Ch 3 The Flame Within

1: Flaming

"Come in baby," Chloe said. "How are you feeling?"

"So much better," r said, embracing her friend. "Thank you, Chloe, so much."

"Come sit down," Chloe said, taking her hand.

"I'd rather lie down," r said.

"Oh!," Chloe said, smiling. "So you're feeling?"

"Yes," r said. "I didn't know it would hurt this much for so long."

"Let me see," Chloe said.

The slave handed Chloe her coat, then turned and raised her cotton dress above her hips, bending over slightly. The white thong she was wearing contrasted strongly with her reddened ass, purpling slightly to bruises in the center.

Chloe gently ran a hand over the markings. "This was just with his hand, right?"

"Yes," r said. "You can tell?"

"I'd be able to feel the impact marks if it were something else," Chloe said. She had a lot of experience having her ass marked with canes, whips, belts and other implements. But she had never seen marks like this on her friend; this was the most severely r had ever been punished.

She kissed r softly and slowly. "So just to be clear, you're asking me to take you straight to bed?"

"I would really love that," r said gratefully.

Chloe continued to caress r's ass as they walked together into the bedroom, then pushed r onto the bed, on her stomach, still dressed. She began gently kissing and licking the reddened ass, running her tongue over her friend's bruised flesh.

"I have to tell you, it turns me on to see this," Chloe said. "A lot."

"I was thinking about showing you," r said, raising her hips slightly.

Chloe's hand continued moving over her ass. "How does it feel now?"

"It still smarts," r said.

"Too much to sit? Really?" Chloe asked. Compared to the whip marks she often had on her own ass, this would be no more than mild discomfort for her.

"I can sit," r said. "It's a little uncomfortable but it's also a nice reminder. I just wanted to go to bed with you sooner. "

Chloe laughed. "How did he care for you afterwards?"

"He put some ointment on," r said. "And he held me a long time."

"Good," Chloe said. "I have aloe gel. It doesn't do anything for healing but you don't really need that."

"I don't?"

"Honey, this is just a spanking. A little bruising where you took it the hardest," Chloe said. "No blood, no serious bruises. You're not black-and-blue. You'll hardly notice it in a day or two."

"It didn't feel like 'just' a spanking," r said. "I've been spanked before. This hurt a lot."

"He definitely went past the recreational level," Chloe said. "He hit you harder and longer and it looks like he focused on the 'sweet spot.'" She kissed that sweetness.

"Did you want him to stop? Were you thinking about safe-wording?"

"I wasn't really thinking at all," r said. "It just took me over completely. That part felt really good. And the pain was like working for him. I thought about offering it to him, about being marked. I didn't like hurting, but I liked hurting for him."

"See?" Chloe said.

"But I knew he wouldn't go too far," r said. "I don't want to bleed for him. I don't even want that spanking to be a regular thing."

"I doubt it will be," Chloe said. "But you needed it this time."

"I did," r said, a note of surprise still in her voice.

--

She'd come home flaming mad on Friday night. A private elevator does not have a door that can be satisfyingly slammed, but she hurled her keys into the bowl and threw her bag to the floor as if to punish her laptop.

Her owner called from the kitchen, "Everything OK?" But there was no response, and when he came out of the kitchen only her bag was by the door, and the bedroom door was closed.

He raised his eyebrows. It was very unusual for her to ignore one of their most basic rules, that she kneel and wait every time she came in the door. Even if she urgently needed the bathroom, she at the very least should have asked permission on the way. To close the door on him without a word almost felt like a rebuke, but there was nothing wrong between them so far as he knew.

He went back into the kitchen to check on dinner and give her a few minutes to explain herself. The bedroom door opened and she came out in a soft denim shirt and sweatpants, walked into the kitchen and sat at the table.

"I'm sorry, I am so angry," she said. She stood up again and folded her arms. "I almost quit today. Maybe I should have." She was pacing now.

"He did it again," she said angrily, pacing. "In front of clients, in front of Andrea, in front of everyone. The condescending son of a bitch." She continued, spitting out a furious story, one that she'd told too many times and he'd heard too many times. "He calls me 'the director' when he wants to take credit, then hangs me out to dry when he realizes he was wrong."

