll keep that in mind but I’m getting totally naked tonight.”

I slipped off my heels before making my way back to the couch across from him, I had my back to him as I unhooked my bra and then threw it aside, thumbs finding the waistband of my panties and sliding them down over the curve of my ass. Garter belt and stockings removed, every piece I shed he let out the best little strained moans and sounds, he must be dying over there. I finally turned around to look at him, fuck he looked a lot more flustered now. I sat down on the couch and spread my legs, getting comfortable. He let out a gasp and his hand paused for a moment, his grip was so tight.

Oh yeah, I realized that he hadn’t seen me naked since before my last birthday, he hadn’t seen the little gift he got me. I asked it with a nod of my head, gesturing to the small curved barbell below my waist. “Do you like it?”

“Ye-ah.” God I loved how broken he sounded, his hand started moving again tentatively and I decided to get started myself. I was already slick and turned on from watching him, from the scenario of what we were doing, from him agreeing to being locked for me, my fingers dragging up through my soaked folds. He already looked so dangerously close, I spoke up.

“Now Mark, I did say that you could cum tonight but you don’t get to until I say, okay?” He whined a little and I tsk’d at him. “I could still change my mind. Be good for me. Aren’t you my good boy?”

“Yes.” He was so talkative but when I had him like this, in this submissive headspace, edging so beautifully like this, he was reduced to short answers and broken sentences and moans. I could relate to that feeling so well, I missed the times where I was like that.

“I know you are. Such good manners too so I know you will wait. How does that saying go again?” I dragged my fingers up over my clit and paused to circle it, hips arched into my touch and I let out a moan, as did he from the mere sight of me, and teased him. “Oh that’s right. Ladies first.”

I made him hold out a long time. Mark underestimated my own experience with edging and the fact that I enjoyed it, particularly when it was being used to tease him. When I finally did come he came seconds after I did, a shuddering and panting mess, he came over the hardwood floor in front of his chair and fell back still shaking once he was drained. He thanked me, breathless and looking ruined, so much sweat, hair sticking to his forehead, it was quite a sight.

I got up and I walked over to him, careful to avoid the mess he left on the floor. Now I didn’t touch Mark often during these times, he was mostly meant just to touch himself, that is how it was supposed to be but I was a good and educated dom, I knew that aftercare was important and that he needed some physical touch from me. I kept it casual and easy however, fairly platonic. I ran my fingers through his hair and ruffled it a little bit, he leaned up into my touch and I smirked down at him. “How was it?”

“Fucking-ha-unbelievable” he responded, still trying to catch his breath, he gushed to me, complimenting how hot I looked, how good I sounded, how much better it was when he was watching me, he thanked me again and I felt good. Better than I had in awhile, this was a good distraction. “Well I am glad it was so good. Now let’s get you locked up before you clean up your mess.”

“Oh yeah sorry, I-I got a little excited there.” he said looking down at the mess he made and I smiled wider, fingers threaded in his hair I gripped hard and pulled his head back, eyes looking into his as I said in my best mocking and teasing tone:

“Hey Mark it’s okay. It happens. But don’t worry…” My opposite hand gripped his jaw, the look in his eye betrayed the fact that he liked me handling him like this and I continued. “You have such a good little mouth, I am sure it will clean up your mess perfectly.”

The look on his face was priceless.

I was a good dom, if not a little sadistic. I mean how can I not be? I learnt from the best, and also I was still frustrated over the fact he was gone and I didn't know why. I took out that frustration on Mark, was that fair? Maybe not but he seemed to fucking love it so I didnt linger on feeling guilty, besides I needed an outlet and he was as good a one as any.

I told Freddy about this night I was with Mark that got really wild. He had done some really great work with a client, so good we decided to celebrate a little. I was just stepping inside my apartment with Mark in tow, we were laughing and talking about something, once he was inside and his coat was off he made a move to go to the kitchen when I grabbed his wrist to stop him.

"Where do you think you're going?"

"Um, to get us some drinks?" Just like that from me touching him, looking at him that way, the way I said it, the whole tone shifted and changed, light and playful no longer.

"I thought you said you wanted a whole night of it."

"I do." It was funny. Here he was, over 6 feet and much bigger than 5'2, 5'6 thanks to today's choice of heels, little old me, but I talk to him like this and he is putty in my hands. He could easily over power me if he wanted to, it would be no contest, take no effort, but that isn't what he wanted. "Then why are you still standing?"

I let go of his wrist and I pointed to the floor. "Hands and knees." I stated firmly.

He dropped so quickly I have to hide a laugh behind my hand, God he is so obedient. First order of business was the shower, I would give him the key I had been keeping on a charm bracelet I would wear everyday and watch him unlock himself and have a shower. Cleanliness is important and he was allowed to unlock for a good deep clean once a week, supervised of course, can't have him stealing another orgasm without permission.

I was sitting on the bathroom counter top as I watched him, he was always so on edge when I was observing him like this. "Relax Mark I'm not gonna bite you." He'd probably like that though if I did. After the shower I allowed him to put on some of the clothes he brought, he intended to spend the night on the couch of course, he knows better than thinking he can share my bed.

We ordered food and while we waited I suggested we watch something on tv. We did so, me on the couch, him on the floor under me. He was the one who suggested during quieter times like these that I use him as a piece of furniture. He was embarrassed by how much he enjoyed it and it was cute how red his face got and how much pre-cum he would leak from such a simple act. After the food came and we ate the real fun began. Our usual mutual masturbation session, led by me as I told him what to do, talked to him, making him admit filthy things to me. I rode a new dildo I had just purchased and used a vibe, I came around three times before deciding he could finish too.

I was behind him, hands on his shoulders, he was shaking when I asked him nonchalantly. "Would you like me to touch you when you cum?"

"Ohhh God, yes, you mean it?" I smirked, being behind him he couldn't see that though. See Mark touches himself, I touch myself, he doesn't touch me and I tell him what to do, I've put my hands on him but never below the waist, I know my limits and his.

"Mmhmm."

"This isn't a trick is it?" I laughed and leaned down, I whispered in his ear. "No, I promise. I'll touch you exactly how you want."

He looked about ready to burst from happiness, God this was going to be fun. "Tell me when you're right there."

He nodded, a small strained sound leaving his throat, he was so keyed up, so tense. My hands on his shoulders slid down, over his chest and down his stomach, finger tips almost on his hips, he couldn’t stay still by this point. I was watching him closely, waiting for just the right moment, watching his every little move, and then I got the sign I was waiting for.

“There.” He breathed out, one more stroke and my hands moved, quickly I grabbed his wrists and pulled them up hard so they were on either side of his head. He was confused, he struggled, panting so hard, he was harder than I had ever seen. “Cum.” I whispered in his ear.

He did. Oh fucking God he did. So good, a sublimely ruined orgasm, the sounds he made, how he tried to get away, tried to get any stimulation, tried to get anything. His cum spilled over his inner thighs and on the floor, quite the mess he made. He cursed me out. “You fuckin’ bitch-” he groaned out and I laughed, grip tightened on his wrists.

“Awe Mark the mouth on you! Is that anyway to talk to me when I give you just what you wanted?” I teased.

“Just what I wanted?!”

I laughed again and finally let his wrists go before walking around the chair to be in front of him. “Yes Mark, just what you wanted.” I bent down to be at eye level with him as I continued. “See, whenever I give you permission and let you have a nice full orgasm, I see it in your eyes.”

“See what?”

“Disappointment.” I reached out and booped his nose before continuing. “You love how needy you get when I am controlling you. It makes you feel special. Like you have a dirty little secret, you like feeling constantly aroused, you like how it motivates you too, so when you do get permission, as good as it feels and as much as you like it, you lose all that built up need and it makes you a little sad.”

