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Rebecca
She sighed and dropped the pen. A weight lifted off her shoulders. She’d faced her mistakes head-on and put them into words. It was a small step, but it was the beginning of her journey toward redemption.
CHAPTER 13
Dante settled comfortably in the plush armchair in his guestroom and propped his left ankle on his right knee. Using his phone, he caught up on the latest news and responded to a few pressing emails. He tried to focus on the screen, the words and images demanding his attention. However, a part of his consciousness remained attuned to the intriguing woman he had taken under his care.
He resisted the urge to turn his gaze toward her as she worked on her essay. Instead, he gave her the space she needed to complete the task he’d assigned her. He knew that this exercise was essential for her growth and self-reflection, and he didn’t want to distract her with his presence.
As the minutes ticked by, he listened intently, his ears catching snippets of her pen scratching against the paper.
“I’m done, Sir.” Rebecca’s voice broke through the silence in the room.
Dante set his phone aside and turned his full attention to her. He lowered his left leg and leaned his elbows on his knees. A subtle exhale escaped him as he watched Rebecca. This exercise was serving its purpose. Her posture had shifted. The tension that once held her body captive now released its grip. Her shoulders, previously rigid, now drooped slightly, as if a weight had been lifted from them. The lines of tension that had marred her face, etching worry and apprehension, had softened, replaced by a calm sweetness and womanly grace.
A genuine smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he acknowledged her accomplishment. “Good girl,” he praised. “May I read it?”
Rebecca moved closer, clutching the pad tightly in her hands. “Uh-huh,” she nodded before stammering, “I... um... I wrote it twice.”
Dante reached out and pulled her between his legs. I like having her close. He shelved the thought for a later moment and focused on the present. His fingers brushed against hers, a silent reassurance as he considered her admission.
“Twice?” he asked, prompting her to continue.
Rebecca swallowed, her gaze dropping as she tried to convey the emotions and thoughts that had led her to rewrite her essay. “The first one,” she began, “was all technical, focused on following your assignment to the letter. But halfway through, I realized that wasn’t the heart of the essay.”
She hesitated for a moment before pushing the pad into his hands, her nervousness turning to vulnerability. Her gaze met his. Dante saw a glimmer of hope in her eyes as if she had finally found the courage to reveal her true self through her words.
It was time for another lesson.
“Please kneel while I read this,” he ordered.
Her mouth slackened and she swallowed before awkwardly lowering herself to the floor.
“Good girl.” Dante placed the legal pad on the side table and bent forward to adjust her posture. “When I ask you to kneel, I want you to do this. If you’re in a room with carpet or an area rug like this, you can kneel right away. If you’re somewhere with stone flooring, you can get a pillow or a towel to protect your knees. Some Doms prefer their submissives to place their hands behind their backs or necks. Especially when you have to kneel for a long time, I think those postures are too arduous to maintain. For now, I want you to sit back on your heels. I like your hands on your knees with your palms facing up.”
He stroked her hair and hummed his approval as she shifted into the position he requested. “You might wonder why I’m putting you in this position. Firstly, kneeling can be part of a ritual or protocol, a formalized behavior within the D/s relationship. It can also be a sign of submission and respect, a physical manifestation of the power dynamic. It’s not just about authority but an expression of trust and respect. The psychological impact is profound. The act of kneeling can enhance the emotional experience, making the submissive feel more submissive and the Dominant more in control. And of course, there’s an aesthetic or erotic element for many people.”
Rebecca stared up at him. “It’s fascinating how a single action can convey so much. Anything else?”
Dante smiled. “Yes, and here’s where it gets really interesting and, I believe, beautiful. Sometimes, a submissive is asked to kneel for comfort and safety. It might seem counterintuitive, but this position can offer security and protection. It’s a position that, while vulnerable, can also signify a safe space, especially during more intense scenes.”
Rebecca cocked her head and hummed. “I hadn’t thought of it that way. That’s quite touching, actually.” Beneath his hands, her body relaxed.
Dante squeezed her shoulder. “Indeed. And last but not least, one of my favorite aspects, and the reason I want you on your knees right now, is mindfulness and focus. In a world that demands our attention, kneeling helps the submissive center themselves, grounding them in the moment and in their role. Lower your head and drop your gaze. That’s it.” He continued to stroke and massage her shoulders and neck as he waited for her to settle into the mindset. “It’s almost meditative, allowing for a mental state where one can be truly present with their partner and the experience.”
Rebecca sighed and Dante sank back into the comfortable chair. He watched her for a few moments before he picked up the essay she had written.
As he read through Rebecca’s words, he began to see beneath the surface, beyond her impulsive actions and naive choices. She had bared her soul on the pages of that essay, revealing layers of insecurity and self-doubt that ran far deeper than he initially realized. Her motivations for snooping around Rawhide Ranch were not just curiosity; they were rooted in a need to escape feelings of inadequacy that haunted her.
The tingling in his chest grew as he read about her initial excitement at discovery. He could almost picture her wide-eyed and filled with wonder as she stumbled upon the Butterfly and Caterpillar rooms. Had she opened the door to one of the schoolrooms? How had she reacted to the sight of desks lined up in neat rows facing the front of the classroom? Perhaps her eyes had widened as she read some assignment written across the chalkboard. Or maybe her pulse had increased when opening a drawer in the teacher’s desk to find a thick paddle or a heavy wooden spoon waiting to be applied to the bare backside of an errant pupil? But Dante’s heart went out to her when she spoke of being caught and the ensuing guilt and misery. He understood the weight of her actions, the burden of invading others’ privacy, and the overwhelming sense of remorse that had washed over her.
Rebecca’s words painted a vivid picture of her emotional turmoil. The hardening of her stomach, the tightness in her chest—all sensations he could empathize with. She described her self-blame in a way that resonated with Dante. It was as if she couldn’t forgive herself for her impulsive choices.
He continued to read, turning the essay pages. It wasn’t just a confession of her actions; it was a journey of self-discovery. She began to recognize her own shortcomings and insecurities, and that self-awareness filled Dante with hope. He believed in her potential for growth, for change, and he knew she could overcome the demons that had driven her to snoop around.
As he reached the conclusion of the essay, a driving need welled up within Dante. He wanted to take care of her, protect her from her own insecurities, and help her grow into the confident and capable person he knew she could become. Something in his chest opened. This was what attracted him to the D/s lifestyle in the first place.
Dante’s eyes pricked and he had to blink several times as he finished reading the essay. The depth of Rebecca’s pain and insecurity rang through her words and tugged at his heartstrings.
