How to Discipline Your Vampire(108)

            My heart was angry at my mind, and so my body simply shut down, revolting against my poor decision.

            I pushed him away. There was part of me that knew it was inevitable, since I was a confirmed self-saboteur. Then there was the part of me that tried to save me from myself.

            But she failed.

            I did tell William I was going to change—and trust me, I planned on it. Just, every time I got around to checking for full-time jobs, I just wussed out. I assumed they’d hire some alum who just got out of school, or some friend of a friend who was owed a favor.

            I didn’t think I was worthy. Technically, I was right about that. I wasn’t worthy of what William wanted me to be.

            I was chickenshit about changing my life, and he was right to leave.

            My body nearly convulsed at the realization. He was gone. He had sped out my door so fast I couldn’t chase him. I was left breathless, stunned, and heartbroken.

            What do I even do now? I can’t imagine sceneing with anyone else. Nobody will have the kind of attention to detail William possesses. And as for physicality, God, the idea of someone soft and warm touching me made my stomach curdle.

            William had ruined me for other men.

            It’s not that I thought he was bluffing about the importance of changing my life; I just thought I had time to get used to the idea. Sometimes I was a bit of a procrastinator.

            Fuck, after seeing my detailed plans for the next ten years, I’d imagine he got it in his head that I was always that thorough. I headed over to the pile of planbooks and thumbed through my sexual future. Lifelong best friends who finally fell for each other—William would have been fantastic at that one. A fashion designer and a model—I couldn’t begin to imagine the kind of outfits he’d have Harvey whip up for that.

            I put the books back down with a sad thump. Those scenes would remain in those books forever, and never get checked off. They would never get a recipe card.

            And then, an idea dawned on me.

            I could win William back. I just had to prove myself to him.

            I threw on some workout clothes and headed to the gym.

            As I hopped onto the elliptical, I opened my phone’s little electronic notepad and started jotting down ideas. I bobbed up and down on the machine and took inventory of my life.

            Job: I needed a steady one. I downloaded an app that showed only teacher positions. Fantastic. When I got home, I’d send out as many applications as I could find.

            Relationships: I needed to tie up some loose ends. One thing I remembered about my mother was that she loved recipe books but she never cooked. Maybe I’d hit the bookstore and mail her one with a note, and maybe bake some cookies and send those along, too.

            Mental health: I needed to talk to a professional. My forays into psychiatrists’ offices usually ended with an angry doctor telling me my fetish was destructive. So as the elliptical cranked up to level three, I logged on to the Flog Blog and researched kink-friendly therapists. Found four names before I stepped off the machine.

            I wiped my sweaty brow with a towel and opened up my calendar. I was going to give myself a month to get my shit together. For William, and for me. We were worth the work.



            “What is your approach to discipline?” he asked, leaning back in his chair and examining my reaction. It was one month to the day of my decision, and from where I sat, things looked pretty good.

            I folded my hands placidly in front of me and went on about my philosophy. “I’m a strong believer in the firm-but-fair approach. I will not tolerate disobedience of any kind, but in return, I reciprocate with enthusiastic approval. I prefer solving problems together on the spot. I also think that this approach requires mutual respect, so I give as much as I receive.”