I was where I needed to be—at Electra's mercy. She anchored me in place as if she feared I'd run away. I was exposed—unguarded, vulnerable, and naked. And, surprisingly, I was begging for it—for this.

My wrists were handcuffed to the chains hanging from the ceiling, my ankles were handcuffed, chained to the floor, and Electra was circling me, slapping her flogger against the palm of her hand, and giving me the death stare that had my stomach tightening.

I need to remind myself that this isn't for sexual gratification. I'm only asking Electra to discipline me. To help me manipulate my mind to go back to when my parents died in that fucking helicopter—the day my heart completely died with them.

The room echoed when Electra slapped the flogger to the palm of her hand—harder than she was moments earlier. Sounding imperious, she said, "Aaron, I've known you for three years, and not once have you come to me to be dominated. So before we get started, I need you to tell me why you're here."

"I need you to punish and humiliate me," I answered confidently.

She stopped circling, stopping before me—studying me. After a moment, her head tilted to the side, and my heart sped up when she dragged the flogger from my face down my body. Assuming she was going to whip my abdomen with it, I flinched.

"Why do you want to be punished and humiliated? What have you done to deserve what you're asking for?"

"How much time do we have?"

She lifted a brow. "For you?"

I nodded.

"Twenty minutes."

"We don't have much time."

Electra traced my jawline with the flogger, my heart thumping hard against my chest, waiting for her to crack the whip against my cheek. "Give me a rundown on why you need to be punished and humiliated without being sexually gratified."

"My mind is a mess. One. Huge. Fucking. Mess," I answered slowly through gritted teeth, angry with myself for allowing two people to get inside my head and fuck with my mind.

The reason I'm here is to be punished for what I've allowed to happen tonight and for Electra to humiliate me—to bring my mind back to my school years that made me who I am today, returning me to who I was just a few short days ago.

"I need you to elaborate for me, Aaron. Make me understand where your mind is and why you believe this is what you need from me."

When I stared over her shoulder and at the wall, my jaw clenched when I felt the sting of her flogger collide with my cheek.

"Tonight, I was in the middle of having an orgy with four women when I abruptly ended the affair. And it's something I never fucking do."

A look of surprise appeared on her face. I don't know Electra on a personal level. But I've known her long enough to know enough about who she is and what she does ever since Trent hired her three years ago. We've talked; she knows my lifestyle and what brings me great joy after a work week that wasn't so kind to me—threesomes. So, seeing the shock on her face from my admission was no surprise.

"Why did you end it?"

"My conscience took over me."

Her brows lifted. "Your conscience," she repeated. "Why? What brought that on?"

The entire conversation with my grandmother returned to my mind. As well as the things Rory said, making sure what he said stayed with me by his words embedding under my skin and my mind holding those words hostage.

I lunged forward when Electra's whip cracked against my backside. The sting of the impact assaulted my entire body and traveled to my eyes, causing them to want to show she caused me great pain.

"Tell me, Aaron. I can't do what you're begging me to do when you don't open up to me."

"A couple of people crawled into my mind and refused to leave."

"Who?"

"My grandmother and Rory."

"Your friend Rory?"

"Yes."

"What did they say that gave you a conscience?"

"My grandmother demanded that I quit playing the field, that it was time for me to grow up, settle down, and give her what she wants before she finds herself knocking on heaven's door."

"And what does she want from you?"

"She wants me to find a wife, and she wants me to have kids to carry on the family name."

She must not have liked hearing why I needed to be punished because next, she asked, "Do you remember the safe word we discussed?"

How could I forget?

It was a name someone gave me in my school years, a name I never got over being called. A name that forced me to do what I could to have the body I do today.

And the person who gave it to me destroyed my heart and mind.

"Broomstick."

A pleased smile appeared on her lips. "Good boy. Now, before we get to this punishment, you desire to receive. Tell me what Rory said to you that made you feel you needed to end your sexual tryst with those four women."

"He told me I was making a huge mistake. That I could be sued if I went through with the orgy."

She let that sink in momentarily before asking, "Why would you be sued for having an orgy? Was it not consensual?"

"Oh, it was. Those women were the ones who offered the night of fun."

"If that's the case, then why fear being sued?"

Embarrassed by what I was about to say, my eyes clenched tight as I admitted, "Because one of the women involved happened to be an upcoming patient of mine."

"That's a prominent no-no, Doctor Rhodes. Rory was right. You could've been sued."

Fuck.

Electra had to go there. First, addressing me as doctor. Secondly, for saying Rory was right, and third, for agreeing with my friend that I could've been sued.

