Dominance and Submission - Write Away, Sir

by Alexandra Noir

  "Hey," she greeted him. He smiled at her, then saw the look on her face.

  "What’s up?” he asked. "Something happen at work? Did you get fired or something?”

  "No, no, I didn’t get fired," she replied, and she sat down on the edge of the couch and rubbed her hand over her face. "Look, there’s something I need to talk to you about..."

  "Okay, hit me," he replied, leaning back on to the couch. Dreamer came and nudged up against his feet, and Stephanie took a deep breath and forced herself to come out with it.

  "So, my boss offered me the chance to go with him to this...event," she explained.

  "Event?”

  "Event," she repeated. "It’s this...party. That people who are into BDSM stuff go to, to...share their interests."

  "Wait, hold on." He stopped her in her tracks. Lifting a hand, he raised his eyebrows at her. "This is like some...sex party?”

  "Not necessarily sex," she assured him. "Just a gathering for people to explore their...interests."

  "And he wants to take you along to it?” he demanded. "That’s really inappropriate, don’t you think?”

  "It’s for the sake of the story," she protested, but she knew it was weak. He had a damn good point.

  "And what, you just want me to sit by while you go to this...to this weird, debauched thing with some man who I’ve never even met before?”

  "Nothing like that," she promised him. "It’s just a chance to take in some stuff that I’ve never looked into before-"

  "Haven’t we tried?” he demanded, running his hands through his hair. "Haven’t we given it a fair shot? I don’t think that it’s fair that you’re just going to go out and fool around-"

  "Hey, I told you, there’s nothing sexual about what’s going on between us," she shot back, furious. "This is just a work trip. Nothing more. You know the kind of stuff I write, it’s not exactly what other people would consider average. You said you were okay with all of that."

  "You don’t get to just change the parameters," he argued, but she could tell there was more to it than that. There was something else, too – something going on. Maybe it had to do with the fact that their own attempts at kinky sex had ended so badly, and now a man who actually knew what he was doing had rocked up and was offering to show her how this BDSM thing worked.

  "Okay, well, I’m going to go," she shot back, crossing her arms over her chest angrily. "And there’s nothing you can do to stop me. I’m not cheating on you, this is research."

  "If you go, then I’m not going to be here when you get back," he warned her. She raised her eyebrows at him.

  "Seriously?”

  "Seriously," he replied. "That’s it. I’m not sitting around waiting for you to come home from hooking up with some random guy."

  "Fine," she snapped back. And she found that she meant it. She didn’t care if he walked out right then and there. Some part of her wanted him to go. She couldn’t believe that it was happening, but it was. The promise of Cameron, the tantalizing thrill of escaping with him, was too much for her to deny.

  "Then I’m going," he replied tersely. He seemed to be waiting for her to beg him to stay, but to his surprise, she didn’t say a thing. He grabbed some stuff, crammed it into a bag, and hovered by the door for a moment, giving her a chance to stop him.

  "You really sure you want this?" he asked her one last time. She stared at him and nodded, narrowing her eyes. She wasn’t going to back down on this. He had wasted enough of her time, lazing around and doing nothing. Why should she stand up and make a stand when everything between them had been so mediocre?

  "If you really can’t support me in what I need, then you should go," she replied coolly, trying to muster some of the control and calm that Cameron had displayed earlier that day.

  "Fine, I will," he snarled, and he marched out of the door and left her behind. The apartment was quiet, and she was alone.

  As soon as it shut behind him, she thought that she should have felt sad – guilty, even, that she didn’t stop him. But she was glad. He was gone, and now there was nothing standing in between her and Cameron. She grinned as she got to her feet and slipped through to the bedroom, opened up her vibrator drawer, and slipped down beneath the covers. Pushing her panties aside, she clicked it into action and caressed her swollen clit to the thought of her boss taking control of her.

  She could almost feel his hands on her, his urgent breath in her ear, his mouth on her skin, as she brought herself to orgasm after orgasm. He would control her, own her, define her, use her as he saw fit. He might have promised there was nothing sexual going on between them, but that was only as long as she was in a relationship, right? Now that she was newly single, she could do whatever she wanted. And she had every intention of making him first on her list.

  Part 3: Playing the Part

  "Okay," Stephanie muttered as she stared herself down in the mirror. She wasn’t sure how she was meant to feel right now, but the sparkle of excitement deep down in her chest was...something, at least. Something she could enjoy.

