Under His command

Part 2

"Strip." The word is barely a whisper. So soft I strain to hear it. "Let each layer of clothing represent the baring of yourself. Open. Vulnerable. Safe."

My body refuses to move. For a long moment we both stand there and wait.

"I gave you an order, pet. You have two choices. Obey or tell me this is done and walk out the door."

Without thought, my fingers work the buttons on my suit jacket. Each move creates fear and freedom. When the last button unhooks, his hands lift the jacket from my frame like a valet of old. Next, his fingers find the small hook and releases the zipper from my skirt. It pools around my ankles for effect before I step out of it.

"Is there a reason I find underwear under these layers, against my standing order?"

I shrug, not trusting my voice.

The click of the knife causes me to startle. The blade sinks against my skin. Its razor-sharp edge cuts through the fabric without hesitation. Then he repeats it on the other side.

"Just imagine, my pet, if it cuts through fabric so easily how quickly it will mark your skin for me."

I hold my breath. My body demands oxygen and I demand it not to move. The back of the blade presses into my hip as it folds back into itself. The click signals release. My lungs blow out the built up air from my lungs along with the tension in the muscles of my body. Darkness creeps back from the edge of my vision.

"It is just beginning," his says against my temple. His voice and movements do not rush. It is as if he has all the time in the world to torment me.

His fingers release the hooks to the bra and shove it off my shoulders. Both hands wrap around and grasp my freed breasts. The tips of his fingers pinch my nipples and haul my body against his taunt chest. I gasp in surprise and pain. My balance lost on my heels as I stumble back.

"For six weeks you have pushed me away. You have openly disobeyed. Refused to communicate or accept the help. To everyone around you, you have been distant. Choosing to curl up into yourself rather than open. Your character has become a mask of ugliness, hiding the grace and poise I taught and demand of you. This is not the slave I want. My only option is to destroy what you've become and give us the opportunity to start over or walk away."

Pain radiates from my nipples. His fingers refuse to release their grip.

"What say you slave?" The words hiss in my ear.

I nod. Everything in me wants to scream and rail against him but something deeper demands me to follow. The part I most often force into the darkness.

"Answer me with words." His fingers tighten, punctuating each syllable.

"As you wish. As you lead, I will follow." I pant. Each work forced through my teeth.

"Anywhere?"

"Anywhere." My voice is resigned. I need this, deep down I know it. I crave it. His harshness. I desire to suffer for him. I want to go into the darkness because I trust him to bring us both out alive

His fingers pull me forward by my nipples. The sudden release propels me forward causing me to stumble and fall to the floor. I brace on my hands. Knees hit the cool tile, hard enough to notice but not to damage.

"You have become chaos. In you I will rebuild order. No matter how many times I have to tear you down and build you up. Rip away the layers of facades until I find the slave I know you to be inside. The one who surrenders completely. Lives to serve. Who knows she is loved and respected."

"Yes please." The words tumble out of my mouth before I can think to hold them back.

"You need this reset, pet. My punishments. To know my word is my bond and that I am in control. Keeping you in line. Pushing you to grow and surrender. The path back is not an easy one."

My forehead touches the floor.

"A place where you let go of the world. Set aside the burdens of reality, for a little while, and feel safe within my control. Is this what you want, pet?"

I inhale. My body shakes. The war for the strong independent woman and the surrendered slave takes place outside of the physical view but it is no less real. Only one can control or be controlled. But only one will bring me peace.

"Giving up control to another person is never easy. You are strong enough to face the pain and the pleasure. To be vulnerable and open."

It takes everything I am not to rail against his words, no matter how accurate. Slaves are weak creatures. Surrendering their will and control because they are incapable of wielding it themselves. These are the words of the outside world. No matter what I feel deep in me, I will not be weak. I will not fail.

"I challenge you to face yourself."

I growl at his words. He knows there's never been a challenge between us I would not accept. I do not do defeat.