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He laughs and sits on the bed. When I’ve put away all the clutter, and wiped down all the surfaces with a face cloth, I look around the room and leave the hand towel next to His sink rumpled.
“I’m ready for inspection, Sir,” I call into the bedroom. When He walks toward me, this is the Master I know. His confident swagger returned, His demanding attention scoping around the room, searching out the tiny missed detail.
Of course he realizes it was intentional, and perhaps he understands that they all were. When He sees it, He grasps me around the back of the neck and walks me toward the infraction.
“Is this how I like my towels, sweet Chelsea?” His clipped tone hiding the sparkle that I hope gleams in His eye.
“Oh, no Sir. I’m so sorry,” I quiver as I reach to correct it.
“Go and kneel on the bed, knees apart, and wait for your punishment.”
As I obey, I’m again struck with thoughts of Marie. Lying or even kneeling on the bed she normally shares with Master seems like a betrayal, and my pace forward stops.
I glance back at Him, feeling unsure again. Perhaps this will not turn into anything, and we’ll all end up burying each other.
As I stand in the doorway, hesitating, He walks up behind me and places His hands on my shoulders. He pulls my back against Him and whispers, “She’s gone, sweet girl. And she won’t be returning.”
My body spins of its own volition. “What?! No, she’s on vacation, she told me herself!” I quickly check my attitude, “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t mean to shout. I-“
“It’s ok, little one. I asked her not to tell you, because I didn’t want you to assume that my desire to advance our relationship was due to some need to replace her.”
I stare up into His eyes, feeling exactly that.
“The truth is, I have ended my arrangement with both she and Rachel. But, I am allowing Rachel to stay in the apartment for a while.”
I turn and reach for his robe hanging from a hook beside the door, but my knees give out, and I’m suddenly in a heap on the floor.
Sir grabs the robe and drops to His knees to wrap me in it, then holds my face between His hands. “I’m definitely befuddled here, sweet girl. I never expected your loyalty to run so deep. I never expected to… I never thought I’d be willing to turn my life upside down… “
“Please say something… at least look at me?”
I shift my gaze from the floor to His face. Looking at Him still feels odd. But His expression is so warming. I feel the questions blooming in my mind. I need answers. “May I… Sir…”
“Please, Chelsea, ask me anything,” He breathes, relief washing over His features as he sits with His legs on either side of me, and lowers His hands to cover mine, rubbing them to warm them. “You’re freezing, little one…” He whispers.
“Why did you turn your life upside down?”
He exhales, struggling with the answer. “Do you remember the week your divorce was final? You texted me that afternoon. You said you were free, and you sounded so pleased. But then the next night, you left me that voicemail.”
He was stroking my hands, and I suddenly wished I was wrapped in his arms in bed instead of huddled in front of him on the cold, marble floor. I shiver shot through me as I recalled that humiliating message. I had been so sad, lonely and frustrated. I sought out his companionship, knowing it wasn’t truly available.
“I was so concerned about you that I drove to your home. I wanted to hold you and comfort you, make you feel wanted and cared for. Your sadness drove down deep into my heart, and I honestly couldn’t stop thinking about that. Every week I couldn’t wait for Wednesday, and it became very noticeable to Marie. She asked me 4 weeks ago if I realized what was happening.
“I told her I was considering asking you to live here with us, and she told me it would never work. She made me see that you were not like her and Rachel. You were submissive, but if you were truly going to be safe in the lifestyle, you would need someone who could devote themselves completely to being your Dominant. She does not believe I have it in me to do that. I’ve surrounded myself for years with many submissives who could all offer me something different. I could never settle for just one.
“But every week after that, you showed me something about yourself that I had never found before. And then, a few weeks ago, I heard you chatting with Marie. She had already told me she was leaving, and I was worried what she was going to say to you, so I eavesdropped. You had just had a pretty brutal strapping, but you babbled away as if you hadn’t been punished at all. During your conversation, Rachel found me listening and smiling, and she told me she thought I was falling for you.
“And then you said something that knocked the wind out of me. You told Marie that you wished you could find a single guy, just like me. Rachel heard it too, and when she saw my face…”
I looked up at Him, waiting for Him to finish. But His eyes told me everything.
