Chapter One
SHAY
Today is the day I leave the hospital, and I go to the Institute.
The counselor here told me I would have to go through intake, so they didn’t give me any medications today.
I would have to be sound and sober to learn the rules of the facility and consent to treatment.
It will be my first time making any kind of medical decision on my own.
It has been so long since I’ve had to take care of myself. I'm afraid of the world. It’s been so long since I had a job, traveled, or lived on my own, and had to worry about money.
Yesterday Arin’s lawyer came to visit. I've seen him before at the house, but this is the first time he’s ever spoken to me. He’s an older man, and every time I saw him, Arin looked comfortable around him. He must be someone I can trust, too.
The lawyer told me Arin had left me money in his will; that it would be enough to last me for a long time. I was still too out of it to ask any questions, but he said my stay at Meridian would be taken care of. He seemed sincere and wished me all the best in my recovery.
At least I have someone to reach out to once this is all over.
I take a deep breath and take one final look out the window of the room I’ve stayed in for the last week. The flowers in the courtyard are in full bloom, the trees are bright green; there is so much life and beauty out there.
I wish I felt like that inside. Instead, I feel as dead as Arin was when I last saw him. As dead as I wish I was.
The drive to the facility has taken over 13 hours, and I tried to sleep for most of it.
Arin’s driver, Leo, came to pick me up from the hospital in his usual car; it smelled of Arin and brought back so many memories.
I cried myself to sleep in the back seat while sitting in Arin’s usual spot.
It made me feel closer to him—I’ll miss being in this car.
It’ll be the last time I get to smell him and be where he’s been.
His funeral is in a few days, and I’ve been told by Leo that his extended family is handling everything.
I am not invited, and it hurts more than words can say.
I suppose I’ve already said my goodbyes, but I wanted to see him be buried.
I wanted to say one last goodbye, and they robbed me of it.
I hope I get a sedative after the intake session is over; I just want this never-ending pain in my chest to go away. My stomach is constantly in knots, my heart races at random times, and I can’t fight the anxiety that builds up after the medicine wears off.
We finally pull up to a large gate; I can see the building set back beyond the gate, and it’s beautiful.
It reminds me of an old colonial home. It’s surrounded by woods; there are no houses nearby, and we are somewhere in Atlanta, Georgia.
I’ve never been in this area before; my skin tingles with nerves.
Once the gates open, Leo drives up to the building entrance. He packed up some of my things after I was admitted to the hospital and brought them with us. Two large suitcases hold everything that I own in this world. Arin gave me everything, and now without him, I am nothing.
I get out of the car as a beautiful woman with glasses walks out of the building. She looks around my age, but she is a bit taller; her smile is warm.
“Welcome, Shay. My name is Tabitha Sawyer, and I am one of the lead psychiatrists at the Meridian Institute,” she holds out her hand for me to shake. I slowly extend my right hand and grip hers lightly.
“You can leave her bags in the front room; I’ll have someone bring them up to her room shortly,” she says to Leo. He nods in understanding and walks in before we do.
I take one last look around me before she motions me to walk in. As I open the door, I feel as if I’m walking into a tomb. Instead of feeling relieved, I am utterly terrified.
The facility is huge; the main level we started on has a sitting room for family visits, though I wouldn't have anyone visit me here. In the dining room and kitchen area, it smelled like they were already making food, and my stomach grumbled. The food at the hospital was bland and had a weird texture. Nothing like the food at Arin’s.
Tabitha took me to my room, 13. It has a bed, a window, a small closet, and a dresser. There are three doors: one leads to the hallway, another to a connecting room, and the third to a shared bathroom. I wonder who my roommate will be.
I always had my own bathroom and bedroom at Arin’s. Even if I didn’t always have access to leave the room whenever I wanted, it was a space I felt the safest. And he knew that.
She leads me upstairs to her office for intake.
I feel cold and clammy, my palms sweaty as I take a seat in a chair in front of her desk.
Her office reminds me of the library room back home.
Dark wood everywhere, soft leather seats, books alongside the wall, and a cozy ambiance that makes me want to doze off.
I take a deep breath and shake off the dreary feeling that keeps creeping up.
“So I have to start off by asking that you understand why you are here. I told the hospital you came from not to give you any mind-altering medication, so that you can give an informed consent to the program.” Her voice is soft, but serious.
“Y—yes, I understand,” I whisper with my head down as I look at my lap.
“Shay,” she says softly, and I bring my head up to meet her blue eyes.
“I’m very sorry about what happened to your partner last week.
We are here to help you through your situation and make sure you can go back out into the world and take care of yourself.
I understand your relationship with him, and it’s dynamic.
That’s what makes Meridian so unique.” I nod as she continues.
