Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any media franchise. No copyright infringement is intended.

I would love to thank the wonderful women who help me. If it wasn't for them, I wouldn't know what to do with myself. But remember, we are not perfect and even though six eyes are better than two, we are human and make mistakes. So, thanks to my beta(s) on this chapter: dannibags, piesmom

I plan to update this story once a month at the moment. I can't give you a specific day yet, but I will be sure to include that in the notes if that changes. I'm working on three stories at once, and I think a schedule would be the best idea. So, please bear with me here. If I am able to update sooner, I will, but I didn't want to say every week and then something happen and I couldn't make it.

Warning: If you are interested in getting involved in the lifestyle, please take care and do research. Don't jump in the middle of the lifestyle after reading stories. Find a mentor in your area, find out about munches in your area, get out and get involved before you begin to play. Always be safe, sane, and consensual.

Chapter 5

Why Did It Have To Be You?


I walked away from the studio with more questions than answers. One of those being, why did Carlisle have those pictures? I needed to know what was going on and knew I would have to come clean and ask him about them. But, I wanted to do a little research first.

I hadn't unpacked my laptop yet, which I found odd because that thing was usually glued to my hip in Chicago. But since Heidi and I broke up, I tried to find reasons to not go on Facebook. I even removed the app from my iPhone so I wouldn't be tempted to look her up to see what she was doing. Everything about the breakup had hurt, and I knew in order to get over it, I would have to remove myself from there too. I had been successful thus far in not going to her account.

I pulled onto a gravel road on the outskirts of Seattle, hoping to get a chance to do some research before I reached Carlisle and Esme's house. I pulled out my iPhone and looked up everything there was to know about BDSM, and some of the aspects completely shocked me. I sat so long in my car that I had to get out and piss before I headed to the house.

I put my iPhone back into my pocket and got out of the car. I wasn't about to piss on the side of the road. So, I locked everything up and ventured into the woods to find somewhere a little more secluded to relieve myself. I stopped when I thought I was out of sight and began to urinate on the tree in front of me, but what really caught my attention was the sun shining through the shadowed forest.

I quickly finished up, wanting to know what opening allowed the sun to shine in and walked to it. I was mesmerized by the textures and the colors as I walked, but what shocked me the most was when the forest opened up into a clearing. It was absolutely beautiful. I felt so at home in this spot that I decided to take a seat as I searched through more websites.

I read so much information that my eyes went cross. I never knew that so many things went into being or becoming a Master/Mistress. And, to be quite honest, some of the things turned me on greatly. If it wasn't for the fact that I was still sitting outside, I might have been inclined to pleasure myself here, but I was afraid that someone would walk up on me at any minute. I did, however, lie back in the grass and soak up the warmth from the sun. Allowing it to infiltrate every fiber of my being, and it slowly lulled me to sleep.


I awoke some hours later to a ringing phone and an ant crawling across my face. I quickly wiped him off and answered my phone.

"Edward? Where are you?" Esme asked.

"About a mile or so down the road. I will be home shortly," I replied, ending the conversation with Esme. She had already stepped into the role of mother very quickly, even though I didn't need one. She would get concerned if I didn't show up for dinner, and I tried to humor her. Carlisle and Esme had never had children, and I figured that with me being younger than her, the mothering nature took over whenever I was around. Honestly, it felt good for someone to worry about me for once; my parents never did.

After stretching, I pulled my body from the grass and hiked back out to my car. I was lucky that someone didn't come along and break into her. I quickly hopped in and pulled out, heading toward the house. I didn't mind staying with Esme and Carlisle, but I would soon have to find my own place to live. I hoped things worked out with Carlisle and Esme's friend, and she allowed me to move into her house.

Finally, pulling into the driveway, I noticed that Carlisle was already home and wondered if he would be able to talk. The sooner I cleared my conscience, the better. I was walking towards the door when Carlisle rushed out.

"Emergency?" I asked, as he ran passed.

"Yeah, don't know when I will be back," he yelled, before he climbed into his car and flew out of the driveway. There went my chances of talking to Carlisle.

Several days passed before I actually had a chance to talk to Carlisle about the pictures.

I had gotten the job as a Child Support Caseworker and had been going through training. Carlisle's emergency made him stay at the hospital for a seventy-two hour shift. So, it wasn't until now that I was going to finally have my chance to tell him about the pictures.

