“Yeah, I figured that out when he left me without another word. What’s going to happen?”
She releases my arms and they feel like tubes of jelly. I’m thankful when she rubs them vigorously to get the blood flowing in them again. “I don’t know for sure. He didn’t tell me that. I don’t know if he’s going to Isabel or what he’s doing. He did say that you need to answer your cell if he calls you.” She pulls me to stand up. “Shower?”
I nod and she leads me to it. I can barely walk. I’m a little dizzy from the shock of what’s happened, my arms still feel weird, and my legs are weak from his monster cock that stretched me out.
“Maybe I should go see Isabel,” I say as she starts the shower for me.
“No,” she says as she turns back to me. “He said for you not to leave the apartment. Just be patient. Wait for him to call or send you a message. Who knows—he might even come back.”
“I just want to know one thing,” I say as I get under the warm water. “Do you know his name?”
She nods and sighs. “Everyone who’s employed here has stricter rules than any member does. If we give out what is considered classified information, we can be fired and sued. But Mr. Cantrell goes above and beyond with his subs. Shit, there I go telling his business again.”
Pouring shampoo into my palm, I urge her to keep talking, “Pat, please. I need to understand the man. I need everything I can get to help keep him wanting me.”
She looks behind her, as if he might be back there somewhere, which he isn’t. “He’s never let any sub know who he is. Even though you’d be in a lot of trouble if you did out him. You did sign the contract, and you could be taken to court, too, if you ever told a soul about him.”
“I know. I read it before I ever signed it. Plus, it was pounded into my head by the trainers and Isabel. I’m not about to tell anyone a thing. If he had stuck around a minute, he’d have known that. I wonder if he’s always so quick to freak out.”
“I can’t say. I don’t know him on a personal level,” Pat says as she hands me a towel, and I get out and wrap it around me.
I go to the closet to find something to put on. “Thanks.” Thumbing through the lingerie, I find a pink number that looks more comfortable than anything else. “Do you know if I’ll get to keep the money if he dumps me?”
I dress in the closet, then come out, not feeling a hell of a lot more covered by the skimpy garment. Finding a comb on the vanity, I start to comb out my wet hair. Pat looks on as she fidgets, making me even more uneasy and sure I won’t get to keep the money.
“Um, I don’t know if you will or not. I mean, there is that twenty-four-hour policy we have that says that if either party isn’t happy with their partner, then the contract can be completely voided. I don’t want you to worry, though. There are a few men who lost out on winning anyone. I’m sure one of them would want you.”
I turn to frown at her, face to face. “I don’t want anyone else. My Dom is the best ever. We have a spark. I felt a connection like I’ve never felt before.” Forgetting about my hair, I leave the bathroom and go to the living room to mope about what I’ve done.
Pat follows me and picks up the phone on the end table at the far end of the sofa. “Housekeeping to apartment twenty-two, please.” She puts the phone down, then gives me a smile. “Hey, why don’t you call room service and get something fabulous, along with a glass of wine to settle those nerves. Most likely, he’ll come around and figure out that he can trust you. And when you do talk, if you do, remind him that you know your legal responsibility to him and keeping his identity a secret.”
Settling on the sofa and picking up the channel guide, I can’t even concentrate enough to read it. “I guess there’s a real possibility that I’ll never see him again, except on television. And that’s making my stomach hurt.” I look up at her as she heads toward the door. “Leaving already?”
“It’s frowned upon for us to stay too long with any one member. We’re to keep moving and see to everyone. But if I hear anything, I’ll call on the apartment line. The menu is on the table in the kitchenette. The mini fridge has drinks and there are also microwavable snacks in there too. And all kinds of coffee stuff. It’s all paid for. Have at it. Enjoy it.”
“Like it might be my last night here?” I ask as she opens the door.
She nods and ducks out the door. And now I’m all alone. It feels a lot worse than it usually does. Owen may not come back. I may have to accept another Dom. And this may go from a dream come true to a nightmare.
