Chords That Bind

Dear Readers,

I know I've been away for a while. My hearty apologies! Thanks for hanging in there with me and Cecilia (and Clara, and Abe, and James). I hope you all have lovely holidays. I'm crossing my fingers this makes it up in time for Christmas, but if not, just remember that there are 12 days... Here's the usual disclaimer about this being a work of fiction, so not to take everything so, so seriously. Your suspended disbelief is appreciated. Please know I don't condone or endorse anything done to another person without their consent. Also, a last thank you to the lovely comments and feedback I've received, especially those of you clamoring for the next installment. You really did spur me on to get this done.

Xoxo

Poeticlicense91

***

The next morning Clara woke, still nestled next to Abe, her tired feet snuggled under his legs for warmth. The soreness in her bottom throbbed a bit. She rolled over and saw Abraham was already awake and lucid, watching her sleep. She hugged him and whispered "Good morning Sir."

"Mmm... morning sweetness. How'd you sleep?"

"Fine Sir."

His hand gave her bare bottom a squeeze. Clara wiggled and moaned. "How about your bum? How's that feeling?"

Clara endured her husband's teasing and pretended to feel nothing. "Just fine thanks."

"Oh really?" He gave her a sharper pinch.

"Ow! Ouch! Okay, it's sore Sir."

"Good, wouldn't want to hear that I was loosing my touch." Abe smiled. The warmth and familiarity they had after a session was wonderful, as was the knowledge of his forgiveness. Her misdeeds were over and forgotten now.

Clara made to climb out of bed. She was going to start running a hot shower when Abe motioned over to her, pulling her into a surprise kiss. "There's one more thing Clara."

Clara raised her eyebrows. She had momentarily forgotten that she had another twelve with the crop due to her. But that wasn't what her husband was referring to. As he lay in bed and looked at his wife sitting next to him on the edge of their bed he said gently, "You need to apologize to James, Clara. I wasn't the one you hurt yesterday."

Clara swallowed. "He knows?"

"Yes Clara."

"Okay. I'll talk to him."

"Clara, don't push him. He isn't ready. I tried myself last night. He isn't there, and all it will accomplish is to hurt him all over again."

Abe knew her so well. She nodded. "Yes Sir. I'll apologize."

"Good girl. I'll join you in a few."

***

After her husband left for work, Clara made some tea and pulled out some clotted cream and scones to bring James some breakfast. She knew she owed him an apology.

James heard someone climb the stairs and stopped playing, nervous and anxious that Cecilia had decided to come to him again. Relief and disappointment mixed when he saw Clara. Although he was still hurt by Clara's weak machinations, he wasn't mad at her anymore. He knew everything had been well intentioned. He had set himself up for this sort of punishment. It was no more than he deserved, and he couldn't fault Clara for doing what she thought was helpful.

"James?" Clara seemed uncertain and oddly self-conscious. "Can I interrupt?"

James hadn't slept well. His practice was already showing signs of his fatigue. "Sure Clara. Go on and sit." He turned, sitting on the piano bench, facing the small loveseat in the studio.

She did, sitting on her hands. "James, I think you know what I did last night..." Clara paused, waiting for James to cut her off or start reprimanding her. Instead he nodded and let her get the words out on her own. He'd already forgiven Clara.

"I thought that maybe if... well... if maybe you had a reason, you would finally go after Cecilia." As Clara spoke more, the words came easier. "And it wasn't right of me to try to make you jealous or manipulate you. I'm sorry for being so careless with our friendship and your feelings."

"I appreciate it Clara. I know. I forgive you."

Clara hadn't realized how close to tears she was. She jeopardized not just her friendship with James, but Abraham's as well. James saw her contrition and stood to give her a hug. It was a bit self-serving, because he needed one badly. He had a firm grip on his emotions. He hadn't appreciated Clara's actions, but her intent was warming. "Please don't do it again though."

Clara disentangled herself, calmer now. "No. I promise."

"Thank you." James was so hurt. Clara could feel all the sadness in him. But Abe had specifically told her not to push him or say anything further. "Thanks for the tea Clara."

"Think nothing of it." Clara got up to leave James to his practising.

"No. Really Clara. I appreciate your friendship. I love you and Abe, and I know you only ever try to help."

She smiled at James. At least in his loneliness, James knew he had his friends.

