Misery · Part 2

Misery · Part 2 (2/3)
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He barked a laugh. "You've weaseled a ride, a shopping expedition, and half of my history out of me, and now you're worried about getting too personal? You've got a lot of nerve and a juicy fucking sense of humor!"

He lapsed into silence again, brow furrowed and eyes narrow. Another few minutes passed, and he spoke again.

"I'm with a woman, a dominant woman. She's absolutely full of herself. Aware of how beautiful she is. Aware of her effect on men. Arrogant and used to getting her way. Possibly a little bored with it all.

"We're in some public setting, like a restaurant or a park, so no shenanigans, and she's asking me tons of questions. She's basically learning my limits and negotiating a scene with me without explicitly saying it. She just assumes that when she has it all constructed in her head, I'll just fall into her scheme like some lamb going to the slaughter.

"But still, she has to ask, you know? I have to say yes to her plan and concede victory to her desire. You know how those dommie types are. So she gets to that defining moment. She says something like 'Joe, won't you come and do blah blah blah for me? You will love it, I just know.'

"And I am pulled toward her, as if she has gravity or something. My eyes are soft and wet with submission. My lips are parted. My face draws near to hers and I scream NO FUCKING WAY!”

The sound filled the closed space of the cab, dying away slowly. Joe continued talking as though he hadn't just tried to blow out the windows with his voice.

“Straight into her face so loud that her hair blows back and she bleeds from her eyes and ears. I just don't really think I can scream loud enough to actually do that. So, it remains just a silly little fantasy," Joe said. He didn't turn to look at Amanda, who sat perfectly still, facing him across the space between their seats. They sat like that for minutes as the miles rolled on beneath the truck's humming tires.

"What was her name? The woman who hurt you so badly?" Amanda finally asked. Her voice was gentle, and genuine.

Joe turned slightly, keeping his eyes partially on the quiet stretch of interstate.

"Shouldn't you be asking me to drop you off at the next exit?" he asked.

"Who was she, Joe?"

"You really, really, don't want to go there," he said.

Amanda heard no threat, felt no danger, but something in Joe's voice and demeanor told her the subject was truly, permanently, closed.

"I'm getting hungry and I have to pee," she said. "Is there anyplace nearby where we can get a bite to eat?"

"What about that Waffle House?" Joe said, pointing to a sign as he swung the truck into the exit lane.

"Waffle House?"

"It's not a Parisian cafe, but the food is decent. There's also a Subway, a Jack's, and the usual burger places. Or, I can get back on the interstate and you can find a place to your liking," Joe said.

"Waffles it is, I guess," Amanda said.

Dinner went quickly and quietly, and after another round of bathroom visits, they were back on the road. Amanda felt some of the tension drain away from the space between them.

The rest of the trip passed in near silence. Amanda didn't speak again until Joe pulled the truck into the half circle drive in front of the Plaza's lobby.

"Thank you, Joe. I wish there was a way I could return the favor. I make a good friend. It's too late to drive back tonight. Let me get you a room at least?" Amanda said.

Joe laughed. "They'd shit bricks if they thought I'd be staying here tonight. I'll be fine. Go check in and see if there's someone who can get your stuff. I'll wait."

Amanda nodded and left. Despite the hour, after midnight local time, the lobby was busy with guests checking in or asking questions. Amanda felt out of place in jeans and sneakers. The clerks behind the counter all wore leather halter tops. While she waited, she saw one slip out from behind the counter on an errand. She wore a matching leather mini-skirt, black nylons, and heels. Amanda also noticed the white and orange lanyard holding a white and orange bordered ID proclaiming the wearer as Hotel Staff.

Clearly, the hotel had been bought completely out for the Fetteration convention, and provisions must have been made to bring in kink friendly employees or temps. Multiple, prominent, signs enumerated the rules, the top one being only registered con guests allowed on the premises.

