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Chapter 6



“Abby! Open this door right now!” I woke up to the screeching of my friends as they pounded on my apartment door. My body was weak as I stumbled out of my bed. I was halfway to the door before I realized I was still naked. Shrugging- not like that, haven’t seen it before- I continued my walk. But then I realized that they hadn’t seen me naked since the marks had appeared. Quickly, I turned around, shrugging on a robe before I opened the door. Wordlessly, I turned around and headed back to my bed. I had no idea what time it was, but it had to be an unholy hour. I felt like I’d only slept ten minutes.

“Jesus,” Danny said as I face plant into my pillow.

“Abby,” Sam said softly. “Have you gotten out of bed recently?”

“We were at the club last night,” I mumbled into my pillow.

“That was three days ago,” Ellie exclaimed.

I’d been in bed for three days?


I heard them whispering to each other but made no effort to understand the words. Someone stood from the bed and I panicked as I realize they were moving to the bathroom. “Wait!” I shouted, moving as fast as my shaky body would let me.

“Fuck,” Danny cursed loudly as he stood by the bathroom door. The evidence of my shame was still all over the floor. The razor was covered in my dried blood, as was the bathroom floor. Having been caught, I turned and headed back to bed. I was met halfway by Ellie and Sam, wanting to see what the commotion was about. They gasped as they take in the scene.

By the time they were done doing what I was assuming was cleaning, I was curled back in my bed, silent tears streaming down my face.

“Abby, please talk to us,” Ellie begged.

“What happened?”

Danny grabbed my arms and sighed heavily as he saw the fresh cuts. He ran his hands over the older ones.

“You need help,” he said.

“I’m fine,” I said, my voice void of all emotion.

I’d been getting better, so I thought. Right until the scene last night, I’d actually felt okay in my skin, being back in a club.

“I don’t mean a therapist. Most of them hate the lifestyle anyway. You need a new Dom to heal you.”

“Jumping to another Dom won’t fix me. I can’t trust anyone like that ever again. I’ll be fine,” I insisted.

“She’s right,” Ellie offered. “Actually, no, you’re both wrong. Well. No. What I mean,” Ellie stuttered a little before taking a deep breath and organising her thoughts. “A new Dom is not going to help her. But a therapist will. If you don’t want to talk to us about what’s going on, you should at least talk to someone.”

I didn’t say anything. What was there to say? Danny was right, most therapists looked down at the lifestyle and going to them wouldn’t help me if they didn’t accept that being a submissive was tied into the core of who I was.

“Tom said Master Jared hasn’t stopped talking about you,” Danny offered in the silence.

“You should call him,” Sam said as Danny finished sharing that bit of news.

“No,” I said firmly.

“You need to eat,” Ellie said, walking in with a bottle of water and a bowl of fruit. I hadn’t even realized she’d left.

“I’m not hungry.”

“Eat!” She shouted. I was so caught off guard by her anger that I had no choice but to obey.

“It’s time to talk about what happened. It’s been nearly six months. You’ve been in bed for three days without even realizing it.”

Maybe they were right. Maybe talking about it would help. But I couldn’t say the words. Maybe show and tell would be my best option.

Instead of speaking, I turned back to my back and pulled the covers down so that the lower part of my back and curve of my ass were exposed. Three collective gasps echoed through my bedroom.

“Those are from?”

“Master Eric,” I nodded.

“That’s a hard limit for nearly everyone,” Sam said. No permanent marking or scaring was what she meant. Very few Doms and even fewer subs felt the need to let someone or be the person to permanently mark someone.

“I safe worded. Over and over and over. But he didn’t stop,” I cried. “He called me a name with every whip. Bitch. Whore. Slut. Worthless. Fat.” Everything was bubbling out, six months’ worth of pent-up emotions flooding to the surface and escaping.

“That fucking good for nothing wannabe Dom!” Danny seethed.

“When he finally stopped beating me. He-he-he.”

