Page 24 of Brave
Startled, Puppy glanced at their reflections in the mirror over the sink. She saw her. Just normal her, as slender as menagerie girls were supposed to be. She didn’t think she was bony. In fact, staring at herself, all she could think about was once more having to eat that special diet Ethen would put them back on as soon as he got out. The daily weigh-ins would start up again. The tape measure would come out.
She ought to go ahead and eat the burger Carlson had ordered for her, for that reason alone. She didn’t have a lot of time or chances left. She could cut the burger in half and take part home to Pony. Not that Pony would eat it, she’d always had an iron will when it came to following Ethen’s edicts.
The longer she stared at herself, the fuller her face and narrow frame seemed to grow. A moment on the lips… She looked away. She didn’t need Ethen’s scale or measuring tape to remind her of her flaws. She could see them clearly enough. “You don’t understand.”
“I understand that you’re telling me you want me to be your Dom, and yet you’re unwilling to give me the same courtesy and respect that any other submissive would give to their dominant. You’re not even willing to give me the same respect you gave Ethen O’Dowell.”
That hit her every bit as painfully as a physical slap. Even more painful, was the realization that he was right. She would never have argued with Ethen the way she was arguing with him, and never over something as mundane as eating.
But Carlson wasn’t Ethen, and he didn’t understand about Pony. How could she possibly sit down to a supper like the one that would be waiting at their table when Pony was allowed nothing but water, and all because of her? It was a horrible Catch-22. The more she tried to be with Carlson, the more trouble she caused for Pony; and the more she tried to ease her guilt over that, the worse she made it for Carlson.
She was going to lose him. Unless she found a way to get past this kneejerk reaction that constantly sought to balance everything she did to her sub-mate—would Pony approve; would she get in more trouble; would she tell on her—then in all likelihood, Puppy knew, she was going to lose him tonight.
It was bound to happen eventually, but she wasn’t ready for it to happen right now.
“You’re right,” she said thickly, blinking back tears. “I’m sorry.”
Carlson shook his head. “You don’t have to be sorry, and this isn’t about who’s right. This is about figuring out what we want and how we’re going to proceed from where we are right now. Frankly, I’m fine with walking out of here as friends only. I’m still going to make you eat dinner. I was serious about that; you need the calories. Don’t get me wrong, I one hundred percent support a woman’s right to eat whatever, however, and whenever she wants. Right up until it starts to impact her health. Call me an asshole if you want, but at the point that you’re starving yourself for someone else’s very dubious benefit, then I don’t feel I’m at all out of line saying you’ve lost your perspective. As your friend, I’m not going to stand by and watch you get thinner. Or worse, die. As your Sir, I will happily shove sandwiches down your throat, with both hands if I have to. But what I won’t do and am not happy about is playing second fiddle to the same asshole who went to prison for the shit he’s still doing to you. Make a decision, honey. Are we going to be just friends, or are you going to put yourself in my hands and trust me to be your Sir?”
She had never felt so attacked or so cared for all at once, but he was right. It was a hard truth to swallow. In parts, it was an even harder truth for her to see. When she looked at her reflection again, she didn’t see someone so thin as to cause anyone concern. Her stomach was empty, but it was the kind of empty that didn’t really hurt anymore. She simply felt hollow. She also didn’t think she was in any danger of dying, that part was probably an exaggeration. But he was right about the rest of it. And when it all came down to the very end, it wasn’t ‘just a friend’ that she wanted.
“If…” She caught herself, already knowing she was asking too much. People like her didn’t often get second chances, and at this point, she already felt like she was on chance three or even four. “If there’s too much food at the table, Sir, may I take half my supper home?”
His hand was so huge compared to her. When he cupped her chin, his thumb and fingers held firm to opposite sides of her lower jaw as he forced her to meet his knowing eyes.
“Yes,” he said. “You may take half home to Pony. But I do expect you to eat the rest yourself. Is that understood?”
His hand, like his tone, was both stern and gentle. It was also accepting. Despite the mess she’d made of the evening, he wasn’t just granting her permission, he was accepting her unspoken request to try again.
“Thank you, Sir,” she said, melting just a little into the steadiness of his grip. No matter what he desired of her, from now until he got tired of her, she was determined. She would give it, without question or hesitation. She would be as good as she was able.
“All right, let’s finish this so we can eat.” Letting go of her chin, he unbuttoned the right cuff of his long black shirt sleeve. Turn after turn, he rolled it up, baring his muscular forearm all the way to the shoulder. “Sex is still off the table, right?”
Stunned by that roadmap of veins traveling the hard, thickness of his arm, she completely missed her cue. She’d felt the solidness of him both when he’d hugged her and certainly when he’d spanked her earlier. But, good lord, she’d had no idea he was this solid!
“Hey.”
She yanked her gaze back to his, the heat of her unwilling blush scalding her face for having been caught staring.
“I’m not asking,” he told her. “I’m telling you so you’ll know that boundary is still in effect and that I have every intention of honoring it. Sex is still off the table, all right?”
“Yes, Sir.” She nodded, not at all sure why he thought she needed the clarification now. Not until he bent, taking hold of the fastenings of her jeans.
Before her startled brain could process it, he’d unbuttoned and unzipped her, and in two steady jerks, peeled them off her hips and dropped them all the way down her legs. Gravity had them puddling around her ankles in a sea of worn denim. Before she could more than catch her breath, he hooked his fingers in her white underwear with its pastel colored butterflies and skinned those down as well. The cotton dropped on top of the denim, leaving her standing before him, nude from hips to ankles, and fighting to keep her shock from showing through the carefully schooled expression that she ought to have as a menagerie girl.
She kept her hands on her head, but only just barely. It was at once the most frightening, terrifying, oddly sexual in the most non-sexual way that any man had ever touched her. And God knew, there had been men beyond her desire to count since she’d signed Ethen’s slave contract. But this was the first time that she’d had a choice.
She stared at him, her eyes huge and her heart hammering against her ribs as he straightened again. Hands on his lean hips, he stared directly down into her eyes, as if completely uninterested in the fact that he’d just rendered her half-naked.
“The first time I spanked you tonight was for the disrespect you showed me at the table,” he told her. “Off the top of my head, I can’t think of any circumstance when you would not be allowed to voice your opinion if I tell you to do something, so long as you acknowledge that, as your Dom, the final say is mine. But that wasn’t what you did. Instead, you argued, and then you outright defied me. Right?”
A prickling tremble went right up the backs of her legs, centering instantly in the blushing heat of her long-neglected pussy. She couldn’t control it. She was too vulnerable. But when she tried to look away, he stopped her.
“No,” he said sharply. He pointed back at his own eyes. “Right here.”
She made herself obey, both legs shaking, her hands fists in her hair, unable to stop herself from pulling any more than she could stop herself from nervously picking at her nails until they bled.
“We’re back here now,” Carlson said, “not because you lied to me or because you were bratting, or even because you defied my wishes a second time over the same issue. You’re getting this spanking because I need you to know you’ve got a Dom who gives a damn, and it’s not that guy.” He stabbed a pointing finger off toward the bathroom wall in a direction she wasn’t at all sure led to Ethen’s current place of residence, but she knew what he meant. He pointed straight back at himself next. “It’s this guy. We need to connect, and considering where we are and what I have at my disposal, this is how I’m choosing to do it. Questions, comments or concerns?”
