Authors: Vera Roberts
Would you like to have wax play done?
I’m not familiar with that term, my Lord.
Would you want race play?
Hell no, my Lord.
Would you do anything I ask, no questions asked?
Yes, my Lord. Submitting and pleasing You is all I need.
What are you afraid of?
You wouldn’t want me anymore and will find another.
Scott focused his attention on the last answer.
You wouldn’t want me anymore and will find another.
Mariana purposely didn’t say submissive or girlfriend and Scott understood she meant both. He couldn’t understand her insecurities and fears. She was all he needed and wanted so why would she think he would want someone else? After all the drama he went through with his family over the holidays? After proving the other McCormick and Sheppard employees wrong by hiring her for an internship? After spending both money and time cultivating her into the woman he knew she could be? Why on earth would she think he would break their bond and commitment for another submissive or partner?
Scott took a bite of his broccoli beef and leaned back in his chair. He realized why Mariana gave that answer. It was one word and three syllables:
Caprina.
T
WENTY-
T
WO
Caprina could remember the first time she tried Diet Coke. She was at a designer’s home and he hosted many models throughout the evening. Someone handed her a large mirror with several white lines on it. “Try some, ‘Prina,” they insisted, “you’ll love it. It’ll keep you thin.”
Caprina didn’t have a problem with her weight, but the modeling industry was so fickle, she didn’t want to chance anything. Another model handed her a rolled-up hundred dollar bill and instructed her in how to do it. “Hold the roll to your nose and just sniff the line. Do it fast, though.”
The young model quickly snorted the white powder and it burned going up her nose. She felt her eyeballs pop out and she wanted to blow her nose to get rid of the substance fast. “Uh-uh,” the other model shook her head, “you have to let it go through you to feel the effects.”
Within seconds, Caprina was hooked. She was floating on Cloud 9. A really, really high cloud. Every joke was funny. Conversations were more meaningful. She could hear songs better. Plus, she had a ton of energy to burn. She could probably jog around the block ten times without breaking a sweat, she imagined.
Ever since, Caprina kept a stash of cocaine on her at all times. She had her dealer’s number on speed dial and made weekly visits to see him. Well, not anymore. She’d send her two new assistants to do it.
She snorted another line and stared at herself in the mirror.
Wow, you are one sexy bitch,
she smirked. She still couldn’t understand what Scotty saw in Mariana. She was too young for him. Too immature. She was inexperienced. Scotty needed a woman—a real woman. Someone who could go toe-to-toe with him.
Caprina turned him on and turned him out. She was the one who had introduced him to
the lifestyle
. She was the one who had made him crawl around on his hands and knees, asking Her if he could do anything to please Her. She was the one who had made Scott wash Her car wearing nothing but Her heels and a thong, in the dead of winter. Scott had been lucky it was a typical Southern California winter.
She was finishing up a line when her security detail stood at her bedroom entryway. “Ms. Waters, your assistants from the agency arrived.”
“Great.” She wiped her nose and freshened up her hair. “Send them in.”
Within a few seconds, the women appeared before Caprina. One was a brunette with long hair. The other was a Black blonde. They were both curvy. “We’re here from the HoneyVine Agency,” the brunette spoke up, “we’re your new assistants.”
“You must be my new
slaves
,” she yawned.
The girls briefly looked at each other. “Yes, Ms. Waters,” The other assistant, the blonde, spoke up. She had a Caribbean accent.
“It’s Ma’am. You’ll address me as Ma’am,” Caprina corrected.
“Yes, Ma’am,” the pair said in unison.
“All right, what are your names?” Caprina asked.
“I’m Aileen,” the brunette replied.
“And I’m Dove.”
T
WENTY-
T
HREE
“Now, be careful when you take out the soufflé,” Moira instructed to the class as they watched her. “If it falls, it’s okay. It doesn’t mean you failed, per se. It just means it’ll be a flat soufflé.”
Mariana watched intently and took notes during her cooking class. She learned to make pasta, cheesecake, and meatballs. Tonight she was learning how to make a soufflé.
Several minutes later, Moira took out the soufflé and placed it on the countertop. “Tah-dah! A perfect soufflé.” The class clapped their hands in appreciation. “Thank you, thank you. Now it’s your turn! Get to soufflé-ing!”