***

James was going to leave tomorrow. Nearly everything had been settled. He had his bags packed, his itinerary confirmed, and felt fully prepared for his performances. He just had one more thing to do. He picked up his mobile and called Josh.

" 'Lo James. How are you?"

So like Josh to pretend he didn't know why he was calling. "I'm brilliant Josh. And you?" James couldn't keep the sarcasm out of his voice.

"Alright James. I know why you're calling. I'm making progress."

"How much longer Josh?" James was impatient. Every day that delayed Cecilia's homecoming was a day he failed her.

"Just another month or so."

James rolled his eyes. "It's been months. How is that supposed to be progress?"

"James... Listen, it's getting done. I got her clearance for her passport a few days ago. That took some doing since her license is expired. I had to

renew

it for her. Do you know what that means?"

From the tenor of his voice, it sounded to James as if Josh had been doing some things of questionable legality. That changed things. It was a lucky thing that Josh had always been gifted with computers. James softened his voice.

"That is some progress. Very good then. Thank you for the update."

"James, I'm going above and beyond for you. I know you never ask for favors unless they're for someone else, but please don't doubt me."

James was a bit abashed. "You're right. I'm sorry. I do appreciate your help in this."

"The visa will be the last thing we need. I'll call you as soon as I get it sorted. We have to be patient. I don't want to draw attention to Cecilia's suddenly renewed license, her new passport

and

her request for a visa. We want to keep her under the radar."

"Right. I'll be abroad for a few months starting tomorrow. But do let me know as soon as it is ready. I owe it to Cecilia."

"I promise James. Safe travels."

James ended the call. It was

something

to tell Cecilia. It should reassure her while he was gone that he wasn't planning on keeping her here in London indefinitely.

***

The mood was different as the four of them sat down for dinner tonight. Cecilia thought James was looking in better spirits than he had for weeks. It was probably because he was leaving tomorrow. She wondered if getting away from her was part of his good mood.

Clara was always working to make sure people around her were enjoying themselves. To that end, she made beef Wellington for James for a 'bon voyage' dinner. Abraham was somber. He knew it was a mistake for James to leave Cecilia here while he shielded himself from his feelings. But after Clara's meddling, he had resolved to do no further harm that way.

Clara's meal was a triumph and James enjoyed it immensely. He raised a glass to her. "I'm going to miss you all. But I think I'll be back before you miss me, or my incessant playing that is. Thank you for being my family, and making it always worth coming back home."

James was feeling sentimental. The last months since retrieving Cecilia had been trying for him, but he had never felt such warmth for Abe and Clara. Soon he'd make good on his word to Cecilia and he could start healing. But not before.

Cecilia was quiet as they ate. James noticed and decided now was a good time to share Josh's update with her. "Cecilia, I had a call with the embassy." That caught her attention immediately.

"Josh said he's secured your passport. He's working on getting you a visa and then you'll be set to go back to Philadelphia."

James smiled as he delivered this news to her, Cecilia noticed. He was ready to get rid of her. This made her feelings all the more muddled. She didn't want him to leave now. After the lovely evening they had shared at the opening night of "

Alice"

, Cecilia had hoped they'd at least be able to grow a friendship. But in the intervening weeks, he maintained his cool distance. Now, Cecilia greatly feared that if he left tomorrow she'd never see him again. If her visa came through while he was away she had no doubt that James would have Abe put her on a plane as soon as possible.

James read the look of disappointment on Cecilia's face as impatience. "Well, I know it's taking longer than you'd like, but even the Americans get something right now and then." The jest didn't go over as well as he'd thought.

Clara and Abraham both didn't want to think about sending Cecilia away, especially while James was on tour. Cecilia asked, "Any idea how long that will take?"

"Josh was evasive. Still a few months in the offing is my best guess."

Abraham diverted the discussion of Cecilia's departure. "So what's your favorite piece that you're performing this time James?"

"I get to do the Pathetique a few times. It's definitely a standout, even if it is a bloody difficult piece. Natasha and I are playing the Rachmaninoff in Berlin and then across Eastern Europe."

Cecilia had learned over the months the names of the pieces she had learned when she was trapped with Master no—Lace. James had told her his name, but it was hard to think of that man by any other name. The Rachmaninoff cello sonata was devastatingly beautiful. But it was the Beethoven piano sonata that had become her favourite as well. She sighed audibly.

