I Am a Dominant

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I Am a Dominant Page 11

by Maggie Carpenter


  “Return to your position,” I demanded, “and keep those fingers locked.”

  Muttering under her breath she did as I instructed, and laying the gummy whip against the virgin cheek, I teased for a moment before delivering the same two flicks, one after the other.

  “Ooh, shit,” she wailed, “that stings like crazy. Please, no more, no more!”

  “I told you, two on each side. Stay as you are.”

  Returning to the closet I slipped the whip back into the bag, then sighing heavily I returned to the bed. Her full, plump bottom showed the marks, and sitting next to her I stroked her blonde locks from her face.

  “How do we feel about buying cigarettes now?”

  “I won’t, I won’t,” she bleated. “It hurts, it really hurts.”

  “You’ve been disciplined. It’s supposed to hurt. I don’t fool around when it comes to discipline.”

  “No shit,” she retorted.

  “You can move now. Come into bed, I’ll cuddle you, but no messing around tonight or in the morning, that’s the second part of your punishment. If you’re a good girl tomorrow night you’ll have your pleasure.”

  “Whaaat? James, no,” she begged.

  “And no playing with yourself.”

  “Ooh, James.”

  “You said you wanted me to take you in hand if you were tempted to smoke again, so I have.”

  I climbed under the sheets, and whimpering softly she crawled forward and curled up against my body. As a wave of fatigue sent me drifting away, the bright light of doubt resurfaced, hovering around my head.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The Truth Comes Out

  The following morning she dawdled, clearly not wanting to leave. I’d slipped from the bed early, showered downstairs in the guest room so I wouldn’t wake her, and had been up for some time when she finally appeared, poking her head around my study door.

  “Hey. I missed you when I woke up,” she said softly.

  “I keep my promises,” I smiled, standing up and moving across to her. “You ready to leave? I’ll walk you out.”

  “I was thinking, maybe we could go out for breakfast.”

  “Not this morning, sorry. You know this is a busy time for me. I have to get some things done before work tomorrow.”

  It was true, but I also needed to have some space. She looked mournful as I walked her down the street to her car, and as she climbed in she looked up at me with puppy dog eyes.

  “My butt still hurts. I hate that thing you used.”

  “I’ll pick you up at 7 p.m., don’t keep me waiting,” I said firmly, ignoring her complaint.

  “I don’t know why you didn’t just spank me like always, that would have been enough.”

  “If you keep whining I’ll bring it with me tonight and use it in the playroom.”

  “NO!”

  “Yes,” I said sternly. “I’ll see you later,” and kissing her lightly I closed her door.

  I wasn’t surprised when she called me early in the afternoon to say she wasn’t feeling well.

  “I hope you’re better soon,” I offered. “Is it the sniffles?”

  “No, I feel a bit achy, and I have a headache.”

  “Not to worry. If you feel up to going out later you can always ring me.”

  “James, do you think you could swing by with some chicken soup from that deli around the corner? You could come by early, before you go to the club.”

  I paused. It’s in my nature to nurture, and though I didn’t believe she was sick, if there was the slightest chance she was…

  “Please?” she pressed. “We could have it together before you go. It won’t be the same without you here tonight. I’ll be so lonely.”

  “I’ll bring some by but I can’t stay, Helen.”

  “Can you come over after you leave then? Spend the night?”

  “That depends on how late I’m there,” I replied. “I haven’t seen Geoff and Melody for a while.”

  “Okay,” she sighed, “but you’ll bring the soup, right?”

  “Yes, Helen, I’ll drop off your soup on the way.”

  The conversation left me shaking my head. I’d not seen Helen as a clinging desperate woman, but it was becoming apparent that’s exactly what she was; that first, niggling doubt had been telling me to back off; now I had to find a way to delicately pull out of the relationship.