I smiled wider, he looked flustered, he was looking away from me and I continued. “So ruins are perfect for you! Takes a little bit of the edge off but brings the need back quickly and even stronger. Face it Mark you wanted this, even if you didn’t know it, you are built for ruins. I am sure you are going to be thanking me for this soon.”

He did end up thanking me for it. He pulled me into the stockroom at work only two days later. I had my back against the shelves in a second and he said. “I hate you and I hate that you are right.”

“Oh I know you do but what am I right about this time exactly?” He looked embarrassed again, he looked like that often when we were alone. “That...That I like this a lot. The ruin was-fuck I can’t stop thinking about it. It was so mean, so terrible, so unfair but-”

I couldn’t help it, I smirked so hard as I asked it, urging him on. “But?”

“But...I loved it. I love how frustrated I was, how emotional I got, I felt so much, the need was back so quickly.” I chuckled and shook my head, pushing off the shelves, I was standing right in front of him, looking up at him, smirking harder before saying. “I told you so Mark.”

“Ugh I know.” A beat before he looked away from me, he spoke so quietly when he asked. “The cage..Uhm...It hurts sometimes.”

“Hmm that is odd. It shouldn’t.” I said with a cock of my head.

“No?”

“No. Not if you aren’t trying to get hard.” He scoffed and looked at me. “I can’t exactly control that.”

“Sure you can! It isn’t my fault you can’t control yourself.”

“But you are always teasing me! You wear my key on your wrist and I have to see it all the time! It reminds me of all the stuff we do.” It is true. I do wear his key to remind him, I wear things I know that get to him, innuendo slipped into our conversations constantly, small touches, innocent ones just on his arm or back that I knew set him on fire all the same. I do a lot of things to tease him and make it all worse. Pretending I didn’t know exactly how I was affecting him was fun.

“Awe, I am just living my life, if you see things I do as sexual and get yourself all worked up then that sounds like a you problem.” I turned on my heel and left the stockroom with a big smile on my face. God I loved being a totally unfair bitch to him. I kept leaning into it, leaning into doing things I wish were happening to me, that I wished he were doing to me.

Everything with Mark was fun.

Like. Really fun.

But it was getting to be a bit annoying. And frustrating. Freddy had been gone for almost a year by this point. It was upsetting, I still couldn’t believe he was gone, that he left me behind. I wanted to be treated like how I treated Mark, I wanted to be a submissive little fuck toy again, that is who I really was deep down. I could play dom and legitimately love and enjoy it but it wasn’t who I was deep down. What else was I supposed to do though? I just kept moving, kept living.

I went out to the club with my friends one night to forget my troubles, it was good, a fun time, I mean to start. They all met guys, all went home with them, I was alone, having another drink before going home, it was Friday but I wasn’t in a rush, I doubted more and more that I would see him, so if I was late why did it matter?

I was filling Freddy in dear reader but I will not lie when I say I was skipping over just how I was feeling a lot. How angry and sad and bitter some of my days were. How some days I would almost not even think of him (but still would) or how other days I would wake up and have a miserable day where negative emotions fueled every little thing I did and those days I was particularly cruel to Mark.

How I treated Mark was so very reminiscent of how Freddy would treat me at his most sadistic, his most awful and mean and rude and how he loved denying me. Then she showed up. The foil to this, to mirror the other side of him, spoiling, kind, extreme sexual excess.

I was finishing my drink when she came up to me. “Amber?” I looked up to see her. I hadn’t seen her in so long, that cute girl from the club and from my birthday, I pointed at her as recognition hit. “Amy?”

“Yeah! How are you doing?” I pause for a moment before deciding on answering. “Good! Uh really good! How are you?”

“Fine, fine. I saw your friends left, all went home with some guys.”

“Yeah they did, but that’s fine.”

“Is it? I saw some guy, cute guy, hot guy really, chatting you up most of the night, why didn’t you go off with him? Not the casual hook up type?”

I laughed and nodded before saying: “Yeah you could say that.”

“I’m done my shift, I covered for a coworker a while back so she agreed to cover for me, we got a while before close. This might be weird but would you mind if I sat with you?”

“Sure! Why not.” I shrugged and that is how it started. We had drinks and talked and it was fun, I could always use more friends.

She became a really good friend, really quickly, maybe I liked the reminder she brought with her, of some of the hottest times I had with him, to start anyway until I realized just how great she was as a person and how fun she was to be around.

A night at my place, we drink and drink and she admits it to me. “Amber, you’re so hot.” I laughed a little too loudly, hair flipped over my shoulder. “Oh stop it, you’re just drunk.”

“No, well yes I am, but uhm-fuck…I-this is going to sound crazy but I had these dreams-”

And there it was. The admission of why she really wanted to start hanging out with me, of course I should have realized that she might have an ulterior motive for wanting to start hanging out with me, not like I could be mad when I did the same thing.

An opportunity presented itself to me here. She went off talking about how hot she thought it was and how weird it was that she had dreams about me before she felt like she ever threw me in real life so I told her. Told her the dreams were real, that he was real, that what happened was true and she wasn’t crazy. Her admitting to the dreams helped me with this myself. Another person confirming what happened was real, not just me and Mark, another person who knew about it and reminded me that I wasn’t crazy which I started to feel a little bit of lately. It was just so long since I had seen him that despite the proof, the stories, the memories, the necklace and of course the marks on my body, I was doubting myself. The marks were lessening, lightening and fading and that was upsetting in it’s own right. It’s like he was really leaving, the one thing I could count on, the damage he did physically, the actual proof on my skin was lessening and it was hard to take.

This girl Amy, or rather Amanda, Amy was what she used at work, was shocked, delighted and well aroused. She asked me to talk about him, I did, at length, we were both drunk, I was deep into the story behind my birthday when I noticed it. “Where’s your hand right now?”

I slipped into that tone so quickly and so easily. I was so used to what I had with Mark that I did it without thinking. “Wha-what?”

“Where. Is. Your. Hand?”

I said it slowly and firmly, maintaining eye contact with her. She had gotten so into my story she attempted to touch herself while I was telling it to her. She got flustered and embarrassed and I encouraged her.

Freddy interrupted me. “Two subs?”

I bit my bottom lip and gave a casual shrug with an indulgent smile painted across my face.

“You got and held down two subs all yourself? Amber I am impressed.” He complimented me and I smiled wider. Throughout this conversation of me telling him stories and talking to him about the awful kinky stuff I got up to without him we had gotten closer together. Knees were touching, hands roaming casually, both of us laughing and smiling and fuck it felt so good, so familar and normal and needed. I missed him, missed this way too much. I felt flush and happy and excited to be here with him.

“What can I say Freddy? You taught me well, gave me a lot of ammunition, it was fun to try on the role and see it from your side.”

And again what I didn’t say, it was a good distraction.

Amanda. Or Manda as we decided to call her as my submissive during scenes, she wanted a name of her own, she said it helped her headspace during those times and who was I to deny her when she was so cute when she begged for it, was fun. Her and I would masturbate together, she felt like she didn’t know herself well enough, her body well enough and she wanted to know herself better, wanted me to teach her so I agreed. I was dominant but not to the same extent that I was with Mark. Don’t get me wrong here sometimes I could still be down right mean and unfair to her too but not to the same extant.

“C’mon you can grind better than that! Work for it Manda.” I said it lightly, smiling and with a laugh, I was close to her, watching her struggle and grind on the arm of my couch. She was pretty like this, covered in sweat and panting and ruined all for me. “I-I’m trying!”

