Chapter 16

Jasper explained to the girls they could do and say whatever they wanted within reason. Rose was in charge, and if needed, Edward could get back quickly to help them.

He also made sure they understood anything they said would stay in this room, unless there was something of concern, then of course Rose would be obligated to share it with Jasper and Edward.

As soon as he left, Alice sighed and wore a lazy smile.

"I can't believe you're both here!" Alice squealed. Her shoulders cinched up and then she released a big puff of air. She was all aglow inside. Her eyes teared up again. "My Master—oh, woops." She smiled wide. "I mean, my Sir is incredible. I can't believe he did this for me."

"Me either—with Edward, I mean," Bella said. "You look terrific, Alice. And this place—wow! Are you living with him now?"

Alice nodded and smiled so wide, a giggle forced its way through. "He's been helping me get over . . . Well, you know. I can't explain it, but Jasper calms me in a way I don't think anyone else ever could. He seems to know exactly what to say, and my entire body and mind relax so much I feel all melty. It's hard to explain."

"You don't have to—Edward does the same thing for me," Bella replied.

Rose smiled at both of them. "God, I hope that's what I do for Emmett. I've decided I need to get my ass in the club and be trained as a sub so I can be the best possible Domme for him, but, fuck, I'm crazy nervous about it. I can't even stand the thought of somebody taking control of me, and forget being tied up. Ick!"

"Oh, God, ropes!" Bella moaned and her eyes slid up in her head. "I can't wait to be tied up. Just being hooked up to that St. Andrew's Cross about killed me with an overdose of pleasure. I thought I'd explode, it was that amazing."

Alice about bounced out of her seat. "Jasper ties me up all the time, and I fucking love it. It's the safest I've ever felt in my life. He said I practically go into subspace when he just runs it across my skin. I love how he does that to me. It's like he makes love to my body with it."

Bella fought off a whimpering moan again. "Good Lord . . . I may need to text Edward right now and beg him to have ropes waiting for me when I get home. I know I'll get in trouble for that, but it might be worth it." She giggled, and covered it with her hand, then remembered how she'd been consciously trying not to do that anymore. It was still hard to get past all the things her father had instilled in her as disgusting or annoying. Edward smiled at her like she was adorable whenever she giggled. "I don't know what I'm gonna do with that man . . ."

"What do you mean, do with him? There's nothing to do with him other than please him and let him fuck you whenever he wants," Rose said, her brow scrunched.

Bella's eyes dropped and turned into a tormented storm of conflicting emotions. "He hasn't fucked me yet. He won't. I don't know what I'm doing wrong. I think . . . Well, I—no, I know I do—I love him. I'm crazy about him. I've never felt this strongly about anyone. He's all I think about—all I want. I die inside all day, needing to hear him, see him and know he's still interested in being anywhere near me. Isn't that pathetic?" Her shoulders sagged and rounded forward. She picked at the hem of her left pant leg while she sat with her legs crisscrossed on the couch.

"It's not pathetic at all—I think it's wonderful to hear you say that," Alice said.

"Hey, I'm gonna get us drinks real quick," Rose said, and when she got up to move, Bella grabbed her wrist.

"Please, Rose . . . Tell me what you think—why he's doing this to me—why he touches me, but won't fuck me." Her eyes were pleading.

"Give me a minute," Rose said, her tone tight.

She said she'd be right back and excused herself, almost running out of the room.

"What's going on with her?" Alice asked.

"I think she feels like she'd be betraying him if she tells me what she thinks is going on, but I've gotta know. Edward won't tell me, and I'm just so . . . Fuck! I want him so bad it aches all over. My chest feels like it gets so big, yet it's tight and constrictive—it's like my heart's gonna break free and fall apart. I can't explain it, but it's . . ." Bella exhaled and her head tipped down again.

"I know exactly what you mean. It's like your soul's trying to crawl out of your heart, out of your body, and it's almost as if you can't contain it. I want to scream and then let go, so I can finally be free." Alice offered a sympathetic smile and patted her knee.

"Exactly. It's like I know I've been trapped for so long, and I can't stand one more second of being held captive. It's a scary feeling, and it takes over, you know?"

"I do." Alice nodded.

"Hey, guys, wine okay?" Rose asked, setting down a bottle on the coffee table along with some glasses.

"If you don't want to say, it's fine," Bella told Rose. "I understand there are rules. You don't have to share your opinion on why Edward won't . . ." She fought off a frown unsuccessfully, and her eyes scrunched a little.

