Chapter 45

It was most of an hour before Valerie was able to speak coherently. She was huddled under a blanket— an expensive one, presumably, but itchy wool against her bare skin. She barely noticed.

Ultimately, Dana had not gagged or blindfolded her. Valerie did not know whether from pity, or because whatever Dana had seen in her eyes at the last had simply ruined the moment. Dana had unlocked the restraints, unlaced the armbinder, corset, and boots, and simply cut the catsuit off of Valerie’s body rather than wrestle her out of it.

“You haven’t been yourself all day. What’s going on?”

Dana’s voice was soft; not precisely kind but something close to it. She had waited quietly, with a sort of grim contemplation, while Valerie’s breathing settled into a more normal tempo.

Valerie was silent for a few moments. She did not know where to start; did not know how to render her dread into words in a way that would make sense to another person. Dana simply looked at her, expecting an answer.

“I… I was scared, when you didn’t come home.”

She could not bear to look at Dana as she spoke; she fidgeted nervously with a loose thread along the hem of the blanket, and stared fixedly at her hands as she did so. The explanation felt woefully inadequate.

“Scared of what? You’re safe here.”

Valerie nodded passive acceptance of the assertion.

“I know… But if you were hurt… if you never came back… I can’t even call or text anyone. All I could think about was you bleeding out in a car wreck, and then…” She trailed off.

“Okay, well… I’m fine?”

“You didn’t even—” Valerie stopped herself mid-sentence, and slowly drew in and released a breath. “I was scared and… and angry, and frustrated, and you—”

She stopped herself, trying to remember some of what she had learned with her therapist, fragmented lessons in communication. It had all seemed so simple when Kim had explained it.

“I felt like…” She paused again, very briefly. “I felt lied to.”

At the corner of her vision, Valerie could see Dana’s gaze flick away from her, a flash of guilt. She ignored it.

“And then you were cold,” Valerie continued, when Dana did not reply, “and distant, and… mean. You seemed so angry at me.”

She glanced up, not meeting Dana’s eyes, but a brief look to gauge the woman’s mood. Dana seemed uncomfortable, but not agitated. Simply remembering the feeling of Dana’s anger directed at her— real or imagined— set her heart racing.

“I… shouldn’t have said what I said. I was just…” Valerie chewed on her lower lip, not sure how to adequately characterize her state; how to explain what she just was.

Dana nodded, but didn’t speak. She seemed inclined to give Valerie the chance to say everything she felt she needed to say. Or to give me enough rope to hang myself with, Valerie supposed.

“I couldn’t stop thinking about Heather.” She pulled the blanket tighter around herself. “I’d say something wrong, and even if I apologized, she’d get quiet, and angry, and then mean… and there was nowhere I could go. Leaving only made things worse. I tried.”

She tried to focus on her breathing; slow, deep breaths. It still hurt to talk about those times.

“She only ever used words, really, you know, but … she knew where to put the knife. I know it was only words, but I…”

She couldn’t figure out how to tell Dana what it felt like to worry that every action, every word, would be the innocent step that catches on a tripwire.

“I’m not Heather,” Dana replied, quietly.

Valerie could feel the tears starting to threaten again. She clenched her jaw and forced them back.

“I… Yeah.” She was quiet for another moment. “I don’t know. I’m sorry I ruined your… the scene. I… I tried to be good. I don’t know what to do. I don’t know what to do and I’m scared all the time and I try and everything just keeps getting…”

She trailed off into silence, struggling to keep her breathing even.

“Has therapy… been helping?”

It seemed a loaded question to Valerie. She looked down at her hands, twisted in the hem of the blanket. She started at them for what felt like too long, her fingers folding and unfolding a tiny section of fabric.

“Helping,” Valerie whispered, her tone like grim wonderment that such a thing as help much be possible for her. “I think I’m… worse. Not better.” She sighed. “I was doing a good job of… not thinking about things. Mostly. I can’t really remember how I did that.”

“You haven’t seemed very happy, lately.”

“At first I thought this was… a dream. A blessing. A perverted miracle. You rescued me.”

“At first?”

Valerie winced, her eyes flicking up toward Dana.

“I…” she stumbled over her words. “It’s… I mean… I’m still so grateful. I just… don’t know how much longer I can… play the role. Be the good toy.”

The next morning, Valerie awoke still feeling small, awkward, and tense. Dana remained distant, although she was at least cordial. The anger that Valerie had seen was gone, replaced with something that seemed more vulnerable— uncertainty, and disconcert. Valerie thought she was more lost in thought than seething.

