Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68354 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 342(@200wpm)___ 273(@250wpm)___ 228(@300wpm)
I don’t really understand what’s going on. I get what he’s saying, but those things I have welled up inside me are battered down and hidden, like secrets tucked into chests with iron padlocks. I can’t just conjure them up like that. It isn’t that easy.
“I feel your hesitation, Cora. What is it?”
“I… I don’t know how I’m supposed to drag those things up.” I feel a little irritated, but I don’t really get why, so I just let myself speak without trying to censor my thoughts. “I mean… I agreed to be your submissive. I didn’t agree to go to therapy or whatever the fuck.”
He’s kneading my shoulders with his firm, strong hands, plying the taut muscles, and a little bit of my worry dissipates before I can even begin to hold it back.
“Submitting physically is one thing, Cora,” he says. “And mentally is another.”
“Why would I submit mentally to you?” I ask. “Hell, I don’t even know what that means. And I don’t know if I agreed to it.”
“Oh, but you did,” he says, dragging his hands from my shoulders down my back. “When you signed the contract.”
“Where? Was there fine print I missed?” I try to pass it off as a joke, but he isn’t amused, and neither am I.
“You agreed to obey me. I’ve instructed you to bring your anger that’s directed at me to mind. It’s a simple request, but not an easy one. Now I’m going to give you some time here to think about what I just said.”
And then he’s gone, and I feel the loss keenly.
I stand with the cane, the darkened room cast in shadows when I stand in the corner. This isn’t anything at all what I expected, but I’m doing myself no favors holding back. Time ticks by so long, that after a while I imagine I can even hear the ticking of a clock, but there is none. I stand with my back rigid, but I’m beginning to grow tired. Though he hasn’t instructed me not to move, I have the distinct impression that if I do, he’ll punish me.
I’m waiting for his command, but none comes.
Then with no warning at all, something shifts in me. Here, while staring at the blank wall in front of me, there’s no visual distraction. With the quiet in the room, the only sound my breathing and his, and the low bubbling sound of the diffuser he put on, my mind begins to quiet. The noise and chatter of my inner thoughts that distract me even in sleep begin to quiet. And when they do, a surprising calm trickles over my skin like warm water. My body heats, and I let out a deep sigh.
“Good girl,” he approves from behind me. “Now come here, Cora.”
I turn as if waking, suddenly brilliantly aware of every detail. The way he sits on the bed dressed in slacks and a pale blue shirt. The large, masculine hands that rest on his knees. So strong. So powerful. Capable of both destruction and reparation, hands that will master my body. The strong column of his neck, the sharp angle of his jaw, the pronounced slash of his cheekbones. And when I get to his eyes… God, those eyes… the depths of blazing blue fixed on mine with nothing but honesty written in those depths.
As I stare at him, his lips thin and his jaw firms.
“I told you to come here, Cora.”
I walk quickly toward him, broken from my trance, and as I stand before him, he rolls up his sleeves. It’s a beautiful sight, a powerful, silent declaration that he’s the one in charge. In control. This is no game.
“Now hand me the cane, please.”
Trembling, I obey, sliding the slim implement onto his palm. He stands and points to the bed, wordlessly instructing me to lie over it by tapping the edge with the cane. A full body tremor courses through me as I obey.
“Cora,” he says, his palm resting on the small of my back. “Breathe in.”
I inhale deeply.
“Now out.”
I release the breath.
“Before we begin, tell me what was on your mind while you stood in the corner.”
“Well,” I tell him honestly. “At first it was everything.”
“Everything?”
“Yes. A jumble of thoughts so loud I could hardly focus on one.”
“I see. And then?”
“Then they all began to flit away until my mind grew quiet.”
“Good,” he says. “That was a test.”
“And did I pass?”
“It wasn’t pass or fail. I wanted to see if you’d be able to find your peace in the corner, and you were. I’ll keep that in mind.”
I don’t really get it, but I nod into the bed. Now that I’m belly-down and bared to him, and he’s standing behind me with that wicked cane in his hand, I sort of want this over with.
“Now tell me the things on your mind.”