Chapter 38

Ira

These meetings will be the death of me. Death by boredom. Even with Kathleen sitting next to me, looking like a yellow diamond sparkling in the harsh ultraviolet lights.

It's Wednesday. Do you know what that means?

Her pencil taps against the table, to the point I've had to covertly reach over and stifle the sounds with my hand multiple times. Each time she blushes. Any other day, and she wouldn't blush, but she knows what's happening tonight.

Tonight, we begin the next phase of our relationship.

My mind is at odds with my body. My mind knows that this is more about her needs and wants than my own. Yet my body is so hot on the idea of bending her over, tying her hands behind her back, and making her scream the word Mistress that I've been hiding my flustered face all day.

Fuck her. Fuck me. Shit, I'm sure we'll get around to it today.

She doesn't need to be so nervous, though. The collar is sitting in my condo, waiting to be placed around her neck – with her permission, of course. I'm not starting the scene until that happens. For now, it's her and me as we always are. Yet I'm sure it's not that simple in her mind.

Her cunning mind that is really not on its game today.

Of course, this does not look good in front of the Anderssens, who are ready to sign on the dotted line that would transfer ownership of The Ace over to the Mathison family. Good thing Kathleen isn't officially part of the buy.

Do you know who is?

The woman crashing the meeting, her coiffed hair tangling in her earrings without a care.

My mother was not invited to this meeting. Yet there she is, sitting across from Kathleen and me, her eyes darting between us with the goofiest smile on her face. I look to my father, who tightens up and clears his throat. He won't meet my eyes.

The gabby bastard. What was it, Dad? Did your ex-wife grab you by the gonads as she always does and demand to know what I've told you about my love life recently?

Is this how she keeps finding out about me? The papers my ass! See if I tell my father shit again.

Kathleen stiffens so hard that I think she might be turning into a piece of wood. I graze my hand against her knee beneath the table and feel her relax. This isn't going to get any easier with both of my parents making fools out of themselves.

The Anderssens don't notice and continue the meeting with both of our lawyers present.

By the end of the meeting, I feel like the only thing that's been accomplished is finding out that my parents know. What I don't anticipate is what my mother says to me after the meeting, when we're alone in the half-destroyed lobby of The Ace with the signs of protestors still marching back and forth across the street.

"I had the loveliest talk with Kathleen on Monday," she says in a low, cheerful voice. "You'll never guess what she told me about you and her…"

Oh, I can guess. I can guess to the point I'm glaring at the back of Kathleen's French twist without any regard for who sees me doing it. Like my mother.

"Don't be that way." She pats me hard on the shoulder. "You take care of that sweet girl so she doesn't run away screaming from you. I want no fewer than two grandkids. I want a grandson with the dark curls you used to have, and a granddaughter with blond locks like hers! I want mini-yous! Now, how you two go about that is up to your preferences. And science of course. Money will be no object!"

I'm going to throw up.

"I don't think this is the best time to discuss this," I say through gritted teeth. "If you only came here to talk about Kathleen, I'm afraid you picked a terribly poor time. I'm here to work."

Standing up to your mother's meddling is a dangerous thing. Especially when she has a reputation for being notoriously meddlesome. Just ask my father.

Just ask Kathleen, apparently!

My mother finally makes her grand exit a few minutes later, stopping to whisper something in my father's ear. The man glances at me straight away, and I know it's not good.

He gives me an apologetic look. He's the only man who knows better than I do what a handful Carolyn Graham-Mathison can be. A handful of money, but a handful, nonetheless.

Once most of the company is gone, I steal some time to approach Kathleen and lightly touch her shoulder. She's talking to her assistant before the girl goes home for the evening, so now is as good a time as any.

"See you later," I whisper into her ear. Kathleen shudders beneath my breath, but she does not change the power in her voice as she speaks with those around her. Good. I prefer her like this when we're in public.

We're not leaving together. We're having dinner separately, and then meeting at my place later. She needs to go home and change, anyway.

I sent her very specific instructions on what to wear again. What can I say? Part of being a Domme is dressing up your sub. Not everyone does that, but I get a kick out of it. Seeing her dressed up as I want her… it's part of the fantasy, the eroticism.

