Under His command

Part 11

I am bound across the bench. There is no need to pull on the straps. The ones on my wrist press into the thin skin, hovering between an ache and a pain. My ankles hold my legs in place. All I can see is the floor. My ass and pussy are exposed to his every touch and observation.

"Are you here of your own free will pet?"

Part of me wants to snark but I control it. "I am."

"For six weeks your action created a rift between us. My inactions allowed it to stay. I told you each week would require payment. You have paid for two of those weeks. Now you will pay for the third. Everything in life must find balance. Confess and repent."

He walked around and sat in front of me. The starched blue dress shirt hung open at the collar. Navy blue suit pants creased down his leg. The entire outfit makes me wet and afraid. The look on his face is deadly serious. This time I have gone too far. Why could I not just let go? Why is it so hard to trust? What does he want me to say? What will he do when I find the words?

"You're thinking too much pet." His words startle me. The tone of his voice is matter of fact as if he'd just stated an obvious problem.

"I am afraid."

"I know. There is much to fear. I am right here, walking beside you."

"What do you want me to say?"

"I don't want you to say anything. You need to say everything."

My head drops forward. Silence fills the void. I stare at his shoe. The finish marred with my actions, much like the situation I find myself now. I berate myself. The faults pile upon one another until my shoulders sag.

"Confess them. Holding them in brought us here. Releasing them will set you free."

His words unsettle me as does his patience. In front of me he moves little. There seems to be no rush in the situation, nor does the delay impact it.

"How do I start?" I whisper.

"Have you never confessed?"

"No."

"There's never been a situation where you've bared your soul and voiced the things you hold?"

I shake my head. "Only when I have needed to sincerely apologize for a wrong doing which hurt another person."

"Do you believe this to be the case here?"

The question rolled around my mind. It wasn't the large cut of a normal apology here rather it was the thousand small cuts I'd inflicted in my selfish attempt to appear strong and independent. The realization slams into me with the force of a tidal wave.

"I am sorry." I state.

"I accept your apology. Now I am your confessor, confess the reasons you feel you need to use those words to me."

I pull in a deep breath and try to prepare myself but thoughts will not form. Swirls of the recent weeks crowd each other. My mouth opens and the words spill forth.

"The past few weeks have been hard. There are so many things to deal with when a friend's life hangs in the balance. Family eats at family. My personal crisis of identity and needs feel insignificant in comparison. Past relationships have taught me to hold everything in and push through the walls. It is weakness to ask for help. To surrender to another person makes me less. I fight for every step."

A loud sigh break into my words.

"Do not justify your actions. Confess and take responsibility for self. It does not change me to wait. However, those who do not repent and accept their fate openly and honestly only add to the penance which must be paid in the creation of an unreasonable delay. There is a price to every action. I bear mine, just as you do. We are now here to bear yours." The dangerous tone in his voice warns me of my misstep.

"I confess I am not worthy. I confess I am less than what I should have been in these situations."

"Stop." He commands. "Do you believe yourself unworthy of my attention? Think carefully before you answer the question."