“Awe are you?” I said it with a playful pout and twisting a lock of my hair as I watched her.

It wasn’t always like that with her. We actually became friends, we would have lunch and dinners and go out shopping. It was just sometimes the kink would bleed into those times. Like now when I had her in the changing room of a fairly nice clothing store, she was bent over, suction cup dildo on the wall, backing herself onto it, I had my back on the opposite wall, leaning there as I watched her slide it inside of herself, letting out a soft moan as she did. “You have to be quiet.”

“I know that!” she whisper-yelled. I gave her a pointed look, arms crossed as I said sternly: “Watch your tone, Manda.”

Her eyes wide with fear, she mumbled a sorry and my expression softened and I smiled. “Alright fine...Well what are you waiting for? Start riding.”

She did so. See, Amanda like me didn’t have much experience with toys, well, I had more experience by this point, I went pretty hard with my ‘investment’ those few months back and had a good time getting to know the in’s and out’s of using them.

She was good at quieting her moans but she had a much harder time with keeping her hands still. She was using them on the wall to support herself as she backed up, hands hitting the wall whenever she hit a particularly good spot. “Stop that.”

“Sto-stop what?”

“Hitting the wall. You want to get caught?”

She bit her lip, that look, fuck she was into that idea and of course I was too, she nodded and whispered her apology. She did it once more, accidentally, an apologetic look was thrown to me and I gave a nod that I accepted it. However when she did it again a minute later with a moan I took the one step needed forward to grip her hair, I forced her to look at me, her hips stopped and she let out a quiet gasp when our eyes met, I spoke harshly and low to her, “I said. Stop. That. Fuck, Manda. You can’t even follow one simple little command?”

My other hand came up, fingers in her hair, hard grip, she winced, her hands came up, covering mine, I swear I could almost hear how hard her heart was pounding. With my grip on her I pushed her back, she stifled her moan well as she was filled again and I smirked.

“Such a little slut. Getting fucked in public and loving it.”

As I held her like this I think of him again, of how I wish I were in her position and he was in mine. That he was leading me and making me do this, I said the things to her I wish he would to me if this scenario was different with him and I instead and I feel the power I imagine he would in this moment. I control her and push her and I revel in both things simultaneously, the fantasy, the what if I was where she was right now with him and the actual reality I am currently in, my position of power over her. I watch on as she writhes and melts and moans for me and me alone. I pulled her forward and pushed her back hard again, a strained moan leaving her throat and I did it again, another and again and her eyes rolled back and I whispered to her.

“Now shut up and take it.”

I ended up having to put the hem of her shirt in her mouth to help her shut up, she came hard, she would have fallen if it were not for me holding her up, I made her clean her mess off the toy and made her carry it in her purse the rest of the day. Whenever she reached in her purse for something and her fingers would brush against it she would flush and I would smirk.

I really did love spoiling her. I loved to see her cum and I loved to see her getting to know herself better and better as we played together.

Amanda knew about Mark. And Mark knew about Amanda. Not their names though. They were both aware I had the other, to Amanda, Mark was simply him, or good boy or M and to Mark, Amanda, was similarly her or good girl or A. I liked the fact that they didn’t know much of each other, but sometimes I would tell them about the other. What I didn’t expect was the jealousy that would bloom from doing so.

“Why don’t I get a pet name?” I looked up from the rope work I was doing on his wrists and looked at him. “Fucking excuse me?”

“She got one. You won’t even tell me what it is but she got one, you only ever call me by my name, why don’t I get one?” I laughed and finished up the last knot as I looked back down. “You think you deserve a pet name, huh?”

“Yes I do. I was here first you know. You were seeing me for six months before she even showed up so yeah I feel I have the right to one.” God he could be so whiny when he got into one of these moods. He needs a reminder of his place.

I tugged on the ropes and looked up to him, a silent question asking if they were okay and not too tight, he gave a nod, I smiled at the silent interaction, he was well trained. I gripped the ropes hard and yanked, he fell out of his chair, he was on his back, I stood, my heel came down onto his throat, not hard, but steady pressure. Another blissful memory recalled of when he did this to me. I spoke harshly to the man struggling below me.

“You think that just because you were here first you are ENTITLED to a pet name? Mark where are your manners? Speaking to me in that tone.” I put a hand on my hip and shook my head with a scoff as I looked down on him. “You aren’t entitled to shit. You get what I decide you are worthy of getting. Understood?”

He was achingly hard in seconds and he melted under me, a nod as his breath caught, and I smiled. “Good boy.”

Her jealousy was made apparent one day during a harder scene. She said she felt I went too easy on her and wanted to try something more intense and I tentatively agreed. She was struggling hard when I looked over at her. “Manda. Talk to me. Are you okay?” I asked.

She said she was ‘fine’ through gritted teeth and was refusing to look at me. I knew she was lying. I spoke clearly and firmly. “Are you sure? Don’t lie to me.” She let out a whine and shook her head before saying her safeword. I immediately stopped. Toy turned off, scissors picked up, ropes cut, she was crying.

“Talk to me when you feel you can.” I said it with concern tinting my words and then the tears really started flowing, she choked out. “I’m sorry!”

“For what?” I scoffed.

She wiped her eyes with the backs of her hands, and sniffed before answering. “Being a disappointment.”

That was infuriating. “Excuse me?”

“I bet M never safewords. He’s a better sub than I am.”

Oh hell fucking no, I will not tolerate that shit.

“Amanda.”

That got her attention, tears slowed, she looked at me, it was a little shocking to me that simply adding the first letter back onto her name had such an effect on her and how taking it away would get to her so badly. When I said her full name she knew I was serious, she listened.

“You using your safeword isn’t disappointing me. If you needed to use it and didn’t THAT would disappoint me. What we do is great and fun but there is danger in it, you could get hurt if you aren’t honest, this is based on trust. I trust YOU to tell ME when something is wrong so I don’t hurt you, okay? You aren’t a disappointment because you have softer limits.”

I did feel that way. She fulfilled a different need than Mark, she was allowed to be different than him, I liked her for her. "Being a good sub isn't about how long you can handle denial, or how much pain and punishment you can take, okay?"

I held my arms out and she hugged me, I lifted her up and she held tighter, I brought her over to the couch and sat down with her in my lap. “You aren’t a disappointment.”

I was smaller and shorter than her but surprisingly stronger, another way I got my frustrations out as of late was by way of exercise, I had become quite invested in working out my anger.

I stroked her hair and comforted her. It was surprisingly intimate but it was needed. I did feel something for her, affection and a kind of platonic love, the kind you have for a friend, she was upset and I was comforting her, and that was it. “You okay?”

“I’m okay.” She finally gave in and I let out a sigh, face in her hair as I held her a little tighter. “Good.”

Freddy stopped me then. “Wait.”

“What is it, Fred?”

He was looking at me closely, we were still sitting practically pressed together, his non gloved hand came up, thumb on my chin. “Open your mouth.” he uttered. The tone he said it with was wonderful. I bit my bottom lip for a moment before opening my mouth for him and he smiled. “A tongue stud? That’s new.”

I stuck my tongue out to give him a good look before closing my mouth again and laughing a little. “Yeahhhh not the only new one either.”

“Oh?”

“Got my belly button done too. Actually let me tell you about that-”

See Amanda really liked my piercings, she liked the story of my birthday and when my birthday rolled around I was upset. I was missing him. A year prior I was with him and experiencing some of the best times possible, the best times of my young life. I used to hate my birthday and he changed that. So when I was turning from 26 to 27 I missed him, Amanda and Mark helped distract me. Mark got me a great gift and took me out for lunch and Amanda took me out after work.

