by Alyssa Clark
There was a moment of silence and I had to check to make sure she hadn’t hung up on me. I hoped curiosity would work in my favor, that’s what I was betting on from the moment I first decided to do this. I never really gambled before and I didn’t have an alternative plan if this didn’t work. I didn’t know what she would do after I called her, if she would use my call as evidence and reason to file for divorce ... which was something that wouldn’t end well for me.
“When shall we meet,” she said at last. “Hopefully it won’t be at one of these dingy fast food places that people like you frequent.”
I didn’t let the jab bother me, but I decided to treat her to a favorite restaurant of mine, one I was sure she would be familiar with. It was a five-star place on the upper end of town, a place where I was sure Mr. Franklin would take her or her high-class friends would meet for brunch.
I didn’t have friends, but if I did, I would meet them there for brunch. I ate out often and I was always alone when I did. I had taken it with a grain of salt, but now I suddenly felt lonely.
Good or bad, I was looking forward to meeting Linda. I craved it about as much as I craved Matt. Just without the sexual overtones.
I made sure that I made a professional impression, going for a subtle look with my makeup and an outfit that made it look like I belonged uptown. Like I wasn’t the ‘other’ woman taking advantage of her husband. It was a picture that I tried to paint.
But as I approached her, knowing without a doubt that the woman in her late forties to early fifties seated by the fountain had to be her, I saw those crystal blue eyes narrow. There were light wrinkles on her face, but it didn’t take away from her classic beauty. Her hair was pulled back in a chignon that did nothing but accentuate her delicate features. I was struck because she truly was a beautiful woman.
Why wouldn’t he get her to take my place?
“Linda Franklin?” I asked, just to be sure.
She stood and I thought for a moment that she would offer me her hand, so I went to offer her my own. I didn’t expect with the fine dining restaurant that was fairly full at lunchtime that she would do something that would draw attention to us in such a way. Apparently, a full restaurant didn’t keep her from slapping me.
I couldn’t help but analyze the sting, it was light, and there was no throb to it. She didn’t hit me hard. I doubt that there would even be a mark on my face. The only possible redness would be the uncontrolled flush of embarrassment.
“I am,” I straightened as best as I could given that all eyes were now on us both. “Going to take that as a yes,” I took a breath and offered her my hand again. “I am Angela Winters, it is a pleasure to meet you.”
My reaction ruffled her, but she took my hand and shook it. There was a begrudged look on her face, “Why did you want to meet with me? Haven’t you done enough damage?”
I raised a hand to my face to tap the cheek she had struck, “I have done no damage that I am aware of. You, also, did not put enough force behind that. Shall we sit, so we don’t have the complete attention of the entire restaurant?”
She looked ready to argue, but with a dignified huff, she went back to her seat. She sat down like she hadn’t struck me and straightened herself like she was used to having the attention of a room. I didn’t know if she was an actress or an heiress or maybe she had been someone that led a boardroom. I didn’t know anything about her, and I wanted to.
I sat down in front of her and picked up a menu, I appeared nonchalant for the people watching curiously. “Shall we pretend that didn’t happen?”
“And save face for who?”
“It doesn’t bother me that you slapped me,” I told her honestly as I began to leaf through it. “It was unexpected,” I admitted. I knew she would be angry, but I didn’t think she would be angry enough to hit me. It gave me hope that this might work. “I can’t begin to explain to you how happy it made me that you did,” I gave her my brightest smile. “Can I recommend the tenderloin? It is divine.”
“I prefer salads for lunch,” her voice was quiet when I looked at her I saw her confusion, it made her look so much younger. “Anything heavier feels as if it weighs me down for the rest of the day.”
“I suppose you have a point,” it disappointed me that she’d say that. Now I felt obligated to have a salad, too. I was hoping for something more substantial since I was paying for this.
“Could you get to yours?”
A waiter came over, eyeing us cautiously. He filled our water glasses and asked if we would like wine with our lunch. I allowed Linda to make her selection and opted for just water. Once he was gone I made a show of looking at my menu, “I am not trying to take your husband from you. I do not want him.” I glanced up at her, “I have not slept with him.”
She started to look relieved before she thought better of it, she leaned back in her seat and leveled a skeptical glare at me. “If that’s the case why is he sending you so much money. I know you are not an illegitimate daughter. So please, do explain your relationship with my husband.”
“I would like to show you,” I paused to take a sip of my water. “It would be so much easier,” then I sighed and recalled the first meeting I had with Matt. It would be easier to show her, but then it could also fail and make this a bigger disaster than it needed to be. “Though, I do suppose some explanation is necessary,” I sat my menu aside and gave the room a cursory glance. It looked as if we had lost the attention of the other diners. “I am a Domme,” I brought my attention back to her, looking to see if there was any recognition on her expression.
