Yasmin:
My heart was racing, her narrow eyes swivelling back and forth between the both of us. My tongue was dry and every word I tried to say came out as a quiet puff of air. âAnswer me, Yasmin!â âI-I-IâŠâ âForgive me but I wanted to talk to Sister Yasmin alone.ââ His deep voice rumbled in my ears and I felt my knees weaken. My name⊠the way it sounded on his lips was perfect and I turned to look at him and for a brief second, Sister Gwen was forgotten. ââShe was such a help to my mother and even though we didnât do the rites due to my grandmotherâs untimely passing, I am sure her prayers were enough to get her soul to the pearly gates.â For a while, Sister Gwen said nothing, her lips parted, her gaze swimming in those stormy blue eyes of his. As advanced as she was in age, she was helpless to the dark aura that haloed him, that pulled people into him. âI-I⊠Yes⊠Yes, sheâŠâ She fumbled her words and clamped her mouth shut, taking in a deep breath. â...Sister Yasmin is one of our best nuns. I am glad that you were happy with the prayers she gave for your grandmother. May her soul rest in peace.â My jaw was slack but I closed it and gulped hard. Me? One of our best nuns? Since when? I looked at Jacob, my eyes wide with disbelief, but he didnât meet my gaze. Sister Gwen was still captured in his dark spell, unable to pull away from his handsome, stoic face. âForgive Sister Gwen. I understand that our meeting place is⊠inappropriate, but I really wanted to thank her.â âOf- Of course. Your thanks are well appreciated. God bless you, BrotherâŠâ âJacob,â he completed, his own name like sinful silk on his dark voice. âJacob West.â âBrother Jacob. Yes⊠Uhmm⊠Sister Yasmin has some⊠uhmm⊠duties to attend to.â âI understand.ââ He met my gaze and my heart skipped a beat, my body trembled and hummed at the same time. ââShe is such a⊠good girl.â Those words⊠Sister Gwen was here! âYes, she is a really good girl,â Sister Gwen agreed and flashed me a faux smile. âAnd she should go get her chores done.â That was my cue and I hurried away, my hands pulling my habit a little higher above my ankles so that I could run faster. His eyes flashed in my mind, his perfume, from when he pinned me to the wall, clung to my habit and forced his scent into my lungs, to become one with me. I hurried into the church and collapsed against one of the pews, breathless and drenched in sweat. I just need to⊠âYasmin!â My rest was short-lived. I should have known that she would be behind me. âSister Gwen.â I spun around just in time to catch her storming towards me, eyes wide, hand raised. I prepared for the worst and squeezed my eyes shut, stiffening my whole body for the blow, but for a while, I felt nothing. My eyes fluttered open and caught a glimpse of her standing in front of me, heaving angrily. âOpen those eyes, stupid girl!â âYes, Sister.â And I could see her, frown, twitching palm and all. Why didnât she hit me? âThe next time you are seen with a man in such a⊠place. I will make sure you regret it,â she hissed. A shiver ran down my spine. I knew those words⊠the threat of being sent down there in the lonely, damp dark. âDo I make myself clear?â she barked, grabbing my ear and tugging, her nails cutting into my earlobe. I tried not to scream, my eyes clouded with tears. I tried to ease the pressure of her grip with my hands but they were still tightly wrapped in bandages. I doubt I would have been able to do anything even if they werenât burned. As much as it hurt, I deserved it. I shouldnât have been alone with him. It was a sin and I risked tainting my purity. Sister Gwen was just trying to keep me from making a mistake and indulging in such an unforgivable sin. She was a good Sister. ~~~ I sat on the edge of my bed in my nightwear, my long black curly hair hanging free over my shoulders and back. The moon was out and as I tried to pray, I could hear Jacobâs voice in my head. I flinched, fighting to keep it out, fighting to keep the sin at bay, but his voice became louder till it was an audible whisper in my ear. âShe is a⊠good girlâŠâ The way his eyes flashed at me when he said those words, the look of desire I had seen in them⊠no one had ever looked at me that way before. Like I was an object that needed to be obtained. My eyes fluttered open and I caught sight of my habit hanging on the chair. The room was dim, with a single candle illuminating the best it could, and I saw something poking out from the layers of blue and white. I strode up to it cautiously and touched it, only for it to crinkle against my fingers and fall to the floor. It all came back to me now and I picked it up, my hands shaking, my nose filled with the smell of his perfume that seemed to come from the paper. âI will read it and throw it out,â I said under my breath, slowly unfolding the crisp quarters to see a contract. âProposal for a Dominant and Submissive Relationship?