To be perfectly honest, I didn’t even mean for that to come out of my mouth. It was in my head, and somehow it just came on out. I’m going to blame it on the sensory deprivation of the blindfold if he ever gives me the chance to say anything to him.
I’ll just say, hey, it was you who used the blindfold, making my other senses, like hearing, so much better. Your voice is deep and sexy, just like on television. Oh, and by the way, I’ve crushed on you for four seasons. I didn’t catch up to the show until the second season was on or I’d have crushed on you for five seasons.
I’m sure he’ll understand and blame himself, giving me a full pardon and returning to me. Hopefully he’ll be full of remorse and make love to me until I can’t breathe anymore.
Oh, the way the man moves me is insane. Our bodies feel so right together. It is magical. I can imagine doing so much with him. Going to new sexual places with him. I’d do anything he asked me to.
If he’d just come back, I could tell him all of this. Instead, here I sit, helpless and confined to this apartment. Looking around, I have to appreciate the clever décor. The lampshades have hidden designs in them. Tiny cocks spring from the flowered fabric that covers them.
Looking around some more, I notice the art on the walls is abstract, but one of the pictures looks like fornicating people and the other looks like a woman giving a man a blowjob. Ingenious how these people incorporate sex into almost every last detail.
Curiosity pulls me to get up, go to the kitchenette, and look at the menu. The cover gets me right off the bat. It’s a soup taurine that’s shaped like a pussy and it’s filled with chicken noodle soup. The inside of the menu has so many silly items. A hot dog with the top split to look like a human penis. “Yuck!”
I sit at the little table with two chairs, look at the dick hot dog, and sigh. I wish I could’ve seen Owen’s. If he doesn’t ever come back to me, what will I do?
Owen
With a glass of Scotch in my hand, and half of it down my throat, I’ve managed to calm myself down. I’ve climbed back down off the ledge of panic I was on, so I can evaluate my position.
Okay, Petra knows who I am. That was always my biggest fear—that a sub would find me out, and then I’d be in jeopardy of Hollywood finding out and I’d lose the show. But with my nerves returning to a normal state, I think this may be exactly what I need. I need to face my fears.
Petra has signed a contract that has stipulations about privacy and some stiff penalties for breaking anything in that contract. I should be safe to continue this thing.
And she and I have some off-the-charts chemistry too!
I’d hate to end it when I’ve found someone so receptive to what I want. But I’m bending too many of my own rules for her. First, I let her talk and I need to stop that. I also let myself get into her a little too much. This whole time I’ve been thinking about mindless fucking and my mind is already all wrapped up in her.
Picking up my cell, I give her a call to see what she thinks about things. I’m happy to hear her answer.
“Owen?”
“Um, okay, I’ll allow that for now. I do want to talk to you on a person-to-person basis, instead of a Dom/sub way that will have you agreeing to anything I want. Okay, can we talk like a couple of adults for a minute?”
“We can,” she agrees. “I’m sorry about blurting out your name.”
“No, that’s okay. I’d rather know that you’re aware of who I am, rather than you
lie by omission. I should apologize for my hasty retreat. That was a bit immature of me.” I put the empty glass down and devote my attention to our conversation.
“I understand completely,” she says with that sweet voice of hers. I think I could listen to it for long periods of time. It’s so soft, soothing, and just the right amount of sexy.
“I’m glad you do. I wanted to remind you about the contract we both signed.”
“Owen, I’d never tell a soul about you or anything we do. Contract or not, that’s just not me. I’m no gossip, and I knew coming into this thing that I’d have to keep my lips tightly sealed about anything that goes on with any member of this club. You have nothing to worry about with me. I promise you that.”
“That’s good to know. I appreciate it.”
“It would bother me immensely if you let me go and another Dom scooped me up,” she says, making the hair on the back of my neck spring up.
Jealousy rises up in me, faster than ever. “I didn’t think about that,” I admit. “If I let you go, then I suppose one of them could take you. And you’re sure that’s not a thing you want?”
