Brianna
I’d been covertly watching the guy who’d come to install the security camera. He looked like he knew what he was doing, so I didn’t think it would take him long. I was right. By the time we finished eating breakfast, he was finished. Once he was gone, there would be no avoiding Stephan and his questions.
My responsibility in what happened weighed me down. I knew I shouldn’t have opened the door without checking to see who it was first, but I had anyway. It was stupid and reckless.
Cal’s call only delayed the inevitable. Stephan had given me last night. He wouldn’t put off our conversation any longer. He wasn’t like that.
By the time Stephan returned to the table, I was near tears. I’d done the wrong thing, and I knew there would be consequences. Although I had no idea what those consequences would be, I wasn’t as worried about that as much as I was about having to confess to him what I’d done.
We rinsed and loaded our dishes into the machine before walking over to his chair. I trailed behind, dragging my feet. He noticed and snapped his fingers, pointing to the spot beside him. Picking up my pace, I met him beside his chair. He let me stand there for several minutes, looking me up and down as if trying to see something. I started to get nervous.
“Don’t fidget.”
I stopped moving. Why was I moving? I’d learned how to stand stock-still with Ian. I’d learned the hard way, like I had everything else. Why was it difficult now?
He made me stand beside the chair for several more minutes before he invited me to sit on his lap. I wasn’t sure what to do with myself. Usually I would cuddle up to him and lay my head on his shoulder, but that didn’t seem right. I was in trouble, and I knew it.
“Tell me what happened yesterday, Brianna, and don’t leave anything out.”
“I was cleaning your bathroom when I thought I heard the phone ring,” I said, looking down at my lap. He wasn’t having it and lifted my chin up with his hand, forcing me to look at him. He wasn’t going to let me hide.
“That’s better. Start again. And this time look at me.”
“I . . . I was cleaning your bathroom. I thought I heard the phone. But I had your radio on. I wasn’t sure.”
“Then what did you do?” he asked when I didn’t say anything else.
“I heard a knock . . . on the door.”
“You were still in the bathroom?”
“No.” I shook my head. “In your bedroom.”
He nodded but didn’t say anything else. I knew he was waiting for me.
“The knocking got louder, and then I thought about the phone . . . how I’d thought I’d heard it . . . I thought maybe . . . Tom . . . had tried to call me, and when I didn’t . . . when I didn’t answer, he came up to check on me.”
“So you thought it was Tom?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
“When did you realize it wasn’t?”
I pressed my lips together, not wanting to say that part.
“Brianna.”
“When I opened the door.”
He placed his hands on either side of my face. I could feel the tension in them. It wasn’t the same loving gesture from the night before. He was angry with me, and he had every right to be.
“You opened the door without checking to see who it was first?”
I closed my eyes. I couldn’t look at him.
“Open your eyes. Now,” Stephan ordered.
I quickly reopened my eyes and met his angry stare.
“Answer the question.”
“Yes.”
“Yes, what?”
I swallowed.
“Yes, Sir. I answered the door without . . . without checking.”
He dropped his hands into his lap and looked at me. For the longest time, he didn’t say anything, and I could feel the uncertainty take hold. He’d said many times that he didn’t own me, that I wasn’t his slave. I believed that now, but what would happen if he didn’t want me to be here anymore? Stephan wouldn’t sell me, but he could make me leave. Where would I go? What would I do? How would I—
“Calm down, Brianna.”
I took several deep breaths, trying to do as he said.
“You know you did wrong, correct?”
“Yes, Sir.” I nodded.
“Good. That’s a start.” He paused. “You do realize I can’t just let this go, don’t you?”
“Yes, Sir.”
“You deliberately put yourself in danger.”
I nodded and looked down. This time, he didn’t stop me.
“Stand up.”
I moved quickly to obey him. Whatever my punishment was, I’d take it. Anything was better than having to leave.
He stood and walked around me to the small side table where he kept his keys. Opening the drawer, he removed something about a half-inch thick and rectangular and then placed it on the floor in front of the door. He straightened back up to his full height and waited. I realized he was waiting for me and moved quickly to stand in front of him.
“Kneel facing the door.” He nodded, motioning for me to kneel on what I now realized was a thin cushion.
