The Auction

Taboo

Atlas's POV:

My sweet Mistress, so fragile sometimes. I'm not used to seeing dominants like this, vulnerable.

She did not cry now, but I can see the unshed tears in her eyes.

Something about how she reacted, the anxiety, the uncertainty, the fear, it wasn't a turn off for me, but a moment where me and her bonded.

I understood all those feelings, I could relate.

It didn't matter to me that she was a dominant and had a moment. She, just like me, is human. Just because she is a dominant doesn't mean she isn't capable of feeling the same emotions as me.

I've never seen a dominant cry before, my mother never did and never had I seen teachers at the academy or elsewhere have a moment of weakness.

Perhaps my mistress has allowed me to see the cracks in her armor because she trusts me, she knows I will take care of her, seek to make it better.

Mistress strokes my neck, feeling my pulse every so often. It's somewhat intimidating when she does that, but I think she does it as a comfort to herself more than a threat to me.

I continue to stroke her back, resting my eyes as we relax together.

"Atlas?"

"Yes, Mistress?"

"What were you reading?"

"Earlier?" She hums. "Just a book on medicine and such. You wouldn't find it interesting, Mistress."

She hums, a sly smile on her lips.

"You scare me when you smile like that, Mistress. Did I say something wrong? I didn't mean it as an insult."

Her smile only widens, "I just find it fascinating that you think I wouldn't find it of interest."

"It's just a book for class, medical stuff, that's all, Mistress."

Her mischief filled eyes flicker to mine. "You're usually very intelligent, Slave. I thought you'd figure out my area of study by now."

My brows furrow and I sit up, looking around for anything that might give me a clue.

Oh Lord, please have mercy. Please don't let her be a doctor. I'm going to be so screwed if she is. She's going to think I was talking down to her when I really wasn't.

People who aren't studying medicine don't usually care to hear about it. I thought I was being considerate by not boring her with the details of my study.

Mistress giggles beside me, stretching out as she watches me in amusement. A familiar book sits on her desk and I palm my face, feeling so terribly stupid.

"You're in med school, Mistress."

"Yes I am, Slave."

"I didn't know. I didn't want to bore you—"

She breaks into a joyous laughter, seeming to be enjoying herself at my expense.

I don't even try to explain anymore, too mortified. I don't know how I should have known what she was studying, but I feel like I should have.

"What's your specialty, Mistress? Please do not say Urology"

"You don't want me knowing my way around a prostate?" I flush deeply, not having expected that come back. I can't tell if she is joking or not, I truly hope she is.

Knowing her way around my prostate is much different than her knowing her way around other men's.

"Gynecology is a really great specialty. You're still young in school, Mistress. It's never too late to change."