Ocean Of Need

25 🔥 Nightmares

8th May

I can't get my eyes open, can't move my arms. Where am I? Where the fuck am I. Has someone got me? Taken me?

'Lilah. Lilah, Baby, you're ok, you're ok.'

I can't breathe, fuck.

'Wake up. Little Pet, come on.'

My arms are working again. I manage to get them to my eyes and rub them open, I'm sitting up, gasping for breath. 'Where am I?' I pant.

'You're in the room. You're ok. You're with me, Mac.'

Mac...That means I'm in San Francisco...I'm twenty-eight years old...My name is Deborah...No, that's not right...What's my name?..What's my name now?...Lilah...Yes Lilah, that's who I am now...I'm in San Francisco so that I can be safe and Daddy is coming to get me soon...Not my Father...He doesn't know where I am, I'm safe from him...Jameson...Daddy Jameson is coming to get me.

My heart rate is slowing. It's ok. I'm safe.

'Fuck. Sorry. Nightmare,' I say, as your hand rubs circles on my back and I turn to you. 'I'll be alright in a minute.'

'Do you get those a lot?' A frown flits across your face.

'Hmm. Sometimes. Sometimes I'm awake but I can't move my body. It's like I've been kidnapped.'

'Kidnapped? What do you mean, kidnapped?' The frown morphs into concern, then edges towards fury. 'Did someone threaten you, Lilah?'

Shit, I really need to engage my brain before I say anymore. 'No. Sorry. Just a turn of phrase. It's like my nightmares are holding me hostage, that's what I meant to say.'

Relief washes over your face. Bloody hell, that was a close call, I almost told you the truth. I must make sure not to wake up with you again. It would be so easy for a secret to slip out, and much as I trust you, would you be able to resist the reward for finding me?

*

I make us coffee as you run the bath, then we bathe together. You sitting behind me, washing my hair, pouring water over my head to rinse it off. I kiss the tattoos on your fingers and you trail your fingers along the tattoo on my thigh.

For once we don't talk. I'm exhausted, the club, the cage, you being angry, the orgasm, me finding the words to tell you how I feel, the crying, the promises. I feel emptied, and at the same time full. Like maybe I'm growing into a different version of myself, but I'm not sure what it is yet.

You wash every part of me with soap and a flannel. Turning me back into your pet. Giving me a break from having to think, or work, or even function for myself. Then you stand up with me in your arms and step out of the bath, standing me back on my feet. Drying every part of me with one of the large fluffy bath towels Freya kitted the bathroom out with.

You wear a bath towel around your waist and I make the most of your partial nakedness by staring at your torso.

You remove my towel from my body, and dropping it to the floor, you turn me around. Running your hands over me, turning it, little by little. Inspecting every inch of me. Dropping to your knees, you check over my calves, my ankles, even my feet.

'What are you looking for Mac?'

'Marks,' you say quietly.

'Marks?'

'I'm making sure no one else has put their mark on my property.'

'Your property?' My voice is incredulous.

Without looking at me you say, 'What do you think it means to belong to me, Little Pet?'

'Belong to you? I thought that was just what we said when we play...' Before I can say more the scorch of your eyes are on me, cutting me to the core.

'You are mine, and I don't share my toys. Not with anyone.'

Holy fuck. Part of me wants to kick you in the face, the rest of me is melting at your words. But, still, this can't be right, can it? To be a man's property. That's not who I am. 'I'm not your property Mac. I belong to me,' I bite back.

'Sure you do pet,' you say as you lift up my ankle and turn it slightly, inspecting every angle. 'But we both know, that really, you are mine. Why else would you let me collar you?'

'But I thought...'

You look up at me, and the look silences me. 'You thought?' You cock your head to the side, 'You thought that this was all a game?'

I nod.

'This is not a game, Pet. You put the collar on. That made it official. You belong to me now. I don't play games with that. This is who I am. And we both know, don't we? That this is who you are too.'

Is this who I am? It's who I am when I'm with you. It's who I am when we play. But now it seems it's more than play.

Because I fall apart when you're not here. I ache for you so intensely that I barely function without you. Does that mean that I belong to you?