Hitting Forty (Part 3)

Part 3

I ran out of my room, to find Alice and Patrick having sex on the floor. She was on all fours, he was behind her, pounding her so hard, that I thought she would break. I turned around and went back into my room. OOPS! I couldn’t tell if someone was getting killed, or if someone was having amazing sex? I must be getting old.

Later that day I received a text from Alice when I was in school. She said she was a little concerned about my sanity. Asked if I was ok, and said she got a little carried away, because she felt so comfortable around me. She asked if she owed me an apology. I said no, it was fine, I was not offended, or bothered; I was just concerned for her need for privacy. She said if I don’t have a problem, she doesn’t either. It was good to know, because now I had started to feel like a pervert, I liked watching, and that image kept replaying in my mind. I told her the only thing that I was thinking now was that Patrick must be awesome, and I hope one day to find sex that amazing.

School was going fine, and my family seemed to continue doing well without me. I call once in a while to say hello, and have polite conversation. My mom fills me in on what my brother Hank is getting into, and what my mother’s friends are complaining about now.

I was moving ahead in life like a heard of turtles. Things were slow and predictable; it was time to stir the pot. I wanted to feel alive, I hated a stagnant life, that flows like mud in a pond.

The opportunity came up, for me to do something, and I took it. I saw a post about working at home, so I went online and looked at their website. I was not surprised by what I saw. It was a web site that offered to build my profile and set myself up, so I could take calls from somewhat-desperate gentlemen. Yeah, if that is what you want to call them *gags*. Well, I looked through the profiles that were already set up. I was hesitant, because I didn’t want my family to find out what I was doing. It seemed easy though; I could set up a profile with a fake name. I am just terrified of posting a picture of myself, so maybe I could snag one off the internet.

This kind of work, if you can call it work, seemed more rewarding than any of the previous jobs I had before it. I invented a new personality, my name would be Scandalous Violet, and I took a different angle. I would dominate men over the phone, not talk dirty to them, but talk nasty to them, and give them orders. The men that called me seemed to enjoy it. I researched on the internet and found some groups on FB, and talked to people who had knowledge of these things. The people in one of the groups were very helpful in this matter.

It made me enough money to be comfortable, and I had more free time than in a regular job. I broke the rules of the company though, and allowed a few of the men to contact me through e-mail directly. The company didn’t notice, and so far I was getting away with it.

I had two that I used to follow all day. They had to text me everything they do all day, and ask permission for everything. From going to work, to the food they ate, and permission for each decision they made. They paid me well to keep them on track. They had goals to achieve, and I was motivating them, forcing them to do things right. Of course there were also punishments if they didn’t do what I asked. We progressed in how much control they gave me over them. These two men did their homework well, and it was paying off for them. I was proud of the progress they made, and I was happy feeling needed.

One of those men became mine, completely. I had been talking to him for months, and he was very kind, and caring. He was attentive and it seemed to me that all he wanted to do was please me, so I was inclined to become more personal with him.

Paul soon became my personal pet. After months of getting acquainted, I met him in person. Something I thought I would never do, but I was attracted by his sweet gentle demeanor and his submissiveness to me. He had a very warm smile and a very giving heart. He had bright blue eyes that sparkled when he laughed, and light brown hair. His smile could melt anyone! He was a little taller than I am, and a bit stalky. His arms were very strong, but he held me so gently. Since the beginning, he caught my attention, and our chats had become more personal after the first month. We had talked about everything and nothing. It seemed as if we had known each other forever. Paul started coming to the apartment, and cleaning it for us on Fridays. He would come in while I was at school, and I’d come back to a fresh apartment, and a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen table. Paul would have dinner and a bottle of wine on the table for us. Alice would join us; Paul would then serve us dinner, and then asked permission to join us. He was the most attentive man I have ever known; if there was ever a gentleman, it was him.

Things continued this way for a while. I had more free time on my hands, so I started making soaps and lotions in the kitchen during the day on and off. Alice was still working at the beauty salon. She was a hairstylist, and loved her job.

