Above me, he continues to pace.
“Thomas Kinkade, the actions here are my own. There is a gym down the street when we are done here. Now sit.” I pull on the last bit of my reserves to issue the command with strength.
“You are in no position…” he starts.
“Do you believe a Dominant on their knees is less respectable than a submissive in the same place?” Dominick interjects.
“Yes, because there is no such thing as a Dominant who kneels.”
“Then you are a fool, and I do not suffer such well. Now sit. We will discuss your actions and words shortly.”
“I do not need you to fight my battles,” I growl.
Dominick’s head whips around.
“I note your continued lack of humility, girl.” The underlying kindness in his tone is gone.
“Now, if you two are done being children, shall we solve this mess?”
“Kade, your vehement expression of Atlas’ position surprises me and runs counter to the training I thought you received. Maybe you also need a lesson in humility, but it will need to wait for another day,” Dominick says to Kade and motions him to the chair next to him.
Kade pauses. An audible sigh escapes him. Then he nods his head in deference and returns to his seat.
“Please accept my humble apologies for my lack of control… Sir.”
“You know the expectation, Kade, and the price.”
Kade nods.
“As far as a Dominant on their knees—they lose nothing through submission. In my house, I use penance and corporal mortification to clear the mind and calm a person to create a greater self-awareness. A way to assuage emotions, battle their own internal demons, and pay for their slights against another human. Atlas was trained in this way. It matters not the fact she is dominant. She is human. In so, the emotions and tubulations she feels are powerful forces, as are those of all humans. This is a way to expel them from her own den of inner demons, battle them, and rid them from her world.”
“I’ve never seen this or heard her say anything about it. She didn’t train me this way,” Kade spits.
“Respect, boy. You will show it or I will dismiss you from my household,” Dominick warns.
“This ritual is paramount to being sacred, though I am surprised to hear she did not train you in the same way. Ultimately, the fault for that is on me.” Dominick exhales, then continues. “It is not for show. This interaction is private. It humbles, give a place for open obedience and submission. You must understand the privilege you are allowed in being here. If you were not important to her, this would not be happening.”
“Why in the world would a Dominant ever submit? Doesn’t it go against the concept of dominance?” Kade sighs and looks down at me. It is softer but clearly confused.
“Dominance and submission are but a hair’s breadth away, one from the other. Everyone submits to someone. How this is fulfilled differs from one person to another. Someone unable to be in a humbled position is not a person of strength and to submit is not one of weakness. Neither does it make them any higher or lower to do so. A person’s ‘status’ is based on the person’s interactions with others.”
“You said she did this to herself.”
Dominick nods.
"It is her penance. She comes to confess. To relieve the burdens she carries. In return, I give her a way to clear her own path and physically pay for the errors of her ways. The results of each penance she's endured so far, she did to herself—alone. Isn't that right, girl?"
Chapter Six
Both sets of eyes turn.
“Yes, Sir.” I nod, sitting up straighter.
“Explain to your former submissive why you are here.”
I shift on my knees. The bruises from the rice bloom in pain, while the weights of the shackles and the friction points they’ve worn also make themselves known. Kade and I’ve shared so much, but this secret feels almost too personal.
“The world is too heavy,” I state. A fact I did not fully realize until I uttered it. “Contrary to my name, or because of it, there are times I need to put the world down. I take responsibility for things at every turn and in my secrets, I am alone. Many people know parts, but no one knows all. In this place, I can set it down. I am safe and taken to task for my faults. It may sound like an oxymoron, but it is what I know and what I need. For weeks, I wandered alone. The longer I did, the more guilt I felt until I no longer knew how to get back home. So I came to the only place that made sense.”
“But I’m always by your side, Atlas. You’ve got me and Samantha.” The hurt in Kade’s voice nearly breaks me.
“You are both amazing, but look what happened. I blew it. Samantha stepped away. She needs to spread her wings. You were focused on keeping the club safe. Besides, you both deserve to focus on your own lives. I am responsible for my world. The success of the PR firm, the club, my book sales. The list feels endless, but it is my job, and I wouldn’t trade it. But one major threat and look at me, I suddenly cannot cope,” I confess.
“It would take anyone sideways.” Kade’s voice works to soothe.
“What about Reece?” Dominick inserts into the conversation.
“What about him, Sir? He’s gone and I can’t imagine he’ll breathe my name, outside a curse, for a long time.”
“That’s not true,” Kade says. “He’s worried sick about you. Blaming himself for pushing you away and exploding in your office.”
“Do you love him, Atlas?” Dominick asks.
Flashes of our time together filter across my mind, and I smile. It is the first genuine one in weeks.
“I believed it to be possible,” I reply without commitment. “He may not return the feeling. To be in that position of my life is a hard task; I do not wish it upon anyone.”
“Where do we go from here?” Kade asks out loud.
“Shall we continue your confession, girl?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“How long has it been since your last true confession?” Dominick asks, ending all other discussion.
