Killer Dom
"You sure you won't reconsider?", Mistress Cora aka Carol Dimmit stretched out a hand across the table.
Thick strong fingers wrapped around the slim ones of the Dominatrix, "I can't, I'm sorry Carol, I have to go, I have to leave the city".
The solid wall of muscle and ink that was Otis Raine shuddered, tears rolling down his face.
"I killed him Carol, I k-killed him".
Former Dominant, Otis Raine cried silently, opening his wallet he withdrew the membership card, placing it on the table he picked up the pen and scrawled his signature on the dotted line, ending his membership and effectively changing his life forever.
The dead stare of Jeremy Lowe, his delicate submissive, plagued his dreams, the blue of his lips, the pale hue of his skin, the coldness of his hands still lingered on his fingers.
"It wasn't your fault Otis, everyone knows that, he was ill, it's not your fault he didn't tell you, there's nothing you could've done", Carol stroked his hand sympathetically, gazing at the broken man, heartbreak in her eyes.
"Tell that to them", Otis sniffled as he watched other Doms and Subs skirt round him at a distance, casting sideways glances, whispering.
"WELL THEY CAN FUCK OFF", Carol raised her voice as a gaggle of muttering twinks passed by, "that's if they want to keep their jobs" she said pointedly causing the young pretty boys to snap their mouths shut and hurry on by.
"I'm sorry Carol, but I have to leave", Otis pushed himself up from the table and walked away.
Six months earlier.
"That's it beautiful, cum for me Jeremy" Otis crooned as his delicious petite sub jerked to a sweet and soundless conclusion.
"Aaaaah Master, thank you" the sweet pink lips parted in a soft sigh, the beautiful lithe pink body glowed as the crowd erupted into applause.
The scene complete, Otis released Jeremy from his shackles, his 'boy' soft and pliant as he hoisted the delicate frame into his arms, planting a loving kiss upon the damp flushed forehead of his lover, his submissive, his Jeremy.
"Master", Jeremy smiled widely, eyes half closed as Otis held him tightly, "did I do well Master?" the young man sighed contentedly as Master Otis nodded, "you did beautifully my love" he smiled widely.
"Thank you Master, I love you" ...........
Jeremy uttered the last words he would ever say.
"Jeremy?...... JEREMY?", the panicked shouts of the Master Dom barely heard above the waining applause grew ever more frantic, "JEREMY?, WAKE UP, JER..........?", oh fuck!".
"SOMEONE CALL A FUCKING AMBULANCE, NOW, HE'S NOT BREATHING", Otis stormed through the crowd, Jeremy laying limp in his arms, knocking people aside, crying, shouting, running towards Cora, the woman already on her phone giving direction to the paramedics.
"He's not breathing, Cora, he's not breathing" Otis's eyes were wild with panic, pupils blown, body rigid as he pulled the limp form closer to his chest.
Reaching the main bar he set the frail form down, gently on the floor, "move, get out of the way, fucking move", he ordered the crowd that was gathering as the booming music stopped and the faint sound of sirens approached.
Beginning chest compressions he tried and tried to bring life back to those lips that had now turned blue, desperately pumping that slim chest, holding that button nose as he filled his lungs and breathed into his lovers mouth.
"We can take over now sir" a paramedic rushed over skidding to a stop on his knees as Otis, like a man possessed, continued counting and breathing, counting and breathing.
"Sir, sir, let me take over, sir, please!".
"Otis, Otis come on" Cora lay a hand on the huge mans shoulder, pulling him back as the paramedic took over, pulling out a stethoscope, laying the shiny metal on Jeremys pale chest, checking his eyes and mouth.
"How long have you been doing CPR sir?" the man in green sat back on his legs with a defeated sigh as his partner kneeled beside him, double checking, triple checking for vital signs.
"T-ten minutes, or-or so" Otis shuddered suddenly feeling exposed in only his low rise leather trousers and bare feet, his standard attire when he and Jeremy performed a scene.