I didn’t hesitate in complying and lowered myself to the floor.
He knelt down and adjusted the position of my legs, spreading them farther apart to where they were not far from the edges of the rectangle. I didn’t understand what was going on, but I didn’t question him.
“Now rise up onto your knees.”
I did as instructed, lifting my butt off my legs so that all my weight was supported by my knees. Once I was in position, he stood and walked around the other side of me.
“Place your arms behind your back and grasp your forearms.”
It had been a while since I’d been in this position, but I remembered it well. I fought a moment of panic at the memory. This was Stephan. I was fine. I was safe. He wouldn’t hurt me.
He reached into his pocket and removed a coin. When he brought it in front of my face, I realized it was a quarter. I had no idea what he planned on doing with it, but I didn’t ask. I was in enough trouble as it was.
Stephan placed the quarter between his thumb and index finger and held it against the door. “Lean forward and press your nose against the quarter, Brianna.”
I leaned forward, pressing my nose against the round metal coin. It was warm, probably from being in his pocket. The metallic scent filled my nostrils when I inhaled.
He backed away and walked around me again. His movements were slow and deliberate, each step measured. When he finally came to a stop, I could feel him staring down at me. From the position I was in, I couldn’t see his face. I could only imagine the disappointment in his eyes. I hated disappointing him.
“You are to stay in this position until I tell you otherwise. Do not let the quarter drop.” He paused. “Maybe next time you will stop and think before you open the door without looking, since you are going to be staring at it for a while.”
I closed my eyes and swallowed. I could do this.
Stephan
Once I was sure Brianna was in the correct position, I left her for a few moments to retrieve my laptop from my bedroom. Grabbing a dining room chair, I positioned it where I would have a clear view of her but she wasn’t able to see me. So far, she was doing fine, although I hadn’t expected her to have trouble yet. Holding that position for a short amount of time was easy. Her legs, however, would eventually start to feel the strain.
I opened my laptop and began checking e-mails. It was hard to tell how long it would take before she reached the point where I would stop her discipline. She’d come very close to being taken from me, and the responsibility for that ultimately lay upon her shoulders. If she’d waited another five minutes, Reeves would have been forced to leave the building while she remained safely inside our home. Opening the door without looking to see who it was first had been a stupid decision, and it was one I was bound and determined to make sure she thought long and hard about before doing again.
Once I finished going through my inbox, I sent an e-mail to Lily. I needed to go into work this afternoon, but I wasn’t comfortable leaving Brianna alone. If Lily couldn’t come and stay with her, then Brianna would have to come to the office with me. There were no other options.
Two minutes after I pressed send, Lily responded. I hadn’t gone into details in my message, just letting her know something had happened the night before and I didn’t want Brianna to be by herself. Her response was perfect. She would bring lunch around noon, and she could stay with Brianna until five. With that taken care of, I leaned back in my chair and pulled up a document I’d been working on the previous day. There was little I could do with it at home, but it would help me pass the time.
It was about fifteen minutes later when I noticed some movement from her. Her breathing had changed a little as well. The effort of holding the position was getting to her, as was intended.
Standing, I returned the chair to the dining room and left my laptop on the table. From the way she was acting, I estimated we had another five minutes left before her legs began to tremble with fatigue. I propped myself up against the back of the couch and waited.
As it turned out, I didn’t need to watch all that closely. In an almost coordinated fashion, her legs began to shake and a weak whimper escaped her lips. Pushing myself away from the couch, I walked across the room to tower over her.
Brianna glanced up at me, pleading in her eyes. Her lips were pressed so tightly together they were white. I waited for another thirty seconds, unmoving, before I reached down and took hold of the coin.
“You may sit down now, Brianna.” A large gush of air left her lungs as she sat back on her heels. I could still see the muscles in her legs flexing, trying to recover from the strain.
As I slipped the coin back into my pants pocket, I noted it was warmer than it had been when I’d placed it into position against the door. Hopefully she wouldn’t make me remove it again anytime soon. I was accustomed to using slightly more physical discipline with my submissives, spanking or possibly even gagging them. I didn’t think Brianna was ready for that, however. She might never be. Even if I could get her to the point of enjoying types of play that blurred the boundaries of pain and pleasure, I doubted that would ever carry over into discipline. I didn’t want Brianna confusing the two.