"It's not that," Rose answered. "It's just that . . . I don't wanna be wrong. If I give you bad advice, it could really fuck things up. I keep screwing up with Emmett all the time." She ran her hand up over her eyes and pushed it through her bangs. "I keep thinking he's going to give up on me and walk away from me completely, but he doesn't. In fact . . ." she paused and smiled as if in utter disbelief ". . . he keeps talking about moving in together."

"That's wonderful!" Alice jumped in her seat and grabbed Rose's hand then squeezed.

"It is, and I want to, but I don't know . . . I'm a picky bitch. I'll drive him nuts in less than a week and then he'll regret the decision, but, Christ! Having him in my bed at night, saying such wonderful things, it's like he worships me at times, and I want it, I do, but I don't know if I'm giving him what he needs. I think I am, but . . ." Rose groaned with a tight, grating sound.

"You are," Bella said.

"How do you know?" Rose snapped her eyes over to her. "How can you say that?"

"God, we're all a mess, aren't we?" Bella chuckled. "I keep saying the same things to myself, but I trust Edward. Trust Emmett. All you have to do is look at that man to know he's totally wrapped up in you. I saw the way he looked at you when you did that scene with him at the club. He looked damn near ready to propose when you strapped him down to that piece of furniture."

"He did?"

"Yeah," Bella reassured her. "Ask him how he feels about you. He'll tell you."

"What about you with Edward?" Rose asked. "He looked about ready to die when I walked past him, slumped over in his car out in Jasper's driveway."

"Whoa! No way! He's still out there?" Bella lurched out of her seat.

"I'm sure he's gone by now," Rose told her. "Sit your ass down. We're gonna have girls time." She chuckled. "God, you do have it bad."

"Almost as bad as me," Alice chimed in, her head bobbing and a cocky grin in place. "Except . . ." She bit the corner of her mouth, looking mischievous.

"Except what?" Bella asked, shoving her a little for being so secretive. "You better say."

"I want more. I want to be his slave." Bella gasped and covered her mouth. Alice went on, "I know it sounds crazy, right? But I want him to . . . Hell, I want to be everything to him. I want to lose myself even more. It's amazing, I can't even describe the way he makes me feel when he bathes me, dresses me, and then gives me simple commands, and I'm able to fulfill all of it. I can let go completely, and it's almost like being high all the time. He smiles at me and tells me how amazing I am, and I about turn to mush inside. I keep slipping and calling him Master, without even realizing it. And even when I freak out because that bastard, Tim, finds a spot in my head to try and ruin me, I rush to the bathroom to try to scrub him out, and Jasper's always right there. He picks me up, restrains me, he takes over and then it's gone. Like it never happened, and I can breathe again."

Bella and Rose stared at her, both with looks of awe and appreciation.

"He sounds incredible with you," Bella said in a hushed tone.

"He is. Even if this shit had never happened at that damned club, I think we would've found how absolutely compatible we are. It's like he can read my mind half the time. I get a thought, and it must show on my face or something, because he's right there, already fulfilling my needs. I'm telling you—he's perfect for me. I'd marry him, be his slave, and have a hundred of his babies today if I could."

Bella sighed. "Sounds almost too good to be true."

"It's not. I live it every day. I'm never moving out of here unless he kicks me out. He's already been taking care of my place—getting rid of it for me. He handles everything." Alice smiled, and a happy tear slid down her right cheek. She let it stay there. "I feel so at home here, I can't even remember what it was like to live without him, and I don't want to."

"Do you ever miss being in charge of yourself though?" Rose asked. She ran her palms down her thighs.

"Nope; not at all. I don't ever want to go back to being that confused, fucked up mess I was. I was constantly trying to get attention, push buttons. God, I was such a brat," Alice confessed with a chuckle. "I would have felt horrible if I'd been like that with Jasper. He's the sweetest man I've ever known, and I would've constantly been beating myself up for failing him and making his life hell for no reason other than my being insecure with who I was."

Bella gulped. "You're talking about me—that's me!" Her lips trembled; it was obvious she was on the verge of breaking down.

"Oh, it is not," Rose said, reaching over and gripping her arm then jostling her playfully.

"It is," Bella insisted. "That's exactly what I've been going through. And I realize how much time I've wasted fighting him. I need to stop, but it's so hard." Her jaw clenched. "I only want to please him; do whatever he needs so he'll love me as much as I do him, but then I remember the sick shit my dad used to say to me, and I struggle to let go."

Alice nodded for a moment and then leaned over and poured them all a drink. "I think the hardest part is to trust so fully you don't even worry anymore about being hurt. You stop giving a shit if they hurt you at all. It's the best thing I've ever done to turn myself over to him. I'd trust him with my life—he's that pure of a soul."