A group of dominants stood near a posted schedule of events. Their stances and attitudes proclaimed their orientation as much as their leather and boots and accessories. Amanda could see they were deep in discussion. The group was mixed, men and women, but no subs. She briefly wondered what cruel test the subs might be undergoing, or maybe the doms had come here to find subs, she wondered.

As she checked in, Amanda had one question. “I don't see any porters, and all the luggage carts are gone. A friend drove me here. Can he help me get my stuff up to my room?”

“Sure, as long as he's not staying,” the clerk said, handing Amanda a white bordered visitor's pass on a white lanyard. “Put yours on now, and have your friend give that back to me on his way out. Print the name in the visitor's log.”

Amanda wondered at all the color coding as she slipped the red lanyard over her head, settling the red bordered badge around her neck. The woman handed Amanda another envelope and a bag of assorted small gifts for being a charter member of Fetteration.

“Your visitor is technically a temporary registered guest of the con. All the rules apply to him. The white badge and lanyard mean 'hands off' but he is also not allowed to play or be an ass or…” She fell silent.

“Joe Axel?” she said. “That name rings a bell.” She scanned another list on a clipboard. “But he's not on the blacklist, so carry on. Next guest please!”

Returning to the idling truck, Amanda walked around to the driver's side window and climbed up on the step.

"You need help with your stuff because all the bellhops, porters, drug mules, and slaves are otherwise occupied," Joe said before she could ask.

"Could you at least help me get them down from Val's bed? After that I will stand on the curb and wave farewell with a dainty handkerchief as you drive off west to the new world," Amanda said.

Joe stared at her with an expression so flat, she thought he was actually angry.

"That was good. There's hope for you yet," he said. Joe exited the truck and easily unloaded Amanda's assorted luggage to the curb. "Wait here."

Joe parked the truck in a nearby check in only spot and returned, grabbing one handle on a rolling case and a shoulder bag. He let Amanda loop the white lanyard over his head.

"If you think I'm dragging all this shit in for you, prepare for disappointment," Joe said.

"No. Of course not," Amanda said, picking up her other bags and taking the other Quartermaster case's handle. They walked through the lobby toward a bank of elevators. The lobby was even more crowded than before. Near the doors, a trio of dommes sat in a conversational grouping, feet propped up on nearly naked submissives doing their best imitation of foot stools.

Almost as one, the line of guests waiting to speak to a harried clerk turned to look at Amanda and Joe as they walked in side by side. Amanda looked at Joe and saw his jaws clenched and face set like stone. His eyes were locked onto the one other normal looking person in the room, a blonde in a red dress, white nylons, and ballet flats. Her hair tumbled down her back in a mass of curls. She clutched a black briefcase in her left hand.

As they approached the elevators, the blonde woman turned to look at them.

"Oh, shit," Joe said.

"Joe Axel," the woman said, beaming. "I thought I'd see the pope here before I saw you again!"

"He just pulled in, Melody. Why don't you go to confession?"

"I want my gear back, Joe. I was quite fond of those cuffs."

"You'll need a submarine you two faced cum breathed piece of shit. They're at the bottom of Lake Superior."

"You repartee has improved since our last encounter, Joe."

"Fuck you, Mel."

"There's the Joe I know and love," Melody said as the elevator doors slid open. "You two go on. I can see you have your hands full," Melody said, stepping aside to let the two pass.

Joe and Amanda entered the car. As the doors closed, Melody blocked them with her arms.

"I'd keep him on a real short leash,” Melody paused to look at Amanda's badge, “Mistress Amanda. He bites," Melody snapped her teeth shut for emphasis. She let the doors close before Amanda could reply.

"So that's her," Amanda said to Joe. His face had gone white and the handle of the case he held creaked ominously from the force of his grip.

"That cocksucker Wilson must have been on the phone the second we left Huntsville," Joe said. "That greasy douche weasel. No wonder he preferred to stay anonymous."

"Joe," Amanda said.