In quiet moments that morning, she worried about what Dana might do if she grew more disobedient. Although the contract safeguarded her from injury, it was silent on the subject of physical and emotional pain. Valerie knew that Dana had a wide selection of tools she could employ to those ends— and she worried that Dana would enjoy that dynamic more than her earlier, eager submission. It sounded like an even worse state.

Valerie wished she knew a way to return to their earlier dynamic, and the novelty, joy, and thrill she had felt. Uncooperatively, her positive feelings about Dana were being replaced with wariness, if not fear.

She worked quietly at the espresso machine, pulling shots and steaming oat milk for drinks for each of them. Dana slid onto one of the bar stools on the other side of the kitchen island, watching Valerie work in silence.

“Thank you,” Dana murmured, as Valerie slid the small ceramic mug across the counter toward her.

Valerie dipped her head in acknowledgment; Dana had instructed her to make coffee; it was not precisely a gesture of warmth, but she was still careful to do everything as well and correctly as she knew how.

“Not half bad,” Dana noted, after taking a sip.

Valerie’s own coffee cooled while she finished cleaning. Eventually she stood awkward across the island from Dana, cupping her own lukewarm mug in both hands like a protective talisman. She was unsure what to say— but simply walking away, like she wished she could, would have been its own statement.

“Lucca asked for your help with the new project we’re launching,” Dana told her, after a few moments of savoring the coffee.

Valerie blinked in surprise, if only at the idea that Lucca had thought of her after their long absence.

“My help? With what?”

Dana shrugged.

“I don’t know, but whatever you talked about when they were here must have impressed them. They have high standards.”

Too many weeks and months of being verbally beaten down by her manager had left her confidence in her own abilities much more shaken than she knew. The compliment felt ill-fitting and undeserved.

“I… uhm. I helped with some questions they had, but it was just an hour or two.” Valerie was blushing crimson.

“I wasn’t sure if I was going to say ‘yes’ or not, but I think you could use a little time to reset.” Dana sipped her coffee again, her expression and tone studiously neutral.

“Okay,” Valerie replied simply, with a small nod and furrowed eyebrows. “How would this work?”

Dana raised one eyebrow slightly as Valerie spoke, her expression odd.

“If I decide you’re going to help, I’ll ship you off to their place in Nevada for a few weeks.”

Valerie swallowed nervously, and said nothing in reply. She thought of the proposal as an offer, but she realized that Dana could just as easily order her to do tech work as to bind herself in latex and leather.

“I have some client visits I need to make overseas, anyway, so it would be convenient for both of us.”

She doesn’t want me around after last night, Valerie realized, with a sick feeling. For all that she had been searching for some way out of her latest situation, being sent away like that felt tantamount to rejection. Her chest felt tight and the urge to flee was growing stronger.

“Yes, mistress,” she replied, and worried that the confusion of emotions she felt was leaking into her voice.

Dana already seemed to think her unstable; the last thing she wanted to do was add more fuel to that fire.

“It will take a couple days to arrange transport for you. I’d say you should pack a bag, but…” Dana shrugged, trailing off with a small, wry smile.

But I don’t have anything, Valerie finished the statement silently. She could see the joke in the statement, but she did not feel the humor in it.

Dana disappeared with her remaining coffee into her office, and Valerie finished cleaning up. She thought about breakfast, but she already felt nauseous and was not sure she would be able to finish her own coffee, much less food, as well.

She considered the implications of spending a few weeks with Lucca, in their home. The few days in Lucca’s care had been intense, and she worried about her ability to survive weeks.

Valerie also no longer knew what to think about Lucca’s absence. The fact remained that they had not made any effort to communicate with her in weeks, but their request to Dana complicated the story, and her emotions were reeling from the new information.

From certain angles, the request for help seemed like it could be a gesture of kindness— one of Valerie’s biggest frustrations on a day to day basis remained simple boredom, and getting to work on something actually technical was an appealing alternative.

On the other hand, she wondered about how exacting Lucca might be. She supposed it could be better than working for a manager that seemed to simply hate her; but she was not convinced that a literal whipping delivered with fondness seemed a better option than verbal humiliation delivered in team meetings.

She did not know how to feel about it; she wondered if Dana was telling the truth, or simply making up an excuse to send her away.

She tried to tell herself that it was pointless to worry herself in circles— Dana was clear that Valerie did not have a choice in the matter, so she was only borrowing trouble from the future, to echo her therapist’s favorite saying.

She was not very successful.