"It was when I was young. When I was figure skating. I didn't know what it was at first. I mean, in school we always learned to be afraid of strangers, to be afraid of people that hit us, that touched us where we weren't comfortable. None of that happened to me, but it still didn't feel right. It didn't feel good."

"Exactly. It felt like there was no one to talk to, no one you could turn to. It felt like no one would believe me, and even if they did believe me, they'd just tell me to harden up."

"That's it, yes. Mine took the form of my mother forcing me to be a figure skater. Every time I practiced, every time I went to a meet, I hated it more. I would cry in the change rooms before I had to go out there. Once, early on, when I was six, I refused to go out. I already started to hate it. I hated the pressure my mother put on me. I hated all of it. She spanked me so hard I was still crying when I went onto the ice. But I never dared tell her I didn't want to do it anymore. No matter how many times she told me I was pointless, no matter how many times she called me a loser, said I was disappointing the family."

"How did you get out of it?"

"I eventually ran away. I planned it for months. I waited for my mother to go to work one day, packed up my things, and left. I'd just graduated from high school, but I was still seventeen. I had a friend who was older, she had been one of the coaches. I told her everything, and she invited me to stay with her. I did, for a few days, then realized I was going to have to get away, since I found out my mother was trying to find me. So I spent most of the rest of my cash and bought a bus ticket to anywhere. I ended up in Minneapolis."

"I admire your courage, Caroline. You have courage I don't. I never ran away. I stayed. I don't know why. I guess I'm just weak, but I was never able to break those bonds completely."

"You're not weak. Absolutely not. They're still your family. It's not easy to just cut them out from your life entirely. Especially not in a situation like yours, where they're in the public eye fairly regularly, where it would be impossible for you to really run."

"I guess so. Still, I decided tonight that I've had it with them. It was enough to abuse me all my life, but I didn't want you to be subjected to it either. Especially now, knowing that you've been through it already, that you know all of the horrible feelings a.s.sociated with it."

"I know, I understand completely."

Just then, Mark's phone began to buzz in his pocket. He took it out and looked at the screen; it was his sister. Tossing the phone aside, we both watched it buzz in vain.

"I guess she's going to have gotten the brunt of it from my parents. Hopefully she's not too upset with me."

"Even if so, Mark, it's not your fault."

"I know, but I still can't help but feel a little bit guilty. She's my sister. I probably should have protected her more."

"She's a grown woman, just like you. She can make her own decisions."

"Yeah, you're right. Still, I should call her back."

I went into the bedroom to give Mark some privacy while he called his sister. Funnily enough, I'd completely forgotten about the fact that I still had that egg inside of me, and I slipped it out carefully. It had only been maybe an hour ago that Mark had made me c.u.m in front of all those people, none of them having the slightest clue as to what was going on inside of me, and yet it felt like a lifetime ago.

Ten minutes later Mark came into the room. He looked stressed, I could tell.

"How did it go?" I asked.

"About as well as could be expected, I guess. She wanted me to know that she still supports me, but to be careful. She says my father was absolutely livid, which was about what I expected."

"What do you think he's going to do about it?"

"I don't know. It's hard, you know? After all, I run companies that he still technically owns. He could have me fired tomorrow, very easily."

"Do you think he'll do that?"

"I honestly don't have a clue. I'm not going to worry about it for now. I think I might just try and get some sleep. We're flying back tomorrow and I don't want to spend another minute in this city more than I have to."

We both lay down on the bed, but neither one of us could sleep. The night had brought back a whole bunch of bad memories, memories I'd long since shoved down into the depths of my memory, that I hadn't thought about in years.

I wondered if my mother was trying to find me. I wondered if she ever tried to find me, or if she decided that at seventeen it was obvious I was never going to have a figure skating career and wrote me off as her daughter.

As I stared at the ceiling, my thoughts turned. I couldn't believe I hadn't realized what Mark had been going through. I should have noticed, I should have figured it out.

I reached over and wrapped my arms around him, and he murmured his appreciation. I knew he wasn't sleeping either, but I didn't want to interrupt his thoughts.

What I didn't know was what was going to happen in the future, now that Mark had finally stood up to his family.

Eventually I must have drifted off, because when the alarm finally went off I was jerked out of my dreamless sleep. I could feel Mark stumbling around for the snooze b.u.t.ton, and I moaned and shoved my head back into the pillow. I didn't know how long I'd been sleeping for, but I knew it wasn't nearly long enough. This was going to be a long day.

Ten minutes later the shrill cry of the alarm went off once more and we both dragged ourselves out of bed.

"You look terrible," I joked, stifling a yawn.

"You're still beautiful, even with dark rings under your eyes," Mark replied, sticking his tongue out at me, and I laughed.

A hot shower did us both some good, and we packed up our things, ready to go. Ten minutes later we were speeding towards the airport, the limo driver stopping for coffee at Mark's request. We sipped our drinks in silence.

