Business Secrets

by Emma York

  “Because you pay me a decent amount?” she replied, dumping the files on her desk. “I arranged for Miss Harper to collect her phone by the way.”

  “Good,” I said, pulling out mine from my pocket. I had two hours before she arrived. That gave me time for one last roll of the dice. Either she would read my message and obey the instructions within. Or she wouldn’t.

  Fate would decide what happened next.

  If she obeyed, I’d be in the office waiting. If she ignored it, then so be it.

  I didn’t send the message until I was sure she was on her way. I didn’t want her to have time to discuss it with anyone. I wanted her to decide quickly. That was the only way to be sure.

  I didn’t know if I was doing the right thing. I had spent so long telling myself to ignore her, to shut my feelings down, but it hadn’t worked.

  This gave her a choice. I knew she wanted to submit. She had proved that with everything she’d done. All doubt was gone, the confusion brought on by the drink had vanished. She wanted to submit but she was afraid at the same time. That was why she’d run.

  It didn’t explain the photo or the email but that was a separate thing. If she obeyed what was in the message I’d just sent then I could punish her for that decision, persuade her that it might be in her interests to drop the story about me, especially if running it meant I’d share with the world what she’d done to get it in the first place.

  “I want her,” I said out loud, hitting send.

  “Sorry?” Sally called through. “Did you say something?”

  That was when I realised the door was still propped open. “Nothing important,” I said, getting up and removing the chair, letting it swing shut. Never in my life had I been one to trust to fate. I hadn’t reached the top of the business world by leaving the choices to fate. I had made tough decisions but I’d always been the one to make them. This was the first time a decision was out of my hands and I could do nothing to influence it. I already knew she wasn’t after my money, I could tell that from a mile off.

  But I wanted her. Despite her running, despite finding out the truth about her. I wanted her. I had tried to shut my feelings down but it hadn’t worked.

  Did she know she had all the power in her hands? Just how much power she had?

  Twenty minutes until she was due to arrive. She would either walk in, take the phone, then leave. Or she would obey the instructions. I could only wait.

  I sat back in my chair. The doubts were gone. The fear was gone. I was calm. I could do nothing but wait and I would wait. Then I would see. Wait and see.

  I picked up the newspaper and began to read but all I thought about was her. I wanted to tell her she didn’t have to be afraid but she had to make the first step. She had to admit who she really was. I already knew who I was. I was a fucked up son of a bitch but I was something else too. I was patient.

  SEVENTEEN - ROSA

  I was halfway there when the message came through. I pulled out the phone and looked at the screen. The message was sent as a list.

  Go into Matteo’s (I have an account there, you will not need to pay).

  Select a top through which your chest can be seen.

  Select a skirt that is slit to the hip. Bring both to the office.

  Enter the changing room and change into them. Leave your bra and panties behind. Message me when you are changed.

  I read it through quickly, then I read it again. I turned the phone over in my hand, as if I was expecting something to be written on the back. ‘Fooled you,’ something like that. Then I read the message again.

  I kept looking at it, trying to understand it. He was acting as if I hadn’t run, as if nothing had changed between us.

  Okay, I told myself. Let’s think this through.

  Why has he sent that?

  Because he wants me to follow his instructions.

  But why?

  Because you haven’t finished your training yet.

  Are you going to do it?

  Of course not.

  Are you sure?

  I looked up. We were almost there. Matteo’s was a clothes shop two streets from his office. It had only been open six months but there’d been a big deal made of it, the first time the designer had opened a branch outside Paris and he’d picked York. I had to make a decision.

  Would he give me the phone if I went to the office and demanded it? I could call the police and they’d make him do it.

  I read the message again and as I did so, my heart started to race, picturing myself wearing the things he’d told me to buy.

  It was as if I’d been asleep and all of a sudden, I was waking up, like from a dream where I wasn’t myself. This was who I was. The realisation was sudden, hitting me hard enough to make me wince. I wanted to obey him. I wanted to please him. I wanted to do anything to make him happy. Not just that, the exhibitionist in me was skipping into the light, bursting with joy.

  You’re in for a hell of a ride, I told it. I had no idea what he was going to make me do once I was done but I got the feeling it would be humiliating, embarrassing, shocking, and I would love every minute of it.

  “I’ll walk from here,” I said to the taxi driver, handing over one of my few remaining banknotes before pushing open the door. I thought about the last time I’d said that. I’d climbed out of a cab and run straight into Jamie Spencer, flashing him my panties on our first encounter. I got the feeling I was about to flash him much more than my panties.

  Did this mean he’d forgiven me for running? That he still wanted me? I stood on the street for a moment, looking out at the water under the bridge. Things were very different to last time I was here but once again I had a choice to make and no one else could make it for me.

  Get my phone and go home. Forget about him. Find another job somewhere. And then what? Carry on with my ordinary life, no fear, no anxiety about submitting to a Dom, being Maggie to his James.

