She smiled as she thought about him fucking her ass last night. It had been a long time since she’d been taken that way, and the sensations had proved overwhelming. It wasn’t sub space, she whispered to herself, just hard climaxes that seemed to shake the walls.
“Coming out of the club was an odd choice,” she said, pulling her thoughts away from the afternoon’s events, and from last night’s decadence. It was a hard thing to do, though, when her clit tingled at the thought of him bending her over the table and taking her in the exact same way for everyone around to see.
“We’re going to visit a friend of mine,” he said. He glanced at her over the top of his menu. “How about the salmon?”
“Sounds delicious.” She put aside her menu. “Who’s the friend?”
“Her name is Anastasia, Mistress Anastasia.”
Chills spread through Francesca. “What?”
“I’m going to watch while you submit to her. She’s going to punish you for your indiscretions from this afternoon.”
Calm down, calm down, calm down. She reached for her water glass. After she’d swallowed a few sips, she said, “Have you lost your mind? I can’t submit to a fellow Domme. She knows me. She’ll lose all respect for me.”
She closed her mouth, even though she had more to say, as the waiter appeared. Mr. Oliver ordered their meal before he turned his attention back to her.
“That’s an absurd statement. You know as well as I do that Doms/Dommes respect their subs. If they didn’t, it would be abuse. Mistress Anastasia will respect you because I do.”
If she wasn’t careful, she was going to squeeze the glass in her hand until it broke. “No, the next time she and I see each other she’s going to think of me as the Domme who bowed down to Mr. Oliver. Her respect will be gone.”
She watched him take a sip from his wine glass. “That’s probably the most asinine thing you’ve said yet.”
“How dare you say that to me.” She released the glass with a push and it tipped over, the water spreading over the white tablecloth. A waiter appeared immediately to begin the cleanup. Another waiter joined him, and while they worked, Francesca and Mr. Oliver stared at each other across the table. When the pair had replaced everything, Francesca nodded at the waiter.
“Forgive me.”
“No problem, ma’am. We all have accidents.”
And make mistakes. “Yes, we do.” When he was gone, she glared at Mr. Oliver. “Shortbread.”
“Excuse me?” He leaned forward. “You’re calling an end to this?”
“I am.” She toyed with the stem of her wine glass, twirling it in her hand. “You’re trying to change me, to change the rules. We said I’d submit to you for the weekend. There was nothing said about Mistress Anastasia, who knows me.”
The slow shake of his head angered her. “I’m not trying to change you, Francesca, I’m trying to show you that you are many realms that make up one kingdom. I thought I made that clear last night. As your Dom for the weekend, I want to watch you submit to Mistress Anastasia. As my sub for the weekend, you should be willing to follow instructions, no matter how far out of your comfort zone they take you. Do you stay within the rules with your subs?”
Realization stuck her that yes, she did. They generally followed the same pattern, even if they changed the scenario a little. They were mostly the same. She didn’t have them lick boots, or stand in corners. She yelled at them for being bad boys, spanked them, watched them get fucked by their wives, and then sent them on their way. That was going to have to change. At least she’d figured out something good from this weekend.
“I repeat, shortbread.”
“Fine.” He threw his napkin on the table, then picked it back up. “I would love to finish our dinner, however. Afterward, I’ll return you to your car, and you can go back to being a one-dimensional businesswoman who occasionally spanks men’s asses.”
“How dare you!” She pounded her fist on the table, which attracted the attention of their fellow diners. She murmured an apology to them, and leaned across the table. “Who the hell do you think you are?”
“I’m the man who has noticed quite a few things about you this weekend.” His voice was calm, soft, and that pissed her off even more. “I noticed you went into sub space last night, and I noticed this afternoon that every time you moved the tray, or in some way did something else you thought would displease me, you were apologetic. Pleasing me meant something to you.”
Mr. Oliver closed his mouth when the server appeared with their salads. After the man left, he continued. “I’ve tried to explain this to you before, but it appears you didn’t hear me. Let me try it this way. Imagine yourself as a cartoon character. You see yourself as colorful, three-dimensional and perfect. I see you as colorful, yes, but as a stick character that has allowed herself to fit into a frame, and stay there. Tell me you didn’t enjoy submitting to me this weekend.”
The urge to scream at him that she liked to be fucked was strong. But they were in a very public, and classy place. She needed to find some other way to express herself. She gave him a broad smile. “You have a very nice…package. It pleased me to…have you deliver it to me in the fashion that…made me want to tip you.”
His laughter was loud and strong. But when he spoke, his voice was only for her. “Oh Francesca, you are original. It’s not just the delivery you enjoyed. The buildup was perfect, for the both of us. Tell me you didn’t care for being fed, or enjoy kneeling by my side, then standing in the corner while I admired your luscious behind.”
Damn him! “It was…okay.” She shrugged. “But I wouldn’t want a steady diet of it. And I won’t submit to Mistress Anastasia for your amusement.” Oh crap, she’d gone too far.
“Is that what you think, that I’m laughing at you? That I’m trying to see how far I can get the harsh Mistress C to go before she caves in?”
