RequiredSurrender (19 page)

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Authors: Riley Murphy

BOOK: RequiredSurrender
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“I covered the nitty-gritty, yes, but nowhere in there is
the reality, and that’s what I want to talk about before moving further.”

“You think this isn’t reality?” She cut the stack in half.
“At my Master’s discretion the use of wax and fire play shall be tolerated,
providing there is no immediate danger to my person. Should branding be his
desire, and mine also at the time, I will willingly accept the marks he places upon
me or, ah,” she cleared her throat, “in me. That certainly spells, screams,
reeks
of reality to me.”

For the first time since learning she lied to him, Ted
grinned at her. And dammit all to hell. Her heart kicked up speed and her
insides melted.

“Such a little drama queen.” He sat down and ran a hand
through his hair. “This also says that it’s a temporary contract. Three weeks
of discovery before we move forward with a more binding arrangement or decide
to go our separate ways. You’ll be free to do your work from nine to two Monday
through Friday. Your money and possessions are all your own. For now. It’s
nothing more than exclusive time with you that I will own. That’s the reality.”

“I see.”

“No you don’t, but I want you to. I know that Colin has
filled your head with fancy ideas about the concept of a woman’s surrender. To
me that’s all bullshit. I prefer raw and real, not glossed-over niceties.
That’s the difference between entering into a consensual D/s arrangement and a
Master/slave relationship. In most things in life they say the devil is in the
details, with this it’s just the opposite. It’s the broader picture that’s more
important, because the concrete details can always be tweaked, changed or
deleted but the intellectual execution in itself can’t be.”

Jo prided herself in being fairly intelligent, but he lost
her with the broader picture stuff. “Do you have a better way to say what you
mean, or should I fire up my laptop and Google this?”

He sat back. “Look at it this way. If a sub’s gift is her
surrender to her Dominant and one day they find things don’t work out between
them, what happens to that gift when they split? He goes his way and she goes
hers, taking back that gift. So what then? Does she polish it up and put it
back in a box then rewrap it until another Dom comes along to be gifted with
it? How special is that?”

Jo waited for him to say more. When he didn’t she prompted,
“Your point?”

“When someone gives you a gift, they shouldn’t have control
over how or when you use it. They shouldn’t be able to take it back because
it’s yours irrevocably. The difference between a D/s relationship and the one
we will be entering in together is simple. The moment you sign those pages you
will have consented to surrender to me your will, control and decisions. That’s
the only choice for you to make because the rest of the choices are then all
mine. You can’t take back your gift, because in this case?” He patted the
pages. “It would be no better than stealing as that gift is now mine and in my
possession. It is my property to use and enjoy at my discretion. You have no
claim to it.”

It was Jo’s turn to sit back. He was right about one thing.
This was reality.

“I want you fully aware of how I’m looking at this. You’d be
wise to be cautious. The first few weeks are the hardest. I’ve allotted for
three weeks between us, because you’re stubborn, Jo, and that stubbornness
could cause us both to regret doing this. Once this starts I can’t stop it, you
understand? It’s a process that needs to be followed, so there will be no
turning back. If you recall, there’s only one way to end this sooner than the
contractual timeline, and that too is under my control. Only I can release you.
Another vast difference between the D/s arrangement and full binding consent.
Now do you understand why I’m asking you to think this through carefully before
you sign?”

“I think you’re trying to scare me away.”

“You certainly have a lot of faith in me if that’s what you
think.”

When he continued to stare at her she found the courage to
say what she’d wanted so badly to say since messing things up between them. “I
never meant to break the trust between us. I hope you can forgive me.”

“And I hope that isn’t the reason you’re consenting to
this.”

Mostly it was, but she wasn’t going to lie again, so she
remained silent.

“It would be a high price to pay looking for forgiveness.
And for what? Tell me how you think I felt after learning you’d seen him?”

Finally a chance to clear the air. Jo took a deep breath
then blew it out in a rush. “You were upset—”

“Not upset.”

All right. “You were mad because I… Why are you shaking your
head?”

