Uncovering You 2: Submission Page 5

  “Get up,” he commands. When I’m too slow to respond, the command becomes an enraged yell. “I said, get up!”

  I scramble to my feet, losing my balance twice in the process. My face is wet with tears and saliva. Stonehart grabs the belt holding my arms back and pushes me toward the table.

  My whole body is shaking. I can’t stop my tears. My former resolve? Gone. I just want out of this horrible nightmare.

  “Get on,” he says. I start to turn my head back, just to get a look at him, but he prevents that from happening by shoving me forward. I stumble and fall. “Goddammit, Lilly,” Stonehart roars, “GET ON THE FUCKING TABLE!”

  The rage in his voice makes me comply in sheer terror.

  I struggle up again. Stonehart grabs the belt and guides me to our dinner table. With a broad, impatient sweep of his arm, he clears the dishware. Everything crashes to the floor.

  I catch a quick glimpse of his face. It fills me with absolute, soul-wrenching fear.

  It’s insane the things your mind picks up in desperate situations. I feel suddenly glad that he hasn’t made me face him.

  “Lean over,” Stonehart commands. “Face down. Breasts on the table top. Don’t make me ask twice, Lilly.”

  I do as he says without a second’s hesitation.

  “Now,” he continues, “Spread your legs. Stick your ass out. Yes.” The word is a deep rasp. “God, yes. Just like that.”

  He steps up to me. I can feel the fabric of his pants brushing against my bare legs. His hands stroke my hair, then move slowly down my back. Down my back, over my ass, and—I gasp—right inside me.

  “You’re wet,” he says. He can’t hide his surprise. “Holy shit.” His fingers start probing me. He chuckles. “Holy shit, Lilly, look at you. You might just be enjoying this as much as I am.”

  Somehow, I severely doubt that.

  I gasp again as three of his fingers plunge all the way into me. He leans down and whispers in my ear. “I’m going to fuck you now. I want you to scream.” His teeth scrape my earlobe. “Scream for me, little flower. Scream loud.”

  Chapter Nine

  I lie on the table and cry out as Stonehart pounds into me. He’s relentless, ruthless. I have no idea how long this has been going on anymore.

  My shoulders scream in pain as he holds my arms back and drives into me, again and again and again, with all the fury and rage that I incited.

  He grabs my hair and pulls me back, pressing down on my spine at the same time so that my body forms a half-moon arc. Tears stain my face as he starts moving faster, each determined thrust tearing into me. I can’t believe his stamina. I curse myself for ever complaining about my ex-boyfriend’s. There’s karma for you.

  The assault is endless. Try as I will to ease the discomfort by making my body relax, it’s impossible. Every fiber of my being is clenched tight against the onslaught. It makes the pain worse.

  Stonehart’s hand darts around and grabs one of my breasts. In a quick, rough motion, he pulls out and spins me around. The back of my head bangs off the table. Stonehart emits a wordless, guttural growl and shoots all over my body. Some of his cum gets on my face. I cringe and wince away.

  There is almost no down-time as he pushes into me again, hard as a rock. I open my eyes and gasp at him. How is this even possible? He starts pumping his hips once more, both his hands grabbing and tearing into my body. He’s panting. I’m panting, too. I force my eyes to the high ceiling overhead so I don’t see his face. I close my eyes, and pray for this to be over soon.

  ***

  Stonehart leaves me shaking and whimpering on the table. He does not say anything, or even acknowledge me after he climaxes for the second time. He simply unties my wrists and walks away.

  I curl up into a small ball on the table top, cradling myself. My conscious mind flees into a dark, distant corner where nothing can touch it. It’s a place where the pain does not feel so bad.

  Exhausted, abused, and breaking, I succumb to a restless sleep.

  Chapter Ten

  I come to the next morning and feel warm sunshine on my face. I open my eyes. My head is groggy from nightmares. I discover that a thick wool blanket has been placed over my body.

  I sit up on the table, clutching the fabric to my neck. I hold one hand to my head. Every heartbeat sends a shooting pain across my temples. I desperately need some Advil.