“I have a surprise for you!” Her and I’s arrangement when this happened was very new and fresh, I was intrigued by what she might have in mind. She walked me into a tattoo and piercing parlor. “I think we should keep this tradition going!”

“What tradition?”

“What he got you for your birthday last year! Let’s get you another piercing! I want to get one too, we can do it together!” I laughed and shrugged. “You know what? Sure. Fuck it.”

I settled on my tongue and she on her nose. Her and I were waiting to go to the back. “Hey, so he gave you that one-” she began as she gestured vaguely below my waist, “-but when you did you get those done?” she asked, gesturing to my chest.

“Oh funny story. So when I was in college some friends were rushing a sorority, they had a list of tasks and one was to get a tattoo or piercing, my friend was really nervous, like really, really nervous and she asked me to come with her. Me coming with her evolved to me agreeing to get something done with her so she’d be less scared.”

I laughed before going on. “I decided on doing something ‘worse’ and ‘crazier’ than her to help put her at ease. So I did something I always wanted to do and got my nipples pierced. I just always liked how they looked and with the opportunity in front of me I thought it was the perfect time.”

“You’re so impulsive. I wish I could be like that.” I laughed again before nudging her. “What do you think this is? This isn’t impulsive?”

“Not as much as what you do. I mean in general, in life, you are so impulsive.”

She wasn’t wrong. I was a very impulsive person, I lived in the moment constantly, chasing momentary bliss, I was getting out of that slowly though. I was becoming less and less content with just running, only truly existing moments of pleasure and depravity, you can’t just subsist on sex, a whole life cannot be built on just that, right?

The piercing hurt in a satisfying way, Amanda cried when she got her nose done, she said she couldn’t help it and laughed. We went out and got a drink, mine was non alcoholic with waaaaay too much ice and it was so soothing.

Amanda was the one who suggested it. “You miss him still.” I looked up from what I was doing, we were having a girls night, no kink, just a sleepover as friends, I was painting her toenails when she said it matter of factly. I sighed and looked back down to my task. “Yes I do.”

“And you really don’t know what happened to him?”

“Nope.” It was quiet then. Until she spoke again. “Why don’t you check those forums where you found out about him?”

Something I genuinely hadn’t considered till this point. I did the next day. I was shocked and curious.

No new posts in months. The newest ones were people asking what had happened to him.

“He was pursuing me very aggressively. I was sure he would kill me but one night he stopped showing up?”

“Tried the ritual, didn’t work, what did I do wrong?”

“No sign of him.”

He…

He wasn’t just avoiding me. He was avoiding everyone? He was just…

Gone.

I wished I had information on his other girls. The other rotation of his main girls that he let me meet but all I got were first names and nothing else, and they didn’t post on the forums, they weren’t like me, didn’t go hunting or seek him out. They met ‘organically’ in the way he met all of this other playthings and it escalated from there. But after reading this, he probably wasn’t still seeing them, they would probably know as little as I did, I doubt any of them were as fucked up over the loss as I was though.

I didn’t know what to do with that information. I didn’t know how to handle or process it. Did this make it better or worse?

Worse. I had no idea where he was or what he was doing and neither did anyone else. It fucked with me. Hard. When I tried the ritual to see if I could pull him to me and it failed, that messed with me even harder.

I tried the ritual every night and it failed every time for two weeks straight before I gave up. I tried to fall harder into what I had with Manda and Mark to forget. It didn’t work very well. Another good idea, suggested by Manda one night. “You are so good at storytelling.”

“Thanks, Manda.”

“No, no really I mean it! You should write this story down! You said you wrote some of it a while back yeah? Why not write the rest and post it on the forums like you did before?”

It was an intriguing idea. I had written some stuff before about our hookups. They were short little things, nothing much but the more I thought about it the more I liked it.

Maybe if I wrote down everything we did, everything he did to me and what happened I could finally get it out of my system. Maybe it wouldn’t weigh so heavily on me. So I did.

“You wrote about what we did?”

I laughed and nodded.

“Yeah. All of it. That reminds me actually...There is this girl, we talk sometimes, she is a big fan. Gave me her name once, Elise, I think it would be fun if you paid her a visit sometime.”

“Look at you, even after all this time, picking out new playthings for me. So sweet.”

He paused before adding to it. “Such a naughty thing. Like the thought of everyone knowing what a little whore you are?”

I flushed slightly. I know, I know what you are thinking: “Amber, he has said much worse, called you much worse, why is him casually calling you a whore getting to you now?”

It is getting to me now precisely because it has been so long. When we were seeing each other regularly it was like I built up a small tolerance. It still felt great, I still loved it and was turned on by it but after so long apart hearing it now had such an effect on me. I felt exposed, vulnerable, and strikingly, shockingly aroused, my thighs pressed closer together, his fingers found my hair and played with it casually as I responded to him. “Yeah I love it.”

“Course you do. Bet you talk with that little friend of yours about all the ways I had you. I bet she wants me to have her the same way.” He said with a smile and tugged gently on a lock of my hair before saying. “I really like your hair like this.”

“Mmm?” I hummed questioningly, face still flushed, mind still running wild with dirty thoughts, being so close to him like this was a reminder once again of the hold he had on me, still after all this time. He had just such a presence, being near him like this turned me on terribly, negative emotions and previous pain were slowly peeling away when I was talking to him, getting it out there and off of my chest was helping immensely. The more I shared the better I felt, the more ready I felt, the more I wanted to forget every night spent sobbing over her, every little moment of anger and of doubt because fuck it he was here now and it had been far too long since I had him here with me, I was succeeding in forgetting.

I used to have shoulder length hair when he was around, kept it that way with trims a few times a year but since he left I hadn’t gotten any haircuts. I just let it grow and grow, it fell midway down my back now. He tugged again as he said, “Yeah. Gives me a lot more to grab onto.”

Fuck. I forgot about how hot I was for a moment as I pressed on with sharing.

As I continued along with Mark and Manda I wrote and recounted about what we did. It was easy at first, simple, fun, hot to recall what we once had. As I went along I got better at writing, as I approached hotter times, and memories that were closer to the time he left, fresher memories, I wrote more, longer, better stories. I posted and there was interest. People followed and commented and I felt better, some much needed positivity to all of this that helped keep those memories sweet and enjoyable to recall.

I told him so much that night. I filled him in on a lot of stuff. I didn’t tell him quite everything, Manda, Mark and I did get up to a lot but I decided on two more tales to tell him.

“I-I’ve never felt-God haaa- this way before-” Amanda moaned it to me. I had her forehead pressed to mine, one hand on the back of her neck, I was holding a wand vibe in position for her, she was grinding herself on it, panting, eyes closed.

“Hmm like what Manda?” I asked it amusedly, watching her intently, she was a fun thing to play with, I saw parts of myself in her, a big reason why I liked this thing I had with her, it was easier to fantasize I was in her position when we had so much in common.

“Thi-this hot. This desirable- ah- and-”

“And?”

“And- this attracted to someone-” I felt her try to lean forward and my hand gripped the back of her neck hard to stop her. I pulled back a bit myself.

“Ah-ah! You know the rules. No kissing.” She groaned and I laughed. “I thought you were straight anyway?” I asked in a teasing tone and she huffed before saying, “I am!”

“Mmm sure, sure. Wanting to make out with the woman who is currently holding the vibrator you are getting off on is totally something straight girls do.”

I slipped my hand from the back of her neck around to the front. I gripped her throat hard and pushed her down so her back was on the couch, I repositioned with the motion so I was on top of her, kneeling over her, I pressed the toy down harder making her moan louder for me.

