Rebecca's Lost Journals, Volume 3: His Submissive (Inside Out #1.3)(11)

“This,” he said softly, “is the only room in my private quarters where you are allowed to wear clothing. Undress, Rebecca.”

I drew a slow breath, nervous to undress without knowing what was behind the other door, but I knew that if I was going to do this, to let him be my Master, I had to trust him. I unzipped the dress and let it fall to the ground.

“All of it,” he ordered.

I stripped off my panties and bra.

“All of it,” he repeated.

I kicked off my shoes and then peeled away my hose. When I finished, his gaze swept over my body, his expression fiercely primal. I craved his touch and hungered for him to undress. He gave me neither of these things. Instead, he hit a button on a remote I didn’t realize he’d been holding and the mystery door slid open. He stepped aside and motioned me forward. “Stop just inside the room.”

Anticipation burned inside me as I walked toward the door and tentatively entered. Beneath my bare toes, a thick, luxurious burgundy carpet absorbed my steps. Candles flickered, creating a sweet vanilla scent in the huge circular room. There were two more doors, one on each side of the room, and a wide archway directly across from me. A large chaise longue sat by one door. A small pedestal sat by another. Drapes were positioned at several places on the walls and I wondered what they covered.

But what really caught my eye was the archway that I couldn’t see beyond. My Master stepped behind me, leaning in close but not touching me. “Go through the archway, Rebecca.”

For some reason, I knew whatever was beyond that arch would change me in some way. I knew that no one would ever use the word “innocent” when talking about me again. A part of me hesitated, holding on to that innocence. Ignorance can be bliss, the truth painful. My mother had taught me that all too well. But not knowing the truth, the facts—I don’t want that ever again.

With that thought, I walked steadily forward. I wanted knowledge. I wanted to know whatever there was to know. I didn’t want to be naive and blind anymore about anything if I could help it.

I walked up three stairs to the main level. Curtains covered every wall around a circular room that was empty but for a pedestal in the middle that held some sort of steel archway shaped like the one I’d just passed through.

“Stand in the center of it,” my Master ordered.

I moved forward without hesitation. I’d come that far and I wanted to complete what I’d started. Once I stopped under the archway, he stepped in front of me. “On your knees.”

I did as he commanded.

“Hands behind your back and lace your fingers,” he ordered next. ”Don’t move them or I’ll bind them.”

Again, I did what he ordered, the position thrusting my breasts high in the air. His hot stare swept over them, puckering my already sensitive nipples, and I could almost taste his hunger, his desire. He enjoyed me bowing down to him. I know this as I write, as surely as I knew it in that room. He enjoyed the control it gave him. The power. And I was aroused by those things in him, wet and slick between my thighs.

“I can choose to let others watch us in this room,” he informed me.

My heart jackhammered and I opened my mouth to object when he added, “But tonight we just observe. You observe and discover all that you don’t know.” He hit a button on the remote he held, and the curtain behind him began to lift to reveal a gigantic video screen.

My Master moved to stand behind me, allowing me to see the image of a man chained to an archway like the one around me, two women on their knees before him, licking him and teasing him. “He’s being punished, Rebecca,” my Master explained. “The female on the left is his Master.”

Punished? The man seemed to be enjoying himself, his expression stark with desire, his hips thrusting forward. I was certain he was about to come. Abruptly, though, the two women pulled away from him and began kissing each other, leaving him wanting for completion.

“Each time he nears release, they stop,” my Master explained. “It’s a far worse punishment than flogging or whipping.”

The channel changed and a new scene appeared. A woman stood on a pedestal on top of a stage, tied to another archway with what must have been twenty-five people surrounding her. A man dressed in leather used a whip on her back and she bucked against each blow. I could see pain etched in her face. I watched the whip come down on her and I gasped with the impact I imagined she felt. I couldn’t watch it again. I needed to get out of there. That woman needed out of there.

I dropped my hands and started to get up. My Master wrapped his arms around me and pulled my back to his chest, burying his face in my hair. “Stay. I need you to stay.”

He needed me. Those words were probably the only ones that could have penetrated my need to escape. As they seeped into my mind, my body relaxed against his. But my mind was uneasy—fearful, even. “Is that what you want to do to me?”

“I told you I wouldn’t ever punish you in public, and I won’t. This is about seeing everything that goes on here, so you aren’t shocked later.”

“Somehow I think I will still end up shocked later.”

He didn’t deny that I was right. Instead, he stood up and walked around to squat in front of me, his finger sliding under my chin. “We decide what we do. We make our rules. And you always, and I mean always, have your safe word. Say it now, Rebecca.”