Page 35 of Flog Me, Sir

She sliced through the water with steady strokes, the slight splashes the only noise. Like a sick stalker, I sat and stared, relaxing for the first time since leaving the estate almost two weeks earlier.

Unwanted thoughts of what day of the year it was slithered back into my brain, but I pushed against them. It wasn’t the first birthday my parents had forgotten about. It wouldn’t be the last. The fact my sister hadn’t called either told me all I needed to about her state of mind—drunk and passed out in some guy’s bed, most likely.

Both Rian and Adam had texted me earlier, congratulating me on having made it another year, but even Rian’s ribbing about a year full of women and living the high life hadn’t made me smile. Flirting and my mischievous ways had gotten me the type of female attention a man whore like myself enjoyed, but looking back and considering the past handful of scenes and subs, Lissa aside, I realized they hadn’t fulfilled me in any way whatsoever.

Mere fucks. Zero connection. Emptied balls.

I longed for so much more, but underlying fear of not being good enough, of eventual neglect and feelings of no longer mattering, snuck into my head.

Fucking childhood bullshit.

I’d fought for years to rise above those emotional wounds—even talked to a therapist once a week for over five years. While I’d come to terms with my past and offered my parents unspoken forgiveness for what they didn’t even realize they’d done to me, I still hurt. Still ached for unconditional love that a parent, of all people, ought to give.

Lissa pulled up at the opposite end of the pool as though to rest, and I turned my focus on what truly mattered—helping the woman I’d fallen for, the one I wanted to explore a future with, even if eventual heartache lay in its path.

---