I knew what it meant when Electra walked behind me—she was on her way to punish me for almost having sex with a patient.

I deserve it.

I was right about what I assumed Electra was up to, because the next thing I felt was the fucking sting from her whip when it connected with my backside.

"Say it," she demanded when I grit my teeth and said nothing—I was trying to swallow the pain of the whip that crawled into my throat and got stuck.

"Thank you, Mistress Electra. Please, can I have another lashing?"

She whipped my backside again, but much harder.

"Thank you, Mistress Electra. Please, can I have another lashing?"

She whipped her lash against my back again, even harder. The burning sensations of the sting caused my body temperature to rise and the insides of my stomach to climb into my throat, restricting my airway.

It seemed like an eternity that this went on for a total of ten whippings. When she finished leaving welt marks on my back, she wanted to know, "We're running out of time until my next client arrives. So, if you want to leave this room refreshed, I need you to tell me why you want me to humiliate you."

"To get my mind back to where it's been since I was fifteen."

"And where was that?"

She stepped around me, facing me, and when I didn't respond, her hand met with my right cheek, the sound of the slap reverberating against the four corners of the room and back into my ears, reminding me I needed to admit why I wanted to be humiliated.

"Back when I vowed never to fall in love with a woman. Telling myself that all they'll be good for is having sex with them."

Electra found my eyes, and what I saw in them surprised me—concern. Something that everyone here knows isn't in her vocabulary. "Can I ask why you made that vow?"

I swallowed as my mind immediately returned to my fifteen-year-old self—when my life forever changed.

Not only did I lose my parents, but two days before they were killed, a girl I had been chasing after for months humiliated me in front of half the students at my school, my friends, and her friends—breaking me.

Literally...

For months, she flirted, teased, and taunted me. Every day, she made it seem like she was into me. She made me believe she wanted me. And she had me believing that if I asked her out, she'd say yes.

She moved to Chicago in the middle of our ninth-grade year, and on her first day of school, she was late for class. When she walked into my math class looking nervous and out of place, I was the one who immediately befriended her when our teacher gave her hell about being late to his class.

I defended her that morning, telling the teacher he needed to give her a break because she was new. He didn't seem to think so, even after she gave him a pass from the office. Then he sent me to the principal's office for arguing with him and for telling him he was a piece of shit.

Probably not the smartest thing to say to your teacher, but he pissed me off, and I was trying to be a showoff to the most beautiful girl I had ever seen.

She had the warmest and biggest brown eyes, thick, long brown hair that ended at her hips, and a smile that excited my dick whenever she smiled.

At first, we were inseparable. She came to my house every day after school, and we studied together. She was terrible at math, and I was a wizard at it. I taught her problem-solving tricks and helped her turn her failing grade into an A.

I also helped her in biology class, helping her understand the physics of it.

The only course she helped me pass was language arts. English was definitely not my subject, and it still isn't. My assistant Darcy has fun pointing out my grammatical mistakes nearly every day.

The more we hung out and hung out with my friends, the more she became friends with them.

Then, the domino effect happened.

Not long after becoming friends with mine, she started making other friends, became a cheerleader for the varsity baseball team, and became the most popular chic in high school.

I was proud of her. She was no longer the timid new girl—she was vibrant.

And I was falling hard for the full-of-life, enthusiastic, brown-eyed girl.

All my friends had girlfriends, and it had me feeling left out whenever we all got together. Callum and Rory knew who I had a crush on and suggested I ask her out before someone else swept her off her feet.

When I finally got the nerve to ask the girl of my dreams to be my girl, she made me look like a fool. She turned into someone I didn't know.

That day, she humiliated and insulted me in front of my friends, her friends, and half the school.

"I want a man, not a kid, who'd wave in the wind if you were put on a flagpole." That was one of the things she said to me.

Yeah, I was a skinny kid. It wasn't by choice; I just couldn't help it. No matter what I did, I couldn't put on weight or gain muscle.

Every day after that, until we graduated, she avoided me. And whenever we crossed paths, and she was with her friends, she continued making fun of me and putting me down with sly, hurtful remarks.

Even though I had already vowed never to allow myself to fall for another girl ever again, Callum and I made a pact after his girlfriend passed away. Never again would we allow a woman to steal our hearts. It was just him and I. We became a team, doing everything together—including finding women who wanted nothing more than sex.

That's when the sharing came in—and threesomes. Only Callum was the one who called all the shots. As he was more of the charmer than I was—he was the experienced one with women. I was the one who'd never had a girlfriend. He knew everything to say to swoon the girls to get what we were looking for.