â The candle flickered and I moved closer to the golden glow to see the letters better. Dominant? Submissive? Hard limits? Soft Limits? The words flew right by me and when I got to the bottom, I understood only what he had told me when he cornered me in the courtyard. He wanted me to be his submissive. What was a submissive? I understood he was to be this âdominantâ but, what was that too? And why all these limits? Were they things I wasnât supposed to do? A deep breath escaped my lips and I took the paper close to the flame and held it there, inches away from the bright light. I had read it, now it was time to throw it out, but⊠The flame ignited a tiny bit corner and the embers glowed orange but were soon smothered to a cold grey. I couldnât do it. I couldnât burn the paper in the flame. I didnât know why but I just couldnât. I pulled my hand back and looked at the paper, my eyes catching âMr. Jacob Westâ and âdominantâ in the same line. â...if itâs truly what you want, you know where to find meâŠâ His voice echoed in my ear. How would I know that this is truly what I wanted? I didnât understand a thing. And besides, why would I want this? Why would I want to be his âsubmissiveâ? His submissive⊠I tested the words on my tongue. To be called âhisâ, to belong to him⊠the thought of it triggered goosebumps all over my skin. My fingers clutched the rosary that hung around my neck. I was no oneâs but the Lordâs, I was the apple of his eyes, but those eyes, those tempest blue, looked at me differentlyâwith want, with desire, that made my heart flutter. Maybe, just maybe, finding out what âhis submissiveâ meant wouldnât hurt at all. Just once. Just enough⊠then I could let it go.Yasmin: Tears streamed down my face as I staggered up the stairs. My finger gripped my tummy and low groans rumbled in my throat. It was over. It was finally over. Twenty-one days of no food and water was finally over and I felt like I walked on the thin line between life and death. Dad said that fasting made you stronger, drew you closer to the Lord but I felt weaker than water and close to the Lord⊠Yes, I was. On the verge of death, close to meeting Him. It would have been bearable if I didn't get my period yesterday. Bleeding and hungry, my womb and stomach were out to get me. There was never a combination so terrible. My fingers ran on the cold stone walls of the convent as I willed myself to the dining room. Every stone step moved under my feet, each breath was a task. Arghhh⊠the pain was getting worse. My insides were pulling themselves apart. Lord, why?! I stopped; my legs shook under me. I took a deep breath and that's when I smelled it. Cinnamon rolls! And was that⊠m
Yasmin: My breath got caught in my throat. My fingers curled and uncurled as anxiety seized my body, making everything stop. âI⊠Iâm sorry. I got⊠I got my period and I was really hungry and I didnâtâŠâ âAnd you didnât wait for the other sisters,â he cut in, glaring at me, his hands shaking at his side. âI have raised you in this place since the day you were born. You are twenty-one and you have been getting your period for the past eight years. You should be used to this! You should be stronger!â âI tried.ââ My composure shattered and hot tears streamed down my face. âI tried my best, Dad. I was in so much pain. I really tried.â His breathing was deep and heavy, his stare was unblinking and a glint flashed in his emerald eyes. âYou allowed the devil to mislead you. You listened to the desires of your flesh and that was why you ate. There is nothing more to it.â He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through his mouth. His voice dropped and made my breath catch. âBring me
