Personal Journal Entry – Dr. Cashel Gregory
When everything is going wrong, they taught me, take it back to basics, go back to the solid ground on which you stand, and check it out from there. So that’s what I have always done because I am nothing if not obedient.
Journaling was a mandatory part of our training, and I never really stopped. Sometimes there are just phrases or sentences in my moleskin notebooks, and sometimes there was more. In recent years there has been a lot more.
It helped back in college when I was getting to grips with my empathy and shyness and struggling with expressing myself to my supervisors, and I hope it will help now when I can’t tell anyone my biggest problem.
And as I’m honest here, I want to record what happened, because maybe this will be the only thing I have in years to come, to remember it by, to remember him by, or to make sense of how monumentally fucked up I am.
So here goes.
I remember when I met him, back when he was a contract Venditor, a Dom in the field, spanking asses and roping rich guys and fucking the well-healed in their Hampton Estates.
I was a mere squint of 17, a prodigy tapped by the Delphic Agency as future management potential. I was set to work with Dr. Ash Gannon and Dr. Brio Hywel-Bennet, the founders of ManMindMaps, who were developing a system that mapped all the kinks of human sexuality – heady stuff, I can tell you.
I was running the first algorithm trials with Brio – who was very flighty back then – and Ash, and he came in for one of the first psych evals, and he blew straight off the carefully constructed charts. High-end Dominant, kinks across the board, strong homosexual identity – hardly surprising as he came out of what was left of the leather scene - but no markers for pure sadism.
I remember Brio looked up from the chart and turned to me in outrage – “He just blew the bloody base line up!” he said, “I don’t know whether to hit him or beg him to fuck me!”
I heard laughter, and there he was, leaning against the door. Six foot four of muscle, wearing leather jeans and boots you could see your face in. His face was rugged, like something carved from stone, and his dark hair was shot through with auburn highlights. “I really wouldn’t advise punching me, little sub, I’d have to take your pants down and punish you right here,” he said.
I had to turn away to hide my blush and the semi that instantly made my pants tight.
Brio looked like he’d seen the second coming – or given Brio’s tastes, maybe the fourth of fifth coming.
And Ash, well Ash, stood up and did the brother Dominant thing and slung his arm around the guy’s shoulders and led him away. “I think we’ll have Cash do all your follow up’s,” he said, “Because I don’t think we can trust Brio to be in the same room as you!”
Brio made grabby hands, and I wanted to slap him.
Because that guy, he was everything my stupid little submissive wanted and could never have.
And I got to spend the rest of my career watching him.
I was there when he fucked up, and we had to pull him from contract work. I was there when we saved him and made him Head of Training. I was there for him, year after year, through counseling and friendship and all the other stuff.
And I was there when yesterday he turned around and said he wanted to go back to contract work and no, that’s too much, I can’t watch that. Anything but that. I have been a martyr to the cause of Tay since day one, but no, I can’t do that.