Page 81 of Axe Marks the Spot

I’M FLOATING. MY FEET are on the ground, but I feel as if my body is in the clouds. My problems are a million miles away, and for the past four days, I’ve woken up every morning to my alarm feeling like my life is finally heading down the right track. It’s wonderful.

My phone buzzes, and like an addict, I grab it off the table in the break room, opening my message app to read my new message from Dane.

Sir

I’ve read over your journal entries, and I’m pleased you’re feeling good about our new dynamic and that you feel satisfied with the routines we’re establishing. You’re doing so well, baby.

My stomach flutters at his praise along with the endearment. Since we discussed new boundaries and signed our amended agreement on Monday, one that removed the clauses about no sex or sexual activities happening between us, things have been great.

We went over every question on the second part of the questionnaire when we revised the contract, and I still can’t believe how many things I marked as “willing to try.” Medical play, schoolroom scenes, voyeurism—even shaving and erotic objectification. Dane was professional the whole time, like he always has been. Asking thoughtful questions, adjusting things, and, from what I could tell, filing ideas away for later.

I’ve been journaling not only about the role-play experience but any feelings that have come up with our new dynamic. Dane and I haven’t had another scene like the one on Sunday, but beyond talking about the sexual questions and our agreement, we’ve continued flirting over messages, building more trust with each other through our daily interactions and my check-ins. I swear I’ve had to change my underwear at least once a day with the sexual tension between us, but I haven’t come since Sunday. I’m hoping that will change soon, however, because playing with him again is all I’ve been able to think about.

I type out a message and sit back in my chair, nibbling on a carrot stick I packed. That’s another thing I’ve been good about—packing lunches. I even made Kas premade ones for when she’s with JoJo so they don’t eat frozen stuff. She complained to me yesterday that she’d rather have chicken nuggets, but I’m trying to be better about putting my foot down even if it’s uncomfortable. Something Dane is helping me with.

I smile as I swallow another bite. When I started working with Dane, I had a feeling it would help me, but I never expected to feel so good. With every text and action, I’m more hopeful instead of down on myself all the time.

I’ve also been speaking to myself better and feeling more confident in my parenting as each day ends. Amazing what routines can do—what having Dane in my life has done.

Me

Thank you, Sir. I wanted to let you know I’ve got Nathan’s days set for watching Kas until school starts at the end of the month, and I said no to covering a shift tomorrow so I can take her to the obstacle course before she heads to see her dad.

I managed to convince Jeremy to let Kas come a day later for his weekend with her. She’ll stay till Monday instead of Sunday; that way, she doesn’t have to miss the obstacle course tomorrow. He gave me hell, but I used Kas’s pouty face to my advantage. It messed up my work schedule a bit, but Nathan, Fox, and Morgan came to the rescue, going above and beyond for me. They’re going to drive her down to Santa Solana and stay for the weekend; that way, I don’t have to worry about picking her up on Monday. Nathan was happy to do it. He wants to try to teach Fox how to surf, and they claimed they needed a little vacation.

I finish typing out the text with a wider smile. Dropping off Kas wasn’t my only reason for saying no to the extra shift. I need rest from work so I don’t completely burn out, but I also want to see Dane in person when I drop her off. A little pathetic? Probably. But the idea of seeing him, even if we can’t touch or talk, has me more excited than I’d like to admit.

His message pops up a second later, and I read it eagerly.

Sir

Good girl, I know that must have been hard for you to do. But shouldn’t you be working now?

I giggle at his message, knowing he would have said that in his growly voice if he were here with me.

Me

On my break.

Sir

How long do you have left?

Immediately, I wonder why he’s asking, and I can’t help but imagine what he could possibly have me do in twenty minutes while I’m at work. Does he want me to send him a titty pic or something?

I don’t see Dane asking me to do that, even though I wouldn’t mind. In fact, I’d find that a little hot. The idea of forbidden is fun. I also did say on my questionnaire I would be interested in public play, even if I don’t know what that looks like.

I realize time is running out the more I think, so I send him an answer.

Me

About twenty minutes.

Sir

We haven’t taken a look at your finances yet. Do you have time to send me over what you need help with?

The floating feeling I felt before dies. Like a balloon losing helium, I slowly come down to the ground until I’m a sad, wrinkly blob.