The Aviators

It’s been a few days since I wrote that little message in my journal, and something’s changed between Matt and me. I wouldn’t say it’s bad, or good. More like Switzerland. Hah, if you don’t get that, then I have to ask you, were you under a rock your whole life? I mean, I’m a slave and even I know that Switzerland is neutral territory. Anyway, Matt’s just doing what he usually does...at least on the surface. The guys have been in and out, I’ve even hung out with Michelle again. But, there’s just something between us that wasn’t there before.

There’s this...tension...and I have to admit, it worries me a little. I’ve been extra vigilant, y’know? Rule number three – pay attention. But, I can’t seem to pin down what he’s thinking or feeling. He’s like a closed book.

He did something this morning that he hasn’t for awhile, though. He lost his cool with me, but there was no yelling or anything like that. He just shut me out. Not physically, I mean he’s actually sitting right next to me as I’m telling you this. We’re in the living room; he’s watching some game on the television. I’m writing in my journal, again. He hasn’t really acknowledged me all morning. I mean, he’s still gentle with me. Y’know? But, it seems impersonal, almost, as if he’s kind of detached himself.

I don’t know. I don’t know how to go back to the way it was. I mean, it’s not like a huge change or anything, just a subtle shifting of emotions. And, I don’t even know whether it’s to do with what I wrote, or just a coincidence. I mean maybe he’s just in an off mood or something. But, usually if that’s the case, he’d be complaining and groaning, and getting me to do every little thing he can possibly think of. And then he’d fall asleep on the couch and snore away like a runaway motor. Then he’d wake up and be all dimpled smiles, and cheery words.

But, he hasn’t even cracked a smile over the past few days. I think the guys even noticed it. Jimmy made some comment like he always does, and Matt didn’t say anything, when he usually, at least, calls the drummer a ‘jerk’ or a ‘dick’. All out of love, of course.

I hope it wasn’t what I wrote, because if that’s the case...then...hell...awkward city. I can stand it if he tells me that he doesn’t feel the same, or whatever...but this whole not acknowledging me business is getting to me. I’m hanging out on a limb, just wondering.

“Val.”

I jump slightly. Matt’s actually looking at me. I blink at him, meeting his guarded expression.

“Yes, Master?” I’m extra careful to address him properly. His lips twist slightly as he drapes an arm over the back of the sofa. Shifting uncomfortably on my seat, I wait for a response.

He smears a hand over his jaw, pressing his lips together. His brow furrows, and I can see thoughts passing in his mind. I continue to wait, knowing not to push.

Matt breathes out harshly and opens his mouth, speaking in a low voice, “Your message. In your journal. You want to explain to me what that was about?”

I bite my lip and look down, then back up at him. “I...well...I mean...I thought it was clear, Master?”

Matt lifts an eyebrow. “You tell me, Valary.”

I shift beneath his cool stare. “I...well...” My cheeks feel flushed. I hate that he’s putting me on the spot now, considering his behaviour toward me the last few days.

“Valary, talk to me.”

I swallow hard, clasping my hands together in my lap. I look anywhere but at him. Matt groans softly.

“Valary, talk to me. I can’t read your mind.”

“I know, Master...I just...” I peek up at him. He meets my eyes.

“Look, you obviously meant for me to read it. I just want to understand.” He takes his bottom lip between his teeth, pausing for a moment. Before he can continue, though, the sound of the door chimes echoes in the front entrance. I wonder who it could be; the guys didn’t say they were coming over today.

Matt grimaces, standing to his feet. He looks down at me, expression unusually stern, focused.

“Stay here, ‘kay? We’ll finish this conversation.”

I nod obediently. He turns on his heel and walks out to answer the door. I sit and wait, feeling a little anxious. On the one hand I am hoping that it’s nobody important and that Matt will be able to come back so we can finish this discussion and move on. On the other, I’m hoping that it will be someone who can distract Matt from the whole issue because, in truth, I’m scared of his reaction to my written declaration of my feelings for him.

After several moments, I hear Matt’s voice and that of another man rumbling from the front door. Their words aren’t clear, but they become evident as I hear their footsteps approaching the living room door. Obviously, it wasn’t just some random salesmen or doorknocker.

The guy is speaking to Matt in a low voice.

“So, how long has it been now?” I recognise the voice. It’s that guy who called from the Guild. A shiver runs through my body and I huddle into the couch, wrapping my arms around my knees. I’ve never even met the man, and he scares me. Just the tone, and quality, of his voice makes me think of a man who could easily cause me harm.

“I don’t count. A few months, maybe more?” Matt’s response is wary.

“You don’t count?” A hint of incredulity creeps into the guy’s voice.

“No. Is it even important?” There’s tension in Matt’s voice; he’s not happy about the guy’s probing.

There’s a heavy pause, then the man says, as they stop just outside the living room, “Yes, actually it’s very important. Because, what usually happens at around the two month mark, someone from the Guild is supposed to come and assess the situation, make sure everything is up to standard.”

“Up to standard.” Matt repeats the guy slowly, and then adds, gruffly, “What the hell does that mean?”

