by Sana Chase
My exploration uncovered quite a few lavishly decorated rooms. I found a library, several sitting rooms, an extravagant number of bathrooms, and an open room I assumed must be a ballroom, a small theater room, a game room, and a gym.
The discovery of the game room rather amused me as I just could not visualize Jace Weatherton playing arcade games or a game of pool, not to mention that the brightly lit and decorated room seemed quite out of place in the lavish mansion. Besides the fact, if Mr. Weatherton had a gym and a room full of arcade games and game tables, then what exactly did he have in his private rec room?
7.
The first couple of weeks went by in a blur as I settled into my new routine. Mr. Weatherton had set up a small office for me in a little room off of his home office. I actually thought it very likely that it had once been a closet because I’d not seen any rooms anywhere near this small in the mansion, not even the bathrooms. Mainly, I sat at my gleaming cherry wood desk and answered the phone or typed up communications or emails for Mr. Weatherton. I also kept an eye on his appointment book to ensure that he didn’t miss any scheduled events.
Everything had been so routine that the first startling encounter I’d had with him almost seemed like a dream. The problem was, the dream turned me on so much that every day I toyed with the idea of being late just to see what Mr. Weatherton would do to me. Would he spank me again? Something inside me seemed to want him to.
I didn’t understand why I felt that way I did, but I often found my mind wandering with thoughts of Mr. Weatherton bending me over his lap and spanking me again, but my lustful thoughts didn’t end there. I found myself imagining him taking me forcefully, claiming me as his own with thrust after powerful thrust.
“Miss Darling!”
I looked up from my desk to find Mr. Weatherton standing in the doorway with a frown marring his handsome face. Immediately my heart tripped in my chest. Would he punish me for daydreaming?
“I’m sorry, Mr. Weatherton, what did you say?”
“I don’t enjoy having to repeat myself, Miss Darling.”
He took two steps into my little office, which put him directly in front of my desk. I felt my face heat up and was surprised he couldn’t hear the booming of my heart as I waited to see what fate would befall me. He placed his hands flat on my desk and leaned in so that his face was mere inches from mine. His dark eyes shined hard and had an almost cruel glint in them.
“If I find that I’m having to repeat myself often to you, I might need to think of a way to ensure that I always have your utmost attention. Do you understand?”
I shuddered. I couldn’t help it. His voice had dropped to a deep growl, and it made something low inside me tighten. The timbre of his voice promised that whatever he came up with would be an experience I would likely never forget.
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Good.” He took his hands from my desk and stood up straight. “We are having a guest at dinner tonight, so I would like for you to dress more formally.” He turned his back on me and strode from the room.
A guest? I wondered who it could be. In the two weeks that I’d lived in his mansion, I’d never seen anyone but business associates or employees. A sudden thought hit me, and a bolt of panic shot through me.
Dress more formally? Our meals up to this point had been casual, and so I hadn’t given a thought to the possibility that it might change. I had enough money from my weekly stipend to buy something that would fit a formal setting, but I’d not yet done so.
A quick check of my watch told me that I wouldn’t be able to dash out and pick up something before dinner. There wasn’t enough time. What was I going to do?
I closed up my office and rushed up the stairs to my room. When I threw open the door, I found a surprise waiting for me on my bed. A white garment bag was laid across the coverlet, and a note was attached to it.
I thought you might not yet have gotten to the chance to expand your wardrobe, so I took the liberty of picking out a dress for you to wear to dinner tonight. –J.W.
A thrill shot through me. Jace Weatherton never seemed to miss a beat, and he never failed to surprise me in ways I didn’t expect. First, he personally picked out the furnishings and decorations for my room. Then, he designed my small office.
Now, he’d already figured me out enough to know that I wouldn’t be prepared for a formal dinner and went to the trouble of making sure I had something to wear. Did the man pay this much attention to all of his employees? Surely he did. There was nothing about me so special as to garner such thoughtfulness.
I gasped when I pulled the dress out of the bag. The rich green material felt silky soft as it cascaded through my fingers. Delicate jewel accents around the neckline caught the overhead light and sparkled brightly. It was the most beautiful dress I’d ever seen. Gently laying it back on the bed, I hurried into the bathroom for a quick shower.
I hated that I didn’t have time to properly see to my thick mane of hair. Dinner time was coming up fast, and I still had to freshen up my make up and get dressed, so there was no time to wash and style my hair.
Once I’d lathered soap all over my body and rinsed off, I stepped out of the shower and grabbed a towel. I dried my skin and padded into my room. The gorgeous dress required better underwear than my normal plain, white cotton. Luckily, new underwear was something I had actually made time to go out and buy.
I went to my dresser and opened the drawer that held my new purchases. Even though I’d bought them after my first check, I hadn’t yet worn any of them. I guess subconsciously I’d been waiting for a special occasion.
I pulled out a lacy, black pair and eyed them. I’d opted for a bikini cut because I couldn’t quite bring myself to buy a thong. There was just something about the idea of having a strip of material stuck between my cheeks that bothered me.
