by Jamie Knight
She was tall and curvy, with clear green eyes, perfect skin, as severe with herself as she was with other people. If a blemish appeared on her cheek, she'd probably just stare it into submission in the mirror.
I could tell that she was naturally shy but that she did something to improve her confidence. Maybe acting lessons, voice coaching, positive self-affirmations, to make her appear more fierce that she truly felt inside.
Some people might be downright intimidated by her.
But I wasn't.
During the welcome meeting yesterday, I had noticed something. She was acting strangely. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, even through the many layers of expensive makeup. Her eyes kept darting to me and then quickly back to her papers again, especially when I looked up.
I was making her nervous. I was turning her on. That was the only thing that could make a woman blush like that.
Jocelyn tried to cultivate a severe look: the heavy makeup, smoothly styled fire-red hair pulled back into a tight bun, and a permanent frown. But it wasn't innate. She'd become this way, out of necessity, I suspected.
She needed to be taken seriously. I took her very seriously indeed. But her flustered reaction to me and to my secret life was amusing, nonetheless.
"Mr. William, if you’ll be so kind as to tell me what this mentorship program is all about now..." She swallowed audibly, then glanced at me. "...I’d be delighted to find out what it is that we’ll be working on together.”
Oh, I bet you will be, I thought, yet I was impressed at her composure.
She might be flustered, but she wasn't allowing herself to be distracted. I found myself wondering what would distract her.
"I can see why you’re anxious to know," I said, shucking off my jacket and draping it over the back of my chair, without turning to look.
I kept my eyes fixed on Jocelyn, willing her to back down.
To surrender.
She let out small, humorless laugh.
"I can tell you like to keep people waiting, but I’m sure you have things you need me to work on around here, that this is holding me up from."
She was acting feisty, putting on a tough act, but I knew that it was because she wanted me to take her over my legs and spank her.
I also knew she was getting impatient and wanting me to hurry up. Her pussy was probably dripping for me.
“I’m the one who makes the rules and sets the timetables around here,” I told her.
Very deliberately, I unbuttoned my sleeves and rolled them up to my elbows. It was warm in the room, so she might not know that I was simply putting on a show. But I figured that she did. There wasn’t a woman in existence who didn't quiver a little at the sight of an attractive man with rolled-up sleeves.
"My apologies," she almost purred, without looking away. "It won't happen again."
“What have you found out about me?” I asked her, knowing that there had to be something and wondering if she would tell me.
I only wanted to know so that I could find out what she was so intrigued about, that she would get the valentine from me after hearing something about me and still come here to my office to have me do whatever it was she had heard.
I shut and locked the door and began walking back to the table.
"It would be a little out of the ordinary to discuss such things with my… potential boss… now, wouldn’t it?" she asked me, as I sat back down.
She sat opposite me, her fingers resting ever-so-slightly on the polished wood.
She looked at me, coolly.
"It might be unusual but it’s not unethical," I told her. "What I do in my off hours, shall we say, are separate from my work life. Any kind of mentorship you have with me in here is not considered when it comes to your work for me out there.”
A cold smile spread across her face.
"I see. I was wondering about some of the activities you've been getting up to on your time off, Master William."
Jocelyn was expecting a reaction. I know she was talking about the Dark Club. But I wasn’t going to give her the satisfaction of letting her know this.
When I simply folded my hands atop the table and looked at her, expectantly, she deflated a little. She could almost hide it, but not quite.
"You really should be more careful," she said, giving me that challenge she must know I loved. "Anyone looking into your life might find out you have certain… proclivities."
She was right about that.
I had proclivities, alright.
If that was what she wanted to call them.
I uncapped a pen, and busied myself with the paperwork that was still sitting in front of me. "I'll be sure to take that under advisement."
She let out a small, incredulous noise.
"Are you really acting as if you’re blowing me off, Mr. Davies? You don’t think I know about your little secrets? I’ve heard about how you stand on a stage in leather pants, holding a whip, with a half-naked girl ready to be spanked."
Keeping my eyes fixed on the paper, I continued to write. I didn’t let her know how glad I was that she had revealed what she knew about me. If she knew that and had still come to my office, then she must be down to play.
"Why are you here if you have a problem with such things, Ms. Harkins?"
There was a moment of silence. Finally, she sighed.
“I guess I should be the one asking you why you gave me a valentine asking me to come here.”
I stopped, smiled, and lifted my eyes to her pretty face.
“Maybe because I wanted you to come let me mentor you,” I told her. “In more ways than one.”
Her lips parted slightly, and she laughed, but with slightly less of the cold that she had been using at first.
"You just told me to go away," she said, softly. "William, if you want to try and throw me off with transparent flirtation, you'll need to be a little less obvious than that. I know you alpha males think you can do what you want, but maybe try to be more subtle about it."
"Human emotion is complicated," I deadpanned, setting my pen back on its holder. "Haven't you ever had conflicting feelings about someone?"
She looked at me for a long moment.
"Yes," she said, at last, licking her lips reflexively.