Then he met, fell in love, and married Eloise, ruining our pact.

I guess I can't blame him for ending the pact we started. Eloise is hot as fuck. And if he didn't continue trying to land her as his, I probably would have tried.

Maybe.

Probably not.

Who am I kidding? I wouldn't have tried a thing. I would've only tapped into her once and then went on to the next willing woman looking for a one-night fling.

But Callum and Eloise are a perfect match. They don't take each other's shit, and Eloise is good at calling him out on everything he needs to be called out to. They're actually quite comical together. And now I can't wait to see how this father's role will play out for Callum once their child is born in a couple of months.

Because knowing Eloise and how Callum made her the boss outside of the bedroom, all his traveling will end.

My reminiscing down memory lane came to a halt when the whip collided with my backside again. Causing me to shout, "Motherfucker, that hurt!"

"Aaron, I only have a couple of minutes left with you. Explain to me why you want to be humiliated. And I want to know why this humiliation is behind the vow you made years ago?"

"Because the girl I was head over heels for, who I befriended when nobody else would after she moved to Chicago from California, humiliated me in front of half the school when I finally grew the balls to ask her out. She bullied me from the end of ninth grade until we graduated. She made fun of me. And she put me down every chance she got—especially whenever she was around the new friends she made."

"Can I ask what she did to shame you?"

"Put it this way. I was the skinny fucking guy who couldn't gain weight or muscle to save my life. She knew it, and she hurt me by calling me vulgar names, saying hurtful things she knew would upset me, and occasionally, I'd receive packages with the contents inside, mocking how skinny I was."

Electra stood before me, sweeping me from head to toe. "You're far from being skinny, Aaron. You've got a nice muscular body now."

Annoyed, I rolled my eyes and groaned, "Just fucking bring back old wounds and fucking make it believable when you humiliate me, all right? I need this. I need to get back to who I was before Friday afternoon. Please. Say hurtful things to me. Tell me a Cheerio wouldn't even save my life because of how skinny I am. Something. Anything,"

She stepped closer, wrapped her hand around my cock, and looked me in the eye when she squeezed hard. "Did she ever see or feel this?"

I slowly swallowed, then shook my head. "No. Before she came along, I was a shy, quiet guy. After she fucking tore my heart out, I changed to who I am today."

I flinched when she squeezed my dick even harder. "That's too bad she never got to see what you have here." Her eyes lowered to my cock in her hand, and as she looked up, smirking, she said, "I can't humiliate you there. You've got a nice cock, Doctor Rhodes."

Fuck, there she is, addressing me as doctor again.

"So, I've been told," I responded through clenched teeth.

She stepped back and studied me for a moment, and what she said next brought me right back to the day when I heard the same fucking line from the girl who shattered me to pieces.

"Aaron, eat a fucking cheeseburger. You're so damn skinny that when you stand against the wall, you look like a damn crack."

"Mistress Electra?"

"Yes."

"Put me out of my misery by using your lash-out whip on me. Whip me so fucking hard I'll bleed for days. Please."

Her brows pinched together. "Aaron. I can't do that."

"Do it. Please. That's why I'm here. Remember?"

"Times up, Aaron. I have a paying client waiting."

"Please. I beg of you. Because even though you said one of the things she said to me. Word per word. Reminding me how much of a loser I was back then. My grandmother is still in my head telling me I'm being stupid, that what you're doing to me isn't working. So I need to be disciplined for not forcing her out and allowing her to try running my life at thirty-five years old."

Electra held up three fingers. "Three lashings, and then you're done. Ensure you drink lots of water before leaving this floor."

"Yes, Mistress Electra. Thank you."

***

I eyed the mirror as my back faced it, staring, studying the wounds. Two days later, the markings of Electra's whip were still bright red and swollen, with some of the welts split open. My back did not look good. It looked like I was a slave who had escaped to get away from the beatings.

My head shook just seeing the punishment I requested and how it didn't do a damn fucking thing.

All because it's still lying heavily on my mind about what my grandmother wants from me. It makes me nervous, and honestly? It fucking scares the living hell out of me.

Me? Married? Kids?

Fuck. I don't see it.

Not to mention I don't want it.

I don't want any of it.

Love is overrated.

Marriage is overrated.

As for kids? They're cute. They're fun. And they can be hilarious, but I don't see them in my future. It's always nicer to be around them for a few hours, have fun with them, spoil them rotten, and then hand them back to their parents to let them deal with them.

My mind is such a fucking mess it has me thinking I should go back to the club and revisit Electra.