“No,” Sam said in horror, already knowing what I was going to say before I could even get the words out.

“I screamed and screamed. No. My safe word. He didn’t listen to any of it. He raped me,” I whimpered as I spoke.

Three pairs of arms wrapped around me, holding me close and letting me cry. I didn’t know how I waited six months to tell them. But something changed when I did. I didn’t necessarily feel better, in fact I felt a little worse, but at the same time it was like there wasn’t a cloud hanging over me anymore, like a little bit of the darkness was being pushed away by the light my friends brought.

“A true Dom isn’t like that,” Danny said seriously. “I’m sorry you went through that, but no man, especially your Dom, should ever touch you like that. A real man wouldn’t, Dom or not.” His words echoed those of J, who’d spoken at the station just a few days ago.

“I can’t go back. I’m done,” I said with conviction I didn’t actually feel.

“It’s your choice,” Ellie said, casting Danny a warning glare.

“It is. But you should have all the information before you choose. Tom said that Master Jared hasn’t taken interest in a sub in years. Years. He hasn’t played causally in nearly a year either. He told Tom he could tell you were broken and that you had trust issues. He wants to help.”

“He can’t.”

Knowing the conversation was useless, he gave up. Ellie and Sam helped me shower while Danny ordered us food.

There was no mention of my cutting or clear depression but when they left I felt better, even if it was just a tiny amount. Spending time with them, eating greasy fast food burgers, had helped. Telling them finally lifted a weight off my shoulders.


A week went by in relative normality- what counted as normal before the incident that anyway. But one night I woke up from a nightmare and had to cut again.

A sense of pride filled me when it only took one to satisfy the urge.

The next morning, after the cutting incident, I woke up feeling exhausted. I stumbled to the kitchen, in desperate search for food, only to find my fridge seriously lacking anything that resembled an acceptable breakfast, or lunch, or dinner, hell even a snack.

Quickly, I dressed and head to the diner down the street.

I was sitting in a corner booth, distractedly shoving large bites of french toast into my mouth, when the deep rumbling of a throat clearing pulled my eyes upward.

Master Jared stood in front of me. Somehow, he looked even better out of his leathers than in them. Those jeans and the sleeves of a rolled up button up showing me his dark skin was doing something to me. He smiled down at me. “Hello, Abby.”

“Master Jared,” I squeaked out in surprise.

“Please. Just Jared, here.” I nodded. “May I?” He asked, pointing to the empty booth across from me. I nodded. I made a real attempt to take more ladylike bites of my food.

I cursed myself for the thoughts. There was no such thing as ladylike. That was what he wanted of me. To be his perfect little doll.

“I’m glad I ran in to you,” he said before my thoughts could spiral further. “I was a little sad you didn’t call.”

“I’m not in the market for a Dom. I’m out of the lifestyle.” It was better to be blunt and forward.

“Why did you decide to leave?” I swallowed harshly, unwilling and unable to answer his question. I took another bite of food. “Someone broke your trust. Your last Dom, I’m assuming. He may have even been your first since it’s clear to me you don’t know how a Dom is actually supposed to treat you.”

I gazed at him quizzically. I didn’t think I was that easy to read.

“I’m a dungeon master, little one. It’s my job to be able to read the subs.”

I was uncomfortable. He knew too much, and I hadn’t even said a word. I lifted my arm, calling down the waitress. I needed to go. Not paying attention to my actions, I lifted the wrong arm. The loose blouse fell down my arm, exposing the bandage around my wrist.

Master Jared had my arm in his hand before I could flinch away. His grip was firm but gentle. “Did you do this to yourself?” His voice was angry.

I didn’t answer. His heated gaze found mine and despite the anger of his words, I only saw compassion and concern in his jade green eyes. And buried deep, lust.

“Let’s go,” he Sid, leaving no room for argument. He slammed a fifty on the table, which was enough to pay for my breakfast and a generous top five times over.