“Sir, May I ask how you even know that… I mean, what if I… What if we cannot be what each other needs? I cannot bear the thought of your whole world-“
“Stop. After just ending a marriage, I can’t believe you would even… No, I can believe it, but if you accept… If you become mine, this is your first rule: You are not permitted to believe you are not worth my whole world.” His fingers trace down my cheek and neck, to stroke my hair. “You are the most amazing creature I have ever had the pleasure to gaze upon.”
His words stopped my heart. My chest feels odd, and full again, as though the years spent shriveling in an empty marriage never happened. But I’m still not ready to offer Him my everything… My complete submission? I’m not even sure what that would mean for my life, career, etc.
“I’m just… Please, Sir. Can we get up off the floor?” I squeak, feeling too vulnerable.
“I have more questions, but could we put all of it aside for tonight? I think… I’d like… You were… About to punish me, Sir?” I know my voice is barely audible, but I know feeling His Dominance will help me.
I need to feel, even just for a moment, what it will be like to be His, completely.
He doesn’t speak, and I can only guess He is struggling with what to do. He’s never been in this situation before, always having had experienced subs. Taking me on as a service sub had been a very difficult decision for Him. This must seem like completely foreign territory.
I decide to help by removing the robe. I stand to hang it back on the hook, and then lower myself to the floor, on my knees, in front of Him, linking my arms behind me and lowering my chin. A small show of submission. A request for power exchange.
He remains silent and still for a long time. When he finally rises, I remember Rachel once telling me to never have expectations, when it came to punishments. So I tried to empty my mind, pushing my anxiety down into the pit of my stomach. I wasn’t sure what he was going to do, but He wasn’t reaching down to collect me, so I concentrated on my breathing.
After several more minutes, I hear Him moving around. He opens a drawer in the bedroom, then I hear Him pulling something out of the linen closet behind me.
“Since, my pet, you let on that you didn’t like being on the floor, part of your punishment will be to remain there for a while.” He kneels beside me and pulls my arms swiftly down my back. He wraps them with something tightly, and I respond to His signal to clasp my hands together. “Good girl,” He whispers, and the delicious rush those two tiny words provide is exhilarating. I cannot wait to hear them again and again.
He exhales deeply, and glides His fingers down my backside. He arranges my body with expert hands, pushing my chest to the floor, pulling my knees apart as far as my muscles will allow, and then he grips my hips and pulls them up, raising my behind into the air. When I move my feet, to use my toes on the floor for balance, He slaps them both and presses the tops of them against the cold tile beneath me. “Use your large muscles for balance, pretty girl, not your tiny ones.” His admonishment sends me further into submission.
“Now, sweet Chelsea, I am not punishing you this evening for the hand towel, but because you intentionally ignored a minor detail while completing your task, and this is clearly a pattern of manipulation. True submission is to be constantly pleasing, not seeking out punishment. If you are in need of attention, you need only tell me so. Manipulation displeases me. But communication makes me very happy. Do you understand?”
“Y-yes, Sir,” I bleat against the tile.
“Because you appear to enjoy spanking and strapping, I will only use those for pleasure. Your punishments will be much more intense. Do you understand?”
“I… You… Are you going to hurt me badly, Sir?”
“Sweet girl, have I ever hurt you badly? Or even close?”
“You have a very high tolerance for pain, so I am going to have to experiment on you. But if it is too much for you, you need only to tell me so. I will take things slowly, but I am fairly sure I have a better idea of what you can take than you do.”
“I’m going to use a flogger to start. Do you know what that is?”
“Then, I will begin.”
He inhaled a long breath, I felt the air rush over my backside, and then the tiny strands of leather sting against my skin. After several blows, the stinging sensation gets hotter. He swings in a steady pace from side to side at first, and the rhythm becomes meditative. But that doesn’t last long as he increases speed. Suddenly, I feel the bites of just the tips of the strands, like a hundred bee stings, and I cry out. He does this again several times, and I feel my will starting to return. I’m not sure how much more I can take, and just as I think I might say stop, He shifts back into the repetitive side to side swings that he started with.
