Striking a Balance (Thalia Book 2) (The Thalia Series) Read online

  “Yes, sir.” She shivered as his fingers slid back and forth.

  “Good girl. I need ye to tell me something, and I need an honest answer.”

  “Yes, Master Kalen?” She felt the tension in her belly increase as his touch slid across her pussy, her eyes drifting toward James.

  “Only pay attention to me.” His fingers moved in rhythmic pulses against her clit, and she felt her hips jerk with each movement. She bit down on her lip to stifle a whimper of pleasure as her eyes met his.

  “Uh huh? Yes, sir?” Thalia was quickly rising to the edge. His grip on her hair, his sharp control, the dream, James edging her last night and this morning, and now Kalen touching her... it didn’t matter that everyone was staring she was about to shatter.

  “In yer own words, why are ye here?” He didn’t let up, instead his hand slipped underneath her useless panties and she let out a cry of pleasure as she arched forward into his touch, her legs threatening to buckle.

  Just a little more.

  “I want to be right for him, Master Kalen.” Her voice was so breathy, the need changing her voice until she was almost begging.

  “Be specific, Thalia.” Two fingers dipped inside her and she arched up, but he slammed her heels back to the floor with a tug on her hair.

  “God! I- I want to find a balance between staying his submissive and - Jesus Christ! - and being normal! Having a life! Being able to go outside! PLEASE let me come, Master Kalen!” She was so close, her entire focus was in the heat between her legs, the coiling tension around the base of her spine. She’d been waiting and waiting for release. The presence of anyone else in the room had faded and she was almost -

  “No.” His hands left her and she swayed violently towards him, but he caught her shoulder easily and held on until she steadied. His eyes were compassionate, but he wasn’t going to let her come.

  Thalia almost cried over that.

  “But I’m glad ye feel that way, we just talked and that’s what we all want for ye too.” Over Kalen’s shoulder was James and she felt her lips part to call out for him, but he just smiled a little at her. Although he looked tense, he wasn’t angry that she had begged for Kalen, and that calmed her despite the unclaimed orgasm that had the muscles of her lower belly tight with need. Next to James was a beautiful redhead in a skirt suit who was watching her carefully. Thalia’s staring was cut short when Kalen’s voice boomed again. “Kneel!”

  Thalia slid to her knees on reflex, and she realized she was almost directly in front of Kalen. “Yer already doing so well, Thalia. I don’t want ye to fret. Just keep it up.” He brushed his two fingers against her lips and then as she opened her mouth he slid them over her tongue so she could clean her taste from him. Thalia whimpered with the reminder of her impending pleasure that had been yanked back at the last second. He ran his fingers across her mouth as he took his hand away.

  “Good girl.” His hand brushed her cheek before he stepped to the side. “See how smooth that was, girls? She didn’t just drop to the floor. Yer turns. Kneel, all of ye.”

  Julie and Analiese slid from the couches with grace. Chloe and Lauren were practically a comedy of errors as they tried so hard not to touch each other that they ended up almost entangled each time they went to kneel in the narrow space between the couches. They finally managed just as Marisol dramatically uncrossed one leg and stood. She took several long strides past the other girls, ending directly next to Thalia. She could feel her eyes staring down at her and Thalia had an urge to trip her; but she didn’t get the chance.

  Marisol went down on one knee first, letting her dress expose her completely before dropping her other knee into a kneel. Before that, Thalia would have thought there was no way to kneel before someone rudely, but Marisol had managed it. And judging by the lecture on submission and how ease and grace play into it, Kalen wasn’t ignorant of Marisol’s little ploys.

  The afternoon flew by with them changing into workout gear to run laps around the huge lawn, followed by high intensity cardio led by Julie. Her chipper voice encouraging and laughing through round after round of exhausting moves. Thalia would have said she was in pretty good shape until Julie had them doing sprints with cardio bursts of various exercises.

  Dinner was full of laughter, everyone was spaced around the long table and food appeared from the side from an unseen kitchen. Julie and Maggie laughed and told explicit stories from times Julie had been at Purgatory. Kalen occasionally piped up with his booming voice, and although James had been tense most of the day he started to relax and laugh too. He would lean over occasionally and kiss her neck, or whisper commentary on Kalen’s history that had her giggling through dinner. It was the first time she’d been out to eat with him where she didn’t feel panic. She couldn’t make herself talk loud enough to be heard, but neither did Analiese. She sat in Nick’s lap throughout the meal and they whispered to each other, kissing and teasing. Thalia wanted to get time to talk to the quiet girl she had found out was from Germany. Chloe and Lauren sat on either side of Brad who was as loud and boisterous as the two of them. He obviously needed the energy to keep up with the girls. Near the other end of the group were Marisol and Ethan. Marisol wasn’t eating, and Ethan looked like he was attempting to bore holes in the table with his stare. The level of uncomfortable silence between them was leeching across the room by the time dinner was drawn to a close.

