Total pages in book: 206
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 192184 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 961(@200wpm)___ 769(@250wpm)___ 641(@300wpm)
A lot of girls want to be submissive, give in to belonging to a lover. I’m not saying every woman wants it but there are a lot of women who enjoy it, who crave it and embrace it. I had no problems finding women who did, but I needed the fear first and most couldn’t pull off convincing me of it unless I went over the edge with them and made them truly afraid. And none of them made me want them like she did. I didn’t want a submissive with safe words putting limits on what she’d give me. I wanted a willing slave, someone willing to give me whatever I needed.
If I let her go tomorrow and she went on to live a normal life I knew I’d already ruined her for vanilla. She’d always think about sex with me. No one would measure up because after me she’d think she had to pick some accountant in a sweater vest, the polar opposite of me. As she laid there staring at the ceiling waiting for sweater vest to finally go limp inside her, she’d be thinking about getting her hair pulled, her ass smacked, and having my hand caress her throat, while feeling my breath against her ear as I whispered in her ear how I owned her and what I wanted to do to her.
How did I walk the line of taking what I wanted to ensure I kept wanting her without breaking her? In the beginning I’d been thrilled by the notion of breaking her spirit and bending her to my will, but now… I still wanted her to be mine, but didn’t want to extinguish that fire in her. Because unlike the women I had to take over the edge to make them feel real fear temporarily, I wanted Tia. The other women were a one off. I couldn’t break her or she wouldn’t be Tia anymore and I’d be married to this empty shell of a person who did what I wanted but in a way I wouldn’t crave it anymore.
She was getting to me in a way I hadn’t expected and I wanted something else from her, too, but I didn’t know what name to give what I wanted. I wanted her to see the real me, to want me, even if I wasn’t perfect, even if I could be a cold-hearted prick sometimes. Did I want her to love me? Love was something I never had before. I got praise and respect through accomplishments. I had to earn everything I got.
Right now, before work, I needed another session with the heavy bag. When I got out of the shower I got dressed to head out, but first I took off my silver chain. It was a curious thing, the way my mindset shifted when I wore it. It belonged to my mother and when I had to make tough decisions, tap into my inner beast and handle the dirty shit in my life and my line of work I couldn’t do those things as well if I was wearing it.
On the other side of the coin, if I was filled with rage that I didn’t want to feel and I put it on it usually helped me find my center, like this morning when Nino said she was in the basement I put it on before I went down.
I knew it was just an object, that it was all in my head, but it somehow helped to ground me. Right now, I had a tough job to take care of before dinner at Pop’s so I left the chain on the counter in the bathroom.
I had a light breakfast alone and then spent the rest of the morning sorting through the rest of my things, watching the beautiful ring sparkle every time my hand moved. I wasn’t generally a materialistic girl at all but this ring! It was just so sparkly. I kept staring at it. My French manicure was still intact, astonishingly, despite the fact that I’d brawled with him, and I couldn’t get over how my hand looked just so grown up, just so not my hand.
Sarah had offered to help me sort things out, but I wanted to do it alone. I knew it was her day off, but more than that, I didn’t want interference. These were my personal things. There had been nothing I wanted to throw out; I’d already done my weeding and sorting thinking I was taking that apartment at the Carusos’. But looking through my things I felt like I was looking at them again with different eyes than I had a week ago when I’d packed everything.
I brought my clothes upstairs in several armloads and I found that there were a few empty drawers in the bureau in the closet, plus some shelving and rod space were cleared out for me, by the looks of things.