Rose smiled. "Here's to being us!" She grabbed her drink, handed Bella hers and they all toasted together.

"Now, what about babies?" Rose laughed. "How am I supposed to live this lifestyle and be big and pregnant? Because I swear my ovaries are shouting at me to make a stupid kid with Emmett."

Bella blinked and then burst into a barking laugh. "Are you serious? You want kids?"

"Hey! I have an ego that easily bruises, you know," Rose said, laughing harder. Her drink almost sloshed out.

Alice snorted. "I think you'd be an amazing mom and he could be a stay-at-home dad so you could keep wearing the pants in the relationship. I think he'd love that."

"Damn—he would," Rose said, her eyes going wide and looking a little too happy about this idea. "I could . . . God, what am I thinking?" She set her drink down and ran her hands over her face again. "That man has turned my entire world upside down. I just wanna rip into him all the time. I can't stop planning all the devious, dirty things I want to do to his insanely tight, sexy body. If there's a man as hot as him, I haven't found him."

"That's because you haven't seen my Sir naked," Bella answered. "Holy fuck! I almost jump him if he's near me when my mind veers off, and I inevitably wind up thinking about the few times he's been naked with me. Rock. Hard. Everywhere."

"Ewww!" Alice teased. "Don't even want to think of that man naked at all. He's so grumpy sometimes."

"He's not actually," Bella told her. "He simply knows what he wants, and he's direct about. I admire him for that—for his strength of character. And he's so ridiculously kind and generous and thoughtful . . . I really need to be better at listening to him and stop challenging his authority. You said Jasper's the sweetest man you've ever met, well, Edward's that to me and more. He's the only person I've ever felt can see all the way through me, straight down to the dark corners of my soul, and he gets this look on his face like he loves what he sees. It gives me chills every damn time. No one's ever wanted to know every aspect of who I am. He wants to know everything." She smiled. "He makes me journal my thoughts and feeling, and in fact . . . he's probably reading it right now."

They toasted once more, but this time they said, "To our men!"

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Edward pulled up to his place. It was so devoid of life, of her, he was grinding his teeth the second he was inside the door.

Fuck, he was already going out of his head.

He had her journal tucked up under his arm. Without even doing another thing, he settled onto his couch, propped his legs up and began reading.

Dear Sir,

I want you to know, and dammit, I keep forgetting to tell you this, I've been keeping a more detailed account of my feelings and my reflections in a Dropbox account. I've written the codes at the back of this journal for you. I didn't know if you'd be okay with me sending it to you by email, so I figured I'd leave it here and you could decide if that was okay or not. It seemed a better solution than this book since if I accidentally forgot to lock it up in my desk at work, anyone could get ahold of it. But if I'm writing it in Word at work then put it in Dropbox, I can save the file on my thumb-drive, and I've never forgotten to take my thumb-drive home since that's where I used to store my porn.

Don't worry. You told me no masturbating, so I figured that meant no porn other than if you decide to send me some naked picks of you, so I've deleted it all, and haven't even been tempted to go looking for new pics of naked men. And believe me, Sir, if you ever gave me a picture of you, I'd have a really hard time not wanting to touch myself—that's why I'm not tempted. They're not you, and I can't even believe I was ever turned on by looking at that stuff. Well, you're all I need anymore. God, I sound like a sad-sack. Moving on before I say anything else stupid . . .

He was smiling already. Did she have any idea how adorable she was—how she'd so fully sucked him in and entranced him?

He got up and grabbed himself a scotch. He'd need it, because damn if he was already twitchy and ready go back over to Jasper's and drag her back to his place so he could make love to her.

Make love? Shit. He groaned and rolled his eyes up in his head.

His thoughts were getting more concerning in regards to her every day.

He gulped down a rather large swallow and went back to her journal. He'd delve into the Dropbox account when he was finished with the few pages she'd written in this book.

Journal Entry 1

Sir just left my office. I sucked him off—deep throated him, and it was better than I could've ever imagined.

He's uncircumcised, and I didn't know if I could take him down, he's massive, but goddammit, I did it. And it was wonderful. He was wonderful. I loved watching him touch himself. It was the most erotic thing I've ever seen, and there was no showing off. I mean, he kind of was taunting me with it, but it wasn't stupid, like some macho guy thing where he was insecure. Not at all. He was so secure, it was the biggest turn on ever.

