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)
On a roll now, certain he’d solved the problem, Damon continued, “We’re on Enclave property, yes. But we can make our own rules. So, I, as your Master of the moment, rule that you’re going to have a safeword, and you’re going to use it when you need it. I know enough about you already to be confident you’ll only use it as a last resort when I’m not picking up on your cues and you’re at a breaking point. As soon as you use it, all action ceases and we stop and figure out what went wrong.”
He finally turned to her. “So, what’s your safeword, Ellen?”
Instead of the grateful, relieved expression he had expected, Ellen looked positively miserable. Her brows were furrowed, the hurt in her eyes impossible to ignore.
“What?” he demanded, confused and a little annoyed. “What’s the problem now?”
Chapter 12
Ellen took a deep breath as she struggled to compose herself. Beneath her tears, another emotion was at play—anger. She was furious with herself for allowing her irrational fears to get in the way of her submission. Where were her grace and training?
And, she had to be honest, she was also angry at Master Damon, in whom she’d placed her trust, for failing to “pick up on her cues” to the point that she’d fallen headlong into panic mode.
She reminded herself that Master Damon was not an Enclave trainer. He didn’t seem to embrace or perhaps even understand their philosophy about no safewords. That wasn’t unreasonable—not really. Her scene friends back in Charlotte hadn’t understood the concept either until she’d explained it.
But he was trying to understand now. She owed it to him, and to herself, to be open and honest. A true slave kept nothing from her Master. Even if he was only a temporary Master, that didn’t mean she shouldn’t give him her all.
She shifted on the bed to a kneeling position facing Master Damon, who still lay on his back, looking better than any man had a right to. Why did he have to be so damned handsome? It was distracting.
Straightening her spine, she placed her hands on her thighs, palms up to indicate receptiveness to her Master. The familiar pose helped to calm her and center her thoughts.
“Permission to speak freely, Sir?”
“I insist.”
“I do have a safeword. Or rather, I used to have one before I came to The Enclave. While I was there, I worked with trainers who were so attuned to every nuance of a submissive’s actions and reactions that I never felt the need for one. Don’t get me wrong. They did push me, sometimes further than I thought I could go. But precisely because I had no safeword, I didn’t look for a way out. I didn’t want or need one.”
He frowned, his confusion evident. But all he said was, “Go on.”
She looked down at her upturned palms as she thought how best to explain herself. “For someone unfamiliar with Enclave methods, not allowing a safeword might seem like an unfair burden to place on a sub. But really, the onus is on the Dom—the Master. He is responsible for keeping her safe even while pushing her to the limits of her submission. This in turn frees up the sub to truly give her all. She knows he’s paying attention all the time—not just when she uses some magic word.”
Ellen brought her hand to her mouth. “Oh, shit,” she blurted. “That didn’t come out right, Sir. I didn’t mean to be impertinent.”
But Master Damon didn’t look annoyed. If anything, he looked amused, or perhaps bemused was the better word. “No offense taken. Because you’re right. You told me in a number of different ways that the situation was stressful, and I basically discounted your concerns. You told me it would have been a hard limit if you were permitted hard limits. And instead of listening like an Enclave Dom—like a good Dom—”
“Oh, no, Sir,” she couldn’t help but interject. “I didn’t mean to imply—”
“Sure you did,” he interrupted, to her mortification. “And you were right. In this instance, I wasn’t a good Dom. Instead of getting you to the point where you felt safe enough to truly submit, I put you in a position where you had to power your way through something, teeth clenched, sweating bullets, terrified.”
His voice gentled. “I’m sorry, Ellen. I’ll do better. But I’m sticking to my guns here—you need a safeword. If not for you, then for me. We’ve got this amazing opportunity to go deep into this whole power exchange thing. I don’t want to fuck it up again because I want what I want when I want it. But, the bottom line is we’ve only got seven days.”
Seven days. How many times was he going to harp on that—to remind her in no uncertain terms that this wasn’t a potential love match?