Free Hold My Hand by Paloma Beck Page A

sweet Aubrey, yes. I
wish to own each part of you. I wish for you to be completely
mine.” William spoke to me but my focus was divided now. My body
consumed by his ministrations. I felt the building of a tension and
knew I could snap at any minute. I wanted that release so badly and
I found myself moving against his finger.
    “Say yes to this,” William’s
words washed through me. “Say yes so I can let you come apart on my
fingers.” It took only those words to let go of my humiliation that
this would turn me on. Perhaps I was bad but in that moment, I
couldn’t bring myself to care. I only wanted to come.
    “Yes sir,” I said.
    And then, came I did, like
waves shattering over the shore, one after the other. William
continued to run his fingers in and out, back and forth, in and out
until I nearly begged him to stop. My knees had grown weak and I
leaned forward to brace myself on his shoulders.
    William reached towards my
face and pulled his hand away to show me the tear on his finger.
I’d been crying. I didn’t know. He held his finger up in the light
so the tear caught beautiful colors and he smiled. “Thank you for
this. It’s a gift I will treasure.” He placed the finger in his
mouth and sucked.
    *****
    On Sunday morning, I left
William to attend mass. He dropped me off and planned to spend the
few hours I needed for my weekly ritual at his office before coming
back for me. We talked in great lengths yesterday about everything
from politics to religion. I was surprised to hear he’d been raised
Catholic just as I had been though he admitted to not having
attended mass in more years than he was willing to dwell on though.
I couldn’t imagine a life where I didn’t go to church. That time
each week was sacred to me.
    As I entered the church, I
kept my head bowed so others wouldn’t attempt to interact with me.
I found a pew in the far corner, drew the kneeler down and bowed
before beginning my prayers. Though I recited the prayers I’d
memorized since just a young child, I couldn’t actually recall what
I was saying. I was lost in worry, my thoughts flying across the
new adventure on which I’ve started.
    I felt led toward William by
some force I couldn’t explain. Would it be wrong to thank God for
him? I’d found happiness in a most unlikely place, in this
Dominance and submission William introduced me to. I recognized
what William has asked of me might not be what some would profess
as following the church’s teachings and yet at the same time, I
wanted to argue the point.
    The organist began her
musical prelude and the familiar melody of Pachelbel’s cannon swept
me away. Each chord loosened the tension in my shoulders and I take
refreshing deep breaths. Oh William, how do I reconcile what I’ve
discovered about myself through you? I’ve taken enough religion
classes during my schooling to quote the bible and defend the very
idea of being taken in hand and cared for -being dominated- by a
man. Yet the emotional pull was beyond reason. I simply wanted
this.
    I breathed in the aroma of
burning incense, the familiar scent of candle wax and the smell of
the old wooden pew I sat on. The familiarity comforted me and I
found myself relaxing further still. Perhaps my reservations about
this new relationship weren’t with my religious beliefs but I
wondered why then I was struggling with these feelings of shame.
Why was I wondering if what I desired was wrong?
    I was no closer to solving
my problem as the priest processed in and took the altar to begin
mass. I focused on the formality of the mass, feeling safe within
its structure as I allowed everything else to fade away.
    *****
    I expected to return to
William’s house but instead, he drove through the city in the
direction of Emerson College where I’d spent four years earning my
bachelor’s degree in literature before pursuing a master’s degree
from Boston College. I wondered what we were doing but chose not to
ask. I sat and waited for