Chapter Nine
SHAY
The dining room is much quieter this morning.
Patients keep trickling in and out while I push around some oatmeal in the bowl in front of me.
One of the kitchen staff keeps watching me, so I take a big spoonful and shove it in my mouth, forcing my jaw to chew and swallow.
It’s not that it tastes bad—I just have no appetite again.
When Rayne touched me yesterday, my body reacted in a way I had no control over.
Instead of savoring his warm touch, my body tensed and my stomach soured.
It wasn’t him. It was me. Guilt took over because I haven’t been near another man in that way since I met Arin.
I have to keep telling myself I don’t belong to him anymore.
Yesterday was calm and too quiet—making me feel tense, like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Most days with Arin could be uneventful—then something would happen, and things could get scary.
Punishments varied from physical: spanking, being restrained for hours, kneeling on a hard surface, and sex rough enough to leave lasting marks. Or, he would grow cold and ignore me for days, speak harshly, demean and embarrass me.
The only ‘punishments’ I didn’t mind were the spankings if I was a bad girl and did not follow the rules.
Those punishments would eventually turn into a fun sex session.
It makes me wonder what it would take for Rayne to punish me.
I try to imagine what it would feel like to have him bend me over his knee and spank me.
Would he do it in anger, or to teach me a lesson? My lower stomach gets tight thinking about him touching me, holding me, and kissing me. I have his attention, but I also want his affection. He is too reserved and isn’t like any other dominant I’ve ever met.
When I was new to the lifestyle, Arin would bring me to parties hosted by other Doms with their submissives. Every couple was different, and I was to observe the different dynamics around me; mostly to help immerse me into the lifestyle.
Growing up, I was always quiet, observant, and submissive, but being with Arin was different. He wanted me to learn how to live without intention or freedom. To be completely reliant on him—for everything. From what I wore, how I ate, and what I did all day. Everything was for him.
Now that he’s gone, I have to learn how to make my own decisions, and that is terrifying to me.
The thought of being alone in an apartment of my own after I leave here makes my stomach turn.
What am I going to do with my life now? Should I seek another arrangement?
I guess that’s all I’m really good for, anyway.
Rayne set up our therapy room just as I asked him to.
He even added a few thoughtful touches himself: all the books, plants to take care of, and a drink station where I can make myself tea whenever I want.
Especially tea. I love tea. Having tea while quietly sitting in Arin’s office was one of my favorite things to do.
I have to admit I’m becoming restless without the slightest idea of what I should be doing.
I thought therapy would entail more direction, talking, and training, but Rayne hasn’t done much aside from giving me simple rules to abide by.
At this rate, I’ll have read all the books on the bookshelf in the next 5 weeks.
It makes me wonder what the other patients here are doing for their therapy.
Do their Doms give them daily tasks, more rules, punishments for being bad?
I could see Rayne’s surprise yesterday when I brought him breakfast. Arin wouldn’t even look in my direction when I would do things like that. It was only expected of me.
I wanted Rayne to be happy that I did something nice for him. I want to show him that I care; isn’t it my job to take care of him? Instead of being praised in the way I’m craving, he simply told me my actions weren’t necessary. My heart sank a bit when he said that.
I look at the clock and notice it’s almost 9:00.
Almost time to go to my therapy room and do fuck all today.
Instead of heading upstairs, I clear my tray and simply walk out the front door.
The sun shining above me brings a smile to my face.
It’s so refreshing and warm this morning, so instead of being cooped up inside, I decided to take a walk around the property.
Rayne can be upset if he wants—I don’t care. If he’s a real Dom, he’ll know what to do to little girls that break the rules.
I found a cozy spot off the main walking trail and lay down, letting the sun warm my face and exposed arms. Instead of wearing a dress as usual, I decided on some jeans and a tank top.
It’s still a bit chilly in the mornings, but I don’t care.
My arms and face could use some color from the sun; it’s been entirely too long since I’ve been able to do this.
I should have brought my notebook, but then I remembered Rayne kept it in his desk yesterday. Maybe he’ll let me write in it today when I get back. Or, maybe as part of my punishment for not going to the room this morning, he’ll not let me write today.
Whatever, it’s not like I’m not used to doing absolutely nothing but wait around all day. So jokes on him. I close my eyes and relax for a bit before I hear footsteps approaching on the trail. I don’t open my eyes, thinking it’s someone from the facility taking a walk this beautiful morning.
To my surprise, the footsteps get closer, so I open my eyes. The sun is shining bright, so I squint, but then a familiar face comes into view. Instead of the eerily calm and friendly face he usually has, he looks upset. His brow is furrowed, and his arms are crossed over his chest.
“I’ve been looking everywhere for you this morning. It’s now nearly 11:00. If you wanted to go for a walk, all you had to do was ask, Shay.” He growls, never breaking eye contact.
I don’t move a muscle and close my eyes again, not letting him distract me from this relaxing spot. He doesn’t get to dictate what I do if he’s not willing to enforce his own rules.
“Get up. You’ve spent plenty of time out here already. We have work to do today. Like I said, anytime you want to come out here, all you have to do is ask.”
“Why bother asking? I thought I was supposed to be more independent. Take charge of what I want to do,” I challenged his request for the first time.