  As I’d promised I dropped into the deli and picked up the soup, but driving down her street I realized I’d have to double-park. Leaving my engine running I dashed up the steps and pressed her button on the building directory. She buzzed the door open, but I couldn’t leave my car so I placed the container just inside and texted her.

  Soup inside next to door, double-parked. Will call you soon.

  I waited for her response, and was just about to give up when a lone ‘k’ appeared on my phone.

  Things between us were clearly disintegrating.

  Driving to the club I fought the temptation to call her, and as the building came into view I felt a wave of relief. It was just what I needed; my stomping grounds, old friends, and my first weekend night away from Helen since we’d met.

  The crowd on the dance floor was thin, and entering the second floor it was about the same, but it was early, and a Sunday. Spotting Geoff at the bar I wandered across to join him.

  “Hey, good to see you,” he smiled. “I just bought us a bottle of Pinot. Do you want something else?”

  “No, Pinot sounds great,” I replied.

  “Where’s the spoken for?”

  “The spoken for isn’t coming,” I frowned. “There’s trouble in paradise.”

  “Ah, it happens,” he sighed. “You bring the glasses, I’ll bring the bottle. Maybe Melody can shed some light from a woman’s perspective.”

  “Maybe, but I think the writing’s on the wall,” I remarked as the bartender set two glasses on the counter. “We’ll need a third, please.”

  “There’s something wrong with three glasses and a bottle of wine,” Geoff remarked.

  “You’re right,” I grinned, “but right now it looks good from where I’m standing.”

  We walked across to the table where Melody was waiting, and she stood up to hug me hello, looking ravishing in a deep purple corset.

  “It should be illegal to dress like that,” I smiled. “You look amazing.”

  “Thanks, James. How are you? Where’s your lady friend?”

  “Not coming,” Geoff interjected.

  “Quite honestly I’d like to talk about something else,” I declared sitting down. “Tell me what’s going on with you two.”

  We started chatting, and as I drank the wine and our meals were ordered and delivered, my mood lifted. I was starting to feel like my old self, and I was halfway through my perfectly cooked steak when my cell phone jangled in my pocket; I had a text. Fishing it out I stared at the screen and grimaced.

  Thanks for the soup. Please come by. I miss you. I need you.

  “Not good news?” Melody asked.

  “I think I’m in a pickle,” I replied. “Not sure what to do about this one.”

  “Maybe I can help?” she offered.

  “She’s awfully good at advice stuff,” Geoff chimed in.

  It’s not really my style to discuss such things, but it occurred to me that a woman’s point of view, especially a submissive woman, might be just what I needed.

  Succinctly I described the weekends, the fantasies that weren’t really fantasies, the developments over the previous twenty-four hours, and how I needed to delicately end the relationship.

  “Normally I’d just have a frank conversation, wipe up any tears, and be on my way, but there’s something off about her. I don’t think that will do it. She’s…different.”

  They listened patiently, then Melody tilted her head to one side.

  “What’s her name?”

  “Helen Baker,” I replied.

  “Oh, no,” she groaned. “As you were talking she flashed
into my mind. You’ve gotten hooked up with Happy Helen.”

  “You know her?” Geoff interjected clearly surprised.

  “I know of her,” Melody groaned, “and so do you. Don’t you remember? What was his name, that accountant, Ian something?”

  “Oh, no, Ian Combes. Yes, of course.”

  “This doesn’t sound good,” I said grimly. “Please, fill me in, you’ve got me really worried. Who is Happy Helen?

  “Helen isn’t a submissive. She’s anything but. She’s a total control freak, and she’s also a stalker.”

  I felt this strange prickling clamminess move through me, and then the penny dropped.

  From that first lunch, when she’d so beguilingly laid out her ‘fantasy’ about sitting in front of a fire and being fed the dessert, she’d been manipulating me.

  Shit. The cooking, the fabulous meals…the way to a man’s heart…!

  I suddenly felt embarrassed. I was a poster child for the hackneyed phrase, then I realized she hadn’t been tempted to smoke, it had been a complete lie. She thought I’d spank her and that would draw me back in; the gummy whip had thrown her for a loop.

