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Authors: Sherri Hayes

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BOOK: Slave
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Brianna

I woke up Sunday morning without the sound of my alarm. Looking over at the clock, I saw it was already eight o’clock.

Sitting up, I searched my nightstand and even the floor looking for Master’s note, but there wasn’t one. I frowned. Did I do something wrong? He’d seemed okay last night when he’d said goodnight to me. After I’d calmed down, he’d carried me into my bedroom and had lain me down. He’d said he was proud of me.

I sat there in the middle of my bed for more than ten minutes before deciding to get up. Sooner or later I’d have to face him and deal with whatever consequences there might be. Going to my dresser, I selected a set of workout clothes and got dressed.

As I stepped out of my room to go to the living room, I almost tripped over something. Looking down I saw the two books he’d taken away from me last Sunday. On top of them was a note.

Remember the lesson.
I do not wish to take something you so treasure away from you again.

I read it twice. The tone didn’t sound angry, but it did hold a promise. He would take them away again if he had to.

Picking up the books, I cradled them to my chest. There was just something about the feel of books that could not be duplicated.

I walked back into my room and placed the books on my nightstand where they’d been only a week ago. Then I turned and went into the living room and up the stairs to the gym.

Stephan

I’d been up since four this morning when I’d heard Brianna tossing and turning in the next room. I knew I’d pushed her last night by making her relive what was obviously a very traumatic memory, but it had to be done. She needed to deal with the things she’d experienced in order to move past them.

But what she’d said had caused
me
nightmares last night. The knowledge that someone could do that to another human being was unthinkable. I couldn’t imagine doing something like that to anyone, let alone living through it.

Picking up the weight in front of me, I began my bicep curls. She’d clearly said last night that she’d tried to get away, to leave, and he wouldn’t let her; had punished her even—
if you could call it that
—for trying. Who does that?

Did Ian think it was a scene? If that was what it was meant to be, then it was a poor one. A Dom’s main responsibility is the welfare of his sub. This was clearly beyond traumatic for her. How could he not see that?

And then there was the consideration that he did know it and didn’t care. That he’d blatantly disregarded both her physical and mental well-being. It was a hard thought to swallow.

Setting the weights down, I walked over to the treadmill to begin my run. I needed to continue our progress, but I was unsure if making her relive the last ten months right now was a good thing. She needed to trust me. And although I had many questions for her, I would have to be put on hold.

Throughout the rest of my five-mile run, I went over various ways I could continue to grow that small amount of trust we’d developed so far. I had just settled on a plan when I saw movement out of the corner of my eye.

“Good morning, Brianna.”

“Good morning, Master,” she answered.

Her voice sounded fairly strong considering the rough night I knew she’d had. “I’m almost finished here,” I said. “You may start the routine Brad gave you and then meet me downstairs when you’re done.” She nodded, walked over to the mats, and began to stretch.

My eyes trailed over her figure as she moved. She was beautiful. As my gaze traveled up over her hips to her lower back and then a little higher, I stopped.

Last time she’d been in the gym with me, I’d laid out a tank top for her. Today, she was wearing only a sports bra and shorts, revealing much more of her back to me. And there on her pale skin were small scars.

I forgot the remainder of my run, as I turned off the machine and stepped toward her. As I got closer, it was obvious who had done this to her. The marks were precise, covering only the section of her back that would have been hidden by the tube top she’d been wearing when I’d first met her. Before I knew what I was doing, I was standing directly behind her, reaching out to the marks on her flesh.

Brianna went rigid at my contact. My eyes rose to meet hers in the mirror in front of her. She began to lower her gaze. “Don’t,” I said, as gently as I could.

Her eyes rose again and held mine as my fingers traced the patterns of raised tissue on her back. I didn’t need to ask if Ian had done this to her. I already knew the answer to that. Instead I said, “I would never do this to you, Brianna.”

And I wouldn’t. I had left bruises before but never scars. I’m not even sure I would do it if a submissive asked me to, and I was absolutely positive that Brianna had never asked to be marked like this.

My declaration was met with nothing but silence, but I knew she’d heard me. Her breathing had become more labored, and her eyes opened just a bit wider as if surprised.

I had no idea how long we stayed there watching each other in the mirror, until I finally stepped back and broke the spell. “Finish, shower, and then meet me in the kitchen. We’ll get breakfast, and then I have plans for us.”

With that, I turned and left her alone.

Two hours later, we were both dressed and fed. I took her hand and brought her into the living room. Standing in front of her, I asked her to look at me.

“Do you know what a safe word is, Brianna?” I was almost positive I already knew the answer to that question given what little she’d already told me, but I had to know. She confirmed my suspicions when she shook her head no.

I nodded and continued. “Has anyone ever asked you to rate something on a scale of one to ten?”

She nodded.

“Good,” I said and then asked, “Do you trust me, Brianna?”

