Here was the opening she’d waited for. “Layla, can I ask you something?”
“Yes, I have time to do your make-up before we go.” She pointed to the toilet seat. “Sit.”
Ainsley closed her eyes when Layla hovered over her with brushes, powders and eyeliner. “Thanks, but that wasn’t the question I meant. I want to know about your relationship with Murphy. He seems awfully controlling.”
“That’s the definition of a dominant.”
She struggled to find the wording that wouldn’t piss off her friend but would also give her the information she’d always been too shy to ask about. “He doesn’t like, hurt you or anything if he doesn’t get his way, does he?”
“Are you asking if he beats me if I’ve done something to piss him off?”
“Yes.”
Layla swept a long, wet line of make-up across Ainsley’s eyelids near her lash line. “Don’t open your eyes for a minute.”
“Okay.”
“Murphy has never raised his hand to me in anger. It would destroy him to hurt me. But you have to understand that his use of whips, floggers and other instruments are part of our life. I ask him to restrain me and leave welts and marks on my skin.”
“Why?”
“The pain takes me to a place where I can truly let go of the control I’ve tried to maintain in all areas of my life since I was a little girl.”
Could a little pain really do that? Make Ainsley forget everything? Allow her to exist solely in the moment? Not worry about anything except when the next smack or lash would land? Why did that appeal to her so much? And why was she so embarrassed to admit that to anyone? She’d even led Layla to believe she wanted to explore her dominant tendencies, when submission interested her far more.
Isn’t the whole point of this to learn who you really are? If you’re capable of letting go? How can you be honest with anyone else when you’re still lying to yourself?
“I’ve had some bad things in my past,” Layla said softly.
“Oh, Layla. I didn’t know. I’m sorry.”
“No one knew because I excelled at keeping stuff hidden. But it was crippling me. I didn’t talk about it at all. My way to deal with it was with physical punishment. Making myself hurt as bad on the outside as I did on the inside. That’s how I ended up hanging out at hardcore bondage clubs and letting any man or woman use me as their whipping post. But I’d reached the point where I didn’t feel pain. One night I hooked up with a Dom who started to beat me severely and I didn’t do anything to stop him. But Murphy stepped in. He became my savior in so many ways.
“After he cleaned me up, he took me to his place. This big bear of a man was a total stranger to me and I felt safer with him than I’d felt with anyone. I slept for twenty-four hours straight. When I woke up, he wouldn’t allow me to put up my usual defenses. He talked to me. He made me talk to him.” Soft bristles swept over Ainsley’s cheekbone. “There was something about his voice that encouraged me, soothed me, made me want to please him, made me trust him. Anyway, I told him things I’d never shared with anybody. Things even I’d forgotten. And after I went through a whole box of tissues after sobbing for hours, and my throat was raw from talking for hours, he scooped me into his arms and just held me. For hours.”
Ainsley withheld her questions, hard as that was.
“Murphy had been a Dom for a decade at that point. He’d never considered taking on a sub fulltime until he met me. His brother Rafe is a counselor. After my meltdown I spent time talking to Rafe alone, and with Murphy. While all this soul searching stuff was going on, I fell in love with Murphy.” She sniffled. “Totally, completely in love with the gentle giant who had such a code of honor that he didn’t touch me at all.”
“How long did that last?”
“Six months. Murphy took me to clubs where I could see other kinds of play. Play where a Dom administering pain was a preface for sexual pleasure for the sub. Without getting into too many details, it made me hot. And wet. Two things I’d never felt when the whip scored my skin. When he saw my reaction, he knew I was ready to experience the difference with him. It changed my life. So, the long answer to your question is no, Murphy would never abuse me. He gets me. He loves me. We give each other exactly what the other needs.” She sniffled again. “You can open your eyes now.”
Ainsley looked at Layla.
“Be honest with me. Why are you interested in experiencing any of this? I see a look of revulsion in your eyes, Ainsley.”