Total pages in book: 109
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 104165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 521(@200wpm)___ 417(@250wpm)___ 347(@300wpm)
“Ahh,” he says.
I frown. What’s that supposed to mean? Does that mean he’ll be more willing to share if I do what he wants? Gah. I just told myself fuck the past, but here I am waffling again.
“Take off that ridiculous outfit. Then up on the spanking bench.”
Double shit. It’s not like this nightie is any kind of real cover with my breasts exposed and no underwear on, but it’s still felt like… something. And the spanking bench. An unconscious little shudder goes through my body.
I remember all too well when I was last up there. But compliant pet is my M.O. today, so I unbutton the collar of the nightie and unzip the side, then slip out of it. I shiver a little and not because the nightie ever provided any warmth. Then I crawl up on the bench, arranging my limbs on the supports.
I’m in control. I’m in control. My cheeks flood with heat as I climb up on the strange piece of furniture that leaves me so exposed. Dammit, I’m in control—but my burning cheeks reveal my lie.
“W-what are you going to do?” I ask.
Domhnall has been moving around elsewhere in the room, and I suppose I should have expected the blindfold he’s carrying when he comes back.
“You’ll see. For this scene, since it requires touching, you may say red if you want it to stop.”
He doesn’t immediately blindfold me. He moves behind me, and his hand comes into view as he reaches around with what looks like a make-up wipe.
I’m so startled, I lay still as he begins carefully swiping the leftover make-up from the auction off my face. I’d scrubbed at some of it with the edge of my bedsheet over the last couple days, but I’ve been left feeling gross because I couldn’t get it all off. Especially the mascara. It’s just been crusted on my lashes.
My eyes fall closed as Domhnall swipes the make-up remover carefully over each eyelid several times, returning with a fresh wipe when one is dirtied. His hands caress the cool wipes over my cheeks. Then down the slope of my nose, careful with the nooks and crannies of my nostrils and mouth. Over and over, his gentle hands attend to me until my face finally feels clean. From the roots of my scalp at the top of my forehead to behind my ears and underneath my jaw. My pores can finally breathe.
Only then does he lower the blindfold, and I can tell he’s being careful not to tangle the back strap in my hair.
His hands return after a short pause, moving on to my neck. But where I expect another cool wipe, now suddenly he’s gently caressing my skin with a warm, wet cloth that feels more like a soft towel. Where the hell did he get that from? I didn’t see it on him when he got off the elevator. Then again, my head was down the whole time.
And god, how does that feel so good? I’m supposed to be pretending to be a good pet anyway, I tell myself as I give myself permission to sink into the sensation.
Fuck, I really needed him to be an asshole today. He’s holding you captive against your will, dummy. He’s always the asshole. I straighten my back, no matter that I’m lying face down on the most objectifying piece of furniture ever designed.
It’s fine. None of this is really affecting me. I’ve got my plan. I’m the queen in hiding while he takes the pawns. I’m just going through the motions with my body. My mind is my own.
“I’ve been neglecting my duties,” he murmurs. “While I do enjoy your musk, pet, keeping you clean is my duty as your owner.”
Now the soft, warm cloth comes to wash down my spine. Again, I blink so fast my eyelashes flutter against the satin mask that blindfolds me. How is the touch of the same man who ruthlessly spanked me now so gentle?
He caresses the cloth up towards my shoulder. Slowly, back and forth. And then around underneath my armpit where he scrubs tenderly. His touch drops away, and then a warmer cloth, fresh perhaps, comes to my skin as he massages it all the way down my arm.
I squeeze my eyes shut beneath the blindfold.
The thing about waking up without your memory only to find yourself all alone in the world is… there’s no one there to touch you. Nurses, sure, and prodding doctors, but that was just for a couple days at the hospital.
There was no one to hug me. There were no affectionate touches reassuring me everything would be okay.
As Domhn touches me now, I feel as if I’ve been starved for this my whole entire life. And sure, my life as I know it might only be two months long, but still. I think it’s why I gave into him so easily that first night.