It took her a while to figure out that a sock duct taped over the end of the vacuum hose would suck up the note without ingesting it. With a triumphant roar, she clutched the note high over her head in a victory fist pump that almost caused her drop the fucking thing again.
Carefully she came off the couch, then smoothed the note on the dinette.
That was fun, and obviously wore you out. You were sleeping while I showered, so I have gone back home. Where the key is.
If you want release (in every sense of the word!), clean your room (I can’t believe it’s still that messy!) and then dress yourself.
I’ll meet you at the club tonight at 7.
She paced around the room. He demanded for her to clean her room? Grrr. She paced to the bedroom door and saw the chaos that still existed there. Okay, he had a point. She was normally quite fastidious but these last 36 hours or however long it had been, had been trying at best. It aggravated her no small amount that he, the disorderly King of the office, had called her out on her space. Galling. That was the word. He was full of gall, and he was pushing it to the max. Looking at the lingerie and dresses scattered hither and yon in her room, she kind of didn’t blame him for it, though. It was appalling in here.
She stepped into the room and scooped up a red bra, folding it neatly and putting it in the drawer where it belonged. A pale pink chemise was right by her foot; she quickly hung that in her closet. Hopefully some of the wrinkles would hang out before she needed to wear it again. She moved from item to item, lost in the bliss of transforming the mess into her sanctuary. How happy it was to touch all her pretty things…
She paused, fingers stilled on the black bustier.
Dammit. He knew exactly how to flip her switch from annoyance to …this. She had to admire a guy that knew how to do that…and still keep her feeling frustrated. In every sense of the word, she mouthed, quoting his note as she rolled her eyes.
In less than an hour, her room was tidy, and she found exactly what she would wear to the club. It was daring. It was dangerous. And if it got him to unlock the hated belt, it would be worth it.
“I saw you leave with the new girl,” Mammala leaned across the bar, pushing a beer towards him.
“She’s…something. Not sure what, but…”
“But she’s got her hooks in my boy already? Do I need to worry about this smooth operator?”
He grinned, his face boyish for a moment.
“Mamma, you know you don’t. I’m more hooked on her that she is on me…and that’s on me. She’s my new ‘girl Friday’ at work, and” he paused, taking a sip of the beer. Shaking his head he continued.
“I just don’t know. There’s something about her.”
“She got you. She got you baaaad, boy.”
He held up the small silver key which he wore on a string around his neck.
“Yeah, that’s true. But I have her, too.”
Mammala threw back her head and laughed lustily. She hadn’t run a D/s club for all these years without knowing what that little key went to. She would have to spend some time out in the playroom to watch this all go down, that was for certain. With a last chuckle, she tapped his hand, before moving down the bar.
He sat in the far corner at a small table where he could see the comings and goings of people at the main entrance. At 7:02 she came through, bundled up against the evening chill, a light scarf around her throat. She seemed taller, so he imagined that stiletto’s were strapped around her ankles. He leaned back in the chair, smiling, as he watched her scan the crowd for him. Her gaze slid down the bar and back, then circled the room. At last her gaze landed on him. She gave him a long look, then passed on. He watched her shrug, the brat, then move to the bar, where she engaged in a laugh-filled chat with MammaLa.
“You’re looking for your man?”
“He’s not “my” man,” Katherine replied. “He’s…well…”
“Honey, when a man comes and waits over an hour for a date, ignoring everyone and everything except his beer and the door, he’s definitely yours.”
“He did not…did he?”
“Indeed he did.” Mamma passed a glass to her, unasked for.
“What…I didn’t order yet,” she said.
“Your “not your man” did when he got here. Trust me honey, you have him all kinds of interested. Now, go and be with the boy. It’s been a long time since I’ve seen him this way. Play nice with one another.”
Taking the glass of wine, she moved through the crowd of tables, though they weren’t too crowded this early and on a Sunday evening. Stopping in front of his table, she nodded.
“Thank you for the wine,” she said, taking a sip. “It’s very nice.”
“I’m glad you approve. Take off the scarf.”
Her back straightened. It was a tone, some steel in his voice that slid right into her spine. In moments the scarf was in her free hand. When he snapped his fingers and lifted his palm, she laid it there.
“Good,” he said, though he was not smiling. Rising, he moved around the table. When she would have turned to face him, he pointed a finger at her.
Frozen in place, she stood.
“You’ll need this.”
Something cool slipped around her throat. A collar.
“It’s locked, too,” he spoke softly in her ear. “Just like that metal belt that’s been keeping that pussy waiting for me.”
A shiver danced across her skin, even as a hot slash of lust set fire to her clit. Stepping to the front of her, he took a leash from his pocket, snapping the end of it to the D-ring on the collar.
“Come.” He jangled the chain, and turning, headed towards the play room door.