Today I find myself able to move a bit more. My feet still throb badly with any pressure but the pain of my rear is down quite a bit. Well, it only hurts a lot to try to sit rather than being unbearable. Today Sammy and Gordon show up with a wheel chair with several cushions stacked up on the seat. I sit gingerly but this should give my feet more time to heal without making things worse. Based upon its markings I believe this is the same wheel chair I used after my first visit with Dominique.
I eat breakfast with the crew. I find it easier to speak casually. Things feel different with friends. It feels different to feel like I have friends. I don’t know exactly what I feel… I just know it isn’t bad.
After breakfast we check out the music room. As the lights go on my jaw drops. It feels almost like a small club venue… and recording studio… and collection room. There are full amp setups, a drum set, a PA, and hundreds of guitars hanging on the wall and littered around the room.
Dominique places her hand on my chin and closes my mouth for me.
“One day I decided I wanted to learn how to play so I went and bought a guitar and started on lessons. After a while someone mentioned that collecting rare guitars would be a good investment.”
She starts pointing out some instruments mounted in glass cases on the wall.
“That Telecaster over there I paid $5,200 for. Now it’s worth about $35,000. That Les Paul ran me $12,500. Now it’s going for… Sammy, what’s that one going for now?”
“Ah. I make a point to buy up the standard fare each year as well as a few custom shop models. You never know what is going to get hot, although I don’t really intend to sell any unless I have to. Do you see anything you’d like to try?”
I look up at her with surprise.
“Umm… probably about half the room. Is that a ‘61 Reissue SG?”
“Yes. I believe it’s a ‘98 or so. Would you like to play it?”
“I used to have an SG Special. It played okay but I had to…”
“Replace the bridge pickup?” She laughs a little.
Sammy fetches the guitar and brings it to me. It’s in pristine condition, the wood grains beautifully show through the cherry finish. Gordon starts pushing my wheelchair.
“Which amp, man?”
“The Marshall if that’s okay.”
He powers up the amp and hands me a cable and a pick. Dominique heads over to the drum kit. Sammy picks up a bass. Gordon grabs a Les Paul and plugs in to another amp across the room. He lets an E ring out while the rest of us tune to match him. I hear Dominique’s coming through the PA.
“What do you want to play, little one?”
“Do you know any Goddess’ Nectar?”
“I’m familiar with the first album.”
I hear her speak faintly into her phone. The blip of the bluetooth pairing comes through the speakers. Within moments the album’s first track plays over the speakers and we jam along. I’m rusty and it shows. I don’t care though, this is fun. We badly play through the first half of the album or so before stopping. Gordon walks over and helps put away the guitar.
“Dude, fs, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you smile like that. Usually you look like someone just kicked you in the gut.”
I can’t help but smile.
Next up is some Zbox. I don’t partake again today. I’m content simply to watch. I lose myself in my thoughts, trying to figure out the great difference between now and last week. While I’m still sore and feeling a little helpless, there’s no D/s to speak of. I don’t know these people all that well but I feel a connection right now that goes beyond that of just casual acquaintances. It makes me wonder.
Dominique has Chinese food delivered for dinner. She orders way too much food but all of it tastes so good. We chat around the dinner table. I’m feeling more comfortable hopping into the conversations now. Time really flies.
Tonight I’m given an actual room to sleep in. It’s large, but then again, all of the rooms in her house are large. The bed feels nice as I sprawl in any direction I please. It’s surprising how tired your back gets being trapped in a chair all day.
I type an email to Mistress before I sleep.
I had fun today. I hope you are having fun, too.
I wake up in the large bed and stretch. The bruising has faded quite a bit but it can still hurt if it receives pressure in just the right way. The last few days were a blur. Once I was okay to walk Sammy showed up with a pair of super spongy soled running shoes in my size. Apparently Dominique sent him to get them. Each day it has been something new. One day we went to the zoo because she wanted to see monkeys. Another day to the movie theater to watch a movie that Sammy had been looking forward to. It was some action schlock but I didn’t complain. It was fun to make fun of it with the others after it was over.
The next day was an all you can eat buffet. It was amusing watching the three of them try to outdo one another only to feel ill in the end. I’m honestly surprised at Dominique’s poor eating habits. She must be blessed with good genes to pack it in like that and stay thin. Nothing is ever planned… it’s all just an impulse. “Hey, let’s do _____.” It is hectic but I can’t say it isn’t fun.
Yesterday the UPS man arrived with a delivery. Gordon ordered the new Final Fantasy game for Zbox and tried to convince me to play. I was content to watch, smiling while they shouted at the characters.
Today at breakfast Sammy is hobbling a bit and sinks slowly into his chair.
“Are you okay?” Gordon answers.
“He’ll be fine, it was his turn.”
Dominique blows a kiss at Sammy. He shakes his head and looks at his food. I feel like I’m starting to understand the dynamic around here a little bit better. I also understand the source of proficiency for Sammy and Gordon when it comes to nursing wounds and patching things back together. A grin forms across my face.