Carlisle and Esme's friend was due at the house around seven, and I had to talk to him before she arrived. I didn't want her to overhear our conversation because I didn't know if Carlisle was involved or not.

I decided I would run while waiting for Carlisle to wake up. As I walked into the house, I smelled the coffee and knew it wouldn't be long before his presence was known.

"Carlisle been down yet?" I asked Esme, as I poured my own cup.

"No, not yet. But once he smells this, it won't be long," she said smiling, serving up his mug of coffee.

"Good morning," Carlisle said behind us.

"Good morning, darling! How did you sleep?" Esme asked, handing him his cup of Joe.

"Good," he replied, taking the first sips of his coffee.

He reached for the paper and headed toward the dining room table. That was Carlisle's typical morning ritual. I knew I would have to wait until he asked for another cup before I brought up anything. Carlisle wasn't exactly a morning person and with him having pulled a seventy-two hour stint, his mood would be a little off until that second cup.

I walked up to my room and headed toward the shower. I figured that would give Carlisle enough time to wake up and be ready for any discussions.

Once my shower was done, I headed back down to the dining room where Carlisle was still sitting, but this time, his plate was empty.

"Do you have a moment?" I asked, approaching the table.

"Sure," he said, putting his paper down and removing his reading glasses.

"What do you know about the BDSM community here in Seattle?" I asked, hoping his face would give something away, but nothing changed.

"A little, why do you ask?" he asked, leaning back in his chair.

"I want you to know that I wasn't going through your things, but the other day I found some pictures in your office," I admitted.

"I have several pictures in my office. You are going to have to be more specific, Edward."

"These pictures," I said, pulling the envelope from behind my back laying them on the table in front of him.

Carlisle reached over grabbing the envelope and opened them, pulling out the pictures I had printed off. He thumbed through them and then laid them down on the table.

"I accidently knocked over something and those pictures fell out," I said, not wanting him to think I had been going through his things.

"What do you want to know about these pictures?" he asked, motioning to them.

"Do you know these women?" I asked.

"Yes," he answered, but didn't give me anything else.

"Are you investigating a sex ring or an abuse situation?"

"No, what makes you think that?" he asked, with his hands resting on the table leaning forward.

"Because these women are being abused, and I assumed maybe they had come through your emergency room," I stated.

I was overstepping my bounds by asking him to give out potentially confidential information, but I had to know.

"I am not, but even if I was, I can't give that information to you. We do have caseworkers at the hospital," he stated.

"I am aware, but I didn't know what to think when I saw these pictures," I said defeated. I wasn't getting anywhere, and he wasn't giving me anything to go on.

"Rest assured these women have not been abused," he said, picking up my pictures and getting up from his chair. He was about to leave the dining room.

"I'm not done," I said rather rudely.

"For now you are. My suggestion … do some research," he said, leaving the dining room.

I sat there for a moment totally shocked. He had cut me off without listening to anymore of my questions. Maybe Mistress Isa was right; maybe they weren't being abused, and I needed to find out more information.

I finally pulled myself from the table and headed toward my room. I flopped down on the bed and pulled out my iPhone. I scrolled through the information I had already read through, but this time, I really looked.

It seemed that the whole thing was about control, and the bottom or submissive would allow the top or dominant to have control in these kinds of situations. After reading this, it seemed that the bottom or submissive was the one who controlled the whole situation. At any time, they could safe word and end the whole interaction, which then would blow my theory out of the water. Those women weren't being abuse if they could safe word to end all play, but why would they allow someone to do those things to them?

I was wrong, once again on another note, when I read that sex was not essential to play. Everyone that played all adopted the motto of safe, sane, and consensual, which came back to when Mistress Isa was telling me it was a consensual shoot. Everyone knew what was going to happen and had agreed to those terms. I was the biggest tool in the shed. I had looked and automatically assumed everything to be abuse and violence. I needed to apologize to Mistress Isa.

I scrolled through a couple of more aspects and started reading the words the acronym stood for, and when bondage appeared, that was one thing I wasn't too upset about. I thought it was rather erotic to see women bound or the thoughts of being bound while a woman did what she wanted to me; it sounded highly interesting. Maybe I could talk Mistress Isa into teaching me a thing or two about what it's like. I wonder if she would since I showed my ass in the middle of her studio.