Mariana went back to her station and quickly went to work. She followed the directions carefully and quickly whipped up the ingredients. She then put the soufflé mixture in the ramekins and placed them in the oven. Now all she had to do was watch and wait.
“How’s it coming, Mari?” Moira approached her.
“Just waiting for my soufflé, Mistress,” Mariana smiled. “I hope it doesn’t fall.”
“Well, if it does, you just have to try again. Not everyone gets it right on the first shot.”
“Yeah, I know but I’m not making it for me,” Mariana said shyly, “I’m making it for my Dom…erm…” Moira raised an eyebrow. “My boyfriend. I’m making it for my boyfriend.”
Moira leaned in closer to Mariana and whispered to her. “Safe. Sane. Consensual.” She moved onto another guest.
Mariana turned to her teacher and was stunned. She knew about
the
lifestyle
as well. Mariana wondered if Scott knew her.
****
Okay, that’s the fourth vase of roses I’ve seen, and I’ve been here for two hours. Where in the hell are mine?
Mariana tried to keep up a brave face on Valentine’s Day. Throughout the office, she saw women gushing about the roses and romantic plans their boyfriends and husbands had for them. Even the gay employees were swooning over the romantic gestures their partners were making for them.
And what did Mariana have to show for? Nothing. When she woke up that morning, she had hoped to see a little love note or breakfast laid out for her. Maybe Scott would wash her car since it was blanketed with dirt and grime. Or maybe Scott could leave some money for her for a shopping spree, and she could take the day off from her internship.
Instead, it was business as usual. Scott went to the gym and she went to her internship. There were no plans for a romantic evening, and Mariana didn’t dare to ask Scott what his plans were for them for Valentine’s Day. She didn’t want to be disappointed if the answer was negative.
Maybe she was being unfair. Scott did give her a Mercedes for Christmas, and he was going to propose to her soon. Why was it always the man’s job to make Valentine’s Day romantic? Why did he have to have all the pressure? Mariana had been taking those cooking classes for a while now, and she had become more confident in her skills. She started jotting down ideas. She was going to surprise Scott with a romantic home-cooked dinner that night.
“You look deep in thought,” Scott approached her.
Mariana was slightly startled and put down her pen. “I was making plans.”
“Making plans?” A slow smile formed on Scott’s face. “For?”
“You,” Mariana leaned back in her chair and folded her arms. “I’m going to cook you dinner tonight.”
“You don’t have to,” he replied.
“I want to,” Mariana held her ground. “Besides, it’s a romantic day. You work hard, and you would like to come home to a nice home-cooked meal, right?”
Scott smiled. “That would be nice, yes.”
“Well, good! I’ll have everything set up for tonight.” Mariana smiled.
“As you were, Ms. Harlow.” Scott smiled back.
“As you were, Mr. Reed.”
Scott went inside his office and Elissa followed closely behind him. “Is everything set up?” He asked her.
“Yes, sir!” Over the past few days, Elissa worked overtime trying to set up the romantic Valentine’s Day surprise Scott had for Mariana. For the first time in a while, Elissa was actually a little jealous of Mariana; her own husband wasn’t that romantic. “She will be surprised out of her mind at what you have planned for her.”
“Good, good. That’s exactly what I want.” Scott couldn’t stop smiling. He hated playing cold and uninterested to Mariana about any Valentine’s plans, but he was afraid he would say something to spoil them. It took a lot of effort to make it perfect, and he didn’t want anything ruined.
“I am surprised about one thing,” Elissa began.
“Hmm?”
“Mariachi?” She chuckled.
Scott shrugged. “Whatever my Queen wants, my Queen gets.”
****
It was already noon, and Mariana couldn’t wait to get away from the romantic atmosphere at work. No, it wasn’t work; it was a floral shop. It was beautiful to see so many people in love and gushing, but with no roses on her desk, Mariana felt the green-eyed monster showing through. She could’ve sworn she felt the whispers and looks of others who wondered why her desk was so empty.
“Are you ready for lunch?” Scott approached her.
“Um, sure. Just let me grab my purse and jacket.” Mariana grabbed her items and followed Scott to the parking garage.