I sighed at the thought of hiring Electra tonight for an hour to give me the full punishment I deserve—adding to the wounds already killing my back. Twenty minutes with her apparently wasn't enough for her to manipulate my mind.

Feeling sorer than I did the day before, I cringed when I put on my shirt, and the fabric rubbed against my broken, burning, abused flesh.

Fuck, that hurt.

Today's going to be fun. Hopefully, all I have are consultation appointments today. As sore as I am and how it hurts to move my arms or anything else, really, there's no way I can perform any surgeries today or even in the next few days.

Even if I did have surgeries on the schedule, I guess it's the price I have to pay for making Electra do what I wanted her to do. I'll just have to be extra careful while making my incisions and pray I don't botch it up.

It even fucking hurt to sit in my Suburban and drive to the clinic. Again, I have to remind myself that I'm the one who asked for this.

I needed it, so maybe this excruciating pain I'm still feeling is exactly what I need to continue convincing my mind to return to my old self.

I hope.

"Good morning, Doctor Rhodes!" Darcy cheerfully greeted, then smiled. "How are you this morning?"

I stepped in front of the counter and carefully rested my forearms on top of it, trying not to show I was in pain.

"You're awfully chipper this morning. Did you win the lottery?"

She smiled while shaking her head. Her smile widened as she said, "No! But I got a job offer at your friend's club!"

She what?

My eyelids blinked repeatedly, stunned and at a loss for words.

Not wanting to burst her bubble and show her that it upsets me for her to even think about working there, I politely said, "You did? That's great!" I tried acting excited, but even I knew it sounded forced. "Doing what?"

"Front counter."

Huh.

I wonder who's leaving?

"Can I ask why you'd want to work there? The front counter doesn't pay that much."

"Oh, you think..." she stuttered. "I'm leaving here? I'm not going anywhere, Doctor Rhodes. It was just offered to me. I was only letting you know that I had gotten an exciting offer, and I'm unsure if having a second job is what I'd want."

Hmm. I wonder who offered her a job?

"Who offered you the job?"

"Trent, I think his name was. Your friend's brother."

I nodded.

I carefully pushed away from the counter, saying, "Please let me know what you decide to do. I'm not so sure working at that club would be something you'd enjoy."

Her head tilted to the side, and her eyebrows pinched together when she asked, "Why?"

Because I don't want you working there, that's why. You're way too innocent.

"I don't think it's the type of environment you'd enjoy being around."

She shrugged. "I'm more adventurous than you think I am."

Darcy winked at me, and that facial expression made my skin crawl for some reason. So before I say something I'll regret, I pointed toward the hallway, saying, "I better get at it."

She nodded.

As I sauntered toward the hallway, she stopped me. "Ah, Doctor Rhodes? I forgot to tell you, you have a visitor waiting in your office."

I turned around, asking, "Who?"

She grinned and shrugged without saying who it was.

Great.

My heart gained a little speed as I opened the door to my office, and when I stepped in and saw the smirk on Trent's face as he sat in my chair, my stomach flip-flopped.

"Aaron," Trent said, humor in his voice.

Fuck. Electra must've said something to him. Or he saw me leaving her room the other night.

Trent stood, extending his hand, offering me to sit in my own chair.

"What did you need?" I muttered, trying to avoid the curiousness in his eyes as I stepped around him and sat, nervously adjusting my tie.

"I came to see if you were all right."

Looking at the stack of files on my desk, I said, "Why wouldn't I be?"

"Oh, I don't know." My eyes finally found his as he sat across from me. He looked concerned, but he also had a look of amusement on his face. "Maybe because you visited with my favorite employee the other night."

I nervously swallowed.

He leaned back in his chair, raised his leg, and rested his foot on his knee. Folding his hands and resting them on his stomach, he asked, "How's your back?"

"Did she tell you?"

"She didn't have to. I saw you leaving the club, walking stiffly like you were hurting. So. I'm going to ask again. How's your back?"

He already knows, so I might as well get this shit over with, so he'll leave me alone. I rubbed my forehead, sighing, "I'm fucking sore."

He's eyeing me like he's afraid to ask if he could see what she did. So before he assumed, Electra overdid what I asked her to do. I stood and unbuttoned my shirt.

"She only did what I begged her to do."

"Which was?"

"Punish and humiliate me."

"Why?"

"I'm sure you know," I said dryly. "And since you have a curious look in your eye, afraid to ask to see the markings, I'll just show you." I turned my back to him and lowered my shirt to my waist. "Happy?"

"Jesus, Aaron. What were you thinking?"

