MR. H.

by Samantha Hart

  Walking on to the plane, and turning left towards first class was an unreal new experience for me. Hundreds of hours I’d spent on a plane, but never had I turned left upon entering an aircraft. I didn’t realise why people spent thousands of dollars more on first class tickets – until now. A private suite? On a plane? You’re kidding? I didn’t even know that was a thing. A flat screen TV, personal mini bar, room service, almost full size bed, and Mr. H, all to myself for six hours. On. A. Plane. I was like a child experiencing a toy shop for the very first time. I wasn’t normally one for luxury things or lavish experiences, but boy was I dazzled by Mr. H’s lifestyle.

  “Right, now that we’re up in the air, time to discuss your wee eye rolling incident back there.” Mr. H began, “Anything you want to say about that?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I said, looking out at the clouds, playing oblivious.

  “Hannah…” Mr. H said, trying to get my full attention.

  “Callan…” I replied.

  “Oh my god, what’s gotten into you today?”

  “Not you.” I retorted.

  “Ohh I get it now, I need to fuck the bratty-ness out of you.” He beamed. “Are you feeling cranky because you didn’t get any this morning baby girl?”

  “What, no. No, that was just a joke.”

  “I don’t think so. Come here.” He said, motioning for me to come sit on his lap. Reaching down into his carry-on luggage, he pulls out two strange looking clips with a chain running between. “Know what these are?”

  I shook my head.

  “Take your shirt off. Bra too. Now.”

  I wanted to protest, it didn’t seem right getting naked 30,000ft in the air, but I was already in enough trouble for one day, I didn’t want to push it too far – Mr. H likes a submissive woman with spunk, not an annoying bratty child. So off they came, my nipples standing stiff at the sudden change of temperature.

  “Oh perfect, they’re excited to meet their new friend.” Mr. H said, briefly tweaking each nipple.

  Oh right, nipple clamps, I realised. I’d never seen them in real life before, let alone used them. I have to admit – I was genuinely afraid at this point, as I’d only ever thought of them as some kind of medieval torture device. Mr. H delicately placed a clamp on to each nipple, tightening them to his satisfaction, causing a slight grimace to appear on my face.

  “Hurt?” He asked.

  “No, just new.”

  “Ok, don’t move, don’t touch, I’ll be right back.”

  Leaving me waiting was one of his favourite games, he knew it fucked with my head, he knew it sent me into a tailspin of thoughts and he knew it put me straight into a very submissive mind-set upon his return. Not to mention, he knew exactly how hungry it made me, for him.

  Where could he have possibly gone? It’s a plane for crying out loud. The pressure under the clamps was beginning to feel more noticeably painful as the minutes passed, but not a bad pain – going by the warmth growing between my legs, I was enjoying this, a lot.

  After what felt like ten minutes, Mr. H returned, with a small bucket in hand. “Close your eyes please Miss James. – Keep them closed until I say otherwise, if I catch you peeking – I’m tightening these.” He said, tugging on the chain.

  “Woah.” I had to steady myself, such a small tug sent such a large spark of pain through my nipples.

  “Kneel on the bed please, legs slightly spread.” He commanded, helping me move into position with my eyes closed. I could feel his hand venturing up my skirt, briefly swiping across my sex before pulling away. “It feels like you like these clamps, don’t you? Fuck, Hannah, you just keep on surprising me.”

  I heard a small rattling noise inside the bucket as he moved it closer, I couldn’t for the life of me figure out what was in it. But it only took one touch for me to work it out, as soon as Mr. H placed it on my clamped nipple I knew what it was, ice. He moved the block of ice from nipple to nipple, over and over again, alternating between cold ice and a warm mouth, before moving further down my body to my – yip, very cold, very very cold. Opening my eyes in panic over my slowly freezing clitoris, I quickly shut them again, realising I’d just made a big mistake – hoping he didn’t see me, my whole body tensed, waiting for the…“Ouch!” I said, as the clamps were tightened.

  “Open your eyes Hannah.” Mr. H ordered, climbing on to the bed next to me. “Wanna join the mile high club?”

