The Aviators

“Valary! Where the hell did- oh, there you are.”

I swing my head around as the door opens and Matt’s head pops around the edge. I give him a faint smile and wave to him. He leans against the doorframe and smiles back.

“What’re you doing?”

I hold up my journal. The corners of his eyes crinkle slightly. Then he pushes away from the doorway, approaching the bed.

I shift my weight a little, tilting my head. “Join me, Master?”

Matt smiles and climbs on the bed, the mattress dipping beneath his bulk. He shuffles around, settling next to me, pulling me close into his side. Leaning my head against his shoulder, I give a soft sigh. He nuzzles into my hair, tucking several strands behind my ears. I peek up at him; his eyes twinkle at me. Blushing, I lower my eyes and return my concentration to my journal.

Matt plays with my hair, remaining in silence, obviously content to just relax with me for a moment. I scribble away absently, but then stop and look up at him again.

“Uh, why aren’t you with the others?”

Matt smirks. “Might ask the same of you, Val.”

“Well, I just needed to be by myself, Master.” I look down, feeling a little anxious. He cups my chin and tilts it up, frowning at me. I bite my lip gently. He brushes his thumb slowly across my lower lip.

Then he says, “You never had a lot of time to yourself, did you.” It’s not quite a question.

I blink hard, stomach rolling slightly, before giving a tiny nod. “No, Master.”

Matt sighs, tilting his head back against the large pillow. His dark hair contrasts against the white of the cover. He breathes deeply then swears softly, before meeting my gaze again.

“Well, I have a proposal then.”

I look curiously at him. “A proposal?”

“Yeah. A couple of hours a day which is solely for yourself, without me, to do whatever you wanna do.” Matt quirks his eyebrows at me. “What do you reckon?”

For some inexplicable reason, tears begin to fill my eyes. One drop finds its way from the corner of my eye down my left cheek. Wiping furiously at my face, I try to smile at him. His brow furrows.

“Val?”

“I’m okay,” I sniffle, rubbing at my eyes. “I...just. No one’s ever...”

“Yeah,” Matt interrupts firmly, “I’m not any of those jerks. I’m your master. And I say you get some ‘Valary’ time. Every day.” He strokes his thumb along my left cheekbone. “Starting from now. So, if you want me to leave, I will.”

I stare at him, a little awestruck. His lips curve in a tender expression, and he rubs the tip of his nose against my cheek. I shiver a little, but then shake my head.

“No, want you to stay, please.” I place my hand against his, holding on for a moment. He looks at our linked hands then nods, settling back against the pillow again.

“Sure. I’ll stay.” He breathes out slowly, wrapping his arm around my waist, and tilting his head so he can watch me. Relaxing into his side once more, I pick my pen up and go back to writing.

Several minutes pass before I stop, giving my hand a rest. “Are they still here?”

“Nah.” Matt rakes his fingers through his hair. “They left.”

I nod slightly, then murmur, “Get any work done, Master?”

Matt chuckles. “Yeah, we got some rad ideas going ‘round between the five of us. Even Johnny had a couple of song ideas, which isn’t usual. He usually leaves the initial song ideas to Jimmy and I.”

I nod again; he adds quietly, “A lot of things have happened in the world, y’know...I’m figuring the new album’s going to take us all on a pretty...dark journey.” He sighs softly. “Anyway, we were starting to go in circles over a point...so we decided to call it a day.”

Glancing up at him, I tilt my head. Matt smiles at me, and then frowns slightly.

“Um...before he left, Zacky said he’d see if he could find something on that card.”

“Oh.” I purse my lips. “So, you didn’t find anything online?”

Matt shakes his head. “Nope.”

Shifting, so as to lay across his stomach, I peer up into his face. “Well, it might just be nothing.” I’m hoping it’s nothing, because for once I want my premonitions to be proven unfounded. I don’t want every little thing I suspect to actually be true. Because, it’s usually bad for me. I always end up getting hurt. And, I don’t want to be hurt anymore.

Matt closes his eyes for a moment, resting them. Then he slits them studying me, I assume. “What if it is something?”

“I don’t know, Master. Guess we’ll just have to figure it out if that’s the case.” I twirl my pen between my thumb and fingers.

He nods, and then asks, “You see my message?”

Sliding my other hand over the pages of my journal, I nod. “Yes.” I don’t trust myself to say anything more than that. The words he wrote are still hard for me to fathom. I can’t believe he wrote them. No man has ever let me know how they felt about me in such an intimate and personal manner. Sure, I might be able to formulate a response in writing, but to say anything more out loud is kind of unsettling to me.

Matt rubs a thumb across the back of my neck. Then he dips his head down, pressing his lips into my hair. Shivering, I shift a little, gazing up into his face. The corners of his mouth turn up, dimples appearing on either side. I feel my cheeks going pink and lower my eyes again.

