Chapter 18: Hangover

Allison felt terrible. Her headache was partly the consequence of the several large glasses of scotch she had downed after Lionel had left but mostly it was because of what had happened while he was in the flat and in particular how she felt about her own behaviour.

She’d called the office and told them that she wasn’t feeling well. That was true, but the trouble was she didn’t know, even when she felt better, how she was ever going to be able to look Lionel in the face, ever again.

It was as she was contemplating a glass of water and two headache pills that her mobile rang. She recognised the voice at once as June Calloway.

“I thought you might want to talk.”

“Why would you think that?”

June ignore Allison’s abrupt response. “Lionel was worried about you but he thought you might not want him to call.”

“He’s right there.”

“He thought it didn’t go well, that he’d upset you.”

“No. No, it wasn’t that.”

“Well, sometimes it just doesn’t work out. You said you weren’t sure if it was for you. I was concerned about you, too. Just let me know if you want me to say anything to Lionel.”

Something about June’s tone made Allison want to confide in her. “No, it wasn’t that either. Quite the opposite. It wasn’t what I expected. I was so turned on. Not out of control exactly but nearly. I scared myself, I guess. And afterwards – well, I just felt awful.”

“It sound like you did exactly the right thing, then. Sometimes I think that tops need a safe word too.”

“I didn’t mean to upset Lionel, it really wasn’t his fault. It was just that I was rougher than I ever thought I could be. And, well,...”

“And...”

“Well, I made use of him. Grabbed him and just, well, used his face. He must have been shocked.”

“Possibly. But I suspect that he was as excited by it as you were at the time. Probably more.”

“And now I don’t know what to do. I promised you I would treat Lionel fairly but if I feel like that over something so simple, well, I don’t know if I can carry on, or even if I should. And, I suppose, I surprised myself. I could never have thought that I would get pleasure out of something like that, of having him helpless and sobbing from being punished by me. Even if he did deserve it, should I have enjoyed it?”

“I’m not sure if it’s a question of ‘should’ or not,” June replied. “I don’t think it’s ever very helpful to look for the rights and wrongs of how we feel about this. Better to say that’s how things are and then deal with that. I can only speak for myself. I’m a professional. For me this is work but sometimes it’s a pleasure too. Sometimes it’s the joy of freeing up someone’s inner fears and desires – it’s good to see someone becoming everything they want to be. Sometimes too, I must confess, there are times when I quite enjoy the fact that someone is suffering at my hands, because sometimes, believe me, they deserve it. That’s when you have to be most careful of all, though.”