Sexy as Hell Box Set (30 page)

“Fuck. Who’d have thought meek little Helen had it in her to be so deceitful?” Ollie raised his eyebrows.

“I don’t know all the details, don’t want to, but I think that’s what you call lying of the extreme variety.” I shrugged, thankful that there was no pain coming from the Helen corner of my heart.

Ollie seemed to guess this. “The lying is shocking, yes, but does that bother you, the ex thing?”

“Oddly, not as much as I imagined it would, especially considering I know the man.” I went on to explain the whole sorry mess—Helen running off with a man she would once have called a pervert. Her wearing the dog collar, and Geoffrey thwacking his cock on top of her head.

“Helen?” Ollie asked, frowning hard. “Your Helen? You sure you didn’t spy on the wrong couple? You said she liked it in the dark, missionary.”

Did I? Must have been a few pints in that night. “Not a chance.” I sighed. “It was definitely her. Seems she’d wanted a dominant man all along, and I’d been too damn submissive for her. Now I’ve got a woman who wants me to be submissive, I’ve got the bloody urge to be dominant. I’m losing women by being the opposite of what they want me to be.”

“Shouldn’t be pandering to them anyway,” Ollie said. He sipped a goodly amount of brandy. “Maybe that’s where you’re going wrong. Wanting to please them instead of being who you are and pleasing yourself. Perhaps that way you’d keep ‘
em keen.”

Ollie’s brand of pleasing himself was to be an utter wanker and take what he wanted, when he wanted it. I dreaded him latching onto Zara after we’d parted ways. He’d only have to nip to the coffee shop every day and he’d catch her there at some point…

Stop it. Don’t damn well torment yourself.

“I can’t be like you,” I said. “So, what the hell should I do?”

“No idea, mate. She’s like an untamed horse by the sounds of it, this Zara. Bridle her and she’ll rear up on you and then bolt. You’ll be left broken and eating dirt, and when that happens, don’t say I didn’t warn you.” He finished off his drink, grimacing at what I guessed was the throat burn. “You should just end it now, while you’re still in one piece. Find someone more in your league who you can control.”

I held in a sharp retort. Because Ollie’s advice might actually be good advice if I’d told him the whole story, but he didn’t know Zara had been willing to submit, that she was willing to do so tonight and allow me to take that control he’d just mentioned. Which turned everything he’d just said—and I liked to think from the goodness of his heart—into a load of crap.

Zara and me finish it, now? That wasn’t going to happen, and I’d soon see if she’d bolt, all right. My hand whacking her arse would see to that. And if she did rear and gallop away, well, that collar she was still wearing would bring her straight back to me.

Fifi
glared at me in the way only she could and get away with it—as though I’d come from another planet and had just spoken a load of gibberish.

“What bit didn’t you understand?” I asked, watching her swivel from side to side in the chair behind the reception desk. “The part where he told me he wanted to be a Master, or the bit where I think I’m getting a bit too fond of him for my liking?”

“The last part. I thought you said—”

“Yes, yes, I know what I
said.
” I flapped my hand so she wouldn’t speak. “But what I’ve said and what’s happened—is happening—is another bloody matter. I need to cut him loose, before it gets too serious. Even more serious.” I paced back and forth, fingertips to my bottom lip. “The trouble is, I can just see myself hanging out in his damn penthouse, maybe changing this job, and that isn’t something I thought I’d ever say. And as for Geoffrey…”

“What about him?”

I stopped and stared at her. “Oh, God, I forgot to tell you that bit.”

After I had, and
Fifi had calmed down from shrieking and slapping the desk every time I’d revealed something new, she said, “Well, what do you know? Geoffrey being a Dominant. All right, I’m guessing he’s certainly like it in everyday life, so I can see him in that role, but after what you’d told me he was like in the bedroom, what he’d expected you to do…” She shook her head. “Wonders will never cease. It’s a funny old world, isn’t it? Just when you think you know someone, just when you think you know
yourself
…”

“And that’s the thing. I thought I knew myself. But what about
me
switching?” I asked, yanking down Victor’s scarf and revealing the dog collar. “And what do you make of
this?
”

“Oh, bloody
hell!
” Fifi shrieked again, and got up ready to fling herself at me.

“Don’t,” I said. “It doesn’t mean what you think it means. It’s just for…effect, to make him feel he’s really
Masterish. It was for a scene.”

“
Masterish! A scene!” She plonked herself back down and roared with laughter. “I don’t know who you’re trying to kid, Zara, me or yourself.”

“What, you think I’m lying? You think I like wearing this thing?”

“If you hated it you’d take it off.”