“I-I am straight! Really!” I laughed in response. “Yeah Manda. So is spaghetti until it gets hot and wet.”

She groaned at my terrible joke, I felt a small sense of pride, I bet in that moment that Freddy would like my little joke, as I recounted it for him, he did. I made her cum hard on the couch that night and she didn’t bring up kissing me again. Though sometimes I could see her staring at my mouth and I knew she was thinking about it.

A different night, a late night, months and months into this thing with Mark while I had Amanda on the side.

“It’s been so long since I’ve gotten fucked.” I mused out loud. My feet up on the coffee table, my head laying against the backrest of the couch, staring up at my ceiling when I said it, a glass of wine casually gripped in my hand. Mark perked up and looked over to me. “I need to get fucked.”

“Re-really?”

“Yes.” My head lolled to the side, I looked to him. “Maybe you can help me with that.”

“Are you kidding me?” I put my feet flat on the floor and sat up straighter as I took a sip of my wine. “No I am not.”

Too good to be true Mark? Well that is because it is but he didn’t know that yet. “Oh my Go-Wait is this a trick? Like if I agree then you will fuck me-”

I laughed before cutting him off. “I wouldn’t trick you into that Mark. We both know if I wanted it I could make you BEG me to peg you. No, no I swear I would be the one getting penetrated if you agreed.”

He rushed over to the couch and I held up a finger making him pause. “If you agree you have to promise me something.”

“Anything.”

“The rule is still in effect. You have to last long enough, hold out long enough so I can get off before you do.”

He never agreed to anything quicker. So that is how we ended up here. Him unlocked and tied down below me, me on top of him, thick, hardness filling me, moans spilling from my mouth, fucking God it felt good. He sounded so good, he was groaning and crying, it sounded wonderful to me at that moment.

“How long’s it been for you Mark?”

“Sin-since before oh God, before we started this-” He sounded so strained it was perfect but if it truly had been over a year since he had felt anything other than his own hand or a toy on himself I could see why. I rolled my hips forward and gasped as I brushed over that perfect spot inside of myself.

“I fuc-fuckin’ hate you.” He breathed through gritted teeth and I laughed, it broke off at the end in a moan. This was probably the meanest thing I have ever done. I was getting fucked alright, I was getting penetrated for sure, but not by Mark.

See, I had him unlock himself before I had tied him down, and then I ignored his cock completely. I was riding a trusty dildo of mine that I had secured to him, his poor achingly hard dick was getting no contact at all as I found my pleasure on top of him.

Moaning and grinding and bouncing up and down, completely naked on top of him, giving him the experience of what it would be like to fuck me but without actually doing anything for him. Well that isn’t true. I was doing plenty to him, riling him up, frustrating him endlessly, teasing him relentlessly.

“I’m close.” I breathed to him and I made him look at me as I found my end. It was the closest I had felt to satisfaction since he had been gone but it still fell short. I was breathing hard, fingers ran through my hair, I looked down at him, his face was wet and he looked so damn embarrassed.

“Awe what’s wrong Mark, didn’t you have fun? I know you might be upset but I said I was going to get fucked, not you, that I was going to get penetrated, I never said it would be by you.” I got up and surveyed the scene and realized why he had that look on his face. I laughed and looked down at him.

“Mark...Did you really cum from that?” I smiled warmly and continued. “I never even touched you! Look at you! So wound up, so denied, so perfectly submissive you came from just the situation alone.”

I laughed again as I crouched down, I turned his chin so he was looking at me in the eyes and I said with a gesture of my free hand. “Look Ma, no hands!” I taunted playfully and he finally laughed too at my terrible little joke. “Give me your color.”

“Green.” I started to release the ropes as I asked in that same playfully teasing tone. “Super green?”

“Yes, super green.” He confirmed with another laugh. The color system was so helpful with him and Manda. Green means everything is fine, good, better than good it was great. Yellow meant be careful, slow down, I am approaching my limit and red was stop, obviously.

Once he was untied and cleaned up we were both sitting on the couch. He looked at me and held his hand out, I smiled and took his hand before looking forward again. It was an intense scene, I was unsurprised that he needed some physical contact and I allowed it easily. We were sitting together, it was quiet and nice. He spoke up. “Why do you still wear that?”

“Wear what?”

“The necklace.” He said looking over to me, eyes meeting mine and I sighed. “Why do you care?”

Another moment of quiet. “Because I care about you...It’s been over a year. Why are you still so hung up on him?”

I let go of his hand and crossed my arms over my chest. I didn’t want to have this conversation, or rather I didn’t want to have this fight.

“Amber.” I said nothing, my legs crossed and I was looking away from him, still not wanting to play into this and he said firmly, “Amber, fucking talk to me.”

That was it.

“You want me to talk?” I looked back to him as I started. “You want me to fucking talk? Sure Mark. I will talk. Listen here, what I wear, necklace or otherwise isn’t your business. How I feel about him, whether I am ‘over’ him or not ISN’T YOUR business! The relationship he and I have isn’t your business!”

“Have? Don’t you mean had?” he said it with a scoff and laughed, and that’s when I saw red.

So much red that I said it. “Red.”

He stopped, he at least had the good sense to look like he felt guilty and I spoke up again. “I think I want to stop this.”

“What?”

“This. Between us. You have feelings for me. Have for a while and we can’t keep doing this. This setup was predicated on the idea that it would be casual, friends, and I know you want more than that. I don’t want to hurt you, okay?”

I got up and pulled my robe tighter on my body as I strode to the kitchen. “Amber you can’t do this.” I hate being told what to do, anger spikes again as I spoke to him.

“Huh. Pretty fucking sure I can. I can safeword anytime just like you can. I can choose to end this anytime just like you can. Just because I am the dom in this doesn’t mean I don’t get the same right to refuse that you do.” 

I poured another glass of wine for myself and Mark spoke up now. “I can’t believe you! Here I am, a real, living, breathing, human man, someone who actually cares, who gives a fuck, who is real and here in front of you and you are still pining after some monster who lives only in your dreams!”

I set the glass down so hard the stem snapped. The glass tipped over and shattered, red spreading over the counter top, some of it splattered the front of my robe, I didn’t care as I looked at him through my tears.

“I want you to leave. Now.”

Mark stood up from the couch and glared. “Why him?”

“What?!”

“What is so great about him? Why not me?”

I ran my hand over my face and sighed. I can’t believe this is fucking happening. “Why him? Mark if you don’t know by now why I picked him than you don’t fucking know me.” I took off the charm bracelet and threw it across the space between us to him, it slid across the floor.

“I still want to be your friend Mark. I do. But holy fucking shit I am not going to be anything more. I am not your fucking dom, I am not your key holder, I am not anything like that anymore.” I wanted to say more. I wanted to remind him of every little thing I told him, of every small reason why I picked Freddy, of why I was still his. Instead I just said: “Fuck. Off.”

He looked like he wanted to say more but didn’t. He collected his stuff and I as I watched him about to leave.

I softened slightly and I said it. “I’m going to move. That promotion Emma offered in that other city? I’m taking it.”

He turned to look at me and I continued before he could. “Not because of what just happened. But because I think I need it. I need to get out of here. I need a change.”

At the time I didn’t want to admit he was right. I felt that maybe I should let go, move on, but if I stayed here in the same place with Mark and Manda and constantly just reliving old memories I would never move past this. Never get over this. As much as it hurt I knew he was right and I couldn’t just keep living this way forever. I need to plan a future, not live in the past.

“It’s nothing you did. Or her, that other sub, it’s nothing she did either. I just need it. I hope you understand.”

