Punishing Petra [Locks and Chains 3] (14 page)

He stomped into the master bedroom and saw Kelly asleep on the bed. He wanted to rage and scream at her to get her fucking ass out of bed. Then he noticed the pill bottles on the floor next to the bed. He felt her pulse and checked her eyes and next he called the ambulance. Joel was also admitted for dehydration, and Kelly was diagnosed with postpartum depression. He put Joel in day care at the hospital and was always home with him as Kelly began her treatment. Things weren’t good, but he managed. Sleep was a pipe dream, and he was constantly stressed and fatigued.

But finally, as Joel’s second birthday came around, things were getting better. He’d finished his internship a year earlier and was well into his residency, and with that his hours were more manageable. It was the fact that he was working less which allowed him to notice the affairs Kelly was having. He was so stupid in his blind trust of her that he didn’t see she’d been having affairs since day one. Having to go to the day care and get a swab from his own son to confirm paternity was one of the lowest points in his life. He had promised himself even if it came back negative he was still Joel’s father and always would be, but he needed to know if there was anyone else out there with a claim to his son. Two days later when the test came back positive, he was more excited and proud than the day Joel was born. It was the one gift he had been given in the hell that was his life. He hated her and wanted her gone.

So many nights he lay awake beside her and despised her. But he was caught completely emasculated, and he didn’t know how to proceed. They continued with their marriage with everyone believing he’d forgiven her for the affairs. How the hell anyone thought he could forgive her he didn’t know. He just tried to forget and move forward. His only saving grace was the club, where he could feel like a man and not some pussy. He didn’t allow them to play at home. He was too worried about beating the shit out of her. And if he’d learnt anything from living the lifestyle, it was to never play when you were angry. Just before Joel’s third birthday, his world came tumbling down.

He walked into the house, not knowing whether he would find a man in the house or his wife stoned. Hell, he didn’t even know whether there’d be anything in the house. Joel held his hand as they talked about his day. The house felt empty. It felt as though it was an empty void. He didn’t want to call out because he didn’t want to find her and deal with whatever mood she’d be in. And to this day that caused him guilt but not as much as the guilt he felt for being thankful she’d done it and she had left them. He could hear music playing from the bedroom, the Boyz II Men song “It’s So Hard to Say Good-bye to Yesterday.” She always played that when she went into her depressive stages. He settled Joel in his room to play and told him he was just going to change and then they’d make a late night snack. He could see candles flickering from the bathroom doorway as he entered their bedroom. He took a deep breath to prepare himself for the confrontation, for the crying, and for the screaming fits. When he walked into the room, he could taste copper in the air, a smell he knew too well. He ran to the bathtub and there lay the love of his life. The woman he loved and hated in equal proportions lay in a tub filled with her blood. He immediately checked for a pulse. She was cold to the touch. She’d been dead for hours. He looked at her face and remembered her beauty, her laugh, and all the times they had loved. He pulled her to him and wept, holding her against him. He had dreamed of leaving her, but his love for her kept him there. He was miserable, but he hadn’t been able to imagine life without her. He kissed her forehead and thanked her for leaving him and for leaving Joel and giving their son a chance to be happy.

* * * *

“After going through all that, I’ve been frightened to date anyone in the lifestyle.” He finally looked over at Petra and saw that she was wiping tears from her face.

“No shit.”

He laughed at her comment, and it helped to lift their dreary mood.

“I’m so sorry, Kyle, I really am. You should be proud of yourself for what you have been through and how you’ve raised your son.”

He would always wonder if there was something more he could have done. He did know she would have killed herself eventually because she just wouldn’t stay on her bipolar medication.

“You know you shouldn’t think we are all like Kelly. There are many subs just like myself who are normal people who just like some kink in our lives.”

“I’m starting to see that.” He felt like a heavy weight had been lifted off his chest. He’d confessed his sin and the horror of his life, and Petra had told him to be proud of himself. She didn’t blame him. She didn’t judge him. She just accepted him.

“Come away with me. Let’s you, me, and Caleb go away for a long weekend, just the three of us.”

“Is this a vanilla weekend?” she enquired with a smirk on her face.

“No, a wicked weekend.”

“Oh! I like that. A wicked weekend.” She snuggled against him. “You know you did the best you could, Kyle. You took care of your son when many would have just walked away.”

“Yeah.”

“Good, now let’s talk about this wicked weekend.” She kissed him, a simple peck, and then winked at him, and he couldn’t stop himself from laughing. She was perfect, just perfect.

Chapter Fourteen

“Dr. Gordon, I think the patient in bed four is right up your alley,” Nurse Daniels said as he was writing up the latest chart at the nurses’ station. He looked up and saw the wry look on her face. She assisted him in the club clinic one day every two weeks, and if she was telling him a patient was right up his alley, then it referred to one that was injured during sexual play or a sexual act. “Is it a club member?”

“Nope, looks like newbies.”

Damn, this was going to be awkward. He walked over to the bed in question and pulled the chart from the emergency room intern’s hand.

“Sir, I think we need to call the police and get hospital security to remove the husband.”

Double damn, the intern was planning on reporting it. If it truly was abuse, he was the first one to call in the police and get the victim help. But he also knew that to an untrained eye some BDSM injuries could look like abuse.

“Wait until I’ve examined the patient, Marcus.” He then dismissed the intern and entered the closed-curtained emergency bay.

“I’m Doctor Caleb Gordon. And you are Mrs. Wilson, is that correct?”

“Yes.”

The woman on the bed looked to be in her late forties and extremely embarrassed. He’d only ever seen that shade of red on his fair-skinned, redheaded sister.

“Okay, Mrs. Wilson, would you like to tell me about your injuries?”