Francesca wasn’t quite sure, but she thought there was a look of pain on his face, one that quickly disappeared. “I’ve been trying to teach you something about yourself, something I noticed in you the first night we were together. Obviously, I failed.”
He summoned the waiter. “Could you have our meals boxed up, please? We’ll be leaving.”
The waiter disappeared with the untouched salad plates, and Francesca looked out at the night sky. She listened as Mr. Oliver made a phone call, told the person on the other end they would not be coming over that evening and that no, they didn’t need to reschedule.
After he’d paid the bill and they were on their way back to the club, she broke the silence that had reigned for so long by saying, “You know, we could be friends with benefits.”
“I want more than that,” he replied. “I would not be satisfied with a sexual relationship that had no other component, and neither would you. You just don’t want to admit it.”
“Humph,” she uttered. “You’ve had relationships like that in the past.”
“Not with you,” he said as he pulled up next to her car. “I think you’re underestimating the feelings I have where you’re concerned. Is it love? Not yet, but it could very well be that. I knew from the first time I saw you that I wanted to form a bond with you. If we were friends with benefits, I would be lying to myself, and I don’t do that.”
Now how the hell was she supposed to respond to that? He’d just basically told her that he was falling in love with her.
“You can’t possibly know that, because you don’t know me.”
His smile was soft. “I have a feeling I know you better than you know yourself. There’s an image you project, and you think that’s you. When you gave up control, when you soared, I saw something totally different; and before you say anything, let me say one more time, even though you don’t believe me, you can be both Dominant and submissive, depending on the people you’re with. Now, you need to leave before I let my baser needs rule, and I take you back upstairs and introduce your backside to my whip.”
Her pussy moistened in an instant, a
nd a large part of her wanted to say, “Go ahead and do it, I dare you.” Instead, she undid her seatbelt and put her hand on the door handle.
“Thanks for the orgasms,” she said, fighting back a laugh. “You’re rather good at providing them.”
“When you acknowledge all of yourself and want to trade your kingdom for my corner, come back. I’ll introduce you to all new pleasures.” She unlatched the door, stopping when he called her name. “Don’t come back unless you’re truly willing to explore yourself. I won’t play games with you.”
The only answer to that she could come up with was something sarcastic, so she exited the car and headed toward her own vehicle, sad that the weekend was over, but glad that she was keeping her identity intact.
* * * *
“I’m not talking to you about this.”
“Why not?”
The phone line crackled, and Francesca sat back down behind her desk. “Because, Francis, you’re my brother. I’m not talking to you about sex.”
“We’re not talking about sex, we’re talking about submission. I’ve discussed this with Straith, and he and I both think you should listen to Mr. Oliver.”
Francesca clasped the phone in both hands and shook it out in front of her. In her mind it was her brother she was shaking, a man who thought he knew everything and that he was always right. She could hear him yelling her name, and she let out a sharp cry of frustration.
Sally appeared at the door, alarm written all over her face.
“It’s alright, Sally, I’m just talking to my know-it-all brother. However, your little ass is in deep trouble for letting him know about the Mr. Oliver situation.”
“But I didn’t,” Sally threw up her hands as if warding off an attack, “honest!”
The look of astonishment on her assistant’s face told Francesca she was telling the truth. But if Sally hadn’t told her, then who had? She certainly hadn’t told him. He was the one who called her to ask why she was keeping herself from forming a relationship with the Dom.
“I’ve known lots of switches, Francesca.” Francis’s voice sounded as if he were a million miles away. She brought the phone back to her ear. “They are perfectly happy, well-adjusted people who…”
“Who told you about this?” Damn him for lecturing her!
“Straith.”
Her mouth fell open at the name of one of the Fingertip Fantasy managers. “Don’t lie to me. He lives on the East Coast, thousands of miles away from here.”
“True, but he and McDunn are friends, have been for a long time.” She could hear noises in the background, as if a piece of furniture were being moved, and then she heard her sister-in-law laugh. How she envied her brother for the relationship he had with Saffron.
What had Francis told her the day he’d met Saffron? Something about how sometimes you just knew when you saw someone that you wanted that person in your life. That’s basically what Mr. Oliver had said to her, that he’d known from the minute he’d seen her that he wanted her in his life.
“Are you listening to me?”
“No!” That was the truth, even if she had been woolgathering, he didn’t need to know it. “I told you, I’m not talking about sex with my brother. I don’t give a damn if you are a Dom and we run companies together. This is about my private life.”
“Fine. Straith!”
What was he doing now?
“I’m putting Straith on the phone. Talk to him.”
Francesca put the phone down on her desk and pounded her fists against the surface.
Sally once again appeared in the doorway.
“Go away, and shut the door.”
“Yes, Ma’am.” Her assistant left quickly, and Francesca felt a pang of regret. She’d have to give her a good spanking before the New Year.
In the week since her little experiment at Mr. Oliver’s, she’d managed a scene with her sub and his wife, where they’d informed her they would be branching off on their own, something she told them she thought was a good idea.
