I really wondered what being a sub was like, but deep inside I knew I wouldn’t like it. I’m one of the most independent, assertive alpha women around. There is nothing submissive about me. When I think of a woman being a submissive I picture her in a French maid costume dusting for her Dominant and baking cookies. I’m not good at baking and I rarely dust my own apartment. I could never imagine cooking and cleaning for some man who calls himself Dom. And the thought of being gagged terrifies me. But I never thought I’d like being tied up until tonight. It happened so fast that I didn’t have time to think about it. All of a sudden Trevor was on top of me and in complete control, and I was his helpless little fuck toy to have his way with. It’s not something that I’d ever dreamed of but the reality of it was hotter than I could have ever imagined. I tossed and turned in bed as my mind wrestled with the pros and cons of being a submissive. I was too tired to make any decisions tonight and besides I didn’t have all the information. I almost never make decision on a whim. I like to have all the facts in front of me, but that being said I was tempted to wake Trevor up and tell him to forget about his dreams of making me his submissive because it was never going to happen. I was both nervous and excited about me and Trevor’s lesson for tomorrow. I was confident he would be very convincing in his role as teacher. I always had a sneaking suspicion that he was a certifiable genius. I was constantly in awe of his brilliance. I was excited to at least become his student even if I couldn’t stomach becoming his sub. I nuzzled closer to Trevor in bed and my heart fluttered as I thought about what tomorrow would bring.
Chapter 2
TREVOR WAS ALREADY up, showered, and in his home office by the time I got out of bed. He hated to be interrupted while working, so I ate breakfast on my own. Simon had left out lox and bagels, and an assorted fruit plate. Everything was delicious. I wondered how Simon got in and out of the condo without waking me up. He came twice a day, once in the early morning to prepare breakfast and lunch, and once in the late afternoon to prepare dinner. I had only ever met him once because I was usually sleeping or at work when he came in. Everyone on Trevor’s staff seemed to love him. Trevor could be intense sometimes, but he had the sharpest of people skills. He was like a chameleon. He was laid back enough to communicate with his staff on a level that they could relate to, but at executive business lunches he was always the most brilliant alpha in the room. And when he was in the studio, or hanging out with his musician friends, his dark and eccentric side came out. Trevor glowed in social and in business settings but when he was creating he was always morose and brooding. I asked him why he was always in such a weird mood when he was working on his music, and he explained that he created from a place of pain. He went on to say that music was his catharsis, and his creative process helped him stay balanced.
I was happy he finished writing the lyrics and composing the music for his band’s latest album in time for the holidays. I loved all of Trevor’s many faces, but I didn’t want to deal with ‘tortured artist Trevor’ during Christmas and New Year’s. Lucky for me, he wasn’t scheduled to start recording the new album until early next year. He still needed a new guitarist to replace Vin. Alpha Deity is an amazing band, even though they only put out an album every three to five years. I remember the last time they released an album was four years ago, right after Trevor’s thirtieth birthday. It was entitled Fall From Grace. I loved it. The lyrics were really deep. Trevor sang passionately about BDSM on that album, but I never realized just how authentic the storylines in his songs were. I always thought most of the scenarios he sung about were for shock value. Before I met him I never suspected that he lived an alternative lifestyle. When I used to follow his career, through interviews and magazine articles, I knew he was gifted, eccentric and mysterious. I got the same impression when I first met him in person, but his magnetic charisma overshadowed any suspicions I could have possibly had about him being a sexual deviant.