Slipping the panties up my curvy legs, I tugged them over my hips. They were a snug fit but a few steps around the room told me that they weren’t going to ride up. I walked over to the bed and picked up the dress.
The top was made in such a way that I couldn’t wear a normal bra with it, and I didn’t own a strapless one. It couldn’t be helped now. I would just have to go without.
I unzipped the dress just enough to allow me to step into it and pulled it up over my rounded hips. Reaching behind me, I stretched my arm back and managed to get ahold of the zipper and slid it up.
I smoothed the dress down and padded across the soft carpet to stand in front of the full length mirror that stood near my make-up table. When I looked at my reflection, I frowned slightly. The dress definitely was beautiful, and it hugged my frame, molding against my body. Which was the problem. It hugged my curves a little too much.
Normally, I wore my clothes a little loose in order to hide my curves. Some curves you wanted to accentuate, but others you didn’t. In my case, I didn’t want my clothes clinging to the extra weight I carried around. I mean, I wasn’t obese by any stretch of the imagination, but I had more meat on my bones than I liked. As I said, I most definitely wasn’t a supermodel.
I sighed and slowly turned in a circle in front of the mirror. Oh well, there wasn’t anything I could do about it. It was my own fault that I hadn’t gone shopping and picked out a dress myself that didn’t fit quite so snugly.
I just had to make the best of the situation. Maybe Mr. Weatherton would be distracted enough by the low cut neckline that he wouldn’t pay any attention to the rest of me.
I quickly pulled my hair up into an up-do that looked more natural with my attire than a regular ponytail, making sure to allow a few curls to hang down on the side to frame my face. Sitting in front of the mirror, I grabbed my make-up and dabbed some on my face.
I added a bit more than I normally wore as I felt the formal occasion called for it. Satisfied that I’d done the best I could, I grabbed a simple pair of earrings and then my watch.
Oh shit!
I was gonna be late.
8.
Dawdling in front of the mirror had cost me precious time, and I was a minute late reaching the dining room. My apology died in my throat, and I stopped short at the door as my eyes fell on our guest for the evening, who stood beside Mr. Weatherton near the table. Platinum blonde curls piled high on her head, and carefully applied make-up enhanced her flawless face.
A slinky, black dress hugged her supermodel body. The neckline plunged almost to her belly button, barely hiding the swell of her breasts. She wore spiked silver heels which caused her ass to jut out perfectly and had legs that just wouldn’t quit.
My heart fell to my stomach, and I felt nauseated. I knew all along that Jace Weatherton could have his pick of any gorgeous woman, but I’d gotten used to having his undivided attention at meals and when he worked in his home office that I’d created a bit of a fantasy that maybe—just maybe, he might actually be attracted to me.
I had to blink back the tears that welled up in my eyes and threatened to fall. I’d been stupid. So very stupid. I should’ve known better than to entertain any thought of Mr. Weatherton being attracted to me. The attention he seemed to shower on me must be the same as for every other person in his employ.
My elation at wearing the pretty dress disappeared. For a moment, I’d felt beautiful—until I walked into the room to see what beautiful really was. I wanted nothing more than to turn on my heels before he saw me and flee the room, but I knew if I did, I’d face the consequences…and I had a feeling the punishment would be much more severe than what I’d experienced for being late.
He looked up and caught my eye, and my heart fluttered. Would I always react that way when he looked at me?
“Miss Darling, come meet our guest.”
He beckoned me toward where they stood. I hesitated for a moment, taking a deep breath before gliding across the carpet.
“This is, Tiffany. She’s an old friend of mine. We attended school together.”
I took the offered hand and shook it. It was the briefest of handshakes. She pulled her hand away from mine almost the minute our skin touched. Tiffany barely glanced at me as she shifted her body away from me and toward Mr. Weatherton. Obviously, I was not worthy of her attention.
He moved around the table and pulled out her chair. She smirked at me and sat down. Irritation quickly welled up inside me. I wanted to smack the smart ass smile right off her face.
I knew this would be the longest meal of my life. I would be lucky to escape it without doing or saying something that caused Mr. Weatherton to throw me out on my ass.
I walked around the table to my own chair, but to my surprise, Mr. Weatherton beat me to it, and pulled it out for me. As I sat, I glanced over at Tiffany to see she was shooting me a death glare. Apparently, she didn’t appreciate that Mr. Weatherton’s gentlemanly graces extended to me as well.
One of the maids stayed over to help the cook serve the meal, and they came into the posh dining room bearing steaming plates of food. I spent the meal mostly listening to them talk and picking at my food. Tiffany laughed and flirted like Mr. Weatherton was the last man on earth. She also talked incessantly about herself, and I could’ve sworn at one point that she attempted to play footsie with him under the table.
By the end of the meal, I wanted to stab her with my fork. I’d never in my life seen someone so vapid and transparent. She laid her napkin on the table by her plate and stood.
“Jace, why don’t you give me a tour of your marvelous home?”
She batted her eyelashes at him.
Dear Lord, please give me patience and the willpower to not cause this woman bodily harm.
He rose and glanced over at me.
“Miss Darling, would you care to accompany us?”
