The Boss

by Monica Belle

  By the time we’d finished lunch I was feeling pleasantly full and more than a little sleepy, with the excesses of the previous two nights finally catching up with me. I went up to my room to sort my things out but simply sat down on the bed, suddenly overcome with melancholy. All my life I’d been in that same room, and it was very much me: my bed, my things strewn all over the place, my posters on the walls, all of it very much me and very much not Stephen. He was tidy, almost obsessively so, while I loved to live in chaos. His flat was intensely masculine, and while that was sure to change I couldn’t quite see myself in his room blending together different colours of eye shadow to try to get the perfect purple. Then there was the row of dolls and bears who’d sat along the top of my wardrobe, untouched for nearly ten years, but still mine and I couldn’t imagine bringing them. They’d seen enough, God knows, and it was the most ridiculous thought, but I didn’t want them to watch while I was being spanked.

  For a good ten minutes I just sat there staring into space, feeling deeply homesick. Reminding myself of how good I’d felt that morning didn’t help at all, and I only managed a wan smile when Mum called upstairs for me to help with the washing-up. That at least would change, as Stephen had a dishwasher and to judge by his performance so far was too precious about his things to let me anywhere near them. I hadn’t even been allowed to polish his wine glasses because he was scared I might snap the stems.

  When I’d finished I went out, having decided that all I really needed to take with me was a bag of clothes and a few obvious basics from the bathroom. I would start shopping in my lunch break on Monday and keep going until I had a decent wardrobe again, only in a completely different style, what Mum would have considered a grown-up style.

  I’d put on jeans and a sloppy top, which was just as well as I was getting close to Josie’s house when she pulled up beside me and motioned that I should get on the back of her bike. She started off the instant I was mounted up, forcing me to cling on tight to her waist. After what I’d been thinking about, and saying, with Martin I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious but at least she didn’t know. Or so I thought. Her first words as she took off her helmet sending blood rushing to my face.

  ‘What’s with the kinky fantasies, you little perve?’

  There was only one thing it could be, as I was very sure indeed nobody else knew about what I’d been getting up to with Stephen. I immediately felt bad for Josie, embarrassed for myself and angry at Martin.

  ‘Jesus, can’t anybody keep their mouth shut around here? Sorry, Josie, I . . .’

  She stepped forward and hugged me, a purely friendly gesture, but she couldn’t resist giving me a swat on my bum as she moved back.

  ‘Don’t worry about it. I know you, and I know what men are like. He wanted to get off on some fake lezzie fantasy, right?’

  ‘Something like that, yes.’

  She shook her head, grinning, and I let myself relax, only to have the blood rush back to my face, hotter than ever as she spoke again.

  ‘So how’d you really get the marks on your bum then?’

  I didn’t know what to say, whether to claim Martin had been lying or that I’d been playing about with somebody. From the small, sly smile on Josie’s face I knew she wasn’t going to be fooled. I shrugged, my face the colour of beetroot as I answered.

  ‘My . . . my new boyfriend, he’s a bit kinky.’

  ‘A bit?’

  ‘OK, seriously kinky. Look, please don’t tell anyone, Josie, you know what they’re like. Please?’

  She was trying not to laugh as she answered.

  ‘OK, I promise. So what’s the deal, he hit you with a cane? I know you, Fizz, so how come he’s not wearing his balls as an extra pair of tonsils?’

  ‘I don’t know, I honestly don’t. He just makes me feel different, like I want to be . . . to be punished. Not nastily, there’s nothing nasty about it . . . not really. I don’t know, Josie . . .’

  I trailed off, close to tears. She reached out to put a hand on my shoulder and I gave in to my emotions, the tears streaming down my face even as I continued to attempt to explain.

  ‘He likes to be in control of me, and to punish me when I’m bad . . . naughty, and I love it. I don’t love it, I crave it. It’s like an addiction, and I really, really do not want everybody to know. You understand, don’t you?’

  ‘Hey, come on, Fizz. You know I understand. What do you think it’s like being the only dyke in town?’

  I managed a smile.

