A submissive whose curiosity got the best of her…
A Dom in need of a girlfriend…
A submissive whose curiosity got the best of her…
The ad read: Submissive Wanted, Three Days Only
Theirs was a temporary relationship contracted not to last… but a lot could happen in three short days.
Excerpt: Chapter One, Part 3 of 4:
Her whole body erupted in shivers that Eric must have noticed. He looked up again. “What was that?”
“Nothing.” She blinked back at him, pretending it hadn’t happened, and praying he couldn’t see how fiercely she was blushing.
His head canted again. Chuckling, he turned to the last page on the list.
Now that she was sitting here with him, she wished she’d been more honest about the things she fantasized about. Some parts of her ached for the loss, but the rest of her tried to be sensible. This wasn’t a boyfriend/girlfriend situation. She wasn’t embarking on a sensual adventure with a new play partner. This was a temporary deal. They weren’t even likely to be sexual, so really what was the point in baring her soul and all her fucked-up sexual turn-ons, only to have those desires go unfulfilled anyway?
“Okay.” Flipping the contract back to the first page, he gave the pages a straightening tap on the table and lay them down in a neat stack to the side of his salad. Smiling, he picked up his fork. “On a scale from one to ten, how honest do you think you were filling this out?”
Lacey felt the way he stabbed that first bite of lettuce all the way through the table and into the pit of her stomach. “I-I was a twelve, I’m pretty sure.”
“Pretty sure?” He was still smiling when he gave her a look—one that was a mixture of ‘Aren’t you cute?’ and ‘You really don’t want to lie to me,’ with maybe just a bit of, ‘Go on, test me,’ thrown in. That Look put an instant stranglehold on her chest.
“I… I…” She caught herself. She had to clear her throat twice before she could make her voice sound normal again instead of just a little too high-pitched, a little too excited… a little too ‘Little’.
Had he noticed?
Eric chewed his salad, watching her with that Look and that dangerous smile still tugging the corners of his mouth. “Go on. Are you sure there’s nothing in this—” He rested his hand on the contract. “—that you might like to change?”
He’d not only noticed, he knew. Her stomach fell straight through her seat and landed, quivering, on the floor between her frozen feet. For a moment, she thought she might be sick.
But no, he couldn’t know. He couldn’t know anything because she wasn’t a real Little; her last Daddy had told her that. She never used baby talk and, although her tone did tend to rise higher than usual when she went Small, she knew it wasn’t… well, real. So, ultimately, what was there for Eric to know?
She cleared her throat one more time, just to be sure her tone was right again. “I was honest,” she lied. Twice now. She felt horrible.
Eric stopped chewing. He hummed and cleared his mouth, something she couldn’t quite identify glittering in those blue eyes of his. “All right, let’s leave that for now. Let me tell you about myself. My name is Eric Hughes. I am the only son of my parents, Salma and Daniel Hughes. I have two sisters, both of whom are married, with either successful careers or successfully careered spouses, and both have children. Although the most wonderful person on the face of the planet, my mother is hellbent on seeing the Hughes name continue on to the next generation, and being the only Hughes son, I have been tasked with making that happen. Now, I have nothing against marriage. I intend at some point in my life to be married, and I do want children. But I don’t want them now, with just anyone and only because I’m being nagged half unto death to start spawning them.”
Lacey nodded. She couldn’t really empathize. She saw her own mother maybe once a year and they rarely, if ever, talked on the phone. The subject of Lacey being settled, happily or otherwise, rarely came up. On the subject of children, Lacey wasn’t sure if she wanted any, and on that front, her mother wasn’t entitled to voice, much less have, an opinion. “Parents worry,” she said, because Eric had paused, and she wanted to show she was listening. “That’s their job, I guess.”
“That’s why I posted my ad. My mother is hosting a dinner party at her dungeon in two weeks. I’d like to be able to attend without worrying about what sacrificial virgin she plans to heave into the fiery passions of my volcano, for god’s sake.” He shook his head once.
Caught off guard by the unexpected humor of it, Lacey laughed.
“I know,” Eric acknowledged. “It sounds like I’m overreacting, but seriously. You haven’t met my mother. Yet. Last year I arrived to what I thought was a private family function, only to find two men in the living room. Just in case I didn’t like one, mom wanted to be sure I had options. I’m a top. Only one of them was submissive.”
Oh wow. Lacey’s jaw dropped, but then she laughed again. “I’m sorry.”
“Yeah, well. Fortunately for me, somewhere between passing the baked ham and the chocolate mint pie, they fell in love with each other. The year before that, they volunteered me for a bachelor’s auction at their Christmas Eve charity event. I went for almost two grand and spent the evening with the three elderly ladies who pooled their money to win me out from under Barbara Huffingston. God bless all cougars over sixty. To this day, if I ever see those three ladies again, I will happily kiss the garters right off them.”
She had no idea who he was talking about, but she liked that he complained in a way that sounded cheerful.
