Chapter 1-The Dominant Girl
Ana:
The familiar scent of wood mixed with leather greets my nose as I enter my club. I trail my fingers along the ebony instruments that hang menacingly from the mahogany wood shelves and wracks that line the deep wine walls. I move further inside the club, passing by all the locked, private rooms and head towards the center of the club where the small bar lies. At the furthest end of the club is perhaps the section I like the least-it's where all the public displays of intimate acts are done. Not really my cup of wine, but you know each man to his own.
Jose hands me a shot of tequila and I quickly down it. "what's going on over there?" I ask, pointing to the general direction of that section of the club where a small crowd had gathered. My stomach immediately becomes uneasy when Jose shifts his weight and seems apprehensive to answer me. "Jose, tell me what's going on, now." I order in my Dom voice so he knows I am in no mood to fuck around.
"Um, Ana, you might want to go check this out for yourself. There's a young man over there with a really vicious Dom. She started canning him when I first got here." Jose glances down at his watch nervously and says in a quiet voice. "it has been half an hour since I got here and by the looks of it, she's not letting up and he's not safe wording." I sharply inhale a large shaky breath. Half hour. Half hour is a long time to cane someone.
I quickly make my way over, my black, spiked stilettos clicking across the polished, wooden floor. I wiggle my way through the crowd. My heart jumps and squeezes shut at the sight before me. In front of me, is a boy. His wrists and ankles are bound so tightly to the raven black cross that I can see profound red incisions left in his originally smoot, tan skin, restricting the blood flow. His whole back, from the top of his shoulder blades to his knees, is an intricate maze of cane welts, bruises, and blisters, some parts slightly oozing blood. The boy is shaking, his hands and ankles desperately pull against the restraint as I watch the cane slice into his back one more time and his muscle contorts in anguish. I feel anger spread through my every vein. This isn't BDSM. This is blatant abuse. Any semi-decent Dom would know to stop by now.
Before the cane can slash into his skin once more. I leap on to the small platform and bring my hand up to meet the second crack of the cane, immediately biting my tongue because of how much it hurts. "Stop." I order, going into my own Dom mode, pulling myself up to my whole height and turning my gaze icy cold, shielding the boy behind me. His Dom, with her fake boobs hanging out of the stringy, black lingerie she's wearing, attempts to smile, but her face is so injected with Botox that she looks like the Grinch himself.
"And who are you? Telling me what to do with my sub?" she snarls at me but I am not backing down.
"I am the owner of this club, so I have every right to know if one of our members is being abused by a pathetic excuse of a Dom." I actually spit at her and to her credit, she pales a little.
"Taylor." I call and he is by my side in an instant. "Get this bitch out of here." I command.
"mam, would you please come with me." I hear Taylor ask nicely but I wish he would just kick her out; it's the least she deserves.
"Fine." She huffs and exits with Taylor closely following her. I shake my head sadly; she didn't even ask about her sub, just left him here, without a word of concern or comfort.
It's just now that I notice the small crowd staring at us with baiting breaths and wide eyes, waiting for my next move in either shock or fear, maybe both, but I don't give a flying fuck at the moment. "What are you guys all staring at?" I snap at them. This is partly their fault also, who watches a Dom abuses a boy and not do anything? They should've come get me or Sawyer, who by the way, is fired. He was supposed to keep watch tonight and make sure everything is ok. And a bleeding, under aged boy is not something I consider ok. The voyeurs all scamper away to hide somewhere else and I can finally turn my attention to the boy.
I move in front of the cross and my heart all but shatters. Silent tears streak down his face and he is trying hard not to hiccup because the ball gag is in. "hey, hey…you're ok now. She's gone. I am just going to reach behind you and take the gag out ok?" I croon softly, keeping my voice low and steady. With careful fingers, I untie the ball gag and he lets out several choked sobs. I continue to keep my voice soft as I speak. "I need you to stay calm for me, I am going to use a knife to cut these restraints ok? Just stay still and I'll be quick, ok?" I ask and he gestures his head in what I assume is a nod. I pull out the small, silver knife that is tucked safely away in my pocket for this reason only and bend down, quickly sawing away the tight double knotted ropes. When I am done with all four limbs, he slumps down on the floor, his body too exhausted and beaten up to sit. I crouch down beside him. "Hey, do you think you can stand? I'm going to bring you to a room so you can rest and get you some care for your back. Is that alright with you?" I ask and he's so weak he can only nod. He tries to stand but stumbles. "Here, sling your arm around me." I order and gently take his hand, pulling it around my shoulder and feel his heavy, muscular body weight collapse on me. I do my best as I waddle in my high heels over to the spare room where Jose already had a white bed made (what would I do without Jose?). I lay his limp body on the bed and let out a heavy sigh. I want to demand answers from him but know that he's in no state to answer them and needs care right now. He rolls over on his stomach. I don't even want to imagine what laying on his back will feel like and he groans into the bed.