  She was preparing to leave the house to attend her very first BDSM party with Cameron, her editor, as her dominant – well, that was what everyone at the party would think, at least, even if they knew it was just for show. Even the thought of him taking control of her in that respect was enough to send jolts of want through her body. She had been fantasizing about him and her, and him taking control of her, since he had first floated the notion of the two of them attending one of these gatherings together. And sure, as far as he was concerned, it was nothing more than a play-act for the sake of research. Hopefully, for Stephanie, it would be enough to get him out of her system for good, even if he didn’t lay so much as a hand upon her.

  The party was taking place at his place, he told her, so he got to set the rules and decide who was going to be in attendance. There were some aspects he would have to keep consistent, of course, and he had passed along a set of rules for her to obey to make sure that she faded into the background without being noticed by anyone there.

  Make sure you dress in dark, modest clothes. Nothing above the knee. High heels. Keep the make-up subtle, and pull your hair back.

  She had taken into account all his demands, and even getting ready, she could feel herself submitting to him, in some profound way. She had never before let a man tell her how to dress herself – in fact, she had profoundly resented the very implication every time any of her partners had tried to get her to wear this or that to their liking – but this was something different. His control was welcome. Necessary, even. If she was going to make it through this night without being figured out, she would have to do everything he said. And she was just fine with that.

  Cameron had delivered more to her than just instructions on how to dress too. He had passed along a series of instructions on how she should act from the very moment she walked into the apartment to the moment she left. They were detailed and elaborate, but called for no actual physical contact between them – she appreciated his respectfulness, but the fantasy of the two of them together persisted. She read the instructions over and over again until she could recite them all in her sleep, until she was satisfied that she wouldn’t somehow fuck this up.

  He had given her the address, mailing it to her through the actual mail so it wasn’t all caught up in their work emails; they had both agreed that it would be for the best for nobody at work to know a thing about what was happening between them. Too easy for them to misconstrue what was happening and assume it was something sexual or romantic. Which, of course, it totally, totally wasn’t. That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

  She straightened the demure black dress she was wearing and checked her hair to make sure that there were no errant hairs making a break for it. No, she was ready to go. No excuse not to go downstairs and meet the cab that was waiting for her. She took one last look at herself in the mirror. Her eyes were shining, and her chest was rising and falling swiftly. Sh
e was so ready for this.

  When she got downstairs, the cab was already waiting, and she slipped into the back seat and pulled the door shut behind her. She probably looked like she was going out on a first date or something, to some fancy restaurant with a dress code. Little did her driver know that she was about to indulge herself in the kinkiest evening she had even experienced.

  Of course, she was nervous. More than nervous. A little terrified, actually. What if she walked in there and everyone could just sense that she didn’t belong? She had never done anything like this before. Her attempts to engage in kinks with her now-ex, Jon, had gone so terribly that she was pretty sure they had signaled the death knell for the end of their relationship at last. Maybe she just wasn’t cut out for this kind of thing...

  She soothed herself as the car drew through the city streets. She didn’t have to be nervous. She was just there to watch, not to actually get involved. If she walked in and found herself just paralyzed by awkwardness, she could hang back and take in everything that was happening and sneak home later to gather herself. She was only there for research, at least on paper, and she could easily just stand there and pull that off, couldn’t she?

  It didn’t take long for the car to arrive outside the tall apartment building that housed the address she was headed toward. She paid the driver and lingered in the back seat for a moment longer.

  "You going?” the driver asked, a little terse. She nodded.

  "Yeah, I’m going," she replied, and she opened the door and climbed out. She was ready. She could do this. She could do this.

  She had no idea what to expect as she buzzed up to the apartment she was heading towards and waited for a response. It was only a moment before she heard a familiar voice coming down the line.

  "Hello?”

  "Uh, hello," she greeted Cameron, and then she remembered the term she was meant to address him by – she blushed as soon as she recalled it, but she licked her lips and managed to get it out.

  "Sir," she finished up.

  "Stephanie?” he replied. "Come on up. Knock twice on the door when you get to the apartment."

  "Will do, Sir," she replied, feeling a fizz of excitement burst through her system. She was here, she was doing this, she couldn’t believe it. Had she ever done anything as bold in her entire life before?

