Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 66863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66863 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 334(@200wpm)___ 267(@250wpm)___ 223(@300wpm)
“What happened next?” I asked.
He cleared his throat. “Not much that day. On my end, I became even more obsessed with sexuality and the mind. I knew, at that moment, I would double major in psychology and sexual studies. He began to train me. I spent a year as a submissive to him, and a Dominant to his wife—under his watchful eye, of course.”
I nearly choked on my own tongue. I couldn’t imagine Kieran being submissive to anyone. “Wow…” I didn’t know what to say, I was speechless from his fascinating story. “You’ve been submissive?”
“I believe you have to be submissive to be a good Dominant. The way to learn is experience. Yes, part of it comes naturally. We’re all wired a certain way but it’s important to expand your experience. I spent a few months as a submissive to an incredible Dom, and then another man before I settled into my skin and learned more about myself. I’m a Dominant through and through, but I’m a Daddy even before that.”
A million questions rained down on me. I wanted to know everything about him. I wanted to soak it all in.
“Are you bisexual?” I asked.
“Yes,” he replied. “But I feel more of a pull toward men. Outside of a few situations, anyone I’ve played with more than once has been a man.”
I nodded, truly interested in everything he had to say. But there was something else weighing on my mind, a thought echoed through me as we sat here. “The whipping…is that something you typically do?”
I’d told him the idea of heavy pain didn’t appeal to me and it still didn’t…maybe. I frowned when I realized I was scratching behind my ear. I lowered my hand as he grinned.
“Yes. I do enjoy inflicting pain, but only if my boy enjoys receiving it. I’ve played with men where that was a heavy practice in our scenes.”
I swallowed around a lump in my throat wondering if he would want to do that with me, and wondering if it would be a deal breaker if I didn’t.
But did I really not want it? The truth was, I didn’t know.
I opened my mouth to let a question out but he shook his head. “That’s enough show and tell for me tonight. Finish eating and then it’s your turn to talk.”
I gulped, a cold shudder racing through me. I didn’t want to talk about myself. The thought nearly made me shove to my feet and race out of his condo as fast as I could.
“Trust me, boy,” Kieran said as though he could read my thoughts. “Daddy will take care of you.”
I looked down at my plate. My heart thundered in my ears, but I had to believe in him. I had to trust him. “Yes, Daddy.”
CHAPTER FIVE
We’d finished eating and I stared at the plates dreading that it was time to start talking about myself.
Kieran poured a second glass of wine for both of us. I stood, the cage suddenly feeling heavy on my dick, and grabbed our dishes to wash them.
“Leave them in the sink and come with me.”
“Yes, Sir,” I replied. Kieran grabbed our glasses of wine and went into the living room with me following him. He instructed me to sit on the couch, then handed me my drink before he sat in the chair.
“Do you have siblings?” he asked.
Way to cut to the chase.
I shifted, a low ache starting in my gut. The last thing in the world I wanted to discuss was my past. “Do we have to do this?” I asked.
“Yes,” he said simply and then sighed. “It’s important for me to understand you. To try and get your ticks. Maybe every Dom doesn’t work this way but they should. There’s not a damn thing you can say that I’ll judge you for.”
I nodded, knowing he wouldn’t and answered, “No, Sir.”
“You can skip Sir or Daddy for this conversation unless it makes you feel better to use them.”
I appreciated that. Kieran definitely thought of others. It wasn’t something I’d realized when we first began talking. I nodded and he asked, “Were you raised with your parents?”
“Raised is a very strong word for what they did with me.”
This time, he nodded. “Did they or anyone else abuse you?”
My stomach twisted into so many knots, I wasn’t sure it would ever be normal again. “It depends on your definition of abuse. There was no sexual abuse. I wasn’t beaten on a regular basis. There are people in the world who had it much worse than I had.”
“So?” he asked. “Don’t judge your life based on the parameters of someone else’s. We all have our own individual experiences. What doesn’t make sense to you, will make sense to someone else. What is hard for you, might not be hard for someone else. People struggle with opening their viewpoints and realizing that their actions and feelings aren’t right because they’re theirs. Humans don’t work that way. Now, please tell me about them.”