Now it's also a part of her training.

I go home, alone, after seeing Vivian off with her husband and kid who came to pick her up. Usually, I walk to The Ace since it isn't too far away from my condo, but this morning it was raining so I brought my car.

Take-out is my dinner. While I eat, I run around my home, cleaning things up and attempting to set some ambiance. Kathleen is… delicate. Even when we weren't being kinky, she was still hesitant when we had sex last time. So I need to step up my romantic game.

Just because I'm training her, pushing her boundaries, and turning her into a new person she's never met before… doesn't mean it can't feel romantic!

More candles. More mood lighting. More of me fighting back my fantasies because I can't stop thinking about her bending over my bed, pulling up her skirt and exposing her ass to me for a hard spanking.

The more I think about that, the more incensed I become. She needs to be punished.

She told my mother about us.

She needs to be punished.

Kathleen's sitting in my living room, perched on the edge of the couch. She sat there on her own. I told you, she's not wearing the collar yet. She doesn't have to obey any commands under pain of just retribution.

I kinda wish she was.

She's turned down a glass of wine. I ask her again if she wants one. It would be a good idea to have some alcohol to relax before we begin.

Instead, I'm doing all the relaxing.

Hey, I get it. I'm being myself. We're in my home, on my turf. It's Katie who has to psych herself up and get into the mood. So when I sit beside her and press my wineglass to her lips, urging her to have a sip, she finally relents.

I kiss her shoulder. Her bare shoulder.

She dressed as I asked. "Dress like you were doing a scene as a Domme."

Kathleen's black corset is stitched with bright red ribbons. It pushes up her breasts, and when she moves quickly, they jiggle in such an enticing way that I can barely restrain myself from kissing them. Black garters run down her legs and into a pair of lace-up boots. To my delight, her corset has an easy-access place where I can get to her wet slit without having to completely disrobe her or attempt to pull fabric out of the way so I can fuck her.

Her hair is up in that lovely twist. Immaculate. Stunning with tiny black beads laced between her strands of golden hair. Her long neck looks even longer without jewelry adorning it. Although she is wearing those dangling earrings, per my request. There's something about them that is so regal.

It's probably the way they jangled against her skin the last time I drove my fingers into her from behind. That's going to happen again tonight. So help me…

What I love most is the low-cut jacket she's wearing on top of all this. Any sub can look like she does in a corset. Yet it's a Domme like her who is going to sport the tight, crisp fabric currently covering her. I know I said her shoulder was bare. That's because during our time tonight I've already managed to pull down a part of the sleeve and kiss her perfumed skin.

She's trembling. Not in pleasure.

"Are you nervous, my darling?"

Kathleen nods.

"I understand."

The harsh judgment of her blue eyes pierces into my soul. "Do you?" She takes a deep breath and looks away again. "I'm sorry. I know I'm asking for this. It's not fair to you."

"Unfair? Hardly. You can't help how you feel." I get up, giving her some space to breathe as I traverse my condo in search of her present. "But I do understand that our blurred lines aren't helping you any. Just the other night you kept fearing I was going to try Topping you. That's why I propose something."

I bring the thin box over and sit next to her again. Her hand in mine, I present the trinket I picked out for her.

She studies the box. She knows where it came from.

"Jewelry." Her quaint voice almost amuses me. "How original."

"Open it, Katie."

I feel like she's humoring me at this point. Nonetheless, when she pops the lid off and sees exactly what I've chosen, her throat tightens and her breasts nearly heave out of her corset. "A collar…"

The fear is palpable. I put a gentle hand on the small of her back in the hopes of reassuring her. "I didn't buy it lightly, Katie. I bought it because we need it."

It drops into the box. "Do we?"

Tears threaten the corners of her eyes. I kiss her shoulder again, holding her tight in my embrace. "Take a deep breath, love. I wanted to get you something not to ‘collar' you, like you're thinking, but to help you transition your headspace. We need a signal. A physical one."

She looks at me, hopeful, but still doubtful.

I hate seeing her like this. I want my vivacious Katie, the one who is self-assured and not afraid to speak her mind, even if she's subbing. That's the point I want to reach with her. I want her to obey during a scene, but I want her to want to obey. There is no joy in it otherwise. She needs to get off on obeying me as much as I get off on telling her what to do.