I knew that if I protested, he’d let me go.

But I heard Danny’s voice in the back of my mind. I never wanted to leave the lifestyle. I was a lifer. I didn’t feel whole without it.

It was messy trying to reconcile that part of me with the part that knew that was what hurt me. But then the smart part reminded me again that Danny is right. A real Dom, a real man, wouldn’t do that.

It was exhausting.

I was so distracted by my thoughts I didn’t even realize I was in Master Jared’s car again, and that he’d stopped outside a house. Opening my door, he helped me climb out of his car and walked me inside. I was entranced by the large house. It was beautiful. I hadn’t been paying attention to the drive, but we were definitely in one of the more affluent suburbs. I didn’t even get a chance to take in the surrounding of the entryway before I was being pulled up the stairs. The entire way, I knew that I could protest, but I didn’t. Because I didn’t want to. At the top of the stairs, he pulled out his keys and opened a locked door at the end of the hallway. He led me inside the room, dim lights come on automatically.

I was standing in a playroom for the first time since the incident and I felt my breathing quicken.

“You’re safe,” he murmured in my ear, completely in tune with my emotions, even though we’ve never done this before. “Strip,” he commanded. His voice was different, harsher. It was his Dom voice. The submissive in me complied immediately. “What are your safe words?” He asked.

The question was simple- the simplest one any submissive could answer, and I should have an answer ready. They used to be red and yellow. Standard. But I couldn’t use them anymore, not since Eric didn’t listen to them. “I’m waiting,” Master Jared said. I flinched at his tone of voice and it didn’t go unnoticed. “No,” he said angrily. “Did he ignore the use of your safe word?” I nodded, hating and loving how easy it was for him to read me. Jared took a deep breath. “I will not do that to you. Please, little one, choose two safe words.”

“Pineapple,” I said.

“And to slow down?”


“Repeat them back.”

“Pineapple and peach.”

“Address me properly, little one. I know you know better. Master or sir. You may choose.”

“Pineapple and peach, master.” Master is usually reserved for long-term dom-sub relationships, but it felt right. And he’d introduced himself as Master Jared; it was all I knew him as.

“Good girl, little one.”

As if finally realizing I was naked, he began his inspection. I stood at attention, back straight, head forward, arms behind my back, feet shoulder with apart. He nodded in approval. “Hard limits?”

“Blood play, breath play, orgasm deprivation as a form of punishment, no age play, no dirty to clean play, no water play, scat play, fisting of any kind, no anal play, and no play that leaves permanent marks or scars, master.” They were pretty standard limits. Except for the anal one.

“Soft?” He asked. He was still only inspecting my front. He noticed how my breath hitched with my last limit, and I knew he’d figured out what happened with my last Dom. Now he was just looking for the evidence. He’d find it.

“No photography or video without consent, electro play, knife play, master.”

“If you’ve forgotten something and I cross a line, pineapple to stop, peach to slow down and explain.”

“Yes, master.” He started walking around my back and I went rigid, knowing he was going to see the scars. He cursed lowly, and I saw the anger in his eyes as his nostrils flare while he stared at me in the mirror.

“He ignored your use of the safe word and left you with these markings?” I couldn’t verbalize an answer, so I nodded, my eyes cast down. He was in front of me again, his fingers gently lifting my head so I could look him in the eyes. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered.

“No,” I shook my head. “Worthless. Whore. Slut.” The words came tumbling from my mouth as I started to shake.

“Stop!” He commanded, but I can’t.

“Bitch. Fat. Worthless. Worthless. Worthless.” My tears flew freely. Master pulled me closer to the mirror, and I clenched my eyes closed, unable to look at my reflection.

“You are beautiful. Say it.”

“I’m not,” I cried. All I could see were the scars on my wrists and the most recent across my lower abdomen.

“You’re worthy.”

“Worthless,” I said to my reflection. My open defiance was testing his control.

I wasn’t usually a brat.



