: Chapter 15

Sylvie’s hands trembled as she fumbled with the paper. Tears streamed down her face. She couldn’t control her emotions. One minute she was filled with rage and wanted to castrate the rat-bastard. And the next she was overcome with fear. Fear that she’d lose him if she didn’t agree to his conditions. Fear of the things he wanted to do to her. How could she have been so fucking stupid? How did she not see this coming? She must have read at least 25 or 30 erotic romance novels and all of them had elements of bondage and discipline. Dominant males subjugating their submissive female partners. Men spanking, paddling, and whipping their women. Tying them up and torturing them with nipple clamps, butt plugs, and other assorted kinky paraphernalia.

To her it was all theoretical. She knew that there were people who enjoyed that kind of kinky lifestyle, but she wasn’t among them. Regrettably, Mr. Connor Hudson did. It wasn’t theoretical to him. He wanted to put it into practice. She’d been right about him from the very start. He was a pervert! Unfortunately, he was a drop-dead gorgeous pervert who also happened to be a fabulous lover.

How could she not have known what he was? He’d spanked her, for God’s sake. Then carried her off to bed, and fucked her brains out. That was typical dom behavior. What was she? Blind? Didn’t she realize he was setting her up with all his talk of rules and consequences?

Well if she hadn’t known before, she knew now. All his cards were on the table. The relationship he wanted with her wasn’t normal. He wasn’t looking for a girlfriend. He wanted a submissive!

She’d awakened this morning to find a list of rules on her pillow. She couldn’t believe it! She thought it was his idea of a sick joke at first, but turns out the joke was on Sylvie. She’d just finished reading his rules and was ready to bite his head off and tell him to shove his damn rules up his ass when he appeared with a breakfast tray all smiles and charm.

As a ‘special treat’ for his ‘little girl’ he’d brought her breakfast in bed. Connor wanted Sylvie to understand that he intended to pamper as well as punish her. On the tray was a pink rose in a crystal bud vase. He explained that the flower symbolized pleasure. The thorns pain. He told Sylvie he intended to give her both in equal measure. Then he proceeded to read the rules to her like she was a naughty toddler. He took pleasure in describing the consequences of displeasing him. She’d contemplated throwing her eggs benedict at him, envisioning egg yolk and hollandaise sauce stuck in his curls and dripping down his nose. But that would have been a waste of good food; so she ate them instead, all the while glaring at him.

The list was extensive and covered every aspect of her life. He would, he told her, exercise absolute control over her.

Rule #1 focused on obedience. Sylvie would obey him in all things. Without hesitation. Without argument. No matter where they were. No matter who they were with. His word was law. She would not be allowed to question his authority. She would treat him with deference. Be docile and compliant and acquiesce to his every wish and command. In his dreams!

Rule #2 dealt with personal safety. Sylvie must never do anything to endanger life or limb. That was a no-brainer! Then he got down to the nitty-gritty. ‘You must ask permission every time you leave the house so I know and approve of where you are going!’ he told her. If he granted her permission, she would be allowed to go out alone during daylight hours only. She had to be back before dark. The man was a definite control freak! Under no circumstances was she to be out after dark unless he or his designee accompanied her. She must also have her cell phone charged and with her at all times so he can always know where she is. Not to mention insecure! Maybe he should just get her one of those electronic ankle bracelet monitors they make criminal offenders wear. There were also requirements that she wear a seat belt while driving, lock her car doors, drive within the speed limit, and not drive in inclement weather.

Rule #3 was about respect. It was a list of ‘thou shalts’ and ‘shalt nots.’ Thou shalt always be polite and respectful. Thou shalt never argue, be rude, sassy, impudent, insulting, or insolent. Bossiness, back talk, and cursing at him were also big no-no’s! ‘From now on you’ll listen when I speak to you. You will not, repeat not, interrupt me! And trust me. You won’t be giving me any snide comments or arguments either. Sylvie the smart aleck doesn’t live here anymore,’ he warned. That’s what he thinks!

