It had been a few days from the Initiate Night, and I was just now hearing from Ray. I opened the email from him and stared at the lengthy questionnaire and sighed. I grabbed some coffee and began pouring over the questions, answering them as thoroughly as I could.

With a sense of accomplishment, I sat back and re-read my answers to ensure I included everything that I had wanted. I was ready to hit send when another email came over from Ray.

What the hell?

He didn't even want me. Something obviously was very wrong with me. Apparently, I don't even give off a vibe that I'd be a good submissive. Or even a half ways decent one. Not even trainable.

I moped to the kitchen where Chastity and Wade were. I told them that Ray tossed me to the curb. It was probably for the best because I knew that Ray probably couldn't give me what I needed, or wanted. I'm quickly learning that my needs and wants are really fucked up.

“Did he give a reason?” Wade asked.

I shrugged and shook my head. “It was literally one line. He said that due to reasons beyond his control,” I said and looked up at Wade and Chastity.

The sympathetic look in Chastity's eyes made my eyes start to water. I stood up; wasn't going to sit here and cry in front of them. Chastity looked panicked all of a sudden, and she stood, pulling me into her arms. I broke down and leaned my head on her shoulder even though I felt stiff as a board. I wiggled out of the uncomfortable hug.

“What's wrong with me, Chas? Something is obviously wrong with me,” I sobbed.

“Honey, nothing is wrong with you.”

She tried to calm me down. Then I blurted out something that I hadn't intended on saying, but it came out.

“Could Ray tell?” I asked, hoping she'd know what I was referring to.

“Could he tell, what, Leeds?”

“That I was damaged goods—”

There was no sense in hiding that phrase. Wade obviously knew. I had heard my parents use that phrase many times when they had no I clue I was listening. A tear ran down Chastity's face, and she only shook her head.

“Leeds, come here,” Wade pulled me into a hug.

I about lost it in Wade’s embrace. I couldn't stand the sympathy hugs. I pulled out of his embrace and wiped my eyes. Despite their words, I was pretty sure Ray detected I was fucked up and “damaged.” He clearly wanted to steer clear from a girl like me.

That's fine. I had made my mind up that I was going to one of the local dungeons tonight.

I politely excused myself, and as I started to walk away, more parenting came from Chastity.

“Wait! Where are you going?” she asked.

“I'm going to go to my room and organize some stuff.” I turned to walk away and knew what the two of them were thinking. “Don't worry, I won't burn myself.”

I was fuming when I got to my room and felt sorry for my outburst. A few hours later they invited me to dinner with them, but I declined, citing that I was going to go see a movie tonight.

Once they were out of the house, I changed into my black skirt, stockings and a black tank top. I drove to one of the local clubs and asked the girl at the check-in desk which Service Tops were available tonight.

“Master Kenneth is available now, sweetheart. Will he work?”

I had been topped by Master Kenneth before. He wasn't what I'd call heavy handed, but right now I just needed to feel something. I nodded feverishly at the girl, and she buzzed me back.

I found Master Kenneth sitting in the section where the Service Tops would wait. He stood as he saw me walk towards him.

“Hi, Leda. It's been a while. I was thinking about you the other day, thinking you were probably due soon.”

I nodded, fighting my tears.

“Yes, Sir. I need it.”

He considered me for a few moments, nodded and motioned for me to follow him. We entered a darkened cell type of room, and he walked me over to a table of implements, allowing me to select. I pointed to a braided flogger, and he smiled.

“Alright. You know the drill, any injuries that I need to know about?”

“No, Sir.”

“Are we looking for penetration tonight or just the beating?”

I thought for a moment. I mostly wanted the beating.

“Um, just the beating, please, Sir.”

“Are you sure?”

I eyed the display table of all of his toys.

“If no penetration by me, perhaps you'd like a toy. Maybe this butt plug?”

“Yes, Sir. That would be fine, thank you.”

“What safe word would you like to use tonight, Leda?”

“Metal, Sir.”

Master Kenneth told me to remove my clothes and stand approximately two feet from the wall. I concentrated on a spot on the wall as I waited for him. I silently urged him to hurry. I need this badly.

“Hands against the wall, shoulder width apart. Part your legs some…good. Use your safe word if you need it, Leda.”

“Yes, Sir,” I quickly responded as he lubed my ass and push the thick toy into me.