As I bit into a delicious strawberry, I wondered just how deeply vested Trevor was in the BDSM lifestyle. Obviously he was into more than just casual role play, but was he into the lifestyle to the point that it was aberrant? I didn’t know much about BDSM at all. Long ago, when I wasn’t as experienced sexually as I later became, I thought BDSM was a form of deviance and that the people who engaged in it must have some sort of pathological psychological disorder. I used to wonder what kind of person in their right mind would want to be beaten by a mean guy in a leather mask, barking orders at them. But when my co-workers started obsessively talking about BDSM, I became more open-minded about it. It never interested me, but I started to understand how someone could get into it. I now consider it a valid alternative lifestyle. But even in my wildest dreams I never thought I’d be attracted to someone who was a part of that world. Maybe there was a lot about myself that I didn’t yet understand. There was clearly a lot about Trevor that I didn’t know. His song lyrics were typically dark and his music videos were always quite provocative, but I thought that just went with the industrial rock genre. And what was really confusing about Trevor was, even though his art was dark, he had the ability to be warm and gregarious when he wanted to. It was like he could switch different aspects of his personality on and off on a whim. I was intrigued by Trevor’s complexity but sometimes I felt like I didn’t really know him.
I was lost in thought as I finished my breakfast. Perhaps Trevor was right and being in a long-distance relationship wasn’t the best idea. Living so far away from each other was preventing us from really getting to know each other on a deeper level. I really wanted to know all of Trevor’s layers. I shook my head back and forth to clear my thoughts. I refused to let myself get too caught up in figuring out Trevor’s nuances. I had a lot on my plate at work this week, and I had to stay focused, despite the fact that my billionaire rock star boyfriend had just invited me to live an alternative lifestyle with him.
So far I’d done a good job at keeping my head on straight, even amidst having a whirlwind love life. Less than a year ago I was so wrapped up in work I barely had any personal life and the dates that I did go on were lackluster at best. Then all of a sudden, after my interview with Christoff, over the summer my life became like a reality show, only with more romance and slightly less drama. I finally started to feel like I was back in Hollywood again. In my early twenties I lived in L.A. and covered stories for major outlets like TMZ, People, Rolling Stone and Billboard Magazine. And I even had a handful of television appearances with big names like MTV, Extra, and E! Back then I dated a few entertainment industry guys, but never an A-Lister like Trevor. Dating the wrong people during the ignorance of my youth is what caused my career out in L.A. to crash and burn before me. I was forced to leave town and start over here in Chicago. It took over three years, but it seemed like I was finally getting back to where I was before, both in my career and also socially. I was both excited and nervous about where my relationship with Trevor was going, but I wasn’t going to let thoughts about Trevor consume me. I had work to do and goals to accomplish. I grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, and headed out the door for work.
I somehow managed to catch the train before the one I usually take, so I arrived at work fifteen minutes early. I sat down at my desk and logged on to my computer. There was an email from my boss, marked urgent. He told me to come to his office as soon as I got in. Kevin was usually pretty laid back. The only time he ever got upset is if someone missed a deadline or if we were behind schedule as a team. I’ve actually never faced his wrath because I always got everything done on time or early. And he was especially trusting of me because he perceived me as one of the driving forces that kept our magazine going. Many of my colleagues were happy doing stories on popular cover bands, and has-beens that had their day many moons ago, and there is nothing wrong with that. But I got us the stories that got us readers. I nailed several interviews with the hottest up-and-coming musical artists, and I was even been able to sit face-to-face with a few A-Listers, thanks to some of the connec
tions I managed to maintain from L.A. The tone of Kevin’s email made me feel uneasy. He didn’t sound like his usual, relaxed self. I looked over at my phone and saw I had missed voicemails, but I decided to go talk to Kevin first. I didn’t want to make him wait.
When I got to his office the door was open. He immediately stood to greet me. “Giavanna! I’m glad you’re early.”
“Why, what’s going on?”
“Something went wrong. I somehow made a mistake, and now we have a giant hole in our upcoming issue.” Kevin ran his hands through his shoulder-length blond hair. “I knew we were a little short on material this month, but I was certain I had done a good job distributing assignments to fill in some space, but now I’m looking at things, and we’re about three stories short. I can’t put out a half-finished magazine. And we don’t really have time to try to schedule interviews with any artists. You know how backed-up most bands’ schedules are. I don’t think anyone would be available on such short notice. And I don’t even know if there is time to sell additional ad space. Nobody else knows about this, one, because I just figured out, and two, because I’m too embarrassed to tell them that I messed up. But I know I can trust you Giavanna, so I wanted to brainstorm with you on how we can fix this.” Kevin sighed. “What do you think?”
