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Authors: Tara Crescent
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rules,” he says.
Aah. Here it comes. The rules. I expect to be told the rules governing my submission. What to wear. What to call him. How to behave.
But that isn’t what he says. “I don’t share,” he says, quietly, instead. “I’m monogamous in my relationships. I expect my partner to be the same. If you want to sleep with someone else, you need to tell me and to end this before you do that. And that applies here, Sara, to the House of Pain.”
Oh. I wish I could argue but I can’t. It’s a fair request. “You won’t sleep with anyone else either?” I ask, just to be sure. I’m not going to buy into a double standard.
“Of course not,” he says automatically, surprise etched in his voice.
“Get dressed, Sara,” he says, something in his voice signalling that this conversation is at an end. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I can catch a cab,” I say. It is late and we both have to work the next day.
“I’ll drive you home.” His voice is flat. There’s a warning in it for me and I heed it. I don’t argue; I get dressed.
***
We don’t talk much on the way back. I give him my address, he nods and we are on our way. I keep quiet too. He doesn’t seem angry any more, but I can’t read his mood. When he pulls up in front of my building, I eye him hesitantly.
“Doug, I’m sorry about tonight.” And I am. He’s being a lot nicer about this that I had expected. He hasn’t yelled at me. He’s instead massaged cream into my body, and given me a ride home. I don’t deserve his kindness.
He doesn’t say anything but he leans forward and kisses me gently on my lips. “See you Saturday, baby,” he says.
There’s still desire in me; a tightly coiled desire that begs for release. “Want to come up for a drink?” I ask hopefully.
Doug grins at me. “Normally, that’s a very tempting offer,” he says, “but I’ve an early morning meeting. Can I take a rain check?”
“Sure.” There’s disappointment in my voice. I try to hide it, but I’m not sure I succeed. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, preparing to get out of the car.
“Sara,” His hand is now on mine, jolting me to stillness. “Are you turned on now, Sara?” There’s a peculiar note in his voice.
Honest communication. “Yes,” I confess.
He laughs. “In that case,” he says, and now, there’s a note of command in his voice, “it would please me greatly, Sara, if you don’t masturbate tonight. In fact, if you want to be really, really good, you won’t masturbate till Saturday evening.”
Whoa. There’s no ‘or else’ in his statement. He’s made his request, or is it an order he’s given me? In any case, I’m not sure what the consequences are to disobeying him, and I find I don’t care. I will do as he’s asked me to do. I owe it to him. I need to make up for the House of Pain tonight.
“Okay.” My voice is quiet, compliant.
Is this how it starts, my submission?
Chapter 8
I run into Doug at the elevator on Friday. I’m heading to lunch with my friend Toni, when the elevator doors open, and Doug and the COO walk in. We both have been giggling about something she’s said about one of our coworkers, but we both grow still as we notice the new entrants and stop our giggling. The COO nods at us politely and continues his conversation with Doug.
Doug looks relaxed and unintimidated. And utterly hot, I decide, surveying him from the corner of my eyes. I have done as he’s asked. I haven’t masturbated, and as a result, I can’t tear my mind away from sex, from the way Doug had me tied up on the sawhorse, as he licked me from behind.
The elevator doors open and we all get out. Doug catches my eye and winks at me. “Have a nice weekend, Sara,” he says, politely, as we walk away.
“You know Doug Patterson?” Toni asks me. She’s surprised.
“We met at last month’s meet-and-greet,” I say. I change the topic and we chat about Toni’s weekend plans.
***
Friday evening
Aah. Here it comes. The rules. I expect to be told the rules governing my submission. What to wear. What to call him. How to behave.
But that isn’t what he says. “I don’t share,” he says, quietly, instead. “I’m monogamous in my relationships. I expect my partner to be the same. If you want to sleep with someone else, you need to tell me and to end this before you do that. And that applies here, Sara, to the House of Pain.”
Oh. I wish I could argue but I can’t. It’s a fair request. “You won’t sleep with anyone else either?” I ask, just to be sure. I’m not going to buy into a double standard.
“Of course not,” he says automatically, surprise etched in his voice.
“Get dressed, Sara,” he says, something in his voice signalling that this conversation is at an end. “Come on, I’ll drive you home.”
“I can catch a cab,” I say. It is late and we both have to work the next day.
“I’ll drive you home.” His voice is flat. There’s a warning in it for me and I heed it. I don’t argue; I get dressed.
***
We don’t talk much on the way back. I give him my address, he nods and we are on our way. I keep quiet too. He doesn’t seem angry any more, but I can’t read his mood. When he pulls up in front of my building, I eye him hesitantly.
“Doug, I’m sorry about tonight.” And I am. He’s being a lot nicer about this that I had expected. He hasn’t yelled at me. He’s instead massaged cream into my body, and given me a ride home. I don’t deserve his kindness.
He doesn’t say anything but he leans forward and kisses me gently on my lips. “See you Saturday, baby,” he says.
There’s still desire in me; a tightly coiled desire that begs for release. “Want to come up for a drink?” I ask hopefully.
Doug grins at me. “Normally, that’s a very tempting offer,” he says, “but I’ve an early morning meeting. Can I take a rain check?”
“Sure.” There’s disappointment in my voice. I try to hide it, but I’m not sure I succeed. “Thanks for the ride,” I say, preparing to get out of the car.
“Sara,” His hand is now on mine, jolting me to stillness. “Are you turned on now, Sara?” There’s a peculiar note in his voice.
Honest communication. “Yes,” I confess.
He laughs. “In that case,” he says, and now, there’s a note of command in his voice, “it would please me greatly, Sara, if you don’t masturbate tonight. In fact, if you want to be really, really good, you won’t masturbate till Saturday evening.”
Whoa. There’s no ‘or else’ in his statement. He’s made his request, or is it an order he’s given me? In any case, I’m not sure what the consequences are to disobeying him, and I find I don’t care. I will do as he’s asked me to do. I owe it to him. I need to make up for the House of Pain tonight.
“Okay.” My voice is quiet, compliant.
Is this how it starts, my submission?
Chapter 8
I run into Doug at the elevator on Friday. I’m heading to lunch with my friend Toni, when the elevator doors open, and Doug and the COO walk in. We both have been giggling about something she’s said about one of our coworkers, but we both grow still as we notice the new entrants and stop our giggling. The COO nods at us politely and continues his conversation with Doug.
Doug looks relaxed and unintimidated. And utterly hot, I decide, surveying him from the corner of my eyes. I have done as he’s asked. I haven’t masturbated, and as a result, I can’t tear my mind away from sex, from the way Doug had me tied up on the sawhorse, as he licked me from behind.
The elevator doors open and we all get out. Doug catches my eye and winks at me. “Have a nice weekend, Sara,” he says, politely, as we walk away.
“You know Doug Patterson?” Toni asks me. She’s surprised.
“We met at last month’s meet-and-greet,” I say. I change the topic and we chat about Toni’s weekend plans.
***
Friday evening
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