The Submissive's Last Word (The Power to Please #4) by Deena Ward Read Free Book Online

of
country air.
    It was late afternoon, and the insects were in full-on buzz
mode, probably hailing the unseasonably warm weather. I could barely hear the
sounds of Paulina’s crew slaving away distant and unseen on the south lawn.
    I noted Gibson’s frequent glances in my direction. “I’m
okay,” I said.
    “I’m glad.”
    I wasn’t sure he believed me. “I mean it. I feel better,
lighter.”
    He gave me a long look. I must have passed inspection,
because he said, “Good.”
    “I think I’m ready to talk about this thing,” I said. “No, I
know I’m ready.”
    “I’m not sure that’s a good idea. Not today.”
    “No. Really. I’m ready.” And I meant it, was sure of it. The
tears had drained away much of the heaviness that had been holding me down. I
was ready to create forward momentum. I wanted to know what Gibson thought I
needed to know.
    I knew Gibson was ready to talk. It was why he had come to the
cottage. When I didn’t answer the door, he got worried and went inside, sought
me out, found me in the closet.
    “You’re certain?” he asked.
    “I am.”
    “Then we can at least give it a try. Remember that we can
stop at any time.”
    “I will. I’m not watching the video though.”
    “Then I don’t know what it is you’re wanting —”
    “I’m hoping we can come to an agreement about this. Meet in
the middle.” I sent him a hopeful look.
    “Okay. Explain.”
    “I’d like to try just talking about it, about what happened
that night. I was there, so I already know, sort of. And what I don’t know, you
can tell me if it’s important. It’s the only way I can do it. Can we at least
try?”
    He mulled it over for a few moments. “If you’re more
comfortable that way, then yes. Certainly.”
    I smiled at him and he gave me a small, business-like nod in
return.
    “Are you ready right now?” he asked.
    “I think so. Yes, I mean. I’m ready.”
    “Okay then. Let me think about where to begin.”
    I took a sip of my tea and gave him the quiet he needed. I
tried to sound confident about discussing this with him, and as much as I
wanted to make progress, I was still scared. It wasn’t only because I didn’t
want to relive that night; a big chunk of my discomfort came from not wanting
to discuss with Gibson what I had done with Michael. I couldn’t imagine that
Gibson was thrilled at the prospect of hearing it, either.
    I closed my eyes for a moment and promised myself everything
would be fine. Elaine had assured me that Gibson wouldn’t ask this of me if it
weren’t important. Trust Elaine. Trust Gibson.
    I opened my eyes and turned to him. He watched me with a
shuttered expression.
    “I’m hoping,” he said, “that you won’t mind answering some
questions. Because the video is dubbed over so much, I’m not clear on certain
details. For instance, were you actually being punished that night, or was that
just part of the fictional story line?”
    “I was being punished, for three things I’d done wrong.” I
kept my voice steady and firm, unemotional.
    “What were those things?”
    “They happened at the restaurant, the Millhouse. It was the
night I saw you, and when Michael caught us together in the coat check room.”
    “I remember. He punished you for that?”
    “Kind of. The first punishment was for removing a toy from
... I did something without permission, removed something he put inside me.”
    “What was it you removed?”
    You can do this, I told myself. “Ben Wa balls. I took them
out at the restaurant without permission because I thought it would be okay. He
was mad at me for talking to you, and I didn’t see any reason to keep them in
there when we were leaving anyway. But that was wrong, and I wasn’t supposed to
do it, so that was the first punishment.”
    “I see. Thank you for telling me,” Gibson said, the
non-judgmental warmth of his voice soothing my nerves. “What was the second
punishment for?”
     “For going into the coat check room with