He even told me there had been someone outside in the hallway watching him fuck my face. I have no idea if that really did happen, and at first I was really self-conscious about it, and then I realized I almost wanted to get caught so I could quit hiding. I wanted everyone to know this gorgeous, brilliant, successful, and powerful man was with me. That he wanted me enough to come here and have me pleasure him. I'm glowing inside right now thinking about how he sought me out in the middle of his work day. Me! I can barely believe it. It's like a dream, and I still haven't woken up from it. I'm smiling hard.

It was like I was hooked from that moment on. I can't explain it, but I've felt a very palpable shift. I want to be his in every way. If he wanted to fuck me on the hood of his car, I'd probably gush before he had my panties off.

If he told me to set my hair on my fire because it would please him—yeah, I'm kind of worried I'd do that too without hesitating, and all because I would know it would make his day. Jesus. Where are the matches? *looks around room*

He laughed. Thoughts of the look on her face if he ever told her to do that, assaulted him. He groaned at the deep ache in his chest over how her intriguing mind worked. She was always keeping him on his toes, saying unexpected things and reacting in such surprising, genuine ways. This shit right here—it was exactly why he was addicted.

"Yeah, like you'd do that," he said to himself, shaking his head.

He went back to reading her thoughts.

If there's a man I've ever wanted to know everything about—it's him. I want to know every damn little thing about him. It hurts to know there's so much of himself he won't share with me, when I want it all. Everything about him is attractive to me. I swear he's the man I've prayed for every day of my life, only I can't seem to make him as deliriously happy as he makes me.

Well, I'll keep trying. Until then, he's asked me to keep a record of the things I observe about him, like the things he says, what he eats, etc.

First, I'm noting the things about him that make me crazy with desire, and even make me dream about him all night long. Yes, he's that deep in my head and entwined in my soul, I can't even let go of him in my sleep.

Here goes . . .

Those eyes. God, they're the most brilliant green I've ever seen. He wears blue contacts at the club, and I can't understand why he'd ever cover them up. They give me chills just looking at them. Damn. I'm wet.

Okay, not helping. Moving on . . .

His voice. Shivers. Yes, I fucking wrote that. I'm becoming a pathetic girly-girl for him, and I can't seem to stop it. When I pick up the phone, I'm ready to drop everything and be whatever he needs. His secretary, his chef, his slut, his chauffeur, his shoe-shiner. I'd probably lick the muck off his shoes as long as it wasn't shit. How sad is that? What does it say about me? He doesn't even need to whip me to make me feel whipped. I'm so his. This girl has no idea how this happened, but it didn't take long.

Okay, back to the list. His thoughtfulness. He can turn me on in a second and without even trying. He'll be all Dom on me, and my legs go boneless, but then he says something thoughtful, about how I've made his day better and how he loved an idea I shared with him about his job, and my heart is flying away out of my chest. What man does that? No man I've ever known wants my feedback on stuff like that. I don't even know what I'm saying half the time, but he encourages me to share my silly, wayward thoughts. And he seems to appreciate them. God, how did I ever think he was a stiff, angry man like my father? They're worlds apart.

His attention to details. I'm trying to be more like him this way. He can tell if I've done small things like put a bit of extra lip gloss on, if I've spent more time on his meal than usual, if I've paid special attention to the clothes he gives me by pressing them before hanging them carefully in the closet. That reminds me, he sent me this powder pink blouse today that I thought I'd abhor. I'm not a pink person. Never liked it, but I put it on for him, and oh my God! I felt like a goddess in it. The silky fabric would brush across my skin and I could easily imagine it being his whispered kisses or light touches. It drove me mad with want for him. And my fucking nipples have been hard all day long. The bastard knows what he's doing.

More details about Edward I enjoy:

He likes spicy food, but only if it's salty; doesn't like it sweet. Hey, I'm gonna pretend he likes me that way too! Hee hee!

His steps falter when he enters a room if I smile at him.

He calls me during the day when he's bored or sick of what he's doing.

When he's thinking about what to do with me when I've been too lippy, his right eye twitches a little and then he smirks. I love that!

He likes the color blue. Each time he sees me wearing it, even if it's only in my jewelry, he almost growls. Love that too. Need to wear more blue!

He drives fast, but if I get tense, he slows down. At first I think he did the opposite to test me and see if I'd get over it? I didn't, and he adjusted accordingly. God, I love that man!

His breath caught in his throat. Did she say love?

His eyes squinted, and he read it again. Yep. She sure as fuck did.

Hard. She had him hard.

Dammit.

He flipped the page and began on the next entry.

Journal Entry 2

My dream:

Edward knows my body intimately. I don't know his as well, but I hope to someday.

I wander into his shower and find him jerking off and moaning my name.

When I touch him, he rasps a deep, rumbly, "Fuck! I knew you'd come. I knew you could read my dirty thoughts about you. Do you know what you do to me?"