He let her continue venting for a little while, getting the story only in bits and pieces. He was waiting for her to remember herself, remember her rules, and come to him, but every time she started to slow down, she remembered something else and was off again on a further rant. When she started to repeat herself, he finally decided it had gone too far.

"Slow down," he said. "Come here." But that only inflamed her further.

"Don't tell me to relax!" she almost shouted. "People have been shutting me up all day!"

"I didn't tell you to relax," he said calmly. "I told you to come here. Now. On your knees."

That tone always made her melt, but she was very keyed up. She stood in front of him, but said, "Master, I need to talk this out."

"I understand," he said. "And I want to hear it. But you're not talking right now, and your anger is taking over. You need to obey. On your knees, now."

"No," she said. "I'm not ready for that. I've been belittled enough today."

His eyebrows went up as he tried to conceal his hurt, control his reaction.

"Do I belittle you?" he asked, quietly.

She sat on the couch and put her face in her hands. "No, of course you don't," she said. "I'm sorry, Robert. But I can't right now."

He put a hand on her back, feeling the tension in her muscles. But she didn't relax, and didn't lean into him, and after a few minutes she stood up.

"I'm going to lie down," she said. He remained on the couch as she walked into the bedroom.

This was a kind of resistance he hadn't felt from her before, but, he thought, at least she is here. She hadn't asked him for space, and left, the way she had the last time she'd felt unready for what he wanted. He knew it was a lot. He worried that someone like her would eventually realize that she didn't want to be a slave, couldn't accept it. Perhaps his fantasy of owning a genuinely powerful woman would remain only a fantasy.

But he knew that she wouldn't respond well to pursuit, so he remained on the couch, reading, wondering if she'd come back to him when she'd had some time to think. She didn't, and as the evening grew late he decided that he'd respected her need for space long enough. She wasn't going to keep him out of his own bedroom.

She was asleep, curled in a ball on top of the covers. Her work clothes were on the floor and she was wrapped tightly in his fleece robe, which covered all of her and then some. Not only had she gotten undressed without permission, she'd left her clothes on the floor and made herself quite inaccessible, using his own robe. But this was clearly not a time to call her to account.

He got ready for bed and turned back the covers. She stirred, and lifted her head, half awake. He crawled into bed and she turned over and curled into him. Neither of them said anything. He could still feel her tension in her shoulders, and he stroked her hair. Without a signal from him, she moved between his legs and took his cock in her mouth.

She sucked him slowly and deeply, as he had trained her, and opened the robe and let it fall without letting his cock leave her mouth. He held her head down and she did not resist, working hard to accept him in her throat as he came, softly. She swallowed without asking, then laid her head on his shoulder and said, "Thank you." She was soon asleep again, and he lay awake thinking for a while, grateful for her service and what it meant, but wondering how to handle her.

--

In the night he woke to use the bathroom, and she was awake, lying against the headboard, eyes open and almost glowing with intensity. She didn't respond when he asked if she was all right, so he went back to sleep.

--

In the morning he awoke to her mouth on his cock. He enjoyed her service, but when she lifted her head unexpectedly he did not push her back down on his cock, or punish her for taking her mouth off his cock without permission.

"Master, I need to go home," she said. "I have to figure things out and get some work done."

"Can you do that here?" he asked.

"I can't," she said. She sat up in bed, and he could see her posture changing, as if she were getting up from her knees.

"I know I broke a lot of rules last night," she said. "I'm sorry, and please don't take that to mean I'm not happy being yours."

He started to speak but she put her hand on his mouth.

"I can't think about it now," she said. "I have to think about what I'm going to do on Monday and whether I should do anything over the weekend. I don't know how that fits in with being your slave and I don't have time for that now."

"I think you need to make that time more than ever, right now," he said.

She looked at him. "We agreed you weren't going to control me at my job," she said.

He nodded. He had a lot to say but this wasn't the time. She kissed him quickly, picked up his robe from where she'd let it drop the night before, and went into the kitchen. Soon he smelled coffee, but when he came into the kitchen she was on her feet, drinking coffee and looking out the window. He poured his own cup and went into the living room.

When she came to him a short time later, she was dressed. She knelt in front of him, held his hands, and said, "I'm sorry. I know we need to figure this out and we will. Just not now. I can't think about it."

