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)
“Go ahead,” he said simply.
I stared at him, my heart beginning to race. “I… what do you mean?”
“You said you needed to use the bathroom. So use it.” His voice was matter-of-fact, as if this were the most natural thing in the world.
“But…” I glanced desperately at the door, then back at his impassive face. “You’re not going to leave?”
“No.” He settled more comfortably against the wall. “Heather, you’ve lost the privilege of modesty. You’ve been lying to your husband, to yourself, to everyone around you for months. Until you can prove you’re capable of complete honesty, you won’t be allowed any privacy at all.”
My face burned with humiliation. “I can’t… not with you watching.”
“Don’t be silly.” His tone was dismissive. “Your body has natural functions, Heather. There’s nothing shameful about them. The shame comes from the lies you’ve been telling.”
I pressed my thighs together, the pressure in my bladder becoming impossible to ignore. But the thought of him watching me made my entire body flush with heat that had nothing to do with embarrassment.
“Please,” I whispered, my voice cracking. “Just turn around, or step outside for a minute. I promise I won’t… I won’t touch myself.”
Master Paul shook his head. “Sit down on the toilet, Heather. Now.”
The command in his voice was absolute. My legs moved without conscious thought, carrying me to the toilet where I perched on the edge of the seat, then sat there, trembling with humiliation as Master Paul watched me with those penetrating brown eyes. My bladder ached with desperate need, but the thought of relieving myself while he observed made my entire body flush with mortification.
“I’m waiting,” he said calmly, his arms still crossed over his chest.
The pressure became unbearable. I squeezed my eyes shut, trying to pretend he wasn’t there, and finally let go. The sound seemed mortifyingly loud in the small tiled space, and I felt my face burn with shame so intense it made my skin tingle. But underneath the humiliation, I felt something else—the unwelcome warmth spreading through my core at being so completely exposed and vulnerable.
“Good girl,” Master Paul said when I finished, his voice carrying that same approving tone that had broken me the night before. “See how much easier things are when you stop fighting?”
I couldn’t look at him as I cleaned myself, my hands shaking with the combination of embarrassment and unwanted arousal. The casual way he’d watched such an intimate act made me feel utterly owned, completely at his mercy.
After I washed my hands, he led me to the dining room where the other wives were already seated. I took my place beside Elizabeth, grateful for the cushion that was still there from the night before. The conversation was muted this morning, and I noticed Lisa looked particularly tired, dark circles under her eyes.
“Rough night?” Joann asked her quietly.
Lisa nodded. “Master James decided I needed some… additional instruction about… well, you know… taking it… back there.” She shifted uncomfortably on her own cushion. “I’m not supposed to talk about it, but let’s just say he taught me a lesson.”
I ate my breakfast in silence, my mind racing with what that might mean. The eggs and toast tasted like cardboard as I thought about what lay ahead for me.
After we finished eating, Master Paul appeared at my side. “Come along, Heather. Time for your physical conditioning.”
He led me to the gymnasium I’d seen during my tour. The space was empty except for us, the equipment gleaming under the lights. From a cabinet, he retrieved a white sports bra and handed it to me.
“Put this on,” he instructed. “We can’t have you bouncing around during exercise.”
I slipped the bra over my head, grateful for even this small covering. The fabric was soft and supportive, but I was still acutely aware of my bare bottom and legs as he guided me to a treadmill.
“We’ll start with a warmup,” he said, adjusting the settings. “Five minutes of jogging, then twenty at a moderate pace.”
As I began to run, I felt exposed and vulnerable with my bare legs pumping and my bottom completely uncovered. But gradually, something shifted. The rhythmic movement, the steady beat of my feet on the belt, the way my body began to warm and loosen—it felt good. Better than I’d felt in months.
After the treadmill, Master Paul led me to a series of weight machines. My legs felt shaky from the run, but he was relentless in his instruction.
“Leg press first,” he said, adjusting the weight. “Your body needs to be strong, Heather. Strong enough to serve your husband properly.”
I positioned myself on the machine, acutely aware of how exposed I felt with my legs spread wide. The weight was challenging, but manageable, and I found myself focusing on the burn in my muscles rather than my embarrassment.