  Stephanie made her way slowly up the stairs, wobbling slightly in her heels as she went; she wasn’t used to walking in them, and she hoped she was going to be able to pull this off. She wanted to fit into this party like she belonged there. Nobody would know that she was anything other than a regular they just hadn’t happened to bump into before, and that was the way she liked it. She could convince. She just had to pretend that she was a character from one of the books she had been working on; demure, deferent.

  Landing two careful knocks on the door, she listened for the noise inside; there was a low buzz of activity, as though the place was waiting for her to arrive. A moment later, the door opened, and she found herself looking into the eyes of the man she hadn’t been able to get out of her head since he had suggested this.

  "Stephanie," he greeted her, and he stepped aside and gestured for her to come in. As she entered, he leaned in and reminded her of one of the rules.

  "Eyes down."

  She lowered her gaze at once, staring at her feet, her heart pounding. She was in. This was actually happening.

  She snuck the briefest look around the apartment, just so she knew what she was dealing with, and found it full of people dressed similarly to her – men and women in low-key outfits, black dresses and dark suits. Well, most of them anyway.

  Her jaw dropped when she saw a man being led, stark naked, on a collar and a leash behind a woman carrying a glass of wine. She looked completely calm, her long, blonde hair cascading down over the shoulders of her beautiful navy-blue dress, and the man behind her was watching her with such adoration that she could practically feel it coming off him in waves. Stephanie quickly averted her gaze from the sight before her, reminding herself that she was meant to be a regular here, but the image was already burned into her head. Was that what submission looked like? The look in his eyes was burned into his brain; the utter, desperate worship in his eyes more than she could wrap her head around.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder and glanced around to see Cameron standing behind her. She went bright red and hoped that he hadn’t seen her staring.

  "I’m glad you could make it," he murmured to her, softly, making sure that nobody else could hear them. "I thought you might back out before we got a chance to go through with this."

  "Not a chance," she replied. "Sir."

  He smiled at her, and she was sure that hearing that word come out of her mouth was doing something for him. She hoped it was. Every time she said it, she felt a jolt of brief, intense desire crackle through her. She was beginning to understand how that man had felt.

  "Come on, let me show you around," he suggested. "You can raise your eyes for now, as long as you're beside me. Just keep them down when I’m not there."

  "Right, Sir," she agreed, and he leaned over to explain his reasoning.

  "People won’t talk to you if you keep your gaze down," he elaborated. "So you’re not going to get caught by someone asking too many questions."

  She smiled at him. He had really thought of everything. Glancing over in the direction of the man who had caught her attention earlier, she decided now was the best time to ask.

  "Is he...?”

  "A submissive, like you?” he replied. "Yes. Not everyone goes as hard as Dean and Samantha, but the two of them...yeah, they always take it to the next level. He’s her full-time submissive, so that means that pretty much twenty-four-seven he does everything she asks of him."

  "Oh my God," Stephanie breathed, shivering at the thought.

  "Come on, there’s a lot I want to show you," Cameron remarked. "If you think you can handle it?”

  "I think I can handle it," she promised him, and the way he smiled at her felt like a gift. Like he was bestowing some great present on her from above. She could already feel something burning inside her, something that she had done her best to ignore from the very first moment she had walked into this place.

  He guided her through the main social area of the apartment, and she finally got a look at where he lived. It looked expensive, far higher on the market than anywhere she had ever lived. The place had an open-plan layout, with the living room leading into the kitchen where a number of people were mingling, chatting, laughing. She had assumed that most of the people here would be spanking and flogging and knocking each other around, but this could almost have passed for just a regular dinner party. Almost.

  But there was a thin corridor that led off the main section of the room, and people kept on vanishing down it as though it led to some magical version of wonderland. And Stephanie had to admit, she was curious – she had been doing a good job playing it cool (or at least cool-adjacent) until that moment, but there was something going on down there that she wanted to be a part of.

  "You want to see what’s going on down there?" Cameron asked, appearing by her side once more. He was so attuned to what she wanted, what she needed. How could he have squirmed inside her head already? She nodded.

  "Yes, Sir..."

  He planted a hand on the small of her back and guided her along the corridor, toward one of the doors at the far end – the place was lit with soft golden light, and it seemed as though it was bathed in luxury. He pushed the door open and guided her over the threshold. His hand left a print on the small of her back, insistent and delicate and burning against her skin. She was hyper-focused on the feeling of it – right up until the moment when she saw what was in front of her.