He chuckles softly before resting his head back against the pillow. I sit up a little, observing his face. He notices me looking, and wrinkles the bridge of his nose and crosses his eyes. I burst into a fit of giggles. He looks...cute...when he does that. That thought stops my laughter. Matt looks at me and uncrosses his eyes.

“You okay?”

I stare at him, and then blurt out, “I’m not beautiful.” I gasp realising seconds after what I just said, blushing right to the roots of my hair. I duck my head down suddenly unable to look Matt in the face. There’s a moment’s silence, filled only by our breaths, mine shallow, and nervy, his calm, steady.

To his credit, Matt makes no comment; instead, he tilts my chin, making me meet his eyes. Then he smiles, the warmth somehow calming my jittery nerves.

I breathe out slowly and whisper, “Forget I said that, Master.”

Matt looks at me thoughtfully. He’s obviously formulating a response to my request. His eyes narrow slightly, eyelashes lowering over his stare. Then he speaks quietly, but firmly, “Val, I told you not to argue with me. I always mean what I say, or write, as the case may be.” He smirks faintly at that final remark.

I blink, looking down. He sighs softly. Then he rubs his thumb against my cheek, before pulling my head to rest against his chest, lying back, and holding me in his arms. I curl into his body, resting my eyes. He trails his fingers from my face, down my neck to my shoulder, rubbing gently. I smile a little.

I hear Matt inhale deeply, then let his breath out in what sounds like a sigh of contentment. Then he nuzzles into my hair, breathing steadily. I close my eyes, allowing myself to relax in his arms, drifting in a semi-conscious state, my breaths slowing.

Matt holds me close, propping his chin atop my head. We remain like that for awhile, not moving, not thinking just resting in each other’s presence.

After awhile, I finish scribbling in my journal; and, after handing it to Matt so he can read it, I curl up against his chest and allow myself to drift off.

* * * * *

Master, you think I’m beautiful? You’d be the first to ever tell me that in any form or manner. Most men put me down all the time...I was only ever there for them to use. To dump their seed into my body, onto my body. They didn’t give two hoots about the way I looked. As long as I obeyed them in every which way, they were satisfied. Definitely satisfied.

No. I’m ugly. A waste of human flesh. Or so some of them told me. You have to understand why I’m hesitant to accept your evaluation of me. Men have lied to me to get me to do their every fancy. They wanted a blow job? They would tell me I was lucky I got to blow them because I was an ugly slut and no gentleman would want me to touch their cocks with my whore mouth. That hurt...it all hurt, but I got used to it.

I never thought my life would get any better you know? You asked about Giovanni? I’d been with him for about two years when you bought me. He wasn’t too bad, really. He was just fat...and his breath stank...he was sleazy more than anything else. He never hurt me, not like other men who had me. He, Giovanni, represented the best of my situation at the time.

Of course, because of the type of person he was, I began acting up. With my other masters I never dared truly to play up because I was so damned scared that they’d do me some serious damage. But, with G...I felt I could get away with a lot of things. And, I guess that’s why, when you showed up, he told you I was ‘damaged goods’. Because, I wasn’t the obedient little slave I should’ve been. That’s why he wanted to get rid of me too.

I know I’m not all that submissive even now. I just don’t think I’m the type. But, somehow you make me want to try harder to be obedient. The rules help to an extent. They’re straightforward, not confusing. They give me something to base my behaviour on. My other masters ruled me by making me fear them. You...rule my...heart. There, I put it in words.

I shouldn’t be admitting this and whether you make some comment or not...I don’t know. But, I...I’ve fallen for you, Master...

Oh...God. I can’t believe I just wrote that...

But, I need to be honest, don’t I? You hate dishonesty, I know that. But, I need to tell you this. If. If you feel you need to put me in my place...tell me I can’t fall for you, whatever...I understand. I’m the slave. You’re the master, what you say, goes. Always.

Anyway. I was wondering something, Master. Why did you buy me? I mean, it takes all sorts to own a slave, but that doesn’t explain why you suddenly decided buying me was a good idea. You don’t seem the type to just go and buy a slave...or even need one?

You don’t have to answer that question, by the way. It’s none of my business, right? You make decisions for yourself that I have no right knowing the why of. But, I can’t help being curious.

All my other masters had had slaves before me and all for the same reason. Sex. But, we’ve hardly slept together...or at least if we do you’ve always made sure I get something out of it as well...and not just as an afterthought. And, not to humiliate me...or make me feel like a slut.

I don’t think sex is the reason you bought me though. It’s something more than that. It can’t be because of the way I look. Yes, I know...we’re back to that. You think I’m beautiful. But, I don’t know about that...I doubt that it’s the reason you decided to fork over some money to some fat sleazebag to get me away from him, and make me your slave. No, that can’t possibly be the reason. It has to be something else.

I guess I could speculate until I was blue in the face, only way I’d ever know is if you decide I deserve an answer. I’m not expecting one, though.

You can respond, or not, as you like to this message...I don’t mind, Master. Whatever you say is enough for me.

Just...know that I...I think I love you, Master...

Yeah... that’s me done.

Notes