fetish // mitchel cave

00:16

Mitchel's POV

The satin night dress was glimmering at the dim dark lightning of the room. A room packed with people. A room that could be capable to only fit two.

Her flawless hair was up in a tight ponytail and she wore them straight as usual. Her makeup was light because she only wanted to point out the beautiful features of her face. I had to tell her that every feature was beautifully perfect on her. No exaggerating.

Phoebe was talking with some of her colleagues, spreading her smiles throughout the conversation, like her usual easygoing character does. She had them all, gentlemen and ladies, magnetized by the way she was talking. It was pure magic. She is pure magic.

I reminded myself that once again I've fallen for a fraud, a young, bold yet pretty fraud who was wearing a pink satin dress. It was as the satin silk was stuck in my brain. You can tell that this is one of my many fetishes.

I lit up a cigarette and pondered the good and the bad side of life while observing the smoke coming from it. I chuckled at how sad and unfair life can be and how dumb we were to be blaming luck or God when it is all our faults. If everyone came to this realization the world would be a safer and better place.

"Is anything I can do for your concerns Mr. Cave?" A pair of hands softly touched my shoulders, sending warmth at every touch of theirs while she wrapped my neck with them. Phoebe's voice was soft, low and slow. It was obvious that she was trying to sound seductive. She really didn't have to, though. I was already turned on by whatever she did.

"Just with you being here I already feel better," I said with the smirk I know she hates but loves altogether on my face. I had to look at everyone just to make sure nobody was seeing us flirt. It would be unprofessional and unfair, for all of her colleagues to see an employee being so intimate with her boss. Sometimes I could be a total jerk for having to remind her that she was truly dependent on me.

Phoebe played with the tips of her hair and I could notice her slight blushing. The reason why she was something valuable for me, maybe was the power my eyes and words have on her. How every time I uttered a word she would pay attention, even though she hated to admit so.

A guy in a black tuxedo that goes by the name Alan Weiron and so happened to be one of my main employers, manager of economics, approached our way. If I didn't have the picture of the strict boss hanged on me I would groan at him interrupting our conversation. But I knew that he wouldn't be doing so if it wasn't an important issue. "Can I please bother you for a second Mr. Cave?" Asked Weiron with an over the top apologetic look in his eye. I love being in power. I love being the boss, but I hate to leave Phoebe alone, especially when she's so astonishing as she is tonight.

"What is wrong Weiron?" I asked the 6 feet tall guy and the beautiful woman I was interacting with wore a blank face. She hated my professional side, but this came along with the whole package of being with me. If you could say that we are together.

Phoebe walked away from us too get a drink for herself, something not heavy, like wine. It was inevitable that since she is a beautiful lady standing alone at the cocktail bar, someone would try to hit on her. Another guy in another black tuxedo and with absolutely perfect styled hair approached her.

I knew she was irritated at me for giving her the cold shoulder for not the first time. Weiron kept on talking about the statistics of our incomes of this week that have declined profoundly. "A good marketing manager would indefinitely be a great idea."

Back to the guy with the tuxedo now. He is holding a glass of a dark orangish liquid. Whiskey. He made a motion at the barman and in a few second a glass full of wine was handed at the lady. My lady. Phoebe.