Yasmin: This was it: 4th Grace Avenue. My heart skipped a beat and I nearly fell backwards trying to take in the tall and grand building. I did the sign of the cross on my chest and kissed my rosary. The priest had always warned us about the rich as well as places like this: havens for sin and evil, people tied to their wealth and their money, futile, buys them a spot in hell. The security guard let me in and led me to the front door. I gulped and looked at him. âWhat?â he snapped and I showed him my bandaged hands. His stiff face reddened slightly and his fist knocked heavily on the thick door that it made me jump. As soon as the door clicked from the inside, the security guard hurried to his post and left me alone. The door opened and an elderly maid stood at the post. Her smile was kind yet full of pain. âGood morning, I am Sister Yasmin. I came to see Mrs. West.â She nodded wordlessly and ushered me in. The home was beautifully furnished: chandeliers hung from the ceilings li
Yasmin: My jaw hung loosely, my eyes darted back and forth between angelic Mrs. West and this⊠man that she claimed to be her grandson. He walked over to her and handed her the pins and yarn while I still battled with the reality of it all. âYasmin, dear, do come and have a seat.â My heart jumped into my throat at the sound of her soft voice while her grandson stood next to her, glaring at me with those stormy blue eyes. âY-Yes, Maâam.â I hurried and took up the seat next to her and she handed me the yarn. My hands trembled as I made the loop, my eyes fixed on the crimson yarn but my body could feel his gaze. I couldnât resist and stole a side glance and immediately regretted it. Why was he looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong? Was my habit dirty? Thoughts whizzed by and my thighs clenched hard as a rush filled my insides. Why did I react to him like this? âYasmin, how about you tell us about yourself,â Mrs. West suggested cheerily. My stomach churned. I fought t
Yasmin: My sunken eyes stared back at me as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Sunday morning and the challenge it came with came faster than I wanted it to. The plastic bags and elastic bands lay on the table, staring at me, waiting for me to do the needful. A sigh escaped my lips and my sunken green eyes stared back at me from the mirror, tired but encouraging me to do the necessary. Slowly I unwrapped the bandages on my hands, wincing and whimpering as the soft material bruised and stung my tender, peeling skin. My hands didnât even look like mine anymore: pink patches of tender exposed skin and blisters covered my hands. I tested my fingers and instantly regretted it, as a blister popped open and began to ooze and bleed anew and all I could do was stand there and watch my crimson blood drip into the sink. Quickly, I wrapped it back up, powering through the pain and wrapping it all again in the plastic bags and bands so that I could shower. Just as I was about to take
Yasmin:My heart was racing, her narrow eyes swivelling back and forth between the both of us. My tongue was dry and every word I tried to say came out as a quiet puff of air.âAnswer me, Yasmin!ââI-I-IâŠââForgive me but I wanted to talk to Sister Yasmin alone.ââHis deep voice rumbled in my ears and I felt my knees weaken. My name⊠the way it sounded on his lips was perfect and I turned to look at him and for a brief second, Sister Gwen was forgotten.ââShe was such a help to my mother and even though we didnât do the rites due to my grandmotherâs untimely passing, I am sure her prayers were enough to get her soul to the pearly gates.âFor a while, Sister Gwen said nothing, her lips parted, her gaze swimming in those stormy blue eyes of his. As advanced as she was in age, she was helpless to the dark aura that haloed him, that pulled people into him.âI-I⊠Yes⊠Yes, sheâŠâShe fumbled her words and clamped her mouth shut, taking in a deep breath.â...Sister Yasmin is one of our best
Yasmin: My sunken eyes stared back at me as I looked at myself in the bathroom mirror. Sunday morning and the challenge it came with came faster than I wanted it to. The plastic bags and elastic bands lay on the table, staring at me, waiting for me to do the needful. A sigh escaped my lips and my sunken green eyes stared back at me from the mirror, tired but encouraging me to do the necessary. Slowly I unwrapped the bandages on my hands, wincing and whimpering as the soft material bruised and stung my tender, peeling skin. My hands didnât even look like mine anymore: pink patches of tender exposed skin and blisters covered my hands. I tested my fingers and instantly regretted it, as a blister popped open and began to ooze and bleed anew and all I could do was stand there and watch my crimson blood drip into the sink. Quickly, I wrapped it back up, powering through the pain and wrapping it all again in the plastic bags and bands so that I could shower. Just as I was about to take
