Page 10 of Bound and Branded

I let out a breath, and set my phone down, going and putting my pajamas on. And I hear the chime that the app uses go off as I get a message. I race back over and look, my heart pounding.

What are you looking for?

His messages are always like that. They don’t betray a hint of personality. He often doesn’t even act like we’ve spoken before. I suppose I should be grateful. He isn’t pressuring me. Far from it. A lot of Doms probably wouldn’t have the patience for a sub waffling around in their DM’s. But I’m not really a sub.

I might be.

It seems weird to take on an identity that has to do with sex. Especially because it’s been such a nominal part of my life so far.

But it also feels so forbidden. Like something secret. Like something that’s just mine.

I’m probably attracted to this for all the wrong reasons. Though, if there are right reasons for wanting to fling yourself into the bed of a kinky stranger, I’d love to know what they are.

All I have is bone deep weariness and desperation for something that I have a hard time naming.

I’m so tired of carrying everything. I just want to not think. I want someone else to make me feel good. Even if I resist. I want control to be taken away from me.

I can do that.

I want to ask him a hundred questions. But he’s not a mentor or coach. He’s a man I’m considering…

I close the app because I’ve gone and freaked myself out. Honestly, the whole day did. Getting turned on by a pile of laundry is a new low for me.

But then, my life is a new low for me at the moment. And tomorrow, I have to get up and face it all over again. The only way things are going to change is if I change them. I could set up a meeting with The Duke.

I go to sleep turning that over and over in my mind. And when I wake up, Caleb is the first thing I think of.

Chapter Three

Caleb

It’s pretty fucked up that I have her working for me. And not the best show of restraint. But then, I’m not great with that outside of a scene.

Story of my life.

There’s a reason I love nothing more than slipping into the role of Dominant. It allows me to take my shattered focus and hone in on two of my very favorite things. Ropes and a naked woman. What’s not to like? I can play with those two things for hours.

Everything else? Not so much.

Of course, my erratic brain is the key to my success. The ability to home in on certain things, tune out others— that’s a huge part of it.

But when I get obsessed with something, it’s deep. It’s real and impossible to shake.

That’s Avery Carmichael for me.

And I fucking know better than to put her in my path.

It started when she tried to light my barn on fire. I don’t usually get into brat shit, but her fury, her absolute biting fury at me, made me want to train that right out of her. Put her on her knees and hold her down while I fucked some respected into her.

That reaction to her was so visceral, the fantasy so specific and uncontained, that I made a vow then and there I’d never go there.

I’m careful with how I treat women.

What I like is so specific, so particular, that I have to keep it contained. And I do. There’s a reason that I use the Club app to find my subs.

I've experimented with brick and mortar clubs, during times I’ve been in cities for work, but I’ve found it isn’t really my thing. It’s too personal. And I don’t like it to be personal. I much prefer getting to make the arrangements in a sterile chat setting.

She gets to look at my list of qualifications and interests, and I get to look at hers. Without actually putting a face to the kink. I find that to be clarifying.

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