Da · Bomb · Creations

Title: A Different Evening
Fandom: Law & Order: CI
Character(s): James Deakins (w/ other)
25_crimes Set/Theme: CI/02. Beast
50_darkfics Prompt: 020. Master
100moods Prompt: 063. Mischievous
au100 Promp: 046. King
fanfic100 Prompt: 090. Home
lover100 Table/Prompt: B/043. Opportunity
philosophy_20 Prompt: 19. Caught in a form of limitation
psych_30 Prompt: 20. Learned Helplessness
smut_69 Prompt: 09. Massage
Word Count: 490
Rating: PG
Summary: The difference between work and home was like night and day.
Warnings: Refers to 24/7 BDSM lifestyle
Author's Notes: Sometimes, she really is asking for it. Then it's not illegal. Screw you WFI!

Tables


Each day he got up and went to work, the picture of professionalism. He wore a suit, tie and badge. He carried a gun and handcuffs. He sat behind a desk. He had no complaints about what he did for a paycheck. It was enjoyable and consistent. Even the times that he was yelled at by the men who worked above him were tolerable. He was a middle manager and he had accepted this role.

When he went home, things were different. A middle manager at work, he was Master at home. His world was completely of his own making. His daughters called him sir and were well behaved, having learned long ago that their father had no tolerance for things being out of place. His wife also knew the way of things, calling him Sir when the girls were around and Master when they were alone.

He never used her name. She was an object, a role she had gladly taken on when they had first met. She was a bound slave, he a thorough owner. To the outside world, they were a loving couple, completely devoted to each other and their daughters. At home, it went deeper.

She was content, happy, in her place. He always knew what was best for the family. Their daughters were being raised with love and respect, learning to be strong, independent women. He would accept nothing less from them. He was as devoted to them and she was to him.

No one but he ever saw the bruises. He was skilled with the toys he used on her, leaving nothing that would betray them or bring the police into their house. His games were always more mental anyway. He enjoyed watching her squirm, anticipating the next punishment.

In the years they had been together, he had used her every way possible, taking great pleasure in causing her pain. She had relished in every moment of it, even when her screams became so loud he was forced to gag her. In the end, she always begged for more, insisting that it was her place to take whatever he had to give.

The night he asked her to do something different, she balked. She had never been comfortable with any other role but the one she lived every day. His question had come out of the blue and she had no idea what he expected of her. She sat dumb, mouth gaping open and confusion in her eyes, for nearly ten minutes before he would no longer accept the silence.

She shook her head so fervently, he thought it was going to fly off. His laughter cut through the room and she whimpered her deeper confusion. He pet her hair and pointed out that he could order it. When she started to cry, he stopped pressing and kissed her forehead.

"Then I'll just have to pay someone to give you a massage, my pet."