Fem Dom (30 page)

“Huh?” Fitz muttered.

Tara slid out a small remote control from inside her thigh high boot and pointed it at the large televisions. The screens all snapped to black, then footage of Sissy Boy at Mistress Krystal’s apartment filled started playing. All eyes in the VIP lounge were now firmly focused on the large TVs and the raw video images of a naked, tattooed Fitz. The crowd were silenced and captivated. They watched the footage of Mistress Angel whipping the heavily tattooed images of her prey.

Fitz could do nothing other than stand rooted to the spot and see what other horrible scenes the video would reveal.

“Oooooohhh!”

Everyone reacted as one voice as they witnessed Mistress Angel slamming her boot into Fitz’s jaw and knocking out his tooth from his bloodied mouth. They were equally gobsmacked.

Fitz had seen enough. He pushed his way through the stupefied crowd only to run into a livid Frank Bergenson.

“You stupid sonofabitch.”

Fitz shoved past him and disappeared deeper into the crowd.

“Turn off those damn TVs!” Frank yelled across the room. But nobody moved. It was compulsive viewing. “Jesus Christ!”

Frank pushed his way through the crowd to the DVD player and switched it off. The TV screens went black and the Bergenson & Adler showreel started playing again.

Right at that moment, the news crew from WKBO entered with video cameras and bright lights forcing a retreating Fitz back into the lounge. A smiling Lucy Gerhardt shoved a microphone in his face.

“I’m here live at the Depot Pavilion in downtown Minneapolis at Frank Bergenson’s farewell party and look who’s here! Elvis!”

Fitz looked like a dead man walking. Frank Bergenson shoved his way back through the mayhem to join Fitz in the spotlight. Lucy turned her attention to the old man.

“And here’s Superman! Actually this is the man himself, Mr. Frank Bergenson and the man who will be replacing him as the new CEO of Bergenson & Adler, Mr. Kurt Fitzgerald…”

“I’d like to make a small presentation if I may?” Mistress Angel interrupted, deliberately stepping into frame before anyone could stop her. Frank and Fitz stood in the spotlight, terrified of what might happen next.

“Okay, sexy lady. Go ahead!” Lucy Gerhardt beamed innocently, holding the microphone in front of Mistress Angel and clueless as to what had transpired just moments ago.

“I have a special presentation for Mr. Kurt Fitzgerald.”

Frank Bergenson snatched at the microphone and grappled with Lucy Gerhardt but she was too quick for him.

“Whoa, we’ll get to you in a moment, Frank,” the WKBO anchorwoman scolded.

With no place to hide, Fitz look terrified as the smiling Fem Dom stood in front of the news crew.

“I would like to present Sissy Boy here with this spectacular molar which I kicked out of his fat mouth at his last session with me.” She held the tooth up for the camera to see.

“Wow!”

“Holy shit!”

“I told you she was for real, man,” said Ricky the alter boy to his cohorts. Lucy Gerhardt looked horrified and the sound bites from the crowd didn’t help.

Fitz could restrain himself no longer. He leapt towards Tara, knocking the his missing molar out of her hand hoping no one would see it. But it was too late for that. The lights and cameras filmed the scrambling Fitz down on all fours trying to retrieve it.

“Sissy Boy! This is not the time or place to start tonguing my nice latex boots now is it?” Mistress Angel scolded.

As the news crew captured the mayhem now ensuing, James Molinaire walked out in disgust followed by his alter boy gang.

Lucy Gerhardt ushered away her film crew, realizing that this was absolutely not appropriate for live television but the damage had been done.

Back in the ballroom, The Beatles broke into another classic tune as Mistress Angel disappeared out of the VIP lounge and into the dancing crowd. She had to find her husband and get the Hell out of Dodge before she got identified as Clem’s wife.

Frank Bergenson looked downcast. “Jesus fucking Christ. That’s a shitload of PR we didn’t need. Who the fuck was that crazy bitch?”

In the packed ballroom, Tara made her way through the crowd and found Clem sitting on the floor over in a corner with two other pirates looking pretty hammered.

“I see you found some fellow shipmates,” Tara said looking at Henry and Jerry from the creative department.

“Where have you been?” Clem asked.

“Just hanging out in the lounge. Ran into some of your friends,” Tara answered innocuously. Clem stood up and took Tara to one side.

“Let’s get outta here. I don’t fancy waiting around to see Frank make his damn announcement,” Clem said, already maneuvering his way towards the exit.