  As if my last thought was a spoken wish, Rose bustles into my line of sight, carrying a tall glass of water and a little tray of pills.

  “Here, dear. Have these,” she says in her gentle, motherly voice. I take the glass from her with trembling hands and swallow the pills. As I do, she puts her arm around my shoulders and tenderly rubs my back.

  Only after I’ve swallowed the pills do I realize that I don’t even know what they were. Rose catches the aghast expression on my face and whispers, “Extra-strength Tylenols, Miss Ryder. And one morning-after pill.”

  The mention of that makes me suddenly sick.

  She knows, I think in horror.

  Of course she knows! My inner-dialogue counters. She works for him, remember?

  “Come on, dear,” Rose says. “I’ve set the bathwater hot, just how you like it. I’m going to help you get cleaned up.”

  I tug at the blanket. “You did this?” I ask, my voice small and weak. I hate how pathetic I sound.

  “No, that was Mr. Stonehart. He came in this morning before leaving for work. He also left you this.”

  Rose reveals a small, velvet box. It’s just like the one Stonehart gave me before.

  “I don’t want it,” I say, bile building in my throat. “Please, put it away. I don’t want to see it now.”

  “I’ll leave it in your powder room,” she says gently, before making it disappear in her pocket. “Come now, Miss Ryder, it’s time to get you in your bath. I’ll help you.”

  I lean on the graying woman’s shoulders and let her lead me down the hall to the bathroom. I peek under the blanket as we walk and see that my dress is gone. Did Stonehart do that this morning, too?

  Rose helps me step into the water. She makes no comment on the state of my body. The bath is blessedly hot, and scented with flowers.

  “Let me wash your hair,” she says after I’ve settled in. I nod, still numb from the events of last night. “Lie back,” she suggests. “Dip your head in.”

  I do. Submerging myself in the tub, I can almost forget where I am. Almost. The collar around my neck is a constant reminder.

  Rose builds up a lather in my hair. Her fingers are soft and gentle. I try my best to relax, just a little bit.

  A long time passes where neither of us speaks. After some of the warmth has seeped into my body, I break the silence in a small voice. “Why are you taking care of me this way?”

  She clicks her tongue in a reprimanding but gentle way. “Mr. Stonehart asked me to look after you,” she says. “But, that’s not why I’m doing this. I’m doing it because I want to, Miss Ryder.”

  I look over my shoulder at her. She smiles at me, the lines of her face making her even more compassionate.

  I wonder how a woman as kind and wonderful as Rose ever found herself working for a man as cruel as Stonehart.

  “Thank you,” I whisper.

  “It’s my pleasure,” she says. “Now, I want you to close your eyes and relax. I promise, while I’m around, nothing bad will happen.”

  ***

  Rose cuddles me up in a fluffy robe and leads me from the bathroom. We enter the sunroom, and I discover that all evidence of last night is gone. The table, the cutlery, the broken dishware—all of it is gone.

  In its place is a high-backed chair.

  “I couldn’t bear the thought of you sleeping on the floor,” Rose whispers in my ear. “So I had the chair brought in. Mr. Stonehart may not give you a bed, but he said nothing about other types of furniture.”

  My heart swells with so much happiness and hope that I trip over my feet. Rose catches me before I can fall.
She looks at me, concern glazing her eyes. “Miss Ryder? Are you all right?”

  “Yes,” I stammer. “Yes, I am.” I feel tears building and can’t do anything to stop them. I never used to cry so easily. I don’t know what’s gotten into me.

  On impulse, I throw my arms around Rose’s neck and squeeze her in a great big hug. She’s blushing when I let go.

  “Miss Ryder,” she says clearly flustered, “I’m not sure if I deserve that.”

  “You’re the first person to show me a sliver of kindness,” I whisper. “Rose, you don’t know how much that means to me.”

  She looks away for a second and fans her face. When she turns back, there are unshed tears in her eyes. “I didn’t want to overstep myself,” she admits, “…but, I had my suspicions.” She takes my hand. “Come on. Let’s get you dressed.”

