Page 18 of Break Me

Fuck.My eyes dart back and forth between his hand, the stirrups, and the rest of the room as if I can find my answer somewhere there. But there’s nothing to help. Not even any paraphernalia laid out to hint at what’s to come. And I don’t think that would even matter. The choice is up to me.Can I live with myself if I give in? Can I stand the disappointment in his eyes if I don’t?

I don’t know why disappointing him seems so terrible. I don’t owe him anything. But somehow, it matters. More than I care to admit.

When it takes me too long to decide, he grabs my leg.

“No, no,” I blurt, pulling my leg from his hand. “Please, just…”

He levels me with an impatient look, and before he can grab my leg again, I quickly lift it and place it in his hand of my own accord.

“I’ll submit,” I say, and the next words fall over my lips quite automatically. “I’m sorry.”

His expression remains flat as he studies me. I hold my breath. Now it’s me waiting for him to decide. Forgive or not.

“I’m sorry,” I repeat in a whisper, casting my eyes down. “I’ll submit.”

He lifts my leg into the stirrup, and the cold metal has me shuddering. I close my eyes, trying to draw in on myself and shut out the humiliation.

Dax steps back. “Uh-uh, this is not how it works. If you want to submit, you’ll have to stay with me. Look me in the eye.”

I glance up, then down. He’s terribly intimidating with his bulging arms crossed over his chest, brows lowered in a grim expression, and jaw tight.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” I say, feeling torn and lost.

He rounds the table and grabs my jaw. “You looked me in the eye when you renounced your autonomy and declared yourself submissive.”

I shake my head. “That was only because you made me do it.”

“No, youfeltit.” He leans closer. “You went into subspace. Just by saying those words to me.”

“I-I—” My words break off. I don’t know how to explain. So I close my eyes and divulge the most pressing feeling inside me. “I don’t want to be a submissive.”

“Are you sure about that?”

I can’t lie to him. I heard it myself. There’s not much certainty in my voice. I don’t even feel sure. I don’t feel sure about anything anymore. In a matter of days, Dax has knocked my world upside down, broken me into pieces, and made me want something I have shunned my whole life.

Opening my eyes, I stare into his stark blue ones and admit the most self-shattering thing I’ve ever told another person. “No. I’m not sure.”

His features soften, and something like a smile crinkles the corners of his eyes. “Say the words: I am a precious little submissive who is making my trainer very proud.”

I breathe a long inhale and release the words on my exhale. “I am a precious little submissive who is making my trainer very proud.”

The words break something inside me. Something that can never be recovered. My self-image is torn to shreds and so is my will to fight this urge I’ve always denied. I do want to please. I don’t know how much and in what way—surely not like this—but it’s there, the urge to obey and serve a man. Always has been.

“Yes, you are.” He brushes his knuckles across my cheek and moves back to the stirrups. “Now look at me while I spread your legs apart, so I can access your pussy.”

Everything coils tight inside me. I knew he was going to touch me down there, but hearing the words makes it so much more real. I fist and open my hands as I fight the onset of panic. I want to draw in on myself—away from the man who is going to violate me—but I just can’t. I keep watching him as he fastens my legs in the stirrups, immobilizing my pelvis as he proceeds to draw straps across each side of my groin.

“Are you going to”—I swallow hard—“fuck me?”

His eyes light up as he fastens the last strap and straightens, watching his handiwork. “Nope. I’m gonna make sure no man will touch your pussy until I hand you over to your master.”

12

EMMA

Confusion and horror twine and twirl inside me as Dax fills the rolling table with various items I can’t bring myself to look at.

He starts by shaving my pussy, and I lie stiff and still, staring up at the ceiling until he’s done and I hear the crackle of latex gloves. Lifting my head, I watch as he disinfects my mound and labia, and my eyes must be blinking and moving wildly as the memory of getting the tattoo intrudes upon my mind.

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