“Okay, little one,” he began with a wicked gleam in his eye. It made me swallow harshly and want to clench my thighs together at the same time. “If you can’t say anything nice about yourself, I’ll just have to make sure you can’t say anything at all.” He walked away before returning just as quickly. He placed a ball gag in front of me. “Open,” he said. I opened willingly, letting him wrap it around me securely. “You can’t use your safe words anymore.” At his words, I started to panic. “Relax,” he said soothingly. “Snap your fingers once if you want me to stop. Nod if you understand.”

I nodded.

“Good girl.” His praise had heat rushing to my core.

Taking my hand, he guided me to the bench in the center of the room. He bent me over it before securing my ankles, legs spread wide. “You’re only allowed to move if it’s snapping your fingers.” I shuddered. This is what I loved, giving my submission to a man.

The conflicting emotions had me guaranteed to be headed for sub-drop when this was over. But over six months without an orgasm, even from my own hands, had made me not care.

“Little one, you look absolutely stunning. You are perfect.” Tears formed in my eyes at his words.

“Beautiful,” he said, kissing the freshest cut on my arm.

“Worthy,” he said, moving his lips along my arm to an older scar.

“Perfect,” he kissed the next.

“Pretty,” he said, and the tears were openly falling. Once he’d kissed all the scars on my left arm, he moved to the right. There were significantly less there since I couldn’t cut properly with my left hand.

“Sexy.” Kiss. “Exquisite. Exceptional.” Kiss. Kiss.

“Lovable,” he continued his praise. Releasing my hand, he moved around to my back. I felt him kneel behind me as he lightly traced his fingers over the scars. I expected my body to react on its own, to flinch away; instead, I moaned under his delicate caress.

“Flawless.” More tears.

“Stubborn.” I struggled to laugh around the gag. I’d met him twice. But it felt like he knew me, like he saw me. Kiss.

I was caught off guard as he lowered himself and licked through my slit. My laugh turned into a moan as I writhed under him. His big hands pulled my cheeks apart as he feasted on me. He worked his tongue into my quivering entrance slowly.

I was cursing around the gag in my mouth. “I love those sexy little sounds,” he cajoled me into making more. Two long fingers replaced his tongue as his fingers slid through my slit to my throbbing clit.

It’d been so long since someone had touched me like this; I was on the verge of coming embarrassingly quick. I did my best to fight it off, but his mouth was working wickedly against me as his fingers went deeper and deeper each time. “You don’t need permission to come, little one.” As thankful as I was to hear the words, I needed his mouth back on me. “Today’s about your pleasure.” He sucked my clit back into his mouth, rolling it around. My legs shook, and my head pulled up as I cried out around the gag. My release covered his mouth and fingers. “So beautiful, little one.”

Walking around, I saw that he’d stripped himself of his clothes. I was too lost in pleasure to hear the telltale signs of his clothes falling to the floor. His cock was long and thick, perfectly proportioned to match his body. “If I remove the gag are you going to do as I say?”

I could only nod in response. He untied the gag and pulled it away. “Do you have anything you want to say about yourself?” I swallow harshly, knowing what he wanted to hear, but unsure if I could make the words come out of my mouth. “Do you want another orgasm, little one?”

“Yes, please, master.”

“Then say it.”

“I. Am. Worthy.” The words came out slowly, one at a time, completely forced.

“We’ll work on it.” Releasing me from the bench, he pulled to him, my naked body flush against his. “You were disobedient,” he growled, pulling me to the bed. Pushing me down on it, he grabbed a condom.

“Peach,” I blurted. His motions stopped completely, and he looked at me. “I’m sorry,” I said. “But I can’t give you anything, not today. I’m sorry, master,” I said.

“That’s perfectly fine, little one,” he said. “I respect your boundaries. I, however, would still like to give you a well deserve punishment. You were disobedient.”

“I’m sorry, master. I deserve a punishment.”