"What's wrong Cecilia?" Abe never missed a trick. Why was that suddenly so annoying?

"Nothing..." There was nothing to loose by giving air to the thought she had, so she said, "I was just thinking how amazing it would be to hear you play in concert James."

"Oh..." James found this awkward. His mind turned to the time she had come to the attic while he was practising. Ordinarily, he would have just invited her to come listen while he rehearsed. But he had literally pushed her out of the studio. He knew she had a genuine appreciation for music... it was part of what had trapped her with him to begin with... "Perhaps you'd like to hear me when I get back home? I'm finishing the tour here in London. I could get you a good ticket."

Cecilia's heart was beating so hard. She would get to hear him properly, even see him one more time? "I'd love to. After all, I got to see Clara dance." A real smile graced Cecilia's features and the mood lightened over the dinner table.

The next morning, Cecilia woke to say a last goodbye to James. She knocked on his bedroom door. It was the first time she had ventured into his personal space since the disastrous encounter in his studio. The door was ajar, and she peeked inside. Everything was orderly and neat. James had already left for Heathrow.

***

The house it was eerily quiet. James' presence was conspicuously absent. More than just the music was missing. Cecilia found herself very lonely. Even though she hadn't seen much of James before, she felt abandoned. A tangible connection she felt when James was in the house was gone, and Cecilia was bereft in his absence. "You're being ridiculous Cecilia." She scolded herself. "What? Did you want James to bring you along? Did you think you could travel the world with him? You can't even get home right now. You should want to go back to the States. You should want to leave this all behind."

But she didn't. Cecilia was secretly dreading going back. She had more of a life here then she had in Philadelphia. James had seen to it that Cecilia had clothes and a mobile, and told her to make herself at home in his townhouse. "More silliness! You already know how much you cost him. You don't even earn your keep. Why would he, or any of them really, want to keep you around?" This voice sounded suspiciously like her mother again, but there was something relaxing about her self-deprecation. That was a normal part of her life before she'd been abducted. She must be getting better.

***

Clara bounded home invigorated. The next production was a company premier:

A Streetcar Named Desire

. Clara had foolishly left her umbrella at home today and was caught in a late afternoon rain. It did nothing to dampen her spirits, even if it did soak through her light pullover and thin leotard.

Clara opened the door to the townhouse and shook off her wet outer-ware. She bent over to pull off her tartan-patterned rain boots, and was startled by Abe's nonchalant appearance. He leisurely leaned against the corridor, wearing track pants and a fitted t-shirt.

"Hello Sweetness." Abe was grinning widely.

"Hello..." Clara answered coyly.

"Well?" Abe prompted

"Yes?"

"Is that how you address me little girl?"

"No Sir." Clara shook her head earnestly.

"That's better. We wouldn't want to have to add to the day's tally on account of you forgetting something as simple as that, would we?"

Clara was a bit confused. "No... Sir?"

"I'm disappointed Clara. Did you forget about your punishment? I didn't."

Clara had not quite forgotten. She just hadn't remembered to remind Abraham. She was caught. Her punishment had been delayed numerous times. It seemed today was the day.

"Go on little girl. Up the stairs with you! You'll catch pneumonia in those wet clothes." Clara didn't quite move quickly enough, and felt a sharp smack on her bum. She yelped and scurried up the stairs.

Abe admired the view from below, and followed his wife at a more leisurely pace. He had prepared the bedroom ahead of Clara's return. Usually, Abe liked to make Clara kneel and wait for him, but he was feeling spontaneous. When Clara made to kneel, he instead guided her to the bed while starting to peel off her clothes with purpose.

Clara helped by stepping out of her leotard, leggings and leg warmers. Once completely bare, Abe encouraged Clara to lie face-down on the bed over a stack of fluffy pillows that presented her bottom beautifully.

Clara's insistence that they create the space together had been tiresome at first. He had no desire to pick out paint, but there were other benefits: the functionality of their bed, storage, concealed hooks, and wall-mounted rings met their needs perfectly.

Cuffs, already attached to rope at the four corners of the bed, were laid out. They were quickly buckled around Clara's wrists and ankles, tethering her limbs to the corners of the bed. Her body was positioned over the pillows, offering up her bottom. There was a fair amount of slack. Abraham took a moment to admire and assess. He was determining exactly how the rest of her punishment would be meted out. Clara knew better than to break the silence, but she started to squirm self-consciously.

