Rich Tapestry by Ashe Barker

either. One look from those cool, dark eyes, one tilt of that commanding chin, and I submit.
    Dan Riche says nothing, offers no words of encouragement or reassurance. He just turns and continues pacing down the corridor. I can go with him or not. My choice.
    No choice at all. I fall into step beside him and allow him to lead me into yet more tangled confusion without a backward glance.
    Dan opens the door of room fifteen on the second floor and stands back to gesture me inside. This is it. Last chance. I can say no.
    I step through the entrance. The door clicks shut behind me. My eye is drawn immediately to the padded bench at one end of the room. I quake at the sight. I have hardly a moment to glimpse around, to further take in my surroundings, before Dan is striding across the room.
    “Get naked and kneel on the floor.” He barks out his instructions.
    I snap my head around to look at him. Surely he can’t mean me to…?
    “What part of naked and kneel don’t you understand?”
    He does mean me to. He has deposited my clothes on a low couch at one end of the room, below a window. I note the glass is frosted. Probably very wise. He is standing now, facing me, his arms folded, his feet planted slightly apart. He looks much more purposeful than he did either in the bar or the dungeon. Much more intent. And determined. I have his undivided attention, and it’s clear from his irritated scowl that he does not appreciate my slowness to respond.
    “Do as I say—do it now or leave.”
    “But I…”
    He steps forward, and instinctively I move backwards. He doesn’t take kindly to that.
    “Stand still. Never back away from me. You’ll never need to. Not now, not ever. I won’t lay a hand on you without your permission.” His tone has hardened.
    Despite the comfort in his words, I shiver. He sees and comments on it, “Do I need to adjust the heating, Summer?”
    I shake my head, unaccountably miserable. I want to please him, though I haven’t the first idea why. And I seem to be failing royally. I should just do as he says, remove my underwear and kneel at his feet. It would be so easy—wouldn’t it? Instead I lift my hand to brush away a tear as it starts to trickle down my cheek.
    “Tears so soon, Summer? Why is that?”
    “I don’t know. I honestly don’t know. I just… This is so…” I can’t form a coherent explanation, and I fully expect to be on the receiving end of more scathing, uncompromising demands. Now I’m shivering in earnest. I drop my gaze to stare at his feet as he approaches, as he comes to stand right in front of me. I do manage not to step back, so I suppose that must be progress.
    “Overwhelming?” Maybe he thinks so too as his tone has softened now, and he uses the pad of his thumb to wipe away another couple of stray tears. His palms are cradling my face as he tips it up, forcing me to meet his eyes.
    “I don’t mind when submissives cry, though I confess it usually takes me longer than a few seconds to reduce them to tears. But I always like to know why. Can you tell me, please?”
    His eyes are warmer, more inviting and more seductive now than compelling. And suddenly I want to talk to him. I want to tell him how I feel. “Because you don’t like me. I don’t like me right now. I’m confused. I hate what’s happening, what I’m doing. I don’t know why I’m here.” I blurt out the thoughts foremost in my head at this moment and wait to be ordered out of the door.
    “I do like you. You’re beautiful and sexy. I saw that when I first met you, at the wildlife park. You were stunning then, and you’re even more lovely now. And more than a bit quirky, which adds to your appeal. You’re loyal and you care about people. You care about your friend for certain. Why would I not like you? Why would you not like yourself?”
    Why indeed? This was not the answer I was expecting from him, especially the bit about what he thought of me when we first met. I had no idea. It throws