Page 331 of Ashes of Sin and Stardust

I turned and rocked my hips as I went down the hall to the playroom. I could feel his eyes on me as I descended.

Downstairs, I turned up the lights so I could see better. Searching through the drawers and the cabinets that lined one whole wall of the dungeon, I looked for something fun to use. He did this sometimes, asking me to pick toys. Sometimes he used them, sometimes he didn’t. But it always got me extra excited.

I laid out the studded flogger that Simon had gifted me since we hadn’t gotten to that yet. I also set out a fairly large paddle with holes in it, knowing the holes would let it move faster through the air. I was getting wet just thinking about it. And I opened the drawer at the very end, knowing he had some knives in there. Maybe I’d be lucky enough to experience that with him. We’d discussed some knife scenes several times in the past few weeks, and I knew it was on his mind.

Pulling the drawer out, I extracted the box of his sharps and set those next to the other toys, giddy with excitement and a little nervous. As I went back to the drawer to close it, I saw some stuff shoved near the back of the drawer.

I pulled them forward. There was a black silk drawstring bag the size of a purse, and a medium-sized black box the size of a book.

What does he have hidden down here behind the knives?

From the bag, I extracted a coiled leather whip. The handle was a beautiful glossy red wood with beautiful braided leather emerging from one end. It was long, with a few leather bits hanging off the end that looked like they were sharp enough to cut skin.

Holding it in my hands, feeling the weight of the thing, I tried to imagine what it would be like to let him use this on me. Annette had shivered just earlier today remembering Reuben using a whip.

He smiles while he paints.

The last time I’d been whipped, I’d been cuffed by my wrists to chains hanging from the ceiling, raped repeatedly from behind by Woodrow and his friends while I suffered the strike of the whip on my tits and thighs.

I felt the numbness sneaking up on me, like my brain was forcing my body to shut down.

“No,” I said out loud. “I’m okay. I’m safe. I... I belong to Reuben Weston.”

I curled the whip back up and put it back in the bag, setting it on the counter for now. I would talk to Reuben about whips after today’s scene. Maybe we could try them in a way that wasn’t so scary, and I could get over my fear.

Still curious about the rest of his secret contents, I extracted the black box, and opened it up. I nearly dropped the box when I saw what it contained.

So many thoughts and feelings assaulted me as I stared down at the most elegant, sexy, shockingly gorgeous collar I’d ever seen. It was glossy and black, with purple accents. A thick brushed silver buckle secured it closed and joined to a chain that looped from one end to another, secured down to the body of the collar with strips of purple leather. On the front, a second piece of leather was secured to the body, with letters embossed in.

Property of Reuben Weston

My eyes blurred as I stared at it, and I hiccupped, rubbing away the tears that were flooding the soft crush velvet of the box. I couldn’t even touch it because it felt... sacred.

It was hands-down the most beautiful collar I’d ever seen... And it was absolutely meant for me. It matched the cuffs and the chastity belt I wore almost daily. Hadn’t he specifically said earlier today that the chain he’d given mewasn’this permanent collar?

Because his collar was downstairs in a box in the back of the dungeon, hidden under the whips that I’d put a hard limit on.

I couldn’t tell if I was hurt or thrilled. Maybe I was both. I wanted this beautiful piece around my neck. I wanted myself marked with his name. But I also couldn’t even look at it without remembering the choking and the dizziness that came with that metal collar that Woodrow had put on me. I didn’t want to think about Woodrow when I was owned by Reuben. I didn’t want to be afraid of it. I wanted to be free of that shit.

I rubbed my eyes with the back of my hand and continued staring down at the beautiful piece. I wanted to brush my fingers across it, feel the strength and the texture of the leather, feel the cold hard strength of the steel, feel the weight of it in my hands. But it felt wrong somehow. This wasn’t mine. It was his. And he hadn’t given it to me. He had, in fact, chosennotto give it to me.

I think that was the part that hurt the worst. He hadn’t given this to me, he’d given me something else instead. And I wasn’t surewhythat upset me so much. He’d given me the belt and the cuffs to go with it... but not this.

I didn’t notice he was downstairs until his hands wrapped around the box, removing it from my grip. I couldn’t look at him as he closed the box, set it back in the drawer, and slid it shut.

The burning was back. The overfilled burning of my body, the sensation that I had to scream because my mouth was full of fire and smoke.God, make this stop.

Reuben lifted me by the waist and set me on the counter, putting his arms on either side of my hips to trap me. I covered my face with my hands and cried, trying to breathe and steady myself. Eventually, he pulled my hands from my face and held my head steady, forcing me to look at him.

“You weren’t meant to see that.”

“I know,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “I’m sorry. I just... I saw the bag, and... I was curious and...”

He watched the tears roll down my cheeks.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, little bug. Not at all. You were taking a long time. I checked the camera and saw you standing here crying, and I got worried.” He thumbed away the last of my tears.

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