“Owen, if you dump me, then I’m going home empty handed. I don’t want another Dom. Pat just told me that if you end our contract, then there were a few men who didn’t win a sub and they might want me. But I don’t want anyone else. You’re better than I ever expected. I want to end this thing on a good note. Money or no money.”
Her words, while unexpected, are good to hear. “You’d get the money, either way. I’d see to that,” I tell her, to ease her mind.
“That wouldn’t be fair. I wouldn’t even want you to do that. Do you know what I really want?”
“What?” I ask her as I think about her sitting on the bed, legs crossed in an Indian fashion, twirling her hair around her finger.
“I don’t want this to interfere with your summer plans and I don’t want you to get another sub. Let the plan be the same as it was before I figured out who you were.”
Curious about how she was able to figure out who I was so quickly, I ask, “Petra, just how did you figure that out?”
“I recognized you in the hallway. Your longer hair had me stumped for a moment, but then I pulled your face out of my mental file and there you were—Dr. Owen Cantrell from a show I watch a lot of. I’ve had a little crush on you for four seasons.”
My chest fills up with an odd feeling. I’ve never been shy, but it feels kind of like that. “Okay. So, you also had my voice in your head then, too, didn’t you?”
“Well, truth be told, when I saw you, I hoped and prayed you had bid on me and would win me. I kept telling myself, when I was thinking that was your voice I was hearing, that I was just fooling myself into thinking it was you. And your name just came out, unintentionally.”
“I suppose my leaving cemented it into your head,” I say as I shake my head and think about all the things I could’ve said that would’ve turned this all around. I could’ve just laughed and told her she was wrong.
“Well, yeah. It certainly screamed that you were the man I thought you were.” She laughs a little and I love the way it sounds. I hate the fact I love so much about her.
This is a temporary fix, and that’s all it is!
With that thought, I let her know exactly how I do things and how our time together from here on out will be. “Petra, I want to be honest with you about what I need in a sub.”
“Please tell me, Owen. All I want is to please you.”
Tapping my fingers on the top of my leg, I fight myself not to do what I want—take her out on a date and make huge mistakes that’ll cost me dearly.
After a moment of getting my head straight, I say, “Okay, just like before, your arms will be restricted and your legs too.” Then I think about how long her arms were bound in the monoglove and feel badly about not asking her about that earlier. “Petra, about the monoglove, was it uncomfortable? Were your arms very sore?”
“It was okay. My arms did feel kind of like noodles when Pat took it off, but she rubbed them and it took no time for them to feel normal again. Thank you for asking, Owen.”
“Okay,” I say, and feel weird that she’s calling me by my name. But I’m not going to say anything about it, as I’m about to let her know that I won’t let her talk to me anymore, so that won’t even matter. “Petra, you will still wear a blindfold, and now I’m going to add in a gag. For your comfort, I’ll allow you to pick out the one that works best for you. They’re in the dresser—the top right drawer.”
“A gag?” she asks, then I hear her footsteps as she goes to see what I’m talking about. “Oh, I see a couple of them in here.”
“Good. Just pick out the one that bothers you the least and make sure the person who comes to get you ready for me puts that on you.”
“Owen?”
“Yes, Petra?”
“You know, you could put all that stuff on me and take it all off too. It feels odd for anyone else to do it. And what if a man comes to do it? Then he’ll see me naked.”
“I’ll make sure only females do it, then. And I’m sorry for the odd way it makes you feel. It’s just that I prefer to come in when it’s already done.”
“So you don’t have to look anyone in the eyes?” she asks, then thinks better of it. “No, don’t answer that. It’s none of my business.”
“You’re right,” I say as I lean back and look up at the ceiling. “But you’re also right about the reason I have someone else do that for me. You see, I want the entire thing to be just what it is. I told you before; I want a tight pussy to put my dick in, do the deed, and go. Nothing more than that. Helping you in and out of that stuff would force me to have more to do with you than I want.”
