Catherine scooted up into a sitting position against the pillows and headboard, and then allowed herself to get a proper look around her room. Due to exhaustion her previous nights had found her
crashing the minute he’d tucked her in so there hadn’t been an opportunity. Last night Sir had kissed her forehead and tweaked her nipples one last time, and then told her to sleep in until she woke. Once she was up and dressed, she was to meet him on the veranda. The lax schedule now gave her the chance to explore.
The walls were covered with a fabric paper which matched the duvet’s colors, cream base with a blue Victorian scroll that incorporated the rose theme of the room. Gunmetal blue silk curtains, dense cream carpeting, and furniture all crafted from pine with a light finish. A spray of blue and gray silk roses grew from a brushed-chrome floor vase that matched the other fixtures of the room: handles, metalwork on the furniture, curtain rods. The craftsmanship was beautiful, and Catherine wondered if it all had been made at Sir’s company.
A vase of fresh, white with tips dusted in coral roses sat on top of her dresser.
Overall the room gave off a vibe of calming and classy. It was pretty without being too ‘sissy girl.’ She liked it.
Catherine climbed out of bed, and padded over to the walk-in closet.
Sir had told her the closet had been filled with items of his choosing which met his approval for what she could wear when with him. However, the nonchalant way in which he’d done it hadn’t prepared her for the quantities of clothes she saw before her. All of it with the tags still hanging from the sleeves like a loud proclamation
of: ‘I was bought just for you.’
Catherine was touched by the gesture. She wasn’t used to such kindness, but she was catching on that Sir had meant every word he’d uttered to her thus far. He’d been telling the truth when he’d said her well-being was his concern.
Sir’s parting
whispers had been for her to, “wear a sun-dress sans underthings” so she went for the dresses. Her skin held a pink tinge from her afternoon in the sun the day prior so
she avoided the red and orange options.
Finding a beautiful crocheted dress, Catherine took it from the hanger and held it up in the light. It had a tie-dyed look with its swirling
shades of cream to beige to brown reminding her of the kind of look you could get from using tea.
There were no zippers or fasteners other than the crocheted lengths at the neck which opened the top of the dress. Since Sir had bathed her before putting her to bed, she was already clean and slipped into the dress. The flaps folded back just on the inside edge of her nipples, if she were to move all of a sudden they’d be exposed.
Too easy,
she thought with a giggle and tied the strings into a neat bow thereby covering her breasts.
The weekend so far had been amazing for Catherine. She was anxious to see what he had planned for the day – their last together until next weekend. Approaching the French doors, she paused to watch Sir through the glass.
He was shirtless, his chest tan and sculpted, but not obscenely so – enough to be sexy. Damp hair lay against his forehead making Catherine’s hand itch to push it back, and a
pair of glasses sat perched on his nose while he read the Sunday paper and sipped on his coffee.
She laid her forehead against the window
to better take him in, but the movement caught his attention.
Sir set the paper down, and fixed her with a firm stare.
~oOo~
Bullet Therapy with Jayden
“Are you coming out or are you going to continue standing there spying on me?” Jayden called to Catherine with a teasing lilt in his tone. The paper landed on the table with a soft thud followed by his glasses while she stepped out onto the veranda and glided toward him – a vision of simplistic beauty. The soft sway of her tits with each step she took confirmed her lack of lingerie, and increased his eagerness to use the item hidden in the chair next to him.
It would either piss her off, guaranteeing her answer later would be “no”, or it would be a breakthrough for her, which he was expecting it to be, and she would be his.
First things first, he offered her breakfast from the assortment of pastries and fresh berries on the table. Small talk was made while she ate; simple questions along the lines of, “Do you like your room?” and, “Is the bed satisfactory?” to ease her into a talking mood.
When she was finished eating, Jayden had Catherine sit on the table and lie back. With a meticulous approach, he pushed the dress up her thighs, and pried her legs open. Reaching into the chair, he retrieved the remote controlled G-bullet and slid it into position with ease inside her. He gave her clit a few teasing taps, then straightened her dress back down and had her take a seat again.
Like the day before, Jayden began with the easier questions: asking her about her experience with him so far, and checking in to make sure she was enjoying their time as much as he had. All the while the bullet was set on low thrumming away inside of her. Then he took it up a notch by asking about her first Dom – the one that trained her.
Her breathing remained calm, though her skin began to glisten with perspiration.
He questioned.
She answered.
He listened, and absorbed every tidbit she gave him.
Catherine shared how she met Andrew Brenner her freshman year of college. He was a professor in the psychology department who often cruised campus for volunteers for assorted studies. Instead of going home to spend the summer with her father, she had gone with Andrew to his home. He’d opened her eyes to the world of Domination and submission after detecting her natural tendencies for it. When the school term started up again, she stayed on with him through her sophomore year, figuring she had no classes in the psychology wing.
She’d been a legal adult, but Catherine had hidden the relationship from her father, knowing he wouldn’t approve of his baby being sexually active, or involved with a man ten years her senior. Catherine had always been mature for her age and never had gotten on well with those in her age group. Andrew introduced her as trained and available to the BDSM community at the end of the summer just before her junior year had started, and Spencer scooped her up.
Catherine’s eyes had dulled when the topic changed to Spencer yet Jayden pressed, beginning to play with the settings on the remote. He wanted her honest answers, but he was attempting to aid her with the physical distraction and teach Catherine that her body could still experience pleasure even if
his
memory was in the proverbial room with her.