  I smiled as he unzipped his pants, patting his lap for my return. Yes! Finally, I thought, straddling his lap. Slowly lowering myself on to every inch of him, he gripped on to my thighs, picking me up and slamming me back down, setting the pace and intensity. I was on top, but he was still completely in control. There would be no escaping his wrath – even if I wanted to, which I definitely did not. He used me like a toy for his own pleasure, and I loved every second of it. In some strange way it felt powerful to be needed by this man, like I was his kryptonite.

  “Wow.” I said, walking through San Diego airport, “That was, by far, the best flight I’ve ever been on.”

  “Me too Baby, Me too.” Mr. H replied, patting my butt on his way past to the rental car kiosk.

  And of course, it wasn’t your run of the mill, stock standard rental car. Apparently when in San Diego the proper way to get around is via Ferrari. Well, that’s going to create quite the entrance. I immediately began to worry about what my family would think of us pulling up to the wedding in a Ferrari. I didn’t want to take any of the focus off Vanessa’s big day – even if we had never gotten along that well, we were amicable as cousins, but never close by any means.

  “What are you waiting for Miss James? Get in.” Mr. H said, as I stood on the sidewalk in disbelief.

  “You are ridiculous, you know that?” I said, climbing into my chariot, “A Ferrari, you had to get something crazy didn’t you. My dad’s going to lose it, you know he’s going to be your new best mate now right?”

  “Good. Nothing wrong with having your father on side.”

  The open top of the Ferrari was a treat for all my senses, the fresh breeze flowing through my loose hair, the uninterrupted sights, and the smells – oh yes, whenever I get that distinct whiff of the ocean, I know I’m home. When the waves are big and loud and I can smell the salt water air wafting in, it is one of the best sensory combinations I can imagine.

  After a twenty minute drive, we arrived at pacific beach, pulling into what appeared to be a beach front mansion, for lack of better words. It was huge, and so unnecessary for just the two of us. For two days. I had no idea what we needed six bedrooms for, let alone the five bathrooms, sauna, hot tub, swimming pool and fire pit.

  “Mr. H, this is nuts.” I said, walking into the foyer. “This must have cost more to rent for two nights than Vanessa’s entire wedding.”

  “Oh, I didn’t rent it – I bought it – for us – I thought whenever we or you decide to visit your parents it would be great to have our own place here.”

  “I think you mean it’s yours then, it’s not ours. I didn’t pay for any of this.” I muttered quietly, not realising he could hear me.

  “I said, it’s ours Hannah. I bought it for us. Half mine, Half yours, I don’t care who paid for it – let’s go find the master bedroom.”

  That’s all it took, I couldn’t believe it, three weeks, and he was willing to buy me a house, three weeks after meeting. I knew we had chemistry, I could feel that, I knew I was falling for him, I could definitely feel that – but I did not see this coming, a straight out of left field massive commitment to our future.

  “What time do we have to be at your parents for dinner?” Mr. H asked.

  “6pm, we’ve got about an hour and a half.” I said. “But they live a good half an hour away from here.”

  “You’ll find all your outfits in this bag, they’re labelled, you’ll need to go through and find the one for tonight. I’m just going to nip out and find a nice bottle of wine to bring.”

  Wedding
ceremony, wedding reception, casual wear, bikinis, flight home, and… dinner at parents – ah there it is, definitely not an outfit my parents would’ve been expecting, I wasn’t one to dress up around them, dress being the key word – they’d barely seen me in a dress twice since my childhood, one of those times being prom, and now they were about to see me in three different dresses in two days.

  Tonight’s was a navy and white striped 50’s style tea dress, paired with navy pumps. It was cute, I’ll give him that, it could’ve been worse. But what he had chosen for underneath was far from cute – don’t get me wrong, I was more than glad he was allowing me underwear but it was a very sexy navy one piece, I felt like an elite high class escort wearing it – not quite the right vibe around my parents, but I think he knew that, he liked reminding me I was his for the taking – whenever, wherever.

