Rite of Submission - Rite 1

5: Testing the Waters

                The sharp tap-tap-tap of a finger knocking on a door jolted me out of my blank gaze into the dark. My heart immediately started racing, as a new fear settled in my gut. The tapping came again, with the sound of footsteps coming close. Pushing myself up, I struggled to remember how to sit the way Blake had shown me. On my knees, sit back on my feet... braid back, was it palms up or down on my thighs? There was a muffled conversation just outside the doors to the main hall. I couldn't make out what was being said. I could hear the soft lilt of a woman laughing and then Blake's acceptance of his dismissal when the doors opened. "Goodnight, Alpha," then the closing of doors.

I could hear heavy steps as someone walked confidently through all of the dark rooms. He passed before me, disappearing into one of the closed doors I hadn't been through yet, an adjoining bathroom. Finally, a light flipped on. The sudden brightness blinded me for a moment, so that I had to squint to see. He stood as a silhouette in the doorway, watching me as his hands worked to unbutton his shirt. If he was going to stare at me, I'd stare right back. Lifting my chin up I stared directly into his eyes, refusing to look away.

An amused smile danced across his lips as he slipped the shirt from his shoulders and tossed it on the floor in front of me. I ignored it, sitting up straighter as I held my stare. Hooking his thumbs in his pants pockets, he leaned against the door frame. I was not going to let myself be disarmed by his physical appeal; of course the devil looked good. How else was he supposed to seduce anyone? He smiled, drinking in the sight of me, his gaze making my skin crawl.

Keeping his eyes trained on me, he pushed off the door frame and worked his belt free, dropping it on the floor with his shirt. He kicked off his shoes, pushing them aside, and began working his pants free. With a wide grin, he dropped them to his ankles. Standing there stark naked. He wasn't going to intimidate me by trying to embarrass me this time! I kept my chin up, maintaining my glare as I refused to let my eyes look him over. "Spirit," he chuckled gruffly, walking into the bathroom out of my eye line, "so much spirit." I really wanted to claw his face off.

The sound of water spraying on tile was followed by a cloud of steam rolling out through the door. I suddenly felt like I was caked in grime. In the last few hours I had been man handled, wrestled to the ground, stripped down to my underwear and trussed up like BDSM Barbie. They'd scented me, violating more than just my personal space with the very intimate act, and searched me for a mark. Even now, I sat in a corner, damn near naked and chained up like a dog.

I'd give just about anything to have a hot shower where I could scrub the events of the day away and crawl into my own bed and pretend it had all been just a bad dream. As if summoned by my line of thoughts he reappeared in the doorway, water droplets trailing along the lines of each well defined and toned muscle of his body. In a few quick steps, he stood over me, with that damned smirk plastered across his face again.

My heart began to pound, until I could hear its thump-thump, thump-thump loudly in my ears, almost drowning out his voice. "Come along pet," he cooed, unhooking the chain of my collar from the wall, "let's get better acquainted." Without waiting for me to stand he walked back toward the bathroom forcing me to scramble on all fours, crawling after him to avoid being drug across the floor.

The bathroom looked like the whole thing had been carved out of black marble; the stone floor was cold and unyielding beneath my hands and knees as I continued to crawl after him. It was jet black with stark white ribbons of quartz threaded through its inky surface. The shower was enclosed by frosted glass with wolves etched into it, water still cascading down inside it. Thick steam clouded the air and the mirrored wall over the vanity and sink. He led me inside, where warm water fell over us from several shower heads. Pulling up on the chain, he forced me up onto my feet. Once upright, he hooked the chain leash to a hook in the ceiling. There we stood staring at one another for several minutes, the water washing over us. He wasn't much taller than me, maybe 6 inches, but I was considered tall for a girl.