“I can see that now.” Her voice sounds sad.
And this is why I prefer things not to be this way!
“Petra, I feel I need to remind you about this not being personal. It’s not that I don’t think that you seem like a great person. Because I do think that. It’s just that I’ve needed to get this out of my system for nearly a year. You understand, don’t you?”
“Sure, Owen. I get it. Your life is all high tension and you just need a release. One where there’s no talking. Because you just need to get out of your head for a little while and don’t want to talk about why that is.”
“Damn it, Petra. You really get me. How the hell is that?” I ask as I get up and go lay on the bed—the one I’ll sleep in all alone because the idea of going and finding a random woman to fuck isn’t sitting well inside of me for some reason.
“I don’t know how that is, Owen. I just know it, is all. And I want to say something to you before you end our talks. I understand and accept things. I appreciate you and love the way we feel together. Even if you only use my body, I want you to know I will be enjoying it all. Even the touch of your hand sets me on fire. I’ll take what I can get from you and cherish every last second you give me.”
“I felt it too, Petra. We have chemistry, that’s for sure. And who knows—I, might do this a few times then it might get out of my system, and then things might become different. I just don’t want you to ever take anything personally. None of it, okay?”
She makes a tiny laughing sound, then says, “I won’t take it personally. But you need to know that I’ll do whatever you want me to. I’ll go with you places or wait patiently for you to return to me. And I’ll miss you every moment that you’re away. When I find someone coming to me to get me ready for you, I’ll be elated to know that I’ll get to feel you, even if it’s only parts of you and not your whole body. But you need to know that I loved the way your body felt, and I dream of running my hands all over you.”
“Fuck, Petra, you’re making my dick hard.” I laugh as I tell her and run my hand over the bulge in my pants.
“Sorry?” she asks, then giggles. “No, really, I didn’t mean to do that. I just want to be honest with you about how you made me feel. I can do whatever you want, whenever you want. I
am yours. If you still want me, that is.”
“Oh, I want you,” I tell her as I think about another Dom’s hands on her gorgeous body. “It’ll be over my dead body that another man touches you. And thank you for your honesty. I wish I wasn’t such a fucked-up individual. But I am.”
“I wish you wouldn’t think that way about yourself, Owen. You’re a great man. A smart man. A generous man. Fucked up isn’t a thing I’d call you. Nor would anyone else, I bet.”
“Yeah, well, wait until I do you the way I want to. How many great men want to walk in, fuck a woman, then walk away without a word said between them?” I ask her, as I know my kink is in the minority.
“A man with a lot on his mind,” she says. “A man who holds people’s lives in his capable hands, but worries he might lose one. A man with tremendous responsibilities who tries harder than most to be perfect.”
“Petra, you are one amazing woman. Too bad. I’ll come to you when I get ready to. Bye.” I end the call because I simply can’t talk to her anymore.
She’s kind of stealing my heart, and I can’t let that happen!
Petra
I’m bored. There seems to be nothing on television and I can’t concentrate enough to read. My mind goes to Owen all the time. I wonder where he is, what he’s doing, and why he won’t come to me. It’s been three days.
And now that I have his cell number saved, I’m finding it hard to control the urge to call him. It’s like all I can think about!
If I could just talk to him, I think I could get him to stop thinking so negatively about what his little kink is. So, what? He likes to screw and go on about his life. There are far worse kinks than that!
A swift knock comes to the door, and I assume it’s someone sent to pick up my dinner dishes. I ordered a light salad. I’m just not hungry, but I eat something at each meal anyway. I can’t believe Owen can affect me so much when I don’t even know the man, really.
As I take my plate and glass to the door, a chill runs through me as a quick memory of how it felt the first-time Owen touched me fills my mind. Another knock has me shaking my head to clear it and hurrying to the door. “Coming.”
Doctor's Demands: A Submissives’ Secrets Novel Page 7
