Requested Surrender

by Riley Murphy

  Do I need to go check?

  No. Sorry. I know where they are. Tomorrow good?

  No. Tonight. 6:30. We’re having a late dinner so you’ll have time.

  Can I go earlier?

  6:30 Lacy.

  The old Lacy would have saluted that text or shrugged. Not the new Lacy, though. The person she was right now just wanted 6:30 to come as soon as possible so she wouldn’t disappoint him.

  I’ll go to the library at 6:30 then.

  That’s my girl. I’m looking forward to it.

  She read that last part twice and couldn’t help hearing the “dreaded” sound effect silently playing out the heavy verse in her mind of, Dum-da-da-dum. Then her phone vibrated again.

  One more thing. Change your undergarments. I like pink, but black will work best tonight.

  She may have returned an affirmative on that, but for the rest of the afternoon until she’d changed and arrived at the library door at 6:28, the only question prominent in her mind, was why? Why would black work best?

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Red.

  David received Lacy’s expected text while he was standing a few feet away from the library door. She’d managed to find the notes. He was glad of that. The first one had instructed her to take off all her clothes with the exception of the black string bikinis. The second one instructed her, once she was done getting undressed, to text him that one word.

  Stepping forward, he grasped the door handle and then looked down at his phone and started the conversation.

  Are you in nothing but your panties?

  Yes.

  I want you to stand facing the desk.

  All right.

  Gingerly, he opened the door and went inside. There she was. Standing just as he wanted her to. Without a sound, he closed the door and typed.

  Bring one hand around behind you and hook a finger in that black lace. Pull it down over your ass.

  K.

  Damn. She did it. He enjoyed the sight for a full thirty seconds before he noticed how intently she stared at her cell. Right. He blinked and then added.

  Now pull it up because the sight of your ass is driving me nuts.

  She gasped and then yanked the black lace up so fast he was surprised it didn’t rip. “David!” she whirled around. “How long have you been there?”

  Grinning, he slipped his phone in his pocket and made his way to her. “Long enough. Put the cell down. You won’t need it anymore tonight.”

  She did as he directed and then straightened. “What will I need?”

  “Eyes and ears. Mouth too.” He stopped a few feet in front of her and shrugged out of his suit jacket adding, “Turn and face the direction of the desk as I asked you to.”

  It looked as if she were going to question him so he hiked a brow and stared. When she turned he tilted his head and took another long look at that ass. Round, pert and the one part of her he had yet to fully claim. Actually stake claim, as he’d be her first. The thought thrilled him, so he was going to be careful while he laid the ground work in that direction.

  It was a good time to do it, now that she was paying attention, and since she was, he wanted to keep it that way. If he played his cards right, tomorrow night might be a game changer for them. What he had planned could just be the catalyst needed to shake the demons of hers he’d been dying to meet out of hiding.

  Folding his jacket, he turned and placed it over the arm of the chair. Tonight they’d—or rather he’d—use the couch, so he’d make use of the chair as his valet. He took his time with his tie, but once it was off he draped it over the jacket. As he undid the top two buttons of his shirt, he rolled his shoulders and stretched his lower back. It was a ritual and immediately relaxed him before he systematically turned up his right sleeve and then his left. When he was done he turned toward her.

  “Lacy.” She gave a little jerk, but didn’t turn around. “Go to the desk and get the red sack. Then bring it to me.”

  His eyes never left her ass while she walked to the desk. Even when she turned and came back to him his gaze zeroed in on her pussy until she got close and then he ordered, “Sink to your knees right in front of me. Very good.” Their gazes locked as he lowered his tone and said, “Hold the bag in the cradle of your palms and lift it up. Offer it to me. Nicely.”

  He could have kissed her when she executed that command beautifully and without complaint. Taking the bag, he was impressed that she didn’t drop her hands. With a grin tipping up one side of her mouth he murmured, “I bet you killed it when you played Simon Says at school. You may put down your hands. Clasp them behind your back, but I want your eyes on me right now. Focused. Understood?”

