Just Curious

Hello my pervy readers. The second part of Just Curious is done. This story took almost a year to write, and it 218 MS Word pages long. As before, I'll submit one chapter per week. I've broken it into 6 chapters. Enjoy, and please feed the author.

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Thursday. It's been five days since I was rescued by Jarod. Rescued might not be the right word, but it's as close as I can come to the right word. My wounds have been healing nicely, I even ventured out of the house yesterday and sat on the pier for a while, soaking up the sun and watching the waves. Jarod still checks up on me twice a day. He asks how I am, but I just can't tell him. He means well, but I couldn't bear to see the look of disappointment, anger, or shock on his face again. The image of him when he found me bound, whipped, and begging for more is etched in my memory. It still breaks my heart.

I think about Dustin every day. When I inspect the marks slowly fading on my skin, when I feel a twinge or an ache where he hurt me, and especially when I touch myself. I've thrown that damn business card away so many times, but it always finds its way back into my hand. I tried to burn it once, but I just couldn't let the flame consume it; I just couldn't. All I could do was stare at the mangled card. The corners are tattered; the metallic silver numbering is starting to fade where my thumb caresses it; it has multiple creases where my hand crushed it while my body exploded with pleasure.

It's almost 5:30; Jarod should be stopping by soon so I should probably try to compose myself. He's trying to be helpful, but I think I just need to be alone. I hear my cell phone ringing in the living room, so I go and answer it. It's Jarod, I wonder what's up.

"Hey Jarod"

"Hey. How are you doing?" He sounds nervous.

"I'm good. Are you still stopping by tonight?"

"uummmmm... Not so much. I need you to do something for me. I need you to go to the front door and open it."

"What? Why? What's at the front door?" I turn to the door, but it's solid, and I wouldn't be able to see anything unless I went to the window first.

"I need you to trust me. Please go to the front door and open it. I'm sorry, but I'm just not able to give you the help you need right now. Go open the door." That last one was an order. Jared's never done that to me before. My nervousness level just skyrocketed. "I don't know what else to do for you, but I think you need this. You can call me afterwards if you want." With that, he hangs up. Now what?

I slowly walk to the door. It didn't sound like he was sending me flowers. I try to figure out what it could be as I slowly open the door. I am greeted by a huge chest; not a box, but a man's chest. A large man. I look up to see the face of the man attached to the chest. He's has dark, almost black hair, dark almond eyes, and a beautiful smile. Not sure what else to do, I say "Hi."

He extends his hand and his deep masculine voice washes over me. "Hi, I'm Marcus. Jarod thought I should drop by and check on you tonight." I take his hand in mine and shake it. I'm still intimidated/awed by his sheer size. I'm tall, but this guy has to be at least 6'8"; and huge. He looks like a body builder or a bouncer or something. A really well dressed body builder, but ... huge!

I pull my hand back, still not quite sure what's going on. "Well, I'm fine. Ummm, but thanks for checking on me." Why is he here? Can I just close the door on him?

I see his eyes darken just a bit. "Look girl, I flew in on the tiniest two-seater flying deathtrap this morning, spent the last several hours in an intense discussion with Dustin and Harper. I have a headache, and my day is only going to get worse from here. Do us both a favor and invite me in."

The command in that last sentence is unmistakable. This man is like Dustin. That dark voice sends shivers down my spine. I take a step to the side and he ducks as he enters my home; my sanctuary. Now I'm confused, nervous, scared, and believe-it-or-not I think I'm starting to get wet. Damn.

He looks around my living room, then heads to the dining room and sits himself down at the table. He brings a canvas bag with him that he places on the tabletop, off to the side. I'm still standing by the door, watching him make himself at home. He sits at the table for a few seconds with his back to me, not doing anything. Slowly he turns around and looks directly at me; he raises his hand and wiggles his finger in a 'come here right now' kind of motion.

Duh. I feel like an idiot. I close the door and walk over to the table, sitting on the other side of him. He's has a slightly Spanish or Mexican look to him, but I didn't notice any accent when he talked before. He's clean shaven, well-groomed, dressed in a business-casual suit and tie, and still huge. He's just watching me and it's making me more nervous. Eventually I just look away and trace my fingers on the tabletop.

