* * * * * 

River started training with Frankie and Ellis straight away, moving into their brownstone. Frankie tells me he's taking to it like a natural, as is Ellis, which makes me smile – I always said Ellis wasn't really a submissive so I won't be surprised if he turns into a switch; maybe not with Frankie, who's about as much of a power top as it's possible to be, but certainly with the trainee submissives. 

It makes me feel better. Ellis is happy, River is happy, Owen seems settled with Amir. I feel a margin of control has come back into my life. I'm still concerned about Gabriel but I suppose three out of four isn't bad. 

Amir and Owen have been spending a lot of time at the club – I have a playroom in my house but no one else is allowed to use it – not even Amir. Hell, I haven't used it for over four months now and am not sure when I ever will again. 

I have a very understanding cleaner – the fact that it's one of the subs from the club who runs his own cleaning business helps – and he goes in to ensure it's clean and dust free, but I haven't even set foot into it for weeks now. I just get images that I don't want to see. 

* * * * * 

We stood in the doorway to our bedroom, Liam's arms twining up my back, hooked into my hair. 

"You need a haircut, Sir," he chuckled, fluffing it up at the back. 

I looked down into his bright blue eyes, swooping down to nuzzle along his sharp cheekbone. 

"And you're a very cheeky young man," I murmur. "

Only because you like it, Sir," he planted a kiss firmly on my mouth and span away to the door of the playroom "maybe you should punish me?" 

"Maybe I should correct you for distracting me when we're supposed to be packing for our trip." 

Liam arched his back, presenting his fat little ass. 

"You can punish me extra hard, because I plan on distracting you a whole lot more." 

I growled, leaping towards him, pressing into his back, nipping into the soft skin of his long neck. 

"How did I end up with someone who loves getting disciplined so much?" 

"Don't pretend you don't love punishing me, Sir, or I might just stop being naughty." 

"Never," I nipped him, reaching up his t-shirt to find his hard little nipple, tweaking that, making him gasp, "I won't allow it, everything about you is flawless." 

I opened the door to the playroom, guiding him into the dimly lit space. 

* * * * * 

I've been avoiding my office lately, only going in for patients, but doing all my other work at home. Not in my home office, even, curled up in my favorite armchair in the den instead – somewhere I'd always said I wouldn't work – I'm meant to be keeping home life and work life separate, but I guess agreeing to informally evaluate the new subs has blurred that line already. 

It's been two months since I agreed to do that, and I've trained three submissives in that time, in the arts of rope, bondage, and spanking, including River, who was faultless, as expected. I'll be going to the club tonight, and I think I'll ask him if he wants to play. He may say no – I know he's turned down plenty of Doms in the several weeks he's been fulfilling the terms of his agreement post training. 

Frankie doesn't care. If anything, the fact that he's almost completely unavailable increases his allure. The only Doms River has played with have been the ones that had a hand in his chosen training methods, but I haven't asked him yet. 

He did his first public show last week, with Dexter, who's into sensation play, and that was something else, watching him get gently teased for an hour on the stage. My mind is caught up with that memory when Amir comes in, Owen trailing behind him. 

Despite Owen being Amir's sub this entire time I haven't seen him that often; Amir plays with him at the club, and when he takes him on dates that's usually where they end up. He's looking good – Amir clearly has him under some kind of exercise regime – even in the simple white tee and black jeans the new tautness of his upper body is clear. 

 "Good evening, Owen, you're looking well." 

He glances at Amir, receiving a nod. 

"Thank you, Master Gray. It's nice to see you." 

"Owen, go up to my room and prepare yourself, we'll be going to the club in forty minutes." 

"Yes Daddy," Owen says quietly and pads up the stairs. 

"I need to thank you, Gray," Amir drops into the couch with an exhalation, "that boy is really fantastic, though I won't pretend he isn't a little exhausting as well," he looks serious for a moment, "But I think that's what I need right now." 

"Is it- are the two of you dating?" 

"No, I don't think so. Not yet, anyway. But I enjoy his company. He really is most unaffected. Although I'm not sure he always appreciates how strict I am with him. I guess I may need to find a happy medium for us." 

"Are you feeling well, then? Coping with things?" 

"I think I am. Of course, I still think of Gavin often, and miss him terribly. But I'm getting to the point where I can do so without it leading to a breakdown. And the distraction of Owen has been excellent for that." 

