“But you will. You
wouldn’t miss the opportunity for all the money in the world.”
“What makes you so sure of yourself,
Bridget?” She smiled and discreetly licked her lips with the tip of
her tongue. She took his hand.
“You’ve been searching for a dominant woman
your entire life, one who would take complete control of you,” she
said in a low, even tone, “a strong, beautiful woman, who would
completely dominate you, in every facet of your life.” Nathan
winced in pain as his cock throbbed, pinched inside his pants. He
started to gasp and checked himself, taking in slow shallow
breaths. “Your marriage fell apart because your wife didn’t give
you the structure you needed.” She squeezed his hand. “I will.” The
sharp pain stabbed Nathan beneath his sternum again as he stared
into Bridget’s pale, blue eyes.
*****
He muscled the valet out of the way to hold
her door, noticing the wry smile on her face illuminated by the
dome light. He tried not to think about anything, as he slid into
the passenger seat and buckled his seatbelt. “We’re going to my
home, in Dupont Circle. You’re going to spend the night with me,
Nathan.” She looked straight ahead as she sped up New Hampshire
Avenue and around Dupont Circle. “If I’m right, you’ll be spending
a lot of nights with me, serving me, and doing my bidding.” She
turned left on Swann Street and turned into the only private
driveway on the block. She waited for him to open her door and
walked up the wrought iron stair to the back door, as automatic
security lights illuminated their path. She handed him her keys.
“It’s this one.” He unlocked the heavy wooden door and pushed it
open.
She walked in ahead of him. He followed her
like a puppy through the kitchen to a large living room. Nathan
studied the furniture, Persian rugs, grand piano, and oil
paintings. Bridget Kelly’s clients were paying her well. Nathan
instinctively stood by the couch as she closed the blinds. The
house smelled clean, of lavender and beeswax. She opened a liquor
cabinet and handed Nathan an ice bucket. “There is a dispenser on
the freezer door.” Nathan half-filled the insulated bucket. Bridget
poured one tumbler. “Undress, Nathan. I’ll keep you naked when
we’re alone.” She said it so matter-of-factly, that he stood there
like a deaf mute, staring at her. She sipped her Scotch. “I have
many virtues, Nathan.” The glint in her eyes sent a chill up his
back. “Patience isn’t one of them.”
“Why should I do what you say and get
undressed?” he asked half-heartedly.”
“Because I said so, Nathan; because that’s
what I want.” She looked down at his swollen penis bulging in his
pants. “By the look of your cock, you want it too.” Nathan drew in
a deep breath. There wasn’t enough air in the room. “Take off your
clothes, now.” There was no anger in her voice, only quiet
determination. He stared at her as he removed his suit coat and
laid it on a chair. He removed his tie and unbuttoned his shirt
quickly, with quiet, practiced movements. He started to sit to
untie his shoes.
“Stop,” she said in the same even tone. “You
may not sit on the furniture without my permission.” Nathan
swallowed the lump in his throat and bent to untie his shoes. He
stepped out of them as Bridget sat back and crossed her long,
shapely legs. He removed his trousers and stood for a moment,
feeling ridiculous in boxer shorts and socks, with his stiff cock
protruding like a tent pole. “Everything Nathan,” she whispered. He
pulled off his socks, pushed his shorts off his hips, and stepped
out of them.
His face burned hot as he met her gaze. Her
cool eyes sparkled with amusement as he stood there naked and fully
erect, his pulse pounding in his ears like a tympani. She stood and
approached him, slowly swishing her tumbler of Scotch in a lazy
circle. He broke free from her gaze and looked at the floor,
staring at her black, five-inch pumps, as she moved
Eric J. Guignard (Editor)