Total pages in book: 70
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 64452 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 322(@200wpm)___ 258(@250wpm)___ 215(@300wpm)
Chad’s face flashed through my mind—his cruel smile, the way he’d looked at me like I was nothing more than a collection of holes for his pleasure. My body’s traitorous response to the memory made me squeeze my thighs together.
“I can see from your expression that I’m getting warmer,” Mrs. Chen said. “The intake counselor noted elements in your data that might indicate a search to reawaken previous sexual responses.”
“That’s over,” I said quickly. “That’s in the past. I’m married now. I’m different.”
“Are you?” She tilted her head. “Because from where I’m sitting, it looks like you’re a young woman who’s been trying very hard to be someone she’s not. Someone who’s been denying herself what she truly needs. We don’t have the kind of data from your life before you enrolled in the New Modesty that we’d really like to have, but our assessors’ guesses tend to be on target. At the very least, I think I can assure you that whatever it was, it’s very definitely not merely in your past. It’s still very much part of your life.”
The van turned onto a highway, the industrial landscape streaming past in a blur of gray concrete and chain-link fencing. My heart hammered against my ribs as Mrs. Chen’s words sank in. She knew. Somehow, she knew about Chad, about the things he’d done to me, about how my body had responded to his rough treatment.
“I don’t know what you think you know about me,” I said, my voice barely steady, “but you’re wrong. I love my husband. I want to be a good wife.”
“I’m sure you do,” Mrs. Chen replied, making another note. “But wanting to be good and needing to be controlled are not mutually exclusive. In fact, in our experience, they often go hand in hand. The women who benefit most from our programs are exactly like you—intelligent, strong-willed, desperately trying to be perfect while fighting against their own nature.”
“My nature?” I laughed bitterly. “You don’t know anything about my nature.”
“Don’t I?” She consulted her tablet again. “Let me tell you what I see. A nineteen-year-old woman who married quickly after a period of sexual experimentation she now views as shameful. A young woman who avoids intimacy with her husband because she’s afraid of what she might reveal about herself. A young woman who lies compulsively to avoid consequences, then punishes herself through reckless behavior when the guilt becomes too much.”
Each word felt like a thrown stone. I wanted to argue, to deny everything, but the accuracy of her assessment left me speechless.
“Most telling of all,” Mrs. Chen continued, “a woman whose body responds with arousal to discipline, even as her mind rejects it. Ryan showed remarkable intuition when he spanked you today. Your physical response was quite dramatic, wasn’t it?”
“Stop,” I whispered, tears pricking at my eyes. “Please just stop.”
“Everything will be much easier if you’re honest with yourself, Heather. And with your trainers.”
The word hit me like ice water. “Trainers? You keep saying that word. What kind of training are you talking about?”
Mrs. Chen smiled, and for the first time, there was something almost maternal in her expression. “The kind that will help you stop running from who you really are. The kind that will teach you to embrace your submissive nature instead of fighting it. The kind that will make you the wife Ryan needs you to be.”
“I don’t have a submissive nature,” I said desperately. “I’m not like that. I’m not—”
“Heather.” Mrs. Chen’s voice was gentle but firm. “Did you ask to be here?”
The question was so unexpected that I answered it automatically. “What? No, of course not. I don’t want to be here.”
“And yet here you are, in restraints, being taken to a facility where you’ll be trained whether you consent or not. How does that make you feel?”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the words died in my throat. Because the truth was Mrs. Chen was right. The helplessness, the lack of control, the way I was being taken somewhere against my will—it was making me wet. My body was responding to the situation in ways that horrified me, in ways that reminded me of things I’d sworn I’d forgotten.
For a moment, I considered telling her. Admitting that the idea of being trained for Ryan’s pleasure sent heat coursing through my veins. That part of me wanted to surrender to whatever they had planned, to stop fighting against urges I’d been suppressing for months.
But then I thought about what that would mean. About having to explain to Ryan why I was this way. About having to tell him about Chad… about Chad’s friends… about the ones whose name I didn’t even know, and the way they and Chad had used me like a piece of meat while I begged for more.