by Ivory Quinn
“I can’t.” She was shaking all over and he shook his head.
“He really did a number on you, didn’t he?” Without waiting for an answer, he unfolded them for her, pulling her top away and tossing it to the floor. Without ogling her, or making her feel in any way shameful, he sank to his knees and set to work on her jeans. It was like reverting to childhood, being undressed by her parents. He was behaving in an entirely non-sexual way and it confused the hell out of her. She steadied her hands on his shoulders as he lifted her feet out of her jeans, one after the other. Her socks followed next and then his hands rested on her hips. “I need you to trust me or this isn’t going to work.” He looked her right in the eye. “I want to help you, Noelle. I’ve never lost anyone yet.”
She closed her eyes. It was crazy, but she believed him. She tried to find something, anything, she had to lose, but the truth was that there was nothing. She had nothing to lose. She was already damaged and broken. There was no way back for her, no way to put the lid back on Pandora’s box. If there was any chance, any chance at all, that this man could help her, she had to trust him.
“Fine.” She whispered. “I trust you.”
“Good.” She didn’t open her eyes as he slid her briefs down her hips and lifted her feet out of those too. She held her breath when he removed her bra and waited in tense silence for the first command that she was certain would come. When nothing was said, she risked taking a peek, only to see him pulling open the door of the wardrobe to reveal a full length mirror. He gestured for her to come over and positioned her in front of the mirror. “What do you see?” He asked, coming behind her to study her reflection.
“I see us.” She frowned, not understanding.
“I see a broken woman, Noelle. Look at you – you’re beautiful.” He lifted up the mass of her auburn hair. “This colour is gorgeous. I know women that pay a fortune to get hair like this at a salon and it never captures its true beauty.” Large hands moved in front of her face to frame her eyes. “You have exquisite eyes. They’re so piercing and haunted. They were the first thing I noticed about you when I walked into the study. They could knock a man dead at two hundred paces. You have spectacular breasts.” He framed them between his arms. “They’re lush and full and the perfect size.” His hands fell away. “I’m not going to list all your wonderful features because the truth is that you don’t see them. You’re broken inside. There’s something in your soul that’s been smothered.” She met his eyes in the mirror and he smiled. “Luckily, healing souls is my speciality. So today we’re going to do something of a baptism. I’m going to leave you standing here while I go run us a bath. While I’m gone, I want you to study yourself. I want you to examine every flaw and every imperfection, every tiny little thing you hate about yourself. When I come back, you are going to walk away from this mirror and leave it all behind. You’re changing, Noelle. Gabriel started your metamorphosis, but I’m going to make you a butterfly. Your old life is over. Here and now is where a new life begins.”
He walked away, leaving her staring at the mirror in confusion. It didn’t work like that. You couldn’t just catalogue your flaws and then walk away from them. If she thought her hips were fat now, they weren’t going to be any skinnier when she walked away from the mirror. What was he expecting of her? Her eyes travelled over her small frame and tears pricked at them. How had Gabriel seen her? Had he seen all her flaws or had he just picked out the nice bits like Blue had? What did it even matter? He was dead and it still hurt to breathe. She was the bitch that had driven him to his suicide and there was no amount of prettifying that could change that.
Cal’s words came back to her...that Gabriel had chosen her deliberately because she was naive. She thought of her epiphany...that his actions had been so calculated to force her to submit without using her safe word. She still couldn’t feel any anger towards him for what he had done while he was alive, but perhaps Master Henway was right. Was she judging herself too harshly? Did she have double standards? No...she had nothing in her life that forced her to be a victim to Gabriel. She had gone into it with her eyes wide open and just allowed him to own her absolutely. That was the difference between them – he’d had no choice in what was done to him. She had.
She was lost in contemplation when Blue returned and jumped when he laid his hands gently on her shoulders. “I’ve never understood why people say that beauty is only skin deep.” He remarked, studying their reflection in the mirror. He towered over her by at least a foot and was so big that she didn’t even cover the full width of his chest. “True beauty comes from deep within. It’s built on belief, confidence and kindness.”
“Kindness?” She met his eyes. “I thought we were here because I want to control people?”
“The kindness is in asking for help.” He replied thoughtfully. “You could have turned into another Gabriel – indiscriminately destroying because it makes you happy – but you didn’t. You came here for a safe and sane way to let it out. You’ve done a great kindness to all your future subs.” His hands slid down her arms and pulled her hands together with his. “We’re mostly kind people. We give our subs what they need and then afterwards we care and protect for them. It’s not an easy job. Were you not cared for after you went into subspace?”
She jerked. “How did you know about that?”
“I’ve read your file.” He shrugged. Jax must have told them...no-one except he and Gabriel had known the details of that hellish week after the last time she’d been in the play room, and Gabriel certainly wasn’t telling anyone.
“Yes I was cared for.” She remembered how Jax had carefully washed her and given her painkillers, how he’d spent hours and hours lying there holding her while she wept and shook. The panic attacks, the depression...he had carefully nurtured her through all of it. Was that the role of a Dom? Why hadn’t Gabriel done that for her? The answer came as soon as she thought of the question – because he’d refused to accept the training. He didn’t understand the mechanics and fallout of subspace. He’d panicked and called in the cavalry. Where had his kindness been?
