Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
“The thing is,” Lisa continued, “keeping those secrets made everything worse. The guilt, the shame, the way we kept pulling away from our husbands because we were afraid of what they might discover about us. But here…” She gestured around the sterile dining room. “Here they’re going to find out anyway. They’re going to break you down until you tell them everything.”
“It’s actually a relief,” Elizabeth added quietly. “Once you stop fighting it, once you accept that they’re going to know everything anyway… it’s like a weight lifting off your shoulders.”
I shook my head, panic rising in my chest. “You don’t understand. What I did… it wasn’t just experimentation. It was…” I couldn’t say it. Couldn’t admit that I’d spent a year being used like a piece of meat and loving every degrading moment of it.
That night we all watched a movie together in the cozy little lounge off the cafeteria. The movie was Pride and Prejudice—the same one I’d watched just days ago at home, though it felt like a lifetime had passed since then. We settled onto the couches in our nakedness, and I found myself curled up next to Elizabeth, grateful for her gentle presence. The familiar story played out on the screen, but I could barely focus on Elizabeth Bennet’s struggles with Mr. Darcy. All I could think about was how simple her life seemed in comparison to mine.
When Elizabeth finally accepted Darcy’s second proposal, I felt tears prick at my eyes. Their love story was so straightforward—initial misunderstanding, gradual recognition of true character, and then happiness. No secrets, no shame, no hidden desires that made her body crave things her mind couldn’t accept.
I wished desperately that my relationship with Ryan could be that simple. That I could just be the modest, pure wife he’d married without all this darkness lurking beneath the surface. But as I sat there naked among these other submissive women, I knew that dream was over. Whatever happened next, Ryan would learn the truth about what I really was.
After the movie ended, we were escorted back to our rooms by staff members. The hallway felt endless as I walked on bare feet, my bottom still tender from Master Paul’s earlier discipline. When I reached my door, I hesitated, dreading the loneliness of that little space.
“It gets easier,” Elizabeth whispered as she passed me on the way to her own room. “The first night was definitely the hardest for me.”
I nodded, not trusting my voice, and stepped inside. The door closed behind me with a soft click, and I was alone again with my thoughts and my shame. I had barely settled onto the narrow bed when I heard footsteps in the hallway outside my door. My heart began to race as they stopped directly outside my room. A moment later, the door opened without a knock, and Master Paul stepped inside carrying what looked like leather restraints.
“Turn over,” he said simply, his voice carrying that same calm authority that had broken through my defenses earlier. “On your side, facing the wall.”
I stared at the restraints in his hands, my heart hammering against my ribs. “What are those for?”
“You touched yourself without permission today,” he replied matter-of-factly, moving toward the bed. “That means you’ve lost the privilege of having your hands free while you sleep.”
“But I won’t do it again,” I protested, even as my body began to respond to his commanding presence. “I learned my lesson. You don’t need to—”
“Turn over, Heather.” His voice cut through my protests with quiet finality. “On your side, facing the wall.”
The tone was so stern that I found myself obeying before I could think, rolling onto my side and pressing my face toward the cold white wall. The position made me feel incredibly vulnerable, my bare bottom exposed to his view, my breasts pressed against the mattress.
I felt the bed dip as Master Paul sat down behind me, his large hands grasping my wrists with gentle but implacable strength. The leather restraints were surprisingly soft against my skin, but I could feel their strength as he secured them around my wrists and then attached them to a fixture mounted on the wall in front of me.
“There,” he said, his voice satisfied as he tested the bonds. “That should keep those wandering hands where they belong.”
I tugged experimentally at the restraints, finding them completely secure. My arms were confined, not uncomfortably, but enough that I couldn’t bring my hands anywhere near the lower half of my body. The helplessness was immediate and overwhelming.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice muffled against the wall. “This isn’t necessary. I won’t touch myself again.”
“We both know that’s not true,” Master Paul replied, and I felt his hand settle on my hip, the touch sending unwanted electricity through my body. “Your body has needs, Heather. Needs you’ve been used to satisfying with your naughty showers for a very long time. The temptation would be too strong.”