“I can’t. You know the rules. If I take it off without his permission, I’ll be teaching him wrong. I want him to know how to do things the right way; otherwise, all these nights of training him will have been for nothing.”

“Can I just say that with the right man, anything is possible, Zara. You just hadn’t met him until your virgin came along.” She frowned. “So tell me, what exactly
is
the problem again?”

I shook my head. “Oh, no. It isn’t that simple.”

“It’s as simple as you make it. Or as difficult. Sounds like you’re going for the latter to me. What the hell is your issue? Why have you got this fear of a relationship? And don’t say you haven’t, because it stands out a mile.”

“Does it? How did you know? Do other people know?” I didn’t want my rock-hard
Domme persona shattered. If people thought I had a softer side, well, that could lead to all sorts of trouble in the shows. Carlos might not behave himself, for one, and Julie—she wouldn’t tolerate me being submissive when we acted together. But was that what I’d been doing all this time? Acting?

“I know you a little better than the others, that’s all.”
Fifi smiled. “Don’t panic, no one else thinks you’re anything but a hard-nosed, fearless Domme. That’s why, when they’ve been gossiping, they can’t believe that you’ve agreed to
teach
your virgin for such a long stretch of time. No one knows you’ve fallen in love with him, and they don’t need to know either.”

I bristled. “I didn’t say I’d fallen in
love
with him, woman, just that I had feelings for him. I can see us being friends once his lessons are over. Nothing wrong with that, is there?”

She thought about that for a second or two. “But how will you handle seeing him with someone else? Isn’t that what you’re training him for?”

I shrugged, ignoring the clawing fingers of jealousy in my gut. “It’s what has to happen. I can’t afford to be all lovey-dovey. Geoffrey was as close as I ever got to really caring about a man, and look what happened there. No, Victor’s got to go. I’ve been seeing him just under a week, and if this is how I feel now, imagine the whole month. Okay, I’ve made a decision. I’m going to let him do that spanking business on me tonight, then tomorrow evening I’ll invite him here to watch the Swedes. That’ll be the last time I see him.”

“You’re being foolish, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Yes, I do mind. I don’t like being called foolish when I’m being sensible.”

“You care about him, and I could see even from the first time I met him he’s sweet on you. Are you going to pass him up for what, a life being a
Domme? You can get too old for this job, you know. What will you do then?”

“Open my own place,” I said, backing up to the door. “Yes, I’ll do what Victor did and build my own business so I never have to worry about paying the rent or relying on someone else to pay me.”

Fifi nodded. “Like the banks lend money willy nilly for places like this one. And if you get lucky and they do, you can open your own place on one condition.”

“What’s that?” I asked, reaching for the door handle. I’d had enough of
Fifi’s so-called sensible advice.

“That you let me come and work for you. This place, it’s all well and good, but it lacks that certain…well, that certain glamour, know what I mean?” She glanced over at the door that led to the rooms. “It comes off as a bit sleazy here.”

I nodded, seeds of a new beginning nestling in the fertile mud of my mind. I should concentrate on finding premises, securing a business loan, and then I wouldn’t have time to think about Victor at all, or trawl the coffee shop for one-night stands. Being too busy for sex might not be a bad thing, and besides, I could always wank.

“I’m going to bloody do it,” I said. “You mark my words, I’ll be a business woman yet and, of course, I’ll take you with me.”

I turned away from Fifi with a wave of goodbye and opened the door, stepping out and banging straight into Carlos.

“Mistress, thank goodness. Are you all right?”

“Yes,” I said breezily. “Why ever wouldn’t I be?”

“The virgin,” he whispered, glancing inside over my shoulder. “He was very angry, Mistress.”

I laughed, a false tinkle, and swatted his chest. “Oh, don’t be daft. He was fine. Now, I must explain something…” I indicated with a jerk of my head that he stay with me outside—I didn’t need Fifi knowing Victor had caught Carlos flogging me. That would send her busy little brain into overdrive, and goodness knew what she’d start advising me then!

Closing the door, I gestured for him to walk with me to the car park. “Look, Victor got the wrong idea about earlier. Like I said to him—and I would have explained it to you afterwards, if I’d had the chance—I have a new idea for a show…”

Once I’d finished telling him, Carlos treated me to one of his satisfied smirks. “I shall look forward to that, Mistress. Very much, but I don’t think any amount of flogging would make me say my safe word.”

“I thought you’d like it, but we shall see about the safe word. I aim to have you screaming it,” I said as we reached my car. “Now, I don’t want any of the others knowing about it—or about Victor finding us. I feel we need to be a bit more edgy when we do a show together, and I don’t want any of the others stealing our idea.”

“I won’t tell a soul, Mistress.”

