Page 30 of Shameful Needs
“You look like you’ve had quite a morning,” Joann observed, her dark eyes studying my flushed face with knowing sympathy.
I couldn’t meet her gaze. The memory of what I’d just done in the shower, the way I’d knelt before Master Paul, made my cheeks burn with fresh shame. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I whispered.
“That’s fair,” Elizabeth said gently, passing me a plate. “We’ve all been there.”
As we ate our lunch—shrimp salad with fresh vegetables—the conversation gradually turned to the program itself. I finally had the opportunity to satisfy some of my curiosity.
“How long have you all been here?” I asked.
“This is my third day,” Elizabeth replied. “I go home this evening!”
My heart leaped. “This evening? So the program is only three days?”
Elizabeth shook her head, casting a sympathetic look at Lisa. “Usually, yes. But some of us…”
With a sour look, Lisa finished the thought.
“Some of us have earned extended stays.”
“Extended how?” I asked, though I dreaded the answer.
“I’ve been here six days,” Lisa said matter-of-factly. “I kept fighting them at first, kept trying to maintain my dignity. Every time I disobeyed or lied, they added another day.”
Joann snorted. “I’m on day five myself. Apparently telling Master James exactly where he could shove his paddle wasn’t considered ‘ladylike behavior.’”
“What happens when you go home?” I pressed. “Are things… different?”
Elizabeth’s cheeks colored slightly. “Thomas came yesterday to watch me get trained. He says he’s learned a lot from observing how the trainers work with me. He’s… more confident now. More decisive about what he wants from me.”
“And you’re okay with that?” I couldn’t hide the desperation in my voice. The thought that Ryan might actually come to the facility to watch… I didn’t even want to consider it.
“I think so,” she said softly. “I mean, it’s scary, but also… relieving? I don’t have to pretend anymore. He knows what I need, and he’s not afraid to give it to me.”
Lisa nodded emphatically. “That’s exactly it. David was so careful with me before, so worried about hurting my feelings orpushing too hard. But now he understands that being gentle was actually hurting our marriage.”
I thought about Ryan, about his hesitant touches and apologies—and how I’d made it worse with my talk of my bottom being off limits. Warmth crept into my cheeks, and I looked down at my plate.
After lunch, while I sat in my room with butterflies in my tummy as I wondered what my first real training would be like, Master Paul entered with a slim box in his hands. My heart began to race as he set the box on my desk and turned to face me. The way he looked at me—calm, assessing, completely in control—made my stomach flutter with a mixture of fear and unwanted anticipation.
“This is for you,” he said simply, opening the lid to reveal delicate red lace nestled in tissue paper. “Put it on.”
I stared at the contents, my breath catching in my throat. It was lingerie—real lingerie, not the simple cotton undergarments I’d always worn. The bra was barely there, all sheer lace and satin ribbon, designed to reveal rather than conceal. The matching panties were equally scandalous, a lacy thong that would hide nothing.
“I… I’ve never worn anything like this,” I whispered, my hands trembling as I lifted the delicate fabric. The material felt foreign against my fingers—expensive, sensual, meant for a different kind of woman than I’d ever allowed myself to be. Chad had never given me anything of the sort, or shown the slightest interest in me wearing anything sexy; he had just told me to take off my clothes when he decided to use me, or to show me off to his friends—then kept me naked as long as he felt like it.
“I thought that was probably the case,” Master Paul replied. “Your husband deserves to see you in proper feminine attire for the bedroom, when he chooses to exercise his marital privileges and enjoy you. This lingerie will help you understand thepunishment you’re about to receive as an important moment for you.”
Punishment. The word sent a chill through me even as my body responded with unwelcome need. “What kind of punishment?”
His brown eyes studied my face with an assessing gaze. “You’re going to fully reveal your sexual history, Heather. Everything you’ve been hiding from Ryan. Every lie, every deception, every shameful secret you’ve kept locked away. Then you’re going to be punished for your dishonesty.”
My blood turned to ice. “No,” I said, shaking my head frantically. “I won’t do it. I can’t tell anyone about…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence.
“About your dominant boyfriend?” Master Paul supplied quietly.
The words hit me like a punch.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I lied desperately, but my voice cracked on the words.
