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“You were the strongest you’ve ever been. You took charge in the only way you could. You wrestled the control of the experience out of his hands and into your own.”
I squeezed my eyes tight, the memory of that surge of power making my cock hard. Luke’s scent held me fast in the present, though, and I snuggled closer to him.
Luke went on, “And you did that by doing something so outside the bounds of what’s traditionally acceptable that you’ve become deeply ashamed of your proudest moment, baby.”
“How can I be proud of it?” I whispered. “It’s sick.”
“No, it was survival. You protected your psyche by rewriting the scenario giving yourself power and control. You did what you had to do.”
“I could have—”
“You could have what?”
I whispered, “I could have gone limp. I could have fought harder.”
“You chose to be stronger than either of those things. You chose to redefine the experience. I want to help you hold that strength close and love yourself for what you did in that moment.”
I tried to imagine feeling proud of what I’d done that day, and all I could think of was going to Kyle, making him come, owninghim the way I’d owned my father. I shuddered. Nothing was healthy about that. No matter how good it felt, no matter how much of a god I became.
Luke stroked my hair. “The next thing I’m going to say is challenging. Are you ready?”
I nodded, clinging to him, listening to his heartbeat speed up.
“I think one way you could try to love the Minty you were back then—theMitchellyou were—is to challenge your fear of Daddy play. Do you want to push against your shame today?”
“How?”
“Play in a way that lets you embrace that you egged him on, that you reached orgasm, and that he did too, at your urging.”
“Stop,” I moaned. “Don’t say it like that.”
“It’s true.”
“Sir, I want it tonotbe true.”
“That’s not how life works, baby.” He stroked my hair again. “You don’t have to agree. This isn’t a deal killer for us. We’ll carry on today even if you decide not to call me Daddy. But I want you to really think about it. Think about the Mitchell of that day, how much love he wanted and needed anddeserved, how proud you should be of him for surviving what he did, and then honor his survival by refusing to be ashamed of his choices. Just consider it.”
I shook my head, pulling back to look at his face. But part of me wanted to test it, to croak out “please, Daddy” as I stared into his hot eyes.
It wouldn’t be so scary. He looked nothing like my father.
But I didn’t.
Instead, I let him lead downstairs, strip me down, and take me over to a stainless-steel rod suspended from the ceiling near the wall of implements. He gagged me with a soft rope and strung me up to it with leather-covered chains. My arms were held extended, and my legs were spread by a bar, too, leaving me exposed and helpless, butwith plenty of room to twist and move.
He pressed a hard, red ball into my hand, telling me to drop it if I wanted to use my safe word.
Then he went to the wall of implements and took down his flogger first. I started shaking before he even landed the first of the warm-up strikes. Eventually, he returned to the wall for a wooden paddle, and the heavy pain that echoed through me with each strike made me sweat.
By the time he’d escalated to a short, red whip—which viciously bit into the skin of my upper back, my ass, and the backs of my thighs—I was dancing from toe to toe, dripping with sweat and tears, drooling everywhere, and hard as hell. A pool of pre-cum grew between my legs where my cock was steadily weeping.
“Gorgeous pain slut,” he muttered, and I shivered at the words. He came close behind me, pressing his hairy chest and stomach to my stinging back. “I can feel the heat just pouring off you, baby.”
I stiffened, loving the praise for the first time ever, adoring the way he called me baby, but also wanting him to call me names, to spit on me, to tear the pain out of my mind and memories.
“You hate it when I’m sweet, don’t you?” he whispered. “At least when we’re down in this room.”
I tried to shrug, but couldn’t in my restraints. I squeezed the ball tightly so I wouldn’t drop it by accident as he scratched his hairy chest against my whipped back again, making me hurt in a way I’d never imagined.