“Jealous, little one? I could have always taken a second go at you if you would have preferred. We can do it later if you wish.”
I choke on my food for a second.
“No thank you, Mistress.”
I have to wonder what is in store for today.
We spend the day shopping. A dozen stops or so. A book for Gordon. Headphones for Sammy. A handful of specialty shops where Dominique buys God knows what. The last stop is at World of Guitars. Sammy and Gordon immediately flock their way in and find instruments and start jamming. I actually look around the store today. Last time I was there on a specific hunt. Here I just take in the views and the sounds.
My eyes make their way upwards and I twist my neck. This strangely angled overhang makes viewing the instruments hanging a bit awkward and it gets worse the farther up you go. Up in the corner I spot a vision of my past. My dream guitar. The one I drooled over in my youth but could never afford. Its flamed top and dark blue burst finish mesmerizes me. Dominique’s voice startles me.
“Good eye, little one. I don’t think that finish has been available in at least ten years. I had the Lava Burst version but traded it in. SG’s just don’t value up in the same way that Les Pauls do.”
She quickly flags down a salesman. It’s the same man that sold me my starter pack a couple of weeks ago.
“Is that one new old stock?”
“Yeah. Apparently it got stashed in its case in our storage and we dug it up a couple of months ago. It’s probably around an‘04 or so.”
“$3250 is a little bit steep on that, don’t you think? I’ll give you $2600 for it. That’s $100 more than when they were new.”
“Let me ask my manager.”
He disappears into the back.
“I thought you said they don’t value up?”
“They don’t. This one is meant to be played.”
He returns a moment later.
“He said we could do $2750 and will throw in a setup with that.”
“Done. What gauge strings do you use, little one?”
“Umm, 10’s, Miss Dominique.”
“Set it up with 10’s. I’ll take a set of strap locks with it as well. Can you toss them on during the setup?”
“Save the original buttons as well.”
The salesman’s eyes light up. He must work on commission. He tells us it will be about a half an hour before it’s ready. We head to the colonel for lunch as it’s just a short drive down the road. I specifically avoid looking over at the bookstore but part of my heart twitches as we arrive and when we leave. On the drive back to the store I fidget a bit as I ask her a question.
“Miss Dominique, why did you buy that guitar?”
“Don’t be dense, little one. I bought it for you.”
My surprise is immediately countered by a sick feeling in my gut.
“I don’t want to sound ungrateful but why did you buy it for me?”
“White guilt.” She laughs loudly.
“You’ll understand when your Mistress returns.”
I merely nod. Conflicting emotions swell over me.
“Yes, little one?”
“I don’t think I’m allowed to have things of my own.”
“Well then we’ll keep it at my place. You can play it whenever you come over on one condition.”
“Call me Mistress when Cassandra isn’t around. I know that I released you, but I liked hearing you say it.”
“Yes, Mistress. Thank you.”
Back at Dominique’s home we play more music and I get to jam on the new guitar. I love it but her words haunt me.
That night I email Mistress before bed.
I can’t wait to see you soon. I love you.
I wake up this morning feeling a little bit out of sorts. After breakfast I will be returning home. Mistress returns tomorrow and I suppose this is meant to make sure that the house is in order. I cleaned thoroughly before calling Dominique so it should be a relaxing day.
Breakfast is lively as usual. I feel a bit sad that I will be leaving this behind. After breakfast I take a shower, tidy up the room, and get ready to leave. My brain swirls around in a confusing way. The events of the past three weeks have taken me up and down in ways I couldn’t have imagined.
Before we leave the front door I bow my head and thank everyone for taking care of me. Sammy gives me a handshake and a bro hug. Gordon uses a fist bump. Dominique stands with her arms crossed and a smile on her face. I kneel and kiss her boots. First the right foot then the left. As I look up she puts her gloved hand on my cheek and starts with a caress before digging in the talon she wears on her finger and cackling.
They drop me off near the front door and with a wave, they are gone. I unlock the front door and walk in. Immediately a tear forms in my eye. I’m not sure why, I’m sure it won’t be the last time I see them. I put away my clothes and get to work dusting, vacuuming, and hunting for any other spots that might be deemed as untidy. I clean out the fridge a bit. I had forgotten how many perishable items Mistress had left for me. Many of them have gone bad. I feel guilty for letting this happen. I ate out too much.
When everything is satisfactory I look at the clock. It’s early afternoon. I take a seat on the sofa when the real guilt hits me. I burst into tears and cry until I can’t.
I stand up in a daze, not truly feeling alive anymore. I strip naked and pack up all of my man clothes into the box that Mistress presented them to me in. I find my uniform, holding it in my hands in front of me I scan it over. This is the real me. I carefully dress myself from head to toe, adjusting and locking things in place as I go. I don’t know where the keys are and I don’t care.
I curl up on the rug on the floor and hug Mistress’s robe tight, inhaling the scent of her perfume I feel everything else fade away and I return to myself. I let out a small sigh and a sniffle follows. I have betrayed Mistress. I doze off.