Facing the consequences

Fear.  Some times it is craved. The excitement and apprehension of facing something scary and unknown. Perhaps an exhilarating ride at the fairground, or watching a horror movie or may be the challenge of doing something for the first time – like abseiling.

In BDSM, it is part of the anticipation, when a scene is about to begin.  If bound or gagged, it is the racing heartbeats. To be blindfolded, unable to see what comes towards you.  A thrill, which can be yearned for and it brings the shift to submission.  Why, because it needs trust in the Dominant. Is it really fear, when there are safewords and limits?  Without these safeguards to protecting those playing, then it could become abusive and dangerous. Yet how to have that edge to the scene.   A dilemma – can you really feel fear if you know you are ultimately in safe hands?

Part of the story about Gemma is her recovery from trauma.  She did experience fear without any protective measures. She feared for her life.  She now faces the dilemma. She has become afraid of fear, what it stands for and how it makes her feel. She has to have absolute trust in those about her. Does she have it – how far can she trust Jason; her lover, her Dominant and husband?

An excerpt from the third book in the series – TRUST ME TO KEEP YOU.


She fumbled with her key in the lock of the hotel room.  A hot bath was all she could think about and a good cry too.  To have the day go from such a high to its ignoble end was almost unbearable.  She slammed the door behind her and walked through the small dark passageway next to the bathroom into the bedroom.  She thought her heart was going to explode in her chest. There on the bed, lying stretched out with his eyes shut, was her husband Jason.

What to think.

Why is he here?

When had he arrived?

Had he seen me with Jackson?

Had Gibson summoned him? No, she wouldn’t hide that from me.

Worse then.  He does not trust me on my own with the other men in the meeting.  He only comes when I screwed up, wasn’t that how it usually happened?

So many questions were unleashed in Gemma’s already obliterated mind.  Yet the primary emotion she felt winning through was relief.  She flopped down on the foot of the bed, buried her head in her hands and let the tears flow.

Jason moved quickly and took her into his arms for an embrace. “What?  Jeez Gem, what?  Did I scare the hell out of you?” He was puzzled by her extreme reaction to his unexpected appearance.  He thought she would be pleased to see him. Earlier in the day, he had decided to come and perhaps celebrate her success or at least offer some support to her.  Now he held two thoughts in his mind; one was Gibson’s perception of the man groping her and the other was the unscheduled additional meeting.  His worse fears may about to be realised.

“Tell me.  Come,” he pulled her head away from his chest and looked at her overwrought face. There he saw her despondency, deflation and maybe there was annoyance written into it too; the day had not ended well, perhaps the deal was off.

“You’re going to be so mad, Jason, believe me because I am,” she warned him.  His body tensed up at those worrying words.

“What the fuck has he done?” He held her face in his hands.

“How long have you been here?” She wanted to know if he had seen her with Jackson in the restaurant.

“Half an hour. I came up here to wait for you.”

“Why are you here?”

“I came to keep you company. Celebrate perchance, if not to be supportive.  Why did you think otherwise?  Gemma, what’s going on?”  He was not going to rest until he unearthed what had caused her such distress.

“Jackson,” she sobbed, “the bastard.  I’ve blown the whole contract.  I had to.  He said he would only agree to the contract if I had…,” she shut her eyes and dropped her voice low, “sex with him.”

She could feel through the air his body tense up like a spring coil.  She opened her eyes to see his clenched fists and he sprung up off the bed with the tension.  He was mad, beyond mad she thought.  He wanted to lash out at something or somebody.  For a few seconds she felt afraid of her husband, not that he would hurt her, but that he would not be able to control his rage.

I must not be afraid. I shall not be afraid.

“Where was Gibson?” he asked.

“She was watching, she knew he’d touched my leg under the table.” She flinched as she said the words because Jason was pacing up and down in front of her. “She couldn’t hear anything.  I signalled to her to leave alone, then he… and I told him to stuff the deal and walked off,” she tried to add more context.

Dabbing her tears away with a tissue, Gemma wanted to make sure that Jason understood she had held her own and not crumbled in a pathetic fashion.  “He tried again in the bar just now, can you believe it, with Gibson looking on.  So I told him who I was, who you were.  He thought he could seduce me with his money too.”

Jason said nothing.  Gemma found this worse than if he had ranted at her or yelled abuse.  She felt an inauspicious air about her; she was doomed.  He looked livid, cold and calculating. All the qualities that made him an extremely dangerous man when incensed with rage.

Christ, what is he going to do to me?

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