by Cynthia Dane
It’s like a stab to my heart. Not because I think Ian is incompetent, but because I like Caroline, and seeing her fret like this is not only so unlike her, but reminds me that anything can happen to our psyche as we age and face unpleasant facts. No, Caroline isn’t anywhere near death that I know of, but I can imagine starting menopause is a harsh reminder of one’s mortality.
“Well…” I look away, blushing. No woman wants to admit in front of another that she’s fucking her son.
Not that I have to admit it.
But…
“Ian and I are fairly good friends,” I finally continue. “I wouldn’t worry about him. I have my ways of keeping him in line.” The flash of a smile on my face is almost genuine.
“My dear… what exactly does ‘good friends’ mean?”
The smile falls off my face. “Excuse me?”
“I knew it.” She puts the coffee down and stands, shuffling toward me, like a multi-colored ghost wafting toward another soul. “Please don’t deny it, Kathryn! I’ve seen the way my son looks at you these days. A mother knows!”
Her giddiness would be sweet if it weren’t for one painful fact – it won’t work between us. “I don’t know what you’re getting at.”
“Stop playing coy. It’s not a good look on you.” Caroline sniffs and puts her hand on my shoulder. “You and Ian are seeing each other… aren’t you?”
I’m looking into this woman’s glistening eyes, full of hope and encouragement. Fuck me. In the realm of the world, I couldn’t do much better than Caroline for a mother-in-law of some sort. God knows she’s more of a mother to me than my own.
“I…”
“Dominic told me anyway! Stop hiding it!”
Adrenaline courses through my veins. I’m not scared. I swear! “What?”
“He told me the other night that Ian told him about you two playing some come-hither game. Now either my son is a dirty liar who needs a talking to about protecting a woman’s reputation, or you’re not being forthcoming with me. Either option is not pleasant!”
Now’s the time for me to show some maturity. Come on, Kathryn. She clearly knows. I’m not happy that she knows – let alone that Ian is blabbing to a bigger blabbermouth like his father or mother – but it can’t be helped. If I keep denying it or pretending that I don’t know what she’s talking about, I’m just going to make things harder for myself. Plus, it sounds like I’m ashamed, and I hardly am.
“All right, but it’s casual.”
A smile as bright as the sunlight pouring through the window behind me lights up Caroline’s cheekbones. “Oh, it’s time for me to start going back to church, because my prayers have been answered.” She bends down and kisses me on the cheek, like we’re suddenly legal family. “A smart girl like you with my boy? Why, I…”
“I said it’s casual.” Why won’t people believe this?
“Yes, yes, casual for now, but…”
“Caroline!” I leap up, not intending to get in her face, but hey, she got in mine so it’s only fair. “Your son and I are so fundamentally different that it could never be anything but casual. We’re… together… for now, but only until we find better partners that are more suitable.” That’s what I believe, anyway. “I don’t want to get into the details with my lover’s mother. Trust me when I say that it’s casual, and it has to stay that way.”
“But Kathryn…”
“No, no. Listen, I like you. I like your son well enough. I have nothing against your family or the idea of being a more formal part of your lives one day. Who knows? Maybe he’ll drag me to a dinner now that he’s let it slip to both of his parents that we’re fooling around, but we’re not getting married. We are definitely not having babies. We’ll be lucky to make it more than a few weeks at this rate. Please don’t put any pressure on a relationship that probably shouldn’t be happening anyway.”
She looks as if I told her that Ian’s dead. No, just our potential love. Not that I want to ever call it that.
“I’m sorry, Kathryn,” she finally says. “I’ve overstepped my bounds. Please forgive me.”
She takes her leave of my apartment. If she had a tail, it might be tucked between her legs. I feel bad. I don’t want to hurt her feelings. She’s being a mother who is excited her only son is supposedly making a good girlfriend choice. In any other circumstance, I would be pleased to know that my boyfriend’s mother thought so highly of me. God knows I’ve heard the horror stories, especially in my family’s social circle.
Except I can’t let people think that Ian and I are anything serious. It’s too complicated to explain, and so few people would understand what’s going on.
I can’t even tell Eva, who I catch standing in my room dropping eaves, that I want Ian Mathers to “train” me to indulge in my latent submissive tendencies.
This is the type of secret I can’t stand keeping. Yet I have to, for my sake, and his.
For the sake of my heart, which feels a little broken.
I don’t know why.
Chapter 9
IAN
These meetings are going to be the death of me. Death by boredom. Even with Kathryn sitting next to me, looking like a yellow diamond sparkling in the harsh ultraviolet lights.
It’s Wednesday. Do you know what that means?
Her pencil keeps tapping against the table, to the point I’ve had to covertly reach over and stifle the sounds with my hand multiple times. Each time she blushes. Any other day and she wouldn’t blush, but she knows what’s happening tonight.
Tonight, we will begin her training.
My mind is at odds with my body. My mind knows that this is more about her needs and wants than my own. Yet my body is so hot to the idea of bending her over, tying her hands behind her back, and making her scream the word master that I’ve been hiding a hard-on all day.
