Submissive Desires (19 page)

77

Maura knew that he would never allow her to just turn away from him like that. She always slept in his arms, even when she was bound, he curled himself around her from behind, which is what he did right then, pulling her back against his front, nestling his now soft genitals into the bottom of her cleft, keeping them ominously present and close to the secret heart of her, always looking for ways to remind her that she was entirely owned by him. He plucked at her nipples, very softly, just enough to distract her a little, so that she fell asleep aching and wanting but not having, the way he kept her most of the time.

Five years ago:

She had called him when she got home, of course. Just because she was uncomfortable with a piece of paper he’d given her, didn’t mean she was willing to throw away her submission to him - their relationship, such as it was.

Truth was, she could no longer imagine what it would be like to not be his, in every way. To have him sending her to bed early because he thought she was tired, scolding her for in appropriate language and washing her mouth out quite diligently when he saw her next for the same, biting into her bottom with that atrocious cane, then licking the welts and fingering her to an explosive orgasm before she really had a chance to recover from the extremely thorough caning.

He had moved into almost every aspect of her life, overseeing her with a tremendous strength and strictness, and a scrupulous honesty that impressed her even as she was being punished for something that the average woman took for granted – like not having to ask permission to go out with her friends.

But that was the life she craved – to be accountable to someone, someone who wouldn’t let her off the hook when she disobeyed his rules.

And Simon was exactly the man to do that largely thankless job – do it well, and enjoy it enormously, if his constant erections were any indication.

Why, then, was she hesitating about signing the agreement or moving in with him? She’d had her lawyer look it over, and it was pretty much as innocuous as it seemed. It was a statement of what they each had before they came together, and that they were going to keep that if they separated. It addressed what would happen to property they’d bought together, and disclaimed the right to common law marriage. It was pretty straight forward, and honestly what it spelled out wasn’t anything more than she would have expected if they’d moved in together and then broken up.

What was wrong with spelling it out beforehand? Granted, it was hardly romantic, but then she knew with whom she was dealing, and didn’t expect that.

Frankly, she couldn’t believe herself – pretty much planning to move in with a man she’d met a couple of months ago on the Internet. Her friends couldn’t believe it either, and were warning her incessantly against it, despite how happy they were that she’d found someone who made her happy – and he did. She never felt repressed or suppressed, despite how quickly and completely he dominated her, and her friends had noticed the difference, wanting her to spill the beans, of course.

Maura had done so delicately, mentioning that he was quite adept in the bedroom, and leaving it at that, no matter how much her friends tried to pry more than that from her. They all wanted to meet him, but Maura wasn’t sure how Simon would feel about that, so she was deliberately vague in her response. She couldn’t see Simon being any too happy to be vetted by her friends in any way, shape, or form, not that he had ever tried to keep her from seeing any of them.

As long as she remembered to ask, as was required.

He called her the next day, which was unusual in and of itself – they generally chatted every night but he only called her Wednesday nights, usually to arrange a time to meet for the weekend.

The phone next to her computer rang. The caller I.D. said “private”. Raising an eyebrow in surprise, knowing who it must be, Maura picked up the phone. “Hello?”

“God you make me hard.”

She couldn’t help it. She giggled uncontrollably.

Simon was indignant. “Hey! I give you a compliment directly related to my manhood and you laugh?”

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Hand over her mouth, unsuccessfully stifling more chuckles, Maura replied, “Sorry. It just struck me as funny.”

“Oh, that’s good,” he said wryly.

Simon seemed in a rare mood – he didn’t very often joke with her – he was usually much too busy trying to teach her a lesson or kill her with orgasms.

“I wanted to call and make sure that you’re all right about what we talked about on Sunday.”

Leave it to him to be straightforward and direct, when she would much have preferred to ignore the situation in the hopes that it would go away. “I’m fine about it.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure.”

“Any thoughts – good, bad or indifferent?”

Maura leaned back in her desk chair. She’d deliberately bought herself an extremely comfortable chair to go with a very pretty white computer desk set. “I dunno. Mostly bad, I guess,” she said, being ruthlessly honest, as he expected.

Simon always said that he would rather hear the truth than to have her dress up a lie because she thought it was what he wanted to hear. Besides the fact that the lie would get her a supreme blistering.

“Bad how?” He would want to know every detail of what she was feeling and thinking.

Against every rule her mother ever taught her about decorum, she propped her feet up on the edge of the bead board desk. “Just a general, overall negative reaction to legalities – legalizing something that’s so tentative anyway.

“It’s not in the least tentative to me, Maura. I want you with me all the time. You’ll have to make some small adjustments because I have need of being pretty careful security-wise, but I want you under my roof and under my thumb, where I can watch you closely and oversee your behavior as strictly as I can.

As strictly as you need.”

The man could make her shiver with just his words and his voice – more so now that she knew his firm, sure touch, and the way he would wield the cane on her hapless bottom if she disobeyed him. “I think it’s a little early for that. And the agreement put me off quite a lot.”

“I think I got that idea. And I’m sorry. It wasn’t meant to. I shouldn’t have sprung it on you like that. I should have approached it better.”

Points in his favor. Simon always admitted it when he was wrong, and tried to rectify the situation if he could. He was a secure enough person to do so. “It’s okay. I was just surprised. Never even heard of one before, much less had one given to me.”

Simon drew a breath and said what he was thinking before he had a chance to reconsider it –

knowing that somewhere, somehow, his lawyer would cringe. “I’d be quite willing to forego the agreement if you’d move in with me right now.”

“I never said I wouldn’t sign the agreement, Simon.”

“Yes, but you really don’t want to, do you?”

“No, but I have a feeling that you’re going to have me doing a lot of things I don’t want to in the future, and this is probably the least painful of all. It also protects me, although, granted, I have much less to protect from you than you do from me.”