Yasmin: My jaw hung loosely, my eyes darted back and forth between angelic Mrs. West and this⊠man that she claimed to be her grandson. He walked over to her and handed her the pins and yarn while I still battled with the reality of it all. âYasmin, dear, do come and have a seat.â My heart jumped into my throat at the sound of her soft voice while her grandson stood next to her, glaring at me with those stormy blue eyes. âY-Yes, Maâam.â I hurried and took up the seat next to her and she handed me the yarn. My hands trembled as I made the loop, my eyes fixed on the crimson yarn but my body could feel his gaze. I couldnât resist and stole a side glance and immediately regretted it. Why was he looking at me like that? Did I do something wrong? Was my habit dirty? Thoughts whizzed by and my thighs clenched hard as a rush filled my insides. Why did I react to him like this? âYasmin, how about you tell us about yourself,â Mrs. West suggested cheerily. My stomach churned. I fought t
Yasmin: This was it: 4th Grace Avenue. My heart skipped a beat and I nearly fell backwards trying to take in the tall and grand building. I did the sign of the cross on my chest and kissed my rosary. The priest had always warned us about the rich as well as places like this: havens for sin and evil, people tied to their wealth and their money, futile, buys them a spot in hell. The security guard let me in and led me to the front door. I gulped and looked at him. âWhat?â he snapped and I showed him my bandaged hands. His stiff face reddened slightly and his fist knocked heavily on the thick door that it made me jump. As soon as the door clicked from the inside, the security guard hurried to his post and left me alone. The door opened and an elderly maid stood at the post. Her smile was kind yet full of pain. âGood morning, I am Sister Yasmin. I came to see Mrs. West.â She nodded wordlessly and ushered me in. The home was beautifully furnished: chandeliers hung from the ceilings li
Yasmin: My breath got caught in my throat. My fingers curled and uncurled as anxiety seized my body, making everything stop. âI⊠Iâm sorry. I got⊠I got my period and I was really hungry and I didnâtâŠâ âAnd you didnât wait for the other sisters,â he cut in, glaring at me, his hands shaking at his side. âI have raised you in this place since the day you were born. You are twenty-one and you have been getting your period for the past eight years. You should be used to this! You should be stronger!â âI tried.ââ My composure shattered and hot tears streamed down my face. âI tried my best, Dad. I was in so much pain. I really tried.â His breathing was deep and heavy, his stare was unblinking and a glint flashed in his emerald eyes. âYou allowed the devil to mislead you. You listened to the desires of your flesh and that was why you ate. There is nothing more to it.â He took a deep breath and exhaled sharply through his mouth. His voice dropped and made my breath catch. âBring me
Yasmin: Tears streamed down my face as I staggered up the stairs. My finger gripped my tummy and low groans rumbled in my throat. It was over. It was finally over. Twenty-one days of no food and water was finally over and I felt like I walked on the thin line between life and death. Dad said that fasting made you stronger, drew you closer to the Lord but I felt weaker than water and close to the Lord⊠Yes, I was. On the verge of death, close to meeting Him. It would have been bearable if I didn't get my period yesterday. Bleeding and hungry, my womb and stomach were out to get me. There was never a combination so terrible. My fingers ran on the cold stone walls of the convent as I willed myself to the dining room. Every stone step moved under my feet, each breath was a task. Arghhh⊠the pain was getting worse. My insides were pulling themselves apart. Lord, why?! I stopped; my legs shook under me. I took a deep breath and that's when I smelled it. Cinnamon rolls! And was that⊠m