"Well, there you have it," I said. "I imagine you've had to deal with plenty of unwanted attention from the opposite gender."
I was trying to confirm my suspicions that she was a virgin. She didn’t seem to want to give up that information, though.
"I have," she said, looking at me cautiously. "But we were talking about you."
"You were talking about me," I corrected her. "I don't find that very interesting. I already know everything there is to know, you see. I'd much rather talk about you."
She let out another laugh, this one with even more genuine music to it.
"I think you already know about me," she told me. “After all, weren’t you on a committee to select me as a candidate for an internship?”
She was right about that. In a different way than she knew. There were a lot of people selected to be interns and I wasn’t a large part of the committee that decided that. But after looking her up last night, I did know a lot about her.
But I still wanted to know more.
Knowledge was power, and I wanted enough of it to make me strong enough to consume her completely. I wanted to claim her as my own and make it so that she would never even look at another guy again.
I kept looking at her, silent, until her face reddened slightly, until she looked away.
"I don’t know enough about you," I said, "so I can only continue on with this mentorship if you'll agree to answer twenty questions."
Her forehead crinkled slightly.
"Twenty... questions?" she echoed, and I could tell that her mind racing to understand what game I was playing. "I don't understand. There are certain things I can't discuss, with my boss, or, almost-boss…"
"With this mentorship in place, you can discuss anything yo
u want with me," I cut in. "Including answering my personal questions."
She took a deep breath, and I watched her full breasts rise and fall under the slim cut of her suit jacket. I couldn’t wait to see them naked, with nothing standing in between her nipples and my eyes.
"Mr. Davies, I don't want to play games."
"That's too bad," I said, picking up some papers that were on the table in front of me and moving them towards the folder.
"Wait." She swallowed audibly. "What if I refuse to answer one of the questions?"
"Then I get another try," I said. "Unlimited questions until you've answered twenty of them. Honestly."
She laughed.
"How will you know?"
I just raised my eyebrows slightly.
"I'll know."
Jocelyn rolled her eyes.
"I can't believe I'm doing this."
"I can't believe I am, either," I told her, honestly.
I was never this into a woman, to take such risks for her. I shouldn’t be doing this with her, but I couldn’t help it.
She smiled coolly. "I’ll try to answer your questions.”
Nodding, I glanced down at my desk, and then back up at her face.
"Has a boss ever been attracted to you before?"
She let out a long, measured breath.
"How would I know?"
I tapped my index fingers together, lightly.
"That's not an answer, Jocelyn. Should I move on to the next question? Just so you know - they get progressively more personal."
Jocelyn rolled her eyes.
"Yes," she said. "Next question."
"Were you attracted to him?"
Her smile came slowly, the most genuine expression I'd ever seen from her.
"I didn't say it was a him."
Laying my forearms down on the desk, I leaned forward slightly.
"That's not an answer."
With a slight laugh, she tilted back in her seat.
"All right, fine. Yes. I had a boss back at a summer job in college, and I was attracted to him at first."
"At first?" I shifted back in my chair, mirroring her movements. "What happened?"
"You're burning through questions very quickly, Mr. Davies."
"Let me worry about that." I tilted my head slightly. "Why only at first?"
She cleared her throat softly before answering me.
"He was too forward. We started communicating privately, which I knew was a mistake, and then on the fifth or sixth text message he was already asking me to..." Her mouth thinned slightly. "...sit on his face, smother him, walk all over him in stiletto heels - even if I wanted to, it's not like I ever would. Especially not with a text message trail that could ruin my reputation. He was stupid."
"Very stupid," I agreed. "Anyone can see you're not that kind of woman."
Her eyebrow twitched slightly.
"When the only tool you have is a hammer, Master William, every problem tends to look like a nail- doesn't it?"
"I didn't say you were a submissive," I said. "I can tell you might not even know what any of these terms mean. But you're not a dominant. You wouldn’t want to do what your perverted former boss wanted you to do."
I was instantly jealous, I had to admit. I knew it was a long time ago and that I hadn’t even known her yet, but I couldn’t help but wonder how dare her old boss could creep in on my territory. I wanted Jocelyn to be mine, and no one else’s.
"I guess not," she said. "Clearly you don't fit into the stereotype of the powerful businessman who needs to visit a dominatrix to relax."
"No," I agreed. "I'm not wired that way. Never was. But the people who are, well, I think they're lucky."
"What do you mean by that?" she asked.
Her voice was soft, curious, starting to lose its edge more and more.
"I'm asking the questions," I reminded her. "But if you were a dominant, if you'd seen some of the things I've seen- well, you wouldn't even have to ask."
"Yes," said Jocelyn, a little wryly. "There's a freedom in letting go. I read some about BDSM."
She was definitely into me. She had even looked up my lifestyle.
I knew this was going to work out quite well.
Chapter 6
William
“Yes. I think there is freedom in letting go,” I told Jocelyn. “Deep down, we're frightened of our free will. The responsibility is crushing. We want to feel like someone is controlling things. And sometimes, we just want to feel controlled."
