Masters & Lovers Box Set Three

I’m crossing the floor of the lobby, thinking about the ongoing groundworks of D-site and trying to decide whether to tackle the east or the west side first. I’m not truly paying attention to my surroundings.

“Morning, Kirstie.”

“Good morning Mr Alexanders.”

*Jab elevator panel*

Lay land drains first to the east side?

Enable access via the west?

Or wait for the circular route to connect from the bridge?

Where’s that damn lift?

…

…

Reverse mental gears….

Kirstie…

Too much make-up…

Swollen eyes…

Trying not to be too obvious about it, I turn to take a better look at her. Even from the rear…

… slumping in her seat…

Not like her…

The elevator bings, but I ignore it, strolling back to the desk.

“Kirstie, is everything alright?”

“I'm fine, Mr Alexanders. Thank you for asking.”

She's painted on her business face, but as she speaks, she doesn’t look at me, keeping her eyes turned down. One thing I like about Kirstie is that she looks you in the eye…

Usually…

I take her chin in thumb and forefinger. “I expect you to look at me when I speak, Ms Jamieson...” But I cut myself short. Under the makeup she's caked on, her eyes are puffy.

“I’m sorry, sir. I’m fine.”

“No, you're not. You look terrible. Is it something I can help with?”

“No sir, it's... personal…”

I wait, giving her a silence to fill.

A flush rises up her neck, vanishing under the makeup line before it hits her face. “My sister, Erin is falling out with Ben....”

Not Ben again….

He really doesn't have the hang of people…

Why would that upset Kirstie so much?

“... so I have her crying on my shoulder and Ryan...” She stalls.

“Yes? Ryan…?”

Staring down at her desktop, “Nothing.”

wait a little longer,

business if she doesn’t want

home? I'll find a

sir. I'd rather be

“As you wish.”

*****

have Kirstie on from downstairs. She's asking if you could spare her a few

Aaahhh…

wants to. Can you make coffee for

James.” Francis fixes a gimlet eye

decide if I’m the cause of Kirstie’s

*****

is a timid tap at my door. I left it standing open, but she

“Come in, Kirstie.”

down. “Thank you for making the time to see

we’re friends. And I have the feeling this is a ‘James’

hanging, she nods, winding

What now?

good at this sort of

don’t you sit down. Start at the beginning, whatever it is.” I gesture to the chair opposite mine over my

Nope…

Wrong…

instead waving her across to the low seating by the coffee table, overlooking

a handkerchief. I sit opposite her, pour the coffee, try to make myself busy while she gets

Should I call Charlotte?

but Kirstie starts

Dom, Charlotte's Dom and... and there’s Michael of course. You always seem so happy together. And, well, you've been

As she knows…

eyes slant up to

How we met…

threesome at

you know the rules. How

“Get it?”

really understand the Dom/sub

to see where

Ryan…

up again. I try a gentle prompt.

He... He thinks he's completely in charge and that

to do anything you are unwilling to; that you haven't agreed to. That's not the rules of the game. If something upsets you, or if you find it distasteful… you’re the sub. You

and you know that, but Ryan... Could you

to interfere in the relationship between a

nods.

you tell me what he is requiring that

squirming. “It's...” But her words dry

Crucified with embarrassment.

Kirstie?

tears running furrows through

Ah, fuck….

Weeping women…

Francis?

No…

and I met,

says, “He gets off on having

right for him. He can be as

I mean really in public. Parking lots, elevators. Places

you too far, you simply

up and her eyes red-rimmed,

Shit…

a safe word that can't be used

together for a while. Was there ever a time, maybe in your early days when…?” Her hand rises to her mouth as though cutting her own question short. “Sorry,” she mumbles. “I