  Did she ever smoke, or was that a lie too?

  “Oh, shit,” I groaned. “Why is everything so clear in hindsight? I’ve been a complete idiot.”

  “You were right when you said you were in a pickle,” Geoff declared.

  “What the hell do I do?”

  “I’ll tell you what I know about her and what Ian went through,” Melody offered, “and one thing I can tell you is you can’t be the one to end things. If you dump her you’ll have a real problem on your hands.”

  “I’m beginning to see that,” I said soberly, staring back down at my phone. “I’d better text her back.”

  Probably not tonight. Will call you tomorrow. Feel better. Hope the soup helped.

  “Fingers crossed that’s calmed her down,” I sighed hitting the SEND button.

  Throughout the rest of our meal Melody shared what she knew about Helen, and the torment Ian was made to endure; it wasn’t pretty. After finishing our coffee I followed them up to the playroom, but not to participate; I needed to sit in the lounge, nurse a drink, and cogitate.

  Wandering into the familiar bar I chose to sit at the counter rather than a table. Max, the bartender who had been serving there for years, greeted me with a welcoming smile.

  “Brandy please, Max, and make it an expensive one. My soul needs to be soothed.”

  “That doesn’t sound like you,” he frowned. “There’s must be a woman involved.”

  “You would be correct. I need to gently and carefully remove myself from a relationship, and it may not be easy.”

  “Ah, one of those,” he replied as he splashed the golden liquid into a brandy glass. “Best way is to make it their idea.”

  “I’ve already received that advice and I plan to use it, I just have to figure out exactly how to do that.”

  “Find out what she doesn’t like, then give it to her in spades,” he grinned. “It’s not that complicated.”

  “Huh, that makes sense. Thanks, Max. I don’t know why I didn’t think of that.”

  “Because you’re in the middle of it,” he said tactfully. “It’s much easier to see things when you’re not caught in the black widow’s web.”

  “You just hit the nail on the head,” I declared. “That’s exactly where I am, but I have to confess I have no idea how I ended up there.”

  “Just make yourself unappetizing and she’ll let you loose,” he grinned. “Excuse me, I have to mix some drinks for my cute waitress here.”

  Margo, the lone server, waved across at me.

  “Hi, James, I haven’t seen you in a while.”

  “I promise that’s about to change,” I smiled.

  Sipping on the warm, velvet liquid, I shifted my gaze to the mirror behind the bottles neatly stacked at the back of the bar. Patches of my face stared back at me, and I decided to think about the problem as I would a deal. I could always find ways to make a deal work, and by the time I’d finished my drink and was ready to leave an idea had sparked to life. Downing the last of the brandy I broke into a smile; I was back in touch with the Dominant that I am.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  A Narrow Escape

  Mondays were always hectic for me, but I had no plans for the evening and I’d already decided to deal with Helen immediately. I dialed her on my way to work and she answered the phone on the second ring.

  “How are you feeling?” I asked “Better I hope.”

  “Yes, that chicken soup was perfect, thank you for bringing it by.”

  “I would have brought it up but my car was double-parked. I couldn’t leave it,” I said, hoping it sounded like an apology.

  “So you mentioned in your text. It’s okay. How was your evening? Was the club busy?”

  Her voice was cool, removed, and I wondered if I even needed to go through with my plan, but from everything Melody had told me I couldn’t take any chances. If Happy Helen went into stalker mode I could have a real mess on my hands.

  “Not really. It was good to see Geoff again. After dinner I went up to the lounge behind the playroom and had a brandy, then came home. Fairly uneventful, but it was good to get out.”

  “So…do you want me to come over this Saturday…like normal?”

  I could hear her apprehension, but I could also hear her need; there was no question she still wanted me.

  “Yes, sure, but I thought I might come to your place this evening, make up for not being together last night. I’ll be tied up the rest of-”

  “Tonight? Really?” she interrupted.