  ‘Tough, I suppose.’

  ‘Yeah, it’s tough, and you’ve always stuck up for me. Now stop crying or you’ll set me off, you big baby.’

  She took me in her arms, hugging me close to her, but only for a moment before she broke away.

  ‘Better watch it, or we’ll set the curtains twitching.’

  ‘We do that anyway. Steve says you’ve got a gig?’

  ‘Yeah, another one from Billy. There’s this club in Norwich, the Flying Fortress, which is really popular with the Yanks. It’s a jazz place, but they’ve managed to get us in, or else they don’t know what we play. We even get paid!’

  ‘Shit! Great, so when is it?’

  ‘Next Saturday.’

  ‘Brilliant, only it’s going to take a bit of explaining to Stephen. He doesn’t even know about Rubber Dollies, and he thinks I’m this sweet, innocent little thing . . . well, maybe not so innocent.’

  ‘Why tell him?’

  ‘Because I’m going to be living with him. I can’t just bugger off with no explanation, can I?’

  ‘You could say it was a girls’ night out or something. You can change here.’

  ‘I’m going to have to tell him some time.’

  ‘Your call.’

  11

  JOSIE WAS RIGHT that it was my call, and it was not an easy one. I’d have far preferred to just carry on as before, but as Rubber Dollies still seemed to be alive despite all our difficulties I wasn’t going to be the one to break it up. I was going to have to tell Stephen, but the thought of him attending a gig was hideously embarrassing, so I could only hope he’d accept it as part of my life that didn’t involve him.

  When he came to pick me up he was astonished to find that I had only one bag, and admitted it.

  ‘I had visions of you standing on the pavement surrounded by furniture and piles of knick-knacks.’

  ‘Not me. I travel light.’

  ‘So I see. I’m sorry about the drums too, but maybe we could sort something out.’

  ‘Don’t worry, they’re better off where they are, as long as you don’t mind me going off to practise now and then.’

  ‘Not at all. I don’t want to tie you down.’

  ‘Oh, I was rather hoping . . .’

  ‘Very funny. No doubt something can be arranged, if you insist, although it’s not really my thing. Seriously, you’re to come and go as you please, and not to feel I’m in any way holding you back. I do realise there’s quite an age gap between us.’

  ‘Thanks, and talking about drums, my friend Sam has set up a gig for our band next Saturday, in a jazz club in Norwich.’

  ‘Jazz? Jazz has a certain style, I’ll admit.’

  ‘We’re not playing jazz, we’re playing retro punk.’

  ‘Ah, I suppose I might have guessed from your taste in music. In that case, I hope you won’t be offended if I don’t attend?’

  ‘Not at all. I know you’d hate it. Thanks.’

  I kissed him, thoroughly happy with the outcome. It was surprising to find him so accommodating when he was such a control freak in the bedroom and the office, but I wasn’t complaining. He’d started the car, and spoke again as we pulled out into the road.

  ‘Will you want to come back late, or stay here?’

  ‘Um . . . I don’t know. It might be really late and we’ll all be together in the van, so it might be best if I crashed here. Sorry, I don’t mean to spoil the weekend, especially when there’s so much work on during the week.’
r />   ‘Don’t worry, we can make up for it on Friday night.’

  I knew how, and answered his big dirty grin with a smile. Maybe life was going to be good after all.

  We drove south and east by the now familiar route. Once back at Stephen’s I quickly found myself in the same state of bliss I’d been enjoying before and wondering why I’d felt so upset. It wasn’t even the wrong time of the month. The evening was also warm and dry, so we ate outside, on the strip of lawn between the mill and the river, sipping cold white wine with smoked salmon and a potato salad.

  Once we’d watched the sun set behind the row of tall poplars on the opposite bank of the river we went indoors and to bed. This time our sex was slow and loving and equal which, while beautiful in its way, failed to bring out the full agonising intensity of being under his command and his hand.

  We were up early on Monday and work was absolutely frantic, with endless comings and goings from the council, who seemed to have an infinite capacity for detail and an infinite number of committees, all of which wanted to stick their oar in. Stephen seemed to regard it all as some great game, and I tried to take the same attitude.