Rule #4 addressed honesty. There would be no lying, cheating, or manipulation on her part. And no sins of omission. To Connor’s way of thinking, withholding information from him was the equivalent of telling lies. ‘You will not hide things from me. Is that understood? I want to know what’s going on with you. Know what you’re thinking. What you’re feeling. It’s my duty to take care of you, to protect you and keep you safe, to calm your fears. I can’t do that if you put up barriers. If you don’t trust me enough to let me in,’ he explained. Boy, he’d be shocked if he knew what she was thinking right now. She was contemplating murder…his! And get this, under the banner of ‘always being honest,’ he expected her to confess each and every act of misbehavior, so she could be punished for it. Was he serious? No…delusional! Did he really expect her to tell him she was ‘naughty’ so he could blister her ass? Not hardly!

Rule #5 concerned personal behavior. Her manner of dress had to be modest. ‘Your clothes will be subject to my inspection and approval,’ he announced. That meant no short skirts or shorts with her ass hanging out. No plunging necklines with her tits on display. No low-rise jeans with her ass crack showing. And no skintight pants that clung to her butt or formed a camel toe in front, drawing attention to her girly parts. What was he, the frigging fashion police?

‘Your body belongs to me and me alone now. I don’t want other men drooling over you, thinking you’re a loose woman and available.’ Did he really say that? ‘Loose woman’ was such an antiquated term. What happened to Connor the libertine who liked loose women? When did he transform himself into a Victorian prude with a stick up his ass? She couldn’t quite get over the fact that he thought plain, scrawny, geeky Sylvie Jenkins was capable of inciting lust in men. She wasn’t sure if she should be angered or flattered.

‘I expect you to conduct yourself like a lady at all times. You will act in a manner that reflects well on me and doesn’t anger, upset, or embarrass me. That means your days of swearing like a drunken, foul-mouthed sailor are over. Finito! I won’t tolerate that kind of behavior from you anymore. Next time I catch you cursing I will wash that nasty little mouth of yours out with soap!’ he threatened. Him and what army? Who did he think he was…her father? ‘The only time you’re allowed to talk dirty is in bed…while in the throes of passion.’

Since Connor provided her cell phones and laptop, he insisted she furnish him with a daily log of all her non-work related calls and communications and a weekly schedule of any errands and appointments that would take her away from the house. Who did he think he was to monitor her private calls and emails and her comings and goings like that…the NSA? So he owned the phones and computer, that still didn’t give him the right to be such a controlling prick about it. She needed to get herself her own cell and laptop pronto. That would show him!

Anyone she was already friends with or those she wished to become friendly with would have to submit to his scrutiny and approval. They had to pass muster. He didn’t want her associating with anyone that might be a bad influence or who might encourage her to act in a manner he disapproved of. Sylvie would not be setting foot in a bar again unless Connor was with her. There would be no girls’ night out, no ladies’ luncheons, no bar scene! Sylvie would be staying close to home. In other words, she was his prisoner. She was beginning to think that convicts at Sing Sing had more freedom than he was planning to allow her! Needless to say, excessive drinking, drugging, and smoking were verboten.

Rule # 6 had to do with her health and well-being. She would eat a healthy diet, not skip meals; and at his behest, try to gain a little weight. He thought she was too thin. He did not, however, tell her what specifically she should and should not eat, the number of servings, or portion size. He left that up to her. Hell, he was micromanaging everything else in her life. Why not this too?

Under his direction, she would begin a daily exercise routine to build up her stamina so she could more fully participate in outdoor activities such as hiking, mountain climbing, downhill and cross country skiing, camping, fishing, hunting, and snowshoeing. Oh joy, all things he enjoyed and she absolutely HATED!

She would go to sleep at an hour of his choosing and would not stay awake watching television, reading, texting, surfing the web, or emailing on the computer. Bedtime would be strictly enforced and would be adjusted either earlier or later at his sole discretion dependent on her behavior and physical condition. A bedtime? Gimme a break!

She would limit her alcohol consumption and never drink unless he was with her to monitor her intake. He didn’t like sloppy drunks, especially of the female variety.

She was required to tell him immediately if she didn’t feel well so he could ‘take appropriate action.’ The thought of what that ‘appropriate action’ might be made her shudder! At his insistence, and under the guise of doing research for the book, he’d had her order a large adult rectal thermometer that she’d seen on a BDSM website and a variety of strange suppositories, anal dilators, and enema paraphernalia. She thought he’d wanted all that kinky shit for the book, but now she couldn’t help wondering…was this his plan all along? Well, if he thought he was going to play doctor with her, he was sadly mistaken!

