Czar Gregovivk Part 3

"“It started with videos. Pornographic sites of women tied up, being whipped, gagged, anything that involved domination and sadomasochism.” Her voice trembles as she tries to sound strong, even though she wants to break down in tears with every word she utters. “I masturbated constantly: at home, in the college bathroom, and I avoided going out so I could keep masturbating. The more I did it, the more my body craved it. I was so out of control that I even ended up hiding under the bed to masturbate because of the suffocating feeling.”
She gives me a sad smile, her eyes shining with the first drops of tears that make them misty. “Did you talk to your sexual partner about this at the time?” I take a deep breath and feel a certain discomfort imagining her being neglected by some jerk who didn’t understand what she needed, or maybe he’s the one responsible for her being here.
“There was no partner; I used vibrators,” she replies, embarrassed, taking a deep breath and shaking her head. “It was just me doing that to myself every day. My performance in college dropped; I didn’t care about anything except finding pleasure. I even masturbated at work in the bathroom. And then…” She falls silent and closes her eyes, allowing me to see the tears rolling down her cheek.
“Open your eyes for me, Mabel,” I say calmly, giving her the command. “And then?”
Mabel shakes her head, and the tears roll down her face with more intensity. Her eyes open, and she bites her lip, allowing me to see her pain reflected in each dark iris. “I paid a stranger I met on the internet to beat me.” She covers her mouth and bends forward, resting her head on her leg as she cries.
I take a deep breath and feel my fingers clench at my sides as I ball them into fists. I wish I could cross the short distance between us, throw her over my knees, and give her a severe punishment for putting her life in danger so carelessly and recklessly.
“Do you have any idea what could have happened to you?” I growl the words with hatred, staring at her, imagining a completely unqualified person, with no clue how to practice BDSM, hitting her.
“I know… Oh, my God, I know…” She cries harder and shakes her shoulders as her sobs intensify. “I was scared; I didn’t understand what was happening to me; I just wanted it to stop, for this damn need to go away… I just wanted to go back to being who I was before that monster destroyed my life.”
My head lifts to Mabel upon hearing her words, and I march toward her with heavy steps. “What monster?” I ask angrily, feeling no patience to control my demons. “Which monster are you referring to? The man you paid to hit you…” I stop and think, replaying all her words in my head.
I stretch my arms forward and grab her by the shoulders, lifting her off the sofa, forcing her to look at me. I see the tears rolling down her cheek, making her look like a completely frightened child in front of me. “What really triggered these needs in you, Miss Shot?” I grip her shoulders tightly, holding her close to me, now realizing that it wasn’t just what she’s telling me that happened. “Answer my question!” I shout, raising my voice.
The sound of someone knocking at the door makes Mabel flinch and avert her eyes from me, closing them again, like an oyster guarding its secrets inside. “Go away, I’m busy!” I dismiss whoever is knocking and keep my eyes on her.
I release her left shoulder and lay my hand flat on her back, pulling her closer to me, trying to reconnect with her again. I hold her chin and slide my finger across her cheek, wiping away her tears. “Look at me, little one.” My tone shifts to calm, softening, as I gaze over her sad face. She delicately tilts her face into my hand, becoming completely submissive, receiving my caress and giving me a sorrowful look. “Who hurt you, little bird?”
“Czar, I need you to come here.” I recognize Sieta’s voice calling me, and she begins knocking insistently on the door again. “It’s urgent! You know that if it weren’t, I wouldn’t be here calling you.”
If there was any chance of getting her to talk, I just lost it as Mabel pulls away from my touch. She takes a step aside and walks toward the fireplace, hugging herself. I take a deep breath and direct my eyes to the door, glaring at it with anger as Sieta knocks again.
“Wait here, I’ll be back, Miss Shot.”
I walk to the door and open it, glaring at Sieta, feeling the urge to break her slender neck. “I hope it’s really urgent!” I growl the words and take a step outside, closing the door behind me.
“In your office, now, Greg!” Sieta’s face is flushed, and she walks quickly toward my office.
I glance one last time at the door before turning and following Sieta. When we reach the end of the hallway, I see her stop in front of my office door and open it. Before I can ask her what happened, I understand Sieta’s nervous expression and why she urgently called me. A correspondent from Sodoma, a sort of courier from the council, is standing in the middle of the room, waiting for me.
“Counselor Gregovivk.” He greets me with a nod, opens his briefcase, and takes out a gray envelope. “I presume you already know why I’m here.”
He gives me a polite smile and extends the envelope toward me. I nod at him, knowing exactly why a correspondent is in my home. “I have an idea,” I reply flatly, extending the envelope to Sieta without even opening it to read. “How much time do I have before the hearing before the councilors?”
“You have 22 days to gather your witnesses,” the correspondent replies politely, nodding before leaving the room.
“Oh my God! Oh my God, that bitch!” Sieta exclaims, angrily crumpling the envelope along with the gold sheet she’s holding. “Morgana requested a trial; it says here that you broke the rules of Sodoma. That bitch, that wretched woman!”
I rub my face and take a deep breath, trying to think through my next steps. I was sure this would eventually happen."