I shake my head. The water sprays over his shoulder and lands on my bare tits.

He leans over, licks the dew off me, and when I wrap my arms around his head, he bites me.

"If you don't stop touching me, I'll have to fuck you," he warns.

I of course, die inside, hearing this. "Yes, God—fuck me! I can't wait any longer. I want you so bad, I can barely see straight anymore."

And it's true. My dream is right.

He pushes me up against the wall, and it's crazy how my palms stick to his body wherever he places them, and I can only do what he wants. He looks at me like I'm his next meal, and I whimper.

His hand shoves mine up against his cock.

I grip him harder than I thought myself capable of, and when he thrusts and the head peeks through the end of my fist because, yes, he's that fucking huge (but bigger in real life—funny how my dream didn't get that aspect right), and my mouth waters at the sight.

Without permission, and being a naughty slut for him, I lean over, my hands still where he put them, and I lick the tip of his head.

It's juicy, and it's salty, and I suck and slurp at him, and he pushes me down to my knees.

"Fucking suck it hard, and I'll reward you, little slut."

"Yes, Master."

I have no idea why I call him this—it just comes out, but it fits. I want to be owned entirely by him in every way.

I push my hand further down his length so it's out of the way and then I take him in. My throat burns with desire for his come to coat it.

"Oh, God, I love how nasty you are, that you love getting dirty with me," he groans.

I suck harder; I push his foreskin down as far as it'll go. He hisses, and I moan around him. I love the sounds he makes.

I'm dripping down my legs for him. Will he fuck me now? Please, God, let it be now.

I suck until there's salty pre-come leaking out of him.

He gasps in a tight gust of air, picks me up like I weigh nothing, shoves me back up against the wall, and he stares at me like I'm destroying him. "Do you know what you're doing to me—each day, you unravel me more. You want me to love you? Well, that's not enough. I have to have all of you!"

And then wham! He's finally shoving his mind-blowing, giant cock inside me. And I'm shaking right away, gripping his shoulders, and crying out. "I love you! I know you don't want me to, but I can't . . . can't help it!"

And when he makes a dying, pained sound, I close my eyes. He's going to punish me for saying that. And I didn't even say Sir. God, I'm screwed. This is it. I finally got him to put his glorious dick inside me, and I've already ruined it.

"Say it again," he rasps, his teeth nipping at my jaw.

"I love you, Sir. You're everything!"

He doesn't say it back, but it's okay. He's letting me share how I feel, and it's all okay, and he's still inside me.

He pulls his hips back, shoves his way roughly back in, and then he breathes, "When I'm done with you, you won't know who you are anymore, because you'll be mine. You'll be Edward's, and it won't matter what I say or do. You'll want me no matter what I desire of you. Even if I want you to be my little woman—clean my house, serve my every whim, and be my favorite fuck-toy. You'd love that, wouldn't you? Be debased and pushed down to nothing, all for my amusement?"

"God, yes," I whisper. It's awful that I don't care if he wants me to scrub his toilets and be his maid, but I don't care.

And then he says, "I love the way you want me. I want you even more than you know."

Before he can thrust one more time, I'm coming, and oh shit, he didn't give me permission.

Instead of punishing me, he chuckles and keeps going. He fucks me into the wall, and my back aches, and it's the best feeling in the world.

I kiss him without his say so, and it's hard and gritty and dirty, and he moans, then he comes inside me.

I hope he stays inside me as long as possible.

My greedy cunt sucks him in as high as he can go. I hold him tight.

Please don't go. When you leave, I almost crash and fall apart.

I beg him with my eyes, and he pets the side of my temples and kisses my nose. "You need me, don't you, girl?"

"I . . . Yes, Sir. Always. Will you stay?"

"Will you earn it?"

"Yes. Anything you say, I'll do."

"Including wiping yourself off the floor after I fuck your ass so hard, you can't stand anymore?"

I nod.

And then the water hits me, and I dissolve down the drain as he walks away.

That's all he needed to hear. How far I was willing to go for him? I don't think there's a limit anymore.

I've never been fucked in the ass, but after that dream, I want to be.

I've never crumbled inside at the thought of cleaning a man's house and being his laundry lady, but I do for him.

Do I really want all those things? I have no idea. I'm kind of confused and torn actually. There's a deep, secretive part of me that wants to be that nineteen-fifties housewife that runs the house, and then when he comes home from work exhausted, I almost want to beg him to use me to relieve his stress. I want to be there for him. Make him feel like the man that rules the world, since he already rules mine.

How can I be those things for him? What if I'm not good at it.