The only thing that truly bothered me about the whole situation was the psychological effects. I mean, when you have someone who punishes you and then demands you to act a certain way, wasn't that taking away your free will? I don't know if I could handle someone telling me what to do or controlling every aspect of my life. I was so used to controlling my life. When my father would try to butt in and control it for me, I didn't like it. So, how would that affect them mentally?

During my psychology class, we had learned about different circumstances of control like Stockholm syndrome, battered wife syndrome, or a situation where the patient had been brainwashed. There were aspects of this lifestyle that had those elements. Now, this was something I needed to discuss with Carlisle. Were those women in the photos brainwashed into doing those things for the camera? Would they want to do this normally?

I shut my iPhone down because all this information was giving me a headache. I needed to talk to Carlisle to see his thoughts on the how mental illness or different syndromes that I knew could cause problems within the lifestyle.

I rested my head against the pillow, and before long, drifted off into a deep sleep.

"Edward," she called to me.

"Yes, ma'am," I replied, kneeling in front of her.

"You've been a bad boy this week, haven't you?" she asked, tapping her foot.

"Yes, ma'am," I reluctantly replied.

"What is your punishment for being a bad boy?" she asked.

"Ten spankings," I replied, with my head down.

"Assume the position," she demanded.

I stood in front of her and dropped my jeans and boxers to the floor, exposing my ass to her. I leaned over the edge of the couch in front of us.

"You know how I hate to have to punish you, but you made some very bad decisions Edward. When you saw those pictures on Carlisle's desk, you should have put them back where they belong like the good little boy I know you can be. But no, you took things into your own hands and confronted me about them instead," she said.

"I'm sorry, Mistress," I replied.

"You will be once I get done with you," she said, landing the first spanking to my bare ass.

"Thank you, Mistress," I replied.

I did this every lick she gave me. Once she had finished the five warm-ups, she then delivered the ten for my bad behavior; my ass was good and sore.

The only downfall of getting punished is, while she was tring to correct my bad behavior, my mind would wander. I tried to focus on the punishment, but I couldn't help but be turned on by her hand hitting my ass.

I woke up ringing wet and with a hard on from hell. Mistress Isa was in my dreams punishing me for going to her at her studio. I leaned back and allowed the thoughts of her to permeate my brain. I ran my hands down my stomach to my cloth covered dick.

I closed my eyes and allowed the dream to play into my fantasies. I could feel her body leaning over my own as she handed out my punishment. Once the spankings were completed, she ran her hands around my hips and headed straight towards my hardened cock.

"My naughty little pet loves his spankings, doesn't he?" she asked, rubbing around my hips, coming in close contact with my now aching member.

"Yes, Mistress. I love it when you spank me," I replied.

"Do you think you've learned your lesson?" she asked, rubbing her hands on my hip bones.

"Yes, Mistress," I replied, getting lost in the feeling of her hands on my body and close to where I wanted her the most.

I slid my shorts and boxers out of my way and reached into the night stand to pull out the lotion. I squeezed a little in my hand and rubbed my hands together, warming the lotion to my liking. I grabbed my cock and stroked it a couple of times before I lost myself in the thoughts of the Mistress Isa.

She ran her hand down my shaft, getting the pre-cum from the tip and using it to lubricate us.

"Someone is already leaking," she purred in my ear. Her body was still behind my own.

"I need you, Mistress," I begged, hoping she would allow me to cum.

"I can see that, my pet. How bad do you want me?" she asked, stroking my member.

"Badly," I groaned, as she circled the head with her fingers.

She didn't ease up either and made a circle with her index finger and thumb, making it tight as she used those fingers to slide down my slick shaft.

I moaned as she did this repeatedly.

"Cum in my hand, pet," she demanded, as she picked up the strokes, causing me to thrust with her movements. Within a matter of minutes, I was coming undone in her hand and feeling like my body was going to give out.

"Such a good little pet," she purred in my ears.

I opened my eyes, ending the fantasy, and feeling completely drained from the orgasm I had. I ripped off my shirt and wiped my hands, but didn't move any further. It was sad to think, but that was the best orgasm I had ever had, and it was all thanks to being controlled by Mistress Isa.