"You will wear this only when we're training. That way, when we're on a normal date, you don't have to worry I'm going to pull something without permission… because you're not wearing the collar. I won't Top you unless this collar is around your neck. You get it?"

She fingers the chain between two buffed nails. "Yes. Thank you."

I'm not expecting that. "For what?"

"For thinking this through. I know you're not a malicious person, Ira. I wouldn't be doing this if I thought that about you, but it's good to know that you understand me to an extent. It makes me… feel better."

Her tight muscles relax beneath my hand. I rub them, hoping she'll relax even more. "I'm not going to put this on you yet. We need to discuss a few other things first." I hold up a glass. "Finally care for some wine?"

She accepts.

I hold her close to me as I bring up some sensitive, not-so-fun subjects. I want her to sense my warmth, any gentleness I exude while my thoughts are plagued with how she's dressed and what I'm going to do to her tonight – and how much I hope she'll love it.

What I hold in my hand now is a contract. We discussed it on the phone a couple of times, but until now I don't think she ever thought I would present her with an actual Dom/sub contract. The one night I spent writing this up was more somber than I anticipated. I briefly longed for the times when I could pick up a partner who knew what she wanted and loved serving in the bedroom.

There's not much unique about this contract. It's simple. When the collar is on, she is subservient to me. She has to do what I tell her, otherwise she will be punished. This is a part of her training. This is meant to help her embrace her submissive state of mind. The only way that can happen is with hard rules.

In return, she's given me her hard limits over the past few days. No gagging so she feels powerless to say her safe word. No suffocating. No filming and no recording of any kind. What happens in the room stays in the room – something she should have thought of before telling my mother we're seeing each other. Surprised the woman hasn't shown up here yet, trying to catch us in the act.

The last thing I show her is brand new. Something I only thought of last night.

"I'm giving you two safe words. Pink is still one of them, but that will only tell me that you're hesitant or getting nervous. I'll slow down or change course, but I'm not going to stop."

Her eyes widen.

"If you do want me to completely stop and pause the scene, say Red. Do you understand both words?"

She probably thinks I'm talking to her like a child, but she nods anyway.

I can already see it. Kathleen doesn't realize she's radiating it, but everything about her eyes, her body language says submissive. Except it's not the kind that gets me off.

I have my work cut out for me tonight.

"Are you ready?" I hold up the collar, the chain clinking between my fingers. "Once I put this on, our scene begins. Unless you say your word, it will continue until I decide it's over."

Kathleen averts her gaze for a split second, but it's long enough for me to feel her doubt. My hand clasps on top of hers.

Why won't you believe me, Katie? Why won't you believe that I have your best interests in my heart? That I want to make you feel so good that you don't know where you are anymore? It's not only about my ego. It's about yours as well. I want to make you feel like a spoiled princess. I want to hear your voice trill as I give you so much physical and emotional pleasure. I want to make you come so hard that you're not just begging for me to give you more, but you're begging yourself to take even more. You know as well as I do that this lifestyle is about letting yourself go to your innermost fantasies. You clearly harbor some. As flattered as I am that you've chosen me to help you see them through… well…

"Before we do this," I say, cupping her face in my hands, "I need to hear that you trust me. Unconditionally."

I kiss her before she can respond. A light kiss. A reminder that I care about her.

She's smiling, albeit wanly, when I pull my lips away.

"Do you remember how nice it felt last Friday?"

"Of course I do."

"Whenever you start to feel nervous, think of me from then. That's the me lurking behind everything I do."

The collar dangles from my hand and rests on her shoulder. She looks at it, then me.

"I trust you," she whispers. "I trust you to be patient and give me exactly what I need."

"I'm not giving you what you need, my sweet." I loop the collar around her throat, although I don't latch it yet. "I'm taking you apart and building you back up again. I'm purging your mind of everything you ever thought you knew. When I'm done with you?" The clasp latches, and she gasps, knowing that she's mine. "You'll be a whole new Kathleen."

Her breath stills in her chest.

"You'll be the Kathleen that you always wanted to be."