The Good Dom Read online

  But the real reason I wanted to return to the police force was due to Amy. I respected her as a wonderful yoga instructor and I wanted to do something with my life to earn her respect as well. Amy wasn’t the kind of woman to be easily won over by the riches my business could provide. To be truly compatible with her, I needed to do something in my professional life that was honorable. I fantasized about coming home in my blue uniform one day and seeing the look of love and admiration in her eyes. We could get married, raise a family together and live a normal productive life.

  The day I met Sergeant Jones in his office was an extremely eventful day in my life. At the appointed time on Sunday morning I was led into the Sergeant’s office and he greeted me warmly with a handshake. I didn’t see any of the officers I had known from three years ago. Perhaps they were out in the field. I had remembered the Sergeant’s wife and son’s name and I think he appreciated that. He took a few current pictures out of his wallet and showed them to me.

  “So, Jim, I don’t think you came in to listen to me brag about my kid. What can I do you for?” the Sergeant asked.

  “Sir…” I said nervously, “I want back in…”

  “Jim…”

  “Wait Sergeant, hear me out. I was ranked at the top of my class at the academy. I also graduated at the top of my class at UIC and hold a Masters of Arts in Criminal Justice. With my test scores and pedigree, I was recommended to go into the CIA or FBI, but I wanted to work the streets of Chicago, like my Father and his Father before him. It’s in my blood and I miss it, Sergeant Jones. Listen, I heard that my Training Officer who won the case against me got written up for excessive treatment of a suspect during an interrogation.”

  “Where’d you hear that Jim?” Sergeant Jones asked.

  “Through the grapevine.”

  I waited for him to comment, but he stared at me, not confirming or denying it.

  “You must know I got screwed over here, Sergeant Jones.” I said. “I thought maybe enough time has passed by now and-”

  “Jim…” Sergeant Jones interrupted. “I heard you developed some kind of night club or bar for yourself. A lot of current and former police officers have done that. Your club is very popular, I’m told. I’m in touch with the Precinct Captain over in that district and I’ve heard he’s never once had to send a squad car out there, so it must be a very well run operation. Congratulations Jim.”

  “Thanks Sergeant, but-”

  “You must be making a nice piece of change from that place, a nice nut to retire on, a hell of a lot more than the pension these guys around here are getting.”

  “Sergeant Jones, with all due respect, I don’t care about the money. I miss being a cop. It’s all I ever wanted to be. I got… unfairly treated here. All I’m asking is for another chance…”

  “I’m sorry, son. It’s not something I can authorize.”

  “It’s all water under the bridge by now isn’t it? Nobody remembers, do they?”

  “You took the money from the lawsuit against the CPD, Jim. They’ll never take you back now, no matter how many years go by.”

  “What did you expect me to do, sir? I lost my wife and home, I was facing bankruptcy and I wanted to give the poor man who was physically assaulted by the police officer money for his pain and suffering…”

  “I understand Jim. I’m not judging you personally. I’m just telling you the way it works… Did you ever find the man that was allegedly beaten by Officer Wagner? Perhaps, if you found him and he would testify, we could reopen the -”

  “No… I looked and looked… I think… he may have died from his injuries. If I only knew his name I could’ve found his family and perhaps… provided some material comfort, but… I never found him…”

  “I understand Jim… I wish I could help you, but… my hands are tied in this matter…”

  Sergeant Jones stood up and reached out his hand to me. I stood up greatly disappointed, shook the officer’s hand and left the office.

  The second I closed the door behind me I saw him. I slid my hand slowly off the doorknob and stood riveted to my spot, my jaw set, staring at him. He was a small man but thickly built, his upper body knotted with muscle. He exchanged his tan military uniform for a blue one and was armed. My first thought was to calculate if I had the time to disarm one of the other officers in the room and fire the weapon at him, before I was subdued or shot. Sensing my penetrating gaze, Grace’s husband looked up from his desk and returned my stare.

  “What are you looking at?” he said, spitting out the words.

  I said nothing, gritted my teeth and stood my ground. Did I have time to take him out? I wasn’t sure. If I was going to do it, I had to decide in the next few seconds. The thought occurred to me that it didn’t matter if I shot him, as long as I went down trying. He stood up, dropped his pen and raised his voice.

  “I asked you something! What the fuck are you looking at, you ugly fuck?”

  Another officer, who I assumed to be his partner, appeared at his side. Grace’s husband unbuckled the wooden club on the side of his belt.

  “Patrick! What’s wrong?” the other officer said.

  “I don’t know. Quasimodo here comes out of Sarg’s office and starts giving me the stink eye. In my house! Is this what I get for serving two tours in Afghanistan? Who the fuck does he think he is! You got a problem, buddy?”

  “Yeah, actually. I do,” I said in a calm even voice.

  “You want to take this outside?” he said, threateningly.

  “OK, sure,” I said, smiling my crooked smile.

  Sergeant Jones came out of his office at the same moment Grace’s husband shoved me backwards into an old metal filing cabinet, which made a loud clanging sound when my back hit it.

  “What the blazes? Officer Johnson. What are you doing? Stand down!” the Sergeant barked out.