This silent observation goes on for several minutes. Why did Jarod do this to me? What does this guy want? Who is he? "What do you want?" OK, that wasn't the most polite moment of my life, but I didn't know what else to say and I couldn't just sit there anymore.

Marcus watches me for a bit longer, almost like he's still trying to decide something. He takes a deep breath, almost a sigh. "I need to see your wounds."

Ummm I was expecting more of a conversation or explanation or something. Anything. I'm just about to ask a million questions, when he speaks again. "Take off your clothes for me."

"What? No! No way." He's gotta be kidding, right?

He's calmly looking at me. I can tell he has a headache by the way his brow is creased. "You trust Jared, right? Jared asked me to come here and check on you. If you trust Jared, then you need to trust me right now. I know Dustin hurt you, but I need to see it for myself. There are a lot of difficult things I need to discuss with you today, and this is just the start. Please, take your clothes off so I can check your wounds."

I just stare at him, processing his words. I have one of those 'what the hell' moments; also known as 'moments of complete stupidity.' Everyone has them, when you do stuff completely out of character and afterward you don't really know why. I've been stripped naked before three guys already, what's one more? And I think, somewhere, deep down inside my confused damaged little psyche, I'm proud of those marks. I earned those marks.

I stand and stare directly at Marcus as I take my shirt off, then my bra, then slip my shorts off and place them all on the tabletop. Marcus looks me up and down, settling for a few seconds on my panties. "All of it."

"No." I have to protect some part of me to keep my sanity, and this is how I'm going to do it.

He watches me for another few seconds and raises his arm toward me, hand open and palm up. I put my hand in his, and I feel his warmth through my fingers. He gently pulls me toward him. He systematically checks my arms, my breasts, and my belly. Then he turns me around and checks the sunburst slowly fading on my back, he checks the back of my legs, and the inside of my thighs. Satisfied, he thanks me and tells me I can get dressed again.

I dress as efficiently as I got undressed and sit back down at the table. I stare at my hands again. It suddenly dawns on me that while I thought I was being strong and brave, Marcus was the one who just set the tone for this whole encounter. Whatever this turns out to be? He's going to ask for things, and I'm going to do them. I look up at him.

"Thank you for not fighting or arguing too much. Like I said earlier, this has been a long hard day already, and it's not even close to being over. I've spent most of the day talking with Dustin and Harper. He's still obsessed with you, but I think we've managed to make him understand that he's not to come near you ever again. I'm not guaranteeing that in writing, but I'm confident he understands the consequences if he does."

"What consequences? What's going on? Who are you? Why are you here?" Questions just tumble out of my mouth. He raises his hand to silence me.

"My name is Marcus, and for lack of a better word, I'm Dustin's mentor. So the brunt of this mess falls to me. Harper called me Saturday to tell me what happened, and at first I thought he was joking. Dustin has a very good track record with his submissives, what I saw on that video was vicious. What happened to ..."

"You saw me? You saw the video in that room?" Panic is starting to set in. Who else has seen it? What's going to happen to it?

"Calm down. Calm down. Harper has the video; although I'm not 100% sure Dustin doesn't have a copy of it somewhere. It's not going to be downloaded or sold at the local video store. You're going to have to trust me on this one. I know I'm going to ask you that a lot today, but this is a mess from top to bottom, and I'm going to do my best to clean it up."

"Who else has seen the video?"

"Harper skimmed through it when you were being prepped for anal. That's when he stopped everything. Then when Jared got you safely home, he returned to the club and demanded to see it. At that point, he and Harper watched the whole thing together. After that they called me, and I saw the edited version this morning. Per Harper, no one else has seen it."

"Jared saw it!" My boss! My friend! He saw everything. My head drops to the table with a thud.

Marcus doesn't move to touch me; he just sits there and waits until I look up again. "Jared is a good friend, and he's rightfully worried about you. He wants to help you. What happened to you was brutal, and never should have gone that far."

"Jared got me out if there. You said Harper stopped it, but it was Jared." I keep trying to find some flaw in this, something to convince me this is just a really bad dream. I try to remember what happened to me. What did Jarod all see when he watched it, but I just can't seem to remember much of that day?