“Ten spanks seems fair. But instead of counting, you’re going to say one good thing about yourself. Am I clear, little one?”

“Yes, master.” He hummed his approval before repositioning me, moving me so that I wasn’t laying on the bed anymore, but across his knees, my glistening pussy visible to his greedy eyes.

Slap! One. I count in my head, a habit I couldn’t break. “I am smart.”

Slap! This time to my left cheek. Two. “I am beautiful.”

Slap! Center. Three. “I am worthy.”

Slap! Left cheek. Four. “I am valuable.”

Slap! He hit my pussy this time. Five. “I am important.”

“Good girl,” he praised. “Half way there.” Slap! This one connected to my lower back. His touch on the scars sent shivers across me. He was replacing Eric’s touch with his own. Making me feel clean. Finally.

Six. “I am lovable.”

Slap! Slap! Slap! Right. Left. Center. Seven. Eight. Nine. “I am exquisite.” I was desperately trying to remember the words he used to praise me because I couldn’t come up with any on my own. “I am flawless. Stubborn,” I croaked out. He chuckled at the last one.

I felt him pull his hand back as he landed the last blow to my exposed pussy. The orgasm that overtook me came out of nowhere. Ten! “I am perfect,” I said after my orgasm finishesd coursing through me. He said the word at the same time I did.

Lifting me off of him, he laid me on my back on the bed. Roughly, he pushed my thighs apart before dropping his mouth to my pussy. His hands hold my thighs apart, pinning them to the mattress while he eats me like I’m his favorite meal, like he’s never tasted anything as sweet as me. His tongue lapped at my folds, exploring them thoroughly while he moved one of his hands so that his fingers could trace torturously slow circles around my clit.

“You’re perfect. So fucking perfect,” he said when he pulled his mouth away for the shortest moment.

“Master!” I cried out for him as he pushed his fingers deeper inside me and wrapped his lips around my clit. “I’m going to come.”

“You still don’t need permission. Come for me, little one.”

My eyes closed as wave after wave of euphoria washed over me. I lost all sense of time as I was pulled into the darkness, where all I know is pleasure and safety. In the fogginess of my mind, I felt master pull away from me. I was left cold without him, but he returned quickly. Gently, he washed me with a warm cloth before settling behind me in the bed. I heard his appreciative murmurs and compliments as he held me close. I did good. I’m beautiful. Somewhere along the way, I started to believe them.

I didn’t know how long I was out for but when I come to, Master was still holding me close. “Welcome back,” he smiled. “Drink this,” he said, handing me a bottle of water and helping me sit up. I took slow sips, to which I saw him nod his approval. “Eat,” he said, handing me a plate of cut up fruit. I ate slowly and methodically.

“How are you feeling?” He asked. Tears filled my eyes at his question. I should have told him I didn’t do casual play. I found the experience far too intimate to be shared with someone I have no feelings for. “Shhh. I know. I know.”

He rocked me as I go through the sub drop I’d been expecting. Too many emotions flying at me from all over the place had me experiencing a drop like I never had before.

“I don’t do casual play either, little one.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?”

“You’re very easy for me to read,” he smiled.

“Do you want a contract then?” I asked.

“No. I don’t think we need one. I’d like to take you on a date.”

“A vanilla date?”

“The date may be vanilla, but the ending might not be,” he said wickedly, making my insides clench for him. “Pleasuring you has been very pleasurable for me. And I’d like to keep doing it.” I was quiet, focusing on the plate of food still in front of me. “You don’t need to tell me what you’ve been through. I’m smart enough to put the pieces together. If you want to tell me, you can. Just know that I’ll wait as long as it takes for you to be ready to take things a step further.” I smiled softly at him, tilting my head up to look at him.

“So, a vanilla date,” I smiled.

He grinned back at me, green eyes sparkling.

Author’s Note

The remaining chapters of this book are exclusive to my Patreon and then being published. Available on diamond tier:

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