by Anna del Mar
“Luz women wear Vera,” my mother spat. “We don’t wear cheap upstarts or trendy fads. Get to New York. Today. Vera will fit you into her schedule. Surely she can find something appropriate for you to wear even if it’s on short notice.”
“But—”
“Have a nice trip,” my mother said before she hung up.
The dial tone rang in my ear. I didn’t even get the time to remind my mother about our conversation last month. I swear she suffered from a case of selective amnesia. Thirty-two years of this could drive a girl nuts. Mother would be livid with me if I didn’t wear Vera. What was I going to do?
The ruler clanked against something hard. Noah’s gift. I could see it now. I pushed it with the tip of the ruler and rolled it my way, until I was able to grab the little ring and pull it out from under the credenza.
“Hi, you,” I said to my reflection on the golden surface.
With a groan, I got to my feet and went to the bathroom, where I washed my little friend thoroughly with soap and hot water.
“What do you think?” I declared myself officially nuts, since I was talking to a fancy vibrator. “Should I call Vera and make an appointment?” It would avoid a whole lot of grief. If Mother was happy, then the world was happy.
But I wouldn’t be happy. In fact, I’d be mad at myself. I’d have to change my schedule to fit in a trip to New York, maybe even miss my weekend with Noah. No way. I wasn’t going to cancel him. I’d been trying very hard to make my own way and every time I caved to my mother, I lost whatever little respect I’d earned for myself.
The temptation to avoid trouble was huge. Mother went out of her way to make things hard when she was mad. But I was an adult. I had dreams and aspirations of my own. As I dried and polished Noah’s gift, I made a decision. I would stand my ground.
It was a good decision and it deserved a reward. I’d never been self-indulgent, but then again, I’d never owned a top-of-the-line customized vibrator in the guise of a Fabergé egg. I retrieved my cell from my desk, locked the bathroom door and sat on the lidded commode. The vibrator’s instructions came with a product code, which I used to connect with the app and add a user to the state-of-the-art remote control. Ha. Noah wasn’t the only techno-savvy one around here.
I tested the lowest setting against my clit. Nice.
Note to blog: modern technology is your friend.
In the back of mind, I knew I could be breaking one of Noah’s rules, but hell, I didn’t need much. I was perfectly happy with the smooth end vibrating over and around my clit. I leaned my head against the wall, closed my eyes and started to daydream. What Noah didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him.
* * *
Friday was the day from hell. It started with a call from Annette Collins, who’d been texting and emailing me at least ten times daily. I would’ve never agreed to do this if I’d known she was going to be so pushy. She wanted to know how the article was coming along. Did I have a draft to show her? I had to tiptoe around the fact that I hadn’t even started to write it yet. Then she suggested I should add a few photos to the feature, things that the readers might find intriguing. Sure. Pictures. Right.
If Annette’s full-court press wasn’t enough, one of the foundation’s evaluation teams got stuck in China on the way to Nepal and I had to pull strings to get them through. By the time I got to the Mayflower, I was running late, something my mother let me know with a stern tilt of her eyebrows.
Ed Durant was one of the world’s wealthiest men, a vital middle ager with an eye for the ladies. That he was married to a famous model and was the father of seven children made no difference. He knew how to reel in his catches. He was also charming, cosmopolitan, well connected and supremely entertaining, which was why Mother adored him. A longish mane of artfully gelled salt-and-pepper curls balanced a high forehead. His Italian tailor was a master at streamlining what otherwise could’ve been interpreted as a thickset silhouette.
He greeted me with the smile that iced my spine as he planted a pair of effusive kisses on my cheeks. Then he pulled me down to sit next to him as if we were intimate friends. The overpowering scent of his flowery cologne made me gag. Every time he leaned into my space, I had to hold my breath and pray I wouldn’t throw up on his lap. To top it all, he was in the mood to play games, hinting at a huge donation and then retreating with evasive maneuvers. He bought us drinks, courted my mother in overt provocation and teased me with hints of a possible donation.
Between him and my mother, my getaway kept getting postponed. I was almost afraid to look at the clock. By the time I made my exit, Durant had checkmated me to a follow-up meeting and my mother was marginally appeased.
My worst problem? I was running hours late. I dived into my car and launched down the highway like a NASCAR driver, but it was no good. Friday afternoon traffic was horrendous and, by the time I made it to Reedville, the last ferry to Avalon was a lumbering shadow stirring the waters as it chugged toward the horizon.
I dropped my bags on the dock and groaned aloud. What was I going to do now? Frustration churned in my stomach. I was so disappointed. My heels clanked on the boards as I paced the pier, racking my brain for options. My cell rang.
“It sucks,” I said as soon as I accepted the call, “but I missed the ferry.”
“I know.” Noah’s voice reminded me of glowing hot metal. “It was very careless of you.”
How could he know? Ah, yes, GPS, I remembered.
“I’m sorry.” I felt like crying. “I won’t be able to get over there until tomorrow.”
“Negative,” he said. “I’ve made arrangements for a private transport for you.”