“Well, umm, you see, it’s not, well, what you think. My husband doesn’t abuse me. We just wanted to spice things up a bit.” She struggled and stuttered. If possible, her face went even redder. Yep, this was right up his alley.

“Doctor, it’s my fault entirely. You see I, umm, well, we read some books, and I must have gotten carried away.” Her husband butted in. The man took full responsibility, and he stood next to his wife, holding her hand, comforting and protecting her. He looked to be in his early fifties, fit and healthy. A man used to being in charge. He would make a good Dom, of course, once he was properly trained. So many people didn’t look for the resources available to them before they unfortunately ended up in this predicament.

“Let’s see what we have here.” Mrs. Wilson carefully stood from the bed and removed the gown from her shoulders with her back facing him. As the fabric moved down her saw the welts all over her back. The length and depth of the marks screamed crop damage to him.

“I’m guessing this was done with a crop?” He directed his question to Mr. Wilson.

“How did you know?”

“One of the admitting nurses noticed your case and brought it to my attention. I have some knowledge of the lifestyle.”

“Lifestyle?”

Hold on a second, this guy took a crop to his wife’s back and didn’t understand the lifestyle, or in fact didn’t even understand the name. Didn’t he know about the Internet? Maybe he hadn’t bothered to research? Hell, he wanted to take a crop to this man’s back. He understood and accepted even untrained people cropping the ass and thighs. These areas could take even an untrained hand and not suffer serious, life-altering damage. But, to take a crop to a partner’s back with no understanding of kidney or other organ placement and especially no knowledge of the necessity of avoiding the spine was just pure madness. Fuck, he took a deep breath. It was not that this man wanted to hurt his wife, he just needed additional information on how to play safely.

“Mr. Wilson, is this the first time you have experimented with a crop?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, first off you should never attempt anything on your wife’s back until you are trained and have a full understanding of the anatomy of the human body. Next time, place the marks on the fleshiest part of her ass. I also want you to hit the side of your own thigh first to understand the strength of each swing and how much damage or pain it will cause her.”

“We’re not going to try this again. Look at what I’ve done to her. I’m so ashamed of myself. I mean, we read these books and it sounded so easy and, well, so exciting. And then we try it and here we are in the goddamn hospital.”

“I have to say I thought it sounded like a great idea, erotic pain and all, but it hurt really badly,” Mrs. Wilson added.

“I understand, and let me say unfortunately it’s not uncommon when couples experiment for it to go bad. Having to be admitted to hospital is a touch worse than usual, but if you want to start in the lifestyle, which is the BDSM lifestyle by the way, please educate yourselves. Start gently and work your way up. There are clubs, groups, and munches, which is a meeting in a vanilla setting for likeminded people to meet. The club that I attend, the Locks and Chains, has a training program and workshops for beginners and up. For dominants and submissives, you can learn safe techniques and even understand the emotional and psychological side as well. There are couples’ workshops also. Don’t let one bad experience put you off. Obviously you’re both interested or you wouldn’t have tried it.” He patted Mrs. Wilson on the shoulder. “Now I’m going to get you to CT to ensure you have no internal damage, and then I’ll dress your back.”

“Um, doctor, could I also get you to, umm, look at my, umm…” Mrs. Wilson’s eyes dropped to the floor instantly.

“Anal or vaginal?” His money was on anal.

“Anal,” she whispered quietly. He felt sympathy for her. After an examination he discovered very slight tearing, nothing that wouldn’t heal itself naturally with some aloe vera gel.

“Okay, Mrs. Wilson, we’ll see you after the CT scan.” He placed his hand on Mr. Wilson’s back and directed him to the side of the exam room. He pulled out his wallet and took out a card for the club.

“I expect to see you in the dominant beginner’s classes,” he stated, clearly asking him without words to defy him.

“You think we could try again after this?”

“Mr. Wilson, I think you have a beautiful wife, and you both are looking for something more. But I also think you need to become a student before you play with her again. A bare-handed spanking on the ass and toy play with her vagina only for the next two weeks, and before you try anal play again, I want you to obtain an anal training kit, most sex shops sell them. In some cases they’re not needed, but some individuals require their anal muscles to be stretched first and you wife is the type that needs it.” He allowed some sympathy to come through his expression. “I understand you didn’t know, and I believe you will never do this again. Learn and have fun but most of all love her.” Besides, during his Dom training he got to be cropped and so he would get his own back. Mr. Wilson needed to experience that before he asked it from his wife. If Mrs. Wilson didn’t get a tennis bracelet out of this, he would be shocked.

“Thank you, thank you so much and I will.”

Caleb walked away, thanking the gods he was in the ER for this case. God, he hoped there was no kidney damage, though. If that was the case, he didn’t think they would ever get back on the horse again. Not to mention the risk to Mrs. Wilson’s life. There really needed to be more doctors who understood these types of injuries. He walked into the break room to see Kyle sitting on the couch eating a sandwich.

“Some of us have the life, don’t we?” he said as he walked up to the coffee station.

“Give me a break. I’ve been on a ten hour shift, and this is the first time I’ve gotten to eat something in six hours,” he whined.

“Want a medal or a chest to pin it on?”

“You know, I’ve never understood that saying. Anyway, you, me, and Petra are going away this weekend, and before you tell me that you’re not available, I’ve already looked at the rosters and arranged for your on-call shift to be covered, so no excuses.”

Shit, he dropped his cup and coffee spilled all over the bench. Fuck, fuck, fuck, this was not what he needed. He’d convinced himself to walk away.

“Um, Kyle, I don’t think that would be a good idea.”

“What, a wicked weekend with a masochist who’s willing to be our personal sex slave the entire weekend? Yeah, I guess putting it that way, it’s a bad idea.” He stood. “What the fuck, Caleb?”