Rule #7 concerned fidelity. Sylvie was not to flirt or do anything to encourage the attention of other men. Nor should she allow males, other than family members, to touch, hug, or kiss her. He was adamant. He didn’t want her to be alone with or even talk to another man unless he was present or gave his permission. Connor was jealous? Who knew? The realization came as quite a surprise, especially seeing as how he and his friends passed women around as though they were chattel. He was perfectly comfortable sharing Seanna, or Deidre, or Caris with his friends. But Sylvie he wanted all to himself. He’d made that abundantly clear. In return, he vowed to be faithful to her. He promised he would never be with another woman as long as he was with Sylvie. That sounded like a commitment or was she reading too much into it?

Rule #8 was devoted to submission. She would be required to address him as ‘sir’ when he demanded it. Yes sir. No sir. Go fuck yourself sir! She was required to submit to him sexually in whatever manner he wished. ‘You will always be available to me!’ he’d told her. As far as he was concerned, her primary purpose in life was pleasing him. Yeah right! Why didn’t he just buy himself a blowup rubber sex doll? At times he would demand silence. She wouldn’t be allowed to speak unless first spoken to. She would also be required to demonstrate her submission by lowering her eyes and keeping them downcast until he told her she could look at him. Did he even know what century they were living in? Men didn’t treat women like that anymore. He wasn’t her lord and master. This wasn’t the eleventh century!

She already knew about the nudity requirements in the bedroom, but the rules he’d crafted expanded on that. It appeared that when she wasn’t working or in the common areas of the house with servants and staff wandering about she would be required to be bare-assed. Worse still, he expected her to kneel in his presence. Like a pet dog or cat. Good luck with that one!

After explaining the rules to Sylvie, Connor informed her that they were ‘non-negotiable.’ PRICK! He told her that failure to follow the rules would lead to ‘corrective measures.’ There was a frightening gleam in his eyes when he said it. She wanted to slap him silly! Did he really think she would agree to this shit?

Sylvie had kept her silence through it all, but she couldn’t take it anymore. She finally found her voice and told him outright ‘No way Connor. There is no way in hell I am going to allow you to treat me this way. I know you think you’re hot shit and can do whatever you want to whomever you want. But I’ve got news for you big guy…not me!’

Connor looked at her and shook his head, an indulgent smile fixed on his face. It looked like he was preparing to lecture a preschooler or someone with an IQ of 20. ‘What is it that you object to? I think I’ve been quite fair.’

‘This is fair? Are you bonkers? You, Mr. Hudson, have serious mental and social issues. You are a narcissistic Neanderthal. I am a grown woman. I have rights. I’m not going to let you spank and abuse me.’

‘I am not going to abuse you! I will discipline you, yes. But I would never really hurt you. You’re overreacting. I think that once you get comfortable with the rules and the routine, your doubts will disappear. I think you’ll like the safety, stability, and emotional security a relationship like this offers. I’m going to take care of you. Why do you take offense at that?’

‘I don’t know,’ she glared at him. ‘Maybe because you keep telling me you intend to beat my ass?’ she hissed.

‘Punishment is negative reinforcement for bad behavior. Hell, I wouldn’t need to paddle your backside if your father had taken a firm hand to you.’

‘You leave my father out of this. My father was a gentleman, not a perverted sadist like someone I know!’

‘I am neither a pervert nor a sadist.’

‘Couldn’t prove it by me. This little document,’ she said, waving the rules in his face, ‘tells me you are one fucked up individual!’

‘Will you stop making it sound like I’m some kind of monster! I want you. What’s wrong with that? I want to take care of you.’

‘On your terms,’ she interrupted.

‘Yes! Why not on my terms? You want us to be together don’t you?’ he asked. His tone brusque, his eyes narrowing.

‘I did,’ she responded, glumly. ‘I don’t think I do any more. I wanted to be your lover, not your captive. I won’t let you hold me hostage, forcing me to be something I’m not.’

Connor looked shocked.

