“Good.”
He closes the cabinet, locks it, and returns the key to his pocket. He sits on the corner of his desk and something about seeing him in this casual manner makes him seem younger. “How old are you?”
“How old do you think that I am?” he asks.
“I can’t decide. I’m back and forth on it.” His face looks young, but the gray hair and whiskers throw me off.
“I’m thirty-six.”
“Fourteen years older than me.” I guessed between ten and fifteen when I first saw him.
“I’m aware.”
“You have more gray hair than I’d expect for a thirty-six-year-old.”
“I have a fuck-ton of stress. I don’t figure that helps.”
I’m sure that he does have a lot of stress. “Probably not.”
“Is the gray hair a turnoff for you?”
I shake my head. “No.” His gray is actually a turn-on. It’s a beautiful contrast against his dark hair and light blue eyes. But I decide it’s best to keep that bit of information to myself.
“I want to talk about our relationship and expectations.”
“I do too.”
“You can do as you like when I’m at work. I understand that you have a life outside of this agreement, and there are things that you need to take care of. I don’t mind you leaving the house, but I want you to be available to me the minute that I walk through the door. To talk. To fuck. To suck my dick. Whatever I need in the moment. And if something should happen and you won’t be here when I come home, I want to know immediately. Never let me come home to an empty house without some kind of prior notice. I won’t tolerate that.”
He looks at me, saying nothing. Maybe waiting to see if I’ll argue. But I don’t.
“I will continue to choose your dress and the style of your hair and makeup before you come to dinner.”
“Why do you care anything about choosing my dress and hair and makeup?”
“You are beautiful but there are certain ways that I find you even more attractive. I like how you look in some dresses and colors over others. And I like seeing your hair styled in some ways more than others. But the real reason is that it gives me immense satisfaction when you obey my orders. It always goes back to control. You are my submissive, and I want to control everything about you.”
Sooo. Fucked. Up.
“There are times when I have to travel. You should expect to go with me. Do you have a passport if I need to go outside of the U.S.?”
“Yes.”
“Do you know where it is without having to search for it?”
“Yes.”
“Good. You’ll wear only the lingerie that I’ve given you. I chose every one of those pieces myself. I spent a lot of time over the last several weeks creating that collection especially for you.”
Despite the level of fuckery, something about that is very flattering and endearing. Makes me feel a little bit special that he would pull away from work to invest that kind of time in choosing anything for me. Even if he did it while he was planning my abduction. “All of it is lovely. Thank you.”
“I don’t sleep well. I often wake in the middle of the night. When I do, I like to fuck. It helps me go back to sleep. I don’t want to come to your bed and find you wearing anything that I did not choose for you.”
He’ll come to my bed? “I won’t sleep with you in your bed?”
“No. You’re never allowed in my bed unless I invite you. I’ll come to your bed and leave when we’re finished.”
Well, that’s weird, but I guess it takes some of the pressure away. “Understood.”
