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."Standing up, he started shuffling the papers on his desk."Good.On Wednesday, I want you tocome to the office with me and meet everyone.Keep your schedule clear.Can you do that?""Yes."Yes, Sir.I answered automatically, without hesitation or question.I thought I saw a slight grimace onhis face, but it quickly disappeared.What the hell did I do wrong?Chapter ThirteenBenSon of a bitch, son of a bitch, son of a mother flipping cocksucking bitch.This girl had me so tied up in knots, even my cursing didn't make sense anymore.How I'd managed to keep my cool for as long as I did, I'll never know.When I woke up to thesound of the front door clicking shut, I figured, worst case scenario she must have had an attack ofconscience - or an attack of good sense, maybe, about our plans.But that wasn't right.She'd veryspecifically changed her tune right after I left her alone with my computer.A ball of panic started to form in my chest, and I sat there with my hand on the closed laptopfor a while before I had the courage to open it.There was nothing on there.I knew there was nothing on there.It was practically a full-timeloaner, just for casual use, and I was very careful not to leave anything personal on it.It was safe.I'dlet near-strangers use it a thousand times.There must be something I was forgetting.Finally, I forced myself to look.If I wanted to catch her before she got all the way home, Ineeded to know what I was dealing with - and fast.When I spotted it, my stomach leapt into my throat.I'd completely fucking forgotten bookmarking that site on this fucking thing.Not that it usuallymattered.But I must've been drunk.Did I think I was being subtle, naming it some random string ofletters? It stood out like a sore fucking thumb.I should have called it "Carpet Repair" or something.Carpet repair.Jesus Christ.Before I had a chance to think about it, I was running out the front door, heading down thesidewalk towards her neighborhood.It was sheer luck that I managed to run into her, and prettyremarkable that she actually stopped to talk to me.Agreed to see me again, nonetheless.I could see the barely-concealed revulsion in her eyes.She didn't understand it.Of course shedidn't.It was one of those things you had to feel.Everything I'd told her about my history was true.The first time Daria told me she wanted it, I wondered how I'd managed to hitch my wagon to amental patient.I was about as judgmental as they come.Then, when I finally had her moaning andsquirming underneath my hand, everything started to make a whole lot of sense.It wasn't just about sex.I mean, sure, you'd have to be robot not to get a hard-on with a sexywoman squealing and shimmying across your lap, especially when you can feel her getting hot foryou, punishment or no punishment.But the power, the control, it was intoxicating even beyond that.Even though I never had Daria's trust, I had something like it.And with her, I learned that almost wasgood enough.Of course Jenna didn't understand it.I couldn't expect her to.But that wasn't what botheredme.I'd talked her back into our deal; that was no problem.I was persuasive.Short of her discoveringI was the Zodiac killer, there was nothing I couldn't silver-tongue my way out of.That wasn't thereason why my brain felt like it was trying to swallow itself.She wanted it.Some men, some Doms, they claim they can look at a woman and just know if she's a naturalsubmissive.I happen to think they're full of shit.People can put on all kinds of masks, all kinds ofperformances, during their everyday life.What I do is all about stripping those away, slowly, slowlyrevealing the person underneath who just craves pure sensation.The submission is just a way to getthere.In the end, it's all about feelings.Triggering the right brain chemicals.Pretty soon, you'rehooked.Jenna wasn't hooked yet.But oh, she wanted a taste.I could tell.When we met, if she had the desire, it was dormant.It was too deeply hidden for me to see.But once the idea was planted in her head.Well.Now, it had wormed its way into her brain.There was no way it was coming back out.Even if she never did it, for the rest of her life, she'd wonder.And I didn't want that for her.There was beauty in submission, yes.There was comfort.There was happiness, for those whowanted it, they got some kind of gratification they couldn't find any other way.But I'd never been fullyconvinced that they didn't lose a part of themselves in the process.While something inside me growled with pleasure at seeing a powerful, independent womansubdued - another part of me still recoiled.I believed everything I'd said to Jenna - at least, I wantedto.Those were the justifications I'd read, over and over again, until I could recite them to myselfwhenever I had doubts.But that spark she'd had when she confronted me in the grocery store, the wayshe didn't even think twice, just saw me acting like an entitled asshole and lashed out.I never wantedto see that disappear.I didn't want to see her bite it back, I didn't want to see all kinds of unspokenthings flashing in her eyes while she reluctantly bowed her head.It wasn't right.She deserved better.Better than me, at any rate.***I didn't contact her again until the day before our planned visit to my offices.Thankfully, I'dactually remembered to get her number this time.After some thought, I elected not to mention how I'dpractically kicked her out of my house.A proactive apology would be nice, but it also had thepotential to breed unnecessary awkwardness.Better to pretend it never happened.Hopefully, she'd dome the same courtesy.After an hour or so, she responded to my text, just as coolly and nonchalantly as I could havehoped.Yes, we were still on.She wondered what she should wear.Let me worry about that, I told her, pressing send before I had a chance to stop myself.Shit, I really had to stop giving this woman orders.But I already had a plan in place,involving a boutique downtown that already had my Amex on file.They knew my tastes, and theyknew how to make a woman look good in them.She'd be perfectly dressed for the part.I had to smilewhen I pictured her going to the door with a frown on her face, not expecting a package, only to find abeautifully wrapped box from a place she'd probably never dreamed of setting foot in.This was my favorite gift to give a woman, and one I reserved for special occasions.In thiscase, of course, it wasn't so much a gift as a necessary expense for our facade.But of course, I'd lether keep it.I've always felt that a dress belongs to its owner in some special way.It always carriesthe memory of her, no matter what happens.I half-expected a call or a text, the next morning.What the hell? I worried that she hadn'tgotten the package, that something had been mixed up along the way.The boutique didn't open foranother hour and a half, but I tried calling anyway, and the owner answered on the first ring."Good morning, Mr.Chase," she said, smoothly."How can I help you?""I just wanted to make sure that delivery went through," I said."Haven't heard anything fromthe recipient.""It certainly did, Mr.Chase.She even signed for it [ Pobierz całość w formacie PDF ]