Abe looked over his array of implement options. The crop, the wooden paddle, a strap, and a flogger were the finalists. He decided to reserve judgment a bit longer, and let Clara participate in the choice he made.

"Clara, why are you tied down like that?"

"Because I've been bad, and I want you to forgive me. I meddled in affairs that didn't concern me." She didn't try to deflect. Her manipulations in regard to James

were

the reason for her initial punishment.

"That's right Clara. That's the right answer." Abe decided that Clara's honest answer to that question was worth refraining from using the strap.

"Clara, do you remember how many spanks you have left?"

Clara bit her lip. Sighing, she told him, "Twelve Sir."

"That's more than I remember sweetness. Why is that?" Abraham wanted to hear her say it.

"Because Sir, I came without permission. It was originally six, but... my lack of control doubled the number." Clara was blushing. It wasn't often that a ballerina admitted to losing control of her body. Abraham breathed deeply. He took great pride in being able to overwhelm Clara's beautiful composure.

"That's right Clara. Good girl. Tell me: What do you want me to use to properly spank your naughty bottom?"

Abraham's playful, premeditated interrogation was making Clara's pulse quicken. She loved the way he asserted his control. His praise of her answers made her feel bold. She knew what she wanted him to punish her with: "The flogger Sir."

"Interesting choice." Abraham mentally crossed the flogger off the list. It was the easiest and most sensual of the available implements; Clara wasn't off the hook yet. That left the crop and the paddle.

Clara could hear Abraham pondering. She may have overestimated her say in this. The flogger wasn't much of a punishment. She knew that. In fact, it was her favorite, but hope springs eternal.

Abraham had recently used the crop. That narrowed it down. He reached for the wooden paddle. Variety, they say, is the spice of life. He laid it gently across Clara's cheeks, rubbing the smooth surface against her bum. She shivered. It was cold. "I think this is more appropriate however." Abraham brought the paddle around so that Clara could see. This one stung like the Dickens, with holes drilled through the polished wood. Clara breathed deeply and closed her eyes. "Yes Sir," she said, hanging her head.

"At least twelve isn't too many. It will be over quickly." Clara thought to herself. Abe moved out of her line of sight. She braced herself, clenching her bottom. She waited. A minute passed by. Then two. She relaxed her body and... "SWACK!"

"One Sir," Clara gasped. The pain lit up all of her nerves and the sting settled across her skin. The pillows supported Clara's taught little body. Instead of the next stroke, Clara felt Abe's fingers part her sex. She was already wet. She could hear him murmur approval. She arched her back, feline, forgetting her spanking for the moment. Abe pressed a finger inside, then a second. He pressed her clit with his thumb. She let out a tiny whimper. "Such a bad little girl. You shouldn't be enjoying your punishment Clara." Abe started circle her clit more insistently. "Mmmm... yes Sir, I mean- no Sir. Oh!"

"SMACK!"

"Two Sir." The impact distracted Clara. Abe came around and palmed her breasts. Reaching underneath her, he found her nipples already standing out, demanding attention, so Abraham obliged. Clara turned her head and tried to nuzzle her husband, looking for a kiss, more contact, more closeness. Instead, he gave her pink tips a sharp twist and a pinch, and moved away. His hands found her stinging buttocks and he pet her gently, taking the sting away. He didn't warm her up this time, so the motions were soothing and Clara wanted to purr in contentment at the direction her punishment had taken. Abe felt hot-blooded and in control. Clara always followed his lead so willingly. He dipped his fingers between her folds again. She was already so hot and bothered.

He played with her more, longer this time. Clara was panting. She used the slack in the ropes to pull her body closer to Abe and to the sinful stimulation. "Oh Sir, please?"

"No Clara." Abe slowed his fingers, just lightly touching her. "You aren't being a very good girl. You're here because you came without permission. You should be asking for your spanking, not an orgasm." Clara stilled with shame. Abraham however, continued his digital exploration. Clara struggled to remain still. She bit her lower lip, and shied away from his hand. She had some room to move, but was unable to escape him. She didn't want to come without permission, but Abraham wouldn't relent. "Please? Please Sir?"