Read Online Folly by Jassy Mackenzie - Free Book Online Page B

terrified woman who had absolutely no business trying to pass herself off as something she was never born to be.
    The urge to strip it all off, climb back into my T -shirt and tracksuit pants, and head back to the house at a run was overwhelming. I resisted it. From somewhere, I found the strength to turn away from the revolting spectacle in the mirror and erase the sight from my memory.
    â€˜You’re in too deep now, Em,’ I told myself. ‘At least see this first session through. And stop looking at yourself through your fear goggles because they’re not telling you the truth about your appearance. You look exactly like a mistress should. Well groomed, domineering and dangerous … and with damned good hair.’
    Over all this gear, I put on a lightweight double-breasted beige trench coat that was long enough to cover my thighs. My positive selftalk notwithstanding, I was not going to reveal myself in the domination outfit in anything but the strictest privacy, and I certainly didn’t want Goodness or my wretched next-door neighbour to catch even a glimpse.
    And then I felt my heart leap into my throat as a silver Mercedes eased its way down the narrow driveway. Oh, God, he was here.
    My first client had actually arrived.
    Waiting inside the folly, I heard the rattle of the gate. I peeked through the window and watched as Goodness leapt up from his plastic chair under the karee tree and pushed it open. He was wearing the navy blazer and the smart black shoes I’d bought for him, but had refused to take off his yellow Kaizer Chiefs baseball cap. He’d told me it was a lucky hat, and I could only hope that would prove true for both of us.
    The gleaming vehicle came into full view as it stopped in the shade of the carport.
    My throat was dry and I felt my palms grow damp. I opened the door and waited behind the desk, hearing footfalls scrunch over the gravel, and then he was inside, taking off a pair of sunglasses and blinking in the semi-darkness.
    A rather chubby Indian man of average height, probably in his midfifties, with neatly cut hair that was greying at the temples and receding above.
    â€˜Ah. Um … good morning – er – Mistress,’ he said in a soft voice.
    Amazingly, his servile manner gave me the confidence I needed to take charge.
    â€˜Please, have a seat,’ I said, indicating the chair opposite as I sat myself down with my back to the wall.
    â€˜Thank you,’ he said, rather hesitantly, and I realised with a sense of unreality that he was just as nervous as I was.
    â€˜Is there anything special you’d like to do in this session?’
    â€˜No – I think – just the normal.’
    The normal. What was the bloody normal? Dear God, let me live up to his expectations.
    â€˜Actually,’ he said, ‘perhaps we could start the fantasy with – with you giving me a disciplinary hearing. Something work-related. If you could do that, please.’
    â€˜I certainly can.’
    Safe word, safe word, you nearly forgot the safe word, you moron …
    â€˜If there’s anything that we do during the session you are not comfortable with, or you want to stop, you may use the safe word Amber. Do you understand?’
    â€˜Amber. Yes, Mistress Caine.’
    â€˜There’s a bathroom through that door there if you would like to freshen up.’ I pointed. ‘When you come out, our session will start, and you’ll be entering my office. I, by the way, will be the human resources director.’
    Lowly stood and walked over to the bathroom, closing the door behind him. As soon as he was out of sight I jumped up, closed the front door, and, with shaking arms, scrabbled together some pens and pencils and put them in a row next to my new, hard-covered appointments diary before sitting down again.
    I had done role-playing before, many times in the past, when working on the phones. This scenario was familiar to me – the script,