I showered again after taking liberties with myself and decided to see if Carlisle would talk to me about the community again. I walked straight to his office, but it was locked, and I wasn't for sure if he was even there. It was getting closer to when their friend should arrive.

I walked downstairs and found him, once again, at the dining table. I could smell the aromas coming from the kitchen and knew Esme was cooking dinner.

"So, did you do any research?" he asked, as I walked in.

"Yes," I replied, pulling out the chair closest to him.

"What did you learn?" he asked.

"Well, there are situations where the acts can be consensual. Usually, people in these types of relationships have some kind of contract or agreement. The submissive or bottoms have safe words that stop the play, if they do not feel like moving on. In all honesty, they are the ones with the power, not the dominant or top," I said, looking over at Carlisle.

"So, far so good; continue," he said, motioning me to continue on with my thoughts.

"There is a good chance I have misjudged the picture thing. They could have depicted some type of violence, but there is a good chance they did not."

"What else?" he asked.

I was puzzled as to what he wanted me to answer with. He sighed when I didn't answer.

"The main thing you should have learned is not to make judgments until you have the facts straight," he said, narrowing his eyes at me.

"I know," I said, hanging my head.

"You do know that sometimes the lifestyle is not about sex at all right?" he asked.

"I read that, but why does everyone associated it with that?" I asked.

"Personally, I think it's because we have learned about BDSM from that stand point, and the majority of people just assume it to mean sex. However, it's not always about that. You can gain sexual gratification from it, but it doesn't have to be. I know people who visit a Dominatrix just to allow someone to control an hour of their lives, but it's never about an orgasm.

"There are a lot of misconceptions about the lifestyle. Some you have probably considered, but I want to put your mind at ease. One is that the dominant is brainwashing or manipulating his or her submissive into doing something they don't want to or shouldn't. This is why when you come into this lifestyle, you do research, go to play parties or munches to see if this is something you are interested in. There are lists of limits that Doms and Subs fill out when they decide to play together. A lot of preparation is taken beforehand."

"But, what if their lists don't match?" I asked.

"Then they don't play together. It's simple. If you like peanut butter and I don't, I highly doubt I would be willing to take a bite of your peanut butter sandwich. Do you understand that?" he asked.

"Yeah, what are the other misconceptions?" I asked, curiously to see if he answered the other questions I had running around in my head.

"It's not all about pain," he stated.

"Is it?" I asked.

"No, it's like sex. It doesn't have to be there. There are some who like it and some who don't," he shrugged like it really mattered.

"What else?" I asked because so far he was hitting everything I wanted to know about.

"That there isn't a difference between vanilla sex and BDSM sex. There isn't really a difference because sex is intertwined into it sometimes. So, it's not really a vanilla situation. The definitions of intercourse do not change just because someone is tied up. Some people think if one practices that they are avoiding intimacy, but it exists there too."

That's an interesting way to put it. Plus, it wasn't like Heidi and I had never played those games, and we considered ourselves normal or vanilla.

"Some think that people in the lifestyle have all been abused as children and that is why they find themselves there, but that's not always the case. Then there is the misconception that everyone who is involved in the lifestyle has a tendency to go to the extremes. That it's practices can be addictive and can cause self-destruction, but that can also be disproved, and it happens outside the lifestyle as well."

"Isn't it a mental illness?" I asked.

I heard footsteps and looked up and about fell out of my chair. It was Mistress Isa, standing there holding a bowl of food.

"You," she seethed.

"You allow this trash into your house?" she asked, looking directly at Carlisle.

"Isabella," he scolded.

"You will respect me in my own house."

"Yeah, fuck that … this little twerp …" she pointed at me "… rifled through your things, finding private pictures, and then came to my studio to confront me. I have to respect you, but he doesn't like our kind," she seethed.

"I will take care of him, but you need to step out and calm down, before I ask you to leave," Carlisle stated.

She set the food down on the table and stormed out of the house.

"You went to see her?" Carlisle asked, looking over at me.

"Yes," I replied, hanging my head.

"Great!" he replied, as he got out of his chair.

Esme stood there shocked, looking around the room.

"Let me guess that was Bella," I said, knowing how this was going to play out.

"Yes, and you have some explaining to do," she said, sitting beside me.

I told her about finding the pictures and the business card, and how I had went to Mistress Isa's studio. I didn't tell her everything I said, but I did tell her that Mistress Isa and I had words, a rather heated exchange of words.