I nodded once. “Good. So, now I know what it feels like to be flogged, I should be able to deliver a better set of strikes to you, and I know how much you like them.” I winked and unlocked my car. “We’ll practise again in a couple of days, all right? I’ll have lots of free time then.”

“Whatever you want, Mistress.”

Carlos walked off, and I got inside my car and sat there after closing the door. I’d lied to
Fifi, to Carlos, and worst of all, I’d lied to Victor. It would have been so simple to explain what I’d been playing at earlier, letting my slave flog me, but it would have been tantamount to admitting a weakness. Lying had seemed the better option at the time. Weakness I didn’t ever want to entertain again in my life. I’d done enough of that already.

So why did the aftertaste of those lies still sit on my tongue, bitter and lingering, like a large acrid ball—one that wouldn’t go down no matter how many times I tried to swallow it?

* * * *

I spent the afternoon at home writing notes on what kind of premises I’d need and how much money it would take to get my new business off the ground. I had so many contacts who could help me, that finding staff and the people who supplied certain off-the-wall fixtures and fittings wouldn’t be a problem. A large warehouse split into several rooms would be worth considering for the venue. The only stumbling block would be the money.
Fifi had been right when she’d said about the bank not giving me a loan. How did I walk in there and tell the manager…

Bank manager…

I jumped up from the sofa and went to my handbag, rummaging around inside for my little black work book. I had two of them—one for my private life and one for clients. When I’d first started in this business, I’d done extra bits and bobs on the side. Never any sexual contact, just a bit of whipping here and there on the quiet. It had helped get me out of the little bit of debt I’d had hanging over my head and hadn’t hurt anyone except the clients—but that’s what they’d been paying me for.

Inside the work book were several names of people who really could do without having their wives told about their extra-marital activities. Oh, I wouldn’t actually tell a wife, but to hint I would might just get me what I wanted.

I blushed at my tenacity, at how it seemed when I wanted something badly I’d go all out to get it. Just a shame I couldn’t apply that to having a proper relationship with Victor. I scanned the names, hating myself a bit for what I was about to do but knowing it was a means to an end. Little white lies didn’t count, did they?

Jabbing the numbers into my phone, I waited for the line to connect and the ringing to begin. When it did, my stomach rolled over and I tried to swallow. Those lies from earlier were still there, and the ball was going to get bigger by the end of this call.

“What do you want?” the man whispered upon answering. “I told you not to ring me anymore.”

“I don’t want anything like you’d imagine, slave,” I said, purposely making my voice harsh.

The meaner I was to this man, the quicker he’d cave. He thrived on being bossed around in the extreme.

“Look, I told you a long time ago I had to stop this tomfoolery, and now you’ve rung me and set me off again. Just seeing your name flash up on the screen, knowing you were thinking of me.” His voice had held a tremble. “God, Mistress. When are you available?”

“Now,” I said. “Shall I come to you?”

“Yes, but remember, business attire.”

I snapped my phone closed. Yes, I remembered. Business attire.

I raced into my bedroom and stripped, then riffled through my wardrobe for my red three-piece skirt suit. He’d been particularly fond of the waistcoat, for some reason. After dressing—red lacy underwear and black stockings beneath my clothes—I slipped on some black, seven-inch-high shiny stilettos with very thin heels. I scraped my hair back into a severe bun that permanently lifted my eyebrows, dabbed on some makeup. In the living room, I grabbed my bag then left my place. It didn’t take long to drive to where he was, and as I strode through the large foyer, my heels tapping on the shiny tiles, I breathed deeply.

Money. There was nothing like that scent.

I breezed up to the main desk and announced myself to a Mary-lookalike, giving the name I’d always used before.

“Yes, Mrs Pennworth-Smythe, so lovely to see you again,” Mary-Clone said.

I nodded, gave her a condescending smile, and followed her through a doorway beside her desk then down a long corridor.

“Mr Wainsborough had quite forgotten to tell me of your appointment,” she said over her shoulder. “The poor man hasn’t been himself for the past couple of years, you know. Since around about the time you were last here, as a matter of fact.”

“Oh, what a terrible
shame!
” I said in a posh voice that didn’t belong to me.

“Here we are then,” the receptionist said. She knocked on the door. “In you go.”

I waited for her to retreat down the corridor before I opened the door and stepped inside. Mr Wainsborough wasn’t in plain view, but that was okay, I knew exactly where he’d be. I strode to his desk and found him naked on his hands and knees, a squash ball wedged in his mouth. He looked at me with watery blue eyes, his white-grey hair flopping over his sweat-riddled forehead. I opened my jacket to reveal the waistcoat. He whimpered. I hoisted my skirt up, bunching it at my waist to reveal my knickers. He snorted out breaths through his nose.