  Johnson’s partner came forward and took him by the arm to restrain him.

  “Whoa Pat! What’s the deal? You know this guy?” the partner said.

  “No,” Grace’s husband said.

  “Then chill out. I’m sorry Sarg. Pat’s been wound up all week,” the partner said.

  “Johnson! Wait for me in my office. Jim… I think our business here is complete. Let me escort you out of the precinct.”

  I left the police station quietly, my teeth grinding and my stomach churning inside.

  “I don’t know what that was all about back there Jim. I’d like to apologize on behalf of the 47th Precinct. Are you alright, son?” the Sergeant asked.

  I nodded and walked away from the police station, for good.

  Grace’s husband was a cop… A cop… I walked back to the car, wanting to scream out in rage at the top of my lungs.

  I checked my watch and only had a few minutes to make it over to the soup kitchen where I planned to meet Amy that day. I tried to compose myself and drove over the speed limit, in order to make it there by 2.

  I took a deep breath and met Amy. After we did our volunteer service, we went out for a nice lunch to have our planned “talk”. Amy told me once more how she wanted to take our relationship to the next level and make a long-term commitment to each other, perhaps even move in together eventually, but first she wanted to know more about who I was and what I did for a living.

  I never exactly explained to Amy about the night club I owned and the clientele I catered to. Obsessions seemed in a completely different world to me now. I never even stared at the women there anymore, now that I had a girlfriend. It was like any other business and I continued to manage the club to make sure the vulnerable women who came there were safe. My sexual fantasies now were all about Amy, though memories of what happened with Grace occasionally snuck in. Though I had plenty of steamy bondage fantasies about Amy, I never told her about them and of course would never act upon them with her. Amy lived quite contentedly in the “vanilla” world, as my BDSM patrons would say. Though I knew she was an open-minded and accepting person, I thought it best to keep the t
wo worlds separate from her.

  “How are your various business ventures, Jim?”

  I flashed for a moment on the exposed beet-red cheeks of a submissive after a public spanking session in one of the private rooms, and on a bound and blindfolded woman putting on a show in the next room, writhing like a serpent under the lash of the whip.

  “Business is booming,” I said.

  “I know you said you’re an entrepreneur,” Amy said, “but you never told me much about them. Why are you keeping everything such a secret from me, Jim?”

  “Well, I wasn’t sure how you’d react to what I do for a living.”

  “I told you Jim, I’m a very open-minded person. I’m not judgmental. I’m spiritual, not religious. I’ve already done a birth chart comparison and it proved to me we have a basic compatibility. I was just curious about what you did in your professional life. It’s important before we take that next step in our relationship to know everything about each other, to be completely honest with each other about who we are, don’t you think?”

  I took a deep breath and though I felt nervous about it, I proposed a visit to Obsessions that evening.

  “The place I own is a little hard to explain Amy. I was going to swing by the bar later to check on things. Why don’t you come with me and I’ll give you a tour. OK?”

  “Great honey. I’m really looking forward to seeing it. It’s a bar then? Is it a formal club? What do women wear there?”

  “Oh, uh… Not formal, particularly. Do you have a… cocktail dress you could wear?”

  “I think so. Let’s stop by my apartment on the way so I can get changed. I’m so excited!”

  After Amy got dressed up and did her makeup, we drove to Obsessions. She looked great in her dress and I was proud to have her on my arm. We entered the club a few hours after it opened, hand in hand. The place was packed, even on a Sunday night.

  “Oh my Lord Jim! Your club is so large. It’s so fancy inside. And there are so many people here. It must be very popular. I love the way you’ve decorated…”

  The moment she saw the two submissives standing in Area 3 of the club, their chained arms stretched over their heads and their ankles securely handcuffed to the O-rings mounted into the floor, Amy froze in place, staring at them. They were surrounded by several men, who were taking turns kissing their lips and neck and fondling their breasts, while a small crowd watched.

  I thought, perhaps naively, that Amy would understand the situation, and accept it. She was a sensual, liberal-minded woman and I had hoped she wouldn’t judge the alternative lifestyles of the patrons that my club catered to. But by the shocked look in her eyes, I knew right away I had made a tremendous mistake. I should’ve called ahead or texted my security staff to tone down the sexuality of the club for Amy’s visit, but now it was too late. The club was in full Bacchanalian mode by 9PM. Amy knitted her brow together, her lips parted, as one of the men unbuttoned a submissive’s blouse and unhooked her bra, completely exposing her breasts. The chained woman shut her eyes and tilted her head back as the men took turns cupping her breasts in their hands and sucking upon her swollen areolas and hardened nipples. Bad timing to give Amy the grand tour…

  “Jim… What is going here?”

  “Amy… Allow me to explain…”

  “Why have you allowed those women…?”

  “Listen Amy. Perhaps this isn’t really a good time for me to show you my club. I should’ve better prepared you for…”

  “They’re… arms are chained to the ceiling. And those men… those disgusting men are…”

  I softly took Amy’s arm and attempted to guide her back a few feet toward the front entrance.