I don’t allow myself to float off this time, and instead listen to His breathing. With each blow, He grunts very softly, and I find myself imagining His growing erection. I picture Him watching my ass redden and undulate with the strikes, with a satisfied smile on His lips. My body responds to my thoughts and my hips rotate slightly as I raise it higher in the air by arching my back as much as I can. He groans, and increases His speed again, flicking at the end of each swing so that I feel the bee stings again.
This time, the pain pushes me down further. I want to complete this punishment, I want to hear him say those lovely two words that will wrap against my heart and make me whole.
Sensing my determination, he changes pace and direction, again. And whimpers and moans escape my throat automatically. Tears sting my eyes, and something within me breaks. A wrenching sob escapes my chest, and I shout, “I’m sorry. I’m sorry…” He doesn’t stop. And I don’t ask him to.
As he continues, the heartache and sadness that has filled my heart for months, maybe year, pours from deep within me. It is an incredible release. The sobs rip through me, and I think he is speaking to me, but his words don’t register, even though I think I answer. I feel like I need it to be more. Harder. Suddenly, he throws down the flogger and uses something else. It cracks against my skin and whistles through the air. With each burning strike, I feel something blooming within me. I let go, and allow it to take control. This punishment has turned into something I never expected I needed. As I let go, the release of my tears and the movement of my body is all that I feel. I inhale deeply and as I release that breath, I feel detached. I feel words leave my lips, but I don’t hear them. I feel the air across my skin, and goose-bumps tingle across my flesh, but cannot place what causes them. I exhale again, suddenly realizing that I think I hear his voice.
“Sir?” I whisper, unable to open my eyes.
I hear his voice again, but cannot make out the words. I feel his hands unbinding my arms and then his breath on my back. His breathing is hard and fast, and I feel him move in front of me, scooping me up and onto His lap.
“Sir?” I breathe again, still unsure of what is happening.
“Yes, my good girl,” he growls against my hair, stroking me and rubbing my arms. “I believe that turned out to be a therapy beating.”
“Sir?” I force my eyes to open, and when they do, the flood of light surprises me.
“Shhh, give yourself a moment, my sweet. You were deep in subspace. Are you in any pain?” His words are soft and gentle, but his voice is husky and breathless.
“No, sir. I’m not sure I feel anything….” He squeezes me in His strong embrace, assuring me. “I… I’m not sure what happened?”
“You broke. Reset. The pain opened you up to let go, emotionally.” He kisses my hair and is pulling the robe around my shivering body. “You said he ruined you…”
“S-sir? I think I might like a few more of those….” I whisper, the room feeling small and overwhelming at the same time. “Letting go…”
“What did you mean, precious? Who ruined you? Your ex-husband?” His hands rubbed and kneaded my hips and thighs.
“He took the best part of me. I loved him and gave him everything, but he didn’t really know how to love. At the end, I stopped taking care of him. I stopped talking to him. When we did talk, he was always hurtful and empty. I think he is broken, and that is why he ruined me.”
I felt the tears sliding down my cheeks again, and Martin’s arms tighten around me. He leans me back, wiping my tears with his thumbs.
“Oh, darling girl… Thank you for letting me rip it out of you. You are not ruined. He took from you, but not the best parts. It will be my life long goal to build you back up, to make you complete again. But the best parts are all still here.” His lips drop to mine, and his flames pour into me, reigniting my desire.
I moan as his tongue circles mine. His fingers trail down my cheek and neck, and flatten so that his whole hand glides down the length of me. He lifts me off his lap, setting my seared backside on the cold tile floor before rising to his knees and scooping me up in his arms. He rises with such ease, his strength so obvious, I’m overcome with my feelings for him, and bury my face against his neck.
As he glides into the bedroom, he dims the lights and places me on the bed, pulling the robe off of my body as he does so. He quickly removes his clothes and clicks a button on the night table, filling the room with soft music. He places his palms on the bed next to my shoulder and glides onto the bed, lying directly on top of me. I squirm against his erection, wanting him inside of me, but only achieve a small amount of friction.
He drops to his elbows, placing his hands on either side of my face. “Tonight, I am going to make love to you the way only I can, sweet Chelsea, because that is what your shattered heart needs most.”
…to be continued.