Her Name...

Domination - Part 1

Her name was Danielle. Secretary and Personal Assistant. Well, I added the personal part in there, because she ended up spending a lot of time with me out of work as well.

I honestly had no idea what was happening with Chelsea. She had spent the night, but nothing had happened. I had given her a shirt of mine so she wouldn't have to sleep in her dress, and we had held each other throughout the night, but she didn't seem to want a relationship. I knew she wasn't quite over her ex either, so I decided I'd let it play out a bit.

Chelsea was...chaotic, in the sense that I couldn't quite read her, possibly because she was unsure of her own feelings. I knew there was an attraction between us, but I didn't know the effect that attraction had on her. I wanted her, there was no doubt about that, but I still had thoughts of Becca. I guess I was as confused as Chelsea was when it came to this.

Danielle, on the other hand, was Order. I could almost predict her movements. Every morning, she'd knock on my door. I could set my clock by it.

I rolled out of bed as I heard it. I didn't bother trying to find anything to cover myself with, I just opened the door with my shorts on. I had been doing this for a while, but it still affected her and that amused me. Her cheeks reddened slightly as she blushed, and her eyes darted away from mine as her body tensed. I let her in. I made sure there was almost no space for her to get through, and she'd have to come close to me to pass. Her porcelain skin touched mine, and I felt her shudder. It felt great.

I left her in the living room, and I got ready for work. By the time I came out, she had made something for breakfast. She had started doing this recently, around the time she had come in to see Chelsea with me. I didn't know why she started, but she was a decent cook, and it tasted a hell of a lot better than what I could make, so I didn't question it.

She glanced up from setting the table as I walked in. I knew what she was going to say. I guess that this still made her feel like she had some control over the situation.

"Passable."

I looked at her and she blushed again. I don't think she realized I could tell, or perhaps she was hoping that I didn't notice, but it was really quite obvious. I gave no indication that I had seen it.

I cleared my throat, and she glared at me.

"I'm not saying it!"

"Suit yourself." I sat down to eat, and ignored her. That drove her crazy. I could tell that she was so used to being in control, that when she wasn't, she didn't know how to react.

I felt her angry stare as she softly breathed the word. "Sir."

I glanced up, nodded my head, and smirked. Things were going according to my wishes.

She was very professional at work. Standoffish as usual, but without that disapproval I had sensed when I had first met her. She was efficient too. She got things done, and was always prepared. I admired her work ethic, and I could tell why she had risen so quickly up the company. She worked so much harder than I did, that I was almost ashamed of my position. Almost. She streamlined my work, and I became more productive because of her. People under me came to either respect me, or fear the consequences of opposing me. I didn't care which. Either way, work started to become more enjoyable.

I was out almost every evening. I felt guilty about it, but whenever I was at home, I felt my thoughts drifting towards Becca. I was becoming distant towards her, and I knew it wasn't fair, but I didn't want to keep thinking about her. We went from Skyping and calling every day, to once a week, and if I was out, I could say I was busy without feeling like I was lying. Things didn't seem too different between us though. We still talked, laughed and enjoyed ourselves when we got the chance, but her not being here physically was taking its toll on me. I longed for her touch, and if I couldn't get it, I wanted someone else's. I was ashamed of myself, and I felt guilty, but I went forward with the thought that no matter what, she'd be there for me. I was hers, and she was mine. What happened in between wouldn't matter. I'd go back home for her one day, and things would go back to what they were. Those thoughts made it easier to do what I did.