“You are, but first you need to adhere to my rules. They’re put in place to help you adjust to your new life.” His voice is calm again. Why isn't he angry that I'm not following his instructions?
I sigh in annoyance and sit up. I have to crane my neck all the way up to meet his gaze. My heart starts to race along with my mind.
“I’m tired of not knowing what is on your mind.
Of—of not knowing what is expected of me other than your silly simple rules!
At least with Arin he was clear about what he wanted from me!
You just sit there and do nothing! You’re not even a real Dom…
” I seethe. The anger that has been building up has finally erupted.
I watch his jaw clench for a moment before he speaks calmly, “No. You’re wrong. I’m exactly the kind of dominant you need. I expect you in our therapy room this afternoon,” and he walks off.
His stride as he walks away is confident. My words didn’t upset or bring him down like I wanted them to. Instead, he de-escalated the situation and walked off. He must not have wanted to cause a scene and punish me in public. Yeah, that must have been it.
I take one last look at the sun and stand up, brushing stray grass blades off the back of my jeans. I’ll go to our room after lunch, and face my punishment.
I lightly knock on the door and open it when Rayne does not answer. The room is silent, still. I didn’t see him downstairs for lunch, so I had assumed he would be here waiting for me. Instead, I walk over to his desk and see a note:
My hands shake as I read the note. It was cold, demanding, and distant, just like with Arin. I take a deep breath and swallow deeply before folding the note and leaving it on his desk. My journal is sitting on the other end, so I take it with me before I leave the room.
This will be my first group session, and I’m nervous. What is it going to be on? I’ve caught some conversations of other patients here during meals, and it seems like everyone is here for different reasons. They’re not all baby girls like me.
What if I don’t attend? I shake my head; I can’t keep trying to break rules just to get a rise out of Rayne.
I’m here to get better, and I only have five more weeks.
I better make the best of it while I’m here.
Once I leave, I won’t have Rayne or anyone else from this facility, for that matter, to help me navigate through life alone.
I head down to the second floor and walk into the conference room.
It’s set up with folding chairs lined up in rows, and some of them are already occupied with familiar faces.
I shuffle in and look around; I don’t see Rayne here.
Will he be attending too? I take a seat towards the back and am relieved when no one sits in my row.
After a handful of minutes, a beautiful tall redhead walks in and heads towards the front of the room. She’s dressed in casual business attire, her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and she has a friendly demeanor. I wonder if she’s one of the therapists here.
People shift in their seats, whisper to one another, and I clasp my hands together tightly.
My stomach is turning, and I’m anxious. It feels warm in this room; it must be all the people in here making it hot.
I need to relax and just get through this.
After this is over, I will go to my room and decompress.
Rayne will understand.
“Good afternoon everyone! My name is Leonora, and I was once, just like all of you, a patient here at the Meridian Institute. I want to thank you all for being here today. I hope that my experience and success with the program can help you on your journey.”
I sit taller in my chair; I’m intrigued. She was a former patient, and she looks incredible. She exudes confidence, grace, and success. My heart flutters with hope that she can give me the confidence I need to make this work.
“I worked with Mr. Meridian for 12 weeks for my therapy. I came from an unstable background: abuse growing up, drugs, and right before I came, I was nearly killed by someone I once called my Dom. I know everyone here has different backgrounds and reasons for being here, but the work the institute does is remarkable. This is a unique place that understands our needs, and uses BDSM related therapies to help people.”
My eyes are glued to Leonora as she walks back and forth speaking to the group. Movement to my left catches my eye.
Rayne walks in and is standing off to the side of the room; he’s watching Leonora too. I wonder if he knew her when she was a patient. She said she worked with Mr. Meridian, whom I haven’t met yet. It makes me wonder how long Rayne has been working here. I never asked him that.
“One of the most important things I learned while being here,” Leonora continues, and I turn to face her again, “is that my freedom is my own responsibility. That I have to be strong enough to stand on my own before giving away any of my freedom to someone else.”
“Being in a submissive and dominant dynamic or relationship relies on trust, honesty, safety, consent, and respect. Without all of those elements, there is no room for an established relationship.”
What she just said gave me chills. I trusted Arin.
I was always honest with him. I relied on him for my safety, but I didn’t consent to a lot of what we did.
I gave in because I couldn’t say no. I felt like if I did, he would make me leave and I would have nothing.
I was selfish and deserved what my life turned into.
I casually listened to the rest of the seminar; catching bits and pieces of how Leonora escaped an abusive situation, learned who she was and what she wanted, and moved on with her life. She didn’t give up the lifestyle entirely, and is in a healthy long-term dynamic now.
I envy her. I envy all the people who know who they are without ownership. Freedom frightens me; it makes my chest tight and stomach hurt. I went from being controlled by my family to being controlled by Arin.
I’m 33, and I don’t want to be free. I want structure; I crave rules, and want someone to take care of me. People begin to clap, and I realize Leonora has finished. I take this opportunity to sneak out, and I race down the stairs to the first floor and to my bedroom.
Slamming the door behind me, I leap onto my bed, and the tears flow out of my eyes with no control. I’m so afraid. After I leave here, I don’t know if I'll be able to take care of myself. Or if I want to.