by Alyssa Clark
It was dominating, him tasting my mouth and claiming my tongue in just the same fashion as he had before when I was hung up. I didn’t fight it, I didn’t pull away. I just let him have my mouth and let it reignite the burn he had created before when he had been in me. When he finally pulled away, I was breathless, and I thought I saw my want mirrored in his expression.
“Call yourself fat in front of me again, I will beat your ass. I don’t want to hear it.” He patted my cheek. “All I want to hear from you is a ‘Yes Michael’ or a “No Michael’ and a “Michael’ when you cum.” He stood and sighed, giving me the once-over. “If I didn’t have work in the morning we would see about taking advantage of another room. I’d love to bend that ass over again. Oh well.” He turned away from me and went to the pile of his clothes that he had left on the bed. “There’s always tomorrow.” He began to dress with a nonchalance that I would never be able to manage with someone watching.
Once he had his tie straightened he gave me one final look. “Until tomorrow, Charlie.” I got another smirk for my troubles before he left me alone in the room.
I waited, still hung up like he hadn’t just let me down from the harness. It would take me a good ten minutes to find feeling back in my legs. Another ten to find my clothing so I could get dressed. I wouldn’t wear the little black dress again, I decided. It left me feeling awkward as I made my way out of the club. Everyone there would have an idea about what he did to me.
They knew I had sex in there and if they were close enough to the door that would have probably heard me. I was sure of it.
So, I kept my head down, and I made my way out of there, struggling to look as normal as I could. The drive home was easier than the ride there, I think it was because of the anticipation. Now I had something else driving me. I made sure as soon as I found a spot that I sent him a text letting him know I was home. I didn’t wait for a reply.
I got in the door and showered, trying to process everything much like I did the first time. It was a struggle now, too. I couldn’t stay in the shower for long; it was late when I rolled in, and I had to get up early to get to work. So, I went through my bedtime routine robotically.
It wasn’t until I sat down on my bed and spotted my laptop at the end of it that I was able to snap back to reality. Compelled, I grabbed it and powered it on. I had work to do. The time was forgotten, and I stayed bent over my laptop until I could barely keep my eyes open. But I managed to finish it and get it sent off in an email to Simon. I made sure I sent copies to Ms. Winters and Liz.
Then I collapsed back into my bed, passing out delightfully empty.
10
When I woke up it was like I had gone to bed with cotton wadded up in my mouth. That was probably the only thing that got me sitting up, the need for a drink. I wandered into my tiny kitchenette and found a bottle of water in the fridge. I ended up chugging half of it before the dry mouth finally eased. My apartment didn’t have any windows, so I didn’t question the time when I found the bathroom and tended to the less urgent call of nature.
It was when I sat on the toilet that I heard the buzzing. It went in bursts of threes before it stopped again. Was that my phone? This late? Who would call me? I don’t have friends.
Grumbling as the buzzing started again, I wiped then flushed. There was nothing else to do than to see to who was calling me at this hour. My screen lit up, and there was no mistaking Liz’s name. I answered with a sigh, “What?”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” She snapped back at me, “I’ve been looking for you for hours, and you’re not here!”
“What?” I asked again, dumbly, then I pulled the phone away from my ear to look at the time. It was nine forty-two. In the morning. I’d slept through my alarm if I had even set my alarm. I couldn’t remember if I had or not.
“It’s almost ten!” Liz’s shout rung out from the phone, stating the obvious.
“Fuck,” I swore in a way that I normally only saved for moments like this.
“You’re not even here, yet?! I thought Simon had you locked in his office! Jesus Christ, Charlie!” She sounded frantic. “Get here before he notices you’re not here. I’ll do everything I can to stall him. If anyone asks you had bad Mexican last night.” She didn’t give me a chance to reply, she hung up.
I was grateful because it gave me enough time to make a mad dash around my tiny apartment to get dressed. I took the time to brush my hair and teeth, makeup was just going to have to be a casualty today. I didn’t wear much anyway, but I’d just have to have a blush that was a whole lot easier to spot than usual.
Normally, I’d take the bus to work and try to save myself a few bucks on gas. Today wasn’t going to be one of those days. I spent the next half hour weaving through traffic and trying to keep an eye out for flashing blue lights. It’d be my luck if I were to get pulled over.
Someone upstairs decided to smile upon me because I managed to get there without the bonus of a speeding ticket and I found a parking spot close to the door. I didn’t bother dwelling on it. Instead, I bolted for the door and hit the elevator like a bat out of hell. Stairs would have been quicker, but I’m a fat girl. I can only run so far before I get winded and the stairs were a special kind of hell I wasn’t going to visit today.
I was out on the main floor of the Gossip Catalog’s writing team. I saw Liz’s cube, but I didn’t spot her dark head of hair there. I swallowed hard and made my way to the editing section, I tried to be cool about it. I wasn’t late, ever. I worked with the pride of knowing I was usually anywhere from thirty to fifteen minutes early every day.
