Civil Savage

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Civil Savage Page 6

by Katherine Anderson


  “Yes.”

  “Good girl. My first question for you… What is your name?” He’s starting off easy, and I know it.

  “Olivia. My name is Olivia Miller,” I breathe, waiting for him to turn up the speed.

  “What’s your middle name, Olivia Miller?”

  “Jane.”

  “Good girl. See? This isn’t so bad,” he coos, stroking my thigh with the pad of his thumb. The vibrations remain steady, but they’re beginning to work their magic. I feel a familiar pull in my belly and stretch out my legs as the panties settle on my clit.

  “Do you want more, Olivia Jane?”

  “No.”

  “Your body tells me differently.” Tyler presses a button and the vibrations speed up. I groan and arch my back, looking up at Tyler through hazy eyes. He presses another button and the vibrations stop all together. That bastard.

  “Why’d you stop?” I choke out. My pussy is not happy that the vibrations have ceased; my clit throbs and I’m sure you could read my pulse by looking at it.

  “We’ve got to pace ourselves, Olivia. I’ve still got questions that need answers. Are you ready for your next question?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  “Don’t. Call me. Sir.” He turns the panties back on, at full speed, and my eyes roll back in my head. I bite my lip to keep from crying out, to keep from calling him every dirty name in the book.

  “There’s my girl. What’s your favorite position, Olivia Jane?”

  I grit my teeth and stare at him, watching as he rubs his thumb over the button. I drag my eyes down his body and see he’s hard; the bulge in his pants is big enough to rest a teacup on.

  “Don’t make me ask again, Olivia…” he taunts, his thumb hovering over the button.

  “I like… Unh… I like doggy-style,” I squeak out, shutting my eyes and waiting for him to press the button. Instead, he turns the vibrations down. I catch my breath as the speed decreases, my fingers unclenching from the sheets beneath me. I look over and see Tyler rubbing himself through the fabric of his jeans. Seems like I’m not the only frustrated one. I reach out a hand to stroke him and he hits the button again, shocking me.

  “Not yet. Be patient.” He leans over and kisses my forehead, his thumb rubbing over the button as he taunts me. “I have one more question for you, and if I like the answer, I’ll let you come.”

  “What is it?” I ask, my breath ragged. My core contracts and my clit throbs; if I don’t come soon, I’m going to explode.

  “Did you touch yourself while I was gone?”

  I hesitate, my mouth going dry. He takes advantage of the moment and runs his finger along my slit, tapping on the vibrating bullet.

  “Well? Were you a good girl or not, Olivia Jane?”

  I look down at the remote in his hand, his thumb hovering over the button expectantly. I swallow the lump in my throat and look up at Tyler, trying to find the words.

  “I did touch myself while you were gone.”

  He nods and drops the remote. Uh oh.

  “And how long did you wait before you touched yourself?”

  “Until this morning,” I say earnestly, batting my eyelashes and hoping for the best.

  “Uh huh. Take your panties off, roll over.” He slides off the edge of the bed.

  “What?”

  “You heard me, Olivia. Take your panties off and roll over. Put that perky little ass right up in the air.” He means business, I can tell by the set of his jaw and the look in his eyes. I wiggle out of the panties and drop them on the floor, rolling over onto my stomach. I bring my knees under me and point my ass up, turning my head to look for Tyler.

  He comes up beside me and pushes my dress up my hips, pooling it around my waist. He rubs his palm across the flat of my ass, digging his fingers into the milky flesh. He pulls his hand back and spanks me once, making me jump. My flesh sings and grows hot where his strike lands; I moan, and he pulls his hand back.

  Tyler steps away from me, out of my field of view. I hold my breath, waiting for his next move. I exhale as I feel him climb on the bed behind me. He stops moving, and then I hear the unmistakable sound of his belt sliding through the loop of his jeans. Tyler pulls it free and slaps it against his palm, the sound lighting up the room like a crack of lightning.

  “Tyler, what are you doing?”

  “Shh, be a good girl and take your punishment.” He rubs his palm over my ass again and rears back. I move just before his palm connects with my cheek, squeaking. I sit up on my knees, tucking my ass underneath me.