Fuck her. Fuck me.
I’m sure we’ll get around to it today.
She doesn’t need to be so nervous, though. The collar is sitting in my condo, waiting to be placed around her neck – with her permission, of course. I’m not going to be a Dom with her until that happens. Right now it’s her and me as we always are. Yet I’m sure it’s not that simple in her mind.
Her cunning mind that is really not on its game today.
Of course, this does not look good in front of the Andrews, who are getting ready to sign on the dotted line that would transfer the deed and keys of The Grand over to the Mathers family. Good thing Kathryn isn’t officially part of the buy.
Do you know who is?
The woman crashing the meeting, her coiffed hair tangling in her earrings without a care.
My mother was not invited to this meeting. Yet there she is, sitting across from Kathryn and me, her eyes darting between us with the goofiest smile on her face. I look to my father, who tightens up and clears his throat. He won’t meet my eyes.
The gabby bastard. What was it, Dad? Did your ex-wife grab you by the balls as she always does and demand to know what I’ve told you about my love life recently?
Is this how she keeps finding out about me?
The papers my ass! See if I tell my father shit again.
Kathryn stiffens so hard that I think she might be turning into a piece of wood. I graze my hand against her knee beneath the table and feel her relax. This isn’t going to get any easier with both of my parents making asses out of themselves.
The Andrews don’t seem to notice, and continue the meeting with both of our real estate lawyers present.
By the end of the meeting, I feel like the only thing that’s been accomplished is finding out that my parents know. What I don’t anticipate is what my mother says to me after the meeting, when we’re alone in the half-destroyed lobby of The Grand with the signs of protestors still marching back and forth across the street.
“I had the most lovely talk with Kathryn on Monday,” she says in a low, cheerful voice. “You’ll never guess what she
told me about you and her…”
Oh, I can guess. I can guess to the point I’m glaring at the back of Kathryn’s French twist without any regard for who sees me doing it. Like my mother.
“Don’t be that way.” She pats me hard on the shoulder. “You take care of that sweet girl so she doesn’t run away screaming from you. I want no fewer than two grandkids. I want a grandson with the dark curls you used to have, and a granddaughter with blond locks like hers! I want mini-yous!”
I’m going to throw up.
“I don’t think this is the best time to discuss this,” I say through gritted teeth. “And if you only came here to talk about Kathryn, then I’m afraid you picked a terribly poor time. I’m here to work.”
Standing up to your mother’s meddling is a dangerous thing. Especially when she has a reputation for being notoriously meddlesome. Just ask my father.
Just ask Kathryn, apparently!
My mother finally makes her grand exit a few minutes later, stopping to whisper something in my father’s ear. The man glances at me straight away, and I know it’s not good.
He gives me an apologetic look. He’s the only man who knows better than I do what a handful Caroline Grant-Mathers can be.
A handful of money, but a handful nonetheless.
Once most of the company is gone, I steal some time to approach Kathryn and lightly touch her shoulder. She’s talking to her assistant before the girl goes home for the evening, so now is as good a time as any.
“See you later,” I whisper into her ear. Kathryn shudders beneath my breath, but she does not change the power in her voice as she speaks with those around her. Good. I prefer her like this when we’re in public.
We’re not leaving together. We’re having dinner separately, and then meeting at my place later. She needs to go home and change, anyway.
I sent her very specific instructions on what to wear again. What can I say? Part of being a Dom is getting to dress up your sub. Not every Dom does that, but I get a kick out of it. Seeing her dressed up as I want her… it’s part of the fantasy, the eroticism.
Now it’s also a part of her training.
I go home, alone, after seeing Valerie off with her husband and kid who came to pick her up. Usually I walk to The Grand since it isn’t too far away from my condo, but this morning it was raining so I brought my car.
Take-out is my dinner. While I eat, I run around my home, cleaning things up and attempting to set some ambiance. Kathryn is… delicate. Even when we weren’t being kinky, she was still hesitant when we had sex last time. So I need to step up my romantic game.
Just because I’m training her, pushing her boundaries and turning her into a new person she’s never met before… doesn’t mean it can’t feel romantic.
More candles. More mood lighting. More of me fighting back my hard-on because I can’t stop thinking about her bending over my bed, pulling up her skirt and exposing her ass to me for a hard spanking.
The more I think about that, the more incensed I become. She needs to be punished.
She told my mother about us.
She needs to be punished.
***
Kathryn’s sitting in my living room, perched on the edge of the couch. She sat there on her own. I told you, she’s not wearing the collar yet. She doesn’t have to obey any commands under pain of just punishment.
I kinda wish she was.
She’s turned down a glass of wine. I ask her again if she wants one. It would be a good idea to have some alcohol to relax before we begin.
Instead, I’m doing all the relaxing.
Hey, I get it. I’m being myself. We’re in my home, on my turf. It’s Katie who has to psych herself up and get into the mood. So when I sit beside her and press my wineglass to her lips, urging her to have a sip, she finally relents.
I kiss her shoulder. Her bare shoulder.
She dressed as I asked. “Dress like you were doing a scene as a Domme.”
