Page 63 of Release Me

“Okay…” she cries. “Okay… I’ll talk. I c—can’t take any—anymore.”

I wipe my tears from my cheeks before I walk to the front of the bench. Crossing my arms and keeping my face even, I wait for her to speak. She’s still struggling to quiet her cries, but she’s able to talk a little better now.

“I… I fucked someone last night. In the bathroom.”

No.

“You mean you were attacked?”

“No. I was angry.”

“I don’t believe you.”

Really? Do you not remember who you’re dealing with?

“Victoria told me you called her last week to let her know it wasn’t working out between us, and you wanted her back as your Domme. Then, I saw you kissing her. I freaked out, panicked, and I pulled a random guy into the bathroom with me.”

She’s about to say something else, but I don’t want to hear anymore.

“Enough,” I cut her off.

“Richard, I—"

She starts talking again, and I strike her one last time with the paddle before chucking it across the room. It hits the wall with a crash, breaking through the drywall before it falls to the ground. I need to keep it together. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. I let it out as I unfasten the restraints around her ankles. Then her wrists. She tries to stand, but is barely able to between her emotions as well as her thoroughly punished backside.

I don’t look at her when she turns to face me. I just point to the door hiding the spiral staircase which leads to her room.

“Get out of my sight, Brynn.”

Another sob breaks free from her chest.

“Richard, please let me ex—”

“I said get the fuck out of here,” I scream at her like a feral animal about to lunge, and I damn near feel like I could.

She runs toward the door as quickly as she can in her state, which isn’t very fast. I’ve never been so angry before in my entire life.

But it’s not anger chiseling deep cracks in my heart right now.

It’s grief.

ChapterTwenty-Five

BRYNN

I don’t understandwhat it is I’m feeling.

Yes, there is the intense pain causing my ass to burn hotter than anything I’ve ever felt before. But the pain in my chest is even worse than that.

Where did it come from? Crying too hard? Wrestling with Richard as he overpowered me in his bedroom? The weight of him as his body crushed me against the spanking bench?

No. The result of any of those options wouldn’t cause pain as severe as this.

I don’t know if I’m angrier with myself for what I did, or with Richard for sending me away. I would have gladly taken another punishment from him, if only it meant he could still stand to be in the same room as me. The disgusted look in his eyes is a sight I won’t soon forget. It will haunt me forever.

When I make it back up to my room, I run a bath and add some of the healing oils Richard gave me to use after some of the more painful playtimes we’ve had. They’ve helped in the past, but something tells me there isn’t anything in the world that will ease the burning pain Richard inflicted.

When the tub is full, I struggle to lift my legs over the side. Any movement affecting my backside irritates the searing pain. I finally make it in, but am unable to enjoy it as it’s physically impossible for me to sit down.

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