"So, what do we do from here?" I finally asked.

"Well, it depends. For one thing, we might get to the plane and find out my father has requisitioned it, in which case we'll have to fly commercial back to San Diego. That would also be a pretty good indication that I don't have a job waiting for me there anymore. I might not have an inheritance, either."

"Well, whatever happens, we'll get through it. It might even be a good thing, getting away from working in your father's company. Even if it costs you the money, no amount of money in the world is worth destroying your mental health for."

Mark smiled at me.

"I guess that means you're not going to break up with me if it turns out I'm not super rich anymore?"

"Of course not! I'm not only in this relationship for the money," I teased.

"Thanks, Caroline. I do really appreciate that. I wouldn't have expected you to be like some of my exes, who would have dropped me in an instant if I didn't have money, but it's still good to confirm it."

"No problem."

Just then we pulled up to the hangar, where the plane was ready for us. We climbed in, and three minutes later were taxiing towards the runway.

"Well, this is a good sign, at least," I said as we took off. "You're still allowed to use the company plane!"

Mark nodded, then took out his laptop.

"I'm going to try and get some work done, I think. It helps to take my mind off things. And after all, I'm not fired yet."

While Mark worked I got a few more hours sleep, and we finally landed in San Diego five hours later.

Over the next few weeks I began to realize that not all was right with Mark. He hadn't quite been the same since New York. He was working less on the business and more on the charity, which I knew made him feel better. I could tell he was hurting inside, I could tell that even though he seemed fine on the outside, there was something inside that was bothering him.

When we went out one night, eating pizza at a small eatery downtown, I finally asked Mark about it.

"Look, I know there's something wrong. I know you've been through a lot, but it hurts me to know that you're hurting inside and not seeing anyone about it, not talking to anyone about it."

Mark stopped for a minute, pausing before he finally answered.

"You're right," he finally replied, sighing. "I've been trying to hide it, I didn't realize I was actually so obvious that it was that noticeable, but I'm definitely not over this whole family thing."

"Of course you're not, that's completely normal."

"It's funny, though. I mean, it actually relieved an enormous amount of stress when I finally confronted my parents. Like, all the words I thought to myself in my head during my childhood, all those times I wanted to say something but didn't have the guts to, confronting him finally made all the stress of never saying those words go away."

"Yeah, I know what you mean. It's like you finally said everything you ever wanted to say, right?"

"Exactly. I thought life would be pretty much perfect once I finally did it. I always thought I'd cut those ties, I wouldn't care about it anymore, and I'd be able to move on, to live my life happily."

"And you can't?" I asked softly. This part I didn't understand. I had left, and never looked back.

"Yeah." Mark paused for a little bit, idly breaking one of the pizza crusts on the edge of his plate up with his fingers. Then, he spoke again.

"It's weird. I thought it'd be so much better, but I feel empty. They might have been s.h.i.t parents, but they were still my family. And now I don't even really feel like I can go to Sam, I feel so guilty about leaving her in the middle of things, to deal with my parents, so it's like I've lost my whole family. No matter how terrible they might have been, you always learn that you're supposed to be good to your family, you know? Then I feel bad and start hating myself for not being able to break away from it all."

"Don't feel bad about having feelings, Mark. You're allowed to feel whatever you feel."

I reached across the table and grabbed his hand, and he smiled and squeezed back.

"Thanks, Caroline. You know, I don't know what I'd do without you. You've been so amazing to me through this whole mess. Plus you're the only person I know who really understands what I'm going through."

"No problem. I know you want to blame yourself. I did too, when I left. Maybe if I'd been a better figure skater, maybe if I'd worked harder, my mother wouldn't have treated me like she did. But eventually I realized that wasn't true, but they were still my feelings. Don't blame yourself, but don't feel bad about feeling whatever it is you feel either. Your feelings don't make you weak, going through this makes you strong."

"I love you, Caroline."

The words came from out of nowhere, they blew me away. I'm pretty sure I sat there staring at Mark for like, five minutes.

"Sorry if that's too forward," he continued, realizing I wasn't saying anything. "I don't want to ruin what we have, but I want you to know. I love you, I realized over the last few weeks. I don't know what I'd do without you in my life."

I smiled. "I love you too, Mark," I finally replied. And as I said the words, I knew it was true. h.e.l.l, I'd known I was in love with Mark for a long time, I was always just too afraid to say it, too afraid to ruin what we had. And speaking of what we had, I realized that since we'd come back from New York there had been no more talk of me becoming Mark's submissive. I guess with everything that had happened we got sidetracked by other things. But now, I knew what I wanted. I knew what I felt that night at the charity dinner when I came in front of all those people, when Mark had complete control over me.

"Not only do I love you, but I want to be your submissive," I said, almost whispering in case people from other tables were listening in to our conversation.

A grin spread across Mark's face.