He left that night and a week later at work he pulled me into the stockroom again. “I’m happy for you. I’m proud of you. I think you are right, I think the move will be good for you.”

He looked like he wanted to say something else,

“And?” I asked him and he sighed, looking away before speaking again. “And I’m sorry for what I said. It was out of line. It is your life, not mine, I have no say in it.”

I let myself smile, my arms uncrossed and I looked up to him as I said in that usual mocking and teasing tone. “I guess I can forgive you.”

We shared a laugh and it was quiet for a moment before I apologized too.

Amanda was understanding too, she hugged me when I told her and made promises of coming to visit when I was settled in my new place.

The last month I spent there was just with friends. Not my submissives, I spent my time packing and planning and bidding the city I spent my entire adult life in so far goodbye.

My last week there Amanda and I had tickets to a concert we had bought months earlier. A mutual friend bailed on us so we had an extra ticket and that is when I got an idea.

“I know who to bring.”

“Yeah? Cool okay, bring whoever, if you know them they will be cool I am sure.”

That night at the concert I introduced Mark and Amanda. It took until the end of the night for them to realize it.

“Wait! Is-is he...M?” she whisper-yelled to me and I snort laughed from the look of recognition on Mark’s face as he realized. “Oh God fuckin-Is she A?”

“Yes! Christ! You two are idiots, I swear. I thought when I introduced you two as Mark and Amanda that you two would get it, you’ve been talking and hanging for hours now!”

The rest of the night was hilarious. They both knew horribly dirty things the other had said, intimate details and kinks that I shared with each other, all with consent of course and now here they were thrust together. I figured them meeting was a good thing, I was leaving, they could have and comfort each other with me gone, both had something to relate to each other over. Over me, over kink, over Freddy.

I moved that next week.

The next six months of my life were interesting in a different way. New city, new job, being a boss over an office that was similar to the one I just left, new responsibilities, new apartment, a very nice one too.

I still wrote and still wore my necklace on Friday nights. My only real indulgences with sex and kink were writing, and indulging in masturbation and my toys.

I lost myself in the usual day to day bullshit of life and that was fine.

Really it was.

I wasn’t as sad but some days were still hard and difficult. Some days I cried. Some days I missed him terribly. Some days I re-read what I wrote and reminisced and wished I could go back. Some days I didn’t think of him once. My birthday where I turned from 27 to 28 was lonely. I got my bellybutton pierced, my office employees got me a card and a cake and I went out for dinner by myself. I got dressed up for myself and talked myself into extra dessert and a drink because fuck if I didn’t need and deserve it.

I ran out of things to write about at chapter thirty-two of this story. There were other things he and I did, other stories to tell but the motivation wasn’t there. After over two years I felt so far removed from it by this point. It all felt far away to be honest.

And now.

We are caught up. To here. To now. To tonight with him, dear reader.

“So what happened with Mark and Amanda?”

“I’m still in touch with them, we talk and text all the time. They um, started dating a few months back, seems like it is going well.”

“No shit.”

It was quiet for a moment and I looked at him, that damn smug smirk. “I know what you are wondering and they are both switches apparently. They take turns but she tops him way more than he does her.”

“Fucking knew it!” We laughed over it, I did love them both and was happy for them getting together, it just made sense for them.

“That’s it. That’s what happened while you were gone.”

“Busy two years. A lot has happened.”

“Mmm.” I hummed with a nod as I finished the last mouthful in my glass again.

I set the glass down and my hand fell to his knee, I was still having a hard time believing he was here. I just kept reaching out at points during our conversation to touch him, make sure he was really here, that I could really feel him.

I wanted to feel more of him.

I got up on my knees, I pulled myself forward and slid into his lap so I was straddling him, my arms fell around his shoulders, hands behind his neck.

“I really missed you.”

“Hmm missed you too.” His hands found my hips and I leaned down, I kissed him for the second time that night and he kissed me back. Another quiet conversation between the two of us, like secrets passed between us in between the building make out session.

“So there was no one else?”

“No, no one else.”

“I can’t believe that.”

He bit my bottom lip and I let out a soft moan before another deep kiss and I responded. “It’s true.” I sat back on his lap as I looked into his eyes before I spoke again. “I tried to forget about you but I couldn’t. I tried to date a bit in my new city but there was no spark with anyone, no one makes me feel like you do.”

“Always so honest, Amber.”

I chuckled softly. “You want honest Fred? How about I didn’t kiss anyone for two years, no one else touched me in any way that mattered, and certainly no one else had me the way you have had me before. Since we started this so long ago there hasn’t been anyone else. How is that for honest?”

“Two years though, Amber? You were good and loyal and waited for two fucking years?”

I nodded and bit my lower lip. I mean how could I do anything else? He ruined me.

Destroyed me from the inside fucking out, all I wanted was him, even when I had a very hot man and woman totally devoted to me, naked and spread out before me and fucking BEGGING me at points for me to touch them at all, even just hold their damn hands or give them a simple kiss on the cheek all I thought about, all I wanted was him.

“I really was.” He knew I wasn’t lying, why would I afterall? I had no reason to lie to him about this, none, nothing to gain. “I need this.”

“I know you do.”

“I want to go back.”

“After what happened there? Are you sure?” He understood now why I brought him to my old apartment, where I had so much power and control, where I exercised it in that dominant persona but I didn’t want that now, didn’t want to be in control or feel that power, I needed it to be like old times. I needed to be submissive and under him and take it and lose myself in the way I used to. “Yes, please.”

He pulled me closer with his hands on my hips and he kissed me again before whispering into my ear. “I fucking love how you say please.”

My old apartment fell away, I kissed him again, deeply, hips rolling forward, I moaned against his mouth when I felt how hard he was. There was no hope of stopping once we got started. I was wet and hot and bothered from remembering all of these things I did, from vocalizing them and from how much he liked it.

When I was talking and telling the stories he encouraged me, hands touching me in light teasing ways, telling me how much he wished he could have seen some of it. I felt like I was on fire already.

When I pulled away we were back.

Back in that familiar room. “You sure it’s okay?”

I nodded in response and paused. “I’m sick of the bad memories I made here without you. Let’s replace them with some better ones.”

God did he ever give me what I wanted.

See, I might have been a little over confident. All of my sexual interactions over the past two years I was in charge completely. I felt confident in that role, a good little mean denial bitch who forgot something important, that he is in control, that I am a submissive at my very core and that I was utterly helpless against him when he took control.

It was hard to want to move on to something else, I had no idea how much I had missed kissing, a good hot and steamy make out session, taking my time. Feeling his hands on me, touching him in return, small grinds and moans and breaths. I am unsure of how long it lasted, all I know is that I was gasping and red faced by the end of it, lips were kiss bruised and I was sweating, my panties were fucking destoryed, his hands on my hips, I was grinding on him, hands on his shoulders as I did so.

Was it always like this? This intense and insanely hot? Was it always this hard to think when I was in his lap?

He had his mouth on my neck and I breathed out his name, fingers digging into his shoulders, a particularly good grind making me gasp.

“I-I need to taste you-”

“Yeah? Poor little Amber, you feeling cock hungry?”

“Yes, God yes, please-”

His hands let go of my hips and I slid down his body, I came to rest on my knees between his legs, my hands were shaking too badly to free him and he chuckled slightly. “Alright, alright, calm down, let me.”

I moaned when I saw it again. Jesus I wasted no time. Hands on his inner thighs as I leaned in, my tongue ran up his length and my eyes rolled back at it.

I am a slut. That is the real take away from this, dear reader. But I am not just any slut, oh no, I am HIS slut.