Deeply troubled, she allowed Blue to lead her into a luxurious bathroom. Expensive travertine tiles, shot through with streaks of bronze, were built up to form a bath that looked like it could fit eight people in it. “Get in.” He released her hands and gently shoved her towards the steps leading up to the bath. “I checked the temperature. It won’t scald you.”
She hesitantly climbed the steps and dipped her toe beneath the surface. It was pleasantly hot, so she carefully stepped down into it. The water was milky with some sort of essence and, as she waded into the centre of the bath, clouds of fragrant steam rose around her. The scent was heady and exotic, swarming all of her senses. As she sank into the warmth up to her neck, she closed her eyes and drifted.
“I’m going to touch you.” Blue said gently, settling in the bath behind her.
“Oh!” She jumped away, startled, but he caught her easily and she made herself relax as he turned her, easily lifting and floating her weight in the water.
“I didn’t mean to surprise you.” He smiled. “I wasn’t sure if you were asleep.”
“If I was asleep I’d have been floating like a starfish.” She managed drily. “What’s in the water? It smells amazing.”
“It’s a special powder Master Henway commissions for all of his clubs. I’ll get you a couple of boxes to take home.”
She’d been so caught up in the smell and the warmth that it came as a shock when she connected with Blue and realised she was alone in a bath with a very big, very naked, outrageously handsome stranger. She tensed and tried to pull away, but his arms were firm around her waist.
“Open your legs and sit in my lap.” He commanded her. “I’m not going to take advantage of you, Noelle. I’m not going to touch you in any way you don’t want me to. We’re just going to sit here and talk until you’re comfortable with nudity.”
“But-...”
“Noelle.” H
e growled warningly and the note of command in his voice could not be disobeyed. An image of herself tied up and submitting to this man flashed through her thoughts and her throat went dry. Forcing herself to relax, she allowed him to move her around in the water until they were pressed almost nose to nose, with her legs around his surprisingly narrow waist. “So what kind of counselling are you doing?” He asked, as though the situation was perfectly normal. His arms settled loosely around her waist and she reached up and rested her arms atop his. It seemed the most neutral place to put them.
“Um...” She shook her head. This was surreal. She was naked in a bath with a stranger and they were going to talk about her counselling sessions. “She said something about cognitive behavioural therapy.” She tried to gather her thoughts and ignore the gleaming bronze chest that was only inches from her face. “I’m supposed to be recognising thought patterns and accepting that they’re unhealthy.”
“No wonder it’s not working.” He chuckled, sending the water all about them rippling. “You can’t think your way out of this one.”
“In her defence, I haven’t told her about the dreams.” Noelle admitted. “She doesn’t know the whole of what she’s trying to fix.”
“A good counsellor should have guessed.” He disagreed. “Anyway, you’re here now.” His hand ran subconsciously up and down the small of her back and she fought the urge to lean into it like a cat. “Your training here will take two paths. Every day you’ll have a session with Master Henway, working through the thought patterns you’ve built up around your emotions. Then you’re mine for the rest of the day.”
“And what will you do to me?” She looked up into his eyes. They were a deep, deep shade of chocolate, so dark they were almost black.
“I’m going to teach you to own who and what you are.” He leaned back against the edge of the bath. “The thing with being a Dom is that it’s all about trust. Your subs need to trust you, you need to trust them and, above all, you need to trust yourself. It’s not something you can grow overnight. I bet you were looking in that mirror and thinking to yourself that you’re going to be just as imperfect, just as flawed when you get out of this bath as you were when you got in it?” She blushed, acknowledging that he was right. “Here’s the thing about changing.” He pressed her to him until she was lying flat against his chest, uncomfortably aware that her bare breasts were pressed to his skin. “You pretend something enough times and eventually it becomes habit, it becomes real. Noelle Winters may have climbed into this bath, but someone else entirely is going to climb out of it.”
Chapter four
“What do you mean?” She asked, not really sure she understood what he was driving at. How was she supposed to be a different person getting out of the bath?
“You’re going to make up a persona, your dominatrix.” He explained. “She’s going to be sexy and confident and, however you feel inside, you’re going to fake it like your life depends on it. At first it’s going to feel like a mask you put on when you need some release. Then it’s going to become comfortable, like a favourite outfit. Then, one day, you’re going to wake up and realise you’re the same person. You merged without even realising it.”
“What if I can’t act very well?” The idea seemed so crazy that she couldn’t decide what to think about it.
“You’ll learn. It gets easier as time goes on.” He sighed happily, resting his head on the edge of the bath. “It’s a shame you have top tendencies. This is my favourite thing to do with my subs after a scene.”
“Cuddle them naked in the bath?” She snorted, amused despite herself.
“It’s a nice way to wind down.” He shrugged, moving on. “The first thing we need for you is a new name. It helps with the new you.” She thought about her life and realised she couldn’t think of a single thing to give her a nickname. That thought was almost more depressing than anything that came before.