This girl is scared, but so excited, she can barely contain it.

And oh yeah. Fuck! Forgot to mention, when I woke up, I was in the middle of having a mind-numbing orgasm. I never touched myself. Will Edward be pissed if he reads this?

I'm sorry, Sir. If you're reading this. I didn't mean to. In fact, I didn't even know women could have wet dreams, but I guess I do. My body found a way to compensate I guess. Shit. Don't be mad. Please?

He sighed and shoved the book aside. He was sweating, his chest tied up in knots and all he could think about was, "Fuck, I want her in the worst way. And now I have to do this . . ."

He was dreading it, and had been putting it off, but in order to progress they'd have to make this trip.

He pulled out his phone, dialed up the number he took out of her contacts since she'd allowed him access to all her email accounts and let him look at her texts and go through her phone nightly.

"Hello?"

"Hi," he began. "My name's Edward Cullen. May I have a minute of your time? It's regarding Bella . . ."

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Bella and Rose had left, but only after Rose pulled Edward and Jasper aside, and all but begged them to please be at her public scene this weekend.

They both agreed.

Jasper roamed toward Alice, who was sitting on the couch, staring at the floor with a lazy grin set on her beautiful face.

"What is this angel contemplating?" he asked, chuckling.

He slid into the seat next to her.

She sighed and when she turned her gaze on him, his chest that felt cold when he was away from her, suddenly came to life with heat and a furious pounding.

"You're just the pretties little thing I've ever seen," he said, brushing the backs of his fingers down her cheeks.

"Thank you, Sir. I love it when you say things like this. You're everything to me. I think I'd lost my soul, but you've given me a new one. I'm certain of that now . . . And I want to tell you that I love you."

His eyes went wide and his heart raced even more. "Alice, I . . ."

"Shhh . . . Sir, you don't need to say anything in return. I know this is tricky. You've been dealing with a half-dead woman almost this entire time, and you've been selfless and perfect, and when I was talking to my two dearest friends in the world tonight, it all came tumbling out. You're everything to me, and I know that's huge and scary, but it's true. I don't want it to feel like a crushing weight or anyth—"

"I won't have you lessen this moment by excusing it and trying to make it sound unworthy of us. You've shared how you feel, and that's all I ever want from you."

She blinked and her eyes flooded with tears.

"Little sub, I didn't mean it that way. I meant that my greatest concern for you and your well-being is that you're open and sharing of who you are and how you feel. Make sense?"

She nodded and her eyes crinkled at the corner with a smile.

"Good. I'll show you what you mean to me. Now, stand up, get undressed on your own, and we're going to try something your therapist shared with me after you left the room. She said it would probably help a lot with your need to feel clean after being traumatized." He stood up, and turned to go. "I'll be right back after I collect a few items I need for you. No going into the bathroom until I say you can. You won't need to after this. I think this is going to be exactly what you need."

"But, Sir, can you at least tell me where you went tonight and what happened?"

"No. Naked. Now. Talking later, and then I may choose to tell you what you want to know."

He slipped out of the room.

If he knew her, the second her clothes were off, she'd be cringing and staring at that bathroom door.

He had to be quick.

His arms grabbed the supplies he'd gathered while he'd been out attending to business matters.

He found her nude and in inspection position when he returned: legs spread wide, head bowed, eyes on the floor, chest up and out with hands clasped behind her head. Her spine was straight—perfect posture, and her stomach was held in tight. She was a vision to behold.

"God, that's perfect. Why didn't I think of that? You're brilliant, Alice." He set down the supplies on the coffee table next to the empty wine glasses.

"Sir, I thought it would help. It makes me think of you, looking me over and approving, then I don't feel as dirty and abused." Her voice hitched at the end.

"You're the cleanest little girl ever, and we're going to make you as spotless as can be right now. You'll be scrubbed clean of every ill thing in this vile world, including me and the things I've done wrong," he said, running his hands over her breasts as he stood directly behind her, almost pressing his body into her.

"But, Sir, you're so perfect, and I—"

"Silence. Be still. I'm apologizing, and you will accept it. I've done things wrong with you, and I can admit that. It's going to stop now. I know you better, I know what you need and what's best for you, and starting right now, in this moment, you'll know exactly what I mean by this." He pulled her hands off her head and set them at her side.

"Yes, Sir."

"Good girl. Now, you're going to go find the biggest towel I have in the hall closet. Wet it down. Wring it out so it's damp but not sopping, and you'll set it down on top of this blanket I'm going to spread out on the ground here. You have five minutes, and if I find you doing anything other than that in the bathroom, you'll get a spanking this time. I've avoided doing anything of this nature up until now, but you're ready for it. Go."

