Page 14 of His Dark Cravings

Everly

After that night, the harsh fluorescent lights of the bathroom illuminated the sweat clinging to my skin. I scrubbed at the marks, trying to erase the heat, but they lingered, ghosts of the flogger's touch. The events of that night still felt raw even in the morning, a strange mixture of pain and unfamiliar pleasure. I couldn't quite place the new feeling emerging within me.

Xavier didn't call for me again.

The next few days were a blur of quiet interactions and subtle observations. I spent my time trying to decipher the dynamics among the dolls, as I'd heard them referred to, learning their boundaries, their preferences. Winter, with her icy composure, always seemed to know what was going on. Sable, tempestuous and unpredictable, was a study in contradictions. And Lila, fiery and alluring, held her own quiet authority.

I started noticing the details of their routines, the way they moved, the shifts in their expressions. They were a complex puzzle, and I, strangely, found myself drawn into their world, though I was afraid they saw me as a pawn. There was a sense of solidarity emerging as I learned to navigate.

Each day, the house revealed new layers of its complexity. It was more intimidating than I’d originally thought, but I also found myself getting used to it, to the quiet of Xavier's home. It was a different world, certainly not my own, but I could inhabit it without arousing Xavier’s displeasure. It was a world I had to adapt to, one in which I was already starting to belong.

This new belonging felt oddly liberating.

This evening, I can feel it, a shift in my posture, a subtle change in my demeanor. It's as if the walls of my self-built prison are starting to crumble a little.

I step into the living room with a smile, ready to join Xavier and the others for dinner. The room is bathed in a warm glow, the soft hum of classical music playing in the background. The scent of steak and herbs wafts through the air, whetting my appetite. I'm dressed in a flowing green dress that rustles softly with each movement, hoping to present a picture of calm and serenity.

It's like I'm ready to show them I can handle this contract.

I spot Winter and Lila chatting, their laughter soft. As I approach, Sable is noticeably absent, her usual spot by the bookshelf vacant. I glance around, my mind wandering to where she might be. Since the girls haven't noticed me, I back out of the room and have a look around. My first thought is that she might be in the smaller lounge. Maybe if I politely collect her for dinner, she might soften toward me.

The lounge door is slightly ajar, some kind of repetitive sound coming from inside. My curiosity piqued, I silently push the door open. The sight before me freezes me in place. Xavier has Sable over his knee on the leather armchair, her skirt pulled up, her panties and pale skin exposed. The sound of his palm connecting with her flesh crackles in the air, and Sable's breath hitches, her hands gripping the armrest with white-knuckled intensity.

"Again," Xavier's voice is firm, a misplaced calm in it. "You need to remember the boundaries."

Another slap lands, and Sable gasps, her body jolting forward. "This is your fault," she spits through gritted teeth, her voice trembling with rage.

Xavier's hand lands again, this time harder, and Sable cries out, the sound raw and gut-wrenching. I feel a physical jolt, my stomach twisting in knots. I should leave, but my feet seem rooted, my mind and body at odds over what's unfolding.

He continues, his pace steady. Sable's resolve crumbles with each slap, her insults turning to sobs. I watch in a daze, a mix of horror and an unwelcome fascination warring inside me. By the time Xavier stops, I'm numb, my thoughts scattered and disjointed.

The punishment seems to end without a word from either of them. Sable pushes herself up, her face wet with tears, her makeup smudged. She catches sight of me in the doorway, coming to an abrupt stop. Her eyes widen in shock before narrowing into a glare. Xavier turns his head, and his eyes lock onto mine.

Sable storms out of the room, brushing past me sharply. I don't make a move. I can't just walk away. I know Xavier won't let me.

"Everly," he says, his voice low. "Come in."

I hesitate, but my legs carry me forward, as if of their own accord. He motions to the chair across from him. I sit, my hands fidgeting in my lap, my eyes avoiding his.

"You need to understand something that Sable struggles with," he begins, his voice softer now, the command in it replaced by something akin to gentleness. He runs a hand over the worn leather of the armchair where Sable had been moments before. "Everything in this house revolves around trust and discipline."

My eyes meet his as my face crumples with confusion. "Why?"

He leans forward, his elbows resting on his knees. "Because without it," he pauses. "We fall apart."

His answer feels incomplete. "But why… why this?" I gesture vaguely toward the space where Sable had been, my stomach still churning with unease. "Why use this to build trust?"

He sits back, his green eyes clouded with something I can't quite decipher. "It's not about the… methods," he says carefully, choosing his words as if each one carries weight. "It's about the willingness. The surrender. True connection, real understanding, can only happen when both parties are willing to be vulnerable. To let go."

I shake my head, still lost. "I don't understand."

A flicker of something raw, something pained, flashes across his face. "There are… things you haven't seen," he says, his voice barely above a whisper. "Things I've had to do to protect the people I care about. This," he gestures around the room, "this is how I ensure it doesn't happen again. It's how I keep them safe. And myself." He looks away, a muscle twitching in his jaw. "It's the only way I know how to… connect without losing control."

"But Sable…" I whisper. "She didn't seem… willing."

Xavier sighs, the sound heavy with weariness. He runs a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his forehead. "She will be," he says, his voice firm again. "She just needs… guidance."

"And Lila?" I ask, the question tumbling out before I can stop it. "And Winter? Were they willing?"

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