Chapter 6 Doubts About What?
The whole of Monday, and the whole of Tuesday, I find myself watching David at the office. Trying to work it all out.
He matches with me on everything.
Sel has emailed me a copy of his responses. Every single question, his answers are perfectly aligned with mine, and of the (very) few that don’t, he's only one scale away from me.
He’s had the Dom/sub relationship before. He isn’t interested in Tickle Torture, but rates Wax Play highly. He ticks almost all the bondage subcategories, except mummification. Sensory Play, Impact Play, Worships, all on the high end as well.
Needles are a no. Knives are a maybe. Surprisingly, the circle he’s put around ‘Average’ for voyeurism/cuckolding seems different. The ink is lighter. As though he isn’t sure. Denial and Edging are also average for him. They aren’t average for me, but I have easily pushed clients my way in the past.
Sel is right. He is fucking perfect for me.
And now, sitting next to him at the office while I diligently type notes of the meeting I’m currently in, I find my eyes glancing over to him more than I usually do. Thinking about meeting him that evening. Thinking about what I would say.
The thought of submitting to him is intriguing me more and more. But then the thought of submitting to anyone after so long is something I’m struggling with. I try to wonder how it would look, and then suddenly, that’s all I can think about.
“Nora?” He whispers, the sudden closeness of his voice in my ear making me jump.
“Hmm?” I look around, seeing everyone else looking at me. “My apologies.”
I look back to my laptop and hurriedly start typing again, finishing off the sentence I’d apparently stopped writing.
He clears his throat.
“How about we take lunch? Come back at one.” He says to the rest of the group. He stays in his seat as the others file out of the room. When the door closes behind the last one, he swivels in his chair to face me.
“Are you okay?” He asks, his words littered with concern, his hand coming to rest on my thigh.
An innocent gesture. But it doesn’t seem so innocent now I know his Dom preferences.
“Yes, I’m sorry. I had a late night.” I reply as I rub my eyes.
It isn’t a lie, but I always have a late night, and I’m used to it by now. This time though, I had a late night because I was distracted.
And the thing that’s making me distracted is now grabbing my chair, and pulling it round so that I am facing him as well.
“You’ve been different for a few days now.” He comments with a tilt of his head. “Is something going on? Am I working you too hard?” He chuckles.
“Never.” I tease back. “It’s just something…personal. I’m sorry it’s affected my work.”
“You’re still the hardest working person here. Apart from me, possibly.” He smiles, and I feel myself wanting to smile back. “If you need a day off, just tell me.”
“I’m fine.” I reassure him. “I’m just going to get some coffee, I’ll be back to myself in no time, Dave.”
I force myself to act normal for the rest of the afternoon.
When I finally get home, I find that I can’t have my pre-evening nap because I’m busy staring at the ceiling, thinking over and over everything I’m going to say to him at the club, what he could say back.
Before I know it, I’m getting ready to head to the club.
Tonight I decide to wear a chemise, dark lace covering my nipples and pubic bone, the rest a sheer window to my skin. The top frames my chest with straps that cross over my collarbone up to my neck, and I have also slipped on some black hipsters underneath. I’m not known for walking around naked, and that isn’t going to change just for him.
Nico helps ensure my wig and mask are on right when I come to the bar. David is already waiting in Room 5, one that is used for the first meetings. It has a desk, with no chair behind it, but a chair in front of it, a set of drawers to the side, and a closet in the corner. The drawers and closet are filled with beginner toys, ones that workers use to ascertain levels of interest, ease the clients in. I’m not sure if I’m going to be using them tonight.
I make my way to the room.
I don’t miss the way his head turns instantly to the sound of me opening the door. The nerves flood through me as I close it behind me, as his eyes rake over my outfit. He goes to stand, but I hold a hand out, telling him to sit back down, and I walk slowly towards the desk.
I pick up the file that Sel left there earlier, and stand in between the front of the desk and him, smoothly lifting myself up so that I can sit on the wood, and crossing a leg over the other as I open the file, not even glancing at him.
“Does this mean you’ve accepted?” He asks, his voice cutting through the silence. I keep my eyes on the pages.
“It means I’m considering it. There’s still a lot to go through before I agree.” I reply calmly. “You were very thorough in your answers.”
“I wanted you to have no doubts.”
“Doubts about what?”
“What I’m interested in.”
I look up at him then, and it’s a big fucking mistake. He is staring at me, his eyes darker than usual, and I can tell that he just wants to grab me right then.
I tilt my head innocently, focusing back on the pages.
My teeth clench when I see in the preferences section, he’s crossed out the word ‘preference’ and just written ‘the Red Head with the mask. No exceptions.’
“Hard no’s are needles, genital torture, pony play and fluid play?” I ask, with a glance up at him. He nods. I scan back down the list. “Average is knives, denial… Your answer for voyeurism and cuckolding intrigues me.”
“How so?”
“The pressure of your pen changed.” I say in a matter-of-fact manner, smirking when his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Are you not certain of your views on that?”
He licks his bottom lip before answering.
“I’ve dominated someone before, but I’ve not done that before. I think it also differs based on what’s involved. Even if you agree, I’m not sure I’d want to watch you with other people.”
I close the file, holding it in one hand as I grip the desk, leaning forward towards him until I can take his tie in my hand, tugging him forward slightly, then sliding the material through my fingers as he looks up at me.
“Some people enjoy that, you know. Watching their sub being dominated by someone else, while you give them orders on how to please them the best.” I whisper in a smooth voice. “By that point, you’d know everything I enjoy, everything that makes me submit to you completely, and you could see if I do it just as easily for someone else. And you could punish me if I don’t.”
By the time I stop speaking, his mouth has parted, and his eyes are solely focused on my lips.
I smile, then release his tie and lean back, opening his file again, and picking up the pen from the desk. I make a note of changing his score to a higher one as we both fall into silence.
“What would you include in Worship?” I ask.
“What do you mean?” He asks back, in a growl this time as I watch him shift in the chair.
“You rate it highly, so I’m interested in what parts of worship you enjoy. Kneeling? Certain body parts?”
“I took it more as me worshipping you.”
“In what sense?”
“I could show you.” He smirks, moving to sit up.
I place my foot on his shoulder and push him back.
“Tell me.” I order. While I am considering submitting to him, I’m so used to being the dom, and I’m intrigued on how he’d respond to it.
His response involves him smiling wickedly at me, and then running his hand around my ankle. I hold his gaze, my face a lot calmer than my stomach is at that moment.
“I’d like to worship you doll.” He explains. It makes my core throb. His hand slides up my leg towards my knee.
“It would be your reward, for being a good girl.” He continues, moving to the floor, pulling my leg so that it rests over his shoulder as he moves his mouth closer to my bare skin, his lips grazing me as he slowly inches forward.
My breaths get shallower as I just watch, watch him gently push my other leg slightly, his eyes locked on mine as he gets closer and closer to me.
I swallow the lump in my throat and grab his jaw, guiding him to stand up in front of me, denying myself the touch that he’s so clearly willing to give me. He towers over me as he stands, watching me for the next instruction.
“Have I passed your little test yet?” He whispers.