Page 49 of Dominic Powers Duet Box Set
“Did she leave a note?” Sophia asks, opening another wound.
I sigh, “Yes, the police found a note. It wasn’t out in the open, but it was somewhere I would’ve found it.”
“What did it say?”
“It’s late, Sophia. I think you should get some sleep,” I try to steer her away from this.
“Please, Dom,” she asks.
Rolling over to my side, I open the top drawer of my nightstand and retrieve the folded note that Carol Ann left behind that fateful day. Holding it for a few seconds, I can almost feel her with me again. It’s the most painful, familiar feeling I’ve ever felt. Without looking at her, I reach behind me to hand Sophia the note to read on her own.
I don’t expect her to read it aloud, but it’s not like I haven’t already memorized every syllable of that handwritten note over the last sixteen months. It’s the only time I’ve ever had photographic memory in my life, and it just happened to be the worst fucking thing that’s happened in my life.
Sir,
I can’t believe we have been together for a whole year. So much has happened in our short time together. I often feel that I’ve brought more sadness than happiness to your life. You have brought me nothing but happiness and I want you to always remember that. No matter what storms have hit, you have been my steadfast rock in the turbulent seas.
Never doubt the good you’ve done for me. Never doubt my appreciation for you. And never doubt my love for you. I’m paralyzed at the thought of losing you and I know I could never live without you. Through all of my problems, it’s been your love that has pulled me through. I love you, My Sir, and there’s nothing about our life together that I regret. I’m sorry for the trouble I’ve caused for you.
Sophia finishes reading and turns the paper over to the other side. Not finding anything else, she asks, “She didn’t sign it?”
“No,” I shake my head and stare at the ceiling.
“I don’t understand. Why wouldn’t she sign it?”
“I don’t know, Sophia. I tore our condo apart looking for else—anythingelse—but there was nothing. Only that incomplete note that doesn’t even really tell me goodbye,” I reply solemnly. “I understand if you don’t trust me to be your Dom, or if you don’t want me to be any longer.”
Sophia launches herself off the bed and directly on top of me. The look of horror on her face speaks volumes and makes me feel a little better about our commitment. Placing her hands on my face, she leans over close to my face and speaks softly, “I trust you with all of me and there will never be a time that I don’t want you to be my Dom. Don’t even joke about that.”
The pain etched in her beautiful eyes gets to me. Just the thought of losing me bothers her tremendously. She lies on my chest, wrapping her lean body around me as if she’s trying to shield me from the world like I did her. I feel the other half of my soul in her. Like a jigsaw puzzle that has been missing a piece, I haven’t felt whole in a very long time. Sophia is the piece of the puzzle that perfects the picture, and as if it was always meant to be, the picture in my mind is the two of us—Sophia and me.
* * *
Over the last six weeks, Sophia and I have become closer than I ever imagined. She spends most of her time at my house now, except Sunday nights, as she still insists on staying alone at her condo. While I do miss her, the time alone gives me a chance to handle other matters without any interruptions. Not that she’s hard to have around—on the contrary. But I can’t do much else, besides her, when she’s here.
We’ve moved way out of the plain vanilla sex realm into truly experimenting with limits and new techniques. Although, as far as vanilla goes, I have had plenty of my favorite kind of cupcake and icing over these past many weeks. I can hardly bear to think about the first time I used the flogger on her without then taking her back to the playroom to have another go at it.
She walked to the padded cross, spread her arms and legs to the restraints, and quietly waited for me to secure her to the furniture. Once she was bound, she had a look of pure satisfaction on her face that must have completely mirrored my own. When I picked up the flogger from its place on the wall, she let out a small gasp and tried to hide the smile playing at the corner of her lips.
I walked to her, leaned in, and bit her lip, not too hard but not too soft. She just needed a reminder of who was in charge. She had to remember that she didn’t tell me what was in store for her. So, I turned and put it up and picked up the bullwhip instead. Flicking my wrist and curving the whip to make an “S” shape, the clacker popped loudly as it struck her thighs. I aimed perfectly, after years and years of practice, so that it didn’t wrap around her and cause damage, but gave just enough of a sting to be sensual, too.
Once she was sufficiently submissive again, I approached her with the multiple stranded flogger and proceeded to whip her breasts until they were red and swollen with desire. The flogger isn’t intended for stinging pain like the whip, but it does sweetly sensitize the skin, making the sensation of skin-to-skin contact more heightened. Twirling it in my hand, rolling my wrist, and watching the strands as they smacked against her skin was pure bliss.
These thoughts are continuously running through my mind as I climb into my car this dark Monday morning before work. Tucker has the day off but I don’t mind since I really enjoy driving my car. The rumble of the engine, the feel of the leather covered steering wheel gliding through my hands, and the power of the horses under the hood when my foot hits the gas are all there for my pleasure and control. On days when I just need to think, driving is my refuge.
As I make my way from my house to the office, my mind is elsewhere as I drive on autopilot. It’s the same drive every day, and at this time of morning, it’s normally fairly isolated. My need for privacy dictates that I live well outside the suburban area, resulting in a longer drive than most. The eerie silence in the car brings me out of my daze and I realize the radio isn’t on. Just as I move my hand, the headlights of a car coming up behind me catch my eye. The driver is flying up on my ass at an incredible speed, so much so that I brace for impact.
I hear a popping noise and then my car makes a sudden, violent jerk to the left, then the right, and back left again. The dark images along both sides of the road come into view as my headlights sweep back and forth with my out of control car. As much as I try, I can’t regain control of it—everything is suddenly gone. The steering feels like it is nonexistent, the brakes aren’t working, and the throttle seems to be accelerating on its own. My mind is flooded with thoughts and questions as to what the fuck is going on.
Did that car hit me? Is that what the popping noise was?
No, no way. That wouldn’t explain losing complete control of all drive systems.
Is there a mechanical failure?
Of every major system? Try again.
How do I stop, or even intentionally crash into the ditch, before something really bad happens?
Without steering, brakes, or control of your acceleration, you’re shit out of luck, buddy.
This entire conversation with myself lasts about three seconds and then, regardless of my attempts to change the course of my car, my headlights illuminate the rapidly approaching drainage ditch. The one I didn’t want to crash into, since it’s at the bottom of steep drop off, but I have no say in the matter. I consider jumping from the car and taking my chances, but the steering is so erratic, I’m pretty certain I would end up being run over by my own car. Taking my chances with the safety systems inside the car, I decide to remain inside and literally ride it out.