"Ten minutes?" the paramedic quirked an eyebrow as his partner checked his watch and noted something down on his clipboard.
"I'm sorry sir, but......... he's gone", the man in green sighed heavily, pulling his stethoscope off he unfolded and shook out the blanket that someone had brought forward at some point during the melee, draping it gently over the naked body of the 21 year old.
"Gone?".
"Sorry sir, I'm afraid so".
"No, no, no, NO NO NO JEREMY".
The huge body of the Dom crumpled as he fell to his knees, all the strength sucked from his body, all the light gone from his eyes, gathering his lover in his arms sobs wracked his body, heaving, crying, bellowing like a wounded wolf as the lissom form of his lover lay, still, in his arms.
"That's him, that's Master Raine, the killer Dom".
The whispers and stares followed him everywhere he went, the club that used to be his second home, his safe place, his haven from the outside world, now became his prison, incarcerating his memories, bringing them back to haunt him every time he stepped through the doors.
The killer Dom.
Jeremys family had turned their back on him three years ago, when he'd joined the lifestyle, and a year later when he'd accepted Otis's collar, and engagement ring, he'd recieved a letter from a solicitor, his father had cut him from his will, severing their ties for good.
Jeremy had become the reason to wake up each morning to the huge Dom, the reason he smiled, every hour of every day.
He had no one else, it was just him and his dinky love, a mere slip at 5ft 5 to his 6ft 2, 10 stone of waif to his 18 stone of pure muscle.
He'd taken his duty of care as Jeremys Dominant one step further when he'd fallen hopelessly in love with the tiny waif like sweetheart with a fiery temper.
The hazel eyed boy with the long eyelashes and the soft wavy brown hair had taken his breath away, no other submissive had even come close to Jeremy, he was a light in the darkness of the world.
Now that light was gone, snuffed out in mere seconds, leaving his lover wrecked, alone, a shadow of the confident man he'd once been, wracked by crippling guilt.
Stepping through the doors, out of the darkness and the heat of Club Decadence, Otis Raine shuddered again, the chill of the early evening air stinging his hot skin, it wasn't really cold but all Otis's warmth had gone, the air catching the tracks of his tears making them feel like ice trails, ice trails that led straight to the huge mans heart.
Scrubbing a hand fiercely over his damp face the chain on his wrist jingled, the heart shaped tag bearing his lovers name swayed rapidly to and fro, Jeremys collar fitted twice round his wrist, digging in slightly at the clasp.
He could bear the constant pinch, it reminded him of better days, sweet times, love, and a life lost too early.
Trudging home through the evening gloom, the chill setting in, he didn't care that his thin shirt was no protection from the cold, he deserved to be cold, Jeremy was.....
cold.
His life as he knew it had ended, leaving the city was the only way to escape the memories, escape the whispers, escape the relentless disgust of the other Doms and Subs.
Arriving at his front door he gazed around the street he would be seeing for the last time.
The city held nothing for him now, nothing to hold him, nothing but bad memories and pain.
Closing the door behind him, the empty room echoed with shadows of laughter, love and joy, shadows that faded into nothing and were now just bare walls.
Gathering the last of his possessions, a few boxes, the bulk of it and his furniture already in place at his new place, he looked around one last time as the taxi honked its horn outside.
Clutching the shoe box containing the last of Jeremys personal effects he stepped back through the door as the taxi driver came up the steps to help him with the last few dregs of his city life, stowing the boxes in the boot.
Locking the door on his London home for the last time he pushed the key back through the letterbox, having dropped the spare key at the agents already he had no need to linger.
Without a backwards glance he descended the steps and left his old life behind.
![[GL] NO HAY CURA PARA EL AMOR](https://cdn-gcs.inkitt.com/vertical_storycovers/ipad_a315bb5c2e52aa56fd716d78bbcab7ed.jpg)