  “Punishment?” My voice wavers. Nobody said anything about punishment. I turn to face Tyler and he tries to push me back around. “No, don’t touch me. Don’t fucking touch me. You didn’t say anything about punishment.”

  “And what did you expect for breaking the rules, Olivia Jane? Did you think I’d just let you come and be on your merry way? No. Pull up your skirt, bend over and take your spanking like a good girl.”

  I see red as I push him backward and slide off the bed. “The fuck I will. You can take your belt and your punishment and your vibrating fucking panties and shove them up your ass. I’m out of here!” I storm downstairs and collect my purse and phone, stomping out of Tyler’s house.

  I make it down the street and realize I don’t have a way to get home. I stop outside of a well-lit house and punch their address into the Uber app. The app says a car will be there in ten minutes. I wrap my arms around me and sit on the sidewalk, waiting for the car. I shake with anger as the moments turn into minutes.

  Eventually, a blue SUV shows up with a license plate matching the one in my app. I get in and the driver takes one look at me, his eyes wide with concern.

  “You all right, miss?”

  “I’m fine. I don’t want to talk about it.”

  “Very well. I’ll have you home in fifteen, just hang tight.”

  I sit back in the seat and close my eyes as he pulls off from the curb.

  Chapter 12

  Over the next few days, I rack up twenty texts saying only “Call me” and two missed phone calls, no messages left, from Tyler. I’m not in the mood to deal with him, so each morning I push my phone to silent and get ready for work.

  Today, I shower and get dressed, letting my hair air dry. I don’t care if it’s a frizzy mess when it dries; I don’t care about anything. I make my way downstairs at a quarter to eight and eat a hurried breakfast. I halfheartedly chew on a bagel and slam back some cold coffee, my thoughts drifting back to that last night.

  Everything had gone fine right up to the point where Tyler pulled his belt out. Why had that spooked me? It’s not like I’m a stranger to a little pain with my pleasure; I’ve been spanked before. I’ve had my ass paddled red, with handprints ringing across each cheek, but a belt? Apparently, that’s where I draw the line.

  I finish my bagel and head out the door, absently dropping my phone in my bag. I make the short walk to the bus stop and wait for the number five. I look up at the grey skies and think I should have brought an umbrella. The skies are dark and tumultuous; they look like they could open up and pour rain at any moment. It feels like the weather matches my mood.

  The number five arrives and I hop on, taking my usual seat at the back of the bus. Any other morning, I’d pull out my phone, snap a picture of my commute and send it to Tyler. This morning, I resist the urge. I watch out the window as the bus makes its way toward my office.

  After a short ride, the bus pulls up at my stop and I hop off. I make my way into the massive stone building, where Samantha is waiting by the door. She grabs my arm and pulls me into a corner.

  “Hey Sam, what’s up? Can I have my arm back, please?”

  “Olivia Jane Miller, have you lost your mind?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “You didn’t answer your phone this morning when I called! I was ready to call out search and rescue!” Samantha squeals, pinching my arm. She reaches in my bag and pulls out my phone.

  “See? Three
missed calls… From Tyler? Wait, what happened with the dreamboat?”

  I take my phone back from her and drop it in my bag. “I don’t want to talk about it,” I grumble. I pull my arm back and make my way through the lobby and into the elevator with Samantha on my tail.

  “Oh no, did he do some weird sex thing? Did he ask you to grapefruit him?”

  “What? No. Wait, what? No.” I step into the elevator and press the number for our floor.

  “Did he ask you to call him ‘Daddy’?” she whispers, and her eyes go wide.

  I roll my eyes and turn to face her. “Do you really want to know, Sam? Do you really, really want to know every delicate detail of my sex life?”

  “Well, duh. What happened?”

  “He tried to spank me with a belt.”

  Her face goes slack for a moment then she quirks an eyebrow. “A belt? Oh, so he’s kinky. Did you not like it?”

  I don’t have time to answer. The elevator car reaches our floor and the doors open, revealing an agitated Mr. Culpepper.