  Her voice was effervescent; she was thrilled.

  “Yes, really, and tonight it will be my turn to share a fantasy. Something I’ve been wanting to do with you for a while.”

  “Ooh, James, that sounds so intriguing.”

  “Will you have time to cook after work, or should I bring something?”

  “I’ll have time, I can whip us up a dinner, no problem.”

  “Great, then I’ll come straight from the office. I have to run, I’m heading into my building and I’ll lose you.”

  “Okay, see you soon.”

  Ending the call I looked across at my bag of tricks sitting innocently on the passenger seat, and the bottle of wine keeping it company. Helen was in for a rude awakening; the Dominant man she’d met had woken up, and was alive and well.

  The day sailed by. Meetings, conference calls, and problem solving stole the hours, and as I left my office and headed to my car I loosened my tie. I needed to breathe, I needed to psyche up, I needed this to work.

  Traffic was as bad as ever, and when I drew near Helen’s building there wasn’t a parking space in sight. I was almost about to drive home and call for a car when magically I saw someone pulling out at the end of the block. Hitting the accelerator I raced ahead and managed to maneuver into the tight spot, then turning off the engine I took a deep breath.

  “A tight spot,” I muttered. “That’s exactly what I’m in, and I’m determined to get myself out it.”

  Grabbing my bag and the bottle of wine I marched up the street, ignoring the cold, and a few minutes later she answered her door dressed in nothing but an elaborate pinafore.

  “Hello,” she beamed. “I’m so happy to see you. I really missed you.”

  “You naughty girl,” I grinned. “Look at what you’re wearing, or more to the point, not wearing. I’m going to have to spank you for being so scandalous.”

  “And I thought you’d like it,” she said facetiously.

  “Funny,” I quipped. “If you’re going to bare that gorgeous bottom so shamelessly, at the very least it deserves a good walloping.”

  She laughed out loud, then pointed at my bag.

  “What’s in there?”

  “In here is my fantasy,” I winked, “and you’ll just have to wait and see exactly what that is.”

  Giggling, she took the bottl
e to open it, and pulling off my overcoat I followed her into the kitchen. The aroma immediately whetted my appetite; I couldn’t deny I was definitely going to miss her cooking, and knowing this would be my last supper I intended to savor every bite. As I sat down at the kitchen table she brought my glass of wine, then perched herself on my lap.

  “I guess I was a bit…uh…short-tempered the other night,” she said softly. “Am I forgiven?”

  “Yes, you’re forgiven, but you know you must be punished, and it’s clear I’ve been far to lenient.”

  “James,” she sighed, wiggling on my lap, “when you talk like that it drives me crazy.”

  “I’m not sure why. It means you’re going to be taught who’s in charge around here.”

  A bell dinged, and jumping up she hurried to the stove. It was some kind of spicy Indian dish, and she spooned it over saffron rice on large dishes.

  “I thought we’d eat here in the kitchen tonight. Is that okay? I didn’t have time to do the whole dining room thing.”

  “Here is great. Food is food.”

  “Are you going to spank me very hard?” she asked bringing the plates to the table and sitting opposite me.

  “I’m going to do more than spank you, Helen,” I said sternly. “You need to be taught a lesson or two.”

  We began to eat and I could sense her trepidation. After the gummy whip episode I’d given her reason to worry.

  She began chatting about her work and the project she’d started, and though I appeared to be listening attentively, all the while I was thinking how badly I needed to extricate myself from her clutches.

  “Did you enjoy that?” she asked as I took the last delicious morsel.

  “It was fantastic. You really have missed your calling. You absolutely should be a chef. You can cook anything, and everything you make is delicious. Why are you wasting your talent?”

  “I think about it sometimes. A friend of mine has said he’d back me in a catering business, and I’m considering it.”

  “That’s the perfect springboard for you. I’d hire you in a heartbeat.”

 

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