Page 52 of The Assignment: Room 3

“Yes, Master.”

I’m entranced as he moves to the wall of canes, paddles, whips, and floggers. I’m already wet just seeing the way he runs his fingers over each item until he finds the one he wants—a long, brown leather flogger. It has a sturdy, thick handle with a ring to ensure a firm grip and a generous head of long leather strips. It’s a loud crack flogger—my favorite.

“Oh, this is going to be fun. Your eyes light up at the prospect of pain at my hands, and I can already see how wet you are for me. This is going to hurt, pet.”

“Good.”

He comes to a stop at the end of the bed. “Forget something?” The flogger makes contact with my pussy, my legs tied down so tight I have no way of escaping the onslaught, and it’s exactly the way I want it.

“Sorry, Master.”

“Good girl.”

As Flex massages my wrists and ankles back to life, I can’t take my eyes off him. His tattoos snake their way around his biceps and across his chest. I’ve always found them such a turn-on, but as I take in the sight of them now, I notice the details—names and dates over his heart. Commemorative.

“What do your tattoos mean?” It feels like an intimate question, but what we just did was pretty intimate.

“Fallen comrades. People I loved dearly.” His voice sounds strained as he lies down next to me.

“Why did you join the Navy?”

“Why not?”

“I didn’t mean it in a bad way. You’re a hero in my eyes. Serving your country so people like me can live without the threat of our freedoms being taken away. It’s admirable.”

We lie for a moment, the silence unsettling, but I’m not sure what to say. I hit a nerve. When he finally speaks up, I’m relieved. “I lost people in the Twin Towers. As soon as I was old enough to enlist, I marched into the recruiting office, and I never looked back.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I wanted to be the best of the best, so I worked my ass off just to get into the training for the SEALs. The group you start out with dwindles with every test of endurance. It wasn’t the physical toll that got to me. It’s the psychology. They push your body to the edge and past until your mind is screaming out to just give in. To ring the bell. And the second you do, there’s no going back. You’re done.”

“That’s an insane level of pressure. How did you cope with it?”

“I did what I’ve always done. I just kept going. It’s all I’ve got. I survive and exert as much control as possible in every area of my life.”

“Don’t you get lonely?” I think of my life over the past few years and even further back. I’ve spent years feeling alone. I do what I need to in order for Gracie to be happy and healthy. Then I found the lifestyle, and it curbed that chronic, debilitating loneliness that ate me up at night. I’ve been content with one night in my week to connect with someone and have their touch, even if it wasn’t given from a place of love. Lust is the next best thing. To feel desired.

“If you haven’t noticed, I don’t lack company at the club.”

“I’m aware, but you and I both know you’re not exactly looking for a deep relationship.”

“Is that so terrible? I have friends, and I have lovers.”

“Then why ask me to be both? You could pick any submissive at Venom, and they would drop to their knees and do anything you could possibly want.”

“Because I’ve watched you up there with Freya. You’re mesmerizing. Then, I saw you with Genevieve, and I knew I wanted to fuck you. You’re gorgeous, Celest. The way your body moves as you bring it to orgasm. God, it’s hot.”

I don’t know whether to be happy or sad. I’m a novelty—a doll to be played with then discarded. “Thanks.”

“Why do you sound pissed?”

“I’m not. What you’re hearing is resignation.”

“Spill,” he says as he draws lazy circles around my belly button.

“You didn’t bring me in here to analyze my feelings. We came to fuck and punish. Now, it’s time to leave.” As much as I’d like to stay in bed with this beautiful man, I know my limits. Getting my hopes up with Flex is a lesson in futility, and I refuse to do it to myself.

I slip out of the bed and into the bathroom, where I stand naked in front of the mirror. Punished and sated, I’m exhausted, but the tension I’ve been carrying for months has dissipated.

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