Folly (15 page)

He put the folded papers down on the table and placed his phone on top of them.

‘So it looks like you're working in this mall at the moment. What are you doing?' I asked, cleverly concealing the fact that I already knew what he did for a living.

‘I'm an architect. One of my firm's biggest projects at the moment is the refurbishment of this centre.'

I was surprised he hadn't specifically stated that he owned the firm. There weren't many men I knew who wouldn't have gone out of their way to make that fact known right up front.

Confident yet modest. My slave was proving to be full of surprises.

‘When are the renovations going to be finished?' I asked.

‘The deadline for the first phase is just two weeks away, so it's crazy here at the moment.'

‘That must be causing you untold stress.'

‘It is.' He glanced down at the plans and then up again at me, smiling slightly with his eyebrow raised. ‘Luckily I know of ways to help relieve the stress.'

I thought for a shocked moment that he was making a clumsy pass, hinting that I should sleep with him, and I was about to offer a cutting rejection when I realised that he was, of course, referring to his sessions in my dungeon.

Or at least, he probably was. Sometimes, it was difficult to tell exactly what Simon did mean and I was beginning to wonder if he did this on purpose.

‘Indeed there are,' I said noncommittally, deciding to play him at his own game. ‘But do those methods really give you pleasure?'

Are you as perverse as I think you are? Can you honestly say it's worth the money you pay to be abused by me while maintaining a raging hard-on that you never touch?

And what is it you want, but won't tell me?

‘Well, that's a good question,' he said, ‘but a better one would be – do they give you pleasure?'

‘Me?' I said incredulously.

‘Yes, you.'

‘But I – what I get out of it is not the point. Anyway, I asked you first,' I shot back at him. This was not the Simon I'd seen ten minutes ago in the mall, his presence powerful and intimidating, his mind sharply focused on the purpose of his meeting. Having eased back on the accelerator of his compulsive drive, the man sitting opposite me was now relaxed and surprisingly charming, revelling in our cryptic wordplay and practically encouraging me to try to best him.

The problem was that I was not in the least prepared, nor willing, to be the focus of Simon Nel's single-minded attention, or to be trapped in the white-hot spotlight of his personality.

‘And I asked you back.' That infuriating smile was on his lips again.

‘In that case, no, they do not give me pleasure.' And I could say that with complete confidence. There was an element of satisfaction in the power I felt, of course, and the role-playing was fun because I enjoyed acting. But how – honestly, how on earth could he, or anyone, assume
I'd
be turned on by any of this?

If he thought administering a beating was an erotic activity then he was one hundred per cent wrong. It was not, and it never would be. Not for me, at any rate.

I offered him a cold stare.

‘You forget that, for me, this is business,' I added, and watched his smile dissolve.

Before he could respond, our food arrived, together with the bill, which he paid immediately.

For a while we ate in silence. It was finally broken by Simon.

‘You know, Emma, I must apologise. I don't have a clue what it's like to be a professional in your field. It's completely outside of my experience.'

I took another bite of my leek and blue cheese quiche, not wanting to reveal that I had very little of that myself.

‘I'm curious, though,' he said. ‘Would questions be allowed?'

‘It depends what they are. Trade secrets will not be disclosed. Questions that become too personal will earn you punishment at a later stage.'

‘Well, do you have a normal home life? Married? Kids?'

I took my time answering that, because I didn't want him to know the truth. It was just too difficult. It complicated things. It would make me appear vulnerable. My clients were buying into the illusion of being dominated by a powerful woman. I could not afford to come across as weak or helpless, especially not now, with my finances still hanging in the balance. If they sensed I was desperate, they would desert me in droves.

It was better for everybody concerned, and more professional-sounding, if I lied by telling them a plausible story – something that they would easily be able to believe.

Originally, I'd come up with two different scenarios. The first was that I was just a bored housewife doing domination in her spare time. I'd been worried though that if I told my clients this story, they might expect an enraged spouse to come storming into the dungeon at any moment, demanding to know what his wife was up to.

So I gave Simon the story I'd decided was infinitely safer.

Forgive me, Mark … I'm telling this lie for both of us.

