Page 4 of Own Me

“Rayne. Thanks for coming. How have you been?” She cocks her head as she waits for my answer.

“Fine. Who is it, and what do they need?”

“Quick and to the point. I like it. Her name is Shay Clarke. She’s 33, a baby girl submissive. Her previous and long-term Dom passed away last week from heart failure. She doesn't know that part though; she thinks he killed himself for some reason.”

My brow furrows, “Why does she think that? Did no one tell her what happened?”

“No. Unfortunately, his family did not agree with his lifestyle and wanted nothing to do with her. He apparently left her some money in his will, and they’re fighting it. Family, huh?” She shrugs.

“I see. So what’s the endgame here?” I ask.

“She’s been a fully cared-for submissive for 13 years. She has no one else in this world to take care of her, so our job is to make her capable of being on her own and making smart choices about her future. Do you think you can handle that?”

“Is that my only objective?”

“For the most part. Learn more about her submissiveness. Use that to gauge what her needs and wants are. Teach her how to look for another Dom that will not just take advantage of her.”

I nod. This I can do.

“One thing though,” she starts, “she tried to commit suicide after she found him last week. So we need to be mindful of her frame of mind while she is here.”

I pause. “This would have been a good thing to mention first, Tabitha,” I growl.

“I know. But if I had mentioned it earlier, would you have been so keen on coming? I remember what happened last time, but let’s work together on this one. I really think you and Shay can help each other.”

I sigh and look around the office. I’ve always felt claustrophobic here; too many things, too cluttered. I prefer a less crowded area myself.

“Yeah. That’s fine. What room is she in?”

“13B. You’ll be in the room right next to hers, 13A. Can you start today?” She sounds hopeful.

“I brought a bag for a few days. I can start today,” but I’m not feeling as hopeful or confident as she is right now.

SHAY

After my intake interview with Tabitha yesterday, I had some lunch and came back to my room. I tried to sleep, but I couldn’t. So many thoughts were running through my head all day. I couldn’t even eat dinner; I had no appetite. I’m worried about therapy, and about the next 6 weeks here.

I wish she had given me the medication I was taking at the hospital, but she said I was better off without them for now. So that I could make informed decisions when I met my trainer. Being off of the meds makes it hard to keep my anxiety at bay. I always feel like I’m on the brink of a breakdown.

Will I ever get better? Will I ever stop thinking about Arin? This morning there was a knock on the door, and someone who works here accompanied me to the dining area for breakfast. The food looked and smelled really good, but again I had no appetite. So I grabbed some cereal with milk and sat at a table by myself. I ate a few bites and walked back to my room for a nap.

It’s past lunchtime now; I don’t know what time it is, but the door in the room next to mine slams shut. Tabitha mentioned the therapist I would be working with would be staying in that room.

Is he here? What is he like? What does he look like?

I run to the bathroom to splash some cold water on my face and make sure my hair is brushed. I used to always make sure I was perfect for Arin before he got home every day. I would put on a pretty dress or outfit, do my hair and makeup, and clean my room before he came to see me.

I loved being good for him most of the time. By the time I walked out of the bathroom, there was a tall, dark-haired man in my room. He faces the window, and his back is to me. I can see all the dark ink on both of his arms. He’s tall and well built, but not dressed nicely like Arin used to.

He doesn’t say anything, but he must know I am here. The air in the room is thick, making it hard for me to breathe. I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I want to ask who he is, demand to know why he is here, and make him leave.

I shouldn’t be here. I never should have signed the consent forms.

The man sighs and finally turns around. His dark green eyes pierce into mine, but I don’t feel afraid. I see comfort in his eyes. He’s beautiful, too. Young—much younger than Arin was. His face is symmetrically sharp, and the only thing that seems off is the thin silver ring on his nose. I don’t like it. I’d prefer it if he didn’t have his nose pierced.

Arin didn’t have any piercings or tattoos, nor did I. He hated them, and I’m afraid of needles. See? Perfect match.

“Hi Shay, I’m Rayne Bauer, and I’ll be your trainer.” He takes a small step towards me and holds out his hand. I look at it before looking at his face again, but I don’t shake it. I don’t want to touch him.