Bound to Submit

“Do you mind...if I open it in front of you?” Leigh asked, tears brimming on her lashes.

“No, ma’am. It would be an honor.”

Sitting right beside her, Griffin radiated a quiet strength and support. He laid his hand on her thigh, and she gave him a little smile.

And then Leigh cried in earnest as she read a letter Georgia had sent, and then looked at each of the little mementos that had formed her good-byes: A wind chime made out of a beautifully woven, miniature red-and-black Afghan carpet—bells hung from the bottom on different-length beaded chains. A packet of tulip bulbs, the country’s national flower—and Leigh said they were her favorite, too. And, finally, a big folded piece of traditional Afghan cloth in red and gold and black. Little things that Leigh could hear and see and wear to remember her daughter by.

Not even Griffin’s eyes were dry.

“Thank you,” Leigh said. “This means so much to me. Thank you, Kenna.”

“I’m sorry I waited,” she said.

“I’m not.” Leigh shook her head. “If you’d come right after...I was so angry and so deep in my grief. I don’t know if I could’ve looked at these things and truly appreciated them for what they are. Pieces of Georgia. And you gave that to me.”

Hugging and crying again, Kenna held Leigh for several long minutes, and it felt so good to finally make this right.

“Will you all stay for lunch with me?” Leigh asked.

Of course they did. And Kenna was so glad. Because Leigh pulled out photo albums and shared Georgia’s life with her—the parts she’d known and so much she never had. And there were pictures of Kenna and Georgia together in her collection, snapshots that Georgia had sent home by snail mail and email, too.

“Look at you in your uniform, Kenna. Amazing,” Griffin said, looking at her with so much love in his eyes. No one really looked amazing in their combat utility uniform loaded down with all their gear, but she appreciated the sentiment all the same. More importantly, she was so glad he was there for this, because she never could’ve put into words just how incredible meeting Leigh had been.

Before they finally left, Leigh made them exchange all their contact information and promise to stay in touch. She sent Kenna away with an envelope stuffed with pictures and a heart that was so full it just might burst.

That night, lying in Griffin’s arms and surrounded by his love, Kenna slept like a baby. No anxiety, no phantom pain, and not a nightmare in sight.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN

The demonstration was about to begin, and Kenna was nervous. The good kind of nervous, the one filled with excitement and anticipation and restless energy.

Standing in a little room off the stage, what used to be the church’s altar, she and Master Griffin waited for the announcement of the demonstration to be made. And then she’d follow him out.

“You’re gonna be great,” he said, smiling at her.

She grinned. “Yes, Sir. But then why do you seem so nervous, too?” And he did. Not a lot. But it was there, in the way he kept fidgeting and peering out through the curtains. Generally, Master Griffin was pretty laid back. And this was not that.

“I’m not nervous, little one. Just excited. Because we’re going to put on a stellar demonstration, and I’m so proud to show you off,” he said, wearing nothing but a pair of worn-in black leather pants—pants that were already turning her on because of how well they hung on his ass, how much they conformed to his semi-hard cock, and the fact that he’d left the top button of the fly undone.

It was maddening.

And then it was time. The announcement echoed through the PA system and the rumble of voices indicated that there was a crowd.

“Are you ready?” he asked.

“Yes, Sir,” she said, her voice full of confidence. Because she could do this. She could make him proud. She knew she could. And serving him felt right and true to herself. For the first time in a long time, Kenna didn’t feel like a fraud anymore.

They walked out onto the raised dais to a low round of applause. Just like they’d talked about, Kenna sank gracefully to her knees facing the crowd—thighs spread, palms up, back straight, head down. She waited patiently, knowing he was preparing the ropes for her. And after she’d looked again and again at the practice picture he’d taken, she was eager to have him recreate his bondage and show it off to their little kinky corner of the world.