“Five years, Sir, for even in my last attempt I did not confess from a point of contrition.”
“Shall we begin?”
For the next hour, I confess my ‘sins’ and fears. Among them sit my dishonesty by an omission in entering Dominick’s house and lack of training Kade fully in our tradition. I pour out the fear which made me run, and the threats made against everyone I loved. In the end, I am kneeling before them both, drained.
“I believe that is enough for one evening,” Dominick finally says.
“In these things I confess and ask you guidance in redeeming the mind through the penance of the body to focus self. Your guiding hand gives me the strength to know excellence is not an accident. It results from high intention, sincere effort, and intelligent execution. Determining destiny by choice not by chance, through the wise choice of many alternatives. I give to you my willingness to take your council and follow the immediate path to find wisdom in my constant strive for such excellence,” I chant.
“Do you seek and accept the penance offered by those you kneel before?” Dominick asks.
“I do.”
“Your penance will serve as a reminder that inward pain causes outward pain to others when you hide yourself. To this end, you will suffer for your many omissions and lies which violate the foundational trust of every power exchange relationship you’ve held, both personally and professionally. It is a thing to keep the secrets of self, it is another to create a situation where a lack of information can cause irreparable damage and take the decisions from those who would have free will. You are found wanting and lacking in these areas,” Dominick pronounces.
“Tonight, your body will pay for that which your mind withheld. Each count will mark upon you a reminder of the very foundation of your world. It will shore up the cracks and offer a road to repair. In addition, it will help complete the training of our tradition which you failed to impart.”
I watch Domin
ick walk across the room. He opens the lock on a cabinet near the wall and removes something from it. As he walks back, my eyes drop to the object in his hand. The intake of air is pure fear. The black whip uncurls when he releases his fingers.
“I presume you know how to use one of these,” he says, handing it to Kade.
“Yes, but…” Kade starts.
“There’s a target on the wall to the left. Please show me.”
Kade flicks his wrist and the tip of the whip lands on the bulls-eye.
“Very good.” Dominick nods and turns to me.
“Your penance is fifty strikes, which Kade will deliver. His failure to do so in an appropriate manner will ensure the number is doubled and I will deliver the second one. Am I clear?”
“Yes, Sir.” Our voices chime in unison but I cannot meet Kade’s eyes.
No one speaks as we make our way to Dominick’s room of torment. A place where punishment and pleasure are carried out for the beauty of pleasure mixed with pain to create a mutual satisfaction.
In front of me, the short single tail whip swings loosely at Kade’s side. Many times before, the whip swung from my hand as I prepared to give Kade what he needed to release his own demons.
When we enter the room, the sound of shackle chains bounce off the walls.
“Kneel in front of the whipping post, girl,” Dominick’s voice commands from behind me.
I shuffle to the piece of equipment and struggle to kneel without help. Once in position, Dominick binds my ankles to the stand. The rough sackcloth lifts over my head and hangs limply around my wrists. Wrist shackles are pulled through the neck hole and fastened to the post. In every way I am exposed.
Before I catch my breath, the tail of the whip bites against my skin. It takes everything I have not to scream. Every muscle tenses in revolution. I will my body to relax, but it refuses.
“Breathe, Atlas,” Kade coaches behind me, his tone confident and even. The irony of our reversed positions adds to the intensity of the situation.
I breathe in. The next strike punishes my back and I bite back the scream.
“Relax into it,” he says with more command but doesn’t let up on the strikes.
Each one is timed to let the sharpness of the pain barely dissipate before the next one marks its place on my skin.
My fingers ball up and flex to give me something on which to focus. Sweat forms across my body.
“You need to give in to it. Let it take you down. Feed all of your sins to the pain.” I hear him behind me.
So many times I’ve watched as he’s taken the strikes from my whip, I never imagined I’d be in this position.
No two strikes are in the same place. They do not stray high or low.
The next one streaks across my back and slices the flesh. I scream. The only result is an increase in ferocity and focus. Kade no longer lets me collect myself after each one.
They land in quick succession. Tears roll down my face.
I rock my body to lessen pain by the smallest increments, but it doesn’t help. Muscles across my body twitch and flex.
The harshness of the lashes makes me pull toward the post.
“I can’t…” I pant.
“You can and you will,” Dominick says from behind me.
Next to my ear the whip cracks and I jump at the sound.
“Focus. Breathe through each one. Relax your body.” Kade’s words are steel, yet each one is laced with a calm, steady care.
My mind races against the onslaught.
More strikes rain down on me, and I lose count. Screams and sobs echo off the walls as my body pays the price for my confession. There is nothing stoic about my penance. Emotions rush forward, expressing themselves in the agony.
My body sags against the post, no longer able to hold itself upright. Acceptance takes hold, and my body releases its own relief. The last strikes lash against my body. A shudder releases my held breath.
Hands disconnect the shackles from the post. My head touches the floor. Sobs rock through me until they turn to a rain of tears. When there’s nothing left to give, hands work on my back.
