Submission {UNFIN}

Chapter Three.

10:28 p.m., Manhattan, New York. 

I turned and locked the doors to my Mercedes, hearing the car's beep in response. Holding my purse under my arm and with a bit of added confidence, I strutted toward the doors of the club, not intending to be there long. The bouncers already knew who I was, seeing as I was a frequent of the establishment, and so they didn't bother checking for ID. Instead, rather, they stepped aside and let me in, hassle free. Inside, here was the familiar rattling of the bass beneath the dance floor and the same dim lighting that there had always been. My eyes scanned over to the bar and zeroed in on Derek, who was looking around without the slightest sense of being discreet. 

After rolling my eyes, I made my way over and sat next to him without a word, opting to order a sex on the beach. Having done that, Derek and I were the only two within earshot of each other, allowing me to initiate conversation. 

"Derek, you need to be more.. natural. You make things so obvious," I told him, being sure not to whisper or appear suspicious and weird. Much to my incredulity, he chuckled and took a sip of what I knew was a vodka soda. Derek always ordered a vodka soda.

"Yes, Ms. You know, I was actually thinking about taking this to the next level." My drink was slid in front of me, and I nodded toward the bartender in a subpar thank you. What I'd just heard had gotten my thoughts tangled into knots so tight that I felt I needed scissors to cut the ideas out. When I'd pursued to Derek and introduced him to the idea of a dominant-submissive relationship, I was well aware that he wasn't particularly the type to last long, but by studying his movements and habits, I could tell he knew how to stroke, which was enough for me to overlook his lack of experience in being a sub. 

However, I explained thoroughly that I didn't subject myself to love relationships. I was blunt when I told him that I played dominant with one man for six months, and when the contract was up, I found a new creature to reign over, occasionally taking seven to eight month breaks between men. I didn't consider myself a whore, but I knew that I had been with more men than what one would consider average. Still, I justified it all with both my easy tendency to get bored with men and my erotic sexual desires that were perpetually approached differently by each man. 

"Are you out of your mind? I told you that I don't do relationships." My tone was harsh, though I didn't care. How could he have possibly thought that I had feelings for him? What an imbecile. 

"But Ms., I think that I'm falling for you." Without even having the chance to finish my liquor, I grabbed my purse and stood, preparing to leave and wearing a tired expression.

"Well then you better get the fuck back up. Your contract is relieved as of today. That is all." Aware of the eyes glued to my ass, I switched on my way toward the door, leaving the bar before I could hear Derek's bogus response.

I need to make sure to block his number.

Typically, my subs had been through the process before, and thus I tended to have friendly relationships with them, but they never forgot who played what role. Derek's failure to remember that I was the dominant and that we were not and would not ever be a couple wore my patience down in as little as two months. I couldn't take his annoying calls and good morning texts. That was not what I had him sign for. 

With a sigh, I approached my car and my mind held fast to the notion of a night on Netflix with the snicker-doodles that my friends had made while over the day prior. So, when I noted the pestering man from the office leaning against the hood of my car, you could only imagine the way that the sight irked me. Being the strong, bold woman I was, I stood directly in front of him and crossed my arms over my chest. 

"Stalk much?" His smile was ever white in the ominous view of the street light. When he'd come to my office earlier, he was seemed soft, weak, like your ordinary man, like the ones I ordered around like children. But when I saw him there, so comfortably lounging on the hood of my silver vehicle, I could see the dominance in him. In the elevator, I could tell only by his tendencies and the way his eyes shifted and attempted to read me. Now, I could tell by the way he carried himself. Something about him made me curious, and it scared me. Dominants don't take interest in other dominants. That job is for the submissive.