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Authors: Lydia Michaels

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BOOK: Protege
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She frowned. “I . . . I don't know if I'd qualify it as the same humiliation I'd feel if a lover slapped me in the face. I was upset, but . . . I haven't really dwelled on that night.”

Her honesty fascinated him. He found it difficult to question her sincerity. Softly, he asked, “Have you felt humiliated since then?”

She sighed. “Maybe the definitions are the same, but if anything, I've been embarrassed at times, having my limits pushed farther than they've ever been, but that isn't always a bad thing. In my opinion, humiliation hurts and sometimes scars. It lingers. Embarrassment can be as simple as the anxious energy I feel when I walk into a room full of strangers.”

“Are you saying you qualify one as natural and the other as intentional?” Her interpretation of the different definition was what mattered, not what the dictionary said.

“Yes, I believe that's what I'm trying to say.”

His mouth curved as he savored their honest exchange. It showed courage on her part and a bone-deep tendency to be honest with him—something he respected very much. And a true measure of how much she'd grown in a short time.

He ran a gentle hand over her jaw, cupping her face lightly. Softly, he whispered, “You are beautiful, Collette. A strong yet delicate creature deserving of care and affection. Never settle for less. Do you understand?”

“Yes, Sir.”

“I apologize for overstepping before. It was an oversight I now recognize, and I'll do my best not to repeat such carelessness. I had only wanted to make a point. It was never my intention to humiliate you.”

Her eyes, when they found his, held a strange expression. It was as though his accountability and honest apology surprised her. But why? He was as human as she, and no one in this game called life was infallible.

Disliking the vulnerable sense she evoked in him, he cleared his throat and blanked his expression. “Shoulders up.”

She quickly broke eye contact and corrected her positioning.

“Good girl.” He paced away in order to collect himself.

Once his composure slid back into place he continued. “Now, I want you to think about the role you desire. There are various degrees of D/s relationships, and the labels usually put things into perspective. I'm happy to explain any of the dynamics you don't understand as well as offer you literature on the subject if you'd like to read into the meanings.”

“Perhaps just an overview, Sir?”

“I agree. There are many labels: Owner/slave, Master/pet, puppy, kitten, Daddy/baby, and so on. It is important to know how you see yourself in a future relationship so you aren't placed in an unsuitable situation. While I prefer my sub to manage the household, as it actually provides her with an outlet for her own autonomy, I do not desire a slave. However, if you desire that role, I'll accommodate you for the length of your training. Do you have any questions so far?”

“I'm not really sure of the difference implied.”

That was fair. She was very new to such terms. “I suppose the best way to explain the difference is to base each title on the desired level of authority and subservience—humiliation also comes into play depending on each individual's likes and dislikes. Some, but not all, prefer to feel dehumanized. It's a freeing quality only their owner can deliver.”

He studied her as she processed his words. Although they were not completely familiar at this stage, her personality so far gave the impression she enjoyed her independence too much to venture into an Owner/slave relationship. Perhaps part of him was hoping she wouldn't, as he enjoyed the many facets and sparks her character brought to the table. It would be a pity to see that fire in her eyes dulled.

“Share your thoughts, peach.”

A breathy chuckle passed her lips. “They're moving a little too fast for me at the moment. You say
slave
and nothing pleasant comes to mind. Perhaps I've had too many history classes.”

He grinned. “And
pet
?”

Her nose crinkled. “No offense, but I wouldn't want to be looked upon as an animal beneath her partner.”

“Some pets are cherished by their owners, as they should be.”

She laughed again. “I feel like Goldilocks.”

His grin stretched as he chuckled at her analogy. “And I intend to find a fit for you that's
just right
. Do you feel comfortable with the term
Daddy
?”

“No.” Her answer was quick.

“You're certain?”

“I have a father. Sometimes I feel as though I have two, the one who raised me and the one who murdered my mother. I don't need another one to confuse my terminology more than it already is.”

“Fair enough.”

He agreed with her answers, finding her explanations appropriate for what he already knew and assumed about her. “Is it fair to say that you are seeking a very mild version of the Dominant/submissive dynamic? You seem at home in the kitchen and with others matters of the house.”

“I like taking care of others. When there's a specific set of guidelines and expectations, it makes it easy to succeed.”

And she liked succeeding when it came to others' expectations. “Well put. And does having a dominant bring you relief?”

“So far I like it. The more I experience everything, the more comfortable I am to depend on it.”

“You can depend on it, Collette. That's what it's all about.” Or should be. He shoved his jaded opinions and disappointing experiences aside, in order to give her what should ultimately be the truth of every decent D/s relationship. “It brings me—a Dom—great joy to earn a sub's trust. And it hurts us when we know we've dropped the ball or let a sub down. Your disappointment's as meaningful as ours.”

Her brow creased, her face angling low. “But I've disappointed you.”

He frowned, trying to recall any moment she might be referring to. “Never severely.”

“You've spanked me during sex.”

“And enjoyed it thoroughly. Don't confuse my meaning, peach. I'm no softy when in the heat of matters. When I use my size to dominate you, I will, effortlessly. And when I want to take for
my
pleasure, I will. Just as on our first night I had no issue dishing out discipline for your behavior, I will again without hesitating, if I see fit. I'll always respect you and your limits, but that doesn't necessarily mean I won't enjoy correcting you should you earn aggressive play at times. Don't confuse that with true punishment. You'll eventually learn the difference.”

Something stern flashed in her gaze for a moment and his lip twitched, sensing she'd eventually challenge him. “What if I find your punishment humiliating?”

“We've defined humiliation. The questionnaire you completed gave a fair impression of your triggers, but I'm most interested in your version. That's all that matters, that your Dom knows
your
definition and respects it. Others will surely disagree with you, but I'm not responsible for them.”

