Total pages in book: 72
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 66074 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 330(@200wpm)___ 264(@250wpm)___ 220(@300wpm)
But it’s after that the magic happens. Along with his genius-level IQ, he has a photographic memory. Reading that instruction manual all the way through, it’s now saved inside his computer mind as if his eyes were a scanner. And he can put whatever it is together without glancing at the directions ever again.
And he’s doing that same thing with the card I made him.
So I force myself to relax and wait patiently for him to do his thing.
Because I know when he’s done…
Magic will happen once again.
CHAPTER 15
Seven
Taking hold of the remote, I slide the card back inside the envelope and walk over to the trunk to set it next to my doll’s things. I use the time it takes to close the distance between us to let this side of me fully override my being.
Since I met Twyla, the part of me known as Seven hasn’t come out to play, not completely. Those sadistic urges that were once the entree of my sexual appetite have barely registered as an a la carte side dish for the past several years, a different craving—one focused on bringing overwhelming pleasure to the woman I love—taking over as the main meal.
But along with that, other parts of my domination have softened. Too much so. Everything I’ve heard and read and learned today has shown me that, loud and clear. And while I’ve enjoyed living in this gentler embodiment—so much I could live the rest of my life this way and never feel like it’s lacking—a larger, deeper part of me is making itself known. Unfurling. Stretching its legs. Cracking its stiff joints back into working order.
I can’t help but acknowledge that I feel more like myself in this moment than I have in years.
And it has nothing to do with sadism.
Gone are those urges. Possibly forever. Since sadism means one gains sexual pleasure from the act of inflicting pain on another person, I can say with complete certainty that I am no longer a sadist. I’m downright allergic to the idea of hurting my little doll.
But what I’ve been since becoming a husband and father was not Seven-minus-sadism. The Dominant I’ve been has lacked far more than that. I also haven’t been a disciplinarian. I haven’t been a teacher who pushes his pupil to excel rather than merely pass the course. I haven’t demanded… ruled… dominated my submissive. My commands have been more like suggestions. My orders more like requests.
But I’m not disappointed in myself when it comes to this change. When our relationship began, Twyla was a virgin. In fact, she was innocent in more ways than just being sexually untouched. BDSM was a whole new world to her, one that would’ve blown her mind to the point of refusing to understand it and running far, far away had she not been such an intelligent and adaptable person. And the second my soul recognized hers as its other half, my whole Seven persona had to become adaptable as well—something it had never needed to be before.
Because if Vanillas were in one hand and Kinksters in the other, Twyla would’ve been sitting up on the shoulder, looking down at everyone and asking what the fuck they were talking about. To my sheltered doll, vanilla was just an ice-cream flavor, and kink had something to do with curly hair.
So without doing it on purpose, and without much internal pushback, I slid down that scale from Dominant to Vanilla like my ass was on a three-story staircase banister, my balls slamming into a pineapple-shaped decorative finial somewhere around the halfway mark.
In other words, if my Dominant side were an HVAC system, I dialed the heat aaall the way back to Low, to the degree right before the cold air would kick on.
In other words, I was one step away from becoming just a dude who liked enthusiastic lovemaking that included teammates.
Teammates being toys. Because only insecure little fuckboys see toys as intimidating, instead of a way to bring their woman even more pleasure than one mere mortal can deliver on his own.
But this mere mortal has finally realized that my sweet, innocent submissive wife no longer needs a Level One Dom. In fact, after what she wrote in her card, she needs a far more advanced Dominant than even the kinkiest, most sadist motherfucker this lifestyle has ever seen.
She needs a Dom worthy of a sub with no limits.
She needs Seven.
The real Seven.
The one who’s not lacking past roles but who’s focusing on the ones his submissive needs most.
I’m not old Seven minus sadism.
I’m Seven—the old one, plus a heart.
And that heart stands inside a cardboard box only a foot away.
I smirk, reading over the words written on the right flap. “Seth’s Doll, hmm?” I purr, reaching up and using my pointer finger to trace an X over the name. “Well… I hope he doesn’t mind sharing his birthday present, because it’s my birthday too.”