“Agreed,” I say. “So, what scenes did you do?”
“Sensory deprivation and whipping. That was Bill’s thing. The last night before I left, we did cock-and-ball torture as well. It was a very intense scene but we’d had a very bad day with those KornFerry dickheads gloating all over us.”
“Uh-huh. Was it just you and Bill during these scenes, or were there other participants?”
“On that last night, another couple participated.”
“Do you remember their names?”
She shrugs. “Sar and Rod. I remember because Bill and I laughed about the guy’s name. I don’t know if those were their real names.”
“Last names?”
“They didn’t say.”
I make notes. The cruise line should have records. “How did you meet Sar and Rod?”
“They were seated at our table for the first formal dinner. Bill got talking with them. He had the most amazing knack for getting people to talk to him. He got the whole story of their lives before the crème brûlée arrived.”
I think of my little girl, sitting in the bathroom, who has the same knack. Maybe it’s a submissive thing.
“Did you arrange to scene with them, or did they just show up while you were doing the scene?”
“Bill arranged it. In the private rooms, you have to. People can’t just wander in and out.”
Which leads me to a question Olsen is not going to like. “Do you know if Bill did scenes with Sar and Rod, or anyone else, after you left the boat?”
She gives me a long, cold stare. “Why?” she asks flatly.
That’s not a no.
“I’m trying to reconstruct his last days on the cruise. If he was with someone, I need to talk with them.”
“I’m not one hundred percent sure, but, yes, I think he did. Bill was, well, the power exchange between us was challenging. He was a difficult, willful sub. I’d planned . . . hmm, it doesn’t matter what I’d planned when he got back, now, does it?”
No, but that she’d clearly planned to punish him tells me a lot. “Did you see him after he got back?”
She shakes her head. “He checked in with me at six the way he was supposed to, but he had plans with Reggie, so the next time I’d have seen him, outside of work, was our usual Tuesday night play session.”
“And you planned to punish him.”
She crosses her arms over that impressive chest. “Enough dicking with me, Mr. Logan. How is this important?”
“I’m trying to understand his time alone on the cruise. What he was doing. What he was thinking. If he was a bad sub and disobeyed his Mistress on purpose, that’s important.”
“I didn’t give him permission to scene with anyone else, that’s for damn sure. He didn’t check in on Friday night. I called him several times but his phone went to voicemail. When I finally spoke to him on Saturday—” She drops her hands to her knees and her hands ball into fists. “He denied anything had happened. He said he’d turned his phone off because he had a headache and went to bed early. But I could tell. You understand what I mean, don’t you, Mr. Logan?”
I more than understand. I can hear Mir’s excuses as clearly as if she were whispering them in my ear right now. I hated her excuses. She had a roster; I heard them all over the years. Misbehave, yes. Take your discipline like a good girl, yes. Lie and cry and try to wiggle out of what’s coming, no.
“Yes, I do,” I say. “You knew he’d broken the rules.”
“More than that. I knew he’d done something completely outside the boundaries. He’d broken rules before. He did occasionally, to get my attention. This was more than that. He did something that threatened our whole power exchange. I’d planned to question him while he was in subspace because I was so concerned about it.”
Not something I approve of. At least not the way she planned. Bottoms are extremely vulnerable in subspace. That’s not the time to grill them. It’s the time to build them up and make sure they feel safe and loved.
“Did you allow him to take drugs?” I ask, to move away from that uncomfortable subject.
“What, the pot smoking? Yes, he did it to relax. That’s not illegal.”
They should put that up on billboards. “Mrs. Black indicated he took a number of drugs including Ecstasy, Viagra and opioids. Did you know about those?”
“Bill didn’t do E when we were together. I wouldn’t have allowed that. Viagra, yes. He was prescribed OxyContin, like everyone else in this damn country, and yes, I thought he leaned on it a little too much, but he did legitimately have sciatic pain, particularly when we travelled.”
“Did he take any drugs while you were aboard?”
She nods. “Oxy. He took some the first night. After that, he didn’t need it.”
“Nothing else?”
“Not that he mentioned or that I saw. We had separate cabins. He could have taken things while he was alone in his room, but I think I would have known. I could always tell when he took the painkillers.”
I tap my pen on my notepad and steel myself for the next question. “Jay MacDonald mentioned that Bill intended to relax with a little pink friend. Did you know about that?”
Her broad brow knits. “No. What’s a little pink friend?”
“Mr. MacDonald thought it might be—” I flip back to the note I made, so I get it right. “Oxymorphone. Do you know what that is?”
“No.” She shakes her head for emphasis. “Look, Mr. Logan, I don’t know about you, but I need to keep myself absolutely clear when I’m topping. I don’t drink, I don’t smoke, and I don’t do drugs. Not even painkillers. Topping’s my high.”
“Same,” I tell her. “I don’t allow my bottoms to do drugs, either.”
Although I’m perfectly happy to give them painkillers, particularly after a session like last night.
Her nostrils flare and her jaw knots. “Are you suggesting I put my sub’s health in jeopardy?”
“No. I’m trying to establish
