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Chapter 1 Black Tie Affair
Out of sheer boredom I reach for one of the local New York papers and read it while sipping a cup of coffee. “Socialite found bound, gagged, nude, and dead while wearing handcuffs. Her arms over her head, fastened to her bed in her Park Avenue apartment. Nude and dead,” I repeated. Sounds like the first time I met Max when he left me and didn’t call. I felt dead when I thought I would never feel him inside of me ever again.
“A five hundred dollar silk scarf tied neatly around her neck.” Why would the papers put the price of the scarf, I asked myself. “Her lover explained that it was all a game, when the police questioned him. “Ask the husband he knows, he was watching,” quoted the lover.
“How is this news?” I questioned throwing the paper across the room. “Is that all they can write about. Women finding pleasure in having a lover and her husband watching them in bed?” I murmured to myself. What’s the world coming to?
Then I thought, this woman can be me in a few more years if I don’t do something besides wake up in the morning, get dress, and wait for Max to summon me. Maybe he’ll come tonight, maybe tomorrow, who knows. I’m a perfect candidate for the front page:
Wife of billionaire Maximillian Blackstone arrested for flogging her naked lover and holding him as a sex slave: “I haven’t had sex with my husband in months and my nerves were on edge. The sexiest man alive has traded me in for an even younger woman. I’m barely twenty-four, and because of lack of serious sex, and boredom, I found a lover I could handcuff to my bed, masturbate on me, and fuck me senseless,” The wife confessed. News at eleven.
That would make for great headlines if I had nothing to live for, but I do.
It’s raining in New York and I’m watching Central Park from my mansion in the sky. What am I doing here anyway? It was my stupid idea to move here. I must be crazy. I convinced Max that I would be happier. I see him during dinner when the children are awake. After that, it’s a guess when the next time he’ll show his face. And a gorgeous face at that. It has been weeks since he came home or called. He has an apartment a block away, which he uses to sleep and entertain clients, so I leave him alone. I promised him I wouldn’t cling to him. I know he’s under pressure with Charles making bids on his properties. He would do anything not to sell to him.
Leaning back with my legs extended on the chaise lounge, I’m trying to count all the people walking in the rain. They’re little dots, like ants scurrying around under foot from where I sit in the clouds.
I was happy when Max asked me to marry him. I married him because I loved him. I’m beginning to think that the only reason he married me was because of the children and he didn’t want Charles or anyone else to have me.
He’s like that with people and property, maybe he can’t tell the difference. They close the hole in his heart and keep the demons at bay. I guess he considers me his property, me, the children, and the dog. He’s like a child with a toy. Max doesn’t want anyone to play with his toys. He hides them in the closet and maybe pull his toys out when he becomes bored or stumbles on them by mistake.
That reminds me, we are running low on lubricant and toys, not for the children but for us.
That’s me—Alexander Bishop his Dom for the day, wife for a lifetime, and who the hell knows about the next minute. All I know is he hasn’t been in me for a month.