Her other subs had begged off until after the holidays, and she definitely needed to top someone.
“Francesca.” Straith’s voice rang out and she grabbed the phone off the desk.
“Sorry, listen, Straith, I don’t want a lecture.”
The Dom’s clipped British accent made her smile. “Sometimes we get things we don’t want. Now, there are many people in the BDSM community who don’t believe in switches, but there are a great many of us who know these people exist, and they make wonderful Doms, and subs. They know themselves, and they know what they need to be happy.”
There it was again, someone telling her she didn’t know herself. Well, they could all go straight to…
“Did you come, hard?”
Even though he was thousands of miles away, she could imagine the Dom standing there in pressed slacks and a shirt, looking stern. If someone didn’t know him very well, they might think him a nerd with muscles.
“I don’t want to…”
“Please answer me, and be honest.”
She really didn’t want to get into this. “Yes,” slipped out of her mouth before she could stop it.
There was a silence, and she imagined him pondering her answer. “Sub space?”
Oh damn, why did he have to ask that? “Yes.”
This time he spoke with no hesitation. “You’d be doing yourself a disservice if you ignored that. I can assure you of Mr. Oliver’s integrity, and I stand behind him when he says he doesn’t want to make Mistress C disappear. He wants to help you grow, to develop a relationship with him that is pleasurable for you both.”
That little sneak. “He called you about me?”
“He asked for advice on your situation, and we discussed it. I informed him you were, indeed, the most stubborn woman I have ever met, and if you did not go to him, then the relationship was doomed. May I be the first to say that if it does, you’re a fool.”
“Right, like you’d want a Domme in your life.”
“Actually, I had a switch once, and the relationship went quite well. I rather enjoyed watching her top someone, and then having her submit to me afterward. It was quite pleasurable, for both of us.”
“If it was so pleasurable, then why did it end?”
He exhaled softly. “I’m much too busy to be a fulltime Dom, Francesca. Being in a scene here and there is fine, but once I started my position at the resort, I simply didn’t have the time to devote to the relationship that I needed. She’s very happy with the couple she found.”
Francesca laughed. “As always, Straith, talking to you is enlightening. But I assure you, I’m no fool.”
“Then I will expect to hear from Mr. Oliver that he has collared you. Good evening, Francesca. I hope it is pleasant for you.”
The phone went dead and she stared at it for a few minutes. “Collared? Not in this lifetime.”
She swung around her chair, stopping the movement when a knock came at the door. Sally opened it after Francesca had given permission.
“I’m going now, unless you’d like to spank me.”
“No, Sally, go and play with your new Dom.” The smile that lit up Sally’s face as she fingered the thin leather strap around her neck filled Francesca with a world of sadness. Her assistant was so happy, and Francesca was alone, and fighting against everything people were telling her.
“Thanks, I’ll see you Monday.” She skipped out of the office and Francesca started to spin the chair again.
Why couldn’t the stubborn little bastard meet her halfway? She was perfectly willing to submit to him on some levels, but collars were out. What was it about that simple piece of equipment that made subs smile so much?
Belonging. The word rang out in her mind. Trust, bonding, caring, knowing someone was part of you.
“Oh, holy hell, why not give it a shot.” She pushed away from the desk. “I can’t have Straith thinking I’m a fool.”
She drove to Mr. Oliver’s in record time. There were a f
ew cars there, but she knew that most of the action would occur after ten. The subs at the door greeted her by name, telling her that Mr. Oliver had already gone upstairs to his apartment.
She headed across the floor, pushing the button to release the lock on the private staircase that led to his rooms.
“You can’t go up there.” A sub stepped in front of her. “I’ll have to call and announce you, first.”
“Do you know who I am?”
The sub swallowed hard. “Yes, Mistress C, but you still can’t go up there. We have express instructions from Mr. Oliver. No one goes upstairs without his approval.”
She pushed in the code to unlock the gate. “Try and stop me.”
As Francesca started up the stairs, she heard a loud, “Wait, please, oh crap.”
By the time she got to the top, she knew Mr. Oliver was expecting her. The door was open. He sat on the couch, his legs crossed, his hands in his lap.
“Trying to push around my staff, I hear.”
“That little worm,” she said. “Listen, I’m willing to try, but I think it’s unfair of you to say that it’s all or nothing. I think it’s a lot that I’m here, that I’m willing to…”
“Corner, missy.”
Francesca crossed her arms over her chest, feigning anger even as excitement coursed through her. “My kingdom, in other words, my mind and body, for the corner. I believe that statement also had something about a freshly fucked ass in there.”
“I’ll fuck your ass later. Right now, I want to know you’re sincere. Go to the corner. Prove you will submit to me when you come through that door.”
When she came through that door—not at all times, just when she came through that door. She went to the area he’d indicated, putting her nose against the wall, clasping her hands behind her back.
“This is the start of something special,” he said, “something we can both treasure. But before then, I believe we have an errant employee to deal with. Would you like to spank him while I watch?”
My Kingdom for a Corner Page 8
