Adjustment of Attitude

Part 5

Darkness begins to descend across the room. Lights turned on with the change but I barely notice. I've torn through a large pile of work but like all work it is an endless wheel of more work. It wouldn't matter if I am here for another six hours, it would still be here taunting me.

"It's time Tess." I hear Garrett's commanding voice cut through my concentration.

I try to ignore him. Maybe if I just focus on work, everything will return to normal. There would be no reason to face the reset rite. We all took part in its development. There was no doubt in anyone's mind exactly what it ismeant to do. Nothing in me wants to face.

"Tess." The word sounds like a threat. I set my jaw and only lift my eyes with a glare.

"This can go easy or hard. Either way it will happen."

I roll my eyes, sigh and go back to typing.

"Tess, please." Evan's voice prods softly. "We're only doing this for your own good."

They are both right. Stubbornness consumes me. No matter how many times I say it's not true or how deeply I believe it, years of being surrounded by corporate competitive men means this situation feels like submitting is a weakness. I know it is not true but right now it changes nothing.

"I thought you knew better than this, Tess. I know you're scared." Garrett walks across the room. Evan follows in a heel position.

Internally everything screams to follow but how can one follow into submission without a fight? How can you step into a space, only moments before, would cost you political collateral? Why can't I reach out and let them take me to the quiet place I used to know from my knees? There is a different quiet place as a dominant. One I'm more familiar with these days. When a submissive lays their head on my knee or anticipates my next need before I realize it.

It is different though, like the need to eat and drink. Both are important, neither is anymore important than the other but you can survive longer. Over time, I've learnt to quench my quiet place from a dominant position because so few understood the push/pull needs of a switch. It is like telling me I could either eat or drink but I wasn't entitled to both because it made others uncomfortable. It is easier to starve than to need one's thirst quenched. Then when an opportunity is offered willingly, how do you not bite the hand which wishes to feed you, when you are starving? The thoughts assaults my mind.

Garrett stand in front of me. I gaze up into his eyes, both pleading for him to do it and daring him to touch me.

His left hand circled my left wrist with a tender touch. His right hand lay on my neck. He kisses me lightly on the cheek. The stubble on his face graze my ear.

"It didn't have to be this way but you've never taken the easy path." He whispers.

My head bows forward as I processed his words. A retort forms on my lips a second too late. The movement of my head is all he needs to take me with a snap down. Garrett drops his weight with my head. The move tosses me to my knees hard enough to feel it but not hard enough to damage.

My next view is the hardwood floor below my desk. Evan stands behind me, pulls my wrist against my lower back and ties them with a strand of rough hemp. Garrett moves to a standing postion and places his boot firmly on my neck. With a practiced motion, Evan secures my ankles together then binds everything until I am immobile. My knees press against my chest . My breath comes ragged pants.

"When you entered this household, you agreed, as did we, to all the practices, protocols, rites, rituals and rules of the house. For many reasons we've all chosen to be lax in following our own structure. This lack of focus led you astray the most. Because we love, and are committed to bring us all back to where are our best selves, we offer you one last choice- do you choose to proceed?"

Any sane person who knew the perils ahead would scream no, but that choice resulted in an immediate change of the household. It meant everything we held dear would be in jeopardy. The word "no" signaled the fact I did not trust them with my life, nor felt their actions were done out of love. Nothing in me could form the word. Fear wars against this knowledge. Only one of those two would win, and fear pulls ahead in the battle.

"I am not in the habit of asking questions twice." The cane whistles through the air. It landed in the arches of my feet. I scream when the pain ignites across the thin line.

"Do you choose to proceed?"

"Yes," I mutter into the floor.

The cane lands again. Tears spring to my eyes.

"You are the lowest member of this household. You will show respect through your words, actions and talents."

Once again it sails through the air and lands with a resounding thwack.

"Do .You. Choose. To. Proceed?" Garrett asks a third time. His harsh tone warns that I am the only focus of his attention and the cause of his loss of patience.

"Yes, Sir." I cry out. Pain radiates through my feet. The rope abrade my skin as my body tenses and pulles against it. Knotted muscles bunch and threaten to cramp.

Garrett's boot lifts from my neck. I try to breathe in the relief but it is short lived. In my shoulder blades, a thumb digs into the muscles. Deep pain rushes to the pressure point and black spots rush before my eyes as the muscles refuse to give in the same way I'd done only moments before.

"Boy, give her eight more with the cane across her feet. If I think you are being lenient, then she will get an additional eight and you will be properly punished. Since she chose not kneel willingly, she will only be able to stand painfully."

"Sir, yes Sir." Evan's voice rises behind me. There is no hesitation in his duty.

The cane whistles through the air and scorching pain crosses each foot. Stroke after stroke brings unbearable pain, while searing agony runs through each shoulder blades as two thumbs dug in. I pull against the ropes in an attempt to escape the onslaught. Each stroke lands with precision and does not let up in its power. Tears stream down my face. I scream in pain, fear and humiliation. Everything becomes a blur.

As suddenly as it began it all stops. The room is silent except for my ragged breathes and sobs.

Hands remove the ropes, letting each one pull and scrape against the skin. No care is taken to make it comfortable or gentle. Thumbs continue to prod the muscles in my back. Each push forces them to give, only to feel them return to their knotted state. I don't dare move. My knees ache from their bent position. Both legs threaten to cramp. Pain in my feet radiates into a fiery burn.

The thumbs stop their motion and Garrett stands beside me.

"Maybe there's hope for her after all." The words are aimed at Evan, like I am only an object to be discussed. "Get her cleaned up with a ritual bath. When you are done, present her to me and you can collect your well deserved reward. You did well boy."

Garrett's words send a shiver down my spine.

"Thank you Sir." Evan's voice holds a proud edge.

My mind swirls, my body achs, and I know only one thing, I dare not move until the next command.