Adjustment of Attitude

Part 14

"Let me make it clear, we are doing everything here out of our deep love for you. Wrapped in this is our want to see to your well-being and ultimate happiness. This means at times we must adjust our world when those needs are not something which can be met with a soft, deft hand. Rather, there are times when an iron fist must be applied. Much like there are times when fire can only be met with fire for the best results." Garrett's word both calm me and set me on edge. The contrary emotions irritate and frustrate while providing the edge of solace. "This process challenges our household in unexpected ways. Each of us faces a different place within ourselves and our perspectives of each other. While you may have felt our focus, and been the central catalyst, you are not the only one experiencing these changes."

Silence enfolds the room in her deep embrace. Even our collective breaths seem to hold. No measure of time clicks in the air and I wait, humbled before the two most important people in my world. I do not know the next move or the path from here.

"Kneel up, Tess." Garrett's says in a calm measured voice.

I pull my arms down by my shoulder, find my base balance and push up from the floor to allow my body to settle back on my heels.

"On your arms and legs are electric bands. They are connected to the tens style box on the table beside you and triggered by the remote in my hand. Each set of electrodes will pulsate through your muscles. These can range from soft to intensely painful. Throughout this trial, you will be asked questions. For each truthful answer there will be no increase in intensity though every answer will be met an electric impulse. Any answer we believe are lies, by either falsehood, omission or silence, will increase the intensity by one notch. In addition, it will add one thing to your burden. Are you clear on these points?"

"Yes, Sir." I reply, working to keep my voice calm and even.

A gentle pulse of electricity lights through the bands, neither fully pleasant nor unpleasant, noting the answer is accepted.

"Let's begin shall we?" Garrett looks over at Evan. "The first question is yours."

For a long moment Evan watches me, his face moves from of pain to superiority and I brace myself.

"How can you call yourself a dominant, when you kneel below me in this sad disheveled state and still expect me to show you respect?" A smile plays on Evan's lips but it doesn't last long when he glances up to see Garrett's glare.

I square my shoulders and straighten my posture.

"In truth, I am a switch who is dominant leaning. Just as your chosen position of only a submissive does not lower your status, as a person, in my eyes, my ability to kneel before you should take nothing away from my position in yours. Rather, I hope it would raises your respect for me by my ability to both wield power and humble myself, when necessary." 

The electric impulses in the bands once again gently pulse electricity through them, acknowledging the satisfaction in my answer.

"Follow up question," Evan starts before Garrett can ask the next question. "Do you find your submissive side a weakness?"

"No." I drop my eyes away from the scrutiny I know will follow.

In response, the bands on my body light with a higher intensity and I know I've earned more than one notch of the dial.

"That was two lies with one word. I'm almost impressed." Garrett confirms my suspicions. "The weight of your lies, to self and our household, is heavy and one we must all bear. Place your hands forward."

Both my arms outstretch in response. Beside him, Evan rises, retrieves two unmarked cans and places one in each hand and returns to his position beside Garrett.

"Shall we try that question again?" Garrett says, raising an eyebrow. "Why do you find your submissive side a weakness?"

I stay silent, letting the question wash over me. A quick zap to the bands reminds me to focus. In front of me, my arms notice the weight of the cans and I know fatigue will set in soon.

"Women are supposed to be submissive, according to society. I think it's because others fear a balance of power and can't admit that there's often a naturally occurring dynamic between people based on connection, not gender. Ultimately, none of that matters. Power only speaks to power. When I'm not in a position of power, the world seems to sees me a smaller, less capable in a way that my voice and needs don't matter." My voice starts out strong but the longer I let the words tumble forth, the quieter they become. In the end, the words are but a breathed whisper.

"If this is true, then you see Evan as less since he is both male and submissive, thus you believe his needs do not matter?" Garrett asks, a curiosity ringing in his tone.

"Quite the opposite." I answer Garret but my eyes turn toward the other man. "Evan, you are beautiful in your submission. The strength it takes to hold harsh positions, meet the needs of those around you and protect while seeming to be fully open- is awe inspiring."

The pulse through the bands pushes my already tiring muscles. It was then that I noticed my earlier answer did not receive the same attention but the intensity also did not increase.

"Thus, you believe you are somehow less than Evan when you submit, because you are a woman?" Garrett pushes.

"Yes. No. I don't know." The words are a jumbled mess in my brain. "I don't do it as well as he does and I fear that seeing me as a submissive will make him think I am less of a dominant and erode that part of our relationship over time." The words sound incoherent. Fear races through me. While my submissive side drives almost as many needs as my dominant side, I've always struggled to find balance in confidence and personal power from my own knees. So many times I've watched Evan submit and service, with an internal sense of longing mixed with dominant pride. Here I sit before theses two wonderful men. Still I cannot reconcile my switch based wants and desires.

I stare at the end of the mat, refusing to look at either man. Like a game of peek-a-boo, if I don't look up then I can't see the disappointment of the truth in their eyes and it won't confirm my worst nightmares. My arms shake with effort and the muscles burn. The notched up intensity of the electricity through my arms pushes the muscles over the edge. Cans crash to the ground and I try to brace against the pain.

"You're still holding back Tess," Garrett states simply.

"It is a legitimate worry, Mistress." Evan's voice is smaller than I'd ever heard it. "When I first saw you at breakfast and put in a position to hand feed you, I couldn't comprehend why any of it was hard for you. I was mad. Hurt. Offended that you wanted to,"play" at something I take seriously. Something which is a deep part of me and a place I take pride in being able to sit in this household. Jealousy raced through me in what I viewed as a Domiant tantrum to be "forced" to submit for a different type of play. Everything in me wanted to scream at you for daring to insult it by making beneath you?"

"I understand. Neither my dominant position nor my submissive are done well. I do neither justice. I am worthy. I sorry for everything."

Those words earn an unprecedented intensity of electricity. In response, muscles in both bicep and thigh contract hard and release in time with the pulses. I have no control over it. The immense pain pushes continue far longer than any of the ones before. I struggle to endure but the torture doesn't let up.

"Mercy." The word croaks from my throat.

As soon as the impules stop, my ability to kneel upright and when it stops, I fall forward in a pant.

"I will not tolerate self-deprecation. It is one thing to openly express emotions, needs, desires and opinions. I will not tolerate comparisons in this manner."

"Yes, Sir." I say weakly.

Beside Garrett, I hear Evan respond the same.