"I was wondering if you'd forgotten I'd even asked. I didn't want to bring it up again after the trip, but hey, I'm glad you did, especially since that's your answer."

I began to blush, realizing what I'd just said, realizing what it implied.

"I think we should get a sundae to celebrate, I hear they do an amazing one here," Mark said, motioning the waitress over.

I didn't hear Mark order the Sundae, I was still just completely taken aback by what had just happened. Mark had told me he loved me. Like, really loved me. Then I said the same and agreed to be his submissive. Just like that, in the last minute, my life changed so enormously. I didn't know how yet, but I knew it had changed.

"Hey, Caroline, you okay?" Mark asked. I must have really looked like I zoned out. I smiled at him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Great, actually."

"Good, I'm glad."

We barely got out of the restaurant before Mark and I were all over each other, and as our hands roamed our bodies as the car drove us back to his place, I wondered if we were even going to make it that far before we'd ripped each other's clothes off.

For the next week or so, things were pretty much as close to perfect as I could imagine. Mark and I were happier than ever. I was getting used to being his submissive. He bought me a beautiful silk collar studded with diamonds that simply looked like an accessory to everyone we met in public, but that was our secret little representation of his ownership of my body.

It was exciting, really, knowing that I had to obey every one of Mark's commands. He had always been dominating in the bedroom, I knew that, but this took things to a whole new level, a level that sent chills down my spine and pleasure radiating through me whenever I even thought of it.

As far as Mark went, our talk at the restaurant helped. He was no longer withdrawn, he was basically back to normal. He mentioned to me that he might try and get in touch with Sam, to try and apologize and fix that relationship. I encouraged it, absolutely, as I thought it would be good for Mark.

Still, it was almost like I was waiting for the other shoe to drop. There was no way this whole thing could go this perfectly. I know any drama in my family never did. There was no way Mark's father could simply forgive him and move on, as much as I hoped that was what happened and wanted it to.

Finally, it happened. I was working in my office one day when Mark came down to see me. I immediately knew something was wrong. It wasn't just Mark's paler-than-usual face, or the worried crease lines in his forehead. For one thing, he very rarely, if ever actually came down to my office, to avoid any rumours that we might be seeing each other, even though we both knew it was the worst kept secret in the office.

He came in and closed the door behind him, then practically collapsed into the seat on the other side of my desk.

"Mark, what's wrong?" I asked. I normally referred to him as 'Sir' now, but we had decided that whenever we were at work or in public I'd just call him 'Mark' in case someone else overheard.

He waited a minute before answering, collecting his thoughts. When he spoke, it was almost like a whisper, nothing like the confident, deep voice I was used to.

"My father's disinherited me."

"Oh my G.o.d, that's terrible!"

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't care if it was just that. He's also removing me from the board and getting rid of Teach the Children."

I immediately knew this was really what was upsetting Mark.

"What? How can he do that? I thought you had complete control over the charity."

"I thought so too. It turns out that's not actually true. All of the money to start it up was originally in my trust fund, my father had to sign off on it to sign it over into my name. I sent him the paperwork and his lawyers told me they had been signed and filed. Today the lawyer told me that was a lie. Technically the charity operated out of the trust, so it's still in my father's control up until his death, as the trusts are set up so that they can be collapsed and rescinded."

"What the h.e.l.l? Is the lawyer allowed to just lie to you like that?"

"Since he was my father's lawyer and not mine, apparently it's fine. Completely fine. I don't even... I don't know what I'm going to do. He could have done anything else. I didn't give a s.h.i.t about the inheritance. I could make my own way in the world. The company doesn't really mean anything to me. I'm proud of the work I do for it of course, but that's it. But the charity, that's a low blow. Teach the Children is my baby. I'm so G.o.d d.a.m.ned proud of those kids, so proud of what everyone working there does. I can't believe my father would stoop so low to take the one thing he controls that I value more than everything else he owns. Actually, correct that, I can believe it. I can absolutely believe it."

I could tell as he spoke that Mark was going from shocked to angry. The determination, the confidence was back in his voice, and I was glad to hear it.

"We're going to find a way to get the charity back, Mark," I told him.

"You know what Caroline? You're right. We absolutely are."

"Tell me what you need me to do. I'll do anything to help us get the charity back. There has to be something."

"You're right, there has to. I don't know what it is yet, I have no idea, but we will find it. We'll find something. We have to."

Making plans to meet that night in Mark's office, he left mine and went back to his own. Finding that I couldn't concentrate on my work, I decided to go down the street and grab a coffee from the place I liked. I sat at the table against the window, watching people go by and thinking about what Mark had told me. I felt absolutely devastated for him. It wasn't fair at all what his father had done. That charity was what Mark lived for, he cared so incredibly much about what they were doing. To take it away from his was cruel, it was then that I realized just to what extent Mark's father was angry at Mark no longer taking the abuse anymore.