That is what is important, that is why you are reading this, are interested and invested in this, that is what sets me apart and makes me special. He deems me worthy of him. I poured everything I had into this. Two years worth of longing and wanting and waiting and need. So much damn need it was stupid.

I was on my knees before him, it was as if I was praying but instead of words of hope and thankfulness and wants for things for myself or my family I was here on my knees using my mouth to pour my worship for him by way of the pleasure I gave.

I could feel myself dripping as I took him all the way to the back of my throat. I moaned around his length when I pulled back up, I sunk back down again and pulled up, over and over, losing myself in the motion, his hand in my hair guiding me, fucking into my mouth. It was so fun too, the first time I was giving oral since I had gotten that tongue stud, it was so fun trying out different things with it and seeing what reactions I could pull from him. What would make him grip harder, or moan louder or thrust harder into my mouth. He spoke low just to me, filth filling my ears, a sharp exhale out of my nose, it felt crazy that this, pleasing him, was already doing more to satisfy me than any masturbation session I had in the past two years. Not in a physical sense but a mental one, an emotional one, one that satiated my deeply held need to be submissive. That particular need hadn’t been satisfied in ages and it felt so good, so fucking amazing.

“So good to me Amber. So loyal and honest and trusting.”

I moaned around him again before he pulled me off of him. “Mmm just a little longer?” I asked as I looked up to him.

“No, no it’s my turn now, get back up here,” he chuckled. I couldn’t say no to that. I climbed up and with his hand still in my hair he pulled me forward, a hard kiss again. His non-gloved hand found me soaked, fingers dragged over the sodden fabric covering my clothed slit and I moaned against his mouth.

It had been far too long since anyone had touched me like this. Since anyone other than myself had touched me at all. He teased me like that, slowly, he made me stay standing on my knees as he played with me, my thighs were trembling already, fingers hooked into the wet fabric and he ripped them from me. Another pulse of heat that takes my breath, fuck he was so strong and it was amazing whenever he showed off how much stronger he was then me.

I pulled myself closer to him, my forehead resting on his shoulder as I tried and failed to steady my breathing, he rubbed my clit making me moan his name before two fingers slipped inside of me, I whimpered and gripped his sweater harder. The edge hit me so fast, fingers thrusting in and out of me, his palm pressing closely, pressure was so sweet on my clit, he had only been touching me for mere minutes and I was going to come undone already. “Stop! I-I’m close-” my head came up as I breathed it out to him, but he didn’t stop or slow.

“Oh I know I can feel it. You’re clenching so fuckin’ hard right now.”

My hips rocked forward as he bit down on the side of my throat, I clenched again, I moaned out. “No-o-o I-I want to cum on yo-your cock, please?”

He laughed darkly, another bite and I moaned again as he replied. “You will Amber, promise, but you were so good. Waiting so long, two years just for me, I gotta reward you, gonna make you cum for me again and again.”

I was right there, teetering on the edge. “Please?”

“Good girls like you don’t need to ask.”

I didn’t need to be told twice.

I didn’t think.

I didn’t say anything.

All I did in that moment was feel. The weight that left me, the relief and the joy and the pleasure of it all, it was just so fucking unreal. To be here again with him like this, open mouthed kisses and bites on my neck as he had two fingers stuffed inside of me, cumming so fucking hard I couldn’t breathe, couldn’t make a single sound again all I could do was feel as I rode it out, body shaking in his grip.

I registered he was talking to me on my come down, praise washing over me, he told me I was so fucking good and so hot and how he was going to fuck me so good, so soon he just needed me to be a little patient with him.

He slid his fingers out of me and I groaned at the loss, eyes opened back up and I looked into his eyes, those same fingers came up and he sucked them clean, he made such a pleased sound at the taste. “Fuck, I missed this.”

I was pulled onto his lap again, straddling one of his thighs, he led me, kissed me, hands ran over me, he made me grind on him, ride his thigh. I came embarrassingly quickly for a second time only minutes after that first orgasm, I moaned his name and had the fleeting thought during the aftershocks of my orgasm wondering if it was possible for a human being to spontaneously combust from being so hot and bothered, while I may not have actually been on fire, it certainly felt that way.

“So sensitive. So receptive, Amber.”

He picked me up easily, he walked me over to the centre of the room, down those steps, one, two, three and down we went, my back hitting the soft familiar sunken bed. Soft blankets and pillows, it was amazing how just having him, the true him here made me love this bed again, made me revel in the sheets, my arms stretched above my head as I soaked in the feeling.

“Get this off of you.” The nightie I had worn to bed that night was pulled off, I was completely bare before him now, only thing left was that necklace and nothing else. I wanted him to fuck me already but he had other plans. He got between my legs and with the first press of his mouth to my clit any words of protest died on my lips and were replaced by moans and his name over and over again.

I almost feel these descriptions are too quick but I was mostly thoughtless during these moments, all of my brain power went to feeling and enjoying and cataloging, just trying to commit every moment to memory. I let out a gasp, his hands cradled my hips, I felt his glove and the mere feeling of that made me pulse again, my back arched and I lost myself once again in him. His pace was steady and left me panting and incoherent, it had been far, far too long without feeling the distinct pleasure of his mouth or any mouth really on me in this fashion.

“How did I manage to go two years without this?” The thought in my head clear before the next one took its place, “This is why!”

For how astonishingly good his mouth felt, for the arcing electricity that ran through me as he took his time eating me, for the sweet reward of him lavishing me with this wonderful kind of particular and specialized attention.

My third orgasm of the night crept up on me and overtook me beautifully, it was one of those climaxes that can only be described as perfect. You know the ones, where the pleasure starts slowly and there aren’t any peaks or valleys, it takes its time and it builds and builds in just one steady arc, one climb and one second you aren’t and the next you are, you are weak and trembling and cumming all for whomever or whatever is providing those feelings to you.

A forearm thrown over my eyes, chest heaving, I was weak and panted out my words. “Puh-puh-lease?”

I sounded terribly pathetic as I felt the bed move and felt him get up, his hands stayed on my hips, thumbs stroked over my hip bones, he helped lift me a little bit and then he was between my thighs.

The first thrust inside made me cry out, arm pulled away from my face by him. My gaze up, he was holding inside of me to the base, my heart had never beat harder.

I wish I could begin to accurately describe how powerful this moment was. How much it affected me. How it hit me. I was here. He was here. It was grounding, looking up into his eyes, being made to look up at him as his hips pulled back and drove forward again.

Typically I was louder than he was. Moans and keens and breathing so hard, he was talkative, of course, he loved to make my need worse by dirty talking to me as he fucked me but this was all getting to him too. When he moaned for me I would clench down on him, thighs would close tighter, I would feel the need to touch him. I needed something more. I had to ask, my hand over his on my hip, I felt his glove when I asked, “Cut me.”

“What?” he asked. I repeated myself, more emphatically. “C’mon. Cut me, hurt me, please?”

“No, no I won’t. You were so good-” This was surprising to me. I thought he liked hurting me just as much as I liked being hurt by him. This was bad. There was something off, something wrong that he wasn’t saying.

“Why not?” His hips stopped and he held in me and I looked up to him asking again, quieter this time. “Why not?”

“Haven’t I hurt you enough already?”

He had. Even though I didn’t verbalize it much to him, I didn’t need to, he knew how badly I was hurt by him being gone. How much it stung to be left alone, foundering and wondering for two whole years. But all that pain was mental, I needed physical.

“I need this.”

“I’m worried I can’t.”

Him? Worried? Jesus, okay this was serious, he didn’t stop.