  What was the alternative? It was do something humiliating because he told me. It was to keep doing that for as long as he could think of things for me to do. It was to obey him to please him. It was to be excited and terrified and not know what was around the next corner.

  Safe or dangerous. Take a risk or take a ride home. Two options. I picked up two tiny pieces of gravel. Whichever one hit the river first, I’d obey.

  Left hand, go home. Right hand, do as he commanded.

  I dropped the gravel into the water, turning away and heading for the clothes shop without looking back. I never knew which one hit first. I didn’t care.

  Once I got to Matteo’s, I worked my way towards the tops. There was lace, there was silk, there was satin and velvet and there was the perfect top.

  It was ostensibly a white shirt and was clearly designed to go over something else. The fabric was thin enough to see through close up but from afar it looked perfectly reasonable. I draped it over my arm, already scanning the racks for a suitable skirt. It took a couple of minutes but then I found it, pure white, matching the top, slit to the hip, calf length on me. I just hoped they’d fit. It wasn’t like he had lots of size options.

  I undressed quickly, my hands shaking as I did so. In a couple of minutes, I was naked, looking at my body in the mirror. What did he see in that?

  It didn’t matter. I shook my head, turning away and slipping on the shirt, buttoning it up. Without a bra underneath, the shape of my boobs were clearly visible as was the darkness of the skin around my nipples, the buds themselves jutting outwards. I was getting turned on just looking down, thinking of all those eyes on me when I walked to his office.

  The skirt fitted perfectly and as long as I didn’t stretch my legs too far apart, I remained respectable. Too long a stride or too strong a gust of wind and it would be a whole other story.

  “How will you be paying?” the shop assistant asked as I pulled back the curtain and emerged. Had they been waiting to pounce on me the whole time? Did I look like a potential shoplifter?

  “It’s to go o
n Mr Spencer’s account.”

  “Ah, Miss Harper, you should have said. Can I get you anything?” A slight glance down at my chest, enough to make me take a sharp intake of breath, nerves washing over me.

  “No, thanks, I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

  I headed through the shop, stopping outside. There was a slight breeze and knowing that I only had to flick my hand to flash the world was overwhelmingly exciting. It was like the fear inside me didn’t know whether to turn into joy or not so just kept my adrenaline pumping while it made its mind up. You should go back in, I thought. You should change. You should go home. Someone will yell at you.

  I’ve done as you asked.

  He replied seconds later.

  Stand outside my building for five minutes. Arms behind your back. Interact with no one.

  Sit on the steps for thirty seconds with your legs apart.

  Then you may collect your phone.

  I walked slowly towards his office, feeling as if the entire world was looking at me. I kept my face neutral, ignoring the glances at my chest that only served to make my nipples ache and throb with desire. It was knowing they would look and want to touch but could not, that was what did it the most for me. Touching was reserved for him.

  I took small steps, trying to remain calm, hoping the breeze would grow no stronger. Only one gust panicked me. It came as I reached the far side of the bridge and took my by surprise. As it hit, my dress billowed sideways and for one moment, there was nothing I could do. A group of tourists were walking towards me and they all looked down at the same moment. By the time they worked out what they’d just seen, I was already past them, holding the dress down, making my way towards the office.

  I ascended the steps to the front door but didn’t go in. Instead, I stopped and turned, standing to one side, my arms behind me, my fingers churning together out of sight.

  Most people were too busy to even notice me. The few who did looked away quickly. Each time, my heart would thud as I waited, wondering who might tell me to leave, call the police on me. But why would they do that? All that could be said was that my top was a little thin, was that even a crime?

  He knew what he was doing. From where I was, I could see the clock on the side of the office building on the far side of the road. One minute passed. Then two.

  I did my best to keep my breathing under control, making sure not to meet anyone’s eye. I was also trying not to think about what I was about to do.

  Would he know if I didn’t obey? Somehow, that didn’t matter. He had told me to do it so I was going to do it. This time I wasn’t going to let fear control me. I was going to control it. I was going to be the person I was meant to be.

  As the last minute ticked by, I breathed a sigh of relief. Beyond a few muttered words, no one had approached me and I’d maybe given a few people reason to smile while they were buried in paperwork.

  Ten seconds left. Five. Done.

  I looked down at the steps. Could I do it? Should I do it?

  Before I answered myself, I was walking forwards, sitting on the second to top step.

  It was twenty past twelve. Going to the clothes shop and back meant I wasn’t on time for the meeting with him but it also meant a lot of people were on their lunch breaks. From where I sat, I could see people on benches over by the river. In the windows of the far office, there was the glare of computer screens, meetings taking place, the wheels of industry turning.

  I took a deep breath and then I did it. I pushed my knees apart, the dress slipping off my leg, leaving my thighs to catch the sunlight.

  I held my breath. Time slowed to a halt. I was flashing my most intimate place to the entire world. It went against all the rules. This wasn’t allowed. This was definitely not what good girls did. I felt my cheeks burning red with shame, my toes curling as I tried to keep calm, tried not to move, counted down the seconds in my head.