  “Yes.”

  He tamped down the urge he had to stroke her hair. She was being so heartbreakingly obedient it tore him up. On the one hand, he wanted to hug her close and on the other, he wanted to fuck her until she begged him to not stop.

  “Who do you belong to?”

  Her pupils dilated and he noticed her breathing pattern changed. They better meet her monster soon or he feared he might become another one she’d have to deal with.

  “You.”

  That quiet admission was as good, if not better than any sex he’d ever had. As a physical joining was fleeting, no matter how much it took you over the edge. This, her agreement, bordered on being in the realm of a spiritual connection. Because in his world, a relationship didn’t get much deeper than a commitment like that. In the back of his mind, a cautionary voice reminded him that she wasn’t his…yet. Not totally, but that was going to change. Soon.

  “Do you want to see what’s in the sack?” He held it up and his cock turned even harder than it was before as she confidently shook her hair behind her shoulders. The action lifted her pebble-hard nipples higher for his view.

  “Yes.”

  That one word sounded more like, ‘I’m ready’, and gauging that she was, he didn’t waste any time opening the bag. Her gaze dropped to his hands and he stopped digging through the tissue to correct her. “Eyes on me, angel. Good. Now.” He dug through and found the metal. Slowly he pinched the object between his fore and middle fingers and took it out. Lifting until the it came between their line of vision.

  She examined it for a millisecond and then tilted her head to the side so she held his gaze uninterrupted once more. “A key?” Then she scowled. “It’s not to another chastity belt, is it?”

  His heart beat against his rib cage and it took him a five count to figure out why. When it came to him, he was absolutely horrified. He liked the bratty little dig. What the fuck? “Lacy.”

  The clock ticked and when he thought he may have to do something about her silence, she intoned, “Sorry.”

  “It’s the key to the locked desk drawer you tried to pick.” When she visibly cringed he almost laughed, and it occurred to him that all those date nights might have messed with his bad-ass Dom mojo some. Clearing his throat, he went on. “In a minute, I’m going to give you this key and tell you to stand. Then while I go to the couch and get comfortable, I’ll want you to go to that drawer and unlock it. Providing you didn’t do any damage to it in your haste to invade my things—no, don’t look down—you’ll take out the lone object in the drawer. With that in hand, bring the two other items on the desk with it, over to me. Understood?” At her nod, he nodded as well. “Good. Here’s the key. Give me your hand.” He helped her to stand and when she turned to do as he’d directed her, swatted her butt.

  “Hey.” She swung around—probably to mockingly scowl at him—but he couldn’t let her do that.

  Stepping forward, he sank a hand in her hair and made a fist, pulling back and up until she was breathless and focused, looking him in the eyes.

  He was direct and to the point. “This ass is mine. I touch it, tap it, spank it and bite it whenever I want.” Easing his hand out of her hair, he reached around and gave her right cheek a good swat. “Now go do as I’ve told you.”

  While she did,
he took the time to do a little rearranging. Carrying the footstool over to the couch he sat down and pushed that paisley footrest between his feet, as he leaned back against the sofa cushions and waited for her.

  “I knew it.” He heard her whisper under breath before she slammed the drawer shut with her hip.

  “Knew what?” He called more loudly than he needed to and got the effect he was after. She blushed.

  “This would be in there.” She held up the sleek metal plug and said matter-of-factly, “The Greece on the Post-its was a nice touch.”

  “I prefer the term lube, and how did it get on my notes?”

  She came around the desk and stopped. “No, I meant—”

  He waited and then braced himself when his bratty little angel reappeared.

  “—your derogatory cultural reference to anal sex. Of course, if I hadn’t already connected those dots, the backside glide was a nice inclusion.”

  That was as lippy as he was going to let her be. “Collect the other two items and get over here.”

  A tiny smile he read in her eyes, but a bigger one played on her lips. Maybe a little brat was good for both of them. And by little he was thinking one pass per encounter.