I was honored that my boss trusted me enough to come to me with this crisis, but I was apprehensive that I may not be up for the challenge. Over the past few months he had been giving me more responsibility. I loved it. It made me feel like a very valuable member of the team, but deep inside I was always worried that one day my victory streak would end, and I would no longer be able to meet and exceed Kevin’s expectations. I had a feeling that today might be that day.
“Hmm… we are in quite the time crunch… but, for every problem, there is always a solution. At least, that’s my philosophy.” I was speaking exceptionally slowly to buy myself time to think of a solution by the time I got to end of my sentence, but it didn’t work. I didn’t want him to see me sweat so I drew my shoulders back and held my head high. I knew I had to exude confidence if I wanted him to continue to trust me and give me added responsibility. I stood silently while I gathered my thoughts. “I know this isn’t the answer you’re looking for Kevin, but I need some time to think about how to handle this. I don’t want to come up with some half-baked idea that will put us further behind. May I have some time to come up with some ideas?”
Kevin rubbed his chin. He looked deep in thought. “Yes, that sounds reasonable. How about we meet at lunch?” Kevin closed his eyes, as if to organize his thoughts. “No, scratch that. I already have a lunch meeting scheduled. How about we meet at the end of the day before you go home… meet me here at my office at 5 PM. And come prepared with your best ideas. I’m really counting on you this time. You won’t let me down will you?”
“Of course I won’t.” I flashed a confident grin as I tried to get myself to believe the words coming out of my mouth. I’m pretty creative, so deep inside I knew if I relaxed and gave myself time I would come up with something. I just wasn’t certain if my muse would be inspired in the next eight hours.
“You never do.”
I left Kevin’s office and checked my messages. Two of my messages were from publicists confirming upcoming interviews I had with their clients. Both were filler interviews. I already knew that neither would be a cover story. My last message was from a frantic publicist telling me that the pop star that I was supposed to interview the next day would no longer be able to meet with me, because she just got admitted to rehab. For a few seconds I was flustered. I racked my brain trying to figure out who I could interview to replace that story. Then I realized I could do a piece on the star being admitted to rehab. I quickly called the publicist back to get the details. Fortunately, she gave me everything I was looking for, and I had enough material to write a killer story.
The first half of the day went quickly, and it was already lunchtime. My co-worker, Grace, stopped by my desk to ask if I wanted to join her for lunch. We weren’t particularly close, but she was always nice to me. I usually preferred to eat alone, but I wanted to pick Grace’s brain today. She read almost every BDSM erotica ever published. She was always talking about her latest read but I’d never really paid that much attention. Now I was curious just how much she knew about BDSM and if she could teach me some things so I could impress Trevor when I got home.
Grace leaned against my desk as she waited for me to respond. She looked so sweet and innocent with her bright blue eyes and curly dark hair. I couldn’t believe I was about to lure her into a conversation about BDSM. I felt so devious.
“I’ll be with you in one second Grace. I need to save something.”
“No problem.” I backed up the document I was working on twice — once by emailing it to myself, and once by saving it on my flash drive.
“Alright, I’m ready. I’d be happy to join you for lunch. I actually want to talk to you about something.”
“Oh really, what’s that?”
“I can’t tell you while we’re in the office. Wait until we’re outside.”
“Oh, it must be something interesting.” Grace giggled.
“Interesting? Hmmm… I guess you could say that.” I chuckled as I grabbed my purse. “I’ve been dying to try the new restaurant down the street that serves all organic. Do you care if we go there?”
“That’s fine by me.”