  Chapter Eleven

  Rose leaves after helping pick out my clothes. All I have for company is the dread of Stonehart’s imminent return.

  That, and the velvet box lying on the counter of the powder room.

  I eye it without picking it up. I don’t want his tokens. But my role—I shake my head—my role is to be his submissive. When my emotions get the better of me, like last night… bad things happen.

  I need to be cold, dispassionate, and distant to have any chance of making an escape. I have to think like Stonehart. I have to be like Stonehart.

  And I can’t know what he’s like if I stick my head in the sand.

  My fingers tremble as I reach for the little box. I hesitate just before I touch it, then push through my discomfort and sweep it up.

  It’s heavier than the one before. I look over my shoulder to make sure I’m still alone. When that’s confirmed, I push the lid open.

  A small, folded sheet of paper obscures whatever is underneath. I see Stonehart’s handwriting on it. Revulsion builds in my throat, but I force it down. I take a deep breath, channeling my inner strength, and unfold the note.

  Lilly,

  For your cooperation last night, a second token. Their value is not in their worth, but in what they represent: Freedom.

  Collect enough and they may be redeemed for a reward. How fast you earn them depends on your compliance. Once gifted, Tokens of Good Behavior cannot be taken away. They belong to you.

  TGB Progression:

  (5) earned to be allowed outside your rooms.

  (10) to be given access to roam the estate, outdoors.

  (15) access to newspapers to inform you of current events

  (20) full internet access, with the caveat that your browsing will be monitored by me

  (35) public outings by my side

  (50) an early release from your contract

  - J.S.

  I stare at the last line of his note, hardly believing my eyes. He is offering me an early release with fifty tokens?

  I know it’s just his way of baiting me, giving me false hope. Hopelessness leads to despair. Too much hope leads to boldness. But hope, when present in just the right amount, can be a powerful motivator.

  I tuck the note into my pocket but refuse to think about collecting fifty tokens. He’s the one who gives them out. He’s the one keeping track.

  He will never let me reach fifty.

  But the other milestones… I think he genuinely means for them to be accessible.

  Three more and I’d be allowed out of these rooms? Hell, I’ll take it. It’s not the prospect of false freedom that excites me. Rather, it’s the opportunity to explore his house.

  It will be my first venture into gathering the information I need to get back at Stonehart… and ruin him.

  ***

  The second token ends up being a heavy gold bracelet that I put on my wrist. I wonder if Stonehart expects me to wear all of them as I earn them. That sounds ridiculous, especially, when considering the higher numbers. My immediate goal is to get five.

  Maybe fifteen.

  I spend the rest of the day anxious on my new chair. All I can do is wait for Stonehart’s return. Whether that happens tonight or tomorrow, I have every intention of being ready this time.

  Chapter Twelve

  I’m dozing off when the door to the sunroom slams shut. I jerk up, instantly awake, and find Stonehart glaring at me.

  “How did you get that?” he demands, thrusting a finger at my chair. His eyes glow like embers in his skull.

  I stand and face him. “Good evening, Jeremy,” I say, keeping my voice pleasant.

  He surprises me by walking over and backhanding me across the face. The force of the blow makes me fall to the floor.

  “ANSWER ME!” he roars.

  “Rose gave it to me,” I mumble, cowering away. It’s not like Stonehart really has any doubt who brought me the chair. Rose is the only person with access to my rooms.

  Stonehart blinks. “Oh,” he says, his rage fading. He stands straight and adjusts his suit. When he addresses me next, his voice is icy calm.

  “Tell me, Lilly. Did you ask Rose for the chair?”

  “No!” I gasp, clasping a hand over my mouth. The last thing I want is for Rose to get in trouble because of me.

  “Hmm.” He nods. “And you’re telling the truth?”

  I’m in too deep to back out now. I nod, eyeing him with caution.

  “You know that I have every intention of finding out?” Stonehart poses. “If you lie to me, the consequences will not be pleasant, I promise that. I’ll ask you one more time. Did you ask for the chair?”