  She’s standing at two in this encounter. Right.

  “Now, Lacy.”

  She was quick about it at least, and when she returned to him, he leaned forward and held out his hand. “Thank you.” He accepted the dildo and the lube and put them aside, before he took the plug and stroked it with his thumb. “Eyes on me.” She’d been watching him caress the metal. “And have a seat.”

  The footrest rocked when he nudged it before he shifted so she could get between his legs to sit on it. The height difference between them was almost perfect once she had.

  “I’ll need to” —he gripped the footstool on either end where her hips pointed to and pushed back about five inches— “move you, as we need to talk.”

  “All right.”

  He liked the fact that she didn’t make a fuss. “Comfortable?” She sat with knees directly in front of her and her arms crossed over them. He wasn’t going to make her change position now, because once dinner got here, she’d have to readjust.

  “Yes.”

  To borrow her term. “All right. This is an anal plug.” He held it up just in case she didn’t get a good look at it before.

  She took a moment to examine it. Longer than he expected, so he was going to expand on the topic. He looked away, trying to decide where to start, when she said, “Good to know.”

  He did a double take and she winked at him. That’s when he knew she was fucking with him. “Lacy.”

  “I’m sorry.” She reached out and put a hand on his arm. “I’m so ready to do this thing. I promise.”

  Thing? He never got her thing references. “Please explain.”

  He was thinking she meant anal sex, but he wanted to make sure. And it was a good thing he clarified.

  “Being submissive.”

  Ah. “It’s a state of mind and a way of life. Not a thing you have to do.” Okay, why was she glaring all of a sudden? “You understand that, don’t you?”

  She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. Almost as if she was trying to find patience with him. Him. Before she exhaled and opened her eyes to look right at him. “The old Lacy would have run you around in circles. She would have hedged and made excuses. Point is, I’m trying here. I need this.” Her voice dropped to barely a whisper, “I need you. I know I do. You know it too. How though? How did you know you could make me your submissive?”

  “People like us find each other. We’re not made, we’re born. Did you think it was just a coincidence that you have Colin and Jo as friends? My guess is you gravitated to one another because of your edgier sexual preferences. Sharing your experiences with other people who are of like mind eases the worry of being different, as you’re more or less the same as them.”

  Lacy shook her head. “When I met Colin she was a tightly wound mess, and Jo? Well, Jo was just a mess. We never talked about sex. We mostly just bitched about school, work and the sorry bunch of losers we’d been dating. Then Colin got engaged to one of them and he screwed her over. So we spent a good half a year sticking pins into him at our weekly Voodoo doll party. Don’t worry, it never worked. The guy still has his dick, nose and right foot, but it would have made for an interesting honeymoon if he’d lost the first or second one of those on the list.”

  David waited. Making sure she was done with the roll she was on, before he asked, “What about you? Weren’t you a mess too?”

  “I guess.”

  “Put your hands on my knees. I like to look at your breasts.” He would have loved to look at the rest of her as well, but that would be counterproductive to what he’d hoped to accomplish tonight, so he pressed on. “Although I find the topic of Voodoo an interesting one, it’s not the one I want to talk about right now.”

  She shivered as he reached out and ran the tip of the metal plug in circles around one nipple.

  “I know what you want to talk about.”

  “You do?”

  “The white chicken lasagna.”

  His hand stilled and he frowned. “Your lunch?”

  “It was more than that, wasn’t it?”

  He had no idea. “I don’t think so.”

  “Tell me it wasn’t a test.”

  “Okay.” He leaned back and held her gaze. “It wasn’t a test.”

  “Yes, it was. You want to pick out what I’ll eat and how much I’ll eat from now on.”

  David shook his head. There was something missing here.

  “Andrew said he hoped I’d eat it because he had to report back to Master David if I didn’t. Or something like that.”

  David was a little surprised and a whole lot curious now. “Andrew said that?”

  She nodded. “Scout’s honor. I’d do the sign, but my hands are on your knees.”

