Reveal Me (Empyrean Club)- The Atlas Collection Book 3

Part 4

When the door opens, I step out. My eyes look up at the large brownstone. This place is both familiar and nightmarish. Need drove me here but I lack the internal understanding of why.  

Ahead of me, Dominick strides to the front door. There is no need for further conversation. I know I am to follow and he knows I will. The surroundings penetrate my senses and I stand still for too long. At the top of the stairs, he looks down at me and raises an eyebrow. It is all I need to get moving. 

The heels of my shoes tap against the stairs as I rise toward the front door. He holds it open, I  enter and he steps in behind me. With unpracticed movements, I slip my shoes off beside the doorframe. Once the door closes behind me, I fall to my knees. Head up, eyes slightly cast down. Just enough to show deference and not too much that I would miss a silent command. 

"You dress as a Dominant. A place you've relinquished when you entered my household on your knees. A house uniform sits on the bench beside you." 

The words are a statement of fact. In this place, I bow to the Master of the house. That is the way, here. In many ways, he is still Master. Maybe a part of me still seeks it or maybe I've come to bury the skeletons. The thoughts run rampant through my head. 

"Do you think yourself above such a station?" His sharp tone cuts through my thoughts. 

"Nnn...oo, Sir." My normal confidence folds.

"Then move." 

With a lack of grace I stand. My fingers fumble over buttons, pins, zippers and snaps. It is humiliating not to perform the most mundane of tasks without elegance. Just weeks ago, I glided through the club to looks of awe.  The power no one questioned.  Now all I can think of is my fall to disgrace and the fear which put me in this place.

I pull up the grey pencil skirt and pull the grey polo shirt over my head. The uniform is utilitarian. Meant to strip a person down to the bare essentials and build them up again. In this moment I am nothing. In this place no one can depend on me because I am the lowest of a household. Temporarily, the weight of my world slips from my shoulders. 

"Much better. Ana will show you to your room. You will not speak. There is tea and food in your room. At eight o'clock, report to my study for confession."  

He turns on his heels and disappears down the hall.  

A young woman of twenty-two or so, appears before me. Her uniform is similar to mine, but she's earned colors. The significance of working her way through self-awareness and understanding under Dominick's tutelage. 

Without a word, I follow her up the staircase to the smallest room in the house. It is referred to as the closet, and as its name implies it was once a walk-in. Now, it houses a twin size horizontal Murphy bed, which currently looks like a couch. To the left is a meditation mat and to the right, a kneeling desk in the corner. On the far wall is a window and the only light source for the room. When it is dark outside, one must learn their way in the darkness and take advantage of the knowledge gained in the light. The symbolism is subtle but not lost. I've spent many a night of punishment or penance in this room. I can only imagine my fate after the confession. 

"There is tea on the desk. I've placed cucumber sandwiches and a small salad on the tray. When I leave, this room will be dark. I am sorry I can't leave you any light, but Master was specific in his instructions. He said you'd know exactly what to do." 

I turned and faced her, forcing a smile. My head nods.  

Using the fading light from the window and the ambient light from the open door way, I move to the desk. My legs fold under me in a kneel just as the hallway light fades. The evening light from the window cast dark shadows around the room.  

I pour a cup of tea and inhale the scent of Creamed Earl Grey, one of my favorites. Knowing he remembered lightens my mood slightly.  I grab a sandwich and turn to sit on the floor. Legs not use to kneeling, stretch in pain. My stomach growls as I bite into the bread. This is a simple meal of comfort for me. Dominick always rolled his eyes when he asked what a simple comforting meal looked like. He may never have understood, but it was obvious he'd paid attention. 

By the shadows on the wall, I estimated it was close to seven o'clock. I knew he would send word before my given time in the office. Sated by the food, I let my eyes drift close.