Not today.
Granted, I stayed up way too late, and I had definitely had an exhausting night. I never expected this to be the outcome. I never expected to drop the ball so hard.
I made it to my cube without a hitch, and I half expected Liz to be here. I figured after I sent that email last night I’d get some kind of feedback from her. But there was nothing but a coffee cup. I picked it up, it was lukewarm. She probably brought it by to either offer her opinion or fish for information about my night at the club.
I gave the room a curious look, trying to spot her over the bowed heads of my other coworkers. Still nada. Where is she? Did she notice I was MIA and call then just disappear?
Confused, I sat down at my desk and powered my computer on. One of the lights on my phone flashed cheerily at me. I picked it up and queued into my voicemail expecting it to be from Liz. “Ms. Atkins,” Simon’s voice filtered in over the recording, “I’d like for you to join me in my office as soon as you get in. Surprised you’re not at your desk, but I hope to see you immediately.” After a click that announced him hanging up the phone, a robotic voice dictated the date and time.
Eight-thirty. Two hours ago.
I’m dead. I’m just going to die right here and right now.
I bowed over my keyboard to rest my head against the riser that held my monitor at an angle. There was no way I was getting out of editing now, I’d be lucky if I still had a job. How could I screw up this bad?
The crisis wasn’t done, yet. Oh no, it had to come over and knock on the top of my cube’s doorway. I jerked upward into a sitting position, upsetting the coffee that Liz had left and damn near toppling over my monitor. I saved the monitor, but I didn’t save myself from being splashed with coffee.
Mocha, it was a chocolate mocha actually. I know that now from the stains on my sweater. At least it wasn’t fresh and hot.
I made a mad dash to make sure my keyboard didn’t get sacrificed with my overreaction, then turned to see my boss, Simon, watching with an incredulous look on his face.
“Did you need something?” I choked, holding my keyboard in the air.
He blinked slowly at me, a coffee mug in his own hand. “I didn’t mean to startle you,” he said after a length. He eyed me then shook his head as he decided to forge ahead despite my position. “I left you a message, I was hoping to see you in my office hours ago. Where have y
ou been?”
“I was late.” I didn’t see a reason to lie about it. I knew Liz tried to cover for me, probably planted the mocha to make it appear I had been at my desk but was just having issues with disagreeable Mexican food from the night before. “I just got in,” I admitted as I lowered my keyboard. “I’m sorry--”
He snorted, looking down at my sweater than my desk. “Clean up the mess then we can have a talk.” He didn’t seem like he was in the mood to humor my meltdown. He just turned and headed back to his office like he hadn’t seen me have a moment.
I took my time cleaning up my desk, and I only bothered to blot at the stain that was on the sleeve of my sweater. It wasn’t as if it was a favorite. I wouldn’t miss it, and honestly, I’d burn it if it would keep me from having another day like this. A bit overboard, but it’s okay to take extreme measures to avoid a bad day.
After killing thirty minutes with clean up, I finally went to face the music. I knocked politely at Simon’s door before opening it. I came in and sat in one of the little uncomfortable chairs he kept in his office. Then I waited for him to finish up with whatever he was typing at and tell me off for being late.
“I’m going to take the time to edit this myself,” he said without looking at me. “It’s good, but I don’t think it's a good idea that you do the editing yourself. It's always a good idea to have a second set of eyes looking at your work. The title you gave it is also genius. I like the idea of ‘Introvert joins a sex club.’” I nodded, listening intently. There was no berating, no reprimand for my tardiness. He actually sounded excited. “We could keep this up as a series, giving out the basics for BDSM. Like how you mentioned the safeword thing.” He looked up at me, and I could see that he was into it. The expression on his face was one I couldn’t read though, I’d never seen it before on him. “Then we can explore other options with it. Not just BDSM, but take other things. I think this will be a great way to draw attention and build a following. I think we can probably stretch it out as far as six to eight articles. I called Ms. Winters this morning, and she adored it.”
Was he gushing? I stared at him as he just continued on with it.
“And this Mr. White, I’m guessing that’s a pseudonym? It's a little too close to the Fifty Shades series. I’ll have to change it.” He watched me intently, making me feel uncomfortable.
“Yes and that’s fine. That’s just what came to me while I was writing it.” I tried not to fidget. “I, also, want to make sure we stick with the pen name for me."
“Really?” He almost looked disappointed.
I nodded. “I’m not good with a lot of attention.”
That seemed to satisfy him because he went back to his monitor and right back to typing. “I’m willing to give you royalties for it like I do the other writers. However, I think it would probably be in your best interest to stay in editing until you get a proper following.”
I wasn’t going to disagree. I knew what kind of views Liz got, and she was popular. I knew how the internet worked, to make money you had to get views. It was highly unlikely I’d go viral after one article. Personally, I doubted it would only take six to get me there. All that said, I felt his excitement, and I leaned forward a little. “I can work on the next article when I get done with my assignments,” I ventured carefully.