"What!?!" His screamed reply rang her ears. For the first time since meeting him, Amanda was genuinely afraid.

Joe leaned against the elevator car wall as the floor numbers chimed by. "I'm sorry. You didn't deserve that."

"Thank you, Joe," Amanda said, raising her hand to touch Joe's shoulder.

Joe looked at her hand as though a particularly disgusting smell emanated from it. "But don't expect me to hug you or anything," he said as the doors opened onto her floor.

Once in her suite, she collapsed onto the small sofa in the sitting area. "What a weird, wonderful, freakish, amazing day," Amanda said.

"Speak for yourself. I've got another six hours to go," Joe said.

"This is a two bedroom suite. You can stay here tonight and light out for the hills at dawn," Amanda said.

"You're serious," Joe said. "Have you been paying attention? I am not welcome here. A feeling which is entirely mutual. If my darling sister had asked me to take the day off of work, pick up some fetish gear at the fucking Quartermaster's, and carry a dominatrix to a kink festival, I'd have suggested she stick her head up her own ass. If I had known who you were when I met you at the garage, I'd have given you the keys to a car, filled the tank with gas, washed the windows, and put a cooler full of Moon Pies and RC Colas in the front seat just to get you out the door."

"That's not fair, Joe!"

"The fair is where young kids in love go to blow their money on cotton candy and rickety rides," Joe said.

"I'm not talking about life. I'm talking about you, Joe. Do you really think I'm some kind of monster? You spent a whole day with me, and I spent a whole day with you not knowing your history. It wasn't like I stayed in the closet out of fear of you. I am more than all this, dammit." Amanda waved her hands at the room as she spoke.

Joe looked at the floor for a few seconds before looking up. "Yeah. It was a good day, mostly, but now it's time to go back to reality. I can't get past this," he said, rapping his knuckles on the Quartermaster packing case. "You may be fun loving, waffle eating Amanda, or concerned and compassionate Miss Haile, but somewhere in there is dommie Amanda, and she and me aren't going to get along."

"What happened, Joe?"

"Bad shit. You'll have to hear it from someone else. Now, I'm out…"

The TV flickered to life, loudly playing a Fetteration safety notice: "Fetteration guests, an unregistered person has been reported on the premises in violation of Fetteration guest policies. For your safety, please remain in your room, outside the hotel, or in one of the common areas. Please do not leave these designated areas until the all clear is given."

The announcement repeated in several languages. Amanda's phone chimed, alerting her to a text containing the same alert.

"No! I got you a visitor's pass!" Amanda said, searching through her Fetteration info pack. She blanched as she read.

"They're going to kick us out," she said. "How could I be so damn stupid?"

"I'll leave now and you can tell them I got pissed and took off half an hour ago," Joe said.

Amanda shook her head. "I'm responsible for you. If you left, I would have called the desk immediately."

She looked at him, crestfallen but suddenly determined. "Take off your clothes and sit in that chair," she said. Her voice had an air of command Joe had not heard during their day together.

"Do it, Joe. There's an exception for a sub visitor who decides to become a registered sub guest. I'll tie you to the chair long enough to pass inspection and then you can go."

"No. Not now. Not ever. Never again."

Amanda took a half step toward him, intending to grab his hand and plead her case. Joe took a half step backwards and reached into his pocket, retrieving a short metal bar. He flicked his wrist and the bar telescoped into a fighting baton.

"I have an alternate plan," Joe said. "It involves a trail of unconscious goons and a lot of broken bones. Go lock yourself in the other room and tell them I freaked out when you opened one of the Quartermaster cases. You couldn't reach the room phone because you were holding the door and you left your cell on the table."

"Joe. I trusted you. I still do. Trust me now."

Joe shook his head and moved toward the door. Amanda watched him move, coiled up energy and anticipation.

"You really want to fight," she said.

"Yeah. Go lock yourself in the bedroom," Joe said.

"No. Get in the chair right now, Mr. Axel," Amanda said sternly. "I've had a topsy turvy trip to get here, and I'm in no mood for more aggravation."