In the beginning, things hadn’t been bad. Spencer had been attentive and caring, but when Catherine thought back on it now, she could see the signs that she had overlooked. Spencer walked her to classes and would be right there waiting when she got out, and he always had plans for them if she wanted to do something with classmates. Over time, school became the only place she went outside of the house. Spencer wouldn’t even let her do the shopping; Catherine had to make do with whatever he brought home. The first time she questioned him and was back-handed across the kitchen, Catherine should have left. It was a week later that she discovered he was keeping her locked in, and it all went downhill from there.
For the next hour, Jayden shifted topics in the questioning. Sometimes his questions were in regards to Spencer, other times he asked about childhood memories. The whole time he monitored the bullet, watching her skin tone and breathing so he knew when it was getting to be too much or taking her too close to an orgasm.
Together they worked the first memory out of her. When she was done talking, her cheeks were tear soaked, and Jayden felt nauseous. Spencer had not been a Dom. He’d been an abuser, and Catherine had been nothing more than a worthless object to him. The time had come to welcome her back into the true meaning of the lifestyle; Jayden could wait no longer.
Jayden stood and freed the velvet box which contained the length of black pearls
from his pocket. Attached near the clasp was a small charm engraved with a four-leaf clover for outer appearance while the back of the charm was etched with Jayden’s initials and a
triskele
– the emblem of their lifestyle.
“Catherine,” he said standing before her. “Will you allow me to collar you?”
There was nothing ritualistic about it, just straight to the point. Jayden wanted her; wanted to have a hand in her life full-time, even if they played just on the weekends. He was offering to be there when she was happy and when she was sick. Protection within the community would be provided by him. More than anything: he was stating that he wanted her.
Catherine met his gaze and smiled before she slipped from the chair to take a proper position on her knees for the occasion.
“Aye, Sir. To serve you will be divine,” she answered, and Jayden could tell her heart raced within her chest – much as his own.
He fastened the chain around her neck, allowing the pads of his fingertips to linger against her soft skin a moment longer than necessary, and then he kissed her lips.
“I’ve chosen black pearls for your collar because of all this particular treasure has to endure for its inner beauty to shine, and for its rarity. You are my pearl, my jewel, and you’re servitude will always be surreal.”
~~~Chapter 10~~~
Dr. Jayden, Not So Much
It was hard to believe a month had already passed since Jayden had collared Catherine. She had blossomed under his attentions in that time. Where she’d been beautiful before – resembling the roses he had delivered to her apartment every Monday – she was now more regal, rarer in his eyes, and thus priceless. He could liken her to a Rothschild’s Slipper Orchid: graceful yet fragile, and requiring kid gloves to handle her. Jayden was catching on that with proper dedication to her needs; she returned his affections tenfold, making her a worthy investment of his time.
He’d never had a better submissive.
The brush therapy became a part of their routine along with diligence in journaling. On Friday nights when Catherine presented herself in the playroom, she brought the journal which Jayden would read at some point during the weekend and make sure she had it back when she left on Sunday. Each Saturday evening, he would have her shower and bring the brush to him. She was doing splendid with opening up and talking, but each therapy session still ended with Catherine over his lap absolving herself through her tears.
Jayden had hoped there would be less by now.
Sunday mornings always found Catherine looking refreshed while Jayden would be haggard having been unable to sleep after hearing her tales of Spencer’s idea of a BDSM relationship. He scoffed at himself now for his initial questioning of her behavior. Jayden had no doubts she’d been beyond perfect for Spencer.
The man had been a case-closed nut job who had no concept of consensual or safe. What Jayden knew as bondage and discipline – an elaborate exchange of trust between two people – had been nothing more than shackling and beating in Spencer’s world. He’d managed to give even Sadism
a bad rap. There was part of Catherine that was masochistic and craved being edged into pleasure through pain; it was unfortunate that she had discovered too late that Spencer wasn’t offering pleasure, but was simply inflicting pain.
Jayden’s stomach churned and his blood pressure rose with each recounting.
Having seen the cigarette burns already, the story of how they’d come to be was the first she’d shared; a large boulder removed from her elaborate mental wall. Jayden held her while she shook and her voice trembled while she let the words go.
He listened with an aching sympathy for her while she described the way Spencer had pulled her into his playroom — which from Catherine’s description had been nothing more than a filthy basement — and in a drunken state had raped her mouth, and then tried to force her to share an ‘after-sex cigarette.’ All she had done was attempt to decline and he had burned her in multiple areas.
Jayden didn’t miss that the common factor in each of her memories was that Spencer was always drunk. Some of the stories had been so awful that he’d been wary of leaving her to sleep alone, fearing she would wake up screaming from nightmares. Against his better judgment, or perhaps because of it, he’d left Catherine in her room. If she needed his help, she knew to ask.
It confused Jayden that he had the forethought to put so much effort into the decision of where she should sleep. From the outside, one might think he was developing romantic feelings for Catherine. He knew the truth: he was just her concerned Dom, nothing more.
Well, nothing more than human.
The very idea that she could have, and without a doubt, would have ended up crippled or worse at Spencer’s hands made Jayden ill. It also made him determined. Catherine belonged in this life, thrived in it even, and he would make sure she could experience it in a safe setting until she desired it no more.
The more Catherine revealed to him of the horrors she’d undergone, the more he became concerned that she hadn’t sought professional counseling before. He was elated that she was sharing with him, but decided he needed to push her more for her own good. Erotic paddlings were only going to go so far toward healing her. Jayden knew he wasn’t a professional therapist and had begun questioning if he was helping her. He worried that he might be doing something wrong considering how deep her demons went.