Amy Valenti - Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial #1) (18 page)

BOOK: Amy Valenti - Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial #1)
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It doesn’t matter now. You survived. It’s over.”


Except for when things like last night happen,” she said, her voice slightly muffled against my shirt, as though she was trying to hide her tears.


We’ll get through them together,” I vowed, holding her tighter.

She clung to me as though I were the rock keeping her from drowning.
“You really mean that? Even now you know everything?”


Kat…the only thing you could do to push me away would be telling me to leave. And even then, I’d try to change your mind before I went. Don’t you dare think otherwise, you hear me, little miss?”

She held her breath, a sure sign that she was holding in sobs.

“Cry if you need to. I understand.” I was close to tears just thinking about her in such a horrifying situation. Damn right I understood that she’d want to cry.

Her composure crumbled and she sobbed, her fingers twisted in my shirt. I swallowed the lump in my throat and held her, helpless to influence the past but determine
d that her future would hold nothing like it.

 

 

Chapter
Twelve

 

Kat

 

Thursday evening came, and Callum was ready to fly back to California for his audition. He’d even asked me to come with him—since my meltdown and the confessions that had followed it, he’d been reluctant to leave me alone. But I resisted the urge to let him coddle me, refusing to let the incident from my past define me anymore. It had already led to me trying to push Callum away, and I wasn’t going to indulge the crazy any more than I had to.

May
be I’d need some more therapy—my late teens and early twenties had been filled with appointments, and God only knew how my parents had financed that—but for now, I thought that working through my issues about submission with my Dom would be therapy enough. All I had to do was convince him I wasn’t totally breakable—in the couple of days since I’d told him about my abuser, he still hadn’t moved our physical relationship on from vanilla with sprinkles. He hadn’t even spanked me. I was starting to worry.

Callum dropped his overnight bag by the door, then took some papers from the coffee table. I
’d noticed them before, but hadn’t given in to my curiosity and taken a closer look.


Homework assignment while I’m gone, little miss. If you don’t think you can handle it, you tell me now, okay?”

I took the papers from him and skimmed through the text on the top page. It was a list of BDSM activities, with three boxes across from each option marked
‘green’, ‘yellow’ and ‘red’. “This is a lot of stuff, Sir.”

He sat down next to me and looked over my shoulder.
“I need to know where your limits are before I can scene with you properly. You said that you’ve had…bad experiences…with ball gags, and I know now that you can’t stand to have one near you. But you also were spanked back then, yet when I did it to you, you didn’t react badly at all until your brain kicked back in afterwards.”

Looking at the list again, I could see his point.
“So spanking would be green, ball gags would be red…how about yellow?”


Things that you want to try but aren’t sure whether you can take them or not.”

I skimmed the items on the list.
“Like flogging.
He
never…with floggers.” Callum nodded to signify that he got my oh-so-eloquently expressed point, and I continued, “But I guess it might be a bit like canes, and those would be a red for me. So I don’t know yet.”

He kissed the side of my head.
“We’ll find out when I get back, little miss.”

My heart skipped.
“Really? A proper scene?”


If you do your homework,” he said, and kissed me again, on the lips this time.

I eagerly returned the kiss, wishing he didn
’t have to go. I knew I’d be nervous when the time came, but I couldn’t wait to get past this barrier that stopped me from exploring deeper submission.

Callum drew back relucta
ntly, desire plain on his face. “I need to go or I won’t make my flight.”


Okay.”

I saw him to the door, and before he stepped over the threshold he gripped the back of my neck, making it very clear that he was speaking as a Dom to his submissive.

“You need me, you call. I don’t care what time it is, or what you think you might be interrupting.”

I rolled my eyes, putting on some badass so that he didn
’t feel so bad about leaving. “Hope this audition’s for the part of a mother hen, because you’ve already nailed it.”


You know your ass is gonna pay for that when I get back, right, Little Miss Badass?” His eyes sparked dangerously, although I could sense his amusement.


Counting on it, Sir.”

He pressed a hot, hard, way too brief kiss to my lips and then
released me abruptly. “Go do your homework.”

I stepped back and he shut the door behind him, leaving me more than a little aroused with no Dom around to beg for mercy. I
’d just decided to head into the bedroom for some private time when my phone beeped with a text message.

No orgasms until I get back, little miss. That
’s an order.

I flopped down on the couch, trying to resist the temptation to press
my thighs together for stimulation.
Do I get to say the same for you, Sir?

A minute passed before his respons
e came back.
I’m not even out of the parking lot yet and you’re being a bratty girl? Keep this up and I’ll stay vanilla on you for an extra month.


Damn it,” I muttered, and sent back an emoticon of a virtuous angel, complete with halo. Why was it that he could keep me in line even without a threat of violence?

 

* * * *

 

On Friday, I went to see Trish again. It seemed like forever since I’d gone to her about Callum, but it had been less than a week.

Even with all that had happened and my del
icate new acceptance of my submissive tendencies, I still got butterflies as I walked up to the front door. I guessed maybe I always would, given what had happened to make me come here in the first place.

Trish was expecting me and opened it before I coul
d input the code for the keypad.


Kat, come on in, honey.” Her smile was as warm and welcoming as ever, though she scanned my bare arms for bruises as I stepped past her into the shelter.


No Rochelle today?” I asked, gesturing to the empty bench.


She and her mother have moved on. Got their own little apartment and everything.” Trish beamed like a proud mother and began to make coffee. Not much changed around here.


I’m glad.” I hadn’t met Rochelle’s mom, but the little girl had left an impression on me. I hoped she’d be okay.