  “Amy… Perhaps we can go somewhere, sit down and I can calmly explain to you about this particular -”

  She moved her shoulder abruptly and my fingers slipped away from her arm. She raised her voice at me for the first time in our relationship.

  “Let go of my arm Jim! No! We’re not leaving here until you explain what the hell is going on in this place of yours!”

  Several patrons looked over in our direction at the loud voice.

  “Please lower your voice Amy…”

  I had a sense of foreboding that my shitty day was about to turn a lot worse.

  “Perhaps we could go back into my office a talk. It’s much quieter there. May I offer you a drink from the bar Amy?”

  She crossed her arms across her chest, unable to take her eyes off the chained women.

  “You know I don’t drink alcohol Jim.”

  “I didn’t mean alcohol. I could offer you an assortment of juices. We have orange, cranberry, tomato. Perhaps a sparkling water?”

  “I’m not thirsty Jim. Where is your office?”

  “It’s… down the corridor past the bar on your right. Just up ahead.”

  Amy started to inch her way through the dense crowd. I tried to remember who was scheduled in the two private rooms, but I had left the day to day operations in the hands of my chief of security and had no idea what to expect. Because of Amy’s yoga training, she was agile and slender, and got ahead of me, slipping her body through the crowd with ease. By the time I joined her she was staring through the glass into the private rooms, her teeth clenched and her facial expression set in a grimace. It was the worst possible scenario. Even the gynecological exam scene would’ve been better than this. In Room One, there was a mock slave auction going on. A pretty pale submissive stood on a platform, completely disrobed; her gaze cast downward, her wrists tied behind her back with rope. She appeared to be crying actual tears. Her Dominant, dressed in the flowing princely costume of a rich, Middle-Eastern sheik, was touting his submissive’s virtues, her obedience and the sexual services she was trained to provide. The Dominant began selling his slave off to the highest bidder. Once the bidding started, the woman collapsed to the floor, her chest heaving with deep full-throated sobs. The submissive knelt in front of him, desperately confessing her love for him and begging her Master not to be sold to another man. The Dominant gently took his submissive in his arms and explained how precious she was too him, that he too had become emotionally attached during the course of their time together, but that she was a slave girl and he had a coterie of other beauties in his Harem to attend to. He kissed his submissive, dried her eyes with a tissue and helped her back onto the platform. He raised her chin with his fingertips so she was forced to make direct eye contact with the audience and the bidding continued anew. The scene played out in a completely realistic manner, with the various men in the room bidding on her flesh.

  Even worse, in Room Two, a disciplining session was going on. A large muscled Dominant dressed completely in leather presented his comely submissive to the crowd, dressed only in thigh high white stockings, high heeled shoes and a collar around her neck with leash attached. The Dominant claimed his charge had been “disobedient” and she had submitted to a “public instruction.” Pulling downward on the leash, the Dominant forced the submissive to her knees, placing the spanking paddle between her teeth and leading her by the leash into the crowd. The Dominant offered the men an opportunity to assist him in disciplining his subject and they immediately lined up for the chance. The first man in line took the paddle from the submissive’s teeth and pulled up on the leash, leaning her over a high-backed wooden chair. Unfortunately, the chair was directly positioned against the window we were looking through and the submissive’s face was just inches away from Amy, separated by just the thin plate of glass. The submissive looked up and saw the look of absolute revulsion in Amy’s eyes. The advanced sound system I had installed allowed for even the softest voice in the room to be distinctly heard in the corridor. The submissive flashed Amy a pleasant smile and whispered in a kindly, flirtatious voice.

  “First time here honey? Don’t worry. It hurts a little bit, but once you get used to it, it’s a very pleasurable sensation.”

  The woman arched her back side and the paddle came down hard upon her, painting he
r skin red. Her eyes widened and her mouth opened at the impact. She breathed in sharply, looked directly into Amy’s eyes and winked. Suddenly Amy darted away through the crowd to the back of the corridor. When I caught up with her, she was facing the back exit.

  “Amy… You’ve passed my office. It’s right in here.”

  I unlocked the door and held it open for her.

  “Please come in and sit down. It’s quiet in here. We can talk and I can… try to explain.”

  Without making eye contact, Amy passed through the doorway and sat on the couch. I followed her at a distance and sat on a chair near her.

  “I’m… sorry, Amy. I know you must be upset.”

  “Of course I’m upset.”

  “I didn’t want you to see that…”

  After a long pause, Amy spoke in a shaking voice.

  “All my life… all my life I have fought for the empowerment of women. This… horrid “club” of yours has put the freedom and equality of woman back to the dark ages.”

  “I know this must look bad to you, and I assure you, I never intended to create this sort of place, originally. I think I told you how I was unjustly fired from the police force after reporting a legitimate case of police abuse and then I went through a painful divorce after I discovered my wife was unfaithful to me.”

  “Yes yes Jim, you told me all about that. But what does all that have to do with -”

  “I was trying to start my life over Amy. I bought this place with the settlement money from my wrongful termination lawsuit against the police force. At first no one was patronizing the bar. I was facing bankruptcy, I was in a great deal of credit card debt, and I needed an angle to attract more customers -”