Pulling my shirt back up, I shook my head and said, "It doesn't matter. It didn't work, anyway."

I sat back in my chair, focusing my eyes on him. He lowered his leg, saying, "Somehow, you need to load your back with Arnica cream. It'll speed up the healing process."

"I'm not worried. It's nothing I can't handle."

"It looks pretty swollen. Have you iced it?"

"Yes."

"Once the bruising starts, you'll want to apply a heat pack to it."

"You don't have to tell me. I know."

"Well, I'm a little concerned, Aaron. This happened at my club. And I don't need anything happening to one of my members or friends."

"Like I said, I can handle this," I groaned. "I've dealt with worse shit through the years."

"Why did you do it?"

I looked down, groaning, "Don't worry about it. It's my problem, not yours."

"Does this have anything to do with you leaving the bar the other night with four women?"

My eyes shot up.

"Before you assume Electra broke the client code, Callum told me about you leaving with them."

I closed my eyes, tilted my head back, and scrubbed my face. He's the last person on this earth I want to know what I skipped out on.

Trent's the fucking king when it comes to orgies. So he'd be the one to give me hell for walking away from something he loves.

"It has nothing to do with them," I somewhat lied. "I've just got some personal shit I'm trying to figure out how to handle."

Knowing Trent, he'll push to know how it went the other night. And by how he's eyeing me, I'm pretty sure he already knows I didn't go through with it. He wants to hear it from me.

"Did you back out?"

My hands dropped from my face as I lowered my head. "Why do you ask that?"

"Because the time you left Callum and the others at the bar and the time you entered my club wouldn't have been enough time for you to have had the sex party, you left to have." He tapped his temple. "I'm much smarter than you're giving me credit for."

"Jesus, Trent. Can't anyone keep anything to themselves without having to share information with you?"

"I would've left it alone had I not seen you leaving the club in pain and how I saw you drinking your whiskey in a tall glass. Something happened. And if you're in some kind of trouble, I'd like it if you told me what's going on so I can help you," he offered sincerely.

"You need to quit watching the fucking cameras. It's making you crazy." Thinking what I said was funny, he chuckled. "I'm not in any kind of trouble. Like I said, I have some personal shit I need to work out. I'm good. Thanks for the offer," I pushed, hoping what I said was enough to get him to leave.

"Aaron. Talk to me," he begged, crossing his arms against his chest.

I reached for a file, dropped it in front of me, and pretended to slim through my notes when I flipped it open. "I have work to do."

"I already looked at your schedule. You've got plenty of time to talk to me before your next patient arrives."

"I don't have time for this. Just because my next appointment isn't supposed to be here for another hour, I still have other stuff I need to do before she arrives."

He stayed planted in his chair, and when I felt the heat of his stare, I looked up, and seeing he hadn't moved, I sighed.

"Fine. If you're that hard up to know, I left in the middle of the sex party. Not because I couldn't handle it, but because of some other shit. And before you ask what that is, I'll tell you it was because one of the girls there is a patient of mine. That's why I fucking walked away. Now, will you drop it so I can return to work?"

He seemed pleased with that admission. But I could still see he knew I was keeping something from him.

However, what I admitted to Trent must've been good enough for him because he stood.

Thank fuck.

After a moment of studying me, he pointed his finger at me, giving me a warning. "This better not be about that one stupid bitch who fucked up your mind years ago. What was her name again?"

"Don't worry about it. It has nothing to do with her," I muttered, annoyed.

"You have the same look in your eye you did when she turned your world upside down. Something happened the other night that brought up something old. I see it written all over your face, Aaron. Something heavy is weighing on your mind. What happened with those girls? What did they say or do to you?"

"I told you. What I've got going on has nothing to do with them."

He planted his ass back in the chair, crossing his leg over the other as he leaned back, eyeing me.

This fucker isn't going to leave until I open up to him. But I didn't feel like having this conversation with him, and since I had no time to discuss my dilemma with him, I said, "You know what? If you really want to know what happened the other night, then go to your employee. Ask Electra."

"I can't. You know the rules."

"Fuck the rules. I've got to get back to work. Just tell Electra I'm giving her the okay to fill you in on the bullshit I'm dealing with."

Trent stood, and relief coursed through me when he headed to the door. With his hand on the doorknob, he turned to face me. "I'm picking you up at seven. Be ready."

"For what?"

"To get your sanity back."

Good luck with that. "I already tried that. Did you not see the welts on my back?"

He smirked. "I saw. But that's not what I have in mind."

That only means one thing. Trent wants to involve me in a fucking threesome—with him.

I hope you enjoyed the chapter!!