Grace and I talked mostly about work while we waited for our food. She was pretty shy and quiet but she had told me on more than one occasion that I brought out her talkative side. I told her about my upcoming story about the pop artist that just got admitted to rehab. She appreciated that I was going to put a compassionate spin on it, instead of writing it the way the tabloids would. I loved tabloid gossip just as much as anyone, but I was actually a fan of the artist I was covering for this story and I felt bad for her.
“So, enough about work, what is it that you wanted to talk to me about that was too juicy to discuss at the office?”
“Oh yeah, that.” I smiled uncomfortably. I was usually pretty bold but all of a sudden I was embarrassed about talking about sex with a co-worker. None of my colleagues knew I was dating Trevor. I wanted to be taken seriously as an entertainment journalist and I didn’t ever want anyone to think that my success in my career could be attributed to the fact that I date men in the industry. And on top of that I really didn’t want anyone to know I was dating a billionaire. I was certain it would change people’s perception of me. I was trying to figure out how I could ask Grace questions about BDSM, without talking about my personal life. I put a forkful of food in my mouth to buy time. After I chewed more thoroughly than necessary, I took a long sip of water. “Sooo, I wanted to ask you about some of the stuff in those erotica books that you’ve been reading.”
“Really? You’re the one girl at the office who’s never been interested in erotica. I’d be happy to lure you over to the dark side.” Grace’s eyes twinkled. “What do you want to know?”
“I want to know about BDSM. What all does that lifestyle entail? When I think about BDSM all I can imagine are whips and chains and that does not seem erotic to me. But you and all the other girls at the office seem so into it, so I want to know what all the buzz is about.”
“Well I don’t really know about BDSM as a lifestyle — all I know is the books are really hot.”
“Hmm… that’s interesting. So you don’t do BDSM in real life, you just like to read about it?”
“Exactly.”
“Well what attracts you to the books?”
“I don’t know.” Grace shrugged. “I guess…” Grace thought for a moment. “I guess I like them because they are naughty. BDSM is kind of taboo. People aren’t supposed to be tied up and spanked. I like it because you’re not supposed to like it.” Grace looked down. “I’ve always been such a good girl all my life, and reading those books kind of gives me the opportunity to be bad. Does that make sense?” Grace looked u
p at me.
“Yeah, it does.” I nodded.
“Nobody has really ever asked me why I like to read what I read, so I never thought about it. But now that I’ve said it out loud, it makes sense to me too. Why are you suddenly so interested in BDSM?” Grace’s eyes penetrated me. I looked away so she couldn’t read my expression.
“No reason really, it just seems like it’s gaining popularity, and I didn’t want to be out of the loop.”
“I don’t think BDSM is really all that popular.” Grace leaned in close and lowered her voice. “Don’t tell anyone this, but lately since I’ve been reading so much about it, I’ve really wanted to try some BDSM stuff, but I don’t really know how to ask for it. Guys in the erotica books just don’t seem to exist in real life. In the erotica stories there are all these breathtaking alpha males who have no problem taking charge, bending a girl over and spanking her. I’ve never met anyone like that in real life. Have you?”
Part of me empathized with Grace. Before I started dating rock stars I could never find a man who was alpha enough to take charge and let me to be a lady. I was always used to being the alpha in every situation, that is until I met Christoff. He was the first man that was masculine enough to allow me be feminine. Same with Trevor — he’s so manly and on-top of things, in every aspect of our relationship, and last night he was super assertive in the bedroom. My muscles clenched as I remembered how it felt to have Trevor tie me up and please me beyond belief. I wished that I could tell Grace that the type of man she’s looking for does exist in real life, but I didn’t want to expose all of my personal business so I decided to fib a little.
“No. Men like that don’t exist.” I laughed. “That’s why it’s fiction.”
“Exactly.” Grace smiled. “Hey if you ever want any book recommendations I’d be happy to give you some suggestions.”
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