Eyes—once silver and bright, now dull—looked up and Rebecca stared at herself in the mirror. How had she ended up here? How did something that started off as incredibly erotic turn into something so sadistic? Rebecca untied her silk robe and gingerly peeled it away from her skin. She winced as the fabric caught on a fresh wound. Tossing the robe aside, she turned to see what the damage was this time. Angry red welts crisscrossed her back and a trickle of blood rolled down slowly. She followed its progress until the steam from the running shower fogged the mirror enough to obscure her view.
This was the worst it had ever been. In the beginning, the pain—as hurtful as it was—had been bearable because it was always followed up by incredible pleasure. As time went on, Samantha became increasingly stressed out about money and the club. The pain increased, and the pleasure stopped. It was as though torturing Rebecca somehow eased Samantha’s anxiety. When Rebecca would beg for Samantha to stop, it would get worse.
In an attempt to save herself—save her soul—Rebecca did something drastic. Something she never thought she would do. She went to her aunt and asked for an advance in her inheritance. That wasn’t an easy conversation. As things declined with Samantha, Rebecca’s phone calls to her aunt declined as well. She was afraid her Aunt Wills would hear something in her voice that would give away what her life had become. Rebecca had to explain exactly what she wanted to do. That it was not only to help her girlfriend, but it would be beneficial to her career as well. It wasn’t exactly a lie. She didn’t have a hefty amount, but if she could just buy the club, bring it into the black, things would get better. They had to. She looked at her back again and thought about how wrong she was.
IN RETROSPECT, REBECCA probably should have discussed her plan with Samantha. Unfortunately, they didn’t have that kind of relationship. Once they got involved physically, Samantha’s respect for Rebecca and her abilities dwindled drastically. Every idea, whether it was made to save money or make money, was rejected as though some silly schoolgirl was making them. So, Rebecca kept her plan to herself, opting to surprise her lover once she could hand a thriving business back over to its rightful owner.
It was a good plan. At least it had been in Rebecca’s mind. Regrettably, she neglected to take Samantha’s ego into account. Of course, she knew it would be hard for Samantha to give up control. After all, that was the epitome of who Samantha is. But Rebecca made considerable effort to ensure the change of owners was private from the employees, and Samantha remained in charge as the manager. Nevertheless, the older woman saw losing ownership of her club as a failure. And Samantha’s defeat meant Rebecca’s agony. There were many times when Rebecca faltered and nearly confessed everything she had been fighting to do for Samantha. But, she couldn’t do that without having something to show for her efforts or her pain. So, she waited. And endured.
It took more than two excruciating years for the club to start seeing a significant profit. It was during that time that Samantha began her love affair with heroin. A long-time patron had introduced her during a particularly stressful time. It didn’t take much for Samantha to become as addicted to this new hobby as she was to being a Dominant. It soon overtook her love for practically everything else.
Of course, she justified her frequent using by arguing how it helped her get through the pain of losing the club. She also claimed sex became euphoric and more heightened, though Rebecca was never “allowed” to share in that experience—something she was secretly grateful for. The only thing that helped Rebecca in the bedroom was the charade that Samantha was solely responsible for all of the club’s success. Stroking her ego was easily accomplished when Samantha was in an altered state.
It only helped marginally as soon as the drug use became a daily occurrence and Samantha became increasingly aggressive. Rebecca’s appearance in the club had been reduced to nothing more than Samantha’s stress reliever in the black room. Those times when Rebecca physically couldn’t take more, Samantha would find other willing participants. Despite Samantha’s vow to remain loyal, her unfaithfulness no longer fazed Rebecca. The reality of that depressed her. Perhaps she had been naïve to think whatever she and Samantha had would grow into something resembling love. Now, all she could hope for was mutual respect.
SHE LOOKED AT the stripes that marred her once smooth back again, and for the millionth time, she wondered why she stayed. What was this hold Samantha had on her? Did she feel indebted to the woman for giving her an opportunity? Did she feel bound as Samantha’s sub because she knew no other way to be other than a slave to her lover’s every wish?
Why did she keep trying to make things better? Why did she ever think anything she did would make a difference? These were the questions that swirled inside her head each time things got too excessive. Which is exactly what happened tonight. All she had wanted to do was make things better. She cooked a romantic dinner, dressed in something she knew Samantha would like and had the papers on hand to sign the club back over. She had hoped it would be a joyous occasion that would end in the two making love for the first time. Or, at the least, bring the pleasure back after the pain.
