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.
“On your back,” Logan orders, and leaves his throne to collect items from a cabinet.
Deep breath. I lay back and try to relax. As if this is a pap smear or some sort of similar torture.
Sessions with Logan have a big advantage over a regular doctor’s visit, though. There’s more pain, but way more chance of orgasms.
I school my face into a blank expression as Logan returns, rolling some sort of cart with him. His shadow falls over me and my leg twitches. I shift on the table, trying to get comfortable with the biggest butt plug I’ve ever worn stuffed inside me. I might not know what’s coming, but that’s always been part of the thrill, hasn’t it?
“Do I need to tie you down?” Logan rasps when I shift again.
“No. I trust you.” I give him a nervous smile.
Nothing. He’s still wearing the mask. A black one tonight. With his silk shirt and slacks, he’s a thin mustache away from sexy Zorro.
And now I want to smile. I must be nervous. That’s why I’m making bad jokes, even if just in my head.
But the thing is, I meant what I just said. I do trust him, in spite of everything that’s happened. He’s never betrayed or hurt me. So I take a deep breath and still all my twitching limbs.
“Since you wore the nipple clamps so well.” He holds up a tiny jeweled ornament. Similar emeralds, but no clamp attached. It takes me a second to recognize what it is and when I do, the breath leaves my body.
Oh shit, he’s going to pierce me.
This is permanent.
“No comment?” he smirks at me. I shake my head slowly.
If this is what he wants, then I want it too.
Is it really that easy? Has it really been that easy all along? All I needed to come alive again this whole time, to find my freedom— the solution was never to clench tighter and try to control things like my life was a series of scientific labs steps to follow.
What I didn’t know, what I could never know without Logan coming back into my life and showing me, was that the truest freedom can only be found in ultimate surrender.
I don’t tell him this. Instead, I let my body sink into the table as he briskly brushes antiseptic over my nipples. The sharp, clean scent stings my nose. The act is supremely erotic. The silence, the slight tickle of the brush. The care Master takes with his slave. My breathing deepens, my body slipping into that submissive state, readying me for what’s to come.
I feel like a new creature. Like my life is just beginning.
“You told me you liked pain. That it made you feel alive.” Logan’s voice is level, but his fingers tremble slightly as they pass over my breast. Even without me saying it, he knows something of what I’m feeling. That’s how attuned we are.
“It does. I do.” I raise my chin. “Give me the rose with the thorns.”
He turns back to bend over the tray, but his cheek curves. “Leave it to you to see the beauty in pain.”
“The way I see it, life is equal parts hurt and love. If I numb myself to one, then I miss out on the other.”