“Barbara sometimes attends other groups in the community; I don’t suppose you know her?” When she shook her head, Eric said, “It’s just as well. She’s a nice person, but she’s a top who loves to make other Doms kneel. She also has a preference for police issue handcuffs and pegging, and I don’t bottom. Particularly not for that.”
“Oh, wow.” Lacey almost laughed again, except that was when her brain caught up with all the information he was providing. “Did you say your parents have a dungeon?”
Wiping his mouth on his napkin and setting his salad aside, Eric nodded. “Over a hundred members meet there twice a month, every month. The only thing bigger than their annual Halloween party is their Christmas-slash-New Year’s event, held the week before Thanksgiving, because, you know, even kinky folks like to share the holidays with their families. I’m expected to bring a date. If I fail to bring someone suitable, one will be provided for me.” Signaling for more coffee, he muttered, “Heaven forbid I should fall in love with a vanilla.” He paused with his cup halfway to his mouth. “You know, that is something I should be grateful for. I honestly don’t think I could live like that. What about you?”
And just like that, he stopped talking, stared at her over his coffee cup and Lacey found herself basking in the Caribbean blue of his undivided attention.
“Uh… well, I might be able to live like that, but I’m not sure I would want to.” She hadn’t really thought about it, honestly.
He grinned behind his napkin and swallowed. “No, I mean, tell me about yourself. Tell me about your family. If we decide to go forward with this, who will I be meeting, and what am I walking into?”
“Oh!” Heat brushed her cheeks. “Sorry!”
“Six,” he said, and took another bite.
Already derailed, that threw her even more. “I’m sorry?”
He both tsked and chuckled. “Seven. Apologies,” he explained when she only blinked at him. “Four now after I told you to stop when there was no need. Don’t worry about that now. Continue, please.”
The heat in her cheeks flared a little hotter. So did blossoms of the same as they unfurled in the pit of her stomach, sparking the slow throb that pulsed at the base of her clit. “I, uh…” She shook herself just to get her brain working again. “I-I’ve been single now for two years. My last Da… uh, Dom, um… we’d been dating off and on through college, but certain things became too much and…”
“What sort of things?”
She wasn’t sure she wanted to go into that. Looking at the folded list not far from his plate, with the Little section left blank, she was sure of it. “Let’s just say, he didn’t like the kind of submissive I am and found someone whom he liked better.”
Eric had stopped chewing. The blue of his gaze seemed to have darkened, but he nodded. “Please continue.”
“My mom isn’t likely to grill you over anything. She’s a…” Lacey huffed, not at all comfortable and unsure how much to reveal this soon. But then, it was a relationship of only three days. There probably wasn’t any such thing as ‘too soon’. She braced herself before meeting his gaze again. “My mother is a drunk. Recovering,” she reluctantly amended. “Supposedly. It’s my birthday next weekend and I promised I’d go. If I could find an excuse to get out of it, I would, but I only ever drive out to her place once a year and… I don’t know. I’d rather she screwed up my birthday, than any other holiday I actually have happy memories of.” She slumped a little in her seat, painfully aware of how ugly that just made her seem. “That sounds pretty bad, doesn’t it?”
“Sometimes it ought to sound as bad as it is,” he said without judgment. “Does she know about your lifestyle choice?”
“God, no.” Lacey recoiled. “She’s completely vanilla, as far as I know. And I don’t ever want to share this part of me with her.”
“I can be discrete,” Eric assured. “Tell me, what made you respond to my ad?”
Lacey cringed. “I saw it and I thought… well, after two years of being on my own, maybe this would be a safe way to ease myself back into the dating game. Especially with someone who could give me some—” She hesitated to say ‘nice’. “—experiences.”
The waitress brought his meal just then, setting his double-patty cheeseburger and savory-scented fries on the table between them. A bundle of nerves when she’d come in, sometime during their conversation, she had relaxed enough to actually feel hungry instead of sick. She wished she hadn’t told him she’d already eaten.
Letting the waitress clear his empty salad plate, he squeezed ketchup across both the burger and fries. She tried not to stare at his food while he ate.
“I can be nice, and I certainly am safe.” Eric winked at her before popping a fry in his mouth. “I am a little curious though, what kind of submissive do you consider yourself to be? And I want you to know, I respect your privacy. I’m not asking you to go into anything painful from your past. I’m asking because the whole point of my ad was to find someone in the lifestyle who I could bring not just to dinner with my parents, but to the event party afterward. I can’t very well go stag to that after convincing them I have a girlfriend. They’d never believe it.”
“Right. Of course.” She understood that completely.
“We’ll be expected to scene together at least once that night.”
Her stomach erupted into shivering butterflies. “Right,” she said again. Her voice cracked.
“I’d prefer it if that weren’t our first time. We’ll seem more natural if we’ve played prior to the big night. Plus, I’d like to get to know for myself who the submissive-you really is. Between your birthday party and my mother’s events, I think my projected three days of togetherness will be right on target. We need to be comfortable with one another so that can be reflected in our scene.”
She melted a little. She also panicked.
Part 4 of 4 will continue tomorrow…
Real by Maren Smith, coming this Friday!