Page 1 of Sanctuary After Dark

Chapter 1

There are fifteen tiles on the ceiling in my ten-by-ten room. Fifteen tiles that I've stared at for the past nine months I've been here. Fifteen tiles that are supposed to all be identical, but after staring at them for nine months, you start to notice the imperfections.

There's a crack in one; one corner is a little wonky by the window, and the design is slightly off in another corner. Not one of them is like the others, even though they're all supposed to be identical. Little imperfections that make them unique, and when you stare at them long enough, you notice, and then you can't stop staring.

You can't stop seeing those imperfections, no matter how hard they try to hide them. It's like they scream at you, "LOOK AT ME!", and you can't help but look. You can't help but fixate on it. Fixate on the fact that they're different.

Then you fixate on the fact that you were told they were identical when clearly they're not, so you feel you were lied to. Logically, you know they didn't mean to lie to you. That's just how it happens sometimes. Rarely is anything completely identical, so when you're told that they're identical, you believe them. At first, you see it. The similar patterns and the cohesive design. But when you focus and pay attention, you notice the differences they try to hide by blending in.

Because blending in is easier.

Blending in keeps you safe.

Sighing, I sit up in bed and finally look away from the ceiling tiles. Pulling my sleeves down over my hands, I swing my legs off the bed and stand up, heading for the door. It's time for my therapy appointment. I don't need to check the time on the wall clock because I've had this appointment every day for the past nine months.

My life right now is a routine. A list of things that I need to do every day. The staff of Three Rivers Rehabilitation Center laid out a list of routines for me. I have lived and struggled in this place since the day I was rescued from my nightmare.

I don't even really remember that day; I was so high. It comes in bits and pieces. The prick of the needle in my arm in the morning, another routine I was forced to have by someone I thought loved me. The euphoric feeling when the heroin hit my bloodstream, and the way my body seemed to float. Bodies floating in and out, touching me, using me, hurting me. His voice in my ear, threatening me to be good. To be good for Daddy. To be good for the men that Daddy said could touch me and do whatever they wanted.

And they did. They did whatever they wanted to me. My body is littered with scars to prove it. But not just physical scars, but emotional scars as well. Scars that keep me up at night or wake me from precious sleep.

Scars that I hide under baggy, long-sleeved shirts and oversized hoodies. Baggy jeans that do nothing for my figure. And that's the point. I don't want anyone to see me. It's a far cry from the wardrobe I wore before I met him. But I need to hide now. I need to cover the scars because they make me different. They make me stand out, and I can't stand out. Standing out got me into the mess I was in originally. Standing out and being different got me noticed, and once I was in his gaze, he wasn't going to let me go. Not without a fight, anyway.

Eventually, I began to crave the escape that heroin gave me. I hated when I was sober and would beg for him to give me more because I didn't want to be present for anything that happened to me. It numbed the pain and let me float away, and that was the best gift anyone could give me. Just that slight reprieve. Then, when the drugs wore off, I was right back in hell. The pain would set in, and I would clean myself up as best I could.

Looking up at the door when I arrived, I stared at it for a moment. I was so lost in thought that I hadn't noticed the journey through the halls to get here. This door was familiar, and so was the man behind it. A man who had actually become important to me and someone I trusted when I didn't think I would trust anyone again. Doctor Alec Stone. The man who had rescued me from my hell and gotten me the help that I needed. He made sure I went to the hospital, and he visited me every single day.

Alec had eventually taken me on as his patient because I felt comfortable talking to him. He had seen me at my worst. He knew the situation of my addiction and my trauma. But he understood me because he was a dom and was into BDSM as well. He understood what it meant to live it as a lifestyle rather than just having certain kinks. Because of that, I felt comfortable talking to him about being a submissive.

He also understood why that made what happened to me so much worse. That someone I was supposed to trust more than anyone in the entire world, someone who was supposed to protect me and take care of me, had broken that trust so irrevocably. That was a different kind of hurt. A different kind of pain and hollowness. And Alec understood that. He understood how delicate the relationship between a dom and a sub was and how much the sub relied on and trusted their dom. The betrayal of that trust was unforgivable.

