The first rays of early morning sun filled the tight confines of James's car. He had been driving for hours and had a couple more to go before they reached his destination. He should be exhausted but his mind was filled as it had been so many times over the last eight years; filled with her. He looked across the seat at her. She was curled up like a small child. Her hand under her cheek as it pressed against the cool glass of the window.
He cursed under his breath as he saw for the first time the depth of the ravages that she had allowed. The dark circles underneath her eyes looked as if someone had hit her, creating black eyes. And she had lost weight; a lot of it, perhaps close to two stone or more. Her olive complexion had taken on an ashen hewn. She hardly resembled the woman he had lusted after since he was eighteen.
"Fucking bastard," he cursed again under his breath. The man had never been one of his favourite. How could he be when he had the one thing that James wanted most in the world? Had wanted since those first platonic emails eight years ago. He had been a screwed up kid with nothing better to do than play video games and be emails pals with a lonely older divorcee.
He smiled at the memory. How fucked up he had been. Confused about so many things: what he wanted to do with his life, how to approach girls, hell just about everything. And like a patient and loving mother she had been there for him, offering him advice and support that his own mother just never seemed able to.
But his feelings for her had been decidedly un-motherly. It had not taken long, only a few weeks for their emails to take on a slightly kinky bent. She had been reluctant at first. His age bothered her; he was only slightly older than her eldest son. Once that Pandora's Box of sexual fantasy had been open, he was not to be deterred. A couple of very naughty pics had lured her into his web.
His web? Was that what this was? He had not known what he planned to do when he made the last minute decision to travel from his home in northern Wales to London for the memorial service. It certainly was not to honour a man that he pretty much despised. No, she was definitely the reason he had gone. For the first time since he had grown up as it was, she was free. Free of that other man's claim to her.
He looked at her again. The sun light glinted off the silver locket that rested just above her soft tits. His cock stirred in his tight jeans even as anger rose in his guts. Desire and hatred warred in his mind and his body at the sight of the other man's claim to her. He knew what that locket was. He had seen it on her profile for five years. Her collar. She still wore the bastard's collar. Another man's collar. He wanted to reach across and rip it from her neck. Throw it out the car window so that she could never find it again. He gripped the steering wheel tighter and forced his eyes back on the road, cursing once more.
But what right did he have? Though they had been friends for eight years, until less than twelve hours ago they had never laid eyes upon one another. He did not know what he had expected when he went there. But her casual, "Have we met?" was not it. Eight years. Even before that bastard came into her life, he had been her friend. Hell, he had even dommed her through a couple of rough days when her first dom did a real number on her head. After all that she said "Have we met?"
Granted his answer has been honest. He had never had the pleasure. Back then he had been too shy, too insecure. Hell, just too fucked up to meet face-to-face as it were. No, all of their friendship had been emails and texts, not even a phone call or video message. It had been at least six years since she had even seen a picture of him. He supposed that in that time he had grown, matured, changed. Still some part of him was disappointed and angry that she had not recognized him. After all they shared.
Especially as their friendship had deepened once again over these past three months. There was no doubt that man had come between them. James had grown tired of listening to the woman he loved sing the praises of a man that was never good enough for her, never loved her as he should. Every time he tried to point out how unfair the man was being, she had dismissed him. It had placed a real strain upon their friendship. To the point that they had messaged only a couple of times a month for the past couple of years.
But as she always did when she need a true friend, someone to talk to and lean on, she sought him out after the bastard was gone. James knew it was not polite to curse the dead but as far as he was concerned good riddance to bad rubbish. What man could have a woman like Claire and hide her away, deny her even? Owned and collared his arse! If you own something like that, you are proud of it; you show it off. He would have.
But not that fool, he had been so afraid of his family finding out about his kinks that he had caused Claire pain. Not just these past three months as they pushed her aside, but even when he was alive. Never once had the bastard introduced her to his sons. Instead she was expected to sneak quickly from the house any time they visited, removing any hint of her presence. It was something that James could neither understand nor forgive. Especially when he saw the ravages that it had taken upon her.
"Bastard," he cursed once more.
She stirred in the sit next to him. He gripped the wheel tighter and stared at the long, winding road. He said a silent prayer that she would go back to sleep. He did not want another argument like they had last night. He did not want to have to offer explanations for which there was no logical answer. Not yet. Not until he had her safely ensconced in his bungalow. Then he would deal with whatever came. But it was not to be that simple.
"Where are we? Where are you taking me?" she demanded as she stared out the window at the overcast and gloomy Welsh countryside.
James sighed. She deserved answers. But that did not mean he was going to give them. Not yet anyway. "Wales. And my bungalow." He replied, keeping it simple and truthful.
She shook her auburn head, "No, you are turning this car around and taking me back to London. Now!"
James chuckled. His palm itched to turn her over his knee and spank that curvy backside. If she was going to act like a childish brat, he would treat her like one. "Or what?"
"You can't do this. It is kidnapping or something. I don't even know you." She spewed logic but the chaotic manner in which she did told James all he needed to know. If her intelligence was abandoning her, then things were not good. She was scared certainly, but he was right, she was on the edge of a break down.
He knew it well. It was he and not that man that had seen her through one before. He was the one that she had turned to when her first dom/sub relationship failed. He was the one that had taken control of her confused and hurting mind then. He was the one that had dommed her through that pain. And he would again. Even if she was not asking this time.
Why she had not asked for his help these past few months bothered him still. She should have, she obviously needed someone to control her. She knew she could have. Hell, they had gone back to dozens, even hundreds, of text messages every day. But not once in all that time had she sent the one message he longed for the most. 'Dom me through this.' He sighed, but whether she asked or not, that was exactly what he was going to do.
