Page 22 of Stripping Little Seraphina
Her hand stroked down my back in slow, sure lines. “You are not alone, Sera. Not in this. Not ever. Nobody else gets to decide who you are. You do. And I see you. You can be exactly who you are. Nobody can take that away from you. Whoever you are, whatever you choose for yourself is already yours. You only have to claim it, babygirl. The reason this feels so chaotic and out of control is because you keep fighting yourself. Your instincts. Work with yourself and not against it. You’ve got to take control of yourself from whoever you’ve given your personal power to. No matter who they are, they don’t deserve it. It’s reserved for you. People can experience how great your power is, never give that away.”
“But isn’t this what the entire BDSM community is?” Maybe I didn’t understand a damn thing.
“No, babygirl. It’s an exchange of power. My greatness for yours. To trust a source who values you almost as much as you should value yourself. Cause I can’t be you. The way that I uphold you is support. I won’t do the work for you. But I’ll help however I can. It has to be you that anchors you. Your systems and beliefs. I’m just a paid actor on the set. You are capable of blossoming into this beautiful–very customized to fit yourown needs–rose. And I can’t wait to see what comes out of the ground. You’re going to be amazing, baby. So damn epic.”
Her words cracked something in me. The sobs turned messy, ugly, but she didn’t flinch. She just held on, steady as stone. I babbled, saying a bunch of stuff that I doubt she understood. Years of grief seemed to break free and my heart seemed to be crumbling. I was about to lose everything if what she said was true. EVERYTHING. And that was a very difficult concept to understand. Why couldn’t they just love me for me?
When the storm finally started to ebb, I pulled back, sniffling, my face blotchy and hot. “I’m sorry,” I whispered. “I ruined everything. Again.”
Mistress V shook her head once, firm. “No. You had a moment. And you came through it. If I’m right about the things you’re going to face, you’ll probably have more moments like this where you’ll need to use my shirt as your own personal Kleenex box.”
“Oh, god. I’m so sorry.”
“Mistress, Madame, Daddy…” she lifted my chin. “Say it.”
“Mistress… Madame… Daddy…”
She groaned when the last word slipped from my lips. “Not God.” The pad of her thumb caressed just beneath my bottom lip.
I nodded, understanding.
“We’ll weather it as it comes.”
I swallowed hard, speaking just slightly above a whisper. “You make it sound…like it’s not the end of the world.”
Her lips curved, soft and wry. “Because it isn’t. Not while I’m here to help.”
Something warm flickered in my chest, fragile but real. I believed her. If I didn’t trust Mistress V before, I did now. Not totally, but I could feel how much she meant what she said. And aside from our rocky beginning, she’d done exactly what she toldme she was going to do. If this was who she was, for the first time I was nervous about what the end of our time together was going to look like. Because if she was already getting under my skin and she’d been here a little less than a week, what was another month going to be like?
I stayed tucked against Mistress V’s chest, her hand tracing calm circles down my back until my breathing evened out again. The worst of the storm had passed, but I was left trembling, raw and stripped bare. But right here in her arms, the world felt exactly the way that it was supposed to.
Mistress V leaned back just enough to see my face, her thumb brushing away a tear I hadn’t realized was still clinging to my cheek. “Talk to me, little one,” she said gently but firmly. “What set this spiral off?”
I froze, shame tightening in my throat.
“Breathe, baby.”
I nodded and did as she demanded. When I was able to, I spoke. “It’s nothing. Just… my mom.”
“Nothing doesn’t look like this.” Her tone wasn’t harsh, but it left no room for me to wiggle away. “Tell me.” Stern, unwavering, but still I could feel the nurturing parts of her too. Daddy…
The lump in my throat thickened. I stared down at my hands, fingers knotting together. “She texted me about a boy she wants me to meet. Said he’d be ‘perfect for me’.” My voice cracked on the last words.
Mistress V’s brows knit, but she stayed quiet, letting me push forward.
“She doesn’t know me. Not the real me. She knows the version I’ve let her see—the safe one. The one who pretends to date nice men, wears cardigans, and smiles at church potlucks.” My chest ached. “But if she saw this—” I gestured weakly at myself, at the stuffed animal I was cradling between Mistress V and myself, at the colorful cup Mistress V had insisted I drink from at the tea party. “If she knew, she’d think I was disgusting. Broken. Wrong.”
“You’re none of those things.” The steel in Mistress V’s voice caught me off guard, so fierce it made my eyes snap to hers.
I shook my head, tears spilling again. “She raised me to believe there was only one way to be. And every time I even hinted at wanting something else—something different—she shot it down. She wants me married off to some safe boy so I’ll fit the mold.” My lip trembled. “But I don’t. I can’t. I want—” I broke off, choking on the words.
“What do you want, Sera?” she asked softly, like she already knew but wanted me to hear myself say it.
My throat ached. The truth clawed at me, terrifying and liberating all at once. “I want to be… seen. Like this.All of me. Not just the pieces that make sense to her. I want someone who doesn’t make me feel like a mistake. Someone like you.” The words came out automatically and I hoped she didn’t cringe away from me.
Mistress V’s gaze softened, her hand sliding up to cradle the back of my head. “Then you’re right where you need to be.”
I blinked at her, stunned. “You don’t think I’m?—”