One day I was in the kitchen late, making soaps. I was in my bra and panties, because I tend to get messy. If I get soapy, I can just rinse off later. I heard a knock at the door. Patrick was early, he was supposed to be coming over when Alice gets off work after six, but this time it was a little after four. I didn’t think much of it, because I trusted him. He had already seen me in different stages of undress, and at different levels of drunk. He came inside, and followed me to the kitchen, sat on a stool, and I offered him a drink. Patrick asked for wine, and as I handed him a glass, he asked if I’d join him. I said, “why not.” I poured myself a glass as well. We talked for a while as I continued pouring soap into molds. I sipped on the wine, and after a while, I didn’t remember much.

I remember bits and pieces. I remember being on the couch, watching a movie. Then I was out like a light. I was not sure if I was asleep or not. I felt like I woke up, and saw Patrick on top of me. All I remember is pushing him off, but I felt disoriented, and strange. When I woke up groggy and looked around to find that I was on my bed, in only my panties. It was getting dark; I sat on the edge of the bed, and heard voices in the living room. I heard some shouting and then a door slammed. I got up and shuffled slowly to the bathroom, I felt sore all over. I didn’t know what happened, I figured I drank too much and fell asleep. I couldn’t wake up; my mind was foggy, and I couldn’t remember what happened. I remembered being in the kitchen making soap, and sipping wine with Patrick. I remember watching a movie, not even sure what it was. Little by little things started coming back to me. I remembered standing behind the couch; Patrick had ripped my bra off and bit my right breast. I pushed him away, and he got angry, he picked me up by my arms, and threw me over the couch. I don’t remember landing, it was strange.

I felt like I was walking in a dream. I went to the living room and found Alice on the couch, crying. She looked up at me, and she looked like she saw a ghost. I knelt down to see her, as she stared at me wide eyed. She asked what happened to me. I said, “I don’t know, I just woke up.” She grabbed my hand and pulled me to the bathroom. She turned on the lights, and I immediately understood why she was looking at me that way. I was covered in dark bruises in odd places, and a few bite marks.

I asked her why she was crying, she said she and Patrick had a fight, and they had broken up. She said Patrick told him he was in love with someone else, and he was getting married to that other woman. He said his family loved her, and they approved of the marriage, so it was done. Her name was also Alice, and she worked for him. They had been seeing each other since a month back.

After this, she asked me if he did this to me. I told her I had no idea what happened. I guess he did, but it was all hazy now. Her sorrow turned to anger, and Alice told me to get dressed and come with her to the hospital. I tried to object, but couldn’t think; I put my clothes on and got in her car. The whole experience was difficult, and more painful emotionally than the physical pain.

Alice was so torn and broken up about what happened. She had given the police Patrick’s information that day. I called the police station after a week, and no news. After two weeks I was told the police had finally picked Patrick up for questioning. I was hopeful, but that hope turned to rage when I was informed that nothing would be done.

After a month of calling and pestering the police, I was told that nothing would be done. They said that well, Patrick said I was drunk, and I had wanted him. The police said that there was no evidence of rape anyway, so there was nothing to follow up on. I was so angry and asked about the pictures. I want to press charges on assault, they said no, Patrick said I was into S&M, and that I liked it rough. WTF? They had to be kidding! I went with Alice to the police station and spoke to the patrol supervisor. All we got is “That was unprofessional of the officer to say to you. There is nothing we can do about your case; but we will have a talk with the officer who told you that.”

I was so tired, empty, broken, and done. I cuddled with Alice at home for hours. We just cuddled on the couch in silence while staring at the TV screen. After the rage eased up in my heart I was just numb. Alice felt guilty, because she brought Patrick into our home. I told her it wasn’t her fault, it was mine for trusting him, and letting him in. It was also my fault for not watching my wine glass. I felt it was also my fault that the wine glass was washed out and in the strainer, when we looked for it that day.

Well, the past is the past, and we may be knocked down, but eventually it would be time to get back up. Two months after this incident, I told Paul. I had been avoiding him for a while, I told him I had too much school work, and kept in touch barely. Two other guys, Luis and Oscar, kept texting me. It was easier to answer texts—it wasn’t that personal. When I couldn’t answer them Alice helped me; I still needed to make money to pay my bills.