Looking down at her, I saw a red mark on the tip of her nose from where she’d pressed it up against the coin. It was rather cute, and it took effort for me not to smile.
Brianna wasn’t looking at me, though. She had her head tilted down, and I realized she was crying. Squatting down next to her, I brushed the moisture from her cheek.
“Talk to me. Tell me what’s wrong.”
“I . . . I’m . . . I didn’t mean to. I . . .”
I gathered her into my arms and carried her back over to my chair. Laying her head on my shoulder, I let her cry it out while I consoled her the best I could and rubbed the muscles in her legs so they wouldn’t cramp up on her.
A submissive was supposed to feel remorse when they received correction for something they’d done wrong, but I hadn’t expected it to cause her tears, especially not to the extent where she was having difficulty speaking coherently. As with so much when it came to Brianna, her reactions rarely made sense unless you took into consideration the whole of her life and circumstances. I could safely say my point was driven home. I doubted she would ever open the door again without checking to see who it was first.
It took a long while before her tears subsided, and her breathing returned to normal.
“How are you feeling, Brianna?”
“I didn’t mean to do something reckless.”
I cupped her face gently with my hands and kissed her forehead, before tilting her head up so I could look into her eyes. “I know you didn’t mean to, Brianna, but I can only do so much to try to keep you safe. You have to help me by doing your part. That means not opening the door without knowing who it is. It means paying attention to your surroundings, especially when you’re out in public or not with me. I don’t want anything to happen to you. I don’t know if I could take it.”
“I’ll do better, Sir.”
“Good girl.”
I gave her a soft kiss, and she met my lips eagerly. It could have easily gotten out of control, but I broke the connection before it got that far. As much as I would have loved to get lost in her and forget about everything else, there were still a few things we needed to discuss. I laid her head back on my shoulder and hugged her close.
“Your father went to see Ross last night.”
She tensed but didn’t comment.
“He was upset I wouldn’t let you leave with him.”
“I don’t want to go,” she whispered.
“Shh. No one is going to make you go anywhere you don’t want to go, Brianna.”
She pressed her face into my neck and played with the buttons on my shirt. I’d gone ahead and put on a dress shirt and slacks earlier, but I should have known better. By the time I was ready to leave for work, it would be wrinkled. Brianna loved to play with the front of my dress shirts.
We sat there for several minutes before she finally spoke up. “Why?”
“Why what?” I asked, brushing my lips against her hair.
“Why did he . . . why did he let . . . Ian . . . have me?”
I sighed and held her tighter, knowing this was going to be difficult for her. She must have blocked out most of the conversation I’d had with her father.
“He says he didn’t. He claims he doesn’t know who Pierce is.”
“How?” she asked, holding tighter to my shirt.
There was a part of me that didn’t want her to know this. I wanted to shield her from the pain. Logic, however, told me I needed to tell her. This was her life. She’d suffered for her father’s mistakes, and she should know the extent of it.
“When your mother got sick, your father started gambling. He got in over his head and had to borrow money from a man named Dumas to pay off his debts. He says he didn’t want to involve you, and a part of me buys that, but it doesn’t change what happened.”
She was quiet for a long time, but I waited. I knew she’d want more, but I wanted to give her a chance to digest the new information I’d provided.
“But . . .”
“But what?”
“The car. What about the car he sent for me?” My shirt was bunched tight in her hands. There would be no saving it.
“Your father says he went to see Dumas that day and that Dumas brought you up in conversation. Dumas said he wanted to meet you. The car was his idea, according to your father. You were supposed to be joining them for dinner.” I paused. “When you didn’t arrive, Dumas let your father know that his debts had been paid in full.”
“Ian,” she whispered.
“Yes.”
There was a long pause.
“So, John didn’t know? He didn’t . . . sell me?”
“That’s his story.”
“You don’t believe him?”
“I don’t know if I believe him or not. He’s an officer of the law, yet at no point in time did he file a missing person’s report for you. If he wasn’t involved, why didn’t he do that? If I suspected my daughter had been taken, I would move heaven and earth to find her.”