  “I think Andrew’s got a soft spot for you.”

  She pursed her lips and then asked, “Why would you think that?”

  “You offered to go pick up my dry cleaning.”

  “And when I did—did you see his face— he looked appalled.”

  “Oh, he was. He takes his job very seriously. Besides, he’s English.”

  “What does that mean? That I insulted him? Is that what you’re saying?”

  David had no idea why he was saying any of this, other than he wanted his curiosity put to bed. “No. I think he appreciated the fact that you were willing to pitch in when you thought he needed help. Fine line though, for future reference. Andrew thinks he can move mountains and usually does, so I let him work at his own pace. But enough about him. I want to hear more about me being master and the chicken lasagna.”

  “Of course you do. Now that we’re Dom/sub, I know what you’re doing. You’re going to start picking out what I eat because I ate it.”

  “The white chicken lasagna?”

  “Yes.”

  She looked so serious he sat forward, and would have questioned her but there was a knock at the door.

  “Who’s that?” She snatched her hands off his knees and cupped them over her breasts, leaning down against her thighs as added measure. “Are you expecting company?”

  “I’m expecting our dinner to be delivered. Relax.”

  As he went to get the tray of assortments he’d asked Francesca to put together for them, he mulled over her comments. By the time he returned, wheeling the server over to the couch, he asked, “So if I understand correctly, you think I was going to decide what you would eat from now on?” He lifted the lid off the tray and then looked down at her.

  She nodded and then her eyes widened as she looked at the food on the tray. “Is that pudding?”

  “It is. But you don’t get any of that until we have dinner.”

  “You see? There you go.”

  David sat down in front of her again and adjusted the cart closer. “I think the normal progression of a meal is to e
at it before you eat your dessert.”

  She craned her neck and examined the tray. “It does look pretty good. Are those mini quiches? They’re so cute. They’re all little minis.”

  “They are and I’m going to feed them to you while we talk.”

  Her excitement instantly fled. “About that?” She pointed to the plug.

  “Among other things.” He didn’t like backtracking, but he felt he needed to so she understood where they were in the relationship process. She needed to know that he was more possessive boyfriend right now than he was her Dom. A Dom, at least the kind that he was, wouldn’t have him asking her if she belonged to him. They’d both know it in spades. “First thing I’d like to address is your earlier comment.” He picked up a stuffed mushroom and held it out to her. “Hands on my knees. That’s right. Open up.” The slide of her lips over his fingers as she accepted the bite of food got him warm. “I’m not your Dom.”

  “Yorpt noph?”

  He wondered if she did it on purpose. “It’s not polite to talk with your mouth full.” He turned to choose another bite when he stopped mid-reach.

  “Ohay.”

  Yeah, she was probably fucking with him, but he ignored it. “And to answer your question, I’m not. I haven’t asked so you haven’t committed.”

  “Oh.”

  Holding an asparagus spear wrapped in prosciutto, he said, “Open. Good, now as for your other canny observation.” He noticed her frowning and clarified. “The one where you thought I wanted to pick out your food. That’s absolutely ridiculous. Even now, if there’s something on this tray you don’t like, don’t eat it.” He heard the intake of breath through her nose, clearly she was relieved, so he threw this out there. “Don’t get me wrong. When I’m your Dom, there will be something I want to control, but it’s not the food you eat.”

  Her chewing had slowed to a near stall. Any slower and he gauged she’d be pushing it off her tongue, the way someone does when they learn the rib-eye steak they thought they’d be eating was really the cow’s ass.

  “If we move to that phase of our relationship I’ll be selecting what set of undergarments you’ll put on each day for the rest of your life.” He saw the look. “What, that surprises you? The commitment I make as your Dom is no less than the commitment a vanilla guy makes when he marries a woman. Granted, that regular guy wants his intended to wear a ring to showcase her pride in being with him. What I want my woman to wear is the fabric I choose to go between her thighs, so she knows I’ve chosen with pride of ownership the things I hold dear.”