“Too late,” said Tara, pointing to the fake Fab Four leaving the stage. The house lights came up and the crowd turned its attention to the podium where the WKBO news crew had taken up position. A man looking remarkably like Abraham Lincoln walked to center stage to much applause.

“Ladies and gentlemen, without further ado, the man of the moment, Mr. Frank Bergenson!”

As wild applause and cheering broke out amongst the alcohol enthused gathering, Frank Bergenson walked up to the microphone, looking more like Superman’s tired grandpa.

In the wings, a subdued Kurt Fitzgerald tried to pull himself together though he was still emotionally shaken up from his public humiliation. His head was a jumble of thoughts. So far, what was supposed to have been a celebratory, triumphant evening had turned into an unmitigated disaster.

Why the fuck would Mistress Angel do that to him? His sexual fantasies were private – between him and the person he chose to dominate and humiliate him. This was nobody else’s business!

Frank began his speech.

“Hello fellow partygoers! I think you all know who I am - I’m Superman!”

The ballroom erupted into laughter and applause. Frank raised his hand to quiet them.

“Thank you all for coming tonight to celebrate my last day in the advertising business as CEO of Bergenson & Adler. I’d also like to thank The Beatles for entertaining us and blowing out my eardrums. Been quite an eventful evening that’s for sure. Great to see Channel 5 are still here.”

Frank looked to the wings where Lucy Gerhardt was watching. “Hey, I should send you an invoice for that free ad I just gave you.” Frank waited for the laughter to subside as he switched gears to a more serious tone. “Now I’m not going to bore you to death and ruin the fun atmosphere with one those tediously dull speeches…”

“Thank God for that,” mumbled Clem to Tara, watching from the rear of the ballroom. “Come on, let’s go.” Clem reached for Tara’s gloved arm and tugged her towards a bar-stop exit door. They slowly and silently squeezed through the last layer of guests whose attention was fully focused on Frank Bergenson up on stage.

“Sixty one years in this business has taught me a lot. I’ve worked with some very talented people during my career, most of whom I’ve hired so they’ve got me to thank for their success.” Muted laughter rippled through the crowd. “I’ve worked with geniuses and morons, visionaries and nitwits, so I know talent when I see it and when I don’t see it. Fortunately, most of you here are people I respect though I thought I saw some jackasses earlier though that might’ve just been their costume.”

“Fuck, it’s locked,” said Clem to Tara as he pushed against the exit door. They were stuck at the rear of the ballroom.

Frank paused and looked out at the two thousand or so guests that had come out to celebrate his career. “So, I know you’ve all been wondering who’s going to be my successor and take over the reins of the most successful ad agency in the Mid-West. Well, it has to be someone special. After all, Superman is one tough act to follow. I’ve made my choice from the ranks within the company. This man is indeed a visionary, so I’m very pleased to announce that the next CEO of Bergenson & Adler will be none other than the very talented …..Mr. Clem Drew!”

A loud cheer went up as heads started turning around looking for Clem. In the wings, Kurt Fitzgerald stared in disbelief as if he’d misheard Frank’s announcement. As wild applause filled the room, a spotlight caught Clem in its glare. Tara ducked out of the way. She’d done enough damage already.

“Speech!” someone yelled and before he knew it, Clem was being shoved towards the stage to rapturous cheering.

Lucy Gerhardt looked totally confused as she stared over at the dumbstruck Fitz who staggered past her, almost knocking her over. He pushed his way through a group of men dressed as Minnesota Vikings cheerleaders and hurriedly exited the ballroom through a side door. It slammed shut behind him.

“Elvis has left the building,” said one of the news crew.

Clem made his way up on stage and walked towards the podium. Tara was so shocked and delighted that she started to tear up. The drama of the evening had finally gotten the better of her. It seemed that being in control was exhausting work, even for a real Mistress.

Clem looked across at Frank Bergenson who’d never looked happier. Standing at the podium, Clem removed his pirate eye patch and the red bandana around his head and tapped the microphone. Tara watched proudly between a cheering Marilyn Monroe and Lady Gaga.

“Thank you. Thank you, everyone.” Clem’s voice boomed out across the ballroom. “Thanks, Frank. Wow. Bit of a surprise.” The crowd was with him. “No, really. This is a huge surprise and I’ll tell you all why. A few days ago, Frank here told me he was going to announce to you all tonight that Kurt Fitzgerald was going to be our next CEO.”