  “No,” I say.

  He smiles suddenly and offers me a hand. “Good! Then there’s no problem here.”

  I hesitate before taking it. My cheek is stinging. It’s probably already inflamed, but I won’t give him the satisfaction of seeing my fear.

  His strong fingers wrap around my small hand and he helps me up. When I’m standing straight, he takes in my dress.

  “Very tasteful,” he tells me. “Although a little wrinkled from your nap. Let’s see…” he lifts the skirt up all the way to my waist. I fight the temptation to clutch the dress down. He takes in my bare legs. When his eyes focus on my exposed core, I can’t help the little rush of heat that pools there. Holy shit, but that is not the reaction I should be having to him!

  He lets my dress drop. “Nice,” he says. “Very nice. Now, do a little twirl for me, will you, Lilly-flower?”

  I press my lips together and offer a tight smile, then spin once.

  “Magnificent,” Stonehart breathes. He picks up my left hand and fingers the bracelet. “I take it you received my note?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Did you understand it?”

  I nod. “Yes.”

  “Good. Because if you keep looking like this, I’ll have no choice but to speed up the progression of your freedoms. I want you at my side. Outside.”

  My breath hitches at the suggestion. “I will do my best to earn the tokens,” I say.

  Stonehart smiles. “Excellent.” He looks over his shoulder at the darkening sky outside. “It’s a beautiful view, isn’t it?”

  “Yes,” I say.

  “Do you like it?”

  I bite my lip to stop the truth from spilling out. In any other situation, I would love it, but I hate the view because of the false promise of freedom it provides.

  “I do.”

  “I’m glad,” he says. “Lilly, I’m going to be frank. I had a long day at work. After our… escapades… last night, my mind was fixed on you the whole time I was there.”

  I swallow. “Oh?” My voice is small.

  “Yes. The courage you showed facing me was extraordinary. Utterly brilliant.”

  I look at him without comprehension. “What?”

  “I don’t know,” he continues, ignoring my question, “if one token was enough. I think you deserve more. Therefore—” he reaches into his coat pocket, “I would like to present you with three others.”

  My heart rises in my chest. Three means that I’ll have five, which means I can re
deem them for my first freedom! I feel moisture building behind my eyes and look away, ashamed to be crying. But they are joyful tears, a mixture of relief and disbelief.

  “Lilly,” Stonehart reminds me. I look at him, then down at his outstretched hand. In it is one beautiful, red masquerade mask complete with dazzling feathers. “Put this on.”

  My breath hitches. This is one thing. Was he lying? Was the promise of three tokens another trick?

  “This isn’t your TGB,” he says, as if reading my mind. “But I do need you to put it on before I can show you what is.”

  I take the mask from him. Our fingers brush, and a jolt of electricity runs up my arm. I curse my weakness.

  “Put it over your eyes,” he whispers. He takes my shoulders and gently turns me around. “I will tie it.”

  I hold the mask over my face. Stonehart sweeps my hair aside, gentle as a zephyr, and ties the two strings. His hands run down my naked neck, skimming over the ever-present collar.

  He brings his nose to my ear and takes a long, deep inhale. “You smell lovely,” he says, his sexy voice rasping and doing all sorts of inappropriate things to my insides.

  I have to fight his effect on me. How can my body respond to him this way? Rationally, it makes no sense. Just minutes ago, the man slapped me! Why does my reaction to him change so quickly?

  He lets go, and immediately my skin tingles for his touch. I take a steadying breath and turn around. “How do I look?”

  “Beautiful,” he smiles. “Would you like to see?”

  I don’t have time to consider the offer as he takes out his phone and snaps a picture. It seems to please him.

  “That,” he says, turning the screen so I can see it, “is a dazzling woman.”

  I suck in a breath when I see the picture. My cheek is bright red and swollen from where he struck me.

  I can’t bear to see myself like that. “Please,” I say to him, “put that away.”

  He frowns. “You do not think you’re beautiful?” He keeps the phone directed at me.

  “Jeremy, please,” I beg. “Don’t make me look.”