Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
She was out of the car and heading toward the door before he’d even climbed out. He grabbed her duffel from the back seat and strode after her.
They entered the house through the mudroom. As Damon watched Ellen slip out of her coat and remove her sneakers and socks, he resisted the sudden, ridiculous urge to pull her into his arms and kiss her. He really needed to get the hell out of there before he did something really stupid.
Ellen turned to leave but then stopped suddenly. Pivoting toward him, she dropped gracefully to her knees. She looked so lovely kneeling there, her posture straight, her full, luscious breasts beckoning to him.
She looked up at him, a play of emotions moving over her face—sorrow, longing, hope? “Excuse me, Sir. That was disrespectful of me before.” Her dark blue eyes filled with sudden tears. Blinking them away, she continued, “It’s just… It’s hard…”
He hated to think he was the cause of her pain. He wanted to comfort her, to offer her promises he knew he couldn’t keep. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came.
She leaned forward suddenly, bending to brush his boot with her lips. When she lifted her head again, her expression was composed.
“Thank you, Master Damon, for everything,” she said, meeting his gaze with a lift of her chin. “I have greatly enjoyed serving you this week, Sir. It was… You were…” She trailed off again, her eyes sliding away from his. Then she shook her head, looking almost angry for a moment, though whether at him or herself he wasn’t sure. She blew out a breath and blurted, “Just, thank you.”
Before he could respond, she jumped up, rushed out of the mudroom and disappeared down a set of stairs. It wasn’t quite the goodbye he’d been hoping for. What had he been hoping for? He honestly didn’t know.
Bemused, he made his way down the hall. He had texted beforehand that they were on their way, and Anthony had asked Damon to drop by his office when they arrived.
The dungeon doors were open as Damon passed by. He could hear the sound of someone barking, “Harder. Whip her harder. I want to see welts. And you, suck that cock like you mean it.”
Imagine training willing, eager sub girls for a living? Talk about doing what you loved… He resisted the urge to step inside and watch the action.
Instead, he made his way to Anthony’s office. The door was ajar. Anthony was at his desk, his laptop in front of him, his face a study of concentration. Damon tapped lightly on the door frame and Anthony looked up.
“Ah, Damon,” he said with a smile. “Please, come in. Sit down.”
As Damon came into the room, Anthony rose and stepped from behind his desk. He was elegantly dressed as usual, in a black cashmere sweater over gray trousers, Italian loafers on his feet. He waved Damon toward a conversational seating area that consisted of several chairs and a sofa. As Anthony slid into a chair, Damon took the seat across from him.
“Can I send for anything?” Anthony asked. “Coffee? Something to eat?”
“No, thanks,” Damon said. “I can’t stay long. I just wanted to stop by and thank you again for this amazing opportunity. Beyond your incredible hospitality, the past week has definitely been the most intense BDSM experience of my life. Ellen was amazing. She exceeded my expectations as a submissive. She taught me things I didn’t know I needed to learn.”
Anthony smiled. “I’m delighted to hear it. If I may ask, what did she teach you, exactly?”
“This whole no safeword thing. I didn’t get it at first.” Damon glanced away, still remorseful for how he’d missed Ellen’s cues that first time he had her in the stockade. Forcing his gaze back to Anthony, he continued, “I had this idea that, as a Dom, I could do whatever I wanted within negotiated limits. I always figured it was up to the sub to let me know if things got too intense by using her safeword.”
Anthony nodded. “Safewords are definitely useful, even essential, during casual scene play.” He fixed Damon with a penetrating gaze. “Reading between the lines, I’m guessing something might have happened, something that would have triggered a safeword in someone not trained as an Enclave slave?”
“Yeah,” Damon admitted. “I put her in a situation that pressed her boundaries. I knew she was having a hard time but I figured she’d stop the action with her safeword if things got too intense.”
“And that didn’t happen,” Anthony said, not asking but confirming.
“Right,” Damon admitted. “She was white-knuckling her way through it when it finally dawned on me that she wasn’t going to use her safeword, period. At first, I was pissed off that she’d let it go so far. But I’ve come to understand that removing that safety net isn’t just about the slave, but about the Master, too. Especially about the Master, if you get down to it. It puts the onus where it should be—squarely on his shoulders. It’s up to him to really pay attention—to be in tune with his submissive in a way I never experienced during scene play in the past. I think it has made me a better Dom. At least, I hope so.”