Frank Bergenson shrugged, trying to dilute the awkwardness of Clem’s blunt honesty. A murmur went around the floor. Clem looked away from the crowd and focused his gaze on Superman.

“What happened, Frank? Fitz turn you down?” The room went dead quiet. “I learnt a lot from you over the four years I’ve worked here at Bergenson & Adler. You’re right, this agency has some terrific people. To be CEO of this fine agency was something I’d always wanted and worked hard to get.”

The reflective pirate sucked in a deep breath of air. “Like I said, I’ve got no idea what made you change your mind tonight but I’ve got an announcement to make as well. I’ve changed my mind, too. I don’t want your lousy job!”

Clem beamed a broad smile. A roar of laughter broke out. “I’m serious. I don’t fucking want it!”

Clem was still looking over at an extremely uncomfortable Frank Bergenson. The laughter subsided quickly, as if all the oxygen had just been sucked out of the place. Tara couldn’t believe what she was hearing but her husband wasn’t finished yet.

“And you know why, Frank?” You could hear a pin drop. “Because I’m tired of all the bullshit!”

Two very drunk Klingons at the back of the ballroom burst into applause but were instantly hushed by Captain Kirk. Frank walked over to the podium where Clem was speaking and put his hand over the microphone.

“Jesus, Clem. This is being broadcast live! Why are you doing this to me?”

Clem smiled.

“It’s business, Frank. Just business.”

Clem pushed Frank’s hand away from the microphone and yelled out. “I quit! Thanks, guys! Been a wild ride!”

And with that, Clem walked off the stage back into the stunned audience. A few partygoers applauded but Tara’s hands were over her mouth in shock at her husband’s outrageous speech.

In the wings, Lucy Gerhardt turned to her news crew. “Let’s go, boys. What a cluster fuck this turned out to be.”

As Clem exited to some handshakes and pats on the back, various voices called after Clem wishing him luck and thanking him.

“You go, Clem!”

“Way to tell it!”

“The truth shall set you free!” bellowed a drunk preacher.

As the lights dimmed, a deejay tried to get the energy levels back on track again by playing an annoyingly loud song with a pulsating bass thump. Clem made his way through the now dancing throng towards Tara. He gave her a huge hug and kissed her on the lips with a big smack.

“Okay.
Now
can we leave?” He grabbed hold of Tara and pulled his confused Fem Dom away. Tara was still in stunned disbelief that all her hard work had been for nothing. They scurried down a hallway and out onto the sidewalk.

“What just happened, Clem? I mean…what were you thinking up there?”

Clem handed his ticket to one of the white-jacketed valet boys and stood on the pavement looking very pleased with himself. Tara wasn’t quite so happy.

“Seriously. What the fuck happened back there?”

Her smiling husband appeared to have a very relaxed aura about him. “Well, I think I just retired from the ad business,” he grinned.

“That was insane! That’s it then?”

“That’s it, I guess.”

“God! One minute you’re depressed you’re not gonna make CEO and when they hand it to you on a plate you tell Frank to stuff it up his ass.”

“Yeah. Felt good!” Clem beamed.

“Just how drunk are you?”

“Totally, unbelievably cool man!” a wasted Klingon shouted, as he stumbled out of the Pavilion’s revolving door. Clem smiled and waved back at him. Tara shook her head.

“Well, at least the Klingon empire still loves you.”

“I had two glasses of wine. And one moment of clarity.”

Clem did a goofy little pirate jig. His mood was bordering on exuberant, a far cry from the sullen state he was in on his way to the party. For Tara, the evening had been a completely different experience. Her adrenalin rush of acting out as Mistress Angel had been seriously tempered by Clem’s un-acceptance speech.

“Oh, shit.” Tara shook her head as she looked at her dancing pirate. “What a crazy, crazy party this turned out to be. Sure no one slipped you a Mickey?”

Clem ended his little jig and put his hands on Tara’s leather corseted hips. “Damn, you look good tonight, honey. Y’know, I’ve been thinking a lot over these past few days and a few light bulbs flashed on tonight.”

The silver Mercedes pulled up alongside them. Clem handed a few bucks to the valet boy who held open the passenger door for Tara. Within seconds, the pirate and the Fem Dom were speeding through downtown towards Interstate 62. Tara stared over at her seemingly quite sober and lucid husband.