WEAKENED: The Manhattan Bound Series Book One

by Juliet Braddock

  “Oh, Ben, come back!” Drew shouted. “‘Broadway Boy’ is most pleased to see you this fine afternoon…”

  Shielding his face with the copies of the newspaper, Ben slowly made his shameful reentry. “Son of a bitch…I’m busted!”

  “How are you, buddy?” Drew taunted.

  “I’ll be fine as long as the Captain will still be gainfully employed next week,” Ben said, daring to peep out from one of the corners.

  “It’s all fine,” she said. “I just can’t work with Drew…”

  “Oh, I think you’re already working quite closely with him,” Ben teased in return.

  “And I think this is a lovely time to go pee!” Maxine said. “Because you two are so funny that I feel like I’ve wet my pants laughing!”

  “Maxine…” Drew minded her with a sideways glance.

  Shuffling off to the bathroom, she loved making Ben sweat it out. Little did she realize that Drew followed her back toward her bedroom, just to listen, and he was thrilled to hear the sounds of water tinkling into the bowl rather than gagging. In that small hallway, he turned to Ben.

  “She told me, Ben,” he whispered. “And I have to go in a minute here. But just make sure that she doesn’t throw up her lunch, alright?”

  Taking a step back, Ben caught his breath, stunned by Drew’s sudden turn toward tenderness. “That’s very kind of you, Drew,” he managed. “To let me know…”

  “You care about her. I need to learn to trust you.”

  “I’d give my own life for her,” Ben said. “And I know she’d give her life for me.”

  Slowly, Drew’s hand closed around Ben’s bicep, giving him a quick clutch of assurance. “You’re good to her.”

  “Oh, are you two plotting again?” Maxine called out as she bounced out of the bathroom. “What did you do? Short-sheet my bed? Put pepper in my pillowcases?”

  “No, but thanks for the ideas, Cap.”

  “Both of you need to learn how to behave,” she said and took Drew’s hand.

  “Listen, I hate to do this, but I do need to get moving,” Drew said, his voice filled with regret as this wisp of his fingers playing over her cheek. In truth, he wouldn't have dared to leave her had Ben not returned. Now he just had to text his tardiness to one pissed off vocal virtuoso. “With rehearsals starting soon, I shouldn't miss a lesson this afternoon.”

  “I’ll walk you to the door…”

  As they stood alone in the foyer, Drew traced one finger over her face to her mouth. “We're starting over, Maxine.” He could feel her lips trembling against his touch. “Understand?”

  Temptation to take his finger between lips taunted her. “Yes,” she breathed.

  “Good,” he said and pulled his hand away. “Now remember your assignment—I want you to read The Story of O.”

  “I can do that,” she said.

  “And I want a book report—due by eleven, and not a minute late. It’s not a long read,” he said. “Understand?”

  “Yes...” She attempted to stifle a giggle. “...Sir.”

  “You know, Maxine, giggling when addressing your Dominant is grounds for punishment,” he warned. “However, that sound is music to my ears, so I'll let that slide for today.”

  “I'm sorry, Sir...”

  “My dear, dear good girl...” Wild and ravaging, his eyes held her in complete stillness. “You still have so much to learn.”

  Although she made a weak attempt at playing casual, Maxine couldn't resist her urge to ask, “Kiss me?”

  “I thought you were still angry with me,” he reminded her.

  “I am, but no so much that—”

  “You can wait until tomorrow, Maxine...”

  Leaving her standing there, mouth gaping over his refusal, Drew chuckled as he headed down the steps to flag down Lou, who had parked across the street. Oh, that man knew how to make her want him…and now she had to suffer for at least an evening while she read, at his behest, some filthy book.

  Slouching against the door, Maxine groaned in resignation. This had to be why women bought vibrators…

  Chapter Eighteen

  It was around eight-thirty when Maxine finally emerged from her bedroom and made her way to the living room where she found Ben pecking at his laptop. Eyes riveted on some reality show, he didn't even notice her presence until Maxine, iPad in hand, joined him on the couch.