"So BDSM is a stand-in for religion?" she laughed. "That's a new one."
I shrugged.
"For some people? Maybe. I still have seventeen questions left, Jocelyn."
Sighing, she crossed her legs, her skirt straining a little where it sat on her thigh. I wanted to rip it off and spread her legs and her pussy lips, and slide my cock in between it all. I couldn’t want to devour her.
"Fine. Go," she said.
"Have you ever participated in BDSM?"
"No," she said. Her eyes met mine, with a quiet challenge. She was determined not to be cowed. "But I’ve read about it. I didn’t think I would like it. At the time.”
She cleared her throat and I could tell she was embarrassed.
"What did you read about?" I asked her.
I watched her carefully, the way her body tensed at the invasion of my questions. I liked that I made her a bit uncomfortable. I liked that it was clear that she didn’t want to answer my question but that she knew that if she refused to answer, then I'd have won our little mind game. She didn't want that.
"It was about a man spanking a woman," she said, finally. "It was silly. Or at least, at time, it seemed silly. As if the author had read about it in some stupid men's magazine that says all women secretly just want to be knocked out and dragged by their hair back to the cave."
I nodded.
I could tell she wanted me to spank her.
It was obvious.
But I played along with her little game.
"Facile, isn't it? And stupid," I told her.
She laughed a little.
"Well, at least you don't buy into it."
"I think we prefer a narrative of prehistoric societies that makes us feel better about our modern-day brutality," I said. "Whether or not it's based on any pesky facts."
"But women do like to be dominated," she said, licking her lips artlessly. "You believe that. You must, based on what I’ve heard."
"Some women do. I also believe in gravity," I said, dryly. "And I'm fairly certain the sky is blue."
"You don't think it's just a manufactured desire?" She was keyed up now, sitting up straighter in her seat, some of that fire coming back into her eyes. "Something we're told we should want?"
"Of course it's manufactured," I said. "Just like the desire for a luxury car, or a nice apartment."
"But those are things that actually make your life more comfortable," Jocelyn insisted. "They actually make things better. You don't need them, but it's reasonable to want them."
Considering this, I steepled my fingers together, resting my elbows on the desk.
"Have you ever given up control, Jocelyn? Voluntarily?"
Every part of her body was taut, like a big cat crouching before it pounced.
"Of course," she said, but too fast. "Or I think, well. What is that supposed to mean?"
I shook my head.
"I don't believe you. You've never given it up. You’re a good lawyer; I can tell. You've never surrendered willingly. If someone asked for something, you'd negotiate. You'd find a way to justify it to yourself. You'd make a trade. But you've never known the peace of true surrender. Without doubt, without hesitations, with complete trust."
She just stared at me.
"Don't feel bad," I said. "Very few people have. But I've been privileged to know some of them. Many extraordinary women have crossed my path over the years, while I've done my service as a Master. Every single one of them found me to be worthy of the
ir trust. When you were researching me, looking up all the skeletons in my closet, did you find yourself wondering why? Why would any woman agree to take orders from me?"
She nodded, breathlessly. I could tell that she wanted to argue, to protest, to question, but couldn't quite find her voice. Her eyes were dark and transfixed, her hands gripping the cushion underneath her.
"Would you like to find out?"
Jocelyn's jaw trembled. But she didn't speak.
"Remember, just yes or no questions," I reassured her. "You don't have to do anything. Just answer me, yes or no. There are quite a few left."
She still didn't answer.
"When you came here to my office, was there any part of your mind that imagined me mastering you? Mentoring you in more ways than just professional ones? Teaching you what it's like to submit?"
I was met with silence.
"Did you wonder how it would feel if I spanked you? If it would feel silly?"
There was silence, still, except for the sound of the clock ticking in the corner.
"Did you ask yourself where you'd draw the line? What you'd do for me?"
Her lip trembled. In her eyes, I could see that her resolve was beginning to falter.
"Stop it!" she shouted, finally, jumping to her feet. "Stop it. This is for my job. I won't let you humiliate me like this."
"But you are," I said, calmly. "You knew exactly what would happen when I started this game. You know who I am. But you came here. And you stayed, while I asked you these questions. And that can only mean one thing, Jocelyn."
“That’s not true," she spat. "Maybe I should go tell Ashton and Kane about you. Or their wives. Maybe you deserve to be humiliated, the way you humiliate everyone else."
I could tell she wasn’t really going to do it. She wanted me to keep going.
“How do you think Ashton and Kane met their wives?” I asked her. “You seem to know about the rumor mill around here already. You must have already heard that they met here at work. That they had a, shall we say, elicit boss and employee relationship. It’s not exactly unheard of.”
She got up as if to leave, but I knew she wouldn’t really do it. She paused, her high heels stopping their clicking on the wooden floor. I could tell she knew about the relationships that had formed at this firm in the past. That was probably part of what she had come— she had known the repercussions couldn’t possibly be that bad, if such things had happened here in the past.