He kissed her, and she got up to leave.

2: Burning

She stopped at a deli and bought an egg sandwich and a second cup of coffee. She sat briefly on a bench and ate half the sandwich before throwing it out, then drank the rest of the coffee as she walked, cursing at the inevitable spill. In her head she was writing email and replaying conversations from the day before.

At home she hung up her coat quickly, pulled out her laptop and started writing, trying to capture what she'd been composing in her head. She worked nonstop for a few hours, finally stopping when she could no longer ignore her hunger, and the headache caused by too much caffeine and not enough water.

She drank two glasses of water, ate a Kind bar, and sat back down. Her phone buzzed with a text from Chloe. Shit! They were supposed to go to the museum today. She started to call, then texted back,

sorry love i can't today.

Three dots appeared and stayed, as if Chloe was writing a lot. Then they stopped, and finally,

wtf??

was all she sent. Rachele moaned and put the phone aside, unable to deal with it. But soon enough came the next message.

ru w robert???

"Chloe,

please

," she said to the phone, pointlessly, then texted back

no!! work shit. im sorry.

She declined the call that followed, not feeling able to handle Chloe's anger, however justified, and tried to refocus on what she was writing. She was now pissing off the two most important people in her life, which ratcheted up the stress and reduced her ability to deal with any of it.

An hour or so later, she was startled by knocking at her apartment door. She got up to investigate and the knocking repeated, accompanied by Chloe's voice.

"It's me," she heard. "Let me in!"

Rachele sighed and opened the door. Chloe looked her up and down.

"You look terrible," she said, and after a quick kiss, walked past her into the apartment.

"Um, thanks?" Rachele said.

"Sorry, hon, but you really do," she said. "You haven't showered, have you?"

"I haven't had time."

"And I'm guessing that's all you've eaten?" Chloe continued, gesturing at the empty yogurt containers and protein bar wrappers on the coffee table. "And all you've been drinking is coffee."

Rachele didn't answer, just sat back down on the couch and put her head in her hands.

"I'm sorry, Chloe," she said. "Things are really blowing up and I'm trying to figure out what to do."

"I'm sorry about work," her friend said. "But that's no excuse, and this can't be helping."

"I know, I know," Rachele said, leaning back and looking at the ceiling. "I know you're mad at me. I'm in trouble with Robert, and I don't know if I have a job or if I want it."

"Wait, what?" Chloe said. "What happened with Robert?"

"I can't, not now," Rachele said.

Chloe sat down and took both of her hands in her own. "Look at me," she said. "What happened with you and Robert?"

"I'm in trouble," her friend said, pulling away.

"Because...?"

"I came home last night, to his place I mean, and I was so upset and angry and he just wanted me to drop everything," she said in a rush. "Like he could just erase everything and make me kneel."

"I thought making you kneel was the point?" Chloe said.

"I wasn't ready," Rachele said. "He should have known that."

Chloe knew Robert well enough to be certain there was more to it. "Tell me everything," she said.

"Chloe, I have to--"

"You have to drink some water and talk to me," Chloe interrupted her. "This shit can wait for a half hour." She got up, filled Rachele's water bottle, and brought over.

Rachele drank and Chloe stroked her neck and back. She put the water down and told Chloe what had happened the night before.

"He wanted me to just stop everything and I couldn't do that," she concluded. "I hate that 'calm down' shit."

"He was right," Chloe said.

Rachele looked at her, startled. "What?"

"Seriously," Chloe said. "He was right. You did need to calm down. You needed to do it now. If I hadn't shown up would you have ever eaten a real meal, or just worked yourself into a massive headache?"

She turned the laptop to look at the screen.

"What are you doing here?" she said, but didn't wait for an answer. Pushing away the laptop, she put her arm around her friend.

"You're so tense you're vibrating," she said. "I could clean plaque off my teeth with you."

Rachele laughed ruefully.

I guarantee you're not doing anything useful right now," Chloe said. "You are churning over stuff, banging your head against it, not thinking straight. You do this all the time."

"But--"

Chloe put her hand on her friend's mouth. "Shush," she said. "Yes, I'm silencing you. You need to calm down and breathe and put this aside. You'll figure it out, we can talk about it. But this is pointless and you know it."