She released her legs from the wide stance she'd put them in.

Her steps were sure, and he smiled as he set the blanket out. He listened to her intently while she was in the bathroom.

His trust in her had grown immensely after Rose told him she never even entered the bathroom while he was gone.

He spread out what he needed on the table, and when she returned, she kept her gaze on her hands.

"Thank you for being so respectful. I don't want you to anticipate what we're going to do, so unless I tell you otherwise, your eyes are to remain on the floor," he said.

She mumbled a "Yes, Sir," then set the wet towel over the blanket.

"Lie down on top of it, stomach down, legs spread comfortably but no more than shoulder width. I want your arms at your side, a few inches away from your body and you're to relax your muscles," he said, then circled around the coffee table.

He took a deep breath. Was he ready for this?

"Eyes closed. There are going to be a lot of sensations tonight. I don't want to restrain you so you can move as you please, but if you'd rather—tell me now," he said.

"Sir, I love being bound, but I trust you have good reasons for leaving me free." She smiled and closed her eyes.

Her legs and shoulders were tense.

"Try to relax. And I don't want to hear you talking unless you need to safe word or unless I ask you something that requires a response," he instructed.

"Yes, Sir. I think I'd like to be quiet tonight anyway. My mind is relaxed after being with my friends. Thank you for that, by the way." She hummed and snuggled into her wet spot.

The moisture from the towel was seeping into the blanket. It was overkill, but he'd never done this at home before.

Fuck, he hoped he wouldn't screw this up.

He knelt down next to her. "Massage first. We begin now—no more talking—I mean it. I'm not even going to tell you what I'm doing for most of this. I want this to be the ultimate moment of trust." He ran his hand down the top of her head, over the entire length of her body and he sighed when his hands came off her. So smooth and beautiful. He loved having his hands on her. Moments like this made his whole body light up.

He reached over and grabbed the seven wheel pinwheel and the second he rolled it over her left calf, she squealed and hummed again.

Her skin pinked up almost immediately. He ran it over every inch of her that was exposed to him.

His insides warmed deliciously and endorphins cruised through his veins as he observed her heady reactions. Watching her give in like this was not only intoxicating, it was surreal.

Had a sub ever melted so completely and surrendered so fully under his guidance?

It was a gift. And he was going to thank her all damn night when they were done with their scene.

His eyes misted when she sighed and rolled her shoulders down into the ground like she was allowing it to swallow her up. It was evident she was letting him take her wherever he wanted.

Thank you, sweetheart . . .

His heart swelled to damn near bursting for her.

She breathed evenly and her muscles were all limp now.

God, this was going to work. He could feel it. The heat rolling off her skin told him she was almost ready.

He set the wheel aside, and went for his next tool.

His attachment had never been used before.

He set the rolling drum on his violet wand, got it ready and said, "Okay, this might feel odd at first, but if you accept it, then we can move onto what I think you really need and want. Ready, sweetheart? Nod if you are. No words."

She nodded vigorously, and he inhaled deeply, swallowed and set it down on her left shoulder.

"Ohhhhh, mmmngh," she gasped and her body rippled for a second then she smiled and her facial features softened then went into that look he so craved from her—that space where she was in heaven.

She was sublime when she went into subspace.

This was better than he'd thought. She'd be able to handle this next part no problem.

He was mesmerized, watching the small sparks dance across her pale skin.

"Feels good, doesn't it? This is me, loving you, showing you my devotion to you," he said. Helping to heal you . . .

She remained silent; her eyelids flitting around as she floated inside her head.

A few more passes and he turned it off, set it back on the table, and went to work on what he hoped would be a huge step in her recovery process.

He grabbed the bottle of seventy percent isopropyl alcohol, then set it down, realizing he'd forgotten something important. Shit. He'd thought everything was set in place.

He ran to the kitchen, grabbed two bowls. Filled one with ice and the other with water.

When he returned, she looked asleep, she was so serene and motionless.

He moistened his hands and told her, "I'm going to wet your hair. It's just water, so there's nothing to worry about."

He used an upward sweeping motion on her short hair, pushing it up and out of the way.

"Okay, I'm going to cleanse you now. You'll never be dirty again, sweetheart. I'm doing this for you—for us." He exhaled in a rush and picked up the bottle of rubbing alcohol once more.

He could do this. He would do this, for her.

His eyes flashed over to the area on his inner arm where he'd already tested this on himself. It went well. What was he worrying about?

She might flip out, and this might set her back.

He shook his head. No, she'd take to this. Her therapist was confident it would help, not harm. And he agreed.

