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“I’m not allowed to give you that information.”
“Fuck that… Damon. Who?”
“A man named Brock.” I’m frozen solid, paralyzed just thinking about him doing this to me. Not only did he torture me by cheating and playing mind games in our relationship, he wanted to subject me to the mind fuck of that competition.
“He knew it would be televised and you’d be training me in all of that?”
“Yes.”
“How could you make me think you found me by chance? That your assistant stumbled upon me on social media and you thought I’d be perfect.”
“It’s irrelevant now don’t you think? I pulled us from the competition and that’s all behind us now.”
“No it’s not irrelevant. Knowing all of this makes me sick. What does the winner get?”
“Six million… that’s one million from each Dom and then half the royalties from the show. The other five Doms will each get ten percent of the royalties.”
“Are you kidding me? Why did you give me money?”
“I knew it would take that to get you involved. I considered you an investment. I had two weeks to find you, convince you to join and also train you.”
“Jesus… was all of it a lie? Do you even own the bar and the cave?”
“Everything else is real. I own many properties, which is why I’m not worried about the money. So stop overreacting to this.”
“Damon… do not down play all of this. My ex is an asshole and this is the perfect example of that idiot. I’m pissed I fell for it.”
“Actually you didn’t. If you remember you weren’t exactly a perfect submissive.”
“I know I wasn’t. But if you remember, I tried to tell you I wouldn’t be.”
“You did.”
“Will Brock get anything from all of this?”
“It’s set up to prove we can train any single person out there… those who refer to us are doing it as a challenge. If we fail at making you a submissive, the money falls back to the person who referred you.”
“He’s going to get money from this?”
“Yes.”
“No fucking way.” I’m pacing again. That asshole shouldn’t get a penny from anything that involves me. “How did he convince you to choose me?”
“He said you write sex books, but are a prude in the bedroom. I thought maybe you just needed to experience true pleasure. Usually women aren’t prude… just bored. Which seems to have been the case with you, because you are far from prude with me.”
“What do I have to do to keep him from getting any money?”
“You have to complete the final part of the competition today.”
“Fuck. How does this crazy shit happen to me? I’m a home body. I’m safe from insanity.”
His laughter echoes through the room. “That may have been true before you met me.”
“Where does this leave us?”
“The same place we were before the conversation started. I’ve pulled us from the competition and he’ll get my share. I don’t give a shit about any of this now.” He finally stands to hold me… calming me from my irrational thoughts of screaming out in frustration.
How in the hell do I let him get anything out of this? I can’t stomach what that asshole’s smug face will look like when he receives it. I can practically see it in my mind.
“Get ready. We’re going back to the cave. I’m going to do this so he doesn’t get a damn dime.” I begin rambling as I move through the room to gather what I need for my shower. “He thinks I’m fucking prude… well if I could’ve actually felt his centimeter peter, maybe I would’ve wanted more of it.” I’m so over allowing men making me feel inadequate.
I’m going to do this… I’m going back into this competition with an all new mindset. I can do anything I want to and now that I’ve spent this time with Damon, I trust him completely. Like he said… all we need is trust. How hard can this be? Hell, I don’t even know what I just agreed to, but it doesn’t matter.