He grinned. "Your dommie mind tricks won't work on me, Amanda."

Amanda rolled her eyes. "Joe, please. They'll hurt you if they can and call the cops if they can't. Just do what I asked."

Joe stared at Amanda. "You really do care about them."

"I don't know them. I care about you," Amanda said.

Voices in the hallway told them their time was up.

"I have an idea." Joe collapsed the baton and returned it to his pocket. "When they get here, keep it simple. We were talking and I started freaking out. You were scared, but you thought you had it under control. You checked your watch but forgot Atlanta's an hour ahead of Houston."

Joe sat in the chair Amanda had indicated earlier, pulled his legs up and wrapped his arms around them. He started rocking gently back and forth, right before someone knocked on the door.

A short time later a pale Joe and a visibly shaken Amanda were in the lobby, face to face with the con admins who were in the process of revoking Amanda's pass. They were flanked by four men, all bigger than Joe, but nervous looking despite their advantage. A crowd of onlookers had also gathered.

"Excuse me, mister?” Joe said to the tall male admin in motorcycle leathers.

"Master Wolf."

Joe shook his head, flinging beads of sweat with the motion. "Mister Master Wolf? Don't take this out on Amanda. It was my fault."

"I'm not in the mood for your bullshit, Axel. You spoiled the con for Mistress Amanda, and I'm not letting you ruin it for the rest of our guests."

"She was trying to help me because I asked her to!" Joe said. "I asked her about doing a session."

The room turned still and silent.

"You what?" said the woman next to Wolf, who called herself Goddess Mojave.

"I spent a whole day with her, riding in my truck. And she seemed okay, you know. And I realized how much I've missed certain things in my old life." Joe fell silent.

"Go on," Goddess Mojave said.

"After we carried in her gear, and I had her alone again, I asked about a session. Something a newbie might do, nothing challenging. I assumed she knew… knew about… you know. She knows Kristal, so I thought…"

"You thought she knew the details of your peculiar history. I get it. You have a certain amount of notoriety in our community, but you aren't as famous as you might think," the woman said. "What happened next?"

"She started outlining some potential scenes, asked me some questions, started talking about limits," Joe said. "The longer she talked, the more I realized I had made a mistake. I can't do this."

"Did you threaten Mistress Amanda?" Master Wolf demanded.

"No! Never! But I got jittery and I think I was babbling. I think I scared Amanda…"

"Mistress Amanda," Master Wolf said.

"Yeah. Her."

"You can't even say it, can you?" Goddess Mojave said gently. She took a step toward Joe, and he twitched, feet moving into a fighting stance. Two of the security detail stepped toward him.

"Stop," Goddess Mojave said. "If he was going to hurt someone, I think he would have shot you four when you entered Mistress Amanda's suite." She looked at Joe. “You are carrying, yes? One in the waistband and another on your ankle. Two knives, a can of pepper spray, a telescoping club, and,” she smiled, trying to put Joe at ease, “maybe some grenades?”

“I left the grenades at home,” Joe said.

The men stopped, but all four of them now had their hands inside their jackets.

"And your run in with Mistress Melody tonight?" she said, putting no small amount of disdain into Melody's name.

"Running into Mel didn't cross my mind until it actually happened," Joe said.

"And how do you feel about her?" Mojave asked.

"I hate her, and I wish I had killed her when I had the chance.”

"Fuck me," one of the guards said under his breath.

The man received glares from both doms. "Indeed," Mojave said. "And yet she walked away from tonight's encounter unscathed. How is that?"

"I don't understand," Joe said.

"You could have murdered Mistress Melody a dozen times over and gotten away in the confusion. Why didn't you do it?" Goddess Mojave said.

Joe's eyes widened. "That would be wrong," he said.

"Hmm. So what should we do with you now?"

"Throw me out and tell me you never want to see me again," Joe said without hesitation.