“I wasn’t mad either.”

“Surprised?”

Again he shook his head, but his gaze remained fixed on her.

“W-what then?”

He leaned forward and braced his arms in a cross on the table.
The steady and determined action made him appear bigger than he was, which was
ludicrous because he was huge. Yet, as she felt the heat falling off him, and
was held captive by the fire in his eyes, all she wanted to do was sit back.
Instead she gulped and pretended she wasn’t freaking when he said, “I was
destroyed.”

And he meant it. If the cold flint of his gaze hadn’t
assured her, the hot ice of his stare would have. “I-I’m sorry.” She reached
out to lay a hand over his forearm but stopped when one of his brows shot up in
warning. Feeling awkward and awful all at once, she repeated, “I’m sorry.”

“How often do you say that phrase, Jo?” His voice was low,
but the tone deep enough she paid close attention. “How often have you said it
in a lifetime of mistakes? Did you always mean it? Or is this a phrase thrown
out like a blanket to camouflage the remnants of things you haven’t taken the
time to truly understand and be sorry for?”

“I don’t know about that, but I do know I am sorry about
what happened between us.”

He moved so fast, slapping a palm down on the table between
them, she gasped. When he sat back she remained watchful until he spoke, “I
don’t doubt that you’re sorry, I just don’t think you understand what you
should be sorry for. You haven’t taken the time to think about it fully,
because if you had you’d know an ‘I’m sorry’ isn’t enough.”

“I should have told you. I was going to. I—”

“Stop. This is what I don’t want. I don’t want you to think
we can recover from this. It happened, and it isn’t that it happened that makes
forgiveness impossible. You were hurt and scared. Desperate, I understand these
things especially in a strong woman like you, but it’s your damn strength that
leads to your downfall every time. You didn’t just decide
not
to tell me
the truth that night. You steered us away from it by using me. Getting me to
expose my personal and private truths instead. Tell me,” she imagined he turned
that phrase on her as a reminder, “were you relieved when I did?”

It was one glimpse. A flash, really, of naked vulnerability
that cut her to the quick and took her breath away. A person’s pain was always
difficult to face, but seeing it on a man like him totally unnerved her. And
knowing she was the cause left her completely numb.

“I…” She wanted to say that she hadn’t done it on purpose,
but now that he brought it up, she wasn’t so sure. “I…”

A full thirty seconds ticked by before he said, “Now do you
understand why there’s no going back for me? You used me because you didn’t
trust me enough. Respect me enough as a man in your life deserving of those
things that night, so if we move forward now it will be by my measure. My
making. I will demand your respect and expect your trust. Not as a man, but as
your Master.”

Jo thought she couldn’t get any more numb, but then he
added, “This is a gift I am offering to you. It’s the gift of ultimate freedom.
Of never having to be in control again. If you make a mistake, like you did
that night in the bath, it will be my job to correct you. Every single triumph
and all your failures I will own, do you understand?”

“Forever?”

He nodded. “If we move forward after the three-week trial,
yes.”

She searched his face as her blood started to circulate
again. Reason returned and so did sanity. “That’s…this is no better than…”

“The way a true marriage was intended to be?”

“No. Yes. Maybe in the dark ages.” She crossed her arms over
her chest and tried to calm down. He’d dangled the carrot right in front of
her, and just before she took a bite out of it, he’d snatched it away. She
couldn’t agree to this. This went against every grain in her feminist body.
She’d be no better than a fifties housewife locked up for her husband’s
pleasure until she didn’t please him anymore, and then what? He’d be entitled
to divorce her anytime he chose to, but if he didn’t please her, she was
expected to deal with it? Screw that.

“I’m glad you’re thinking about it.”

Her brows rose, she couldn’t help it because if he had any
idea what was going on in her mind right now she was sure he’d be pissed.

 

Ted watched Jo trying to wrestle with the concept. He’d
purposely made this as difficult and gut-wrenching as possible for her on the
hopes she’d change her mind and walk away. One of them should and he knew it
wasn’t going to be him.

