But then my tall, dark, and handsome stranger picked me up and carried me away from the noise, away from the eyes, away from everyone, and he just held me.

And that’s when the tears came.

Now I’m in his arms, quietly crying against his chest. I can’t even really say why I’m crying so much. Maybe I’m crying because I’m sad. Maybe I’m just lonely. I’m not embarrassed, so I’m not crying because I’m shy. He’s right, though. It was a really intense scene. I don’t always come when I have scenes with people at the dungeon, but when I do, I always feel really empty afterward.

It’s like all of my emotion, all of my heart, spilled out when I had an orgasm and there’s nothing left inside of me but goo.

There’s nothing left inside of me but sadness and anxiety.

And I just don’t know what to do.

“Christina,” I hear the man’s voice, but I don’t look up. “Christina,” he repeats. “I’m Zack. Can you look at me? Can you do that for me?”

Slo

wly, I manage to bring my eyes to his.

“Good girl,” he murmurs, and I’m filled with an overwhelming sense of peace and calmness. The endearment shouldn’t mean so much to me, but it does. I so often feel like I do everything wrong, but those two simple words mean the world to me.

Good girl.

“How are you feeling?” He rubs my back gently. Someone drops off a blanket to us and I hear him thanking them, but I don’t look up to see who it is. He wraps the blanket around me, but keeps his hand on my back. I can feel him against my skin, and it’s comforting.

“I…I don’t know,” I tell him honestly.

Scared.

Tired.

Worn out.

Exhausted.

I feel calm and terrified at the same time, but when I’m with him, in his arms, I feel a deep sense of safety. I feel a deep sense of peace.

Holy dragons.

Is this what I’ve been missing out on?

“Well, let’s keep things simple,” he says gently. “Do you feel thirsty?”

“A little,” I admit, and a bottle of water appears in front of my face.

“Will you drink some for me?”

I nod. Normally, I wouldn’t drink water after a scene. I know staying hydrated is important, but I’m always way too exhausted to drink. Still, knowing I’m doing it for this man, for this Dom who is taking care of me, is calming to me.

I might not be doing it for myself, but I’m doing it for him, and that pleases him.

This knowledge makes me feel happy.

He holds the water bottle to my lips and I sip it slowly.

“Good girl,” he says again, and I lean back against his chest. He continues rubbing my back and he wraps his other arm around me, pulling me closer to him.

He smells good: masculine. He doesn’t smell anything like the Dom I was playing with. He smells like sandalwood. He smells like kindness. I want to wrap his scent around me like a blanket and just stay here in his arms for hours.

I wonder if he’d let me.


Tags: Sophie Stern Anchored Fantasy