Dangerous black ties

Acknowledging

The early morning light shines through the window.
I already started to feel stressed out with what was supposed to happen today.

Dexter's body heat helped ease the anxiety in my stomach.

I feel his fingers trace gently on my back.

"Good morning, beautiful," he murmured, his voice thick from waking up. He looks down at me, a soft smile curled up on his lips.

I felt the familiar stress creeping back in at the thought of getting my cast. I hated it the thought my problems would just be more notable now.

" I—" I started, but the words became caught in my throat. The thought of getting a cast felt like acknowledging what I'd been through. I'd broken my arm before but never had to wear a cast. It was like putting a label on my pain and what I had been through.

He must have sensed my hesitation boiling inside me because he instantly cut me off. "I know you're feeling strange about it," he said softly as he tilted my chin up to meet his eyes. "But it's for your health, and we need to take care of you."

"I just feel like it means... acknowledging everything," I admit, the weight of my past pressing down. "It's just hard for me to accept help, especially when it feels like a reminder of everything that has happened."

His expression shifted to soft and understanding. "Baby, listen, it's going to be okay; you deserve to be cared for. Your arm is broken, so that's why you need the cast. We all want you to heal both physically and mentally. So we gotta take care of you. It will be okay, I promise you."

I nodded even though I still felt uneasy. He reached out slowly and brushed a stray strand of hair behind my ear. "You're so strong, but you don't have to carry everything alone anymore; we won't let you."


Just then, I heard a soft knock on the door, and Jeremy peeked in, a gentle smile on his face. "How's it going in here?"

Dexter looked at me, then back at Jeremy. "I have to head to work, but keep an eye on her today?" He asked as he got dressed.

"Of course," Jeremy replied, stepping into the room. "I'll take good care of her."

Before leaving, Dexter turned to me one last time. "Remember, be a good girl for Jeremy today."

"Sir, sir," I whispered to him, looking into his gray eyes.

He leaned down, placing a gentle kiss on my forehead.

As soon as he was gone.

Jeremy sat beside me. "I can see the emotions in your eyes. Everything will be okay. I know it's hard, but we're here to help make sure you get better; that's our job as your doms."

I took a deep breath, feeling the weight of the day ahead. "I'm just not used to this me needing help or help helping me."

Jeremy nodded; his expression softened even more. "That's okay. Remember, sometimes allowing help is a strength, not a weakness. So you better get used to it. No matter what, you're safe with us."

His words comforted me, and though I still felt troubled about the cast, I knew I wasn't alone. With Jeremy here, I could face the day one step at a time.

"Let's get you sorted for today," he said, offering a warm smile that made me feel a little braver.

"Alright," I replied, feeling more ready to face what was coming. I rub my eyes, raising.

He walked over to my bags.

"Let's get you dressed," he said, pulling out a cozy sweater and leggings and a bra. "These should be comfortable for you."

"Thanks," I said, taking the clothes. He continues to stand there as I start to get out of my pajamas.

Struggling now and then.

I finally get to my bra.

"Don't worry; I'll help you," he tells me, noticing my struggle. He clasped my bra before gently kissing my shoulder. He carefully helped me into the sweater, mindful of my injured arm. "There you go," he said, his eyes encouraging.

Next, he kneeled to help me with the leggings. "You look great," he said, glancing up at me.

"Thanks," I replied with a blush.

He smirks at me getting up. His hand reaches out, and he brushes stray hair from my face and checks my braid. "How about we keep it simple today? Just a quick style to keep it out of your way."

I nodded, "Okay." He guided me to sit down. He quickly and carefully braided my hair. "All set," he said, stepping back with a satisfied smile.

"Thank you," I said, feeling grateful.

"Of course. Now, let's get you some food in your tummy," he said, gently taking my hand and leading me toward the kitchen.

As we walked into the kitchen, I hesitated, looking at the table. "I'm not hungry," I admitted, glancing at the food.

"Baby, you need to eat," Jeremy said gently, concern etched on his face. "It's important for your strength. It is how your body heals."

I bit my lip, feeling a mix of emotions. "I just... I don't feel like it."

He gently moved my gaze from the floor to meet his eyes. "I get that. But trust me, a little something in your stomach will help. How about just a few bites? You can do that for me, can't you? You're just anxious.

I nodded reluctantly, knowing he was right. "Okay, just a few bites."

"Good girl," he replied with a soft smile, softly kissing my forehead. "Let's make sure you're ready for the day."

He poured a small portion of scrambled eggs onto a plate and handed it to me. "Here you go, baby."

"Thank you," I say, taking a bite of food.

After I get done eating, he says. "Alright, let's go, princess," he says, leading me out of Edison's house to his car.

He opens the door for me, and I slip in, reaching for the seatbelt before his hand is on mine, buckling me in place.

I could smell his cologne. It was intoxicating.

"Perfect," he says before kissing my cheek and closing the door softly before getting in his side.

As he drives his large hand into my thigh. Warming the area below.

I look at his hand, remembering exactly where they have been, and it sends an embarrassing sensation through me. As heat felt like it was starting to pool in between my legs.

He glances over at me and chuckles. "You look flustered," he comments.

I swallow my spit and gentle tee and take his hand off my thigh. "You just are making it hard to concentrate," I say

I was unable to remove his hand as he slightly tightened his hold on my leg.

He gave me a playful smirk, as though he was enjoying how easily he could make me squirm. "Is that so?" His voice was low, dripping with amusement. He slid his hand just an inch higher, his touch firm but teasing. "Then maybe I should keep my hand right here. Hmm, see how well you can focus now."