  “So how's Broadway Boy?” Ben asked suddenly and reached for the remote to mute the television. “Talk to him this evening?”

  “Not yet,” she said.

  Assuming a casual air, she slunk back toward the corner of the couch and began tapping at the touch screen, mindlessly listening as Ben filled her in on the latest Housewives show. Usually, Maxine didn't mind the chatter. In fact, she embraced the humor that Ben always brought to her days. But that evening, her thoughts had drifted too far away to pay attention.

  As promised, she'd whizzed through The Story of O in a matter of a couple of hours—a quick read that spiraled her downward into a serious case of the blues.

  Now as she sat to compose her e-mail, she just didn't know what to say. If Drew envisioned Maxine carrying out the ghastly daily duties of her so-called literary counterpart, she knew already that she would simply have to walk away. Over and over she made countless false starts, couching her words carefully only to delete them. She wasn't certain what frightened her more—the depiction of Drew’s so-called lifestyle in the book or the fact that if she refused to play, he just might walk away.

  When at last she hit send, she did so with a heavy heart. She hoped her stab at humor might win her some points in the end.

  FROM: Maxine Kirk

  TO: Drew McKenzie

  SUBJECT: O MY!

  DATE: September 15, 2014, 8:02 PM

  Kind Sir,

  Firstly, thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for this afternoon. Your thoughtful persistence was most appreciated. And I am grateful that you decided to stay. I hope you enjoyed your grilled cheese sandwich.

  You should also know that I have completed my assignment for the evening.

  Prostitution, piercings and posturing—O MY!

  Alas, I have some serious quandaries about this rather gruesome tale.

  Is O’s journey a true representation of consensual play? If so, I must have glossed over any mention of negotiation or safewords in the book.

  Right now, I feel gritty and scared and shocked all at the same time.

  Stylistically, I found the plot disjointed and the translation abysmal at best. If I may set a hard limit this evening, I beg of you, Kind Sir, to relieve me of any possible expectations to read the sequel.

  Mortified in Manhattan,

  MK

  “Cap...Captain...Maxine?”

  The flash of Ben’s hand in front of her face startled Maxine from her reverie.

  “Sexting with your Page Six Pinup Boy?” he teased.

  “No, Ben,” Maxine said, swiping her hand over the screen to collapse her open, sent e-mail. “Just playing a little catch-up here.”

  Wrapping himself in a soft and fuzzy throw blanket, he scooted closer to Maxine. “Tell me all the dirty things he says to you…”

  “Uh…” Her face froze in a smile as she held the iPad to her chest. “Who’s fantasizing about him here? Me…or you?”

  “Just because you landed a prettier boyfriend than I’ll ever have does not give you the right to be so cocky,” he said, pouting his lips. Judy used to tease them both that they were in a constant war with each other to see who could be the bigger brat.

  “He’s not my boyfriend.”

  “Oh, he will be soon. Trust your Uncle Benjy here…”

  “Well, you two seem like you’re becoming fast friends,” Maxine noted and reached out and held Ben’s hand. “And I’m glad. I couldn’t date anyone who didn’t understand how important you are to me.”

  “I think he could be good for you, Max,” he said. “And just so you know, we had a very brief discussion
while you were pissing this afternoon.”

  “You’re so poetic!” she rolled her eyes but the notion of Drew and Ben having a serious conversation about her left her rattled. “Now…tell me every word that was spoken!”

  Flinching a bit in his seat, Ben paused for a moment. “Drew asked me to make sure that you didn’t throw up,” he said, swinging her hand in the short distance between them. “I’m proud that you told him, Max. And I’m happy that he’s looking out for you, too.”

  Tears welled in her eyes. Drew was so very right: her life was filled with good people. She hoped she could include him in that small group, too. “He said that?”

  “You’re not mad at him are you?”

  “No.” In fact, her warm smile could have easily lit up that entire dismal townhouse. “Quite touched, actually…”

  “Good, Max. I’m glad.”

  “He said…he told me today that he wants to find me some help,” she stammered. “Here in the city.”