  “Miss Miller, Miss Elliot… Don’t you have somewhere better to be? Your desks, perhaps? Miss Miller, if I could see you in my office at ten, we have something to discuss.”

  “Yes, Mr. Culpepper.”

  We step out and Mr. Culpepper steps in behind us, the doors closing slowly. Samantha turns to me and giggles. “Go on, I’ll message you later.”

  At 9:50 I head toward Mr. Culpepper’s office. He values punctuality above anything else, so my being early should be a benefit to me, no matter what he wants to talk about. I knock on the door and wait for him to call me in.

  “Come on in, Ms. Miller, the door is open,” comes his voice from the other side. I push the heavy door open and Mr. Culpepper rises to his feet, coming around his desk to welcome me. I’ve been in this office hundreds, no, thousands of times, and he’s never once gotten up to greet me. Okay, this is officially weird.

  “Ms. Miller, so glad you could join me. Please have a seat, can I get you a coffee or something to drink?” He takes his seat, gesturing to the chair across from his desk. I sit, smoothing out my skirt, and crossing my ankles.

  “Am I in trouble, Mr. Culpepper?” I ask, sounding small.

  “What? No, not at all. I wanted to talk with you more about the position I offered you. It appears we’ll be needing a department manager sooner rather than later. Your department head, Mrs. Hunt, is taking a leave of absence effective immediately. I can’t go into details, but she’ll be out for an extended period of time, and your department can’t be wandering around headless, as it were.” He stops talking long enough to take a sip from his coffee, staring at me over the edge of the mug. “If you’d like the job, the position is yours. I’ll give you a moment or two to think it over.” He stands up from his desk and leaves me by myself in the large office.

  Do I want to take the position? It would mean longer hours, but better pay. I’d have more responsibility, but more people to delegate it to. I’d have my own office, not just a cubicle in a crowded room full of other paper jockeys…

  Mr. Culpepper returns a few minutes later with a fresh cup of coffee and sits at his desk. He sets the mug down and folds his hands together, staring at me over the steeple of his fingers.

  “Have I allowed you enough time to make up your mind, Ms. Miller? Have you given my offer some thought?”

  I nod. “You have. I’ll take it, Mr. Culpepper, I’ll accept the position.”

  “Excellent news!” He claps his hands together and rises from the desk. I stand up and offer him my hand, sealing the deal. “I expect to have your new office ready by Monday, Ms. Miller. Or, should I call you Department Head Miller?”

  “Ms. Miller is fine, Mr. Culpepper. Monday sounds delightful. Should I clean out my desk now?”

  “Hm? Yes, clean out your desk of the things you won’t need for the rest of the day. I’ll send up some boxes for you and then have maintenance carry them over to the new office.”

  He releases my hand and I take my leave. I head back to my desk. A message comes in on my screen, and I turn to answer it. It’s Samantha, of course.

  Did Culpepper FIRE you? Did you get canned?

  I type out a hasty reply. No, he’s offered me a new position. You may call me Department Head Olivia from now on.

  The screen lights up as a flood of messages come in.

  Department HEAD? He gave you Ceilia’s job? Holy shit, when do you start?

  Monday. He’s moving me into her office Monday. I need to finish packing, Sam. Leave me be.

  She sends one last message, making me sigh. When are you gonna tell me about Dreamboat McGee?

  Later, Sam. And don’t call him that. He’s far from a dreamboat.

  Maintenance drops off a couple boxes and I pack up what I can and dive into work, preparing endless reports, and filing them away. By lunch, my eyes are crossing from staring at the screen so long. Samantha comes over to my desk with a Diet Coke and a packet of chips, perching on the edge.

  “Come on, Olivia, it’s lunchtime. You need to eat.”

  I pop the tab on the soda and take a swig. “I’m not hungry. I’ve got too much work to do before I take over on Monday.”

  Samantha huffs, pulls up a chair, and straddles it as she sits next to me. She pushes the button on my screen, shutting it down.

  “Tell me what happened with Dreamboat McGee. Something obviously happened; you haven’t pulled out your phone and smiled at it once. You’re not constantly texting, him or me. Something happened. Do I have to force it out of you?” Samantha looks me dead in the eyes, and I can tell she means business. She has her ways of getting information out of people.