“There are rules and guidelines that one must follow when owning a slave, Mr Sanders. If those aren’t followed one is at risk of having their slave taken away.” The man’s tone is grim.

I tremble at his words and peek toward the doorway. Matt walks in, brow furrowed even more than usual. The man follows him into the living room. I stare up towards him, taking in his appearance. He’s dressed in a suit, which seems a little out of place considering how casually Matt and I are dressed. But, then this is Huntington, you get all sorts of people living here. His eyes narrow on me; they’re a stark grey, almost steel in essence. I lower my eyes, shivering.

He chuckles low. “Well, she seems to know her place.”

Matt walks around to stand behind the sofa; I see his hands grip the back of the chair, his knuckles whitening. He’s pissed, and I can feel it. I glance up at him. His face is drawn taut, his jaw clenching, white lines appearing on either side of his nose. I look to the man.

He glares at me. “Don’t look at me.”

I drop my eyes.

Matt growls. “Don’t tell her what to do.”

More chuckling, his tone is dark, though. “Matthew Sanders, you may be her Master, but as a Guild representative it is my right, and responsibility, to ensure she behaves as she should.”

A tremor runs the length of my spine. The man approaches the sofa, positioning his body directly in front of me. I can see the pinstripes on his pants, clearly, a dark stain on his left pants leg. I lower my eyes even more. After several seconds pass, he grips my chin and tilts my face to his. I am careful not to look into his eyes, keeping mine directed at the point of his chin.

He clucks his tongue lightly, before releasing me and stepping away. He looks to Matt, I watch from the corners of my lowered gaze.

“Tell me, how obedient has she been?”

Matt’s jaw tightens; and I know why. My behaviour hasn’t ever really been an issue, but I know by Guild standards Matt has been lax. Of course, he doesn’t actually know this, because Giovanni never told him anything of the rules and guidelines. I wait to hear his answer.

“You say there are rules and guidelines, but I don’t know anything about them. No one told me. So, by what standards are we basing Val’s behaviour?” Matt’s words are clipped, strained.

The man smiles faintly before answering, “Instant and unquestioning obedience is the key. All masters are to expect nothing less. Even allowing the tiniest slip is a breach of standards.” I glance up and see him pin Matt with a hard look.

Matt meets his stare evenly. “And if I allow her some leeway?”

The man shakes his head. “Not acceptable. Any slip, and she must be punished.”

I swallow hard at his statement and glance up at Matt. He looks down at me, lips pressing together as before. The man sees our shared look.

“So, we come back to my question.”

Matt sighs, leaning his weight against the back of the sofa. His biceps flex, the muscles in his forearms tighten in hard knots. He avoids looking at me, at him, just staring at the wall. I observe him in silence nervous as to how he’ll answer.

He takes a deep breath, then speaks, slowly, “Since I didn’t know about the guidelines, you can hardly fault me.”

“So, not as obedient as she should?”

Matt stiffens, his eyes darkening, gaze shifting to the other man. “Never said that.”

The man snorts. “No, but that’s the implication.”

Matt gives a tight nod. I tremble. The implication can’t mean anything good for me. I can tell just by the look on the man’s face that this is not acceptable. I bite my lip and look at Matt. He rakes long fingers through his hair.

“So. Exactly what does that mean?” He glowers.

I realise all of a sudden that I don’t know his name. Perhaps it’s better that way, though? Nameless, he can’t be as much of a threat. Still, I am wary of him, as is natural.

He casts a cold look at me then back at Matt.

“Well. You are correct in saying that you can’t be held accountable for something you didn’t know. But, starting from today, I will have to ensure that you will begin to take your position seriously. She is your slave, and she should be treated as such.” He opens a briefcase that I only just notice propped at his feet. Removing several sheafs of paper, and holding them out to Matt, he continues. “These are a copy of the guidelines and suggestions as to what can be done to establish her submission. There’s also a contact list if you should need assistance with anything.”

Matt takes the proffered pages without looking at them, keeping his stony glare fixed on the Guild rep. “Anything else?”

The man straightens, snapping his case close, tucking it beneath his arm. “If you’ve written up some rules, make sure they align with the Guild guidelines, any that don’t, change them or get rid of them.” He glances at his wrist, a gold watch rests there. “I’ll return in a week to see where you’re at.” He looks at me then nods to Matt. “Good day. I’ll see myself out.” With that, he exits the room, leaving Matt and I alone to ponder the abruptness of his coming, and going.

I blink rapidly as I swing my legs around and plant my feet on the floor. Matt moves way from the sofa and goes to stand by the window, staring out, face hard. Rubbing at my knees, I try to think of something to say.

Matt speaks first though, his voice deceptively calm. “Has that happened before?”

I bite my lip, trying to remember if it ever has, deciding that I can’t and shaking my head slightly. “Not to me, Master. But, I’ve heard stories. They say it’s always real quick...they go in, say what they have to say, then leave.”

Matt turns his head slightly to look at me. “But, not to you?”