Tiffany shot me a look that said if I accepted, she’d strangle me with her bare hands. As torn as I was between being a thorn in her side and having the chance to spend time getting between her and Mr. Weatherton, I thought it best if I didn’t go with them. I’d reached the end of my ability to keep my mouth shut. If I accompanied them on the tour, I’d surely get myself in trouble.
“Thank you for the invitation, Mr. Weatherton, but I think I’ll pass.”
Mr. Weatherton frowned slightly, almost as if he was disappointed in my answer. Surely, I imagined that. Why would he want me with them?
They exited the room, and I could hear her annoying laugh floating down the hallway as they moved off to another part of the house. I blew out a breath and stood up, pushing back my chair. I gathered up some of the dishes and carried them into the kitchen. I might as well make myself useful.
I helped Rosie, the maid, and Sophia, the cook, clean up the dinner dishes and then remained in the kitchen for a time. Sophia regaled us with a tale of how her husband had ruined the plans she’d made for their weekend by inviting his mother over for a visit. Her staccato speech was difficult to understand, but I managed to catch the gist of what she said.
Sophia padded over to the gleaming chrome refrigerator and pulled out a covered dish. Inside of it sat a creamy cheesecake.
“Would you like a slice, Katie?” she asked me.
It was weird to be called by my first name. Everyone always called me Miss Darling. I didn’t even know she knew my first name.
I shook my head and stood.
“No, but thank you for the offer.”
I pushed my stool up to the big island in the middle of the kitchen.
“I think I’m going to call it a night. See you both tomorrow.”
9.
I exited through the dining room, and as I did so, the door to the private rec room caught my eye. I knew most of the staff were off for the night, and I suspected that Mr. Weatherton and Tiffany would be on their “tour” for quite some time. Reaching out, I tried the doorknob and gasped in surprise when it turned. It wasn’t locked!
My shock increased when I pushed the door open, and my gaze traveled over the room. I expected gaming tables and workout equipment, but what I saw scattered around the large area was definitely not used for playing games…at least not those kind of games. The only reason I understood what I saw was because the feelings the spanking had aroused in me made me curious enough to do some research.
The various furniture in the room were painted glossy black. Some had bright red cushions. All had some type of restraints attached, whether it was shiny, black silk ribbons or padded cuffs.
I saw benches, couches, and a big wooden X with restraints attached to the top and bottom of the posts. My heart tripped in my chest. Mr. Weatherton had hidden a big secret behind the closed door of his private rec room.
I walked deeper into the room, unable to quell my curiosity. Flashes of pictures I’d seen in my research flitted through my mind. My core tightened, and heat flared between my legs. The idea of Jace Weatherton strapping onto one of the pieces of furniture in the room excited me. I didn’t understand why, but the idea of giving up total control to him turned me on.
He appeared in the room as if the though had conjured him.
“Miss Darling. I’m certain Harold instructed you that this room was off limits. Did he not?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
My heart hammered in my chest. I knew I was busted. I could only imagine what type of punishment would follow.
He stepped into the room and closed the door firmly behind him.
“And yet, here you are in my private room…uninvited—though not entirely unwelcome.”
I shivered as the timbre of his voice dropped low and deep. I wasn’t unwelcome in this room? Did that mean… Excitement flared inside me at the anticipation of what was to come, but a small part of me wanted to flee the room. I took a step toward the door, but he moved in front of me.
“On top of this infraction, you were late for dinner.”
Damn. I’d really hoped he hadn’t noticed.
“You are well aware of what happens to someone in my employ who can’t follow instructions. Which makes me believe that maybe you wa
nt to be punished.”
He placed a finger under my chin and lifted my head so that our eyes met. I sucked in a breath at the intensity of his gaze.
“Do you, Miss Darling?”
“I…don’t know.”
He smiled cruelly.
“Don’t you?”
His deep blue eyes searched mine, and he nodded as though he saw the answer to his question in them.
“Yes, I believe you do.”
He stepped back away from me and crossed his arms over his broad chest.
“Take off your dress,” he commanded, his voice sounding as though steel ran through it.
“I…what?”
Surely I’d heard him wrong.
“I’ve already made it quite clear I don’t enjoy repeating myself. Take off your dress.”
His voice hardened even more than I thought possible.
I reached backward over my shoulder to grasp the zipper and did the little dance that was required in order to slide it down far enough for me grab it behind my back and slide it the rest of the way down. Once I managed to unzip the dress, I hesitated. No man had ever seen me naked before.
Why would he want to see my curves in all their glory when he had the likes of Tiffany running around? I knew without a doubt she would drop her dress—and anything else—for him at a moment’s notice. Besides, he could spank me easily with my dress hiked up. Why did he want it off?
His eyes softened, and he spoke quietly.
“From the questionnaire you filled out prior to your interview, I am aware you’ve never been with a man. I realize this means you’ve likely never undressed in front of one, however, you did sign a contract that stated you would abide by any punishment I saw fit.”
His voice dropped once again to that low, deep timbre that made my knees go weak and other parts of my body quiver.
“Now, this is the last time I’m going to tell you. Take off the dress.”