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Final Goodbye
Last Updated:
2023-08-01 22:45:28
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Sitting, we talk about the wedding and her plans, ideas and what she wants. “So, I have kept quiet for an hour, talk.” Looking at her, I know what she means but I am not sure I want to talk about it, yet I haven’t really spoken about it. “I don’t know what to say. It has happened and now I am trying my best to move forward.” I am. It is hard but I am slowly getting there. “Well, talk to me about the last few minutes with him, because the first I heard of what was said was in the church.” Sitting, I talk about those last moments, explaining how it was then that I realised just how much I loved him. It was still nothing compared to how much I love Jackson, but it is still a lot more than I admitted to before. Sitting, it actually feels nice talking to Georgina. When I am trying to talk to Jackson, I am scared my feelings for Marcus might hurt him. “Anyway, Liam mentioned the will. I am guessing that was a shock.” Nodding, it was, and no amount of time will make it feel alright
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I look at my Master. He was always so strong, so defined and a leader. Now, looking into his eyes, he is lost, and I can see that he can’t find his way back. I need to guide him back, not just to me but to himself. I was always his follower, but right now, I need to serve him without being asked. I now understand what he meant, ‘sometimes you will just know what I need and do it’. Right now, he needs to find himself again, and I am the one to do it, the only one capable of it.I have never seen a man so broken. His screams are the sound of a broken soul trying to mend itself while, in the process, it causes more pain and misery. It is like his body is overtaken, like he can’t control it, can’t stop it, the crying, the screams rippling through him as he stays collapsed on the floor.The man I am looking at is not my Master. He is far from it. He is a broken man, a destroyed man, with sorrow in his eyes. When I look, all I can see are tears, tears he can’t control, tears he can’t st
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“He has been arrested. I kicked the door open and saw him standing with the gun, waiting. I jumped to the side, and he fired. I had no idea Marcus was behind me. I heard the shot. I heard his body as it slumped to the floor.” I feel my heart break, break for Jackson, who blames himself so much, and break because Marcus is gone.“I chased after him; I nearly killed him, the sight of Marcus on the floor was plaguing my mind like a cancerous cell, spreading too quickly to control. I lost control. I kept hitting him. Everyone pulled me off him. I was ready to kill him, ready to commit murder right there. Max will walk away from this. He might be locked up, but he doesn’t deserve his life.”I never thought I would hear of Jackson losing control. I feel that there is more to this than he is saying. What had he done to Max? Because I feel like he is still hiding something.“You are not to blame. Max is the only guilty one. I am so sorry, Jackson.” My arms wrap around him, trying to comfo
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He sits on the edge of the bed, and I begin to strip.Standing here, naked, I put the blindfold on, standing in the spot I always do, waiting. I hear him move and walk out. I stand here waiting. He sometimes leaves to build up the tension. However, what seems like over an hour later, he still isn’t back.I remove the blindfold and get dressed and go to find him. I walk into our bedroom; he is here, sitting on the bed. Maybe, I should switch, and become his Domme. The last time I used the whip, it drove him wild. Maybe that is the key to bringing him back. He never agreed to me whipping him, he quickly took control when I had before.I grab his hand, trying to prise him off the bed. He stays, unmoving, his eyes looking at me. Every time I look at them, it breaks my heart a bit more.“Trust me, Jackson, as I trust you”. I pull him again; this time he stands up and walks with me. I guide him back to the playroom.Tears build in my eyes as I begin to undress him. When he is fully naked
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I grab the smaller brush, preparing to do his eyes. As my hand reaches up to remove his blindfold, I whisper, “Don’t open your eyes”. I lift it, his eyes staying shut. I slowly stroke the brush across his eye, watching as they flash open, his hands pulling down and ripping the chains from the ceiling.“What the hell are you trying to do Alena, humiliate me so that when I leave everyone can see you’re trying to degrade me?” His hands whip down. As he speaks, he grabs me, throwing me on the bed. His eyes are still not the same, but at least he has responded.He is doing something. He has me pinned to the bed, his eyes black, pitch black. I feel abused just looking at them, trying to hide myself from them. “Don’t ever do that again,” he snaps, then looks at me and now notices my tears.“I hated it, I fucking hated that Jackson, but what choice did I have?” I shout back, my hands trying to fight against his grip. I watch as his face falls, his eyes lightening slightly, but not back to th
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**WARNING** This chapter includes extremely sadistic material, including animal play, degrading, and humiliation. It shows why the BDSM lifestyle should be avoided when someone is not sound-minded.He moves quickly, not even answering me. He has me flipped on my stomach instantly, his hands pulling me up from the bed. He lies me on the table, my stomach against it, my boobs hanging over the edge.The table is small. He grabs my hands, pulling them behind my back. Still, as he does, he lifts my legs, tying my legs to my hands. I nearly cry instantly. He has gone straight for the things I hate, my hard list, one being hogtied. I hate the idea, and now here I am, in that same position. I want to scream ‘peach’, but I don’t, even though I already feel humiliated, even though only he can see me. I feel the blindfold covering my eyes. I am grateful he won’t be able to see my tears.I feel the gag pushing into my mouth, then him putting the ball in my hand. I want to drop it. Maybe me break