Marcus is still calmly letting me try to piece this back together again. "Actually Harper had just shut Dustin down and was trying to take you home when Jared showed up. Between the two of them, they forced Dustin to let you go. He really didn't have any choice but to let them take you home." I just stare at him. Is this true? I don't know if I should trust him or not, except that Jared sent him here. That's all I have to go on. I'm starting to feel lost again. If I start crying again, I'm going to be livid. I haven't cried in two days. I need to get this over with as quickly as possible.

"What else? You said there were several things we had to go over. What are they?"

Marcus smiles. "Harper said you had a streak of bluntness in you. I even think he called it 'cute', and I would have to agree with him" I roll my eyes at him, men are dorks.

"So, back on topic. Dustin's actions with you are ..." Here he pauses as he tries to find the right word. "punishable. He broke three laws that all dominants in this club adhere to. Even though he owns the club, he is still bound by those laws. This is why I'm here. Harper is his employee, he has too many ties to Dustin to be objective; and Jared deferred to me also, as I have some experience in this."

"What laws? What punishment?" It never occurred to me that Dustin could be punished.

"Dustin broke three laws. First is he did not get informed consent before he played with you. You needed to know what was going to happen and consent to it. He just took what he wanted. Second, he broke your skin. Some people and clubs allow that, but Dustin does not. He doesn't allow it on the stage or in the private rooms. It's hard to control and it could leave permanent scars. Neither of those are acceptable. There are a few rare exceptions to this rule, but none of them apply to your situation. Third, and this is the biggie of the three; he did not release you when you asked to go home."

"I asked to go home?" Another thing I don't remember.

"You did. After the first whipping, but before the oral sex. At that moment, Dustin should have released you, gotten you dressed, and helped you home. No questions asked. No exceptions. For those three things, he will be punished tonight."

I don't want to ask, but I have to know. "How will he be punished?" I watch Marcus; I need to know what's going to happen to Dustin. I don't know why. I just need to know.

"I'm going to whip him tonight at the club. Ten strikes for each infraction." He's watching me for my reaction.

"You can't!" The shock is showing on my face. He can't whip Dustin 30 times.

"I can. He broke the rules, he gets punished. Simple as that. He understands and accepts it; you really don't have a say in it one way or another."

Getting dismissed like that just sets me off. The fucker. I start standing up, ready to throw this asshole out of my house. Marcus gives me this look and lifts his hands stopping me. "Don't even start with me, girl. It's been a long day." He stares at me till I sit back down, glaring at him. He just calmly looks at me. "Do you want to watch?"

"What?"

"You are the victim. Do you want to go to the club tonight and witness Dustin's punishment?" Again he's watching my reaction. Maybe he can read my mind like Dustin could.

I don't want to go back to that club. I'm not sure if I want to see Dustin again, even though he haunts my dreams at night. I don't want to see him, or anybody else, whipped. Do I? Do I want to see someone whipped? I think back to the first night at the club, those two stage acts. Maybe I do? Marcus is still watching me, waiting for me to decide. I look at him for a few seconds before I look down at the table top and shake my head no. I got so lost there, I'm not sure I can survive going back.

"It's your choice. There is no right or wrong answer. If you change your mind, just call Jared, and he'll make sure you're allowed in. Now, we're almost done. Only two more things, then I will leave you." He watches me, but I don't have anything to say. It's almost over.

He stands up and stretches; easily touching the ceiling with his hands. He reaches over and grabs the canvas bag he brought. "What shoes did you wear to the club?"

"What?" I seem to be saying that a lot today. I truly wish this conversation had some sort of linear aspect to it. It just keeps jumping around from one topic to another.

He motions to the two shoe racks by the kitchen door behind me. I turn to them. "Which shoes did you wear to the club the day Dustin played with you?" I look at him for another long second, still not knowing what's going on. I walk into the kitchen and grab the sandals I wore that day. "Why do you want these?"