“A domme?” her well-defined brows went up, and I felt disappointment.
She didn’t know what it was. “Do you know what a dominant is?” She put her own menu aside and shook her head. “A dominant is a person that controls another person, called a submissive. Allen,” I said, it felt strange using his first name. “Pays me to dominate him.”
I watched her expression, waiting to see if she would get angry or if the direct way I said it would embarrass her. I didn’t get the reaction I expected, instead of anger or embarrassment I got confusion. “What do you mean?”
This gave me hope.
The waiter interrupted the track of our conversation long enough to get our orders. She immediately recovered from the line of our conversation and was the picture of refinement. I wondered if she had it in her to dominate her husband. I used the moment to eye her, trying to imagine how she would look in my playroom. Suddenly I wanted to take her to my office and show her everything. I wanted her to understand every detail of it.
“The best way,” I started. “Would be to show you.”
She looked intrigued. I wasn’t the other woman anymore. She leaned forward, “Why? Why even confront me with this? I don’t understand it.”
I saw vulnerability looking back at me. I couldn’t help myself, “If you thought he was cheating on you with me, why are you still with him?” It wasn’t something I could fathom. I didn’t think I could handle the betrayal and stick around while it continued.
Linda gave a glance at the closest table, it didn’t appear that they were listening, but sometimes you never knew. When she spoke her voice was low, “I signed a prenuptial agreement. If I were to leave him, I would gain nothing from this marriage. I have been married to him for more than thirty years. After all this time…” she trailed off and looked down at the elaborate table setting. The embroidered napkins seemed to be all too interesting. “I don’t know that I could make it on my own in the world without him.”
Something boiled in my stomach. There was one thing I hated about men was their ability to make a woman forget that she had two strong feet that she could stand on her own with. “You aren’t trapped,” I said evenly, trying to keep my temper. “If you wanted to walk away, it's warranted. I know nothing about legal battles where prenups are concerned, but you aren’t required to stay with Mr. Franklin because of it.”
“It’s kind of you to support me, eve
n after I struck you,” she regained her dignified air. “But it's not necessary considering I still do not know what you are to my husband.”
“I’ll show you when he and I have our next meeting,” I promised her. “And in that meeting, you will get the power he’s taken from you back. I assure you of that.”
12
Angela
It was a week before I had another meeting arranged with Mr. Franklin. I had managed to convince Linda to come to my office, but when she saw the address, her apprehension was obvious. I didn’t realize how it might look until I really thought about it. With the way reality was nowadays anything could happen. So, when she arrived at my office, I was delighted.
Curiosity got the best of her. That was promising.
The only unfortunate thing was she was dressed in the same prim way she had met me for lunch in. I doubted she would come wearing anything provocative, but I had hope. I eyed the gray slacks and light pink blouse she wore, maybe they could work. Perhaps something along the lines of a secretary getting revenge? Fantasies could happen with anything if you thought about it enough and I felt like I could help make this happen.
The only issue I had was that I found myself inexplicably excited by this.
“Normally,” I started as I dawdled behind the desk in the front lobby. “I would have to sign a nondisclosure agreement,” I saw her interest quirk as she lingered in the front doorway. “But, because this is your spouse I will forgo that.” I took a breath and stepped from behind my desk with my keys so I could unlock the door that led to my playroom. “You aren’t particularly squeamish, are you?” I couldn’t judge whether or not she was prudish, I didn’t know her that well. I assumed that the reason that her husband came to me was an issue with himself, and didn’t have anything to do with her.
I could always be wrong, as much as I hated to admit that.
I looked back at her, “Are you ready?”
She stepped away from the door and came to me, “Show me.” Her brows were drawn together, “Show me what you do to him.”
Good, that was just what I was looking for. I opened the door, and I flicked on the lights. There was no reason to keep them dim. There was no atmosphere to set. I wanted her to see everything I had in here. I gestured for her to go in first. I would wait to see what her expression was, how she would take all that I was showing her.
She stepped into the brightly lit room ahead of me. Confusion still colored her features. It wasn’t immediately obvious. There was the bed, an unstained wooden table, a block, and ropes that hung from the ceiling. The look she gave me made it obvious she didn’t know what she was looking at. That’s when I stepped in and moved around her. I went to the closet where I kept the paddles, whips, and the other instruments that I had collected to use on her husband and others.
When I turned back to her I could see understanding on her face now. There wasn’t disgust. There wasn’t anything, but amazement as she came to meet me by my closet. “You use these things on him?”
“A few of them,” there was a few things that had collected dust. It's mostly because I favored the paddle or a flogger. I had only used the whip once, and I wasn’t sure I would use it again. I opened a draw that showed an assortment of restraints so that there would be no doubt what went on back here, now.