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I cry for hours; I hate him, and I hate myself. Why did I let him do that? Why didn’t I stop him earlier? Why was I so foolish? I told him he could do anything to me, and I wouldn’t walk away. I was wrong. I’m not sure if I even want to look at him again.The pain and humiliation are there, just like it was with Max, only under different circumstances. This is my fault, my fault for not saying the safe word, my fault for trying to make him snap back and not thinking of myself. I feel worse, worse because I am solely to blame. Why didn’t I just say the safe word? He would have stopped instantly, at the start, had I done that.I look at the clock. It’s 5 am. I don’t move. I stay lying here, watching the clock: 6 am. 9 am. 10 am.“I am sorry, Alena, please open the door,” Jackson calls through, his fists banging on it. I cover my ears with the pillow. I continue watching the clock. I just stare at it, watching the time pass. It is 11:45 pm. There is a knock at the door. I cover my ear
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My body is screaming to stay away, but my heart needs him, needs his arms wrapped around me, showing me it is okay. He looks at me, not saying a word. I feel like what happened is the real him. If it is, I can’t give him what he wants, and he would be better off without me.“Please don’t leave. I am sorry I went too far.” His plea is filled with hurt and despair at the thought that I am going to leave.“I’m not leaving.” My voice is just a whisper, hardly there at all.“Come and sit, please.” He reaches out his hand, but I shake my head, unable to move closer to him.“This is my fault. I know it is. I should have stopped you before it got that far. I thought I could handle it, and I kept putting it off. I was wrong, and I am sorry. The safe word is there to stop this from happening. I wanted to try to fix you, and in the process, I broke myself.” My words come out in a rush; my apology for being stupid and not saying ‘stop’ when I needed to, is pitiful.He did nothing wrong. He did wh
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Sitting, we talk about the wedding and her plans, ideas and what she wants. “So, I have kept quiet for an hour, talk.” Looking at her, I know what she means but I am not sure I want to talk about it, yet I haven’t really spoken about it. “I don’t know what to say. It has happened and now I am trying my best to move forward.” I am. It is hard but I am slowly getting there. “Well, talk to me about the last few minutes with him, because the first I heard of what was said was in the church.” Sitting, I talk about those last moments, explaining how it was then that I realised just how much I loved him. It was still nothing compared to how much I love Jackson, but it is still a lot more than I admitted to before. Sitting, it actually feels nice talking to Georgina. When I am trying to talk to Jackson, I am scared my feelings for Marcus might hurt him. “Anyway, Liam mentioned the will. I am guessing that was a shock.” Nodding, it was, and no amount of time will make it feel alright
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Sitting, we wait for the solicitor. When he arrives, we sit down to discuss everything. Everyone is happy with the will and we each sign. It feels weird. My signature just made me have 1.8 million pounds for the business, but if it helps women and men who suffer domestic abuse, why not? Everyone leaves and we sit down to eat tea. Our bags are packed ready to leave. “I was thinking, I know the will stated for the business, but could it be used to support other people, not just those who suffered domestic abuse?” Looking at him, he shrugs his shoulders. “I am not sure. The money will be paid into the business account, but I guess it depends on what you were thinking about?” How do I explain this? My mind finds the words and tries to get them in the right order so that it makes sense. “I want to do something similar but for those who have lost someone in the army, navy or similar, or through cases like Marcus’s.” I want something there to support these people, the ones like me who d
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The day has been tiring. Getting home with the bags, I am ready for bed. We spent hours walking around shops getting the things we needed. The girls practically have a full wardrobe of holiday clothes thanks to Jackson. Getting in, we get the girls ready for bed. Sitting together, I read them a story each, the ones Marcus bought them with their own names in. Finishing, we put them in their cots. Walking out, we close the door quietly as they fall asleep. “I was thinking, Liam and Georgina were asking about the holiday and coming along. I understand if you say no. They will be in a hut away from us, but Georgina suggested they come for one or two nights there. They would have the girls for us.” It sounds like a good idea, us all together but separate. We could maybe even get a girls’ night in with me and Georgina, and Jackson and Liam can go out. “What about Helen? Sorry, your mum.” She isn’t well, and I don’t like the idea of her flying or being left alone. “I am going to pay f
