Secrets & Submission
Her hair rustles against my chest as she readjusts in my lap, getting more comfortable, still staring at the fire as if it’s playing back her memories. “We are. Because of the shit we got into. Drugs, alcohol … we were given invitations that no one should ever give minors. And I didn’t have a father or mother to tell me no. I had Kamden. Who was used to getting himself and his sister out of trouble.”
“I’ve seen your record.”
“It’s a colorful résumé, isn’t it?” she sighs, not with nostalgia, but with regret. “I’m thankful for Kam and what he did for me. If it weren’t for him, I might not be this version of fucked up, but I would be a hollow shell of …” She breathes in deeply before clearing her throat. “What I mean is that, all of this, is forever mine. There’s no needing support from anyone. So if you could want this, then it’s no bother.”
“I imagine—this—comes with Kam? Kamden was there for everything?”
“Always.” Ella skims her finger over the collar of my shirt. “Ever since I can remember. Our families have known each other forever. You know Kam’s sister, Trish and I, we got along from the start. That’s the way it is in this life. There are so very few people you can trust. You tend to stick with the ones you know, and we always knew Kam’s.”
I had friends growing up, though none were wealthy and there was never a threat of trusting the wrong person. Family friends, of course. My family had those. But they came and went and came back. It was easy. Society fears were never something I concerned myself with.
“Why did you choose him to take custody of you back then? When your father died and you were sixteen.” I’m surprised by the spike of needless jealousy. I can’t go back in time to be in every part of Ella’s life, as much as I want to. And even if I could, I don’t know if I’d do it. The way Ella and I are together is only possible because of the people we are right now, and those people were shaped by the past.
She frowns, her eyes going distant. “I knew he’d do anything for me. He took care of … a lot of things. So it made sense.”
In the space of this one sentence, her tone has changed. It’s off, and her body stiffens in my arm.
“Don’t withdraw from me, jailbird. We’re in this conversation until it’s over, unless you want to use your safe word.”
Her eyebrows go up as color darkens her cheeks. “I can safe word out of a conversation?”
“You can use your safe word at any time,” I remind her. “It’s not just for when I’m fucking you, or when you’re bound. It’s for any time. Because our relationship is twenty-four seven, so is your safe word. Do you feel like you might need to use it?”
Ella considers it for a moment, like she should. I’m proud of her for not immediately saying no. Some submissives become convinced that using the safe word is a kind of weakness, and that it makes their Doms happier if they don’t use it. That’s not the case at all. I need her to know she can use her safe word at any point, because otherwise I can’t adjust my methods. It’s crucial to be comfortable with using a safe word. I’ve always thought that a reluctance to use it is a sign that the Dom hasn’t done his job. I’m going to do well by Ella. I won’t let her down.
“No. I don’t need to use it.” She takes a deep breath, steadying herself. “When he died—my father, I mean—there were a number of people in my life I didn’t trust. I knew I could trust Kam.”
“How did you know you could trust him?”
“He knew things I’d done. And he knew things about my father. He knew everything.” Ella swallows, meeting my eyes. “You can trust someone who knows all your darkest secrets. You know?”