The news cheered me considerably. I did a little dance on the dock. I was going to Avalon after all, to see Noah. He directed me to one of the private piers, where a fishing charter waited for me, the Marlin Monroe. I laughed at the name. The Marlin Monroe and her captain tore into the choppy bay and got me to Avalon. It was late, after nine o’clock when I greeted Martha on the dock and boarded her cab. I was exhausted, but at least I’d made it.
“Long week?” Martha asked in her brogue as she revved up the old engine.
“Endless,” I said on an exhale. “How are the repairs on the house going?”
“Moving right along.” Martha launched into a detailed account of the work being done.
The cab creaked and whined its way across the bridges that spanned the tidal creeks and up Avalon’s three ridges. Noah’s house stood on the highest point of the island. My heart sped up when I caught sight of the shingled cottage. As the car pulled up to the gravel driveway, the windows glowed with warm light.
Martha wouldn’t take my money for the cab fare. She flashed her gap-toothed smile. “Noah insisted I put it on his tab. I smell smitten guy in the air.”
“No way,” I said, gathering my purse, bag and laptop case from the backseat.
“We’re taking wagers that you two will be an item before the end of the year. Why else would you be coming back so soon if not for that?”
“We’re working on a project together.” It was kind of, sort of true.
“A project. Sure.” She tittered. “Whatever you say. Have a nice project.”
The cab pulled away, tires crunching on gravel. Nosy islander. I sure hoped she kept her mouth shut. I went up to the deck and hesitated at the door. I wondered what came next.
I took a deep breath and opened the door. The house was softly illuminated but quiet. I was a little disappointed that Noah was not waiting for me. Instead, a short list of instructions was posted on a sheet of paper taped to the mirror on the wall.
I read through the list. Sentence after sentence, the blood drained from my veins. And then all that blood came back like a tidal wave to ignite the blush on my face. I muttered to myself, “You wanted this.”
And now it was
time to go after what I wanted.
My instructions were rather simple. I turned off my business cell and put it away for the weekend. I laid down the three items I’d bought at the sex shop on the entry hall table. Then I shed my clothing. Standing right there in the foyer, I took off my coat and dress. I considered keeping on my undergarments, but the instructions were precise. Wear nothing except your shoes. So I took off my panties and bra and hung them on the coatrack next to Noah’s coats. Then it was time for the really hard part.
For a whole thirty seconds, my knees refused to bend. When I finally made it to the floor, the scrolled patterns on the doormat bristled against my knees. As per the instructions, I knelt cupping one breast in each hand, body upright, back straight, shoulders squared, knees braced apart at either side of the Welcome Home inscription on the doormat.
Note to blog: this submission stuff? It isn’t for everybody.
The click of a door opening in the lower level announced that a living organism inhabited the silent house. At last. Noah was coming. A frisson of anticipation tickled my sex. Beyond the chill in the foyer, my nipples tightened and my heart thumped in my ears. I straightened on my knees and pushed up my breasts. Did I look all right?
I kept my eyes on the floor as instructed, but I sensed Noah’s presence as it sucked away all the air in the room. Time lengthened into an eternity. My thighs protested the uncomfortable pose. My knees smarted on the mat. The feel of Noah’s gaze raking over my body pebbled my skin. I shivered under his scrutiny, struggling to keep it together.
His shoes and the cuffs of his pants appeared briefly in my field of vision. Then they were gone, as he circled around me. I gasped when his hands landed on my nape, large and scalding. They slid down my spine, generating a charge that jolted through my body and rattled my already weak knees.
Noah’s hands claimed my glutes, cupped the halves of my ass and kneaded them with strong fingers. I flinched when he tested my mood by running his fingertips along my pussy. I was already wet and slick as the island’s marshes. Worse, I had to stay still through the torture when all I wanted to do was move against his hand.
The inspection ended as abruptly as it began. I wanted to look at his face, to read his expressions. Instead, I kept my eyes low. When his voice finally came, it was raw and raspy, primal in a way that made the fine hairs of my body stand up with an electric thrill.
“You look hot kneeling like that,” he said. “I’m extremely pleased with you.”
I dared to look up at him. “Then you’re not mad at me, for being late?”
“I’m not mad.” His face was set on the blank expression I couldn’t figure out. “I’m disappointed at your lack of discipline and your choice of priorities.”
“But I texted you and I couldn’t walk away from a huge donation...”
“No buts, Clara.” His jaw set at a sharp angle. “No excuses. I expect you to take responsibility for your actions. You missed the ferry. You need to face the consequences.”
My heart skipped a beat. “What consequences?”
“The consequences of your actions,” he said as though it should be obvious to me. “However I choose to discipline you.”
Discipline me?
“I’m more into incentives,” I mumbled. “You know, the idea that you catch more flies with honey and that sort of thing?”
He totally ignored my comment. “Ask me for it.”
“What?”
“Ask me for discipline,” he repeated. “Put your fate in my hands and trust that I’ll find a way to teach you priorities, punctuality and consideration.”
Was he serious? He wanted me to ask him to discipline me?
“Noah, I’m not sure you’re being reasonable here,” I said. “I made a huge effort to make it on time and...”