“Amber...I-” he sighed and looked away. “My power comes from fear and I have been gone so long, there is no one I’m feeding off of right now, I don’t know if I can hurt you.”

I reached out and took his non gloved hand, he was pulled down a little closer to me as I did so, placing his hand on my chest and I said, “Can’t you feel that?” I closed my eyes and let out a shuddering breath. “I am afraid.”

A pause before I continued.

“I am more afraid than I have ever been in my entire life Freddy. I am afraid that this is a lie again. That you aren’t really here again, that I am by myself, alone in a dream on my own. I am afraid I’m not strong enough to deal with that reality again if that is true. I am so fucking scared that it is real too. That you are here and that I am with you that I am too fucked up, too wrecked to go on without you, that if you are here-”

A deep breath.

“-and it is real that I won’t be able to handle you leaving again. That I am broken. That nothing, fucking nothing, will ever feel this good again. I am terrified of both. Of this being a lie or of this being the truth. If it is a lie I won’t be able to stop myself from the destruction of chasing this feeling, scared of how close my mind was to recreating how it actually felt. If it is the truth then I know if I were to lose you again, I would not be able to bear it and I would have to live with the knowledge I had you and lost you again.”

My eyes opened again, I looked up to him. “Use my fear. Hurt me. I fucking need it. I need the proof because if I wake up again-” I sniffed and continued, “-if I ever fucking wake up again after a night with you to see not a single mark I will go out of my mind. I need it. I need the proof that this is true and real and I am not fucking crazy.”

I was breathing so hard, I was the most stripped down and exposed that I had ever been. I am not surprised to be honest. He isn't used to this brand of fear, the fear I am feeling isn't the fear of death or of pain. It's the fear of loss. Of losing him. His gloved hand moved up and he asked with one simply word,

“Where?”

My hand left his glove and I felt over my collar bone, I traced the line, I couldn’t feel it anymore, it was too faded, but I remember where it was. “Here.”

He chuckled and shook his head slightly. “What’s so funny?” I asked with a smile. “Nothing, that’s just my favorite one I ever carved in you.” I smiled wider. “Mine too.”

He lined it up and that feeling filled me. Cold steel sliding so easily through hot flesh, it hurt and burned in the most gratifying way possible. I savored the pain and the feeling of the blood and the tears that finally fell down my face.

He didn’t hold back after that.

Again I feel foolish, I wish I could describe to you every little moment and sigh and curse and make you feel yourself the ecstasy that it was but I just got so caught up in the feeling of it all.

We fucked and rocked together and I reached my peak twice more stretched around him, he left cuts and nics of varying depths, I was stained red and felt sticky and blissfully uncomfortable laying in my own sweat and blood after he had spilled inside of me. He left hickies and bruises and I was struggling to catch my breath when he finally fell beside me.

My hand found his and I stared up at the ceiling, as it was quiet again. I am unsure who spoke first but we had started talking again.

About us.

“Where do we go from here?” I thought for a moment. I rolled on my side and looked over to him. “What do you mean?”

“Like, where is this heading?”

“Why does it have to go anywhere?” I think that response from me shocked me a little as he rolled on his side to face me better. “You don’t want more?”

“Like what?” His silence said it all and I laughed. “What? Like marriage? Kids?”

“I mean, yeah. Isn't that a thing normal people want?" I laughed harder, so hard I had to catch my breath before replying. “Freddy, who ever said I was normal? And no offense to you, but I don’t want those things. I’ve never wanted kids, can’t even have kids, and I don’t want marriage.” I took his hand in mine again. “Freddy, I spent so much of my life chasing momentary bliss. Not planning for the future, just living for the now. When you left I did a lot of self exploration, I thought about my future, I planned, I have important things I want to do now, but with all of that, all the good it brings, it is hard.”

I looked up at him.

“I miss chasing pleasure and momentary bliss. My life out there is great and I am happy with where I am, truly but there is pressure on me. Why can’t this become that thing I need most? I thought before I needed the escape from my life but I was wrong. I need this much, much more now. I need to come here and be with you and just feel and lose myself in this. That is all I need.”

I didn’t outright say it but I might as well have. All I needed was him. If I could go to bed at night and see him then that is all I need, everything else would work out and be fine, it would give me the peace of mind and help take off the mental load and recharge me, refresh me and give me what I need the most.

I spend so much of my time and my life being in charge and in control so now more than ever I needed a safe place to be myself. And as you very well know by now, I was a needy, submissive, little whore. “And you’re sure about that?”

I pulled closer to him, arm thrown around him as I said, “More sure than I have been about anything Freddy.”

We stayed like that for a long while. Talking easily and casually, it was so fucking nice. “You start working out?”

“Mmm? Yeah. I uhm, I used it as a way to help get anger in frustration out.”

“I can tell, you look mostly the same but I touch you and you aren’t as soft, you got some good muscle under there now. What do you do?” I laughed and buried my face in his chest. “What if I told you I started taking a pole dancing class?”

“I would say you are going to have to show me it sometime.” We both shared another laugh, but his laughter soon faded. “It’s time for you to get up.”

“Ugh noooo. Do I have to?”

“Yes Amber. You’ve been asleep for 12 hours already.”

I pulled back and looked up at him in surprise. “Fuck, really?” He nodded in response and I groaned. “I don’t want to get up yet.”

“You have to,” he said, pulling me into another hug and it was quiet. I was thinking about something. Worried with the thought, curious about how I would deal with it. I was still scared I’d wake up to find this to be false again, I would be going out of my mind for the next while until I saw him next, wondering if it was true.

“When will I see you again?”

“When do you want to?”

“Tonight?”

I asked it like a question and we both laughed again. “Sure.”

“And tomorrow?” He belted out another laugh and he placed a kiss on the top of my head and I pulled closer as I added: “And the day after that?”

“Okay, okay, how about we see each other every night, not all night some nights, but for a little bit, every night until you’re sick of me?”

“It’s a deal.” We shared another kiss before I knew it was really time.

“Night, Fred.” “Night, Amber.”

A snap of his fingers and I was in my own bed. I knew it was my own bed but I didn’t open my eyes. Not yet, I could tell it was morning from the light trying to pour in through my closed lids. I didn’t dare move either.

If I opened my eyes and saw my body unchanged from the state I went to bed in I knew I would be destroyed by it. I was just so fucking scared. I dunno how long I laid there so still but eventually I did move. My hips shifted and I felt it.

My breath caught and my hands slipped under the sheets. Fingertips carefully explored my skin, I pressed tentatively and felt pain. My hands roamed and I felt half dried blood and broken skin and I finally allowed my eyes to open. I flipped back the covers and looked myself over. I was in disbelief as I sat up, my eyes roaming. I spent entirely too long as I traced the new fresh cuts, and the hickies and the bruises, fingers pushing way too hard, enjoying the pain, it felt so real and wonderful.

I fell back onto the bed, arms out at my sides and I fucking laughed.

I’m not fucking crazy.

I laughed and laughed until I cried, I was so fucking happy, so unGodly and terribly, wonderfully happy.

I was going to be okay.

Better than okay, I finally, truly had everything I could ever want. That was over a month ago. He came back that night, and the next and the one after just like he said. I don’t know if it will last forever but that is okay with me. What we have isn't about forever, it is about now and right now I am happy and that is enough.

I feel no need to keep writing although I could.

I kind of like it becoming a secret again, a private little thing between him and I, so please forgive me for keeping the rest of it to myself. I love and appreciate you endlessly dear reader. You were here for me, listened to me during the worst and lowest time of my life when he was gone and I will never forget that.

I hope the knowledge that things are good, better than they have ever been, is a satisfying enough end for you.