Page 33 of Loving Jamie

I’m 20 years old and in a ‘relationship’ with a 37-year-old monster.

End of 2018 – Jamie escapes.

The back of my thighs and the skin on my back is split open, red hot blood steams down my body. “Fucking pussy. Is that all you can take? I trained you better than this Jamie.” Damian spits at me before he stomps out of the bedroom, leaving me in a puddle of my own blood.

After the front door slams, I drag myself to the bathroom and force myself in the shower. The hot water feels like literal liquid fire, but the cuts need to be clean if I don’t want to get an infection.

Hobbling to the kitchen, still naked, I open the freezer door and pull out the bath towel I stuffed in the drawer last night.

The towel crunches as I unroll it onto the floor before I slowly lower my body onto it. The material is rough and scratchy but the cold numbs my cuts straight away.

I let my head fall to the side as I suck in slow deep breaths, my lungs scream in protest at the movement.

I open my eyes sometime later, my naked body shivering in the cold apartment. With shaky limbs I manage to pull myself to stand and shuffle into the bedroom to find a dressing gown.

My body shakes even though I’m sweating in pain. I turn the kettle on to make some tea and open the kitchen cupboard to find some pain pills.

At the very back of the shelf I find my phone. Damian changes the hiding spot after each time I use it to make a call, so I can never find it by myself.

I look out the window and see it's dark outside. I don’t know when Damian will be home, but this might be my only chance.

Picking up the phone I press 999. I give them the address and tell them, “There isn’t much time. He will be home soon, please help me.”

And then I hang up and delete the phone call record before turning the phone off and shove it back in the cupboard.

After making my tea with shaky fingers I sit at the kitchen table and wait.

Minutes later the front door slams open, I just hope the police get here in time.

Chapter 18 –

William

As soon as Justin and Jamie drop me off at work, I quickly check on the staff to see if they need anything. After they assure me everything's fine, I walk to my office and wait for the person I'm interviewing to be a new dungeon master.

I turn on my computer and check over the application he sent over, his name is David Lopez, and he says he’s been in the kink lifestyle for 4 years, but he has prior experience working in BDSM clubs so that sounds promising.

A knock at the door brings my focus away from the computer screen, “Come in,” I say loud enough that they can hear me over the music playing down the hallway.

The door opens and a man with a head full of dark hair pops through. “Mr Smith?”

Nodding my head, I stand up and offer a handshake. “Yes. Mr Lopez I'm assuming?”

His handshake is strong, and I can feel the calluses on his palm. You can tell a lot about a person by the type of handshakes they give. The rough skin tells me he’s a man who used to working with his hands.

“Come and have a seat Mr Lopez.”

As he steps past me and walks towards the desk, I can see he’s quite a bit shorter than me, I'd say maybe around 5ft 6.

I sit in my chair and ask him some basic questions; Why are you interested in this job? What training have you had? I tell him in more detail about what is expected if he gets the job.

After he answers my questions in great detail I say, “So tell me about yourself?”

His shoulder relaxes and he settles more comfortably in the chair, “Well I'm 24 years old and I moved from a little village in Spain, with my family nearly ten years ago. I have worked at a few different clubs in and around the area but none of them have been the right fit for me.” Chocolate coloured eyes watch me so intensely as he speaks.

“Can I ask why they didn’t work out?” I only ask because from what I’ve learnt about him so far, he seems like a hard worker, and he obviously has a lot of knowledge about kink and BDSM.

“People take one look at me and make their own assumptions, I’m a Dominant but people think because of my height and frame I'm not strong enough to be a Dom. I mean to some degree I understand, I am on the shorter side, and I’m not packed full of muscle, but I believe it’s a state of mind. I know who I am and what I want. So, whenever we had issues at the clubs the members didn’t take me seriously.”

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