  Kalen’s rule of no orgasms without permission meant sleeping was a nightmare. James would always kiss her before bed, making her knees weak and a moan slip out before yanking himself back. His self-control was going to drive her crazy. Especially, since Thalia’s mind summoned up everything imaginable to torment her once she was asleep - leaving her wound up and her thighs sticky each morning. And she didn’t get any more early morning touches from James.

  Two days passed of rinse and repeat. Morning gossip with the girls, practicing holding positions, discussing proper responses, watching Kalen deliver punishments - primarily to Chloe and Lauren, who had no self control. Their pretty gasps and pleading apologies had her squirming and she absolutely understood what Maggie had meant about watching.

  By contrast, Thalia was pretty sure that Julie and Analiese were incapable of messing up - and somehow they could both still laugh and joke and act like normal people. Thalia envied them both for the ease with which they acted.

  Marisol was horrible, and Kalen didn’t punish her with a belt like he had Chloe and Lauren, but she had earned a particularly devious punishment by mouthing off again. With her hands bound she had to kneel on a mat made of large beads. At first it hadn’t seemed to bother her, her chin defiantly in the air. Quickly the pressure on her knees and shins had her begging to be allowed up. Kalen had ignored her while talking with the rest of the group and their Doms about open communication – that is until she had sincerely started crying and shouted “Red! Red!”. Ethan and Kalen had immediately helped her up, Marisol had collapsed into Ethan’s arms, and Julie had mumbled under her breath.

  Julie was convinced that Marisol was only with Ethan for his money, and Chloe, Lauren, and even Analiese agreed. The more she watched her, the more she agreed with them. Marisol was defiant, aggressive, and disrespectful. She didn’t accept her punishments no matter how well deserved, and had called out her safe word in almost no time at all. Thalia was angry with herself for judging the other girl, though. Who was she to say what Marisol’s threshold for pain was? Marisol may be rude, and probably a gold digger, but Thalia couldn’t fault her for using her safe word. Although it only took one glance around the room to see that Julie, for sure, didn’t believe she’d needed it.

  On the third day it was finally Thalia’s turn for therapy. Lars had waved her down while she was running laps with Analiese – who was insanely quick and was still able to talk while Thalia was pretty sure she may drop into a dead faint trying to keep pace. Thalia could run a long time at a decent gait, Analiese was just fast. She’d never been more grateful to see the young Dom-to-be
as when she got to go back into the dormitory and follow Lars down a hallway while catching her breath.

  One of the bedrooms on the first floor had long ago apparently been converted into Ailsa’s on site office. Complete with waiting chairs outside the door. Lars smiled at her and turned to walk off, but he stopped. “I have advice for you, if that’s okay?” His accent was thick, Julie had told her he spoke Dutch, but Thalia couldn’t have picked that language out of a line up at all. Thalia nodded and smiled at him. He gave a half smile back, his eyes looking her over as he spoke, “I have not been at Purgatory long, but... be honest with Ailsa, she can help. It’s always bad if you lie to her, okay? Nothing will go good if you lie.”

  “Yes, sir. I won’t lie, I promise.” Thalia smiled at him again and he nodded and turned to go back down the hall. Probably doing whatever Kalen had on his to-do list next. She sat down on the floor to stretch and then stayed there as she waited, tucking her legs underneath her as she brought her heart rate down.

  “THEY’RE ALL CRAZY!” Marisol’s Spanish accent rang out through the door, making Thalia jump. Soft murmurs came in response, but she couldn’t make them out.

  “I refuse to be some trained pet!” There she went again on that rant. If Ethan was anything like James, he didn’t want that. And if she hated this so much, why didn’t she just leave? No one would miss her.

  “Why would Ethan want this? I thought he loved me! Have you asked him? Have any of you even asked him whether or not he loves me more than this bullshit?!” Marisol’s voice was grating, and her words were prideful and manipulative. A better question might be: Why was she with someone who was dominant if she didn’t want who they were?

  What a bitch.

  There were more murmurs and then a screech of frustration. After a few days around Marisol, Thalia could imagine her stomping her foot and throwing her hands up.

  The door opened and Ailsa’s soft voice came through, “I really want ye to think this through, Marisol. Ye do not seem open to this or happy with it at all.”

  Marisol huffed and stomped out in her workout clothes that looked like they were made by some designer. Black running pants hugged every inch of her long legs, clinging close down to her ankle. A light, airy top barely hid the t-back black sports bra underneath. Her dark eyes landed on Thalia who immediately dropped her gaze to the floor hoping to avoid her.

  It didn’t work.

  “Happy?! How could I be happy like that?!” Marisol must have gestured towards her and it made Thalia flinch. “She’s just kneeling on the floor waiting for her Master,” she sneered the word that Thalia held with such care, “Waiting for someone to tell her what to do! I’m NOT weak like that, Ailsa, I’m no one’s slave.”

  Weak?

  “For the last time, Ethan does not want a full time slave.” Ailsa spoke calmly and evenly.

  “But -” Marisol started, and Ailsa immediately stopped her.

  “I’ve heard enough today, Marisol. Yer time is up, please return to physical training, we’ll talk again in a few days.”