“Let’s start with one article at a time,” he glanced at me. “Let’s make it weekly that way you don’t get sore.” There was something about the look he gave me that surprised me. He even went as far as to wink at me.
I didn’t know how to take that. Simon was always professional with me. “O-okay.” I hesitated. “Was there anything else?” I wanted to retreat back to the safety of my desk.
He nodded then held up a hand. “I’m willing to forgive this one time being late. Next time.” I got another look that went from my face to my chest and downward. D-did he--Was he checking me out? “Next time I won’t be so forgiving.”
I nodded and stood. I managed to calmly exit his office without knocking into anything. I found my way to my desk, and I sat down on my chair and tried to digest what had just happened. Was he hitting on me? Was that flirting? I didn’t even know and I sure as hell didn’t know how to feel about it.
My office phone rang, pulling me out of my confused stupor. I saw the flashing light, I had messages too. There’d be only one other person that would call me. I picked up the phone, hoping it wasn’t Simon. I don’t know if I could handle more of that.
“Jesus Christ! Charlie!” Liz paused to inhale. “I’ve been texting you since I called you. Please. Throw me a bone, babe.”
“Sorry.” I started the search for my cell phone. I didn’t have it in my pockets, and when I went for its usual perch on my desk, I saw it missing. I winced and went bowed my head back over my desk. “I must’ve left it at home or in the car. I was in such a hurry that there’s no telling where it is.”
“Oh okay.” She sounded relieved then. “For a second there I thought I was getting the cold shoulder again. I was about to say you can’t hang me out to dry after sending me that piece you sent me last night.”
“Nope,” I didn’t bother to pick my head up as I spoke, “just more added to my day.”
“Simon didn’t get on your case, did he? He actually looked like he was in a good mood when I tried to stall him earlier. Did you stick with the bad Mexican food plan?”
“No,” I snorted like that was something I could have managed. “I’m a horrible liar, and I couldn’t do that to Mexican, we’ve had some good times. It didn’t feel right to betray it like that. Any Mexican food that’s labeled as bad isn’t real Mexican food.”
“You and food.” She laughed a little. I didn’t even think it sounded nervous until she spoke again. “So. Last night was so good you overslept?”
“Last night was a clear sign that I can’t go to the club on a school night.” I sat up and rubbed my face, it still felt like I hadn’t gotten enough sleep. “I don’t know how to break it to Mr. White that I won’t be able to do this every night.”
“Is he expecting that?”
“He demanded it,” I admitted.
“That seems like a bit much,” Liz hummed. “Did you just meet last night?”
I didn’t want to have this conversation, but it felt like the only person here that I could connect with on this was her. I took a breath and let it out slowly, trying to keep my cool. “He’s the guy from that first night.” I fought to find something to concentrate on as I spoke. There wasn’t anything in my cube that could entertain me. So I pressed the power button on the tower of my computer and decided I could use work as an excuse to not get caught up in a long drawn out conversation about what had happened at the club.
“Really?” For some reason, she sounded surprised. “Well, if this is going to be an ongoing arrangement with him you need to set ground rules for him. Think about what you’re willing to let him do to you and what you’re not willing to let him do. Anything that you’re uncomfortable with you need to be upfront about. I know that’ll be hard for you, but I’d rather not have him taking what he wanted from you and you just letting him because you’re too anxious to make him stop.”
“You think he’d listen to me?” It didn’t sound right. I didn’t think I had much of a choice about what he did to me. I had figured it was something I just had to take. He hadn't done anything I hadn't liked so far, aside from maybe the spanking.
“He better fucking listen to you,” she snapped in a way that caught me off guard. “If this asshole is doing shit to you that you don’t like then you need to speak up.”
She sounded angry there, which confused me. “So, I just speak up?”
She made an irritated noise. “You didn’t research any of this?”
“I looked up what a safeword was, and I made sure to include that in the article. I didn’t really touch on any other things. I kind of wrote the article in a daze.” I dropped my attention from my computer and decided that I couldn’t avoid t
his conversation with her.
“Was it that good, then?”
“Yea.” I could feel the flush coloring my face.
“Well, consider this a tip and maybe a focus for the next article. Tell him what you’re willing to let him do to you, do some research if you have to. If you have questions, don’t be afraid to ask.” She made it all sound so reasonable. So easy. “If you’re too nervous to ask him, there are other people you can talk to, too.”
“You mean you?” I asked, curious now what she did at the club.
“I got you into this mess to begin with. I don’t mind explaining to you how it works.”
I started to open my mouth then thought better of it. “I’ve got work I need to do. Maybe we can talk about this later?” I had intended to grill her about her experiences anyway, maybe doing that would give me a better idea of what to expect from Michael. Maybe it would help me set up limitations for him, too.