Mind to Bend: Chapter 25

“Seraphina?” His smooth voice pulls me out of the relaxing trance I’d slipped into while lazing on the plush couch in the salon.

My gaze trails over the stunning landscape portraits before finding the center of my world.

“Shane,” I coo back, thrilled to be the object of his attention.

After our session the night before and an amazing night’s sleep, Shane cooked me breakfast in bed and cued a film on a pull-down projector screen that took up the entire wall. I’d spent the morning watching myself orgasm and learning how to ride dick.

The experience left me rubbery but satisfied. Then, Shane talked me through another session. I napped, let the sun warm my face, and napped again. Even after I woke, I lingered,enjoying myself. I had never felt so unburdened.

Shane leans over the couch, grabs my face, and kisses me with sweet deep presses.

“Get dressed, pretty Angel. I have plans for the two of us.”

I flush at the compliment but don’t bother questioning his command. Thus far, I’ve loved his surprises, and he’s never asked for more than I’m capable of. I rise to my feet and stretch my body for his inspection. My cheeks heat as he looks me up and down and says, “Very good, now put on something pretty but warm before I smack that ass.”

I squeak, a little too excited by the prospect. I won’t misbehave, though. I’d rather he spank me because I asked. Taking the initiative I know he wants, I head back to the room I’ve been staying in. He follows a step behind.

We step into the room, and I gesture broadly. The fine silk robe he gave me last night hangs around my shoulders, and as I spread my arms, I also display my breasts. His heated gaze warms me, and I have an errant thought about that being bad, but it doesn’t stick around.

“What am I supposed to wear? You didn’t give me a chance to pack.” We both know that he stole me away and that I wanted it. There’s no use arguing our path.

“Take a look.” He nods toward the closet, and I follow his lead. I’m a little nervous that the whole thing is going to be full, but he proves how suited we are to one another when I see the moderate selection of clothing. I finger the rack, appreciating the sensible options and the elaborate ones.

“Thank you,” I hum as I touch all the beautiful textures.

“You are most welcome.”

A long black dress with a bright floral pattern catches my eye, and I pick it up. “Can I wear this?”

“Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Then I insist.”

He waves for me to continue, and I’m unbothered as I drop the robe and allow him a full view of my body. The dress is softer than anything I’ve ever owned and tingles my skin as it slips over me. He hands me a pair of matching silk slippers. With a strong yet gentle grip, he turns me to the mirror.

“What do you think?” he asks me with a feline smile.

“What do you think?” I counter. His approval means everything to me.

“I picked everything in this closet, Seraphina. Nothing in it will displease me.” He chuckles. “And today is all about what you think.”

“I’m beautiful,” I murmur.

He kisses my shoulder.

“Yes, you are.”

Once I’m dressed, he walks me back through the house and out onto an elaborate stone patio.

“Wow,” I breathe.

There must be a hundred candles illuminating the space, as well as a round brick contraption with a chimney and flames dancing inside. A small lagoon-shaped pool sits beside a hot tub with luxurious furniture surrounding it.

“Do you like it?” He offers me a sweet smile, lacking his usual calm assuredness.

“I love it,” I correct. “There’s a pool?”

“Three, actually. This is the smallest, but that’s not why we’re here.” He points to what must be a barbecue of some kind. “It’s too cold for outdoor swimming, but we can check out the indoor pool later if you like.”

I think about it for a minute, trying to assimilate the idea that this one gorgeous pool wasn’t the impressive one.

“I haven’t been swimming since I was a kid. I love the water.” The realization is almost shocking. There are things I love.

“Later, then,” he promises easily as he leads over to a table I hadn’t seen.

He flips a switch, and an outdoor light turns on, revealing the contents. Dough, tomato sauce, and more toppings than I can imagine. In fact, I have no clue what several of them are. There are weird things like candy and chunks of cake, and bottles of syrups. I run my hand along the table, taking it all in.

“Have you ever made brick oven pizza?”

“I’ve never even had it.”

“Even better.”

He steps up behind me, pressing himself against me and pulling the last hint of chill out of my skin. His hands come to rest next to mine on the table, and he helps me through the process of stretching the dough, applying the sauce, and choosing toppings.

“Tim likes pepperoni,” I comment, forgetting how much mentions of him irritate Shane.

He picks up the bowl of pepperoni and chucks it off the patio and into the woods. The jump or yelp I expect never comes, and I realize it’s because I’m not afraid of Shane and know he’s not threatening to throw me next. When Tim starts punching walls, it’s only a matter of time before his aggression works it’s way out on me.