  People saw. Of course they saw. Office workers doing double takes, couples on romantic breaks glancing and looking away in embarrassment, as if they were the ones doing the shameful thing, spying on me. Others openly stared. Ten seconds to go. I still hadn’t taken a breath and I was forced to do so, gasping and then filling my chest with air. My body tingled as the eyes continued to glance my way but then as the seconds faded, I stood up and then it was over. Like it had never happened.

  I felt like punching the air. I’d done it. I’d obeyed his instructions. I hadn’t run. I’d done something I couldn’t take back. So many people had seen me and I was so turned on, I could hardly walk.

  I made my way inside, walking over to the lift which was open ready for me. The attendant gave me a brief nod as the door closed. Did she know? She looked down at the last moment but I just smiled. I didn’t care what she thought. I cared what he thought.

  EIGHTEEN - JAMIE

  “Come in,” I said.

  The door opened and there she was.

  “You did well,” I said, my voice stern.

  She went to speak but I held up my hand, stopping her in her tracks. “But you’re late.”

  She didn’t know I’d been watching her, that I’d set up a camera in the opposite building. It wasn’t for recording, just sending to my computer. I had hired out a room and had one of my people set it up, ready in case my dreams came true.

  They did.

  I didn’t want to record it. I didn’t want the moment to exist outside itself. I wanted to savour every second.

  There she appeared, walking up the steps not long after twelve. She looked like she was going to walk inside. She was confident, that slump of the shoulders long gone.

  She didn’t enter. Instead, she turned, facing the camera. From my seat I could see she had chosen the perfect outfit. The breeze made her skirt flutter, revealing a flash of thigh. The footage was clear enough to see that but little more. Hitting a button on my keyboard made the camera zoom and then I was hard as rock under the desk, seeing her nipples clearly visible through the thin fabric of her top, almost see through in the light.

  She wasn’t smiling but she was there. I watched her for the entire five minutes, not entirely sure if I was breathing. I heard nothing. I saw only her, blurs of movement around her, the people passing by, getting glimpses of what was soon to be mine for good. I wasn’t going to let her get away this time.

  I was so happy that she had decided to do it. Watching the screen before she arrived, I had no idea until the last second what she would do. She had pleased me. She would be rewarded for that. But she was late. She would be punished for that.

  It was hard to think of punishment when she moved down to the steps and sat, her legs apart, her perfect pussy on display in the light. All I could think about then was fucking her.

  She looked so confident but nervous at the same time, as if it was an illusion, one foul word and the spell would break, she would run again.

  The thirty seconds were over all too quickly and the time it took her to reach the office gave me time to compose myself, ready for her appearance.

  “Bend over the desk,” I said, getting slowly to my feet. “You left without my permission. You returned late. You were bad.”

  “I’m sorry,” she muttered as she crossed the floor to the desk. She bent over it while I walked around to her. “I-”

  “Silence.” I wasn’t shouting but my voice was enough to stop her sentence in the middle. “I want no sound from you until I allow it.”

  Taking hold of her skirt, I slid the two sides apart, exposing her ass, making use of the slit to my advantage. It looked as good as last time I saw it, better still for knowing what I was going to do. I wasn’t going to send her away this time, I wasn’t going to try and control myself, I was just going to do what I should have done when I first met her.

  I raised my hand, doing the thing I thought I might never get to do again, bringing it down to smack down on that perfect ass, feeling the sting in my palm, loving that sound, that sound I would never tire of, not in a million years. />
  She didn’t cry out. She was good enough to obey my order to keep quiet. She did gasp, her body jolting in place but then she lowered herself, pushing her hips further back, wriggling slightly from side to side as if to taunt me.

  I spanked her again, this time hitting lower down, just above her thighs, not as hard as before but knowing the layout of her nerves, that it would sting just as much as the previous blow.

  I counted every spank. Twelve in total, each one making her ass more red. When I was done, her skin felt hot to the touch. I allowed my fingers to trail lower as I felt the softness, the warmth, the need that was coming off her in waves. My cock responded to that need, starting to throb and ache in my trousers.

  I pulled it out, standing behind her, my hand between her legs, feeling how wet she was.

  I shoved her knees roughly apart, guiding the tip of me to her entrance a second later. Stroking it in tiny circles, I teased her, knowing how hard she was finding keeping her mouth shut, her hand clamped over it, almost falling forwards.

  I grabbed her hips, thrusting forwards in the same moment, going as if to dive into her but stopping just an inch inside. She was soaking wet, gripping me just right, throbbing like I was, needing this as much as me.

  “I don’t want to train you to be a submissive,” I said, rocking back and forth in her, moving slightly deeper with each motion. “I want to train you to be my submissive. Will you let me?”

  I froze in place, waiting for her answer.

  “Yes,” she moaned and as soon as she said it, I slid all the way into her, my hips pressing into her ass, my cock as far into her pussy as it could go, making little pulsing movements, going that bit further as she pushed back against me.

  “Make yourself come,” I said, holding still.