  I did at least manage to get my shopping done, using most of my first pay cheque to buy myself two more smart skirt suits and a lot of the very feminine casual wear Stephen seemed to like, particularly long, loose skirts and girlie blouses. Hockford being Hockford, that sort of thing was far easier to buy than punk gear, most of which I’d got on the Net.

  Tuesday was much the same. I’d gone up to the council offices to explain to Mr Phelps that if we placed a camera in the position his committee had decided on it would actually be mounted in the centre of a plate glass window. Their receptionist and I were getting quite friendly, hardly surprising when I was seeing more of her than my family, and she greeted me with a smile and nodded me through security. Mr Phelps wasn’t in his office, but as I passed the committee room next door I saw that he was at the table, along with Mrs Shelby, Mr Burrows and various others I recognised. I waited, unsure what to do, but they had seen me and Mr Burrows beckoned for me to come in, speaking immediately.

  ‘Ah, Felicity, I was hoping Mr English and Mr Minter would be coming up?’

  ‘It’s only a minor detail, surely?’

  ‘Far from it, I assure you. Do sit down anyway.’

  Puzzled, I took a seat. Mr Phelps began to speak, only to stop immediately as both Stephen and Paul appeared at the door, obviously summoned almost immediately after I’d left the warehouse. Mr Phelps began again, in his usual curt manner.

  ‘I regret to say that a serious difficulty has arisen.’

  It was Stephen who answered him, with the same blend of energy and optimism he always used when facing the council.

  ‘Nothing too disastrous, I trust? We are now fully ready to begin installation, saving the matter Miss Cotton was here to discuss and one or two other minor details.’

  He cast me a questioning glance, but I could only shrug in return as Mr Phelps went on.

  ‘This is more than a minor detail. In fact, we will be unable to go ahead with the installation.’

  Stephen looked genuinely astonished.

  ‘Unable to go ahead? But, Mr Phelps, we have the contracts signed and agreement on –’

  ‘Nevertheless we are unable to go ahead. I have a direct instruction from the Home Office to that effect.’

  ‘The Home Office?’

  I could see Mr Phelps swelling slightly as his sense of importance rose.

  ‘The Home Office, who in turn have received a communication from the American Embassy to the effect that nobody in Hockford, public or private, may erect or use any system of security cameras that employs facial recognition technology.’

  Both Stephen and Paul now looked completely stunned.

  ‘What has the American Embassy got to do with it? This is hardly their jurisdiction, and –’

  Mr Phelps broke in again.

  ‘It is a matter of military security. The Commander at Hockwold Airbase has made a specific request that we do not store facial recognition data on his personnel, nor any other American personnel.’

  Mr Burrows added a remark.

  ‘I fear your system has become the victim of its own efficiency, Stephen, and unfortunately we have no choice but to comply.’

  I really thought Stephen was going to swear, but he managed to remain calm as he answered.

  ‘Can I assume that the contract will be honoured as it stands?’

  ‘Certainly.’

  That was that essentially, although they went on for quite a bit. Eventually we left, crossing the road directly to the Bull by unspoken consent. As soon as he’d put a bottle of white wine and three glasses on the table Stephen spoke again.

  ‘How in hell’s name did the Yanks get wind of it?’

  I could guess but I wasn’t saying anything. It was only then that it really sank in. I’d done it, maybe not on purpose, maybe not by some bold and clever scheme, but I’d done it anyway, simply by warning a boyfriend not to get horny with me unless he wanted us to be on public record. Quite possibly I’d also made myself redundant, but that no longer mattered. I was the boss’s girlfriend.

  Paul shook his head.

  ‘Bloody Yanks. So what now?’

  Stephen considered for a moment before answering.

  ‘Well, we still have our stock. The basic principle is still sound, so I suggest we start up again somewhere else, somewhere that isn’t crawling with Americans.’

  ‘Not East Anglia then?’