“How about Mistress Wallpaper?” She suggested miserably. “Or Mistress Beige, since that seems to be the colour of my life lately.” He roared with laughter, sending water sloshing everywhere. “It wasn’t that funny.” She pushed back from his chest and glared at him and he tried to swallow his chuckles.
“I thought it was. And we’re not calling you Beige.” He snagged a strand of her hair from where it was floating on the surface of the water and rubbed it between his fingers. “What about Red?” He suggested. “Has all the right connotations.”
“Wouldn’t people think I was trying to do a his’n’hers with you?” A crease appeared between her brows and he brushed it away with a firm finger.
“Who gives a fuck?” He shrugged. “Mistress Red sure as hell doesn’t, and anyone that wants to question her can come to her playroom and try telling her to her face.”
“Mistress Red.” She tried it out, doubtfully. It had a certain ring to it and he was right – red symbolised a lot of things.
“Come on, Red.” He purred. “Once more with feeling.” She felt heat spreading up her neck at the sudden change in atmosphere.
“Mistress Red.” She said more firmly. “I like it.”
“Matches that pretty blush of yours.” The water swirled as he lifted a hand to trace her collarbone, sending undercurrents rippling against her suddenly sensitive nipples. “The Red I know is sexy and confident. She takes what she wants, with every expectation of being served and obeyed.”
“What happens when Red doesn’t know what she wants?”
“Red always knows what she wants.” He whispered, grasping her waist and pulling her to him so that their hips collided in a jolt. “And when Red doesn’t have any particular desire, she just rides the moment.”
Something in the warmth and the way he was looking at her made her bold. “What if Red decides she wants to be reckless?” She tilted her head slightly and he caught his breath.
“I’d say Red doesn’t have to ask permission.” Something moved between them and she glanced at the water, pleased that she’d ruffled his calm.
“What if Red wants to get fucked senseless?” She whispered and his jaw dropped.
“She only has to say the word.” His pupils dilated until his eyes were filled with a black, all consuming heat.
“I’ll bear that in mind.” She backed off slightly and he let out a rumbling chuckle that warmed her to the core.
“You play a dangerous game, Red.” He shook his head, catching her around the waist and pulling her back. “You’re not the only top in the room. What if Blue wants to fuck someone senseless?”
She put her hands on his chest. “Please don’t. There hasn’t been anyone since...” She trailed off and he froze.
“You haven’t fucked anyone since Gabriel?” He clarified and she shook her head. “Well that’s different. Before we get much deeper, you’re going to have to take care of that, Red. You need to know how you’re going to react.”
“It was too soon and I thought I’d have a panic attack.” She admitted, hanging her head. “Everything else seems to set it off. I freaked out putting socks on a couple of weeks ago.” She shuddered, remembering the moment. She’d bent over from standing and was suddenly back in the play room, suspended from the ballet bar and knowing she was about to be violated in the most uncomfortable way.
“Do you think Jax would see you through it?” He asked and she shrugged, unable to look at him.
“He would if I asked, but how can I? It would be beyond cruel, Blue. He’s in love with me. I can’t do that to him if I have no serious intention of committing to him.”
“And there’s no-one else?”
“Look at me.” She finally met his eyes, defiant and sad. “Do I look to you like someone that has a list of booty calls in her phone?”
“No.” A shadow passed across his face that looked a lot like sadness and then he sighed. “I’ll do it.”
“I don’t even know you!” She protested, face flaming, but he just shrugged.
“So? Red, I’m a professional. If you freak ou
t, there’s no-one better placed to deal with it than me. I’d like to think that we’ll stay in touch when your training is complete, but the truth is that you can walk away from here without a backward glance and I’ll let you go.”
“But I don’t...we’re not...you...you’re...” She stammered, trying to find words for her protests.
“I’m not a prostitute, if that’s what your concern is.” He said the words easily, as though they weren’t ugly. “If there’s one thing you need to learn about BDSM, it’s that it’s not all about sex.”
“It’s not?” She sounded so astonished that his lips twitched into a smile.
“No, it’s not. It’s about control. It’s about power. Most of my clients don’t go anywhere near my cock and, for the odd one or two that do...” He shrugged. “It’s detached. There’s no emotional attachment there – it’s just a physical release. If I force someone to suck it, it’s not because I want to come down their throat, it’s because I’m demonstrating my power over them by making them do something invasive. You need to learn to separate what you do here from what you do at home. If you and Jax, or anyone else for that matter, ever end up in a serious relationship, unless they want to be collared to you, these lives are entirely separate.” Still torn, she hesitated and he tilted her chin so she was looking at him again. “Red, Jax wouldn’t have sent you here without knowing that somewhere along the line sex would be involved. You’ve explained your dreams to him. He knows he can’t give you what you need.”
“How can sex be emotionally detached?”
“Stop thinking in terms of what you’ve been conditioned to believe and start looking at it scientifically. We’re animals, Red. We fuck people we’re genetically attracted to. Trying to make it nice and pretty is a societal condition.”
“Gabriel used to say the same thing.” She swallowed, remembering the conversation that had shocked her at first but had made such a profound difference to their relationship.