Page 116 of Pierced

“Yeah…” I say, sheepishly. “That’s why I’m here.”

“Well, then. Just offer me that. I’m in Paris. I have no plans to go back. Why don’t you just offer me the job of running the Paris office? You think that’d make it all OK?”

I pause for a second. Then… “I—Would it?”

“Oh, my God! You are the stupidest smart person I’ve ever met!”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that before.”

“Goodbye, Pierce.”

She takes off again. Faster this time. I chase.

“Please, Myrtle, wait. Wait! Please! I love you!”

She doesn’t stop before she turns around this time. She just whips on me.

“Well, that’s great for you. That’s great that you get to feel that way. But that doesn’t really have anything to do with me, does it?”

“What are you talking about?”

“Do you know why I came up with the idea of making you my submissive? Even if it was just going to be for a minute?”

I look at my feet. Nod. “Because you wanted me to feel humiliated like you felt humiliated. I know. I get it. I—”

“No,” she says, sadly. “You don’t get it. I mean, look, it’s partially on me. There’s no way that you could learn how to submit to me in the way I wanted in the time that we were going to have. It can take years to really understand. But, in short, being a submissive means that you learn to rely on me. To trust me. To trust me. And to know that I will never abuse that trust. That I will never hurt you. In return, I accept your submission and do not take for granted the gift of you giving your trust over to me.”

She looks into my eyes, searching for something.

“I’m saying the whole dom/sub relationship is about trust, Pierce. That’s it. That’s the deal. And it’s about considering someone else instead of just your own wants and desires. The problem? You can trust me, but I can’t trust you. And I’ve shown for years that I can put your needs above mine, but you can’t put me above you in any way. And to even consider trying anything with you again, I’d need something shared. Something we agree on. That’s why I wanted you to sign a contract, an agreement. Because for a long time, this has been a one-way street that travels in a direction I’m just not willing to go down by myself anymore.”

“That’s not fair.”

“Isn’t it?”

I think for a moment. Because you rarely get a second chance. And you really don’t get a third. Or a fourth. Or what the fuck ever number I’m on now.

“OK, it is fair. You’re right. But you just said it can take years. And I’m assuming that’s when you’re dealing with someone who isn’t so totally on the other end of the spectrum as I am. So, y’know, it’ll take me a little longer. But… is there any way you can try to give me that chance? Any way at all?”

She folds her arms and tucks her gloved hands against her chest. “How can you expect me to try when you didn’t even try a little?”

“Try a little what?”

“To come after me. To call or to come by or anything.”

“Yeah, I know.” What I don’t know is if she can hear the requisite shame in my voice. But it’s there. “I know. That was… I know. I’m sorry. I can try to explain, but… it doesn’t matter.”

“It does to me.”

“Right. OK. Well, I thought I was doing what you wanted. You made it very clear that we were on a zero-tolerance kind of a deal, and so… I just wanted to honor that. To submit to what I thought your wishes would be, if you will.”

“Don’t get cute.”

“I’m not trying to. I swear.”

I’ve known Myrtle for a long time. I’ve not known Myrtle for a long time. Both things are true. So I can’t be certain if what I’m sensing in her energy is a slight thawing, or if she’s just a sleeping tiger that’s about to wake up and rip my face off. But this is it. This is one hundred percent it. This game of cat and mouse stops here. I will have no more chances. I have to do something. And I have to do it now. So…

“What are you doing?” she asks as I put my coffee cup down, pull off my gloves and strip off my overcoat. “Pierce?” I don’t say a word. Competing voices volley in my brain. My father. Andrew. Eden. My own.