Page 26 of In His Name

I don’t answer. Instead, I remove my jacket, draping it carefully over the chair. Slow, deliberate movements. Control. She needs to feel it. The weight of my silence suffocates the room. I can see her working through scenarios in her mind, trying to anticipate my next move. Let her.

“You know why I’m here,” I finally say, my voice low, even.

She swallows hard. “Yes.”

“Say it.”

Her gaze drops. Submission. But not enough. “Because I tried to escape.” Her voice cracks. “Because I failed your test.”

“No.” I step closer, savoring the way she flinches. “I’m here because you still think escape is possible. You still think of yourself as separate from me. That’s the mistake I’m correctingtonight.” I grip her chin, forcing her to look at me. “You haven’t accepted your place, Hannah. You still think you belong to yourself.”

Tears gather in her eyes, but she doesn’t let them fall. That pride, that last shred of resistance, it’s still there. And tonight, I’m taking it.

“Remove your nightgown.”

A beat of hesitation. Defiance. Then, slowly, she does as told. The fabric pools at her feet, leaving her vulnerable, exposed. Beautiful. My mark is on her—tattooed, yes, but also in her posture, her silence, her fear. But I can still see it—that faint belief that she can endure. That she can survive without breaking.

I circle her slowly, drinking in the sight of what is mine. She doesn’t move, doesn’t breathe too deeply. Her body is mine. But her mind? Still locked away. That ends tonight.

“Lie down.”

She does, mechanical in her movements. Trying to protect herself by compliance. It won’t save her. I discard my shirt, my shoes. This isn’t about passion. It’s about annihilation.

I lower myself over her, feeling the tremor in her body. Her mind is already spinning, trying to calculate what will happen next. Good. She needs to feel that helplessness. That inevitability.

“You think you can keep your mind separate,” I murmur, my mouth brushing her ear. “You think you can give me your body while holding on to a part of yourself.” My hand tightens in her hair. “No more. Tonight, I take all of you.”

Her breath hitches, but she doesn’t resist. Not physically. Mentally, she’s still clinging. That changes now. I press my mouth to hers, a kiss not of desire, but of possession. Her body responds, trained through months of conditioning, but her mind still fights. I can feel it.

“Not enough,” I growl. My grip in her hair tightens, pulling her head back. “You will give me everything, Hannah. No more division. No more hiding. No more pretending you are anything but mine.”

Her breath stutters. Tears finally slip down her cheeks. She’s breaking. Good. Because after tonight, she’ll finally understand. There is no Hannah. There is only my possession. And by dawn, she will have nothing left to fight with. Nothing left to hold on to.

Only me.

"Remove your nightgown," I instruct, stepping back slightly to observe her compliance.

She hesitates, just for a moment—another small defiance, another indication that more drastic measures are required. Then, slowly, she pulls the nightgown over her head, letting it fall to the floor. She stands naked before me, vulnerable in her exposure but still maintaining that fragile dignity that both infuriates and captivates me.

I circle her slowly, examining what's mine from every angle. Her body bears my marks—the tattoos, yes, but also subtler signs of my possession. The slight weight loss that emphasizes her delicacy, her vulnerability. The paleness of skin kept primarily indoors, under my control. The way she holds herself, trained through months of conditioning to display herself to best advantage while maintaining the modesty I prefer.

"Beautiful," I murmur, completing my circuit to stand before her again. "Perfect in your submission, yet still resistant in your mind. Still harboring thoughts of escape.” I reach out, tracing the outline of my initials tattooed on her neck. "That ends tonight, Hannah. After this, you will understand—truly understand—that there is no escape, no freedom, no separate identity possible for you."

Her breath quickens, fear and anticipation mingling in her expression. I can almost see her preparing mentally, steelingherself for physical pain, for punishment focused on her body. But that's not what tonight is about.

"On the bed," I instruct, my voice soft but implacable. "On your back."

She complies, movements mechanical but graceful, positioning herself as directed. I remove my shirt, then my shoes, methodical in my disrobing. This isn't about passion, about desire—though both are present. How could they not be when I want her to the point of madness?

When I join her on the bed, her body tenses despite her efforts to appear compliant. I hover above her, supporting my weight on my arms, studying her face—the fear, yes, but also the calculation behind her eyes, the strategic submission that seeks to minimize damage, to preserve some internal space untouched by my possession.

"You think you can pretend," I say, my voice gentle despite the accusations in my words. "You think you can give me your body while keeping your mind, your self, separate and protected. That's why the punishments haven't worked, Hannah. That's why the tattoos, the isolation, the witnessed consequences haven't broken you completely. You've created a division—physical submission while maintaining mental resistance."

Her eyes widen slightly, confirmation that I've accurately assessed her strategy. Good. Understanding the nature of her resistance is crucial to dismantling it effectively.

"No more divisions," I tell her, lowering my body to hers, feeling her heart race against my chest. "No more separation between what you do and what you are. Tonight, I claim all of you."

I kiss her then, not with passion but with possession, with the absolute certainty of ownership. Her lips part beneath mine, trained to respond regardless of her mental state. I deepen the kiss, one hand tangling in her hair, gripping tightly enough tocommunicate control without causing pain that might distract from the psychological aspects of this reclaiming.

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