And no wonder. I look down at myself and my breath hitches again. I’m still covered in Logan’s cum. Was it only last night? He barged in here, made me beg and then…
I turn and bury my face in the pillow, wishing I could have stayed in the dream a little longer. Maybe in that dream world he would have eventually let me touch him. Maybe even wrapped his arms around me like he did that one night…after the funeral, when I felt more alone than I ever had before in my life.
But then Logan came.
I blink and lay on my side, staring at the sun pouring in the eastern window. For once in my life, there’s no rush to be anywhere. No lab tests, no meetings, no board breathing down my neck.
No inconvenient fiancés.
Still not getting out of bed, I reach over and pull out the bedside table drawer. The diamond flashes at me from the engagement ring. I pulled it off and tossed it in there as soon as I could, along with my phone.
Tethers to my old life, which feels increasingly far away. If only I could walk away forever, wave a wand and have all my responsibilities disappear.
The old Daphne would never feel this way. But…is that necessarily a bad thing?
I shove the drawer shut. I was going to call my dad, check in, but I’m not in the mood. The last few times I’ve called, he’s been asleep or busy with PT anyway. I can call him later and it’ll be fine. And I can pretend this is my life—a simple existence as Logan’s plaything—a little longer.
If I stop and think too hard, I know nothing about this is simple. And yet it is at the same time.
I close my eyes and will the dream to continue.
His arms around me.
But it’s not a dream that plays behind my eyelids. It’s the memories again. Memories I can’t escape, that somehow feel so fresh it’s as if it all happened last night.
His arms around me that terrible night, comforting me as I wept for my mother. How safe and cherished he made me feel. I think… I think that was the last time I ever felt that until… until now. Until he came back into my life.
First with my mom’s death and then his disappearance out of nowhere. Everything just sort of…stopped.
I just…stopped.
Emotionally and as a person, all the gears inside me slowed down and came to a grinding halt.
I was hurting so bad and there was no one there to help me understand or figure out how to get through it. Certainly not my father.
I frown and finally roll out of bed, heading for the shower.
The shower spray is cleansing hot. I wash, rinse, and rewash my hair several times, and survey the marks on my body. Mostly faded. Will Logan give me more today? Please, Master, will you whip me again? My laugh echoes around the luxuriously tiled room.
Dear gods, what is my life?
Because the thing is, while I might have been frozen in amber at 19, now at 27, I am waking the fuck back up. In a completely full-grown woman’s body.
I get out and blow-dry my hair, taking the time to style it. The woman in the mirror is a sloe-eyed seductress. I pucker my lips and she blows me a kiss.
Have I ever done this? Enjoyed a lazy morning, primping in the bathroom? Surely there was a moment in my teens when I posed for the mirror, figuring out how to get my hair to fall in sultry waves just so.
I wrack my brain but there’s no memory of happy time to myself. My teen years were dedicated to school, research, taking care of my mom. No fun with girlfriends. Not even a sleepover.
Not that I regret it. But, other than being the youngest recipient of the Avicennius grant, and a straight A student, and a dutiful daughter, who was I then?
Who am I now?
I run the brush through my hair. The woman in the mirror looks more serious now, but still calm. Of course she is. She doesn’t have a schedule. She has nothing to do but look beautiful and follow Master’s commands.
I envy her.
It could be like this forever.
I grip the edge of the countertop. No, I can’t think that. Is that what I want? To be Logan’s slave? His plaything?
But I’m more than a plaything. Isn’t that what I just realized? It’s not a one-way street.
I look myself in the mirror and I’m finally honest with myself: I’m not here for the patents. Whatever Logan’s motives, I’m here because I got a taste of being awake and alive, and I can’t go back.
Was your old life so much better anyway? The beauty in the mirror looks me straight in the eye. Well? Was it?
A company on the brink of collapse. A father who loves me only as an extension of his own scientific accomplishments. A fiancé I never wanted.
Still, it’s not like I can just give all that up, can I? Walk away from my responsibilities?
Were they your responsibilities in the first place? Was it your life? Your choice?
Yes. Everything I worked for, everything I was—I wanted. My heart starts beating quicker at all the rebellious thoughts. Right?
A sharp knock has me scurrying out of the bathroom. By the time I open the door, Logan is gone. Either that, or little elves delivered a cart with a silver, covered breakfast tray to my door. I roll the cart inside, my stomach clenching at the smell of bacon.
When I remove the cover, a note falls to the floor. My daily instructions.
After you eat, open the box by your bed.
I’m too curious to wait. Munching on a strip of bacon, I head to the bedside table where, sure enough, Logan left a plain black box, a bit bigger than the kind fancy chocolates might come in. It could hold anything.
As soon as I open it and see the gleaming metal, I know. My stomach swoops and my heart starts to beat faster.
Each butt plug is numbered strangely. 11:00-12:00. 13:00-14:00. 15:00-16:00. And the largest: 19:00. Times of the day, I realize. I’m to wear each one for an hour, graduating in size. This is my only task for the day.
Under the box is a final note. Meet me in the dungeon at 19:30.
The dungeon. Unf. My pussy clenches. I pick up the smallest butt plug and grimace at my distorted reflection.
But it’s immediately followed by a thrill of excitement.
Tonight, Logan claims all of me.
He left a final note with further instructions with my lunch. I could walk down the stairs to the dungeon. But as soon as I passed through the heavy doors, I had to crawl.
But he laid out a carpet. Red. Strewn with rose petals.
A second before I cross the threshold, I drop to my knees. I can’t describe what it feels like, the dirty thrill I feel at lowering myself to the ground. It’s dirty and sexy and when I crawl seductively, I can feel his eyes on me almost like a physical thing. Can he see the large plug in my ass from this angle? Gods, I never knew there could be such power in being on my knees.
I crawl until Logan’s feet come into view. They’re bare, roped with veins and dusted with dark hair. He’s seated on a huge throne-like chair, the grandly carved wood dark with age. A king in his castle.
I settle myself on my knees before him and wait. Seconds tick by like years.
“Did you follow my instructions like a good girl?” His voice is a throaty growl.
I dare then to look up. “Yes, Master.”
His eyes gleam. “Up.” He indicates the table in the center of the room. With a shaky sigh, I rise and climb onto the leather-padded top. Sitting like a patient waiting for a doctor, bare ass naked.
Except this patient has a huge butt plug stretching her sphincter. I subtly lean on one hip.