The fact that he was fairly wealthy had bothered Maura at first, and really still did. Simon was flabbergasted by her reaction to the fact that his house – aside from being somewhat of a min-fortress with every possible security precaution taken – was almost five thousand square feet, and sported a large in-ground pool and hot tub, tennis courts, as well as a master bath with a large sunken tub. He owned his own plane, and four cars. She found all of these things out slowly, over the course of their conversations and meetings, because Simon was not in the least flashy about his money. But the truth was that he never had to work another day in his life, and he was only forty-nine.

Maura didn’t know what her problem was about his financial success, but she did know that it made her nervous and uncomfortable. She much preferred to pretend that he was just as poor as she was, 79

and then she didn’t have to confront those feelings. But he never let her pay for a weekend stay at the hotel he favored, and the only way she got to pay for one of their meals was by vulturing the waitress for the bill.

It frustrated the hell out of her, and she ended up getting a thorough spanking because of it. He felt she had been disrespectful when she was arguing with him about the bill, and that was all it took for her to earn a very unhappy trip across his lap.

So she’d learned to keep her feelings to herself, largely, although that didn’t mean that they had changed.

“If you live with me, you won’t have to worry about finances. You can just write.”

“I already don’t worry about them – there’s little enough there to be concerned about.”

“Well, if you came to stay with me, you really won’t have to.”

“No, regardless, our finances will be kept separate.”

He paused for a moment, then said smoothly, “All right. But I certainly would never let you starve, regardless.”

She chuckled warmly in his ear. “Not much chance of that! I could live off the fat of the land for quite some time . . .”

He was not laughing. He hated it when she put herself down. “You’ve got one coming for that, my dear.”

Maura stopped laughing immediately, cursing herself under her breath for forgetting. And she was going to be so good this week that he wouldn’t have any excuse to spank her when they got together –

not that he needed one . . .

“So when can I come up there and grab all your junk?” he asked, not willing to let the topic drop.

She sighed in a long-suffering manner. “I don’t remember agreeing to move in with you. Sheesh!

Were you a used car salesman in another life, or what?”

“Nah. I just don’t take ‘no’ for an answer very well, especially not from you. I much prefer to hear a meek ‘Yes, Sir’ out of your lips.”

Maura’s genitals clenched. Damn the man! “Well, regardless, this is still my decision, isn’t it?”

“Yes, it is.” He would never order her to do something like move in with him. He didn’t want her there, submitting to him, by coercion.

“Then I’m not ready to do it.”

“Yet,” he finished conclusively, with not a trace of doubt in his voice.

Reluctantly, she agreed. “Yet.”

“Okay, little lady. I’ll wait. I seem to be doing a lot of that with you . . . I must not be a very good dom.”

Simon never fished for compliments, but she bolstered his ego anyway. “You’re the perfect dom for me. Really.”

“Good. Now if I could just get you to move in with me.”

Maura sighed. “I have a feeling I’m going to be hearing a lot of that until I decide to do what you want, huh?”

He laughed softly. “You betcha. I like to get my own way, one way or the other.”

She whimpered, knowing that, in not agreeing today, she was merely forestalling the inevitable.

But, she reasoned, it would be good for him to wait some, so that he appreciated her when she finally capitulated.

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Which she did not too long after that – a couple of months or so, although you’d’ve thought by Simon that she’d made him wait for years. He had completely organized the move so that she didn’t have to do a thing or lift a finger. As a matter of fact, on the day of the move he threatened to put her into restraints so that she couldn’t touch anything – she had a lot of nervous energy and was trying to help the movers, but Simon finally caught her on his lap on one of the chairs on her front porch, forcibly holding her down while her whole life was packed up and carted away.

She hadn’t wanted to sell her house, which he completely understood, so he’d found her a reputable property management company and had them rent the place, with the firm understanding that it was to be kept absolutely pristine.

He even had someone come up and drive her car down. Maura had balked at that, wanting to drive her own car, but Simon had given her “the look”, saying that he wanted her company on the long ride down, and reassuring her that the man he’d gotten was an old friend, and that her car was in very good hands. And so would she be, if she didn’t put up a stink about her car. If she did . . . he’d trailed off, letting her fill in the blanks on her own, knowing she could do at least as good a job of imagining what he’d do to her if she continued to argue with him as he could.

The ride down was wonderful, she had to admit. They talked about a variety of subjects, and Maura again marveled about how well suited they were – they were both intelligent, inquisitive people, and they whiled away the time so quickly that she couldn’t believe it when he finally pulled past a huge security wall and gate and into his driveway.

Simon gave her the nickel tour, showing her the house and the pool – as well as giving her a talk about security that was so vehement that one would think they were discussing the president instead of a retired ex-government worker. And then he presented his baby – a 1964 Corvette Stingray, in silver blue.

It was obvious how much he adored that car by the way he touched it, and the look in his eye when he talked about it.

A car he was able to be effusive and emotional about. He could love it. But not a woman. Not even her, for all of their compatibility, in and out of bed.

It made Maura sad, because she knew he’d never talk about her that way.

He saved his bedroom for last. It was done in masculine colors, but was a very spacious room, with a specially made huge king-sized bed. Simon hated to be crowded in bed – but that seemed to be out the window with this woman, because he preferred that she sleep in his arms than anywhere else. But that was a first.

She was looking a little maudlin for some reason he didn’t understand, wandering around his room like a lost puppy. “The bathroom’s over here,” he reached in and lit the cavernous place as she walked past him, looking back and forth as if she was a tourist in New York City for the first time.

“Feel free to redecorate as you like. I don’t care what things look like. I just hired someone to decorate and turned them loose, and this was what I got. Otherwise, the boxes would still be here from when I moved in fifteen years ago.”