I shake my head. “Maybe they do it randomly, Master. I don’t know. Maybe they do it when they think something’s gone wrong.”

Matt rubs his thumb along his bottom lip then joins me on the couch. He reaches out, taking hold of my right hand, gently rubbing his thumb over the back of it. I fix my eyes on our joined hands. He sighs deeply; then he rustles the pages the man gave him. I give them a cursory glance, then away to the floor.

Matt rumbles in his chest. “These guidelines. Do you know what they are?”

I shake my head. “No. I’ve never been shown them.” I peek up at him. His expression is still close. I wonder what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. He releases my hand and smooths his palm over the pages, it rustles at his touch. Then he shakes them slightly resting them on his lap.

“Well, we’d better look them over, then.”

For some reason that idea scares me. Shifting away a little and shaking my head, I murmur a little apprehensively, “You can look at them...I’d...rather not.”

Matt frowns at me. “Val. You need to see them.” He takes my hand again, running his thumb over my knuckles. “We both need to know what they are, so we don’t have any problems.”

Tucking my legs beneath my bottom, I curl next to him, peeking nervously at the pages. Matt smiles faintly at me, barely even a flicker of his lips, before looking down at the page and reading out loud.

“The Guild of Dominants and Submissives has, for the purpose of maintaining strict standards of procedure and protocol, provided these guidelines for all who find themselves’ living as a Master or slave. To enable smooth running of a household, these guidelines are to be strictly adhered to. Any lapse in adherence to these guidelines is a serious breach of standards.” Matt pauses from reading, lips twisting in a sour expression, like he’s tasted a lemon. He continues though, making no comment as yet.

“Each guideline is lain out to maximise ease of interpretation, and one should make absolutely certain one is familiar with each one, perfectly.” Matt shakes his head and glances at me. “Perfectly? What do they think we are? Robots?”

I shrug, keeping my eyes on the page. He sighs, reaching up to brush a lock of hair from my face before continuing his reading.

“The most important point that needs to be made, and which sets the standard for the rest of the guidelines is this: The Master controls everything. His word is final in every situation and hence the only word that the slave should adhere to.” Matt snorts slightly. “Well, it’s not like we argue with that, right?” He eyes me.

I shake my head, “No, Master.”

He returns his eyes to the document, scans the rest of the front page, and then flips over to the next. For a long moment he stares at the print. I look also, taking in the rules written there. They’re written in terse language detailing in ruthless prose exactly how a slave should behave and what a Master should do to enforce such behaviour.

Matt continues to read, not out loud anymore, though. Then, gritting his teeth, he grinds out roughly, a hint of disgust in his voice, “I don’t want to read this bullshit, seriously.” He tosses the pages on the coffee table.

I stare at them then back up at his face. “That guy will be back next week...”

“Fuck that,” Matt growls, standing up. “He can’t do shit.” He pauses, grimacing, looking down at me. “Right?”

I shrug. “I don’t know, Master. Maybe...” I hesitate before continuing, “Maybe we should read the rules? Just in case...I mean...we could always pretend that we’re following them? Or tell him that we are?” I frown at myself, wondering where I just got the gumption to suggest such a thing.

Matt catches my look and smirks. “Yeah? That might be an idea. But, ugh...let’s not do it now. I don’t think I can stomach any more of this shit, to be honest.” He glares at the document as if staring at it will make it disappear.

I nod, not arguing with his sentiment. Not that I’d argue with him at any rate. Regardless of Guild guidelines, whatever they are, I know what I am and as far as I know and have been trained to do so, I will not question Matt in any way. At least not out loud. I still think the sooner we look at them the better we would be. However, Matt is already heading for the living room door, obviously wanting to go do something else.

I sit there watching him. He moves to walk out but then he pauses in the doorway, one hand grasping the frame, before turning to peg me with a look. I bite my lip, tilting my head. He frowns deeply then turns to face me, crossing his arms over his chest.

“What, Master?”

Matt chews at his bottom lip, before answering, “Our discussion got interrupted, didn’t it?”

I nod slowly. He rubs his jaw. “I hadn’t forgotten about it, if you were wondering.”

I shake my head, I hadn’t forgotten either; just the abruptness of the Guild rep’s visit and then focusing on the guidelines had pushed it from my thoughts. “No, Master. Do you want to-?”

He cuts me off, smearing a hand over his face. “Not now. I need to think about all this.” By ‘this’ I know he means the whole Guild thing. He goes on, “Watch TV or something; come to the bedroom in an hour.”

He doesn’t wait for my response, turning on his heel and walking out of the room, leaving me alone. I blink at the spot he was just standing in, wondering again what he’s thinking, what he’s feeling. However, part of me is grateful that he’s postponing our little talk. Maybe in this next hour, I’ll have time to think how to respond to any questions he might have, and also how to answer the one he has already attempted to ask.

Sighing a little, I decide there’s nothing I can do now but to do as he suggests. So, I grab the remote from where he usually leaves it, and flopping back on the couch, getting comfortable, I flick the television on and allow myself to immerse myself in whatever mindless soapie happens to be showing.

Notes