Kathryn’s black corset is stitched with bright red ribbons. It pushes her breasts up, and when she moves quickly, the mounds jiggle in such an enticing way that I can barely restrain myself from kissing them. Black garters run down her legs and into a pair of lace-up boots. To my delight, her corset has an easy-access place where I can get to her wet slit without having to completely disrobe her or attempt to pull fabric out of the way so I can fuck her.
Her hair is up in that lovely twist. Immaculate. Stunning with tiny black beads laced between her strands of golden hair. Her long neck looks even longer without jewelry adorning it. Although she is wearing those dangling earrings, per my request. There’s something about them that is so regal.
It’s probably the way they jangled against her skin the last time I drove my cock into her from behind.
That’s going to happen again tonight.
So help me…
What I love most is the low-cut jacket she’s wearing on top of all this. Any sub can look like she does beneath. Yet it’s a Domme like her who is going to sport the tight, crisp fabric currently covering her. I know I said her shoulder was bare. That’s because during our time tonight I’ve already managed to pull down a part of the sleeve and kiss her perfumed skin.
She’s trembling. Not in pleasure.
“Are you nervous, my darling?”
Kathryn nods.
“It’s all right. I understand.”
The harsh judgment of her blue eyes suddenly pierces into my soul. “Do you?” She takes a deep breath and looks away again. “I mean… I’m sorry. I know I’m asking for this. It’s not fair to you.”
“Unfair? Hardly. You can’t help how you feel.” I get up, giving her some space to breathe as I traverse my condo in search of her present. “But I do understand that our blurred lines aren’t helping you any. Just the other night you kept fearing I was going to try Topping you. That’s why I propose something.”
I bring the thin box over and sit next to her on the couch again. Her hand in mind, I give her the trinket I picked out for her.
She studies the box. She knows where it came from.
“Jewelry.” Her quaint voice almost amuses me. “How original.”
“Open it, Katie.”
I feel like she’s humoring me at this point. Nonetheless, when she pops the lid off and sees exactly what I’ve chosen, her throat tightens and her breasts nearly heave out of her corset. “A collar…”
The fear is palpable. I put a gentle hand on the small of her back in the hopes of reassuring her. “I didn’t buy it lightly, Katie. I bought it because we need it.”
It drops into the box. “Do we?”
Tears threaten the corners of her eyes. I kiss her shoulder again, holding her tight in my embrace. “Take a deep breath, love. I wanted to get you a collar not to ‘collar’ you, like you’re thinking, but to help you transition to being a sub. We need a signal. A physical one.”
She looks at me, hopeful, but still doubtful.
I hate seeing her like this. I want my vivacious Katie, the one who is self-assured and not afraid to speak her mind, even if she’s subbing. That’s the point I want to reach with her. I want her to obey during a scene, but I want her to want to obey. There is no joy in it otherwise. She needs to get off on obeying me as much as I get off on telling her what to do.
“You will wear this only when we’re training. That way, when we’re on a normal date, you don’t have to worry I’m going to pull something without your permission… because you’re not wearing the collar. I won’t Dom you unless this collar is around your neck. You get it?”
She fingers the chain between two buffed nails. “Yes. Thank you.”
I’m not expecting that. “For what?”
“For thinking this through. I know you’re not a malicious person, Ian. I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought that about you, but it’s good to know that you understand me to an extent. It makes me… feel better.”
Her tight
muscles relax beneath my hand. I rub them, hoping she’ll relax even more. “I’m not going to put this on you yet. We need to discuss a few other things first.” I hold up a glass. “More wine?”
She accepts.
I hold her close to me as I bring up some sensitive, not-so-fun subjects. I want her to feel my warmth, any gentleness I’m able to exude while my thoughts are plagued with how she’s dressed and what I’m going to do to her tonight – and how much hope I have that she’ll love it.
What I hold in my hand now is a contract. We discussed it on the phone a couple of times, but until now I don’t think she ever thought I would present her with an actual Dom/sub contract. The one night I spent writing this up was more somber than I anticipated. I briefly longed for the times when I could pick up a submissive woman who knew what she wanted and loved serving.
We’ll find a way to make this work for now.
There’s not much unique about this contract. It’s simple. When the collar is on, she is subservient to me. She has to do what I tell her, otherwise she will be punished. This is a part of her training. This is meant to help her embrace her submissive state of mind. The only way that can happen is with hard rules.
In return, she’s given me her hard limits over the past few days. No anal. No gagging so she feels powerless to say her safe word. No suffocating. No filming and no recording of any kind. What happens in the room stays in the room – something she should have thought of before telling my mother we’re even seeing each other. Surprised the woman hasn’t shown up here yet, trying to catch us in sordid acts.
The last thing I show her is brand new. Something I only thought of last night.
“I’m giving you two safe words. Pink is still one of them, but that will only tell me that you’re hesitant or getting nervous. I’ll slow down or change course, but I’m not going to stop.”
Her eyes widen.
“If you do want me to completely stop and pause the scene, say Red. Do you understand both words?”
