Help Wanted [*Complete*]

6

"Sir is a jealous man. A Submissive should never have sex with other men, flirt with other men, or go on dates with other men, for a Submissive belongs to Sir and none other. She is his prized possession, one that needs to be cherished and disciplined in order for her to reach her full potential."

The next morning, I woke up to a small plate with a cinnamon roll on it and a cup of orange juice with a vitamin beside it on the nightstand. Cards sat in front of the pastry and juice. The one before the roll said TWO BITES, and HALF THE GLASS was written on the other. The words brought a smile to my lips as I took the pill gathering a bit of frosting on my finger and tasted it. The cream cheesy-ness of it was perfect hangover food. The icing wasn't the only thing gooey in the room my sex was still slick from the night before, his instructions only made it worse.

I pulled on my pajamas intent on taking a shower.

The intercom buzzed.

"Natalia, in my office. Now!" Mr. Emery's voice boomed from the speaker overhead. Once dressed I quickly headed up to the second floor, noting that once again the door to the playroom was open.

"Good morning, Sir." I smiled lazily. He was shirtless again, his ink almost seemed out of place in the meticulous office. It was funny the difference a suit makes.

"Good morning. Have you showered yet?"

"No."

"No what?" His voice was soft and yet still so commanding.

"No, Sir."

Those eyes cold gray eyes swept over me appraisingly for a moment before he stepped from around the desk and laced his fingers with mine. Leading me by the hand, he took me into the play room.

A king-sized bed dominated the center of the room like a modern art sculpture with the four posts of ornate metal work concealing D-clips. Everything else in the room led the eye back to the bed. There were stocks, a Saint Andrew's cross, something that looked vaguely like an inversion table and dangling from the ceiling were cuffs on a track system that covered most of the room. Floggers of various kinds lined the walls proudly on display.

We didn't stop in the room, he continued pulling me into a large surprisingly bright bathroom. The colors weren't as suffocating as in the playroom. Everything was some varying shade between beige and cream. The tub was big enough for two people with jacuzzi jets, there was also a glass enclosure for a shower against a far wall and inside of it to the back was a stone lounge. The spacious bath also had a padded white chaise featured in the middle of it.

"Strip," he ordered as he dropped my hand, the lack of contact made me realize how little he had touched me the night before—almost as though he were afraid to. "The safe word of the day is canary."

Quickly recovering, I pulled off my shirt and slipped off my shorts. There was a certain vulnerability to being nude in front of a stranger, more so when the unknown person is clothed—though I'd worked there for a week he was still very much a stranger—however, that difference didn't last for very long.

After checking the water, he stepped away from the shower and my eyes glued to him as he slid the track pants down his hips, revealing his thick half-hard cock. Oh, he was gifted, and if he was a grower I had doubts about how possible anal would be without more training. As he strode around the bathroom taking towels and various things from the closet he seemed so confident in his nudity, while I struggled to not cover my breasts.