Total pages in book: 71
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 67211 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 336(@200wpm)___ 269(@250wpm)___ 224(@300wpm)
She brings her laptop with her as I instructed, and often sits on my lap after we’ve spent some time with each other, and she writes her little fingers off. She’s gotten over her aversion to me reading her books and now asks for my input. Occasionally, I’ll read over a scene and give her some ideas or talk over a plot point she needs to wrestle through. She says her words have never flown like this before. I make sure she gets to bed on time and eats good, nourishing food. I spoil her in all ways but one: she’s never allowed to be disrespectful or disobedient.
When we arrive at Verge, we go to the bar, but she doesn’t have a drink this time. She nibbles on the nuts in the little bowls and sips a soda while I drink a beer, and I can feel her tension from where I sit. It’s part of my job as her dominant to keep an eye on her emotional wellbeing, and I can feel she’s as tightly-wound as a taut spring.
“You okay?” I ask. I grasp the back of her neck with my fingers and give her a little squeeze.
“Better when you do that,” she says with a sigh. I massage her neck and wait for her to talk. She lets out a breath. “I got edits back today, and I have some work to do. There are parts that are very strong,” she smiles at me, “thank you for that. But there’s a major plot hole I didn’t see until my editor gave me these edits back. It’ll take hours and days to get it fixed.”
“Well, I’ll make sure you have that time,” I tell her. “And it’s also been a while since you’ve had a spanking.”
Biting her lip, she wars with herself a bit before she responds. It’s hard to admit she thrives under my firm discipline and guidance, but we both know it to be true. She’s fully capable alone, and so am I, but together, we flourish.
If I let her go too long without being dominated, she gets irritable and feisty until I dom the hell out of her. Tonight’s that night.
“Is there anything else on your mind?”
Her eyes don’t meet mine. “Well,” she begins. Her voice trails off, but I’m not letting this go. I wait for her to continue. Finally, with a sigh, she rolls her eyes and turns back to me. “It’s stupid. The whole thing’s so stupid.”
“What?”
“I got an email from someone today. Someone who reads my books?”
“Yeah?”
“Yeah. They went on and on about how morally wrong my books are, because I have all these scenes where women are dominated, and books like mine have not only undermined the efforts of decades of feminist ideology and progress, they create weak-minded individuals who learn they have to depend on someone else to be fulfilled.”
A clawing anger gnaws at my gut. I can hardly stand when she bangs her toe or has a headache; hearing that someone treated her this way makes me want to punch a damn wall. “Is that right?” I ask, keeping my tone calm. “Well that’s bullshit, and you know it.”
“Do I?” she asks with a sad smile. “Yes, my books are fiction, but they’re fantasy, too. I mean… it’s what appeals to me. If I didn’t like it, I wouldn’t write it.”
I take her hand. “You have full consent here.”
“Sometimes,” she says. “I don’t always like when you dom me.”
I tug her onto my lap and hold her for a minute, feeling her settle against me. “Babe, that’s not what consent is about. Sometimes you need me to take you beyond what’s comfortable. The only way we ever grow is by pushing our limits. But you trust me, and that’s your forte. You willingly give yourself over to me, and it takes incredibly strength to submit to someone else.” I chuckle. “Hell, I couldn’t do it.”
She smiles. “You definitely do the ‘in charge’ thing better than the submission thing. It’s just that, I wonder about morality sometimes. I hated that I was the one who tempted you from doing what was right so long ago. My parents berated me for it. The people in our town said I was a slut, that the good father never would have fallen from grace if it hadn’t been for me. Just today, that stupid woman called me a hussy. God! I mean, in my heart, I know that you love me. And I love you. But sometimes, my head gets in the way and tells me I need to turn away from this.”
I wrap my arms around her and hold her. Sometimes, a submissive needs to question these things, and it’s my job as her dom to listen, give her space to hash it all out, then help get her back on track. I don’t have the doubts that she does. I accepted long ago that I was wired to dominate, that pursuing this lifestyle was the pinnacle of fulfillment for what I crave. I’ve long since forgiven myself for failing at my vows, for those vows were never meant for me.