Page 6 of Submissive Lies

TWO

I’d been so pleased with myself that day.

Burrowing into the throw I’d wrapped myself up in, feet curled up underneath me, I played out a movie in my head I’d seen a thousand times, and would see a thousand times more. I wasn’t sitting on a couch in Thomas’ apartment. In my mind, I was trapped in a memory I couldn’t put behind me no matter how much I’d tried. In there, I was miles away, heading up the walk to the house where I’d once lived with Ben.

Ben Devers. My Dom.

My former Dom.

I was returning home from a company trade show two days early. As part of my job as a marketing and communications manager for a biomed corporation, these shows were a regular occurrence. Ben, my boyfriend of three years, the man with whom I lived with—the one I was walking up the path towards—had grown used to me being away at these events whenever they came up.

For me to be coming home early was unusual. It was my boss’s idea. She’d thought it would be a nice treat for Ben and I to have a few extra days to spend together since I’d been gone for over a week. It was her way of giving us a mini-vacation of sorts.

I wanted to surprise him, to make my coming home early extra special, so I did nothing to let on I’d be arriving ahead of schedule. I kept it secret. Made no hint of it in my e-mails, texts, or calls that I wasn’t still going to be at the show for another two days. On my way to the airport I texted Ben to find out what his plans were for the day. If he expected to be home.

He’d texted me back: lol! yeah, cleaning up

Me: Really? Trying to hide the evidence? :-)

Ben: lol it’s all the crazy parties I’ve been having!

The exchange made me smile. The image of him working like a busy little beaver around the house, getting it straightened out, made me grin. My mind swirled with delightful, devilish thoughts of the reward I’d give him once I arrived home and surprised him.

I caught a cab from the airport and gave a sigh of relief when I got to the house and saw his car in the driveway. I paid the cabbie then started that unforgettable walk up the path to the door. Fishing out my key, I undid the lock, moving quiet as I could letting myself in. If I was lucky, he’d have his headphones on listening to music while he worked. I’d snuck up on him like that on more than one occasion. I set my bag down inside the door, looking around. The house was silent, and there was no sign of him. I slipped into the kitchen, cracking open the door to the garage. Empty. Hmm. That only left a few other options. The most obvious was him being back in our bedroom, or…

It was the second choice that made me grin even wider. Our playroom.

The playroom was a private space in the house that Ben and I had created to play our kinky games. People sometimes referred to spaces like ours as a dungeon, but I hated that name. It sounded so... weird. Medieval. And there was nothing about our room that justified it being called that. It was not dark. There weren’t chains on the walls. And while we had a St. Andrews cross, and there was a bondage bench, and a horse—no Sybian yet; that was on the to-buy list—there wasn’t anything else that warranted the term. The walls were a pleasant sage green, the flooring bland oak hardwood, and it was as far from anything dungeon-like as could be imagined. We had built the room for ourselves, kitted it out with things we liked, and for us the term playroom was much more appropriate.

I smiled as I crept down the hallway. Tiptoeing, I heard a thump come from the direction of the playroom, followed by quiet. I chuckled. Ben was a busy little boy, getting things squared away so he could properly greet me when I arrived home. At the time I was scheduled to. Well, I had a different plan. I would turn the tables on him. The thought of surprising him tugged a wicked grin across my face. Oh, I was being a very naughty girl, and that, I hoped, would result in me receiving some appropriately delightful punishments.

As I drew closer, another thudding noise came from behind the closed door. My smile faltered.

Wait.

I knew that sound. It was a sound I recognized all too well. The sound of a flogger hitting flesh. And… and that was a muted cry.

I stopped cold.

I suddenly felt lightheaded, as if the hallway was growing smaller, narrower, the door into the playroom receding into the distance. The noise repeated itself. My feet moved, bringing me up to the doorway.

Again. Another strike. A muffled whimpering cry.

That should be my voice.

In that room, I was the one who was supposed to make that noise. I heard Ben’s voice, a low chuckle, followed by a rumble of words that were unclear. I reached for the doorknob, even as a flood of adrenalin pumped into my system.

It’s a video. He’s watching porn.

-No, it’s not.-

He wouldn’t do this to me…

-You’re about to find out just how fucking wrong you are.-

I pushed the door open, stepping through. Ben was in mid-swing as I came into the room. He twisted to face me as the leather falls landed heavily against her skin.

“Holy fuck.” His voice cracked on the words. The arm holding the flogger fell to his side, and he just stood there, staring at me as if I was an apparition rather than the lover of three years whom he had just destroyed.

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