  I wasn’t planning to get myself into the dress until after Mr. H had arrived back, however I decided at the last minute that he already knew what lingerie I was going to be wearing, but having to wait to see what it looked like on me until much later was going to eat away at him. I liked that. I liked watching him grow more ravenous, more impatient, having to hold himself back from ripping my clothes off my body.

  “That took an awfully long time to buy one bottle of wine.” I said, grinning, pretending to tap my foot.

  Mr. H cocked an eye, with the slightest hint of a smirk appearing.

  “Joking – I’m joking, you know? Ha-ha?” I said, unable to read his expression.

  “Let’s go.” He said, “I don’t want you blaming me for being late again.”

  “Good idea.” It had been around six months since visiting home at Christmas time, so I was really excited to be seeing my parents again, even if we did have to attend the dumb wedding.

  Once we entered my parents’ neighbourhood, I was instantly reminded of my childhood, the pungent smell coming from the Eucalyptus trees lining the street was still overpoweringly delicious. Pulling into the driveway was a surreal experience, it was the same driveway as I’d driven into all of my childhood, but today we were parking a near new Ferrari 488 spider worth more than a quarter of a million dollars.

  I saw dad standing in the ivy clad kitchen window as we pulled up, his jaw dropped, I’m surprised he didn’t faint. He’d dreamt of driving a Ferrari since he was a young man – a dream he had thought would never be realised. He’d made it outside and over to the car before we had even stepped foot out of it.

  “Oh my – my, my, my.” Dad said, walking around the Ferrari.

  “Hi Dad.” I said, springing out of the car and throwing my arms around him, “This is –”

  “Callan, Sir, nice to meet you.” Mr. H cut in.

  “Ken, call me Ken, no need for that Sir business around here.” Dad said, shaking Mr. H’s hand.

  I had to turn away to avoid smiling conspicuously, if only Dad knew the man he was shaking hands with made me call him Sir, and spanked me if I didn’t.

  “Hannah, Callan, So glad you made it.” Mom said, walking outside with open arms.

  “Lovely to finally meet you Mrs James.” Mr. H said, reaching out to shake her hand.

  “Oh no honey we don’t shake hands here, and please, call me Patricia. Come here and give me a hug.”

  “Mom. Chill. Here take this bottle of wine.” I said, trying to distract her from attempting to squeeze the life out of Mr. H.

  Mr. H smiled in my direction before indulging Mom in a long hug, so long I practically had to pry her off of him to get a Mom hug of my own.

  Walking inside the house, was like walking in at any age of my childhood – it had never changed, same old wallpaper, same old décor, and same old furniture in the same old places. I don’t know how they lived like that, stuck in a time warp.

  “Dinner will still be twenty minutes away darling, your brothers aren’t here yet – why don’t you show Callan your old room.” Mom said.

  My room was exactly as I left it when I left for UCLA, embarking on my journey to become a world class Author. There were small snippets of my early writings tacked to the walls, framed pictures of me at book signings with my favourite authors and books literally stacked to the ceiling. I was mortified allowing Mr. H into my nerdy world, but that’s just who I was, he was going to see it sooner or later so, now it was.

  Closing my bedroom door behind us Mr. H whispered, “Bet you were never allowed boys in your room when you lived at home.”

  “Being allowed and doing are two entirely different things Mr. H.” I said teasingly.

  “So, you’ve done this before.” Mr. H said, picking me up and throwing me onto my childhood bed. Reaching up inside my dress he realised he’d set up his own undoing, “Oh no, I forgot about this. Fuck.” His hand had found its way to the lingerie he’d provided for tonight.

  “But it looks so good on.” I taunted, with a sexy wink.

  “Fuck. Look what you’ve done.” Mr. H said pointing down at his uncontrollable bulge, “Why do you always have to be so damn arousing Hannah James.”

  “Sorry about that – we’d better be getting back downstairs before my Dad catches us, even a Ferrari won’t save your ass then.”

  “You go, I’ll meet you down there. I wouldn’t mind reading some of these writings of yours… and you know – waiting.”

  I laughed as I walked off downstairs. I felt somewhat in control, but I wasn’t sure if I liked that or not. It was different, that’s for sure.