“Fuck Tim, Angel!” Shane grabs my cheeks in his hands, turning me to him and pulling me out of my depressing thoughts. “We’ll make as many pizzas as we need to until we figure out what you like.”

I giggle at that and turn my face to kiss his thumb.

“I definitely can’t eat enough to try all of them.”

“I might have something that can help with that.” There’s a teasing glint in his gaze.

“Oh?”

“You’ll see.”

We’re adding some fancy french sounding mushrooms and a sausage that’s way too old to be good for you when I ask, “What are the sweet toppings for?”

“Dessert pizza.”

“Is that a thing?” I gasp in true delight.

“It’s a thing, and after this, you’re going to lose your mind.”

He pulls something out from behind his ear. At first, I think it’s a cigarette, but he sparks it against the fireplace, and I instantly realize that it’s not tobacco. He takes a deep drag, holds it for a moment, then blows it out. The smoke coils up and away from us.

“You want me to smoke weed!?” I squeak, sounding exactly like I did when I was sixteen, and one of the kids from town offered.

“If it makes you feel any better, it’s not only legal but has plenty of medicinal uses. I am your doctor.”

“You’re my psychiatrist,” I correct. “And I’m starting to think there may be a conflict of interest.”

“You can fire me if you like, but I’m still going to smoke this, and you can join me if you like.”

It only takes a few minutes for the pizza to cook. I’m watching him turn it with the giant paddle and smoke, trying to decide if I should take the plunge or not. I’m lacking all of my normal baggage, freer than I’ve ever been, and rationally, I can’t think of a single reason why I should turn down trying pot and eating fancy pizza.

When the pizza is ready, he places it on the counter to cool. I’m salivating at the scent of it, but it’s still bubbling and would burn the heck out of my mouth. Shane chooses one of the lawn chairs and lays back, kicking up his legs and taking another hit.

“Come on, pretty Angel, let’s see if you like weed. Then, we’re going to eat pizza.”

I roll my eyes as I climb on and straddle him. I’m still undecided, but I’m not about to refuse his touch. The moment I’m in his lap, the smell is almost overwhelming but not bad. I’d always heard weed smelled like skunks, and it does a bit, but I’m surprised by the almost lemon-like brightness and freshness.

“It smells good.”

“Mm,” he agrees, “I like this strain.”

“Do you smoke often?”

“Once every couple of months? It’s nice to get out of your head sometimes.”

That does sound nice. I’ve never even had alcohol. We’re not catholic, so I’ve never tasted wine. Despite Tim drinking, it enrages him if I suggest I might. There’s so much I haven’t done. So much I don’t know.

Shane holds it up in front of me. “Are you ready?”

“I don’t know.”

“What’s holding you back? If you really don’t want to, it’s not a big deal.”

He pulls it back to his lips.

“It’s kind of stupid.”

“Not a single thing about you is stupid, Angel. Now, tell me what’s on your mind.”

I sigh. “I’m thinking about my father and the things he used to tell me about the Devil and…” I stare off into the distance, not continuing and hoping he will make everything better for me like he always does.

“Do you believe in God, Angel?”

His free hand toys with the lengths of my hair, and I stare at the sky as I consider my answer.

“I’m not sure anymore, but sometimes I do.” When I’m looking at the stars and sitting on your lap.

He pauses, taking another drag. It’s getting toward the end, but I’d guess I have another few minutes to decide.

“Do you believe the Devil creates?”

His perfect lips form a circle as he exhales.

That was a much simpler question to answer, “No, he corrupts.”

“Then this isn’t the problem,” he waves the joint in front of us. “It’s just one more thing for you to decide if you enjoy.”

I’m relieved by his answer and nod, more eager than I thought I’d be. He takes a deep puff before pressing his lips to mine and exhaling slowly. I follow his lead and breathe in whatever he wants to give me, so much more than a little smoke.

We try every topping on that table, laughing like crazy people. I’ve never felt like this, and it’s not just the weed. I’m only a little out of it, a little silly. I thought this was going to be insane and transformative, but really it’s just nice. Is there anything my father and Tim aren’t wrong about?

Shane goes inside at one point and grabs a blanket to drape around my shoulders. I’m lying on a couch looking up at the stars when a handsome face pops into my line of sight.

“Pax!” I startle, too stoned to make any sense of why he’s standing above me.

“Shush, I’m only here to check he hasn’t killed you yet.” He places a finger to his lips, bidding me to be silent. I blink once, and he’s gone. By the time I sit up and look around me, I’m not sure I ever saw him at all.