  “Wow…Max…that's...” Her words and Drew's deed left an imprint on his heart. Maybe there was room for just one more man in Maxine's life. “That's a noble thing he's doing.

  I must say…I’m impressed. And you should take that as a sign that he really does care for—”

  Before they had a chance to carry the conversation any further, Drew's response arrived in her inbox.

  FROM: Drew McKenzie

  TO: Maxine Kirk

  SUBJECT: Lions, Tigers and Bears....

  DATE: September 15, 2014, 8:19 PM

  Miss Mortified:

  I remain impressed this evening with both your completion of the assignment and your obvious speed-reading skills. It has been duly noted that you’ve finished your work long before the deadline.

  And you don’t have to thank me for this afternoon. Just work with me here. I have some options I’d like to present to you, but we’ll discuss those tomorrow.

  I'm also glad you're being so very honest with me—on every level. This will assist as we move forward to set limits within our play, should you so choose to stay.

  That being said, I am concerned about your absolute disdain for O.

  While I understand your lack of experience in all things sexual, you’re looking at that book in the wrong context, Maxine. I must say this is a slight disappointment. Yes, the novel depicts some scenes that—for the average Vanilla—would simply astound.

  However, try to consider her journey through training and her emerging commitment to her Master, and focus less on the actual depictions of kink in the book. Perhaps you’ll eventually understand those parallels in yourself. Take note, little one.

  As I said to you last night, I have no intention to share you with anyone, so prostitution is not an issue. Why would I ship you off to a Chateau for training when I'd have so much more fun doing that myself?

  I’m not into piercings beyond your delicious earlobes. However, in light of your revelation last night regarding toys, I would like to pursue the use of clamps with you…as a starter.

  And as for branding, I wouldn’t think of marring your beautiful little ass with a hot iron. There are many other means of a temporary nature to put my stamp on you.

  I can only hope that one day you’ll indulge me the pleasure of seeing you so gritty and scared and shocked.

  We shall start fresh tomorrow after today’s negotiated break.

  Fear not for now, as we’ll discuss this at greater length,

  Fearlessly,

  DM

  P.S. That grilled cheese was superb. You must cook for me again.

  P.P.S. I am willing to negotiate on the sequel if you agree to read Venus in Furs next.

  Immediately, she typed out her response.

  FROM: Maxine Kirk

  TO: Drew McKenzie

  SUBJECT: Maxine in Furs

  DATE: September 15, 2014, 8:33 PM

  Kind Sir:

  Once again, your clarifications have been enlightening and are much appreciated.

  I have taken note of your evaluation of this classic novel, and perhaps I may revisit the book at another time after I have gained some new insight into the matter at hand. I am always open to interpretation.

  Alas, I do shudder at one of your suggestions. Clamps? *she squeals* I will conduct further research on that matter.

  Meanwhile, I shall give this Venus in Furs you speak of a shot. Perhaps one day we shall arrive at a happy medium in our literary preferences. If I may, I suggest Lady Chatterley’s Lover.

  I am looking forward to seeing you again on the ‘morrow.

  Gritty—but no longer Scared and Shocked,

  M

  P.S. What does “Vanilla” mean?

  P.P.S. How did your vocal lesson go?

  “OK, seriously, Cap, you gotta tell me what the fuck he’s writing there. You are red from head to toe. He’s sexting you up, isn’t he?”

  “How does one ‘sext’ when sending an e-mail?” she challenged. “I believe the two are completely different forms of communication.”

  “He’s writing you dirty love notes. Getting you all hot and bothered and ready for Broadway Boy’s big cock. And then…”

  “I wish, sometimes, that I could get really mad at you,” she said, her face nearly hurting as she fought a huge grin. “But I just can’t…”

  “Max, gig is up. You gotta tell me what he's saying to you…”

  She placed her hands on her cheeks just because she couldn't believe the heat emanating from her face. She had to tell Ben something—anything—just to get him to stop. “Let's just say that, in part, you are correct. He asked me to read a little book this evening.”

  “The Joy of Sex?” Ben asked. “The Kama Sutra?”