"Oh Edward," she sighed.

"I need to apologize to her and let her know that I am sorry, that I didn't understand," I said, trying to let Esme know that I had acted foolishly about the pictures.

"Yeah, well that's the thing with Bella, Edward. She's not going to forgive you so easily. She's not going to allow you to move in either. Once you are on her shit list, you never come off."

"I have to try something," I said, almost defeated.

"You are going to apologize, that is a given, but she might not ever want to be around you," she said.

"Bella doesn't trust anyone and doesn't allow anyone into her little bubble willingly. She watches people, learns how they behave, and when she is satisfied that they can be trusted, she allows them in. But with you going to her studio and calling her out, she isn't going to give you the time you will need to earn her trust. Eat your dinner, and when Carlisle comes back, we will discuss your actions," she said, serving me a plate of food. I felt like a little kid in that moment, even though I was twenty-four years old.

I sat and ate my dinner just like Esme wanted. We ate in silence until Carlisle walked in the dining room, running his hands through his hair. A trait all of us Cullen men had in common during a stressful situation.

"What possessed you to go visit her?" he asked, when he sat down at the table.

I told him everything I had told Esme, and how I thought the women in the pictures were being abuse, and how I wanted to find out if they needed help getting out of their situations.

"Edward ..." he sighed "... you are going to have to learn to take a step back sometimes and not go into everything with guns blazing."

"But, I thought I was doing the right thing at the time," I said, defeated.

"I understand that. Really I do, but you have to look, listen, and learn. Sometimes you can gain more knowledge from doing those things instead of running your mouth. It only makes you look stupid, son," he said.

"Look, I'm not trying to tell you what to do, but there isn't anything going on that needs you to play hero. Those women would be upset if they found out you knew this information about them, and in fact, you have placed their jobs in jeopardy just by knowing. They have no guarantee you won't go to their workplaces and tell their employers about things they enjoy outside of work. And, don't give me any bull shit that you won't because you already proved that you act before you think."

"You have also jeopardized Bella's career by making waves for her. She doesn't trust you," Carlisle said.

"Why did you have the pictures to begin with? And, what did she mean when she said 'our kind'?" I asked.

"Esme, Edward and I are going to my office. I will call when I am done eating," he said, picking up his plate.

I stood and followed him to his office.

"Sit," he said, motioning to the chair in front of his desk.

"Your father's not going to like this," he sighed, as he sat down in his chair.

I sat there watching him eat, trying to give him time. I looked around the office and noticed things I hadn't before. I noticed the different pictures, and when you really looked at them, you could see the elements of the lifestyle depicted in them things I hadn't noticed before.

"Ask me?" he said, wiping spaghetti sauce from his chin.

"Are you involved?" I asked because at this point there wasn't any doubt in my mind.

"Yes," he said, looking at me.

"Is Esme involved?" I asked.

"Yes," he said, still looking at me, but not giving me anything else to go on.

"How long?" I asked.

"Before you were born," he said, pushing his plate to the side.

"This is why Dad doesn't like you, isn't it?" I asked, finally learning the family secret.

"Yes …" he paused and I hoped he would tell me more "... there's more than you are aware of, and a lot of the reason is because he too made judgments before learning the real truth."

Carlisle launched into his tale of what actually happened between him and my father. By the end of his story, I was disgusted at my father's actions. To think he would sit back and let people beat up his own brother just because he didn't like his way of life was appalling. How could anyone do something like that? Especially to family, I could never be that damn despicable. I could see the hurt in Carlisle's eyes as he told me, and I knew that I had to make my father see that it wasn't a bad situation, just a personal preference. But, I had to find these things out for myself before I could convince my father.

I left Carlisle's office, determined to learn more about the lifestyle, and if research was something I had to do, then I would. When I finally returned to my room, I pulled out my iPhone and looked for the community information in our area. I wanted to see what happens first hand, and from the research I had done earlier, it suggested going to clubs that specialize in that kind of entertainment. So, within a matter of minutes, I knew my next step.

A/N: Okay … we have seen Edward researching all the things we need to know about the community or lifestyle. And, we learned about his conversation with Carlisle. Now we need to find out how Edward finds himself being Bella's submissive. Do you think she should forgive him? Or, has Edward been a bad boy and deserves his just punishment?