  Helping Mom set the table, I noticed my brothers Liam and Brendon had arrived, they were still outside, circling the Ferrari – I was sure I could see their drool hitting the ground. It felt good to be able to one up them for once, they’d normally been the successful ones growing up – football scholars, great jobs, but not great enough for a Ferrari.

  “Put your tongues away Boys.” I said, walking outside.

  “Hannah!” They said in unison, coming running for me. They were pains in the ass growing up, but I loved them anyway, the two big protective bears that they were. Always vetting any potential boyfriend of mine, sending them running before we even had a chance. They’d never liked or approved of Jason – I probably should’ve listened but you know, hindsight is a wonderful thing.

  “So where’s this Millionaire boyfriend of yours then little sis?”

  “He’s inside, but don’t call him that please.”

  “What? Millionaire? Or boyfriend?” They teased.

  “Both.” I said, “Come on, I’ll introduce you.”

  Being introduced to your new love interest’s two big brothers would be daunting for any man, but not Mr. H. They were no match for his charm, claiming he was their new bestie within five minutes of knowing him.

  “Sorry Hannah, you’ll have to find a new date for the wedding tomorrow, he’s mine now.” Liam joked.

  “Sure.” I said, laughing, “You’ll love the dress he has picked out for you.”

  “Touché little sis, touché.” Brendan added, “Anyway Liam, I thought we were going together, you dumping me man?”

  “Alright, Alright, you lot, dinner is served.” Mom announced, putting an end to our display of sibling love.

  Sitting at the table, Mom decided now was as good of a moment as any to grill Mr. H, and when I say grill what I really mean is interrogate. Do you treat my daughter well? How old are you? Where do you live? Why are you single? What’s your bank balance? Well, maybe not quite all of those questions but you catch my drift. “Are you going to introduce my daughter to your parents any time soon?” Mom asked.

  “Yes, Mrs James, I actually can’t wait to introduce Hannah to my parents.” That was news to me – I had no idea.

  “Patricia, remember? Where do they live? Where did you grow up?”

  “Sorry Ma’am. The Hamptons, they moved out there about ten years ago when they retired. And I was born and bred in New York City Ma-am, I grew up living in one of the hotels my parents’ owned.”

  “Is that where all your money came from
? Your parents’ business?”

  “MOM! ENOUGH!” I said, even I hadn’t asked him these questions yet.

  “Hannah, its ok, yes Patricia they ran a lucrative chain of hotels, and sold the business upon retiring. I am an only child, and yes probably a very spoilt only child, but I try to stay humble.” Mr. H revealed.

  Although hideously embarrassed over Mom’s relentless questioning, I was glad at least to finally know the answers to some of the questions that had been nagging at me.

  “Anything else Mom? Or do you think you might be done with your interrogation for the day?” Liam asked.

  “Will I be getting any Grandchildren any time soon? I’ll be waiting until I’m 100 if I have to wait for either of these boys to reproduce.”

  “MOM! That’s it, no more. I’m serious now.” I said, not wanting to hear how Mr. H was going to answer that one.

  I already knew he wanted kids, we didn’t need to discuss this with my mother, he would then have the unfair advantage of having her on his side. I didn’t need to have her on my back for the next few years begging for grandkids.

  “Ok fine, I was only joking with that one Hannah but sheesh did you jump down my throat – sensitive topic I’m guessing.” Mom said.

  “No, I’m just tired Mom. We should probably get a move on back to our place shortly, or I’ll never get up in the morning for this god awful wedding.”

  Mr. H took the boys out one at time for a quick blast up the street in the red machine before we left, leaving me to help Mom clean up and have an honest talk. Of course she wanted to know if I was happy, which I was. She wanted to know how serious we were, which I couldn’t answer. She wanted to know if I saw a future with this man, which I did. I told her about the beach house, which instantly made her smile beam, knowing I had a house within half an hour of home, and that he wanted me around my family. She told me she loved him and if I didn’t want him, she’d have him. Parental approval granted.

  “Bye Mr and Mrs James. Uh, I mean Ken and Patricia.” Mr. H said as we were leaving, “Was a real pleasure to meet you both.”