My breath stilled, and my body was beginning to betray me as I felt a shiver run through me. "You're impossible," I mumbled, trying to ignore the way my heartbeat increased under his touch.

He let out a soft laugh, clearly pleased with himself. "But you love it," he teased, his hand stayed in place in a warm and possessive manner as he continued to drive with ease.

I stared out the window, trying to calm my thoughts, but it was pointless. My body was hyperaware of him. His touch, his presence, the way he was completely in control.

"Relax, baby," he said after a moment. His voice is coming out softer now, though still tinged with amusement. "We're almost there."

As the car slowed to a stop, he finally removed his hand from my thigh, and I could breathe a little easier. "Come on, princess," he said, stepping out and coming around to open my door.

Helping me out, he led me to a small building that had medical supplies.

He gently picks me up and sets me on the examination table.

"What is this place?" I ask him, confused, looking around at everything.

He gulps his spit nervously. "Well, I am a doctor. This was just my private practice. Unfortunately, it didn't get much business. He says with a small laugh.

"Oh okay," I say, looking around at the spotless room.

He was preparing for the procedure. I picked at my nails.

"Hey, baby," he said softly, noticing my self-mutilation. "Let's keep those hands busy. How about you tell me what you're feeling that's making you anxious?"

"I don't know. I just feel weird about getting a cast," I admitted to him as I glanced down at the ground. "It feels like I am admitting everything that happened with my dad."

He tilted my chin up yet again to meet his gaze. His expression shows he understood. "I get it. But remember, this cast is just a tool to help you heal. It doesn't define you or your past."

I nod, not finding the words to say.

He turns his attention back to getting everything ready.

I took a few deep breaths, but my fingers found their way to my mouth again, biting at my nails.

"Meredith," he said gently but firmly, "let's try not to do that. You need to stay calm."

"Sorry," I mumbled, pulling my hand away. "I'm just anxious."

"I know. How about we focus on something else?" He handed me a stress ball. "Squeeze this if you need to."

I nodded. I lightly squeezed the ball as he continued to prepare the supplies for the cast. "You're going to be okay, I promise. Just let me take care of you."

"Okay," I whispered.

"Be a good girl for me today," he added, his tone softening. "We'll get through this together."

As Jeremy started to wrap the materials around my arm.

"Just breathe, Meredith. You're doing great," he said, glancing up with a smile.

"Thanks," I replied, trying to focus on his voice rather than my anxiety.

"All done," he said, stepping back to admire his work. "What do you think?"

"It's... not as bad as I thought," I admitted, flexing my fingers gently.

"Good. Now, remember, this is just temporary," he reminded me, brushing stray hair behind my ear. "You're strong, and you'll get through this."

"Thank you," I said, feeling a little lighter.

"Now, how about we plan our baking session for later?" he asked with playful eyes.

"I'd like that."

"Great. Let's try not to pick at your nails, okay? It'll only make you more anxious."

I nodded, not realizing how often I resorted to that habit. "I'll do my best."

"Good girl," he said, and I felt a warmth in my chest at his praise.


In the car ride home
"Can I ask you something?" I ask him as I look at my nails.

"Sure, baby," he says, his hand resting on my thigh.

"I never got to ask my mom and, well, my dad... i sigh well, you know..." I nervously bite my lip. "Will it... I sigh, and will it hurt? The first time... i mean?"

He was silent for a brief moment.
"It probably will. I'm not going to lie to you because you still have your hymen. We will make sure you are as ready as possible, and whoever it is will be gentle and go slow. We will take care of you whenever you decide you want to do that."

"Okay," I say as his hand continues to tease my inner thigh.

Once we got home, I sank into the couch and let out a long sigh of relief. The initial tension from the whole event was finally easing.

"Well, that wasn't so bad, was it?" he asked me with a teasing smile.

I shrugged with a small smile. "I guess not. But I'm still stuck with this thing for weeks."

He chuckled as he brushed a strand of hair from my face. "That just means you have to take it easy for a bit. Which wouldn't be the end of the world. How about we bake something together? Like I suggested last night?"

"Baking sounds great! What should we make?" I ask him excited.

"How about cookies?" he suggested with a contained chuckle at my excitement, getting up to head to the kitchen. "You can pick the recipe."

I followed him, "Chocolate chip, for sure." I say happy to be doing something.

He shook his head in amusement.

As we gathered the ingredients, I couldn't help but notice how attentive he was, carefully ensuring I didn't strain my arm while reaching for items.

Once we had everything, we started mixing the ingredients. He took charge of the heavy lifting, while I stirred the batter with my good hand.

"See? Not so hard," he said, grinning as he watched me concentrate.

"Just wait until we have to scoop the dough onto the baking sheet," I replied, glancing up at him. "That'll be tricky."

"I'll help you," he promised. "Just focus on having fun."

As we scooped the dough, the feelings from earlier were completely gone.

When we placed the cookies in the oven, I leaned against the counter. "Thanks for this," I said. "It's nice to just relax and do something normal."

He paused, looking at me with warmth in his eyes. "Anytime. We all want you to feel comfortable and cared for, especially while you're healing."

I smiled. "You are the best, you know."

Before I could say more, the timer went off, and we headed to the oven. The smell of freshly baked cookies filled the air.

"Perfect timing!" he explains, pulling the tray out. He handed me a warm cookie, watching as I took a bite.

"Delicious!" I say with a smile.

"Just like you," he teased, leaning closer.

I feel my cheeks warm up as a blush creeps on my face.

"Is that so?" I ask as I try to ignore the heat instantly pooling in between my legs.

"You're a taster." He says he chewed a bite before kissing my jaw. He chuckles, "There's that face again. Hot and bothered, huh? Aren't you supposed to say something about that?"