“I suppose it's as I said, a feeling a shame. A sense of unshakable mortification. Being exposed
on purpose
.”

Her definition was indeed prudent compared to others, but he understood. He'd seen Doms insist their subs crawl around the house and behave as animals. “I humiliated you with Lea.” Personal disappointment lingered and he picked at the topic again. Ironic, that his own behavior humiliated him, thereby leaving a lingering sense of shame.

Her gaze lowered. “Yes, but I understand why you did it.”

“Why?” he asked, his voice soft.

“Because I questioned you after you asked me not to, and you wanted to show me what I agreed to.”

He studied her naked form as he debated whether her understanding was equal to forgiveness. He wanted to forgive his oversight, but couldn't until he was certain she had. “Your terms, should we say, have been modified. But I want to be crystal clear, Collette, because I don't want to humiliate you—ever. Would it humiliate you if Lea or another person walked in here now?” Fear was a definite motivator, but not his motivator of choice.

She met his gaze. “Not as much. I've been naked more than I've been clothed since coming here. The other night the women at dinner gave me the impression that they also spend a lot of time undressed.”

“Except the ones with children.” Getting back to the matter, he said, “So would you still consider the first night humiliating? Perspective's a relative matter, and your point of view is undergoing an extreme evolution of sorts.”

“No, I'd consider it a lesson learned, Sir.”

“Very good, peach. And when I spanked you yesterday during sex?”

“I liked it.” She smirked but tried to hide her face from view.

He grinned. “There will be times you won't.”

Her lips parted and she swallowed. “I hope that's not true.”

He studied her. A good Dom trusted his instincts. Something about her, something he couldn't put his finger on, told him she'd respond to spanking once her guards came down. Whether he'd enjoy divvying out such true punishments was a different question. He'd have the answer when they crossed that bridge—a bridge leading to her permanent placement. He could do anything once, so long as it was for the benefit of her experience.

Quietly, he shared a bit of his instinct. “Not only is it true, peach, if I'm gauging your level of submission correctly, I'm betting you'll ask for a spanking before our time's up, and not for the pleasure of it. There's a liberation when taken in hand, and should you ask for such a thing and I find your behavior in need of correction, I'll unquestioningly service you. I want you happy and whole, after all.”

She didn't look like she agreed, though she didn't come out and disagree, which he knew she was able to do if something didn't sit right with her. He liked that she kept an open mind. Still, he needed to dispel any fear that she might be mistreated without explanation. The last thing he wanted was for her to fear him.

“Now, this is where people worry about blurring the line between BDSM and abuse. I could strike you after a spanking to show you the difference, but that would never happen. Ever. If I'm ever in a foul enough mood that my control's threatened, I'll ask you to leave me alone until otherwise directed. I'll always ask this before reacting in a physical way, be it positive or negative. And should you require a physical reprimand, I'll only deliver it when I feel I'm in complete control of myself and you're aware of what's happening and why. You never need to fear me, Collette.”

“Do you anticipate me disappointing you, Sir? If there's something I'm not doing, please—”

“You please me very much, Collette. Patience is the first trait every submissive needs, and you have it in spades. Your fortitude has allowed you to accept my direction with little friction. Don't take my meaning as a suggestion that you've disappointed me. If you had, you'd know it.”

“But do you anticipate it? Does the idea excite you?”

Her question surprised him and he had to consider his response carefully. “Honestly? Yes and no. Disappointment, I find, is a stronger emotion than any thrill. While I'd be lying if I claimed spanking a compliant female isn't arousing, there are varying levels of discipline. Brattiness is easily navigated and often ends in my own personal gain—the price for such. Topping from the bottom is evidence of a poorly trained sub and a distracted Dom. However, a true punishment would be the result of a direct violation in terms of a relationship. Such a violation is disappointing and I dislike having to dish out such cold correction, as necessary as it may be, depending on my partner's circumstances and needs. Suffice it to say, physical correction is not something I decide upon lightly.”

The tension in her face eased. “So it doesn't excite you.”

“Not in that context, no.” She nodded her understanding and he held out a hand. “Come sit with me, Collette.”

Slowly she rose, her body unfolding in a grand display of femininity. Her hips flared as her breasts slightly jiggled, and, again, he was tempted to take her. He sat on the couch and pulled her to his lap. For several minutes he simply combed his fingers through her curls until she settled into a comfortable position.

“There's a common misconception that every Dom is a sadist. That's not at all true. While I yearn for a D/s dynamic, as do many others, only a few of us are true sadists. I don't have a dungeon or a cage anywhere on my property. That's not to say I don't enjoy tying people up from time to time. We all have our personal kinks.”

He gently brushed her hair behind her shoulder. “However, as a Dom, I take my responsibility to protect my sub
very
seriously. The thought of someone in my care suffering unintentionally is abhorrent to me. Aside from abandonment, there's nothing more crushing than inadvertently hurting the one I'm expected to cherish and protect. But I'm human.”

Something he had to remind himself of again and again. It wasn't that he was so lost in a power play that he believed himself omnipotent. No, that ego bubble burst the moment his wife left him for someone else. However, it was human nature to make mistakes, and he needed to repeatedly tell himself his mistakes were worth forgiving in order to move on. Even Doms had limits. He was getting there.

The unfortunate thing about losing his wife was that he never learned how to stop caring about her well-being. It was hardwired into him the day he said his vows and promised to always love and protect her. The man she was with now was not someone he knew or felt comfortable with her knowing. Yes, like most Doms he was a bit of a control freak.

Tiffany had asked for more than he felt safe giving her. While some desired an element of danger in their scenes, he simply could not, in good conscience, put the woman he loved at risk. The man she was currently with was rumored to dabble in breath and knife play.

BOOK: Protege
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