Craving: A Kylo Ren Tale

Twenty-Eight

My morning is spent on emails and correspondence, and my afternoon is filled with more strolling through the city.

I've only been here a short time, but I can understand why some call this the happiest city in the world. After coming straight from New York, the differences are astounding.

The sky isn't littered with skyscrapers, the architecture is a mix of seventeenth through twenty-first century designs. The locals all seem quite charming as they bike about the city, and there's a comforting sense of community. The mix of classic and modern is so wonderful and I adore every turn of a corner.

I wander far from the hotel, letting myself get lost for a time. After watching the boats in the harbor from a cafe, I find myself walking along a path on the waterfront. And as my eyes are skimming the shore, I see her.

A bronze statue of a mermaid, perched upon a rock.

She's small, unassuming, and if you aren't looking close enough you might miss her. A quick google search on my phone tells me that she's the Little Mermaid, in honor of Hans Christian Andersen.

As I stare at her, while the sun shines down through crisp winter air, I become entranced.

My mind can't stop thinking of the poem I wrote not that long ago. Can't stop thinking that I'm not the siren... I'm the sailor being dragged down into the darkness.

I didn't notice it as it was happening, but looking back I realize that Kylo's grip around me has slowly gotten tighter and tighter. My need for pleasing him has only gotten stronger, my desire to submit has increased exponentially.

The cold winter wind blows across my face as my mind churns. I snuggle into my scarf and coat, expensive fabrics that I "earned".

I reminisce on the words of warning from Rose- don't let him warp your perspective.

But I don't think things have gone that far yet. I feel good about where I am with Kylo right now, and the possibility of real intimacy with him is tempting. There are flashes of it during the aftercare, small tastes that leave me craving more.

I'm not done playing his games yet.

I shake off the thoughts in my head, and focus on the events ahead of me. During a cab ride back to the hotel, excited energy flutters around my stomach as I think of Kylo showing me off to friends.

I take my time getting ready- a long soak in the bath with soft oils and perfumes, shaving until everything is silky smooth, makeup and hair in classic styles. After I dress in the appropriate outfit, I check myself in the full length mirror.

The black dress. No stockings. The silver heels. Red lipstick. Just as he requested.

Well, Kylo Ren doesn't request. He controls. He orders. Instructs. Directs. Commands.

As I'm gazing at my reflection, pleased with my appearance, I can't help but notice the faint purple bruises around my wrists. I should feel ashamed, maybe embarrassed. But instead I feel pride, showing off the marks from my Master.

Kylo has been away all day, meeting with collectors and buyers. While I'm doing the final touch ups of my makeup, I hear him enter the suite and start his shower.

I have time to kill, so I throw on some layers and step out on the balcony for a smoke.

When I go back inside and shed my coat, the shower is no longer running but he still isn't ready. So I keep myself busy by pouring a glass of wine in the kitchen, click clacking my heels as I walk.

Half a glass of red later, and he finally appears. Looking mouthwatering.

He's in all black, of course, and this time he's donned a matte black tie to go with the shirt and dress pants. I watch him scan up and down my body, checking for all of the details he commanded.