‘Did you really think I’d agree to this kind of relationship? I’m not a masochist Connor. I can’t be what you want me to be.’

‘I want you to be you.’

‘Down on my knees and cowering you mean!’

‘You were down on your knees to me last night. I don’t remember you cowering in fear.’ He looked into her eyes. ‘Have I ever been cruel to you? Have I ever abused you? Have I made unreasonable demands on you? What makes you think I’ll change now?’

‘I don’t want you to spank me!’ she informed him, pouting. ‘I didn’t like it!’

‘If you’re referring to Saturday night, the spanking was necessary. It was deserved. You needed settling down, so I settled you.’

‘I hated it. It hurt awful!’

‘I doubt that very much. You laid on that sore little bottom all while I made love to you. You wiggled and writhed and then came like gangbusters. No, I don’t think it hurt you. In fact, I think it helped you. There’s a fine line between pain and pleasure. When they come together, when they meld, it arouses the most erotic, sensual feelings. I think the sting of the spanking, mixed with the pleasure of my cock pumping into you, drove you over the edge to your climax…or rather climaxes. You had a couple of them. I actually did you a favor.’

What an obnoxious, arrogant douchebag! Maybe she should return the ‘favor’ and smack him upside the head! See if that makes him cum? At the very least he’d be seeing stars!

‘Getting that spanking didn’t kill you, did it?’

Sylvie glared at him, refusing to answer.

‘Well?’

‘No, it didn’t kill me. But that’s because you used your hand. I don’t want you to spank me with anything else!’

‘Is that what this is about? You don’t want me to use the implements?’ He gave her an indulgent smile.

She winced then nodded.

‘Which ones do you object to?’

‘All of them,’ she bellowed, ‘The tawse, the strops, the riding crop, everything! I don’t want you to spank me with those.’

‘I’m afraid that’s not your decision to make, Sylvie. I decide the means of your punishment. But I promise you, I’ll go slow. I told you, it’s not my intention to hurt you.’

‘Don’t I have any say in this?’ she asked incredulously. ‘It’s my body!’

‘So it is. But I’m afraid that’s not the way this works. But I tell you what, if you don’t want me blistering your behind for breaking the rules, all you have to do is behave. It’s that simple.’

‘So you won’t spank me as long as I follow the rules?’

‘That isn’t what I said. I said I wouldn’t spank you as punishment. I will still spank you for pleasure.’

‘Whose pleasure? Yours? ‘Cause it certainly won’t be mine!’ she shouted at him in frustration.

‘You’d be surprised how much pleasure a well-warmed bottom can give under the right circumstances.’

Was he serious? ‘OK, let me whip you. I’ll get the riding crop and we’ll see how good it feels when it’s happening to you.’

‘Sorry. The role of spankee has already been cast. Any guess as to who that might be? I already have a part. I will play the spanker.’

She wouldn’t make eye contact with him. ‘Well I won’t let you use the nipple clamps and any of that other stuff on me,’ she announced defiantly.

Her defenses were crumbling. She was trying to negotiate, that was a good sign. Not that it would do her any good. He intended to be firm with her. The rules would stand. She would have to accept Connor as her master. It was obvious to him that Sylvie didn’t want to leave; but she was equally terrified of what would happen to her if she stayed. She’d come around to his way of thinking. She just needed a little reassurance that things would work out for the best. That he could indeed make her happy. ‘Has anyone ever put clamps on your pretty little nipples?’ he asked, his tone teasing. He was trying not to gloat.

‘No! Of course not!’ She was insulted that he would even ask such a thing.

‘Well then, how do you know you won’t like it?’

Her eyes refused to meet his. She didn’t have an answer for him.

‘Many women find the sensations the devices elicit to be delightfully erotic.’

‘But if I hate it, if it’s too painful, you’ll take them off. Right? I’ll say my safe word and then you’ll take them off?’

His dark eyes became serious. ‘What safe word Sylvie? You don’t need a safe word.’

Sylvie paled. ‘Yes I do!’ she insisted. ‘Every submissive is supposed to have a safe word. It’s in all the research. It’s in all the books. I have to have a safe word!’

