Conscious Discipline Audiobook Novels & Stories

My hands are shaking and when he grabs my hand, I can feel that he is shaking too. It eases a bit of my anxiety. My current self is starting to feel something weighing me further down and I can hear someone constantly saying the same thing over and over again, but I can’t understand anything that they are saying, or who is even talking. I return my attention back to the scene in front of me. King Anthony's new priest is standing in front of us. He signaled that he is ready to begin. "Do you Joseph Bartholomew take....."

“You command it.” Something cracked in my voice. Not loudly. Just enough for me to feel it. She laughed under her breath, uneasy. “You’re imagining things.” “No,” I said, stepping closer. “I’m noticing things I can’t unsee.” The space between us shrank, not because I rushed her, but because she didn’t retreat. Her posture was rooted. Balanced. I recognized that stillness. It comes from discipline. From pain, you survive without witnesses. “You’ve sharpened,” I said. “Like you went somewhere harsh and came back… forged.”

The cognitive dissonance was giving me whiplash. “I’m not advocating for a reunion tour,” Constance said, setting down her spoon with deliberate precision. She folded her hands under her chin and fixed me with that therapist stare she’d perfected—the one that made you confess to crimes you hadn’t even committed yet. “I’m permanently team you, regardless of whatever emotional train wreck you decide to embrace. But I think there’s a difference between actions that are completely unforgivable and mindsets that people can evolve past.” “You think someone can just ‘grow out of’ planning to kidnap you and lock you up for the rest of your natural life?” The question came out sharper than I’d intend

I sobbed, my body trembling uncontrollably. “Eight.” “Nine.” “Ten,” I whispered, my voice a ragged mess. I was a wreck of pain and a shameful, intoxicating arousal. His hand came to rest on my throbbing, welted ass, his fingers gently caressing the heated skin. “See?” he rumbled, his voice vibrating through me. “Discipline provides clarity. It reminds you of your place.” I shook my head, unable to speak, completely overwhelmed by the conflicting signals rioting through me.

The acoustics of the courtyard caught every syllable and cast them outward—clean, cold, and exact—like blades slipping into flesh without force. “Hear now the declaration of formal censure,” the man intoned, his voice austere and brittle with authority, “as decreed by internal Faculty Council and ratified under Article Nine of the Ashwood Disciplinary Concord.” The parchment in his hands trembled slightly—not from emotion, I thought, but from the crisp morning wind that had risen suddenly from nowhere, brushing the corners of the courtyard like a presence come to watch. He went on. “The accused, Sinclair, Aubrey,—” he paused, glancing briefly at a sealed annotation at the bottom of the scrol

She asked, disbelief and sarcasm evident in her voice. " Whether you like it or not, as long as you bare my name, you're my responsibility and I must take care of that." He said, hsu voice filled with authority. When no reply was forthcoming, Gerald saw it at the end of the conversation and made to leave. Without a backward glance, he marched out of the room into the study. Closing the door behind him, he sagged against it, closing his eyes.

“Father… there are so many. I imagine so much. I imagine you inside me, so deep that I can’t take it anymore, torn between begging you to continue and to stop. I imagine your dick… I try to gauge your size during services by looking at your crotch. I imagine sucking it… and your fingers… I imagine them inside me…” I said everything in one breath, my face flushing pink, my eyes glazing over, thighs clenching tighter as my greedy pussy throbbed, soaking my panties. God, why had I said all of that? Was I too honest? But I had promised myself to be nothing but truthful. I inhaled sharply, the ache inside me worsening. “I see,” I heard, a deep hum from the other side. And for a fleeting moment, I

"Shouldn't someone like Eve be expelled immediately for using the Lane name to deceive others and damage Sophie's reputation?" The chancellor turned to her and wiped his forehead with a handkerchief. "Are you… Are you volunteering to be expelled?" Viola's smile froze. Aaron frowned. "Sir, there must be some mistake. Eve is the one causing trouble." The chancellor cut him off, raising his voice. "Aaron, Viola! Both of you posted lies online, and you assaulted a student in public. These are very serious actions! Both of you will face serious disciplinary action!" Aaron's face flushed red. "Lies? Assault? She started it!"

“We wanted to update you.” My heartbeat picked it's pace as I adjusted myself against the pillows, suddenly very aware of how small I felt laid out like evidence. Ellis didn’t sit, he hung somewhere close to the window while Sonia stood by the door. “We’ve concluded the review,” the woman continued. “After hearing all testimonies and reviewing circumstances, the panel has decided on disciplinary probation.” I blinked twice as the news settled in my head. And it didn't make any sense. “Probation?” I repeated, feeling bike ride to my throat. How can she get just probation for breaking my fucking ankle!?

one advisor said carefully. “Everything carries risk,” Adrian replied. “This carries irreversible exposure.” “Yes.” Silence. Then— “Why now?” another asked. Adrian didn’t hesitate. “Because they believe we’ll continue reacting.” A pause. “And we won’t.” ⸻ I watched him closely. This wasn’t pressure. This wasn’t defense. This was decision. And it felt different. Final. ⸻ “What does full disclosure include?” I asked. He looked at me. “Everything.” A beat.