Page 66 of Untether

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CAL

"I made him just and right, sufficient to have stood, though free to fall.”

—Milton,Paradise Lost

Dirty-lite.

It wasn’t such a difficult mandate. Not such a difficult concept to grasp. I show Aida a good time within the clear boundaries that this documentary—and her personal situation—dictates.

I charm her.

Make her feel like the amazing, sexy woman she is.

I fuck her, giving her just enough kink to show her what she’s been missing, but not too much.

That’s it.

Instead, I slipped a mask on last night, and chained her to a bed, and came all over her tits, and shoved my dick down her throat, and unleashed a torrent of verbalfilth, and flipped her over, andspat on her fucking cunt, for fuck’s sake,and railed her as hard as I’ve ever railed anyone in my life.

Nice, Cal. Really nice.

Jesus fucking Christ.

I’m not hungover, which is one of the best things about Alchemy—you never get drunk on alcohol there. You just get drunk on pussy. Still, I’m exhausted. My body’s tired despite spending six or seven hours comatose. And I can’t shake the weighty feeling that I did really, really badly.

When I get to work just in time for our morning meeting, everyone else looks knackered, too, even Gen, which is vaguely reassuring.

‘Hi,’ I say, flopping onto the sofa and stretching my legs out in front of me. I look around. ‘Where’s Mads?’

‘She’s not feeling great,’ Zach says. ‘We didn’t actually make it last night—she’s a bit fluey.’

‘Ah, shame,’ I say. I know how much Mads loves the Masked Ball. Almost as much as she loves Slave Night, which is saying something. ‘Is she staying home?’

‘Yeah, she’s in bed,’ he says. ‘I got her a hot water bottle and some ginger tea before I left. I’ll text her shortly to make sure she’s okay.’

I smirk. He’s so pussy-whipped it’s not funny. I go to open my mouth, but Rafe beats me to it.

‘You’re so caring,’ he croons in a piss-taking voice. ‘Did you put some Vick’s Vaporub on her too, before you left? Give her a good chest rub?’

‘Fuck off,’ Zach says as Gen and I snigger.

‘No offence, but I’m glad she’s not here,’ Rafe says. ‘There’s something I want to talk to you guys about, and I don’t want her to know.’

‘Jesus, me too,’ I say, resting my elbows on my thighs andrubbing my eyes with the heels of my hands. ‘I seriously fucked up last night. But you go first, mate.’

‘No, you,’ he says. ‘Honestly. Sounds serious.’

‘Yep.’ I drag my hands down my face and survey them. ‘Got a bit carried away with Aida.’

‘I’m not surprised, wearing that thing,’ Gen scoffs. ‘You looked utterly terrifying. What on earth possessed you?’

‘Dunno,’ I say, just as Zach asks, ‘What was he wearing?’

‘Full-on balaclava,’ Rafe tells him. ‘He looked like a fucking rapist.’

Zach raises his eyebrows. ‘Ah,’ is all he says, but the way he says it speaks volumes.

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