He shook his head. ‘No Sylvie. If this is going to work, you’ve got to trust me. You’ve got to believe I’ll be good to you. That I’ll do what’s best for you. That I’ll keep you safe and never harm you.’

‘You want me at your mercy. Is that it?’ she choked out the words, her face filled with despair.

‘It won’t be like that Sylvie. You either trust me or you don’t.’

‘But…’ Before she could get the words out he brought his finger to her lips to silence her.

‘You need to make a decision Sylvie,’ he said as he took her in his arms. ‘I can’t make it for you; much as I’d like to. I know what I want. I want us to be together. Now it’s your turn. You need to decide what you want.’ With that he brought his lips to her mouth and delivered a lingering kiss. She wanted to push him away, but she didn’t have the strength to fight him. He let her go then paused to stare deep into her eyes, before turning, and leaving the room.

Sylvie stood and watched him go. She wanted to throw something at him. She wanted to stamp her feet and scream at the top of her lungs how unfair this was. But all she could do was stand there feeling empty. Her heart wanted to stay, to be with him. But her head was warning…pack your things and go! Now, before it’s too late. Get away from him before he destroys you. Which should she obey?

She agonized over the decision. If she was truly honest with herself, she had to admit that something about his dominant, commanding nature turned her on. Why was that? She liked the fact that he took charge in the bedroom. But relinquishing control for twenty minutes while a slave to passion was quite different than being a slave 24/7. What was wrong with her that she’d even entertain such a proposal? She was throwing reason out the window and thinking with her pussy. So he made her tingle and tremble all over, made her feel things she’d never felt before…so what? There were millions, no tens of millions, even hundreds of millions of men out there who had the right equipment. He wasn’t the only guy with a cock. Why not one of them? What was so special about Connor Hudson that she was willing to turn her life upside down and deny her own nature just to please him…just to be with him? She shook her head in confusion. Aside from his big dick, talented tongue, full lips, handsome face, killer body, and intelligence, she couldn’t think of a thing!

Sylvie didn’t understand. Why did he want to hurt her, punish her? It was obviously a sexual turn-on for him. He needed to control her. But he was already in control. Christ! She worked for him, lived in his house, slept in his room, and made love to him whenever he wanted. How much more control over her did he want?

‘The rules are simple,’ he’d told her. ‘When I give you an order, you obey it. You do as I say without argument, discussion, or complaint. If you are defiant or disobedient, insolent or willful, you will be punished. I will have your absolute obedience, trust, and submission!’

She was terrified of what he planned to do. How did she know he wasn’t some deranged sadist? He said he wasn’t a sadist, but how did she really know? He also said he wasn’t a pervert, but he could have fooled her. She didn’t believe his proposal qualified as normal healthy sexual behavior. It struck her as decidedly aberrant!

And what about a safe word? Why was he so opposed to her having one? He wanted her to trust him. That would be a whole lot easier if he didn’t tower over her and weigh twice as much as she did.

Sylvie’s heart pounded. It felt like there was a trip hammer in her chest. Her hands trembled; her muscles quivered. She had to try to think rationally. He wasn’t forcing her into this. If she refused she’d still have her job. He’d said so last night. She just wouldn’t have him. Their arrangement wasn’t an ironclad contract. He couldn’t, wouldn’t force her to stay against her will. She knew him well enough to know that. His pride wouldn’t allow it. If she couldn’t abide this new life, the life he wanted for her, then she’d deal with it…when the time came.

Life had been tedious and boring before Connor. Did she really want to go back to that? What did she have to lose?

Sylvie stared at the door, finally admitting the truth to herself. She had to trust him. There was no way she could leave. She loved him. She didn’t plan it. It just happened.

The sound of approaching footsteps filled her with dread. The knob turned and the door slowly opened. Connor was standing there, framed in the doorway. He hesitated before entering, his face showing worry and concern. ‘Are you staying?’ he asked.

The breath caught in her lungs. ‘Yes,’ she responded.

A smile lit his face, his eyes sparkled. He opened his arms to her and she flew into them. ‘Don’t be afraid Sylvie. Everything will be fine.’

She wanted so much to believe him. ‘I don’t know if I can do this Connor,’ she admitted, her voice cracking. ‘But I promise I’ll try.’

‘That’s all I ask.’