I don't know how I feel about Owen being a 'distraction' for Amir. But I do feel that Amir is developing stronger feelings, which I'm not surprised by – it would be hard not to for that wide-eyed cutie. And it is good for him. 

* * * * * 

Amir wasn't waiting for us when we landed, though he'd sent a car service to the airport. When we got out into the cool spring air, Liam was jumping up and down with excitement at the fancy black town car that we'd be driving into the city in, squealing at the fact that we had a chauffeur.

We drove through the city, arriving at Amir's Fulham Victorian townhouse as dusk began to fall. He arrived at the same time, neatly pulling into a small space in his Maserati, rushing over to grab our luggage after pulling me into a hug. 

"Gray, it's so good to see you. And this must be Liam? How wonderful to meet you." 

Liam dropped his eyes, but I could see him glancing up in awe at Amir's exotic suavity. "

Greet Master Amir, Liam." 

"Hello Master Amir, I'm excited to meet you." 

He was too. A little too obviously. Though that level of exuberance wasn't entirely unknown from Liam, and I knew he had a thing for British accents. It meant I didn't think too much of it then, although Liam did get the spanking punishment that I assumed he'd been hankering for, later that night. 

I was excited to introduce him to Gav. They weren't all that different, those two, and Gav always had the skill of making people feel welcome, special. He'd taken time off, not to show us around, I could do that well enough, just to spend time for the sake of it, to point out interesting things that only locals knew, to go into pubs and be welcomed like a best friend. He'd always had that affect on people. 

* * * * * 

We had a wonderful few days, seeing the sights, visiting the club that Amir and Gavin were members of. The first weekend there was an anniversary party for Amir and Gavin – for family and friends, so extremely vanilla, but a good time was had by all. I remember being amused by how much advantage Liam was taking of being let off the submissive leash, flirting with Amir and all his hot doctor friends. 

I still disciplined him later for it, but only because he liked it. But maybe, after what happened, that's what led to me being even more anti-punishment, after it was all over. 

* * * * *

It was the following night that it happened. There was meant to be a party at the club – an anniversary party more in keeping with Amir and Gavin's lifestyle. It never happened. Amir and I had gone early, to set up. Amir wanted it to be special, as ever. He really would do anything for Gav. 

Gavin and Liam had been coming later, driving dark, busy streets slick with winter rain. Somehow, Gavin had come off the road, driving faster than he should have been in his powerful car, hit an iron lamppost head on. They told us afterward he'd died on impact. The doctors at the hospital, Amir's friends, hadn't even had chance to work their magic. 

Liam had been lucky. Escaped with barely a scratch. Just one of those turns of fate, where fate chooses sides and makes decisions that leave men fools. 

I just held Liam that night, breathing in his scent, as if terrified fate would realize his mistake and return for him. 

* * * * * 

The funeral was three days later. An appropriately drizzly Tuesday afternoon, like something from a movie, the depressing scene where you feel the pain of the black-clad mourners huddled under matt-black umbrellas, the priest droning words of love about a person they didn't know.

The wake afterward was dank – gray afternoon skies seeping through the lead patterned windows, Amir and Gavin's normally bright and modern home suddenly seeming cold and soulless. Amir kept it together then, that famous 'stiff upper lip'; never making eye contact, only saying the same words to each well-wisher: 'Thank you for coming', 'Holding it together', 'One does what one must', 'It's what Gavin would have wanted'. 

I found them in the kitchen. Most mourners having left, just the closest remaining. Amir having gone to collect more whiskey for a toast, Liam scurrying to help him carry glasses. Naively wondering what was taking so long, I went to find them, find Liam pressed against Amir, pushing him into the counter, hand on the front of his pants, muttering words of love and adoration, claiming they could be together now, Amir's face a mask of horror, frozen in tragedy. I was almost gentle in pulling the sobbing Liam away, in shock myself, but aware I didn't have the luxury to give in to it. 

I sent him away, told him to be gone when I returned to America. He finally saw sense, fear in his face, although I was insulted he ever thought he had a need to be fearful of me, explanations of innocence falling from his lips, the lips that I had trusted more than I had ever trusted any before and, now, possibly more than I'd ever trust any again. 

That night I held Amir, the man who had taught me so much but, more than that, had always been strong for me, allowed and encouraged him to sob into my shoulder, as he finally insisted that it wasn't what Gavin would have wanted, none of it, what Gavin wanted, more than anything, was to live. 

* * * * *