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She nodded, unable to speak past the lump in her throat. He was being so patient, she didn’t want to screw it up.
“Okay, so let’s start again. Concentrate on what I’m telling you. Listen to my words and try to follow them.”
“Okay.”
“Close your eyes, Teigen. Keep your breathing slow—that’s right—and relax your shoulders…your arms…your chest…your hips…your legs.”
His voice came through loud and clear, blocking out all others. “Your arms are starting to feel heavy. You can’t lift them, can you?”
She could curl her fingers inward, but her arms were like dead weights. She didn’t want to even try to lift them. “No, I can’t.”
“That’s good, Teigen. Now your body is sinking into the bed, your legs heavy as well.”
The bed enveloped her, surrounding her in softness, compelling her to yield to its hold.
“I want you to listen to me carefully, Teigen. If you feel like it’s too much, you are to say ‘Red.’ You can do that even when you are in trance. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.”
He stroked her lightly, making every cell on her skin feel alive. “You are mine now, Teigen. You are safe here. I will take care of you. Do you understand?”
Safe.Yes, she wanted to feel safe. Safe from her parents. Safe from Bobby. Safe from her bad dreams.
“Do you know you are a good girl, that you deserve to be happy?”
That familiar feeling of dread sent tentacles of doubt through her. “I’m not sure,” she whimpered.
“Do you trust me, Teigen?”
Did she? Everything about Ellison reassured her. His intelligence, his dominance, his caring for her when they played. If she let him, he could help her. And she so wanted him to help her. “Yes. I trust you.”
“Well, I’m telling you the truth. You deserve to be happy, to feel good about yourself, to experience pleasure.”
He sounded so convincing, she almost believed him. Could it be true? Could she finally find peace within herself?
A filmy soft fabric blanketed her torso. “I want you to take this silk scarf and smooth it over your skin.”
The soft fabric tickled her as she skimmed it over her body, causing her to squirm. She wanted to wrap herself in its smoothness.
“How does that feel, Teigen?”
“It’s so soft.” She rubbed it over her face, breathing in the scent he had sprayed over it. “It smells lovely too. Like lilacs. I love lilacs.”
“You’re doing so well, Teigen. The scarf is your pathway to pleasure. Everywhere you touch yourself with it, you will feel pleasure. As you move it over your body, your arousal will increase. Brush it down your chest, see how it feels.
Holding it on one end, she allowed it to drape over her skin. Swish. Swish. She became lost in an ethereal daze of bliss. Compelled to keep the feeling going, she wadded up one end so it would be firmer to the touch. Her nipple pebbled as the scarf grazed over it, her arousal heightening as she moved from one breast to the other. Shivers went down her spine, and a tingly feeling settled in her pussy.
“That feels wonderful, doesn’t it?”
“Oooh, yes.” She didn’t stop as he spoke, overcome with the strangeness of being so in tune with her body, nothing else mattered.
“You can make yourself feel good any time you want.”
Her senses were on high alert, her muscles tensing under the barrage of stimulation .
“Your body reacts to touch when you relax and let it happen.”
A thought penetrated her haze: Was pleasure really in her power?