“Before we go any further, put this on.” Scott handed her a blindfold.
Mariana firmly planted her feet on the ground to contain her bounce. So he did have something planned for her? “I just have one question: are we going back to New York?”
“No.”
“Where are we going?”
“You had only one question,” Scott smiled. “Slip on the blindfold and get inside.”
Mariana slightly frowned and put on the blindfold. She carefully got inside Scott’s car and he closed the door. He entered the driver’s side and started up the car. “Buckle up.”
“Yes, my Lord.” Mariana buckled up.
Scott pulled out of the parking lot and drove a long distance. Mariana could tell they were on the freeway and heard the other cars zip past them. Scott turned on some music and occasionally rested his hand on Mariana’s thigh. “Trust Me, My pet.” He promised.
Mariana lightly touched Scott’s hand with hers. “I do, my Lord.”
The drive was seemingly long, and Mariana was getting anxious, wondering what Scott was up to. Just when she was about ask, Scott suddenly stopped and turned off the car. He got out of the car and walked over to Mariana’s passenger side. “Unbuckle and grab my hand,” He instructed.
Mariana followed orders, carefully stepping out of the Maserati. She held tight to Scott and trusted him with where they were going since she couldn’t see anything. She could faintly smell the ocean air and wondered where she was.
After walking a short distance, Scott stopped walking. “All right, we’re here. Sit down carefully.”
Mariana could tell she was in grass. Were they at a park? What did he have planned for her? Was she overdressed? Was she underdressed? Her mind was racing a mile a minute.
Then it was silence. Scott didn’t say a word. In fact, Mariana wasn’t sure she knew where Scott was at the moment. Did he just up and leave her? He knows she hates it when he does that shit.
Where did he go?
“I’m right here, My pet.” Scott said behind her, as if reading her mind. “I just have to make a few finishing touches on something.”
“Okay, my Lord,” Mariana breathed a sigh of relief.
Scott stepped back and looked at his creation. He had hired a photographer just for the occasion. He wanted to remember it and possibly give his future son pointers on how to woo a woman. “Okay, you can start now,” He said it in Spanish to someone.
A Mariachi band started playing and Mariana turned her head to see where the noise was coming from. “Remove your blindfold, baby,” Scott called out to her.
Mariana took off the blindfold and was stunned. She was inside a large heart, shaped by multicolored rose petals. There was a picnic basket and lunch laid out for her with various fruits, cheeses, chocolates, finger sandwiches and champagne. In a nearby corner was a Mariachi band.
“You know what I really like for some strange reason?” Mariana once told Scott. “I really like Mariachi bands. I don’t know why.”
“So let me ask you,” Scott held out his hand and Mariana grabbed it, “when will you start trusting me?”
He pulled Mariana’s body close to his and swayed her to a love song. The balladeer sung out and the photographer snapped up pictures. “To my Lord, I give my submission. To my Lord, I give my devotion. To my Lord, I give my sex. To my Lord, I give my fears. To my Lord, I give my trust. To my Lord, I give my happiness. To my Lord, I give my everything. My Lord loves me and I love my Lord.” She replied back to him.
T
WENTY-
F
OUR
Caprina sat behind the judge’s table and got ready to see the designers and models present their creations. Had she known she would get paid an astounding amount just to be a reality competition judge, she would’ve done it a long time ago.
The first contestant worked her way down the runaway, and Caprina noticed her high heel booties. They were Jimmy Choos. The second contestant wore Roberto Cavalli on her feet. The third contestant wore Gucci, and the remaining contestants wore other designer shoes. As long as none of them wore Louboutins, Caprina didn’t care. She had even stipulated in her contract she was to be the only one to wear Louboutins.
Caprina noticed one contestant in particular who wore thigh-high, high-heeled boots. A slow smile grew on her face as she thought back to her times with Scott.
She made Scott walk around his home wearing a maid’s uniform and her high heels. He walked clumsily as he tried to adjust to the five-inch stilettos. He carried a feather duster and wore bright red lipstick.
Caprina was laid out in the sun, sipping on lemonade. She adjusted her designer frames on her face and became more comfortable in the sun. “Are you comfortable, slave?”