Chloe didn't take charge often. She was speaking confidently but inside she was holding her breath. She had seen her friend do this before, continue to struggle with something, making no progress but getting increasingly frustrated. And she was resistant if not outrightly hostile to anyone who tried to intervene. One night when they'd been lost trying to find a country inn, she had refused to pull over or take a break or backtrack until after a close call on a tight curve Chloe had screamed at her to pull over.

It had taken raw terror in Chloe's voice to get Rachele's attention that time. Would caring firmness work this time? Chloe could see Rachele's tension building, and she tried to avert the angry response that might be coming. "Sweetie, I love you, you know that," she said. "I can't see you like this. You're hurting yourself. You're not accomplishing anything except burning a hole in your stomach."

Rachele's shoulders slumped, and she leaned against Chloe. She didn't feel Chloe's release of tension, but instead felt how much she herself had been carrying. Chloe understood her. She knew how Rachele would get when an intractable problem or infuriating incident would not leave her, would not let her relax and eat, would ring and circle in her head. At times like this she could not stop thinking, could not stop worrying at a problem.

"I'm so tired," she said. "I hate this."

"I know, baby," Chloe said, stroking her hair. "Finish your water and we'll get you into the shower."

Rachele fought back the impulse to get back to work, and finally obeyed, upending the bottle. Chloe kissed her gently, then took her hand and led her into the bathroom.

"Get those crappy sweats off and put everything in the laundry," Chloe said, turning on the hot water. "And get in there."

"Are you joining me?" Rachele asked.

"No, sweetie, this isn't a sexy shower," Chloe said. "This is a you-stink-so-take-care-of-yourself shower."

Under the water she asked herself why she was allowing Chloe to take care of her when she'd refused to obey what would have been similar instructions from Robert. She pushed the thought away and let the water run over her. When she finally emerged, Chloe wasn't waiting seductively in the bedroom. Instead she was in the kitchen, from which emanated tantalizing odors.

Rachele followed her nose and found Chloe making an enormous omelet with most of the vegetables from Rachele's fridge.

"Some of these were less than crisp," Chloe said. "But they'll be good here." She flipped it out of the pan and onto a plate and put it on the table. It smelled heavenly. Rachele sat down and ate hungrily and Chloe made another for herself.

"How does that feel?" Chloe asked.

"A lot better," her friend said. "I'm so sorry. I can't help it."

"I know," Chloe said. "I'm glad you let me help for once. And you should have let Robert help."

"I know. But last night I wasn't ready," Rachele started, but Chloe interrupted.

"You weren't ready today either," she said. "I'm still trying to understand you as a slave, but I have to say this is one place that I know it will do you good."

Rachele looked at her, surprised.

"I didn't know if you were going to scream at me or throw me out or what when I came over," Chloe continued. "I wish I could have forced you to stop and eat and take care of yourself instead of trying to persuade you without causing a blowup."

"I can't just turn myself off," Rachele said.

"Exactly. Someone else has to," Chloe said. "By force if necessary."

"You're serious?" Rachele asked. "You think Robert should have forced me?"

"I am absolutely serious," Chloe said. "He should have held you down and gagged you and spanked the shit out of you."

"I was really angry," she said. "I don't think I would have let that happen."

"I thought you were property?" Chloe said. "Since when do you have a choice?"

Rachele looked at her.

"Robert was too gentle with you," Chloe said. "I know you're surprised to hear me say that. But you needed it."

"A spanking?" Rachele asked.

"I'm not sure," Chloe said. "Whatever it would have taken to snap you out of it and make you let go. I know for a fact that trying to care for you doesn't always work. I was truly not sure if you'd throw me out before."

Rachele thought about it.

"I don't think you would have allowed yourself to feel pleasure," Chloe said. "And I don't think it would have helped. That's why I didn't join you in the shower.

"But pain, you don't have a choice about," she continued. "You can't ignore it, you can't feel guilty about it, you can't let other things distract you from it."

"I don't like it the way you do," Rachele said. "You know that."

"This has nothing to do with enjoyment," Chloe said. "I'm talking about control, not pleasure."

Rachele found herself becoming aroused.

"You can't stop yourself," Chloe said. "I know your brain never stops. It's literally out of control. But I think Robert could get you under control."