  Marisol burst out with a little frustrated scream and then started muttering in Spanish as she stomped down the hallway. Thalia stayed kneeling, but as the silence stretched she tilted her head up to find Ailsa leaning against the doorframe watching her. She made a quiet sound as her dark eyes moved over her, analyzing and calm. “Tell me, how long would ye kneel there if no one told ye to get up?” Her accent was thick, like Kalen’s, but she sounded curious, interested – not judging or demanding.

  “I don’t know?” Thalia’s voice cracked when she answered. The bitter taste that Marisol’s words had left in her mouth crashed against the undeniable physical representation of her submission. Kneeling for no reason next to a row of waiting chairs. Great start to therapy. She wanted to get up, and correct it, but Lars’ words rebounded in her head. The truth was Thalia didn’t know how long she would have knelt in front of Ailsa, and she rarely sat on chairs anymore without direction. Thalia knew that was weird, wasn’t that why she was here?

  “Thalia, come inside, let’s talk.” Ailsa just walked back in the room, and after a moment Thalia rose and followed her in. Ailsa sat down in a chair next to a desk, and she sat down on the love seat Ailsa indicated across from her. Kalen’s sister spoke again immediately, “I want to talk about Marcus.”

  Thalia flinched and she looked up to see Ailsa analyzing her again.

  “Does it bother ye for me to say his name?”

  “No.” Thalia licked her lips and grabbed a pillow on the couch, tucking it into her lap. “I’ve said his - Marcus’ - name. I’m fine.”

  “That’s good.” Ailsa made notes in a journal she had balanced on the arm of the chair. “I’m glad ye can discuss him, because we need to.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Thalia took a breath trying not to get sucked into the memories Marcus’ name brought up.

  “Call me Ailsa, please. I’m not a Domme, I’m just a therapist, and I’m here for ye. Not Kalen, not James. Alright?”

  “Alright.” Thalia felt her hands tightening on the edge of the pillow, and Ailsa looked up at her. “Ailsa, I understand.”

  “Wonderful. So tell me about Marcus, what happened?” Her voice was calm, interested, open.

  “He took me to his house, and he -” Thalia stumbled over how to describe everything Marcus had done. “And Marcus, he trained me to be a slave, so he could sell me.”

  “That’s it?”

  “Yeah.” Thalia’s knuckles were white as she gripped the pillow, her voice was tense and she really wanted to leave. This was not how she imagined therapy, shouldn’t there be a warm up? A discussion of her mother’s death? Her neglectful father? Her lack of ambition? Anything but diving head first into the worst week of her entire life?

  “Thalia.” Ailsa was leaning forward, it clearly wasn’t the first time she’d said her name. “Breathe, Thalia.”

  Thalia gasped a breath and realized she hadn’t been breathing, and once she started the rapid, shallow breaths wouldn’t stop.

  “Thalia, with me.” Ailsa started to breathe slowly and evenly, and she made herself mimic her while trying to calm down. A few minutes later she was breathing slower and steadier and Ailsa was writing in the journal.

  “Does that happen often?” Ailsa glanced up at her.

  No lies, right? “Yes. It happens.”

  “When you discuss Marcus?” Ailsa asked it, and Thalia felt her muscles tense.

  “No, but it happens a lot.” Thalia hated it. It happened all the time. It was why she was useless outside of the flat, it was why James had brought her here.

  “Hmm. I see.” More notes in her journal. “I have a relatively good idea of what happened with Marcus, I won’t make ye detail it for me unless there is a specific event ye want to discuss.” Ailsa looked up at her, “Ye understand that none of what happened with him was consensual, right?”

  Thalia was silent, biting on her thumbnail and staring at the floor. Memories were flickering through her mind at rapid speed.

  “Thalia, do you understand that ye never consented to it? That yer not responsible in any way?” Ailsa was using therapist voice. Scottish accent or not, therapists always sounded the same when they asked questions.

  Thalia clenched her eyes shut and pressed the heels of her palms against them. “You don’t understand.”

  “What don’t I understand?” More therapist voice.

  How can you explain something so horrible? Confess to the worst things you’ve ever done?

  But James had told her to work with Ailsa, Lars had told her she had to be honest for it to work, so she would. No matter how terrible.

  “I did consent, Ailsa.” Thalia bit her lip against the urge to scream, or throw up. “I didn’t just consent, I begged him.”

  “Under what circumstances, Thalia? Tell me about a time when ye gave him consent.” How could Ailsa be so blasé after such a confession? Maybe being a therapist made you good at hiding your disgust.


  “There were a lot of times.” Thalia mumbled, dropping her hands back to the pillow in her lap to stare at them.

  “Tell me one? I want to help ye, so please tell me.”

  Thalia looked up at Ailsa and saw such a gentle expression on her face that she found herself answering. “The second day there he had me tied to a bed. And he had, he left me there with a vibrator, you know, in me. And he left me there for hours until I begged for him to come back, until I called him Master. I begged for him to come back and I knew what he’d do.”

  “So what was the alternative?”

  “What?” Thalia felt the heat of a blush after her confession, but confusion overwhelmed her embarrassment.

  “What would have happened if ye had refused to call for him? To ‘beg for him’ as ye said?”