There was also the fact that in most dynamics, there was a level of behavior modification training that subs went through. Depending on what kind of dynamic you had with someone depended on the severity of that training. Being in a DDlb relationship, I went through a lot because I was supposed to rely on my Daddy for most things.

Suddenly breaking that dynamic and that trust was a hell all on its own. Alec and I had been working tirelessly to break that process of thinking in my mind. Where I thought it was all my fault and that if I had just been a good boy, my Daddy wouldn't have hurt me. It was a long road of recovery, retraining my mind.

Gripping my sleeves in my hands, I raised one and knocked on the door. Hearing the invitation to come in, I opened the door and stepped inside, closing it behind me. This room was familiar, too. The plush carpet that I dug my toes in for a moment since I usually went barefoot, the windows with vining plants hanging from the curtain rod, the comfortable brown couch that I always sank into the corner on, the warm accents in the decor and the potted plants that made me feel like I was in a little slice of jungle, the desk in the corner with the filing cabinets and more plants, and the familiar face of Dr. Alec Stone sitting in his armchair in front of the couch smiling at me.

"Elias. Come in." Alec nodded towards the couch where a fluffy blanket was already waiting for me. On the coffee table in front of the couch was a mug of chai latte with oat milk steaming in it. Shuffling in, I sat down on the couch and pulled my legs up to curl next to me. I cover them with the fluffy blanket before reaching for the mug. Smiling softly as I lifted the mug and inhaled the scent of the spices. Letting the warmth flow over me and calm me down a bit. I could feel the tension leaving my body already.

It was my ultimate comfort drink, and its scent always seemed to relax me a little. Taking a sip, I couldn't help but let out a brief hum of satisfaction when the sweet and creamy tea hit my taste buds. Alec knew exactly how I liked my chai lattes. Strong chai with lots of sugar and just a dash of oat milk. It was another thing that I really liked about him. He always made sure that I was comfortable. Settling down with the mug between my hands on my lap, I look over at Alec properly now.

He's wearing his usual dark jeans, a gray button-down shirt, and a soft-looking black cardigan, barefoot as well. Alec Stone is a very handsome man. Something I noticed right away. His brown hair was longer on top and shorter on the sides; his warm hazel-colored eyes behind his gold wire-frame glasses; a clean-shaven, sharp jawline; and I could tell he works out even through his layers of clothing. He always gives off an air of comfort that I appreciate. Something about him just screamed that he was approachable.

"Ready to start?" He asks me as he flips open his notebook that's resting on his lap.

I nod and wiggle a little to sink further down into the soft cushion of the couch. This is how all of our sessions have started. He waited for me to get settled before we started. Making sure I'm comfortable before anything else.

"Tomorrow is a big day. How are you feeling about it?" I watch as he rests his right ankle on the knee of his left leg.

Tomorrow is my last day at Three Rivers Rehabilitation. I finished my nine-month program, and I'll be back out in the real world again. Although re-entering the real world will look a little different for me than for others.

Alec pulled some strings and booked me a long-term stay at his kink club, of which he's a member. With BDSM being such a core part of me, we both decided that exposure therapy would be my best option. While I want to enter the lifestyle again, there's a lot of trauma that comes with it for me. After everything I've been through the past couple of years, I'm terrified to be a submissive again. To trust someone so completely that I hand over control to them and be at my most vulnerable. But I crave it so much, too. My mind and body wound up so tight already at having to stay in control of every single thing in my life. It was exhausting. So no matter how scared I was to go back to the lifestyle, I knew I needed to do it. I wanted to do it. More than anything. It would also be much safer and more structured than going to a halfway house, which would have been my other option..

"Alright, I guess," I mumbled as I stared down at the mug in my hands.

"Elias."

Sighing at his stern yet gentle voice, I turn to look out the window at the garden outside while I gather my thoughts. It's sunny today with fluffy white clouds in the blue sky, and the leaves are finally growing back on the trees and bushes. Spring is finally upon us, and it's symbolic in a way that I'm leaving here right as Spring is setting in. A new beginning for the city and for me as well.