  “Nope. Try The Story of O and oops! He just pinged me back!”

  FROM: Drew McKenzie

  TO: Maxine Kirk

  SUBJECT: Ice Cream Man

  DATE: September 15, 2014, 9:00 PM

  Dearest Gritty,

  First off, I think that’s a wonderful idea—reading the book again later. I hope our conversation takes on a much different tone at that time.

  As for old Lady Chatterley and that lover of hers, I think I'll pass as it‘s much too tame for my tastes. However, this is a great opportunity for me to explain “Vanilla,” which you should note does not imply a frozen treat or icing upon a cake. It simply refers to any person or sexual practice outside the realm of BDSM.

  Hopefully, you’ll pick your flavor soon.

  Also, thank you for inquiring of my lesson today. It went well. I’m growing ever confident that I can sing this show.

  BTW, my entire day is open tomorrow, and we’ve got some work to do. I’ll come by for breakfast, and we’ll plot the day.

  Be ready at eight. Bring your appetites with you. All of them.

  Until then…

  DM

  “The Story of O?” Ben smacked himself in the forehead. “We read that in my women’s studies class! That’s a book about…”

  Oh, Ben and his women’s studies lecture. He was so proud to have been the only man in the room for the entire semester. Naturally, his classmates loved having a male perspective on their assignments and arguments. And Ben reveled in every last moment of it. He’d earned an A, too.

  “BDSM,” Maxine filled in his thought for him. “Excuse me. I have a response to write.”

  “Hell to the no there, Captain!” Ben said as he snatched her iPad from her clutches. He did take some pity upon her, though, and didn't read the e-mail from Drew. He was quite embarrassed over the whole notion of it. This just had to be some silly, kinky prank, he knew for sure. “Why the hell would he ask you to read that book? Is he trying to scare the shit out of you?”

  “Um…not exactly…but…sort of the opposite…”

  “He’s not…? He can’t be…?” When he realized that Maxine wasn’t answering his attempted queries and that the giddy look upon her face faded to a more serious nature, he wrinkled his forehead curiously. “He’s into
that shit?”

  “May…bee…”

  “Christ, no wonder he hasn’t fucked you yet! He’s afraid to spank a virgin!”

  Ben did like to consider himself a very open-minded person. Hell, he had done a few things over the years himself that most people wouldn't exactly consider for bedtime discussion. However, Maxine was the little sister he'd always wanted, even though they were the same age. She was this wonderful, innocent lady-child with the wisdom of an old sage, and she brought out this need to protect her at all costs within him. Of course, he teased her about fucking Drew. That was a given, and Maxine even knew that she'd never lose her virginity, regardless of her suitor, without a little ribbing from Ben.

  Now though, he conjured a few images in his often devious mind that could not be unseen. These thoughts of his sweet little best friend with her innocent eyes the color of peppermint cordial—all suited up in trashy lingerie, bent over Drew's knee while he walloped her—just nearly destroyed Ben. Poor Maxine, so overwhelmed by too much in her life, had no real idea of the truth behind what she thought she might embark upon in this…relationship. Fuck, they'd just met a couple of days ago, and she was following him off into the sunset with a ring through her nose…or in this case, through her nipple!

  Although Ben didn't condone what she perceived to be her desires, Maxine was a grown woman, and he couldn't stop her. He could, however, at least share his concerns.

  “So…I wouldn’t be your best friend if I didn’t exert some caution here, Max,” Ben began gently and backed away a bit from Maxine. “Sweets, do you know what you’re getting into? What he’s expecting of you?”

  In truth, she didn't have a clue. All she had to rely upon was the Internet and Drew's word. However, one thing she did learn over the last couple of days was that Domination and submission wasn't all about whips and chains and spankings. There were certain behaviors—a manner system of sorts—that formed the crux of any relationship within the lifestyle, be it casual or long-term. Honor and respect figured into both roles. As did trust. Beyond his kinky proclivities, Drew's adamant insistence that they build that their faith in each other brought her a sense of comfort.