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.”

a little longer, but

business if she doesn’t want

to go home? I'll find a stand-in

I'd rather be at

“As you wish.”

*****

hour later, Francis pops her head around my office door. “James, I have Kirstie on from

Aaahhh…

wants to. Can you make coffee

Francis fixes

decide if I’m the cause

*****

at my door. I left it standing

“Come in, Kirstie.”

“Thank you for making the time to see me,

the door behind her. “Kirstie, we’re friends. And I have the feeling this is a ‘James’

nods,

What now?

good at

the beginning, whatever it is.” I gesture to the chair opposite mine over

Nope…

Wrong…

the low seating by the coffee table,

sniffs and gulps, then hoots into a handkerchief. I sit opposite her, pour the coffee, try to

Should I call Charlotte?

but Kirstie

course. You always seem so happy together. And, well,

As she knows…

slant up to

How we met…

threesome at

know the rules. How it works.

“Get it?”

mean, you really understand the

see where this might

Ryan…

up again. I try a gentle prompt.

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

not required 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 set the

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

to interfere in the relationship between a Dom and his sub? That's quite

she nods. “I

you tell me what he

But

Crucified with embarrassment.

everyday life here, Kirstie? Or are we in

crying again, tears running furrows through

Ah, fuck….

Weeping women…

Francis?

No…

you and I met, there can't be too many taboos in what we can say to

sweating, she says, “He gets off on

just right for him. He can be as exhibitionist

mean really in public. Parking lots, elevators.

he's taking you too far, you

and her eyes red-rimmed, meet mine.

Shit…

word that can't be used

Charlotte have been together for a while. Was there ever a time, maybe in your early days when…?” Her hand rises to her mouth as though

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