When I spoke to Paul in person again, he listened to me, and held me. He didn’t judge me, or looked down on me. He held me and let me vent. It was a huge relief, to feel comforted this way. This is the first time I realized that what he had for me was a special kind of love; something real, something strong.

After the Patrick incident, I changed a lot. Alice changed too; we both felt betrayed and violated. Paul spent more time with us, and all three of us became closer than ever. It is not surprising that three people would be connected by such a traumatic event. Paul could see how it had affected us, and he was our rock in our time of need. It is probably cliché, but he was the one man who showed us that all men are not the same. He showed us that there are men who can love a woman without expecting anything in exchange; the kind of man without a hidden agenda.

I invited Paul into my bed because I felt safe with him. He was very kind, and took things slow. For almost a month, he would just hold me, and stroke my hair until I fell asleep. He wanted to give me time to heal, but I found comfort in him, and I couldn’t wait to become closer.

Our first time, he asked me permission each step of the way. He asked if he could touch me, if he could take off my clothes. I told him with my body language, and with my kisses, that I wanted him. I embraced him, body, mind, and soul. I felt his hot kisses, from my face down to my neck, and further down. Somehow Paul ignited a new fire inside me; it gave me the will to get back up and rebuild myself.

I decided that I needed a change. I had to ask my regulars to find another Domme to take them. I hated to do that to them, but I was not feeling strong enough to lead anymore. I found a job at a massage parlor as a receptionist. It was simple, and that made it pleasant. It wasn’t much pay, but it was enough for the time being. My boss, Lydia, was a kind lady; she had this calming essence about her.

As I saw a parade of men coming in for their appointments, I noticed something familiar. They reminded me of the men I had as subs. They all seemed unhappy at home, and were looking for relief elsewhere; in this case, in the form of a relaxing massage, a time out from reality.

Paul started spending more time at our place, so all three of us decided to find a place together. It was a small apartment, but big enough for us. Alice and I felt safer with Paul, but it didn’t hurt to live in a gated apartment building. It was a new beginning—a new life for all three of us.

Alice was reluctant to date anyone now. She stopped seeing the other guy she had on the side, and spent a lot of time at home with Paul and I. Eventually we started going out together. It was fun to walk into a bar, Paul with the two of us. He got some nice stares, and we had a great time together. I wasn’t jealous; sharing Paul with Alice was easy. We had spent months sitting at home together, holding onto each other, and now we were a team. I was very protective of Paul, he was such a sweet man, I would hate for anyone to take advantage of him. I trusted Alice, she would never hurt him.

I was still going to school, and I was starting to wonder why. Life was just propelling me into strange situations anyway. I wasn’t sure I wanted to continue, and I was burning out. That is when I ran into an Army recruiter in the common area during break. I suddenly thought it was the perfect opportunity to do something amazing. I wanted so badly to be able to say I made a difference. I didn’t want to survive life, I wanted to live! It just dawned on me, I wanted to live!

I was so excited about this new possibility, so we went out to celebrate. Paul, Alice, and I, walked down the street to a bar that was a little hole on the wall. We drank a bit too much, but somehow made it home. We came back to the apartment, and turned up the music. Paul was the most sober one; he did that to make sure he kept us safe. I felt bad for him this time, because Alice and I were getting a little wild. Paul didn’t seem to mind.

Alice and I started getting a little carried away, and Paul paid the price. We started taking our clothes off to the music, and playing around the living room. It had been so long since we had so much fun. Alice started kissing Paul, and I assured him this was ok with me, if it was ok with him. We teased him mercilessly for a good while; I almost felt bad for him. I kissed Alice, then Paul, then back. Alice and I were now in our panties, and chasing Paul around the couch. He pretended to run away, just to make it fun. When we caught him, we tore what little was left of his shorts off, he didn’t object. I grabbed his hand, and took him to my bed. Alice jumped on him, and they were making out, while I grabbed some stockings from my drawer. I asked Alice to move off him and help me. We tied him to the bed. A brass bed can prove very fun when needed. Paul kept giggling and squirming, which made me laugh. We didn’t tie him too badly, he could get loose if he had wanted to, I just like to play safe.

**Keep an eye out for part 4