No backing out.

The crop was there. The supplies were ready.

He grabbed the plate he'd set out with his supplies, poured some alcohol onto it and then put the lid back on the bottle, securing it tight.

His hand shook a little when he grabbed the crop and wet it down with the alcohol.

He spread some of the alcohol across the upper portion of her back, using the tip of the crop to do it then grabbed the lighter and lit the crop into a torch.

The second the flame licked at the wetness on her back, she sighed and almost cooed what sounded like a "Yesss!"

A second later, he put out the fire on her skin with his hands, sweeping it away, and then he blew out the torch.

Fuck—that was fantastic—the way it flickered across her skin in an unearthly way. He touched the spot and it was a little warm, but there was no hint it had been ablaze a moment ago.

"Alice. I need to hear your words—tell me what color you are," he said.

"Green, Master," she slurred and licked her lips then nuzzled into the towel, with a lazy grin in place.

"You say if it's too much by telling me yellow. I'm going to do that again, but in a different area," he warned.

Once more, the crop was submerged in the liquid, he spread it across her lower back, the same thing happened—he lit her, she made an appreciative sound, and he swiped the flame away.

When he got to her legs, the place she always wanted to scrub raw from the things Tim did to her, he found himself praising her endlessly and retraining her thoughts.

"You're such a good girl, so clean now. I'm purifying your skin to match your glowing, pure heart. Do you feel how clean you are as I wash you with fire?" He blew the flame off her flesh, and he felt like the fire was under his skin, lapping at his chest, burning him with a passion for this woman, lying prostrate before him, giving in to his will.

"Mmmhhhaaah," she mewled and her leg wobbled for a second then relaxed completely.

He walked the flame up her thigh and when he got to her ass, she moaned.

The same thing happened on the other side.

Her entire body had been set to flame, and when he was done, he wrapped her up in the towel, wiping off any residue left behind.

When she opened her eyes, something overcame him.

"I love you, Alice, and I want you to wear my collar. I don't want a slave—I just want you," he said.

She blinked with a dazed look, smiled and cooed, "Yes, Master. I want that too."

He pulled the towel off her, stripped down, and moved her over to the dry area of the blanket, then made love to her slowly and without any fear of her harming herself again.

She was whole. He could feel it.

A/N:

Thank you to my pre-readers: Paxson Adkins, Boo1414 and Soapy Mayhem. And a massive hug to my new beta on this story, Shenani Whatagans.

If you're interested in what a violet wand and 7 wheel pinwheel look like, here are some links so you can check it out:

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Http (colon) . This one is similar to the violet wand, but I shared it because if you're daring enough, watch the video. Holy hell. I want one of those!

I plan to fix some issues in the first few chapters soon that I realize now are huge errors in regards to this lifestyle. I laugh now when I think about how much I thought I knew when I began writing this months ago. It's been a journey to find out exactly how inexplicably radiant and beautiful this lifestyle is. If I never wrote another word after today, I'd be forever grateful that I wrote this story because of the amazing people I've met, the things I've discovered about myself along the way, and most of all, I'll always be thrilled that I got a glimpse of and got to touch a bit of Heaven without even realizing I was doing it at the onset.

This story's wrapping up. I've already written the next few chapters. Need to fix a few issues then I'll send them off to my beta and pre-readers.

Book rec for this chapter, and it's one of my absolute favorites; I've read it several times—Bared to You: A Crossfire Novel by Sylvia Day. I really loved the second book as well, but the first in the series is by far my favorite. The third book should be coming out soon, and I can barely wait! Some people compare it to Fifty Shades and say it's a rip-off, but I disagree. If you read it, or have already done so, you'll have to tell me what you think… I could talk about this book forever—it's that good! The BDSM themes in regards to toys haven't surfaced much yet, but his Dom demeanor—whoa! It jumps off the page and sucks me in—mind, body, soul and breath! It's a very angst heavy story though, so you've been forewarned. But I think it's completely worth it. The writing is exhilarating and captivating; it's the reason I've read it multiple times and it's got highlights all over it.

Thank you also to all my readers that review and share their thoughts and encouragement along the way! It means a lot to me you were willing to take a risk on this story.

And when I say risk, I don't mean to run on and out and buy a crop to be used as a torch, a lighter and some rubbing alcohol. People in this lifestyle that do fireplay, train and know what they're doing. Remember, the key words are always safe, sane and consensual. This story is by no means a how-to light your lover's skin on fire and then live happily ever after. Do the research, put in the time before you ever consider something like this.

That's it for now… Happy Easter to those of you celebrate it!

Chanse