Hindsight is twenty-twenty. If only Rebecca had known Samantha had spent the day shooting up. If only she had grasped the extent of Samantha’s ego. If only she hadn’t tried so hard to win Samantha’s love. But hindsight never helped anyone. The reality was dinner sat cold and untouched on the table. Candles were long ago burned out. And the contract was in shreds all over the dining room floor. Instead of the elation Rebecca had expected and hoped for, it was anger she was met with.
“Those are going to sting in the hot water.”
Rebecca lifted pain-filled eyes and met a smirking Samantha. No longer did she see a charming, clever woman. Instead, she saw a vicious bully. Rebecca’s weary eyes stayed with Samantha as the woman stepped closer. When Samantha leaned in, she felt that hot breath on her neck. It used to excite her. Now, it instilled fear inside her.
“It’ll teach you never to lie to me again.” She bit Rebecca’s ear painfully, but the younger woman remained quiet. She had learned earlier in the night that trying to explain only brought on more pain. Every “excuse” was met with another strike on her back. “Get in.”
As much as Rebecca didn’t want to get in the shower with Samantha watching, she didn’t argue. All she needed to do was will herself not to react. If she cried from the pain, she would be giving the older woman exactly what she wanted. And Rebecca refused to be humiliated even more tonight. She felt a hard smack on her bare ass when she failed to move fast enough.
“I said, get in.”
With her head held high, Rebecca walked over to the shower and took a breath. Do not cry. Do not cry. She kept that mantra in her head as she stepped in. The bite of the steaming water nearly caused Rebecca to gasp and her knees to buckle. Tears pooled in her eyes but they never fell. She knew Samantha was watching carefully. She could see her smiling at Rebecca’s obvious discomfort. Once again, she wondered why she was still here. She even wondered how she was still alive.
“Hurry up. I’m hungry,” Samantha said finally and walked out.
Rebecca released the breath she had been holding, and with that came the tears. Yet, she never stepped out of the spray of the shower. She welcomed the pain, knowing that each splash against her skin meant the blood of the night was being washed away. How fitting that she should feel as though it was her life circling the drain.
“REBECCA!”
Samantha’s agitated voice carried through the apartment, causing Rebecca’s entire body to shake. She closed the book she was reading and set it aside. It had been months since Rebecca had told Samantha about buying the club. Since then, their relationship declined even further. Samantha stayed high more often than not. Her temper became out of control. The only fortunate thing was her memory was lapsing. Rebecca had gotten away with never mentioning the ownership of the club again. Fortunate because Rebecca couldn’t imagine giving Samantha control in the state she was in.
“In the bedroom,” Rebecca called out as calmly as she could. Where I always am. Every night. It was another lesson learned after that horrible night. The sight of Rebecca in the kitchen only served to piss Samantha off. The blonde had been all but banned from the club. And when Samantha came home, Rebecca was to be waiting in the bedroom for her, ready for whatever mood Samantha happened to be in.
“What the fuck are you doing in here?” Samantha staggered into the room, hitting her shoulder on the door jam. “Shit!”
“I was…”
“Shut up!”
Fantastic. Nights like these were the worst. Samantha would come home completely wasted and Rebecca would take the brunt of her wrath. The only good thing was there were times she was too wasted to do anything sexual. Words and insults were bad, but they were far better than the physical pain of the whips.
“Would you like me to run you a bath?” Rebecca suggested softly. If she could get Samantha to calm down, there was a chance the night would be short and painless. Maybe she will fall asleep in the tub. Rebecca cut off that line of thinking.
“No, I don’t want a fucking bath.” Samantha threw her small bag on the bed, hitting Rebecca’s shin. “I want you naked.” She unzippered the bag revealing needles, a tourniquet, and vials of black tar heroin.
In a ritual Rebecca had seen many times before, Samantha took out the tourniquet and wrapped it around her upper arm. She remained silent as she watched Samantha fill the syringe with a precise dose. With the state Samantha was in already, Rebecca could only hope that another shot would incapacitate her enough that Rebecca would get the night off.
“Did you hear me? Undress.” With great care, Samantha stuck the needle in a plump vein. She closed her eyes, and Rebecca could only assume she was feeling whatever euphoria the drugs brought her.