I heard her gasp, and I tried to keep a cool air as I turned to look back at her. “Why did you want to show this to me?”
“I don’t want Allen,” I told her plainly. It was best to be truthful as far as I was concerned. “With what I do there’s a great possibility to become attached to the person dominating you, it happens often, and relationships blossom into something more. It’s not a dynamic I am looking for. I didn’t want this to turn into a serious master and slave relationship, so I need to find a suitable replacement. I have been suggesting that he get you to take my place. I don’t know if he’s even come to you with it. Has he?”
She shook her head and reached up to touch the cat of nine tails. Her fingers toyed with the leather strips, “It’s been months since we last had sex. Normally he only seeks me for affection when there is a special event, like there is some obligation to it.”
“Did you come?” I asked out of curiosity. I doubted it because often when sex was done out of a sense of duty it would feel incomplete and at least one party would be unsatisfied.
She flushed prettily, and I couldn’t fathom why he would leave this woman at home. “Not often. Allen can be selfish at his best of times.”
That made me angry. From the way she looked at me, I could assume that it showed on my face, “This is an opportunity to put your husband where he belongs.”
“Where is that?” She looked confused like she couldn’t understand what I was getting out with all of this.
“On his knees,” I took a step closer to her, and I growled at her. “Right in front of you, worshiping you like you are a goddess. That is where he belongs.” I didn’t give her the opportunity to protest either, I wanted this so much. Especially learning that everything that happened here wasn’t taken home with him. That he ignored orders I gave him, “You need to take control of this man and put him in his place. Tell me you will do this.”
Those blue eyes of hers searched my face as if she would be able to find some shred of doubt that I felt about her being able to do this. “I don’t know where to start, how to do this,” she sounded meek, not at all like the woman I had lunch with the week before. Not at all like the woman that slapped me.
I took a breath and smiled at her, hoping it was reassuring. “If I hold your hand, will you at least try?”
She laughed a little at that, “I see now why he comes to you. You are mesmerizing. I’m afraid to tell you no.”
“You needn’t be afraid,” I took a step back and fished my phone from my purse. “I wouldn’t hurt you, though after speaking with you I am going to have a hard time not taking it out on him. Fortunately, he’ll be here in an hour for me to do that.”
“What?” she immediately shook off the shyness and looked just as perturbed as she had when we first met. “This is why you waited for me to come here. You wanted me to confront him.”
“I was going to confront him either way,” I shrugged and walked to the bathroom. I had just enough time to touch up my makeup and slip out of the outfit I was wearing so I could appear for him as I might in any other meeting. When I stepped out of the bathroom she saw me in the lingerie that he liked for me to be in. I could see the doubt there, “I have never and will never have sex with your husband. It is not something I am interested in doing.” I paused to adjust a garter so that the stocking on my left leg wouldn’t roll down.
“Then why dress like that at all?”
“Because denial,” I looked at her, “is part of it. To give you context. After each of our interactions, I would instruct him to come home to you and worship you. You can use your imagination as to what I meant by that. Obviously, he did not do that. Did he?” I looked at her before going to find the silky robe that I wore over it. That way when I went to answer the door, I didn’t have to worry about exposing myself to anyone on the sidewalk.
“He didn’t,” she stayed at my closet, seeming to take an interest in the implements of punishment.
“Then I will definitely need your help in deciding his appropriate punishment. The question is,” I went to the door that led back into the lobby. “Will you do it? Will give him a fitting punishment and change the course of your marriage?”
“I want to do this,” she turned to look at me. “Tell me what to do.” Those words gave me a reason to look forward to Mr. Franklin’s appointment.
When he arrived I couldn’t contain my excitement. I waited by the door, and I greeted him as I usually did, I didn’t want him to get any ideas that I was up to something. I locked the front door behind him, “Undress and kneel on the X.”
I went to get the pieces that I needed, I didn’t watch him undress it wasn’t something that interested me. In
stead, I used the moment to calm my demeanor. I wouldn’t let myself get out of control. When I turned around he was kneeling demurely on the taped X, just as I told him to. I found myself questioning him now, he never did the ‘homework’ I assigned him. He never did what I told him to do.
I took the leather cuffs with me to him. “Give me your hands,” I commanded, and he complied immediately, his eyes down to the floor. I cuffed his wrists together, not taking the time to ensure that they weren’t too tight. I reached for the hook that hung down, and I slipped it into the loops of his cuffs. “Stand,” though he could either stand on his own or I could pull him up with the pulley system I had in place.
But like the good little submissive, he did like he was told. I knew better now, and once I had him up on his toes, I was going to expose it all. I took the time to get into position before I tied off the rope that secured him on the pulleys wouldn't slip. I came back to him and positioned a bar between his ankles, I was putting him into a position where he would have to face everything and not be able to do anything about it.