He takes them and drops them into the canvas bag. "Now the clothes. What clothes did you wear that day?" He took my sandals! I like those sandals. I'm just staring at him now, this is so bizarre. He motions for me to move, so I start walking to the stairs. At the bottom of the stairs I turn to look at Marcus again, I'm not sure I want him in my bedroom. He's calm and confident. He motions with his head for me to continue, so I start climbing the stairs. As he looks around my bedroom, I go to my dresser and find the shirt and jeans I wore that day. Marcus drops them in his bag. "Bra and panties too."

I open the top drawer and look through my unmentionables. "I'm not sure which ones I wore." He steps toward me and unabashedly rifles through my things, eventually finding two that he seems to approve of and drops them in the bag also.

"How do you know those are the right ones?"

Marcus smiles at me. "I saw them just this morning, remember? Not something a man easily forgets." That was the first thing complimentary or even sexual he has said since he got here.

"I know Dustin gave you some creams and ointments for your skin, where are those?" I point to the bathroom; they're just sitting on the countertop. I watch as he takes the three items, and replaces them with three from his bag. He comes back out and tells me to use those instead.

"What else?" I just watch him, shaking my head no. His eyes darken. "What else do you have from that day? Jewelry, sunglasses, a memento, everything, anything?" The business card! He's fishing, so he doesn't know what it is, but he wants the card. I shake my head. "That's all. There's nothing else."

He reaches out with his free hand and grabs my hair. He pulls me into his chest, then steps forward, pinning my body between his massive frame and the equally large dresser. The heat from his body is searing me as the handles from the dresser dig into my back. He leans his head down and growls in my ear. "Give. It. To. Me. Now!"

As quickly as it started he releases me. I stumble a bit, but move toward the nightstand. With a shaking hand, I pick up the small, mangled card and clutch it to my chest. The voice again. "Give it to me." No no no no I can't.

Marcus lays the bag down and comes up behind me. "No." He can't have it. "It's mine." He reaches around me. His hands on me, trying to pry the small object out of my hands. I feel his strength as he pulls at my arms. I can't match that, so I start squirming, maybe I can break his hold on me. "No." I can feel the tears start to flow down my cheeks. It's mine.

I'm thrown onto the bed. The large arms still wrapped around me, his weight pressing me down. He forces me onto my back and pulls my arms apart and traps one down with his knee. Holding my other arm, he starts prying my fingers open. Panicking, I start blindly kicking and screaming. His weight pins me down, and a large hand covers my mouth, and the other hand is still getting closer and closer to the business card.

The card tears in two and Marcus quickly grabs both pieces and puts them where I can't see them. I'm crying uncontrollably on the bed. I can feel myself falling into the same darkness that was consuming me when I was with Dustin. He gave me that card. He wanted me to have it. And now it's gone. Does he know already? Is he disappointed? "Please, it's mine. Please give it back." The stranger is holding me gently, petting my hair and slowly rocking me back and forth. He's whispering in my ear, telling me it'll be OK. Eventually I stop crying, and the man just holds me.

I turn my head to look at him. "Please, please can I have it back? I need it."

Marcus gently wipes the tears off my face. "Shhhhh Shhhhh You can't have it back. You need to move forward, and this will only hold you back. You are strong, and beautiful, and a survivor. You will get through this. You will. I swear it."

He holds me for a few more minutes until I'm ready to move again. Marcus picks up the bag and helps me off the bed and we both go downstairs. I feel completely broken. Everything is gone. Dustin is gone. He guides me to the sofa and helps me sit, and then he sits on the chair across from me.

We sit in silence for a few more minutes. I think he knows I won't understand anything if he speaks right now. The silence continues until my mind stops reeling and I start thinking again. Marcus doesn't seem inclined to speak first, so it's up to me to get this horrible meeting over with.

"What's the second thing? You said there were two things left to do here. The first was to take my stuff, now what's the second thing, so I can get you out of my home?"

"Blunt and to the point, although not so cute this time." He watches me again. I don't know how to read him, so I just sit and wait.

"Your introduction to our world was not ideal." I can tell he's fumbling for the right words again. "I would like the opportunity to show you how it should have been."

"What exactly is that supposed to mean?" I don't want cryptic puzzles right now.

Marcus takes a deep breath. "In a few weeks, when you've had more time to heal, I'd like you to fly to Las Vegas for a week so I can show you how a submissive is played with properly."