  ‘No. Hmm . . . you didn’t tell any of your American friends about the system did you, Felicity?’

  ‘No, no, absolutely not. I’m not surprised they heard about it though. Everybody who works for the council knew, just about. One of the women there probably has a boyfriend on the base or something.’

  ‘No doubt you’re right. Damn.’

  He broke off to take a swallow of wine, then spoke again.

  ‘That leaves us at a bit of a loose end then, except for deciding where we go next. You will be staying with us, won’t you, Felicity?’

  ‘Yes, of course, if you want me?’

  ‘Absolutely. You know how everything works, and I don’t suppose it would be much fun for you playing house in a strange town?’

  ‘No, that’s true. Do you have any idea where we’ll be going?’

  ‘Not really, no. We need a small town or the logistics become impractical, and it has to have a high crime rate for the sort of thing the ZX is good at stopping. I told you Hockford had the highest per capita rate of taking and driving in the country, didn’t I, which is why we chose to set up here in the first place. The second was somewhere in South Wales, if I remember rightly.’

  Paul frowned.

  ‘Wasn’t it that place outside Manchester?’

  I didn’t really care either way. They were equally remote, giving me a touch of fear and homesickness at the thought of breaking off my ties with Hockford and even Suffolk so completely. Before, I’d always felt tied down, but suddenly my past life seemed idyllic, at least compared to starting again in another small town where I didn’t even know anybody. I’d be completely dependent on Stephen, both financially and emotionally. The only other person I’d even know, at least at first, would be Paul, and while he was a nice enough guy we really didn’t have much in common.

  Yet I’d be earning money, and I told myself I’d soon make new friends. What sort of friends was a different matter. At best it seemed likely I’d always have to keep a part of myself secret, and while that had been part of the thrill when I was first with Stephen it didn’t seem so appealing in the long term.

  They’d begun to discuss the relocation, leaving me to sip my wine and deal with my mixed emotions. I did want to be with Stephen, badly, but the cost of doing so seemed to keep rising. Was I even in love with him? I wasn’t sure. I wasn’t even sure if I understood what love was. It was supposed to mean that he was the sole object of my affection, wa
sn’t it? All other men should have been beneath my notice, but I still had affection for my friends. Maybe it was just the sex I was in love with, and particularly the spankings. Stephen alone brought out those feelings in me, but as Martin and I had lain together in the long grass with his huge hand cupping my bottom I’d been wondering how it would feel from him, and from Josie too, who wasn’t even a man.

  I was going to get drunk if I didn’t leave the wine bottle alone, and I swallowed what remained in my glass before putting it down. Paul and Stephen were now discussing the rival virtues of graffiti and car crime for pissing off town councils, but I at last managed to get a word in.

  ‘Do you mind if I go shopping?’

  Stephen responded with a casual gesture.

  ‘Go ahead. There are a few things I’ll need you to do in the office, but there’s no rush any more.’

  ‘Thanks.’

  I kissed him and left the pub, feeling slightly tipsy and very mixed up. Even shopping didn’t help, because all the things I needed meant one more step towards the new me, and I wasn’t sure how well I got on with her. After spending ten minutes staring into windows I changed my mind and decided to take a walk instead, only to stop as I saw that Martin, Billy and several of their friends were seated in Buzz Shack.

  Eventually I was going to have to tell Martin that I was now with Stephen, but I really didn’t want to do it in front of a group of his friends. I walked past, only to reconsider. It was hard to bear the thought of how they’d look at me if I simply said I’d chosen Stephen over Martin and that was that. On the other hand, I now had an excuse.

  As far as he was aware I was a loyal employee of Black Knight Securities but simply didn’t fancy being caught on camera while he fondled my buttocks. By passing on what I’d told him about the cameras he had put my job at risk, and I was hardly likely to be happy about it. Still I hesitated. I liked Martin and I really didn’t want to cut him off. Then again I’d told myself I’d be faithful to Stephen and it was better to let Martin think I was angry with him and so make a clean break of it. Finally I turned on my heel, determined to go through with it, but still unsure if I was being an angel or a total bitch.