“See?” He shook his head. “Unless you’re prepared to a, give up control and b, make us your priority, you’ve got no business trying submission. It just doesn’t work that way.” He pulled the cell out of his pocket. “Should I call Martha?”
“No.” My heart lunged to my throat. “I don’t...want to leave...yet.”
“Then do what it takes, set aside your monumental pride and face the consequences.”
I had trouble swallowing. “I’m...prepared to...to do all that. I can learn. I swear. But is discipline really necessary?”
His black eyes gleamed. “I could try to explain to you why, but experience is the best teacher.”
He wasn’t going to let me off the hook. I took in a shuddering breath. My hands felt clammy beneath the weight of my breasts. I pressed my lips together and moistened my lips.
“Okay,” I mumbled nervously. “I’m...um...really sorry about being late today. It won’t happen again.”
His eyebrows lifted on his forehead. “And?”
“And if you need to...um...discipline me to get over it, then I guess you can do it.”
He crossed his arms, looked down on me and cocked an eyebrow. “Try again.”
He was making this very difficult for me. I let out an exasperated breath. “Noah, I’m sorry. Please discipline me so I can learn my lesson?”
“Better,” he said, “but you’re not being very sincere.”
“Just do it.” I glowered up at him.
“At least that was an honest attempt.” He cracked a smile, then quickly sobered up and pointed to the floor as he opened a drawer and rummaged through it. “Eyes on the ground.”
Patience came sparingly to me, and all this waiting irked me to no end. He was taking a long time. My nose tickled. I had an urge to scratch. I sneaked in a quick rub. He flashed me a ribbing glance.
“Stop fidgeting,” he said. “Have some pride.”
I took a deep breath and tried for stillness, but neither silence nor tranquility were natural states for me. I bristled inside. Why was I doing this? The blog? RelevantSex.com? The sex. It had to be the sex.
Eventually, Noah came to crouch behind me. “You’ll make us your priority.” He said as he fit a pair of cuffs on my wrists, crossed my arms behind my back, gathered my hands and, with a quiet click, fastened my wrists together. “You’ll respect us by being punctual. You’ll rely on me as surely as one day I may be able to rely on you. To teach you that, this weekend you will not be allowed the use of your hands, except during breaks.”
Was he serious?
I craned my neck and considered the cuffs. They were large, made of leather, wide but comfortable and with a fast-release feature. And yet panic bubbled in my throat and sharpened my voice.
“Noah?”
“Trust me, princess.” He planted a kiss on the top of my head and helped me to my feet. “You’re going to be fine. Now that we’ve taken care of this business, we can go on with our evening.”
He parked me in front of the mirror, something I would’ve preferred to avoid, on account of my total nakedness.
“Back straight.” His warm hand pressed over my lower back. “Show me those kick-ass breasts of yours.”
I blushed. He thought my breasts were kick-ass? I stared at the mirror. They did hang nicely when I stood very straight...
“Pick one.” He waved his hand over the three items I’d bought at the sex shop. “Which one would you like me to open today?”
I hesitated. “Um...the leash?”
“I was hoping you’d say that.” He smiled. “For each item you choose, I get to choose a complimentary one.” He opened the drawer, withdrew a packet and showed it to me. “What’s a leash without a collar?”
I stared at the collar that Noah fitted around my neck, unable to sift through the emotions jarring my knees. The collar was a black leather band, about two inches thick and encrusted with a row of small brilliant stones. It had a round metal tag at the front that fell right below the hollow of my neck. I s
quinted at the engraved medal. Princess, the large inscription read, and below it, in smaller letters, Property of Noah Blake.
Noah finished fastening the collar and put his arms around me. “What is it?”
“I...um... Isn’t this a little...demeaning?”
“Demeaning?” he said. “How?”
“It’s like I’m your pet or something.”
“When we’re together like this, you can be my pet if we want.” He kissed my ear and worked his way down my neck. “It’s about your fantasies, remember? And about mine too.”
His lips on my skin had me tingling all over. A shiver tickled my belly and got my sex churning. My nipples contracted until they ached. The man and the woman in the mirror made a striking pair—he, fully dressed, with his arms around her waist, and she, totally naked and wearing his collar around her neck.
His stare met mine in the mirror. “Are we good?”
“We’re good.”
He kissed my shoulder. “It looks amazing on you.”
“Why a collar?” I asked.
“Why submission?” he countered.
I grumbled. “Noah...”
He let out a sigh. “I bought a collar because you bought one of these.” He clipped the leash to the collar. “I thought you’d find the combination...exciting.” He came around and pulled on the leash until we were nose to nose. His lips hovered very close to mine. “Am I right?”
I lowered my eyelids, face burning with a rush of heat.
“Let’s find out.” He tried to fit his hand between my legs. “Do you remember how I want you to stand?”
I inched my heels apart.
“Good girl,” he murmured against my mouth as he slid his knuckle in my slit.
I threw my head back and shut my eyes, surrendering to his amazing touch.
“You like being on a leash all right,” he whispered while he fondled me. “You like the collar too. And your little cunt.” He deepened his reach. “Fuck, Clara, without any hair down here, it feels really good and slippery, nothing but fuckable surface.”