Trish and I got settled in her office again. I would have been happy to talk in the kitchen, but if what I was about to say was overheard and taken the wrong way by any of the women staying here, I
’d never forgive myself.


How are you?” Trish asked.

I smiled.
“I’m good. I’m really good.”


Get that man out of your hair?” she said, her tone implying that she thought I must have done.


Actually, no. I accepted him as my Dominant.”

Her eyes widened, and although she was subtle about it I c
ould tell she was reassessing me for trauma and injuries.


Trish, it’s okay. He’s a really good guy.”

Her doubts were obvious, but she seemed willing to listen, at least.

“I never researched this stuff before I was abused, and afterwards I was scared to. I used to walk away from conversations that had anything to do with it, and I’d always stop reading things that mentioned it when I came across it accidentally. I didn’t know what a huge network the BDSM community is, and how seriously they take their safety.” I explained about everything I’d learned online, and the articles I’d read about the difference between BDSM and abuse. “Callum, my Dom—he’s a responsible Dominant. He’s refused to do anything that might trigger my panic attacks, and I’ve been the one begging him to do more to
me
. There’s a lot of stuff I won’t be able to handle, but he’s made me write it all down so he knows not to overstep my boundaries.”

Trish took all this in quietly, her eyebrows arching every now and then when I said something she
found surprising. When I went quiet, she took a breath and let it out slowly.


I don’t know anything about any of that, but from what you’ve said about your new man, he’s careful with your emotions at least. For your sake, I hope—I really hope—that you’re right about him. All I care about is that you’re safe, honey.”

Affection welled up in me; she really meant it.
“I know, Trish. That’s why I wanted to come and tell you about it. It might not help any of the other women who come here, but maybe it will. I figured at least I could tell you that BDSM as a concept isn’t the problem. It’s all down to the people doing it. So if you see another woman come through and she talks about liking the same things I do, maybe you can tell her she’s not broken.”

She took b
oth of my hands in hers and squeezed, tears in her eyes. “I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were, Kat. That was never my intention.”


Oh, I know!” I stood up and hugged her impulsively. She’d been so supportive of me and I almost felt like a traitor for going in a direction that involved violence, in a way that she hadn’t considered was possible.

It was hard for me to
classify what I wanted to achieve from this visit. Closure, and to plant a few seeds of knowledge, maybe.

I had run blindly from a part o
f myself because I hadn’t understood the difference between a submissive and a victim. Maybe by giving some understanding to Trish, who was connected to abuse charities that no doubt looked upon BDSM with scorn, I could get the word out to a few more people who were as ignorant as I had been.

If not, at least I was reassuring Trish that I was well and happy. It would probably take a few more visits for her to really believe me, but it would be time well spent.

 

* * * *

 

Callum

 

I got
the call on the way back to LAX. “Julian, what’s up?”


Are you sitting down?” my agent asked gleefully.

There wasn
’t enough air in the back of the cab all of a sudden. “I got the part?”


You nailed it!” He laughed as I just stared ahead of me, trying to process what this meant. “Are you gonna show me a little enthusiasm now, or what?”

I
’d never been the type to effusively proclaim my happiness about something, and after so long as my agent, Julian knew that. I just said, “Thanks for everything you’ve done to get me here. I really appreciate it.”


And from you, that’s actually not a bad endorsement.” He laughed again, no doubt already calculating his commission for the part he’d managed to land me. “Okay, I’m gonna go get drunk. I was on tenterhooks all afternoon waiting for the call. I need to relax, man.”


Take care of yourself. I’ll see you when this New York thing’s over with.”

I hit the button to end the call and shook my head in disbelief. I
’d known the audition had gone well, had seen the approving looks exchanged between the panel, but I hadn’t allowed myself to hope beyond that. It didn’t quite feel real.

Without much thought, I brought up Kat
’s entry in my contacts and waited for the call to connect.


Hey,” she said. “I thought you’d be on your way back by now. What’s going on?”


I got the part,” I told her, hoping that speaking the words would make it feel less dreamlike.


What? They got back to you already?” Kat’s voice was incredulous. “Fuck, that’s amazing! Congratulations!”

I smiled at her enthusiasm.
“Thanks.”


Are you celebrating? Where are you?”

The smile in her words was infectious, and I closed my eyes as I smiled back.
“On the way to the airport.”


Well, that’s not very exciting.”


Then you’d better make it up to me when I get back, don’t you think, little miss?”

Her breath caught.
“I can think of a few ways I can help you celebrate, Sir.”


I’m gonna hold you to that.” The airport loomed up ahead. “Right now, though, I have a flight to catch.”


See you in a few hours, superstar.”

I laughed as we hung up. Kat
’s reaction was exactly what I’d needed to kickstart my brain again, and the future was looking good. As the cab pulled up outside the departures terminal, I shifted in my seat, eager to get home.

Home?
I’d been in New York less than two weeks. When had it become home?

Maybe home was wherever my little miss was.

 

* * * *

 

Kat

 

There had been delays overnight, and it was nearly eight in the morning when Callum sent me a text message to tell me he was on his way back to my a
partment. He’d sent me one last night to let me know not to wait up, so I’d had a fairly restful night despite my excitement at getting to be with him again.

I got up and headed straight for the shower, being as quick as I could while still taking enough t
ime to pretty myself up for my Dom. Once I was finished, I blow-dried my hair but didn’t bother to put on any clothing. I suspected whatever I was wearing would come off pretty quickly once Callum walked in.

BOOK: Amy Valenti - Not Your Damn Submissive (Denial #1)
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