4. Seven
FOUR
SEVEN
I can’t stop thinking about them .
It’s like I’ve opened up the floodgates on all sorts of memories, and my thoughts linger on the past instead of on the present.
There are so many other things I could’ve told Caleb, things that might’ve been more useful, and I berate myself for telling him something so dumb.
Why would a story about cake be important?
It had been such a stupid thing to get upset about anyway.
Except it had been one of the few times I’d been around both of my parents and my sister at the same time, and I’d thought it might be useful.
I think I was wrong.
My thoughts feel like sticky mud, the kind I’d slipped on during the first rain after my escape.
Rain had been so novel, though. I’d seen it through the windows often enough, but I’d never felt it on my skin. Maybe I should have told Caleb that story instead. He could have laughed about how terrified and exhilarated I’d felt all at once.
It would’ve been better than him thinking he was like her .
I hear the front door open, but I don’t have the energy to sit up. I burrow deeper into the couch, even as I hear familiar voices speaking in hushed tones. I should probably care what they’re saying, but everything feels so far away.
Footsteps approach, and a shadow crosses over me. I turn my head to see Caleb.
He hunches down so he’s eye level with me.
“Do you want to go to bed?” he asks softly.
He’s still wearing the glasses. Of course he is—he left with the glasses on, and he wouldn’t put contacts in this late at night.
I shake my head, but it feels like I’m moving through molasses as I struggle to sit up. He helps me, and I lean back heavily against the couch behind me. “No,” I whisper, searching his expression for any signs of distaste or pity.
“Okay.” He ruffles my hair and sits down next to me on the couch. “What do you want to do? Havoc and Vortex are still here. We could play a card game. Or Monopoly.”
“We are not playing Monopoly,” Havoc calls out. “It’s already past eleven.”
I force a smile. “No Monopoly,” I tell him, resting against his side. I inhale deeply, then let out the breath on the count of five like Georgie had told me to do one day. “Did you tell them?” I ask quietly.
“You asked me not to,” Caleb says. “But I wouldn’t have even if you hadn’t asked.”
“Because they’d treat me differently,” I say. “You know they would.”
“Maybe.” Caleb huffs softly. “But if we keep whispering like this, they’ll definitely get suspicious.”
I look at him, my eyes searching his. “You’re going to, aren’t you,” I say, already feeling defeated. “You’re going to be too afraid to be my Master now.”
“I’m not—” Caleb sighs. “I’m not afraid. I’m worried about you. I don’t want to hurt you in a bad way.”
“You wouldn’t,” I tell him, making a frustrated sound as I pull away. “Everyone’s so scared of hurting me all the time anyway, and now—” I cut myself off, but tears sting the corners of my eyes. “I shouldn’t have told you anything, even something that dumb.”
“Whoa, hold up, what’s going on?” Havoc asks, moving from the kitchen to the living room area. “Caleb, what did you do?”
I wish there were a few more walls and doors in this suite.
“Caleb?” Vortex asks, following Havoc. “Seven, are you okay?”
I shake my head. I want them all to go away.
“All right. What do you want to do, pet?” Caleb asks.
“Show me,” I whisper. “Show me you won’t treat me differently. Please .”
I see the small hesitation, but Caleb nods. “All right. What do you want? The cane? The clamps?”
“The whip,” I say immediately. “Give me… give me?—”
Thirty strokes .
He’s not going to give me thirty strokes.
It doesn’t matter that it’s what I deserve.
I look at him, willing him to agree.
Vortex clears his throat. “Seven…”
Panic and anger flare up within me. “You said you didn’t tell them!” I say, my voice going high.
“Hey. Hey, Seven, no,” Vortex says, taking a step closer. “He didn’t tell me anything. I’m only worried because you’ve had a long day. Maybe a whipping isn’t the best end to it.”
“It’s what I want,” I say, my cheeks flushing with heat. “Please, Master, I need it.”
Caleb purses his lips. “Fine. But Havoc and Vortex will be here to watch over you while I do it.”
“Okay,” I say.
Vortex extends a hand to help me up, and I take it. I get up, and even though I let Vortex hug me, my attention is on Caleb. He’s going to back out, I know it, because he sees me as too weak now.
Havoc looks between us, scowling. “Are you sure?—?”
“Yes,” Caleb snaps. “It’s all right. Seven wants it.” He strides to the bedroom and disappears inside.
Havoc glances at me. “Hey. If you want a bit of rough sex, we can do it without whips.”
“Why is it suddenly not okay for me to want to be whipped?” I ask, not recognizing the edge to my own voice. “You always tell me to say what I want, but now that I am, it’s not okay?”