"I'll be back." I tell him softly. I walk out of the room and run my hands through my long hair. This is beyond fucked up. I have an under aged, bleeding, naked, probably scared-to-shit boy in that room. Where are his parents? Why is he with a woman that is at least 30 years older than him? Why didn't he safe word? Before I can think any more, Jose comes back with water, a first aid kit, and special cream.
"Is he alright?" Jose asks, his chocolate brown eyes burning with concern and I smile at his thoughtfulness.
I shake my head. "I don't know. He looks pretty bad. I'll try to get answers out of him tomorrow but for now he needs to rest. I got this." I say as Jose hands me all the stuff. Jose's such a great Dom, you should see the way he treats Caroline and the after-care she keeps on talking about. They're both such genuine, nice people.
I walk back to the room and my heart broke for probably the third time tonight. The boy is lying on the bed, his face tilted to the side as silent tears slip out of his dark, grey orbs and down his cheek, dripping on to the floor.
"Hey there." I say, grabbing some tissues while crouching down beside him. I gently dab away his tears and he doesn't flinch so I take that as a good sign and continue to wipe away his tears.
"sor..ry." he finally croaks out as another lone tear slide down his soft cheek.
"hey…hey…you don't have anything to be sorry about." I coo and plop down on the floor, sitting cross-legged.
"I don't…usually cry…I don't know what's…gotten into…me. Mistress…doesn't like crying." He continues to stutter and I ball my fist up at the mention of that vile woman.
I gently pick up his hand and he's too warn out to protest. I give it a small squeeze. "It's ok to cry sometimes." I say and dab away more tears, "You go ahead and cry if you need to, plus it's not good to pent up emotions, trust me on this one." I say as I trace small circles on his knuckles with my thumb, hoping to calm him.
"but…it…makes me seem…so weak." He gets out between hiccups and I can tell he's trying hard not to sob.
I snort. "Anybody that can take that canning is anything but weak." I say and for some reason this seems to pacify him a little. There is a brief silent moment between us as I wipe a handful of tears off his cheeks. "You know, people cry not because they are weak, they cry because they've been strong for too long." I say, still dabbing his eyes with a tissue. Ray told me that saying.
He finally closes his eyes and I just continue to sit there, contemplating what to do next. I take off my stilettos so I can move with more ease. I pick up his hand again and softly ask. "I'm going rub cream on and bandage up your back. Is that alright with you?" he nods, somewhat hesitant but I still take it as a yes.
I move around him, my heart aches at the sight of his back, littered with cane welts, bruises, and some blood. This is going to sting so much but it will help in the long run. "I'm sorry, this is going to sting." I say, lightly touching his shoulder. He only nods his head in understanding.
I pick up an alcohol wipe and he hisses as I press the cool cloth on his back. I encourage him to squeeze my free hand when it hurts as I clean up his back with my other one. When I am done, I get out the arnica cream and message it into his whole back and butt, cringing when I see the small, red, hardened marks where the black synthetic cane cracked down, hopefully there won't be anything permanent. He doesn't say anything the entire time as I continue my ministration, just squeezes my hand so tight that I think my knuckles might break. I finally finished and start to stick band aids on the spots that were slightly bleeding. I smile, the first time this whole night, when I'm finished.
I proceed to get the water Jose got me and three Advil (I wish I could get him something stronger). I lower myself down in front of him again and gently nudge the water cup between his lips. "hey sweetie, can you drink some water and take these Advil for me, it will help, I promise." He obediently takes the pills and drinks the whole glass of water which makes me smile warmly at him. "there you go." I praise and grab a cotton white sheet, draping it lightly over his abused body. "try to get some rest for now, I'll be here all night so if you need anything just holler." I instruct as I get up to exist the room until I heard a small whisper, not much more than a peep, "Thank you, mam."
I smile kindly at him: "You're more than welcome and please call me Ana." I say and quietly click the door shut behind me.