“She still has night terrors. Do you know that?” I ask her with a harsher voice than I should, anger and desperation flooding into my voice. Several men turn to look at me, but I ignore them. It’s not okay. “Late at night she screams, and she’s alone. She doesn’t even message me!” I only know because I look into her messages online. She needs me. “She doesn’t realize how much she needs this.”
Or maybe she does. Lately I’ve been wondering if she’s denying herself this. If she knows that I can help her, but she’s choosing to avoid it in favor of the pain.
It may be unconscious.
It may be her way of punishing herself for wanting this lifestyle. It rips my heart into two. I hate it. I can’t fucking stand it any longer.
“Convince her,” Madam Lynn says to me. I huff a humorless laugh, pinching the bridge of my nose as a pounding headache takes over.
“How?” I ask her.
“The auction will seal her fate.” Madam Lynn’s words turn my blood to ice. I don’t want her to go up for auction. I can’t stand the fact that she would be seen as available to anyone else.
“I don’t see how-” I start to say, but Madam Lynn cuts in.
“I’ll see what I can do for you.” She gives me a small smile and nods, holding my gaze.
The auction. My heart beats slower as I picture her on the stage upstairs in the dark room, the lights on her. I don’t know how Madam Lynn could possibly convince her. Katia has no interest in money.
But in this moment I trust her. I don’t know what else I can do.
Chapter 14
Katia
“Go get it, Toby!” I cry, throwing the squeaky stuffed lizard across the shelter’s backyard and watching Toby, a Golden Retriever, take off like a bolt of lightning to retrieve it. I let out an easy sigh as he reaches the toy and grips it in his powerful jaws, resting back on his haunches as he chews, making it squeal.
“Now bring it to me!” I command, gesturing at my feet. Toby understands my command, but he doesn’t move, the squeak of the toy blending in with the noisy cacophony of playful whines and barks of the dogs behind us. “Now!” I demand. Toby continues to ignore me, and I let out a groan, shaking my head and placing my hands on my hips and making a face.
He’s taunting me, wanting me to come after him. I don’t mind it though, I’ve been needing some playful bonding time with my dogs. It’s the only thing that helps my mood when I’m down. I gesture again at Toby, asserting my authority, but he’s stubborn, his eyes on me as he chews the toy. “Okay, if you want to play that way…” I begin to rush forward, but before I can take more than a few steps a dull throbbing pulses my upper thighs and ass, reminding me how sore I am.
Reminding me of Isaac.
A heavy weight settles over my chest as my thoughts turn inward, and I sink to my knees in the grass, letting Toby play with the damn squeaky toy on his own. I don’t want to think about my troubles today, preferring to just get lost in my work. But who am I kidding? I can never keep Isaac out of my mind, no matter how hard I try.
What’s worse is that I feel practically sick about it all. He’s upset with me. For the past week, there’s been an edge to his whippings, an anger that causes him to be more savage when he whips me. They’re true punishments. He always soothes me afterward, and the pain combines with the pleasure of his touch once he’s done with me, but nonetheless, they’re punishments.
The worse part about it is that I crave it. I get wet just thinking about it. How fucked is that? I don’t know what’s wrong with me, wanting him to whip me so hard. He never breaks skin, and it’s never more than I can take. I think I only crave it so much because after he’s done, he holds me, soothing my pain and then fucks me, giving me intense pleasure and showing that he forgives me.
But in the end it doesn’t solve anything. We both know that I’m still going to deny his collar and refuse to be with him outside of Club X. I rub my temples as they suddenly begin to pound. Just thinking about how fucked up this all is makes my head hurt.
I feel a slight nudge against my side and look down into clear brown eyes. Toby’s walked over and placed his toy at my knees as if he senses my discomfort. I feel a twinge of guilt as I look at him, as if my relationship with Isaac is a betrayal of my covenant with my dogs. Our whole relationship relies on kindness, gentleness and nurturing, while my relationship with Isaac is a dark, twisted thing, meant to sate my deepest desires.
“Come on, Toby,” I say with a sigh, climbing to my feet. Other nearby dogs rush to my side, hip to the routine. “Let’s go inside. It’s your dinnertime.”
I’m followed back inside the shelter by a pack of yelping, barking and excited dogs, my mood lifting slightly. I huff a small laugh, patting Toby’s head as I open the door.
Seeing all their excited, furry faces around me makes me feel fuzzy inside. They depend on me. They need me. They don’t care that I’m being whipped by a man at night. They love me unconditionally.
After penning each of them and giving them their food, I grab a bucket of soapy water and a scrub brush to go about sanitizing the toys. As I scrub, my thoughts stray back to Isaac.
My owner. My master.
He wants me to depend on him, for me to need him. I look up at the sound of one dog barking and think about how it’s similar in some ways. I shake my head, sighing heavily and wanting to scream in frustration.
I am not a fucking dog, and I should not be comparing our relationship to this.
My phone beeps, distracting me and bringing me back to the moment. Thank fuck. I clear my throat, dry with emotion, and stand up from the floor where I was washing the dog toys and walk over to the counter, grabbing my phone out of my purse. I bring up the screen and my heart drops slightly in my chest. It’s a text from my mom. My breath tightens in my throat as I read.
Hey honey, the family is getting together for Christmas Eve. I would really, really like to see you this time around… and so would everyone else. Can you please come home?
Love,
Mom
I drop the phone back to the counter as the sounds of dogs barking in the background assault my ears, increasing the pounding in my temples. I really don’t want to go. I hate that I feel this way, but I just can’t bring myself to put myself through it. They all look at me like I’m broken, and worse than that, when I look at them I feel broken. It fucking shreds me.
What could I actually talk about if I went, anyway? Living in filth and absolute squalor, being whipped by a sadistic man while in chains? Or about how I found a new Master and how I’m grappling with the decision of giving him a 24/7 power exchange? I shake my head, desperately wishing I had something to make this headache go away. There’s no way they’ll ever understand.
I look back to my cell’s screen and feel a heavy weight settle on my chest. I know my mother is hurting, and I know she wants to see me. If I tell her no after I’ve been avoiding her all this time, who knows how she might take it. I don’t want to disappoint her, but at the same time, I just don’t want to see them.
Sighing, I pick up the phone and type out a response. I figure if worse comes to worst, I can always use the dogs as an excuse. They always need me. It’s easy to hide behind work and pretend like it’s not them. It’s not the reminder of where I was, and what life was like before they took me.