Read Online Dominated by the Librarian #3: 'Surrender to Obey' (male submission erotica) by Tara Jones - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Tara Jones
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his rather playful mischievous nature.
This time however, he had clearly met his match.
“Yes, they are quite popular,” the shop assistant replied without even a hint of embarrassment. “They are from the new autumn collection and they were recently rewarded five stars in QX.”
I stifled a smile as the shop assistant mercilessly continued, unaware that she was deflating poor Dave’s attempt to flirt with her with an almost cruel efficiency. “Is it a present for your boyfriend, or is it for your own enjoyment?” she continued professionally.
Dave blanched visibly and it looked like his eyes would fall out of their sockets. I don’t think I had ever seen him taken that aback.
“I-I-I’ll wait outside,” he said finally and threw me a haunted look before he left the shop.
“Oh dear,” the tall shop assistant commented and tilted her head to one side as her gaze followed Dave as he stalked out of the shop without looking back.
“Don’t worry. He’ll get over it,” I assured her.
“So, how may I help you, sir?”
“Well, I ‘m here to buy a present to my girlfriend,” I lied smoothly. “She has... ah, expressed certain desires that she would like to perhaps try to get tied up.”
By me of course, I wanted to add, just so that there could be no room for misunderstandings, but I decided not to say anything more. It would appear strange if I did.
“Oh, yes, bondage has become increasingly popular,” the shop assistant told me and with a small smile she added, “A lot of girls fantasize about that.”
“I see,” I said neutrally as she guided me over to a glass display cases where various handcuffs in both metal and leather were placed in rows.
“So, your girlfriend...” the shop assistant said and gave me a sideway glance. “Does she have approximately the same diameter of her wrists as you do, by any chance?”
I had a sinking feeling that she had seen straight through me the moment I walked through the door and I could almost see my lies evaporating in front of me.
“As a matter of fact, yes, she does,” I lied on bravely.
I left the shop with a discreet paper bag with various items wrapped in pink paper.
The shop assistant had almost been gleefully amused over my attempt to deceive her and had happily played along, including insisting to wrap all the items in pink paper with large red bows.
“I hate you,” Dave greeted me.
It had started to rain a little and he looked rather miserable in his thin jacket.
“No you don’t,” I replied and smiled at him. “I got her phone number for you.”
“Really?” Dave stopped dead in his tracks the street. His face lit up.
“Yeah, really,” I said. “And I think she’s into bondage. Now let’s go and get a beer, this weather is horrible!”
The rest of the week seemed to drag forward in slow motion.
Dave called me and told me that his date with the intimidating shop assistant had gone quite well and that they would see each other again. He seemed to be rather smitten and never wanted to hang up or stop talking about her. I knew that he hadn’t had a serious date for over a year, so I was happy for him and hoped that it would work out between them.
On Tuesday I had a meeting with my boss to discuss the possibility to get promoted to senior graphic designer, an opportunity that only a couple of years ago would have me celebrating madly, but these days I’d to pretend to be pleasantly surprised and managed at least to say something appropriated like “how thrilled I was over this development,” hopefully without looking too nauseated by my own faked theatre.
My job as a graphic designer was still a reasonably hip job that paid fairy well and I had an office in inner London, so I shouldn’t complain. It paid the mortgage and let me led a cool and trendy life in London, but with time I had come to understand that it also – with a brutal efficiently – was killing my creativity.
It wasn’t what I had dreamt
This time however, he had clearly met his match.
“Yes, they are quite popular,” the shop assistant replied without even a hint of embarrassment. “They are from the new autumn collection and they were recently rewarded five stars in QX.”
I stifled a smile as the shop assistant mercilessly continued, unaware that she was deflating poor Dave’s attempt to flirt with her with an almost cruel efficiency. “Is it a present for your boyfriend, or is it for your own enjoyment?” she continued professionally.
Dave blanched visibly and it looked like his eyes would fall out of their sockets. I don’t think I had ever seen him taken that aback.
“I-I-I’ll wait outside,” he said finally and threw me a haunted look before he left the shop.
“Oh dear,” the tall shop assistant commented and tilted her head to one side as her gaze followed Dave as he stalked out of the shop without looking back.
“Don’t worry. He’ll get over it,” I assured her.
“So, how may I help you, sir?”
“Well, I ‘m here to buy a present to my girlfriend,” I lied smoothly. “She has... ah, expressed certain desires that she would like to perhaps try to get tied up.”
By me of course, I wanted to add, just so that there could be no room for misunderstandings, but I decided not to say anything more. It would appear strange if I did.
“Oh, yes, bondage has become increasingly popular,” the shop assistant told me and with a small smile she added, “A lot of girls fantasize about that.”
“I see,” I said neutrally as she guided me over to a glass display cases where various handcuffs in both metal and leather were placed in rows.
“So, your girlfriend...” the shop assistant said and gave me a sideway glance. “Does she have approximately the same diameter of her wrists as you do, by any chance?”
I had a sinking feeling that she had seen straight through me the moment I walked through the door and I could almost see my lies evaporating in front of me.
“As a matter of fact, yes, she does,” I lied on bravely.
I left the shop with a discreet paper bag with various items wrapped in pink paper.
The shop assistant had almost been gleefully amused over my attempt to deceive her and had happily played along, including insisting to wrap all the items in pink paper with large red bows.
“I hate you,” Dave greeted me.
It had started to rain a little and he looked rather miserable in his thin jacket.
“No you don’t,” I replied and smiled at him. “I got her phone number for you.”
“Really?” Dave stopped dead in his tracks the street. His face lit up.
“Yeah, really,” I said. “And I think she’s into bondage. Now let’s go and get a beer, this weather is horrible!”
The rest of the week seemed to drag forward in slow motion.
Dave called me and told me that his date with the intimidating shop assistant had gone quite well and that they would see each other again. He seemed to be rather smitten and never wanted to hang up or stop talking about her. I knew that he hadn’t had a serious date for over a year, so I was happy for him and hoped that it would work out between them.
On Tuesday I had a meeting with my boss to discuss the possibility to get promoted to senior graphic designer, an opportunity that only a couple of years ago would have me celebrating madly, but these days I’d to pretend to be pleasantly surprised and managed at least to say something appropriated like “how thrilled I was over this development,” hopefully without looking too nauseated by my own faked theatre.
My job as a graphic designer was still a reasonably hip job that paid fairy well and I had an office in inner London, so I shouldn’t complain. It paid the mortgage and let me led a cool and trendy life in London, but with time I had come to understand that it also – with a brutal efficiently – was killing my creativity.
It wasn’t what I had dreamt
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