"That doesn't sound like much of a punishment," the woman said. "Please Mojave, don't throw me into the briar patch! Maybe you should watch while Master Wolf takes a strap to your Mistress Amanda's shapely ass. Unless you want to take her place?"

Amanda's eyes and mouth popped open. All four guards shifted, ready to react to whatever was about to happen. Joe's face reddened, looking hot enough to steam.

"She's not my mistress anything, and I don't like to see people get hurt, though I'm about to make an exception to that rule."

"That will do, you two. Does he pass the test, dear?" Wolf said.

"Yes. I believe he does. You may leave, Mr. Axel. Mistress Amanda may stay without restriction. I will leave the future to attend to itself. Perhaps we will see you again under less stressful circumstances. Do you have anything to add, Master Wolf?"

"Only this. I heard about the fight with your sister. Call Kristal and patch things up, Axel. Family is too important to leave hanging in the breeze."

Joe looked at the two admins. "Done." He stuck his hand out but looked surprised when Wolf shook it. Joe turned and walked out of the huddle and out the door.

"Thank you," Amanda said.

"You realize you dodged a major bullet tonight, right? And I'm not talking about getting kicked out of the con," Mojave said. "That boy could have twisted your head off, if you had really scared him."

"I saw no indication of that level of defensiveness all day," Amanda said.

"And did you really try to set up a scene with him?" Wolf asked.

"Yes," Amanda said, counting her request to bind him as setting up a scene, and glad she didn't have to lie.

"We should start a pool on how much time passes before he calls you," Wolf said.

"I'm in. Put me down for a million years," Amanda said.

"Very funny. You are free to go. Enjoy your time at Fetteration," Wolf said.

Chapter 3 – Melody's Story Instead of returning to her room for some much needed sleep, Amanda entered one of the Plaza's several bars and sat down, ordering a martini. She was almost done with her second drink when Melody sat down beside her.

"That was the most amazing performance I think I've ever seen. Which one of you thought that bullshit up? Masterful!"

"I don't know what you are talking about, Melody," Amanda said.

"Suit yourself, babe. I give props where I see talent."

"What do you want?" Amanda said.

"Are you ready to hear the story? The story of noble Joe Axel and the evil piece of shit Mistress Melody Parker."

"Sure," Amanda said. "Why not? Lay it on me."

"We met at college, of course. The first week of Joe's two semester adventure into higher education. I was a grad student. I know it's hard to tell, but I have a few years on Joe. Small world, but I had actually met his sister a few years before. We were in a study group together.”

“And that's it?” Amanda asked.

“Let me tell it. Joe was young and hot and passionate. A little starry eyed at the whole campus thing after growing up in Carthage. He was so tasty, and eager to please, and easy to snare. Almost too easy.

“But he has a capacity for absorbing punishment that I have never seen the equal of. And that made it fun for a while. Of course I didn't just play with him. We were in love. We screwed like bunnies. I lavished attention on him after every session, and all the days in between.

“If you ever do land him in the sack, I hope you like oral, because he will go down on you if you even look like you want it. I never asked, but I think he's one of those guys who thinks an orgasm fixes any problem a woman has.

“Anyway, after a year, it was getting old. He turned into a clingy, needy, doormat. I tried to break it off, but he kept worming and weaseling his way back into my life. So I arranged a session that would break pretty much every limit he had ever stated.”

“Oh shit,” Amanda blurted. “No wonder he hates us.”

“Sugar, he does not hate you. What he did tonight with those admins was out of love. If Wolf hadn't made it part of the deal to bury the hatchet with Kristal, she'd have never heard from Joe again. I know what Joe Axel looks like when he hates someone, trust me," Melody said.

“Why are you telling me this?” Amanda said.

“I have my reasons, which will become clear shortly. Do you want to hear the details or should I just skip the party?” Melody asked.

Amanda signaled for another drink and nodded. “Keep going.”

Misery · Part 2 (2/3)
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