Other lucrative parts of my career take place online. Sometimes I feed on the incomes of business moguls I financially dominate, or I help fulfill the kinks and desires of long distance clients. Over the past few weeks, I’ve been transitioning from in person sessions to exclusively online sessions with clients before completely closing out my services as a Dominatrix for hire.
I may not be sexually intimate with my clients, but there are aspects within my current role that hold exchanges of sexual energy and involves levels of vulnerability and psychological intimacy that I want to devote solely to Kai.
I never imagined myself in a situation where I would willingly give up the career I’ve built around my passion for control and domination, but it was the easiest decision I’ve ever had to make. The sweet boy was so fucking worth it. Especially when I could look into those pretty green eyes of Kai’s and know that he was as much mine and mine alone as I was his. Wholly, completely, and exclusively. I don’t want to give the sweet boy any reason to doubt that I’m in this with him.
I have made a lot of money in the few years I’ve been doing this. Having a strong enough head on my shoulders to invest half of my income, my wealth grows even when I’m sitting on my ass.
But I won’t be without anything to occupy my time during this transition (aside from the time I will devote to becoming impossibly more familiar with every inch of Kai’s body). Word on the street is our boy Logan was up to no good and the state seized a majority of his assets – including Guilty Pleasures, the toy shop I met a flustered Kai for the second time. His (inevitable) loss was my gain. I planned on buying that shit out from under him and completely transforming the space. I had been taking business classes the past few years online for shits and giggles, but the act out of curiosity will soon pay off.
I couldn’t help the smile that came to my face at the thought of owning a little boutique where I could personally curate the inventory of sex toys and BDSM paraphernalia, where I could style mannequins however I wanted. Corsets, bull whips, handcuffs, and lingerie of all colors and sizes were floating through my head. I could hold kink classes for newcomers to the kink world, or I sexual healing sessions in the lounge. So much space was just sitting there that Logan never used because he was a fucking idiot who lacked competence and creative vision.
Before leaving clients, however, I had to provide them with closure. Some of them I have seen for years, some I have formed unique friendships and connections with that deserve more than just my disappearance from the game entirely. I gave most of them final in person sessions before exchanging goodbyes. Some took it better than others, but that’s to be expected. I assured them that we could stay in contact if they needed guidance in any way or for future events or networking opportunities.
I had notified all of my regulars, but I couldn’t get a hold of Katherine. Because I’m an organized motherfucker who’s dedicated to their job, I have a filing cabinet of past and present clients as well as their likes, desires, needs, and any other details I find important. I pull out Katherine’s file to check for her contact information, when I notice something that completely slipped my mind.
It’s a manilla folder that she had given to me at the end of one of my sessions after she asked me to sit in on her class. I peeked into it out of curiosity, forgetting the contents. I pulled out a few sheets of paper, and the contents seems to be the syllabus for her class: Attitudes and Ideologies about Sexual Identities.
I smile at the memory of meeting Kai for the first time, his shy nature, his little stutter, his red cheeks. I’m about to put the folder away when something else catches my eye. It’s a handwritten letter she wrote to accompany the detailed syllabus on the contents, resources, and materials for the class. Something about the cardstock paper looked familiar, but I couldn’t for the life of me place it.
I return the folder to her file, then pull out the contract to see if maybe there’s another way to contact her. It would be wrong of me to drop her out of nowhere, no matter the irritation that’s rising at the thought of being sent on a wild goose chase for her flaky ass. I check and I don’t see any contact information beside a listed address. It’s not that unusual for me to omit contact information, since I typically don’t have a reason to be in contact with my clients outside of our sessions, and those can be scheduled online.
Ain’t no way I’m showing up at her house, she can come find me when she needs me.
It was only after I walked out of my office to refill my mug of tea that I notice the letter sitting on my coffee table and stop dead in my tracks.
I imediately shove myself against the wall and slide over a painting on my wall covering a safe. I quickly punch in the code, pull out my Glock, noiselessly sliding in the magazine and switching off the safety before thrusting it before me.
I know for a damn fact that little letter was not sitting there several hours ago when I walked into my office. Kai should be in class and Darius is at his day job.
After doing a quick sweep of my entire suite and confirming that whoever managed to break into my condo without tripping any of my alarms was no longer here, I flick the safety back on and return to the coffee table.
I don’t waste any time wondering or asking questions before I’m tearing the envelope open and dumping it’s contents out onto the table.
What I see makes my heart drop to my feet and every drop of blood to drain from my face.
Inside envelope is a picture and a letter.
The picture of my sweet Kai laying on some surface with his hands crudely duct-taped behind him. He’s wearing the black sweats and navy blue sweater I dressed him in this morning, and he appears unconscious.
The letter says only four words followed by what looks like a hastily scrawled smiley face.
Come find me, Mommy 🙂
The pretty script blurs as tears of pure fury cloud my sight, my eyes narrowing and my hands trembling as I clench them into tight fists.
My sight is on tunnel vision, and all I can think about is my poor Kai, how scared he must be.
This is all my fucking fault.
I grab my gun and cock it, moving back to the safe to grab several more magazines.
I will burn everything in my path until I find him. And if there is even a scratch on his skin or a hair out of place, I will hurt everyone involved.
Time to pay Darius a little visit.