“The length of the program is 6 weeks; you will be paired with a specific trainer for those 6 weeks. We offer different types of training depending on your needs and goals. So let’s discuss what type of submissive you are.
Everything you tell me only helps me determine who to pair you with, so you get the best fit. ”
Best fit? That was Arin. We were perfect for each other. But I keep my mouth shut and just nod. Although I’ve always felt more comfortable around women, something about Tabitha screams dominance, and I’ve been trained to only open my mouth when absolutely necessary.
“What was his name? Your partner?”
“Arin.” Saying his name out loud stings my eyes. My vision becomes blurry, and it’s hard to swallow. I grip the arms of the chair I’m in and close my eyes. All I see is his lifeless body in the bathroom.
“It’s okay, take your time. I know this is going to be difficult, and if you want to stop at any moment, just say the word. We can pick this up later.” I open my eyes, tears streaming down my face, and watch as she goes through some papers she has in front of her.
“He—he killed himself, and le—left me all alone,” I stutter; more tears falling, coating my chin and neck. Her expression changes for a split second, but my blurry vision made it hard to really see what it was.
“Okay, Shay. We can work through those feelings. Are you feeling suicidal at this moment?” I shake my head no. I don’t know if that’s true. I’m not even really sure why I did what I did when I found him last week.
Did I really want to die? Why was that my first instinct after finding him? That thought frightens me.
“That’s good. If at any point during your stay here you feel that way. Let me, or your trainer, know. You won’t be punished for doing that. Your safety is important. Do you understand?”
“Yes, I understand,” the tears have finally stopped falling.
“I have a lot of information here from your stay at the hospital this past week. You did some therapy there, but it will be different here. We specialize in patients with your background. I will pair you with a dominant that understands the dynamic of being a Dominant Daddy to help you through your transition.”
“No! I don’t want anyone else!” I scream out and jump up out of my chair. This is an utter betrayal to Arin. He was my first and only Dom, and I won’t submit to another.
I can’t. My heart won’t let me.
“Shay, it’s okay,” Tabitha says softly; her face sympathetic.
“This is all part of your therapy. I know it sounds like I want to replace your previous partner, but this will help you. I promise. You can do this, now please, sit down.” She keeps eye contact, and it makes me put my head down and do as I’m told.
I know I’m here to heal, but I can’t bring myself to open up and do what needs to be done. I feel like I’m hurting Arin by being here. I want to think he would want me to move on—explore the world without him. My heart is heavy—with regret, shame, and sorrow.
It’s hard to do anything without him; we were together for so long that I don’t know how to be alone anymore. When I first met Arin, I was in a tough place in my life. I was being abused by a man I thought loved me—instead, he was using me for his own benefit and didn’t care about me.
Arin and I met by chance. It was fate, I told myself. He learned my needs and wants and adjusted his life to take care of me. I didn’t know anything about the BDSM community until him. All I know is what he taught me. What if I do something wrong during therapy?
“Shay? Are you still with me?” Tabitha’s voice breaks me away from my thoughts. I nod my head quickly.
“Okay, good. Let’s move on to the therapy portion of your stay here. As I said, we will find someone who has experience, and that will help you adapt to being out in the world again.”
I sniffle, but I don’t say a word. I can do hard things; I’m a good girl, I tell myself.
“Therapy will teach you what to look for in a Dominant; this is important. I don’t want you to go out in the world and choose someone that will harm you. You were with the same man for many years. Not everyone is trained or experienced enough to handle being your Dominant.”
“I know,” I whisper.
“Do you consent to being punished for breaking the rules your therapist will have in place?” Her voice is serious, and I look up at her.
“Yes,” I say confidently. Although punishments are meant to be painful and not something to look forward to, I always secretly liked it when Arin punished me. It meant I would have more of his attention, so I would be a brat on purpose sometimes.
“What were Arin’s rules like? What did he do for you day to day?”
I hesitated for a moment before answering. “He wanted me to be obedient. He would make sure I ate, slept, drank water, and bathed every day.”
“Shay, are you capable of doing all of those things on your own?”
“Yes—but I liked his attention. So I wouldn’t do them all the time.” I bite my lower lip in embarrassment. She did ask me to be honest, so I am.
“Good. Just so you remember, you won’t ever be judged here.
It will be at the discretion of your therapist how he would like to handle you while you are under his care.
I will have a specific goal he must achieve for you, but otherwise he is free to handle you in whatever manner he sees fit.
Do you understand, and most importantly, consent? ”
I take a minute to answer. Should I allow a complete stranger to have power over me again? I did with Arin—and here we are now. I don’t have a choice; if I want to move on with my life, I have to do this.
“Yes—I consent.”