“So, um,” she used her thumb to flip through the corner
stack of papers, watching the fanning sheets, while one leg bopped up and down,
“if I agree to this for the three weeks and find that it’s not ideal for me,
that’s it?”

“That’s it.”

She eyed him and nodded. “Okay, I trust you.”

He grabbed her hand just before she got the pen to paper.
“Don’t.”

Frowning, she tilted her head. “I’m going to sign it.”

“I meant don’t sign this unless you truly mean to trust me.”

“I do,” she yanked her hand out of his grasp and shrugged,
“I will.”

Every muscle in his body tensed, and he held his breath.

“There.”

The air rushed out of his lungs by the time she finished
executing the last page with a flourish. He didn’t let her straighten them He
was too intent on claiming them. Owning them, like he did her from this moment
on, until their three weeks together was up.

“Are you all right?”

“Me?” He eased his grip on the pages and nodded. “Yes, I’m
fine. Now,” he put the contract into the drawer of the desk and the moment it
was safely locked away he felt infinitely better. Back to himself. Connected.
“Did you do as I instructed?”

“Yes. My suitcase is in the car.”

He looked up. “Suitcase?”

“Yes. With my clothes and personal items.”

“Any personal items you’ll need while you’re with me, we’ll
buy this afternoon and who told you to bring clothes?”

She frowned. “Of course I’m going to bring clothes. You
don’t expect me to be naked 24/7, do you?”

“I expect you to wear the outfit I want you to wear when you
are not naked, that’s what I expect.”

“The outfit? As in one?” She held up her finger and stared
at him.

He nodded.

“That’s crazy.”

“No. It’s practical. Have you ever heard Einstein’s theory
on clothes?”

“He had a theory about fashion?”

“Yes.”

“Can’t say as I’ve heard that one. Relativity,” she recited
her limited list, “M equals M C squared…clothes? No.”

“He believed that the choosing of one’s clothes was a
distraction. The matter of choice took away from the brain’s power to
concentrate and focus on more important issues.”

“Do you have a point you’re getting to?”

“Yes, for the next three weeks
your
more important
issue that I don’t want you distracted from will be me and the training I’m
going to put you through. For the duration you will wear your outfit or nothing
at all. Today however, you’ll go as you are while we shop and go to your
fitting.”

“A fitting for my outfit?”

“No.”

“And it’s not a fitting for more clothes?”

“After what I just said, wouldn’t buying you clothes be
counterproductive?”

“So what am I being fitted for? A little French maid’s
uniform?”

“Don’t be glib. You’re going to be fitted for a collar and
cuffs. As to the outfit you’ll wear, it has two pieces. Do you want to see a
set?”

“A collar?”

“Don’t look so shocked. Most slaves wear collars, and you’re
not just any slave. You’re my slave.”

“But this is only temporary.”

“I don’t want you thinking of it like that because for all
intents and purposes it’s going to be as real and as raw as I can make it for
the next three weeks until it comes time to decide.”

She stared at him.

“Are you having second thoughts?”

“N-no.”

“Good—”

“Do I get to keep my dragon pillow at least?”

“Not if you interrupt me again.” He stared her down until
her expression lost some of its blister. Then he said, “You have two hours for
business, and then you’re mine. We’ll use the afternoon to get set, and tonight
we’ll go over the finer details.”

He turned to leave her to her work, but she called, “Didn’t
the contract cover those? What kind of details didn’t we cover with all that
paperwork?”

Ted walked back to her and took hold of her chin. He wasn’t
gentle when he lifted, because she had an attitude he didn’t like. Best for her
to know right from the start that he was a new man. Her Master who would not
put up with her sass.

“We didn’t cover where your place is in my home. What you’ll
be allowed to do, eat and say while you’re mine. There are rules and rituals.
Things I expect and things I do not expect. You’ll have to learn them all in
order to please me. If you don’t there will be consequences, make no mistake.
From now on you address me as Master or Sir. You never speak to my back and you
don’t raise your voice even to call to me. You come to my side and wait for
permission to address me, do you understand?”

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