I felt my clit begin to swell as the plug slid into place. My teeth held my bottom lip while I waited for the first blow. Almost at the same instant that I heard the falls slice through the air, I felt it.

Fuck, yes!

This is what I had need desperately and thoroughly enjoyed the beating as it continued. I could feel my body begin to relax as I neared that special place where the pain was replaced with bliss. The flogging went on and on as I teetered on edge.

The falls from the flogger no longer punished me; they caressed my skin. As I found my happy place, I came hard and moaned out.

“Beautiful, Leda,” Kenneth said in the background as my breathing returned to normal.

No sooner that the orgasmic wave faded, guilt and disgust in myself presented itself.

Master Kenneth helped me dress after he applied some aloe lotion to my back. Even though he was a Service Top, he still practiced after care. The two of us sat in the main room while I finished a bottle of water.

I thanked him for his time, and when I got to the privacy of my car, I broke down. I sobbed uncontrollably for a few minutes before I turned the car on and headed home.

* * *

Waking up from a chilling dream, I ran my hand over my tank top and found it drenched in sweat. The night light that I brought with me was plugged in and cast a warm glow throughout the room. Supposedly, causing a sense of security.

It wasn't working.

Reluctantly, I kept the main light in the room off. I didn't want Chastity or Wade to see the glow of light from my room and come in to check on me. I wasn't a teenager anymore and didn't need people checking up on me.

“Leda, relax. When you move around it only makes it hurt more. Stop crying and be still.”

“I’m trying,” I cried out of frustration.

He slapped my face, grabbed my chin, then lowered his face to mine. The heavy scent of, Old Spice, cigarettes and alcohol surrounded me as he shook my chin.

“Now be still and afterward we’ll pick out the wood for your dollhouse.”

I tried to shut off everything going on around me and concentrated on my new dollhouse. I had three dolls, and each needed their own home.

My dream world of my dolls came to a crashing halt when he began pinching my sides with his huge, dry, filthy fingers. The pinching was followed by his quiet laughter as I cried.

As I tried shaking my grandfather from my head, I spotted the box cutter sitting next to some boxes that I still needed to unpack. It had been years since I cut. The scalding showers were one thing, cutting was different though. I had stopped for a while, but the urge and opportunity were right in front of me. I closed my eyes and tried thinking of anything else, but the urge for that release right now was too strong to ignore.

Picking up the box cutter, I went to the bathroom, grabbed a washcloth and put it in the sink to dampen the sound of running water. If Chastity and Wade heard prolonged water running, they'd come check to see if everything was okay; translation, they would be checking to see if I was burning myself.

While the water began to warm, I shut and locked the bathroom door then pulled off my pajama pants. The water was hot now. I pushed the plastic part of the box cutter up until it clicked twice, exposing the blade. I pumped out the liquid soap directly onto the blade and very carefully, my thumb and index finger massaged the soap around the blade. Convinced that the blade was clean, I held it under the hot water. The bite of the water caused me to inhale a sharp breath. It excited me, and I could feel my pulse racing; I was close to the high that I wanted…that I needed.

With the clean box cutter in my hand, I cautiously dried it off. I started to get another dry washcloth but shook my head at my near slip of selecting a towel. Blood stains and stained towels lead to questions. Toilet paper or tissues are flushable and hide the evidence; never to be seen again. I grabbed the box of tissues and sat down on the cold tile of the bathroom floor.

While I cleaned the blade, I decided a cut on the inside of my thigh would do the trick. Now that I was sitting on the floor, I surveyed the area. Before I pressed the blade to my flesh, my eyes skated over all of the marks that weren't my own doing. Many were from belts or switches from my grandfather. I ran my finger over some of the scars, remembering.

I wiped the tears from my eyes with the back of my hand and squinted to concentrate on the task at hand. I selected my target; an old scar that I've carried since first grade. Pressing the blade to the end of the scar, I bit my lower lip and pushed.

“Mmph,” escaped my mouth.

Blood quickly came rushing to the surface as my pulse accelerated. I cautiously slid the box cutter down the length of the existing three-inch scar, reopening the memory of its’ initial creation.

The rush overcame me as I watched the blood run down the inside of my leg. I placed a tissue over the cut and smiled as the blood spread.

And all too quickly, it was over. The few moments of exhilarating freedom had passed, and now I needed to face the rest of the night alone, knowing that I had completely relapsed.