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Opening the drawers, I pull out his clothes. Folding them, I put them in a suitcase. With all his clothes away, I move onto one of the trunks. Opening it, I am shocked. It is a range of toys, all different. I had no idea he had brought it all here, but it has me wondering, would he have been sitting looking at these wishing he could use them with me? Does he have a favourite like Jackson? Getting to the bottom, there is not much in here, just his own toys, whips and things. Putting it back, I don’t even know what we would do with these. Opening another trunk, there is an envelope on top. Opening it, I start to read it. Marcus is divorced. He told us they were going through it but never mentioned it being made official. Putting it to the side, I find more letters, nothing important. Then I see a solicitor one, with the word ‘Will’ on it. I won’t open this. I can’t. Placing it to the side, I leave it for Jackson. Another envelope, this one with my name on. It isn’t small; it is b
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Jackson is standing with a woman, one of Marcus’s submissives. She looks upset and hurt, not like Maria. Standing, I watch. They stand talking, her eyes filled with tears. It just shows how amazing Marcus was and how loveable. The rest of the day goes ahead slowly. Sure enough, Maria left after Troy told her she had no right to be there. Jackson spent most of his time by my side. The team were amazing and constantly checking on me. Getting home, the girls are already in bed. Helen hugs us before saying bye and leaving with Liam and Georgina. I don’t feel like I have said goodbye. With everyone there, I couldn’t say what I wanted without some asking questions. It still feels weird here without Marcus around us. Sitting at the table, I now understand what he meant. I did the same thing the past week: me pretending my life didn’t exist. Jackson sits opposite me and his hands grasp mine. “You are the only person he told that to, you know? I checked. None of us knew why he stared i
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Walking downstairs, everyone is here: the whole team, Marcus’s other friends, and a few women. I don’t know who they are yet I feel I want to know. Walking to Jackson’s side, he wraps his arm around me. “We should walk around and say hi. I will introduce you to people he knew that you have not met.” Nodding, I agree. I should know who these people are. “How will you introduce me? What will you introduce me as in regard to Marcus and exactly how much do the team know?” Jackson turns, looking at me in surprise. Whether that is at my questions or the fact that is the most I have spoken in days, I don’t even know. “Well, I will introduce you as my wife and the closest person to Marcus before he passed. The team know everything. I had to tell them about it all. Explaining why you are this broken by him dying would not work by lying, Alena.” The closet person to Marcus…he used to be the closet person to Marcus. Had that changed? We start walking around the room, Jackson introducing
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Jackson walks back through towards me. Turning on the kettle, he grabs two cups. “She doesn’t want to do anything. She said it is up to the team to plan his funeral.” As I thought, she does not care about him at all, not even now in his death. “I want to help with the funeral.” Maybe helping will help me. I don’t even know if it will but surely it is worth a try? Jackson hands me the cup of tea. Walking to the sofa, we sit, his arm around me. “I don’t want you to be strong for me, Alena. Yes, I am hurting, a lot, but seeing you broken is what is keeping me going. I can’t be weak when you need me.” I don’t even know what to say anymore. I just want to hide away. “Whatever you want, Alena. Whatever you need to get you through this, I will do.” I don’t even know what I want or need right now. “Marcus mentioned a plan for that night, something for me. What exactly was it?” Maybe knowing this will help. Maybe it won’t but I won’t know until I ask. “Well, I heard you talking to hi
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He walks back in. Sitting next to me, his hand grips mine. “Alena, you didn’t let him down and you certainly did not kill him. Remember his last words: that he was happy because of you and no one else. You made him happy. That should be enough for you to realise.” Nodding, I agree. He did say that. “It won’t help bring him back, though, and he still died because of me. Everyone will hate me. I saw the way Troy looked at me. He tried smiling and couldn’t. Even he blames me.” What a year this has started out to be: New Year’s Day and we already have a death. “Stay here.” Jackson walks out. I see him talking to the team. They all look towards me and then back to Jackson. Walking back to me, Jackson is followed by them all. Walking into the room, I prepare myself for their abuse and the blame. “Alena, we don’t blame you at all. I tried smiling. The only reason I couldn’t is because you look more hurt and broken by this than any of
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Everyone walks in. The police come, asking me questions. I can see their lips moving but there is no sound, no sound just silence and Marcus’s last words on replay. I watch as Troy, Alexander and the other lads come in, all staring at me, unsure what to say. Jackson gives me space. My heart breaks seeing every one of their faces, the pain of the loss. Hours pass by, everyone walking around and talking but I take none of it in. “Alena, go get a shower. Please, do something.” Jackson kneels in front of me, but I can’t move. I can’t go away. I can’t do it. “I don’t know how to help her.” Jackson’s words are quiet. No one can help. Marcus has gone. I watched it myself. He isn’t coming back. This isn’t like Jackson, where there is nobody, no proof. I saw the body, felt it drain of blood and turn cold in my hands. “Marcus would be the one to tell me what to do.” Jackson’s head lowers. Marcus was more than his friend, and his brot
