Page 27 of Corporate Bondage

“Would you like to elaborate on this?”

I crossed my right leg over my left knee and projected a picture of perfect calm when my inside was anything but. “I like to humiliate them, cause them pain, emotionally and physically.”

“And how does that make you feel?”

“Before two days ago?” I flicked an imaginary speck from my pants. “I’d say powerful, in control, enjoying someone else’s misery besides my own.”

“Ah, you mentioned before two days ago. What happened two days ago?”

The words stuck in my throat. Two days ago I might have lost the only man who would allow me to be myself with him.

“I hurt someone I’ve come to care for.” The words came out strangled. “I tied him up, I whipped him, I fucked him, and when he needed me to have his release I walked out on him.”

Her cheeks went red, and she cleared her throat. “How long have you practiced the BDSM lifestyle?”

“I wouldn't exactly call what I do BDSM,” I told her. “There’s a difference.” I chuckled dryly, remembering Gio asking for a safe word. “I doubt the BDSM community would want to be associated with me. I never punish and degrade for their pleasure, only mine. Do you understand?”

She nodded. “Can you tell me what’s so significant about this man who makes you want to change your ideal?”

“He’s in love with somebody else.”

Her eyes widened. “Is that why you enjoyed humiliating him? Is that why you punished him?”

“He should have gone home with me that night!” I cried angrily, rising to my feet and pacing the space before her. “He shouldn’t have rejected me. I wanted to hurt him the way his rejection hurt me.”

“And that you did. Why does that now make you angry?”

I stopped pacing with my back to her. “Because you didn’t see the look in his eyes when I walked out on him. He’s a strong man, doc. A proud man. He never once cried out for me to stop while I inflicted pain upon his body. He didn't ask me once to let him go. He took it all, but the second I deprived him of my touch, I made him feel small. I used to enjoy making people feel small, but I hated what I did to him.”

“How does this man make you feel, Keith?”

“Angry. So fucking angry. I hate him and the way he desires that fucking asshole. At the same time, he-he gives me a glimpse of what can never be, makes me ache for something I can never have.”

“What don’t you think you can’t have?”

“A normal life. Happiness. A faithful partner who will stay. Someone who will love me despite my flaws because it’s a part of who I am.”

She went silent at that, and I turned to find her writing on a notepad. I returned to the couch and checked my watch, discovering we had just started. I had another forty-five minutes to go, and I’d already spoken too much. I’d come because I needed to vent, needed to let my crap out nobody else around me would listen to, but she was paid to listen, so she had to.

“So what do you think, doc? Can you fix me or am I too far gone?”

She smiled at me patiently. “I know we love to judge people and determine if they are too far gone, but that is not why I am here. This is not something fixable overnight, Keith. In fact, I’ll be honest with you. What you most likely will find is a way how to deal with the issues you have and to learn positive ways of exercising your need to feel in control. This is something you may find that you have to fight against for a very long time, but with my support and even the right partner, there’s no reason you should not be able to have a healthy relationship.”

And that was all fine but I needed to know where to go from here. How was I supposed to fix things with Gio?

“Talk to him,” she encouraged when I asked her that question. “Tell him how you feel about that night. If you explain your struggles with him he might be able to understand. In fact, the more you open up to your partner about your struggles the easier it will be on the relationship. Now, Keith, I want you to go back. Way back. When was the first time you felt out of control?”

The forty-five minutes went faster than I anticipated, and at the end, I was partly relieved and partly frustrated. It was so easy to go to these sessions expecting an instant fix or that at least something would be fixed once the hour was up. When I walked out of her office, I was nowhere near fixing. I had her number for home contact because I was paying her way more for her to be on-call should I need her. I was still without a clue as to what to do about Gio. He hadn’t called me, and I felt too ashamed to be the one to pick up the phone and ring him.

I didn’t expect him to call first at all, not after everything that had gone down between us. As I drove from the therapist’s office to work, I tried to talk myself into calling him. Twice I took up the phone until I eventually flung it onto the back seat of the car. I was frustrated with myself for being too weak to simply say the three words; I am sorry. Saying those words would be losing a part of myself, the part that had kept me together all these years. The tough exterior, the lack of apology, the need to domineer and do whatever it took to ensure I was never taken advantage of was what had kept me sane all these years. Saying those words would transfer a great deal of power over to Gio and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that yet. I wasn’t ready to submit.

I might never be ready.

My sessions with the therapist were early in the morning before work, so I arrived on time. Carlo was at the front desk, avoiding looking at me. I didn’t mind. He would avoid me now altogether and that was a relief. I didn’t have the energy to waste thinking about someone else now that I was so preoccupied with Gio. I advised him to hold all my calls and plunged into work.

The morning was a blur of activities. I had forgotten the charity event at the country club and spent much time on the phone promising Ingram I would be there. I hated the idea of going alone this year. It never bothered me before, being one of the few single men in a room full of couples, but my mind kept returning to Gio. If I hadn’t screwed things up perhaps he would have liked to go.

After ending that call I had to visit VM Media, a small cable company we were looking to buy out. That negotiation took all morning, but for once I didn’t snap at anyone or called anyone an imbecile. I wasn’t the most tactful when it came to matters of business. I fought dirty and sometimes my language got a little colorful to show how serious I was. I might not have gotten my job by merit, sleeping my way to the position, but I damn well had earned the right to stay there. My track record spoke for itself.

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