  I sigh in exasperation and stand up, stretching. ”Come on, Sam, let’s go for a walk.” I take the Diet Coke and chips and head toward the elevator. Samantha follows close behind, stepping into the elevator before the doors shut.

  “Okay, Olivia, spill it. What’d he do?” She hits the button for the ground floor, giving me a minute to get it out.

  “He bought vibrating panties, brought me to the edge of orgasm not once but twice, and then decided to bring out a belt to spank me with.”

  “That sounds hot. What’s the problem?’

  “Did you not hear me? He brought out a belt to spank me with.”

  “That’s what sounds hot. Don’t tell me you’re a prude, Olivia Jane,” she taunts me. The elevator dings as we reach the ground floor. I step out, Samantha hot on my heels. I speed walk to the garden outside before I turn and face her.

  “I’m not a prude, Samantha Kaye. I just… I don’t know, I wasn’t expecting it? I wasn’t expecting him to whip out the belt right away. I’m a grown woman, not a naughty child.”

  Samantha looks me square in the eye. “Were you acting like a naughty girl?”

  I look down at my feet and sigh. “I may have broken his rules.”

  “What rules?”

  “He told me not to touch myself until I saw him again.”

  “Then you had it coming, Olivia,” she says simply. “He’s clearly a Dom, and you’re obviously a sub or you wouldn’t have taken Ceilia’s job. You’re always trying to please your Dom, whether it’s here at work or in bed. You broke your Dom’s rules, and when you break the rules, there are consequences.”

  I look at her like she’s grown a second head. “I’m a… What? I am not some simpering submissive waif.”

  “No, you’re not, Olivia, you’re a bad bitch. But you’re a submissive bad bitch and you need to come to terms with that. Don’t let something as trivial as broken rules and a belt stand in the way of what could be a great relationship. And if it’s not relationship-worthy, don’t let it stand in the way of great sex.”

  Samantha pulls out her phone and checks the time. “Come on, Ms. Department Head. We’ve got to get back before Culpepper loses his mind.” She turns and heads inside, waiting for me at the door.

  “I’ll be there in a moment.”

  I dig the phone out of my p
ocket and punch in Tyler’s number.

  Chapter 13

  The phone goes straight to voicemail. I feel my face fall, and I bite my lip to keep it together. What did I expect? I won’t answer his calls, why would he answer mine? I wipe away a frustrated tear and hang up, putting my phone in my pocket.

  As I turn to head back inside, a fat raindrop falls out of the sky and lands on my shirt, then another and another. By the time I make it into the lobby, the sky has opened up and a storm pours down. The security guy stares at me as I walk past, my white shirt near translucent from rain. I can feel his eyes on my chest, my nipples poking through the thin fabric. I cross my arms over me as I hop in the elevator, pushing the button for my floor.

  The elevator dings and as soon as the door opens, I run for Samantha’s desk, hoping no one can see my see-through shirt. I make it to her desk and pull her jacket off the back of her chair, wrapping it around me.

  “Excuse me? Oh, oh… Okay, you need it more than I do,” she says, spinning around to see. “Jesus, Olivia, did you decide to go dancing in the rain or what?”

  “No, it came down faster than I expected. Let me borrow this till the end of the day?” I chatter, shivering as a droplet of water rolls down my spine.

  “Sure. Did you get a hold of him?”

  “Who?” I feign dumb, pretending I don’t know what she’s talking about. I zip the jacket up to my chin and stick my hands in the pockets, trying to warm up.

  “You know who. Dreamboat McGee.” She raises an eyebrow at me, waiting for my response.

  “Stop calling him that. And no, I didn’t. It went straight to voicemail. Look, I’ve got to get back to my desk. Thanks for letting me borrow this, I’ll bring it back before I leave.” She blows me a kiss as I make the trek back to my desk.

  I take a seat behind my screen and it lights up with messages.

  Are you going to call him again? Samantha can be like a dog with a bone sometimes. She’s not going to let this go until she gets the answers she wants.

 

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