“It’s not that, Seven,” Vortex says, but he sounds subdued. “We’re worried about you, that’s all.”
“Then don’t stay,” I hiss. I follow Caleb, pulling my shirt off and tossing it onto the floor.
Caleb is already holding the whip, stroking the thick leather.
He looks up at me, the light from the bedside lamp glinting off his glasses.
“Do you want to be bound, too?” Caleb asks. His tone is cold and unreadable.
“Why are you being this way?” I demand, agitation making me bolder, harsher, than I ordinarily would be. “You can just tell me you don’t want to.”
A tiny part of me protests that maybe he’s worried about being seen like her , but that makes it even worse.
“I could,” Caleb says. He lowers the whip to his side. “Strip, pet.” He takes a deep breath, and adds, “Your choices are up against the wall, or on the bed.”
Ordinarily, I’d go for the bed, but memories have a strong grasp on me. I want to have to keep myself up, to have to focus. I shed the rest of my clothes before going to the wall and pressing my chest against it, closing my eyes and waiting.
I can’t shake the feeling that Caleb is mad at me.
“How many strokes?” Caleb asks. “And if you say thirty, I am stopping.”
I want thirty. I want him to take me completely apart and put me back together again. But he already sounds so cold, so distant, that I do think of her.
“Master—” I begin, only to cut myself off. “Fifteen?” I venture. That has to be a good compromise, right?
Caleb nods. “All right.” He turns to the door, and I realize Vortex and Havoc are both awkwardly standing there.
Havoc waves at me. “Hey, Seven. You want us to watch?”
I don’t care , I want to say. But I don’t want to upset him and Vortex on top of upsetting Caleb. “If you want to,” I say, looking away again before I have to see their expressions. I turn back to face the wall, which is so familiar of a sensation that my breath catches.
It feels like it hasn’t been that long since all I had to stare at were the same four walls, and they’re closing in around me.
I hear Havoc and Vortex approach. Vortex murmurs something to Caleb, and Caleb sighs in response. My shoulders tense. What are they talking about? Is Caleb telling Vortex now ? Are they going to call it all off and leave me with my blood itching in my vessels, begging to be let out?
“Havoc is going to count for you,” Caleb says, and his voice is softer now. “And Vortex is going to put a stop to things if he thinks they’re getting out of hand.”
It’s not going to get out of hand. Caleb would never let it.
But I whisper a quiet assent anyway before relaxing against the wall as I await the first lash.
I feel the change in the air, hear the whistle of the whip, before it lands on my upper back. It’s so light that I don’t get the usual sting of pain with it, even.
Caleb is going easy on me. He never holds back like this, not even on the first stroke.
“I’m not fragile!” I yell, even though my outburst probably proves the opposite. “You don’t have to treat me like I am!”
Maybe the show of disrespect will get him to go harder. I don’t know what I’ll do if he insists on keeping it like this, light and next to nothing.
“I’m warming up,” Caleb says in an even tone. “If I’m your Master, then I choose how this goes. Havoc, keep count.”
“Uh, yeah. One,” Havoc says.
“Caleb,” Vortex says, and he sounds unsettled. “Maybe this isn’t a good idea. We could have some tea?—”
“No,” I say, turning around to look at him with desperate eyes. “Please, Daddy. I need this.”
More than they could ever know, ever understand, I need this.
“It’s fine, Vortex,” Caleb says. “You can be ready with the lotions and bandages for when we’re done. Seven, face against the wall.”
I turn back to look at the wall, pressing my forehead into it. It’s so hard to get my body to relax, but I force my muscles to go lax.
The next lash takes me by surprise, and it stings much harder than the first had. I gasp, relishing the sharp pain.
It still doesn’t really hurt though.
I want Caleb to cut my skin and make me bleed.
“Two,” Havoc says softly.
“Good job, beautiful boy,” Vortex adds.
I don’t want someone else to be responsible for counting for me. I don’t want to be told I’m doing a good job. I want this to happen like it always does.
Caleb cares, I know he does, but we don’t bother with any of these things when it’s only the two of us. He’s putting distance between us, and agitation burns in my veins like wildfire.
I bow my head, and the third blow lands about as hard as the second had.
“Three,” Havoc counts.
I don’t like that I’m so in the moment, so aware. I want to be losing myself, drifting, not caught up in this mockery of awareness that reminds me so much of before .
The next lash hits my ass cheek, and it’s a bit harder, but it’s still not enough. I open my mouth to count?—
“Four,” Havoc says.
“You took that so well,” Vortex says.
A scream is bubbling up within me, one that wants to wrench its way from my throat, and I finally turn to face them. “Stop!” I half-shout. “I don’t… I don’t want you here!”