***
It took a few hours to find Darius’s residence. It took far less time to break in.
I’m not here for any covert operation or sneaking around shit. I want the alarm to go off. I want his ass hightailing it home to investigate.
I smash the but of my gun into the glass on his back window, and immediately I hear the slight clicking sound of a silent alarm activating. If I was actually an intruder, I might not have noticed that almost imperceptible detail. But I have a military background and I know Darius does too, even though he now works in security.
My hood is already pulled over my head so he can’t identify me on the camera’s I know are installed in his house. As I walk through, I notice a few pictures of a smiling girl with red hair and two missing front teeth.
I never knew he had a daughter.
I never asked and he never offered. Our interactions were, for the most part, kept professional. I knew nothing of his personal life and he knew nothing of mine. I walk into the living room and set my clock for 18 minutes. Every minute wasted is precious, but judging by the distance from his office to his residence, it will be a minute before he gets home. I decide to take a seat and click on the TV so the noise drowns out the screaming in my head, my knee shaking and my fingernails itching to dig into my skin until I bleed.
Anything to pay some kind of amends for my wrongdoings that led me to this moment, this moment where my light has been taken from me and I’m terrified he will be snuffed out before I can get him back.
When he walks into his front door, I am waiting for him on his couch, reclined and slicing an apple with a 5 inch paring knife.
I realize I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen his face without his gimp mask on – it has likely been years. Under different circumstances I might call him a handsome man.
But I’m here for one thing and one thing alone; the safety of Kai and my sanity depend on it.
His safety, on the other hand, depends on the answers he gives me.
I watch as he gulps when his eyes land on mine, the mountain of a man suddenly looking like a naughty retriever.
I don’t make a move, my eyes narrowing as I lift the paring knife to my lips and bite off the freshly cut apple slice.
“I…I was hoping it wasn’t you.” His deep voice is suddenly grating my ears and I hate him for speaking, even though that’s exactly what I wanted him to do.
I raise an eyebrow. “Oh, so you were expecting me?”
He closes the door behind him and leans against the wood. He nods once.
I stand and with a quick flick of my wrist, the paring knife flies from my hand, slicing through the air to cut straight into his shoulder. I watch as he winces and grabs at his upper arm, just beneath where the black handle of the paring knife sticks out.
“Fucking hell Mis–”
“Don’t fucking call me that. You have lost that right.” I walk up to where he’s bracing himself against his front door and pull out a utility knife from the strap on my thigh, pressing the sharp blade against his throat.
“You set up every security measure in my home Darius. The first lady couldn’t get in there without alerting one of us.” And if he was expecting me, he at least knows something.
I watch as a bead of sweat slides down his neck. He’s calm, his breathing is steady because he’s a soldier. But I can tell from the tick under his eye and the slight flutter of the pulse on his neck that he’s scared.
“Where the fuck is Kai?” I ask, making sure to sharply annunciate every syllable so it really sinks in that he is not safe with me right now.
“I-I don’t know!” He chokes out against the blade pressing into his neck.
I laugh bitterly before I take the hand that isn’t holding the knife to his throat to push hard against the handle of the knife sticking out of his shoulder. He winces as the 3 inch blade pushes deeper.
“Then what the fuck do you know? How did that letter get into my fucking house?” I make a small nick against his throat and watch a small bead of blood slip from the incision.
He closes his eyes like he’s holding something back and in that moment I almost wish my knife to slip and cut his throat for having the audacity to waste precious time.
“S-she asked me to turn off the alarms. I…She’s my daughter and I just want her to be happy.”
My brows furrow at his scattered words and mismatched phrases.
“What the fuck are you talking about? Who’s your daughter?”
“Beth. I was a terrible father and that’s how she ended up in that place with you…I’m just trying to make up for it.” His words tumble out one after the other so quickly that they trip over each other and he struggles to get them out properly.
Beth?
My eyes widen. “W-what?” Now I’m the one tripping on my words. Is he talking about Beth from the summer camp for troubled youth? The summer camp that is the hellscape where all my nightmares take place? What the fuck does she have to do with this?
“Beth. She was never the same after staying at that sick psych ward.” He spits out the words like they taste foul on his tongue.
Quickly growing frustrated at his disconnected words, I pull the glock from where it was strapped on my right thigh and press it to his forehead, clicking off the safety.
“I’m going to need you to start making some fucking sense.”
He sighs, as if the literal gun to his temple is a stray hair rather than a deadly weapon. “After you left that Summer Camp, she just kept getting worse. I tried to help but I didn’t know how to be a father to her back then. She tried to end her life and they sent her to some psychiatric institution. Instead of helping her, it made her obsessed with…well, you.”
My eyes narrow in confusion. So a girl I trauma bonded with for a few months in the shit hole reform camp got obsessed with me and kidnapped my Kai ten years later? That doesn’t make any sense.
“Wait…What’s your daughter’s full name?”
His response makes my blood run cold.
“Elizabeth Katherine Carter.”
A little look into Val’s dark side 😏 What do you think is gonna happen next 🤔?
How have y’all been? Are you excited to learn more about Val 👀? Ask me anything and I shall answer 🤗
Question: If I made an IG just for my readers would y’all follow? It would be like my finsta but y’all follow and i’ll post outrageous shit and myself 😅
See you soon 😉