Salve is pressed into the wounds I know are present. A large bandage is applied over the area. The sackcloth lowers back into place.
Two chairs are pulled in front of me. Kade and Dominick take their respective places.
I work to control my breath. My muscles tense as I pull myself up. A hiss counteracts the pain of each movement.
On my hands and knees, I push forward. Pins and needles stab at my legs and feet as the circulation returns. With an effort, I crawl to Kade’s feet.
My head lifts to look up until my eyes meet his. It is impossible to look away from his hard gaze.
“Head down,” Kade commands.
“As you’ve come before us, contrite in your desire to seek reparations for your ‘sins,’ know you are forgiven. Now, properly thank Kade for his attention in this matter.”
My head bends until my lips are right above the toe of his boot. There they hover as I wait.
“You must give her permission,” Dominick prompts.
The harsh intake of breath from Kade rushes a thousand thoughts through me. I count my breaths to hold myself steady. As I approach a hundred, I hear his voice above me.
“You may.” His voice is firm.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
My lips brush the edge of each of Kade’s boots without marring the high shine. Then I maneuver my body to repeat the process for Dominick.
“You are not yet worthy,” I hear him say above me. The simple words rip through me in a way the pain of the whip could never do. I crawl back until my forehead touches the floor.
“Thank you for your council, time, focus, and consideration in this my confession,” I say into the carpet below me.
“Do you believe her confession has relieved her of the shackles upon her inner mind enough to relieve her outer body?” I hear Dominick ask Kade.
“I believe she’s paid a high enough price,” Kade replies, his voice unsure.
“That is not the question. Do you think she’s learned from her penance?”
“I do.”
“Then, if you choose, you may release her from the weight of her own bondage.”
Above me, I hear the rattle of keys.
“Kneel up,” Kade commands. The shackles on my wrists fall away.
Chapter Seven
The morning light casts a line across my eyes, and I blink against the assault. I stretch and immediately regret it. Pain shoots through the muscles in my back and the skin stretches across the wounds. My body aches from sleeping in a limited position. A moan escapes my lips to release the tension. With an effort, I swing my legs over the bed.
There is no breakfast on my desk. At the thought my stomach growls and begs for anything to help it settle. Even unshackled, my body is feeble in its attempt to move. I shuffle to the desk for water. The cool liquid is exquisite on my tongue. With greed I drink it down in large gulps.
Locks on the doors click and I jump at the sound. The movement causes the whip marks to ignite.
Ana walks into the room. She dashes my hopes for a reprieve on food when I realize her hands are empty.
“Master says it is time for you to purify yourself. I prepared an Epsom salt bath for you. Please follow me,” she says and turns down the hall.
Her words penetrate my mind and an audible groan slips between my lips. While the Epsom salt bath will soothe the aching muscles, the payment will lace pain when the water hits the open wounds.
I gather myself and follow Ana down the hallway.
We turn and walk into the large guest bathroom. Dominick was always fond of being able to play or give discipline wherever and whenever it was deemed necessary. Every bathroom in the house is equipped and sized appropriately.
The large soaking tub emits columns of steam. My muscles tense at the soothing concept but stop short in anticipation of the payment.
Ana reache
s over to help me remove the sackcloth. Then she pulls on the edge of the bandage and removes it.
For a long moment, I stare at the bath.
Beside me, I hear Ana give an exasperated sigh.
“It seems I am not the only one who needs to learn patience and humility,” I comment as I sit on the edge of the tub and swing my legs into the water.
“I don’t even understand why you are here,” she says openly.
“Careful, girl, I am still a guest and a Dominant in this household.” My voice is monotone without emotion or inflection.
With care, I lower my body into the water and let out a hiss as the Epsom saltwater works its way up my back.
“Based on what I’ve seen, I think you are deluding yourself. Master would never treat another Dominant like he’s treating you.” Her free conversation confirms the fact that she sees me as an equal or subordinate.
“You’ve much to learn,” I comment. Everything in me fights against the pain. With care, I wash my body with handmade soap. It is a luxury I’ve not enjoyed for the past several months. Even with the discomfort, being able to take time to stop is a relief all its own.
“Obviously not from you,” she says and rolls her eyes.
“I’ll remind you of that one day,” I reply and sink down into the water.
My body retaliates from the bath in some ways, while in others, tension I did not know I carried is melted away. Once the bath is complete, I shower to wash my hair and rinse away the dredges of my penance.
Drops pound across my face and chest as I move to keep the rain of water off my back. After nearly drowning myself twice, I finally finish washing and conditioning my hair. When the water turns off, Ana magically appears.
“Please sit.” Her voice is kinder. The look in her eyes is pure confusion. I want to smirk. Instead I let my eyes cast down in false submission and sit at the vanity.
Behind me, Ana works on styling my hair. The sound of the dryer lulls against my senses. My mind is an odd dichotomy of pushing against the events of the last several days and relaxing into the expert hands behind me. With an effort, I close my eyes and give in to the moment.
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