Immediately I saw clamping her lips together. She was thinking how to answer, but this was exactly what I wanted. “On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the most and one being the least, how much do you trust me? Answer honestly.”

She seemed to consider her answer for a minute and then very softly said, “Five.”

Well that was better than a one or a two, even a three or a four. “Thank-you. I am pleased that you at least trust me halfway at this point. I will do my best not to break the trust you have in me.”

Her expression was one of utter confusion. I knew what I said couldn’t possibly make sense to her now, but hopefully it would soon.

“Periodically I will ask you to tell me your level of comfort at any given moment. Whenever I do, I want you to give me the number between one and ten that best describes your current level of discomfort. Do you understand?”

“I . . . I think so,” she answered.

“Okay. Let’s try it. How would you rate your level of discomfort last night?” I noticed her breathing quicken, and I reached out to touch her face. Her breath started to calm. “Stay with me,” I whispered. “What number?”

“Nine,” she whispered.

Interesting. She’d been in a full panic attack and yet she had not said ten. That made me a little nervous. What would she consider a ten?

But instead of commenting, I nodded and moved on. “From now on, I want you to remember this number system. If you ever get to an eight, I want you to say the word
yellow
. If you get to a ten, I want you to say the word
red
. Can you do that?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. Now, we are going to do some experimenting today.”

I felt her body immediately tense. “What number, Brianna?”

“Six.”

“Why?”

“I’m . . . scared.”

Stepping toward her, I cupped her face with my hands. “What do you fear?”

“I’m afraid you’ll hurt me,” she whispered, obviously scared that her answer would upset me.

I gave her a half smile to try and ease her anxiety. “Do you remember that five you gave me earlier? What happened to that?”

Her eyes closed. I felt her trying to find that faith again, and I was grateful.

“I need you to place your trust in that,” I said softly. “Do you think you can?”

“Yes,” she whispered back.

I knew just that little
yes
was difficult for her. She really was placing her trust in me, and I cherished it.

Leaving her standing in the living room, I went into my bedroom and found a black scarf. We may not get to all I had planned, but I wanted to be prepared. Tucking it into my pocket, I grabbed my jacket off the back of my chair and returned to Brianna. She was standing right where I’d left her, not that I’d expected anything else.

“Would you like to take a jacket with you? It might be a bit chilly.”

“Yes, Master,” she answered.

I could tell she was still nervous by the slight shakiness to her voice, but she quickly disappeared into her room and came out with a spring jacket I’d seen her wear only once prior.

Before I led her out the door, I took her chin in my hands and said, “Today is about trust. Remember that.”

Brianna

I tried to be brave as we drove. What was happening didn’t make sense. Although truthfully nothing had really made sense since this man had come into my life.

There were times when he could make me forget what I was, even if it was only for a brief second. And then other times, there was no doubt that I belonged to him. But even then it felt different than it had when I was with Ian.

When he’d asked me to rate how much I trusted him on a scale of one to ten, I’d really had to think hard. I knew I shouldn’t trust him at all, and yet somehow I did. He’d never been unkind to me. Yes, there were rules, and he expected them to be followed, but at least I knew what they were, and they were things I
could
do.

And when I’d messed up, he’d handed out his punishment and then it was over. He didn’t yell at me or continue to make me pay for messing up for days. Of course the no-books rule had lasted for a week, but in that time, he’d never brought it up, never rubbed it in my face. It was for that reason that I’d told him five in the end.

To say I fully trusted him would be a lie, and he would have known that. I still remembered the hard look in his eyes when he’d told me that I could give him no greater insult than to lie to him. It was something I never wanted to know the consequences of.

He came to a stop in the parking lot of what looked to be a mall. We both got out of the car, and I followed him as he walked inside. I felt my anxiety begin to rise a little at the prospect of being so close to all these people in a busy place, but I tried to remember that I was not alone. Master was with me.

Taking my hand, he led me into the mall and the crowds. As we moved, I could feel the air around me shifting as people came close and then moved away. I closed my eyes, trying to calm myself, and then suddenly we stopped.

“Number?”

“Four,” I whispered out.

“Look at me,” he said firmly. I opened my eyes to find him staring intently at my face. Once he had my attention, he said in clear disbelief, “Only four?”

I swallowed. What was I supposed to say?

But before I could answer or reassess, he asked, “What if I walked to that store over there and left you standing here?”

No! Please no.

There was no doubt he saw the panic in my eyes. “What number, Brianna?”

“Seven,” I gasped.

He nodded. “I’m not going to leave you alone today. So take a deep breath and get back to that four. Or better yet, down to a one or a two. I’m not going to let anything happen to you. Remember, Brianna, this is about trust.” Again I swallowed and tried to do what he said.

Finally, he seemed satisfied and began walking again. We made our way into a store at the far end of the mall. It was a small boutique, but it had some very beautiful clothing.

BOOK: Slave
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