‘Neither of the above. I'm single, and not seeing anybody at the moment. No kids, no close family in the country. I ran a successful creative agency for years. I sold the business a while ago, and then decided to start doing this to keep me busy.'

The perfect answer, I thought. It painted the picture of me as a strong, self-sufficient, comfortably-off woman who was the mistress of her own destiny.

‘And when did you …'

Simon's phone started ringing loudly, interrupting his question, and with a quick apology to me he picked up the plans and hurried outside to take the call. I waited a few minutes for him to return, and then I went and checked the area around the entrance to the restaurant, but there was no sign of him.

The crisis he'd been expecting had obviously descended, and a minute later, the beeping of my phone confirmed this. A message from him read: Had 2 run. Look forward 2 seeing u soon. Happy Valentine's Day! x

I realised he'd only managed to have a few bites of his ham and Camembert croissant. If that was his breakfast and lunch combined, it was no surprise that his bum was so pleasingly lean and firm.

I picked the cherry tomatoes out of my side salad before abandoning my own meal and leaving the restaurant. As I walked back to my car, I couldn't help thinking that Simon's questioning, like our lunch, had been interrupted when it had only just begun.

Chapter 18

I
didn't expect to hear from Simon for at least a fortnight after our impromptu lunch, given the deadline pressure he was working under. To my surprise, however, he called me the following week in the morning, while I was unlocking the door to the folly.

‘Hello, Mistress.'

‘Hello, Simon.' I found a silly grin had plastered itself over my face and was proving impossible to remove. ‘How's your work going?'

‘Still hectic. The end's in sight, though. I'm in the site office at the moment, waiting for the roofing material for the new section of the mall to be unloaded. Fascinating stuff, I know. How about you? Busy?'

‘Managing to keep out of trouble. Right now I'm waiting for a client to arrive.'

‘Have you got space for me this time next week?'

I sat down at my desk and opened my diary. ‘Next Wednesday, ninethirty? Yes, I do.'

‘Good. Book me in.'

‘It's done.'

I thought he was going to ring off, but instead he stayed on the line. There was a short silence and then he said, ‘I was sorry to have to leave you at lunch the other day, and just when our conversation was getting interesting, too.'

‘I seem to remember it was starting to become rather personal,' I said.

‘Oh, yes, definitely. All those questions of mine. I was well on the way to earning myself more brutal punishment, I'm sure.'

I knew he was keen to know about my lifestyle. I, on the other hand, needed to maintain the façade I'd begun to construct for him.

‘As I told you, I'm just your average dominant woman who sold her business and decided to do something she enjoyed in her free time. I, however, do have some questions for you.'

‘Fire away,' he said, and I thought I could hear some amusement in his tone.

‘Have you ever had your eyebrows shaved?' I was thinking of the slave Thandeka had told me about, the one who'd accompanied his mistress into Adult Land.

‘What?' Simon squawked. ‘Eyebrows?' He paused for a moment. ‘Tell me, is that something you want to do to me?'

‘No, stop it now.' I found myself laughing. ‘You can't keep doing this, Simon.'

‘Doing what?' he replied innocently.

‘Answering questions with questions.'

‘Ah. That.'

‘Yes, that.'

‘It's a bad habit I seem to have developed.'

‘Just one of a litany,' I observed.

‘Mmm. You're lucky I'm alone in this office right now,' he said. ‘As for the eyebrows – no, never. I've never thought of it as being erotic. But shaving other areas … more erotic.'

His tone dropped lower and his voice was full of suggestion.

‘You've done that?'

‘Both given and received.'

‘What else?' I was playing with a pencil, twirling it between my fingers, idly glancing outside at the empty driveway, feeling a sensation I couldn't quite name uncoiling inside me.

‘Where's your client?' he said as if reading my mind.

‘I'm sure he'll come soon,' I said, and then realised my poor choice of words. ‘I mean …'

But Simon was laughing again. ‘I'm sure he will, too, if he arrives.'

‘Damn it,' I protested. ‘No teasing, now.'

‘No teasing. Right.'

‘So, shaving. Tell me, Simon, what else have you done? What else do you like to do?'

‘Lots,' he said softly. I felt a shiver course down my spine.

‘Give me an example.'

‘ok. Here's one that might surprise you. I occasionally like to switch. I did that with my last serious girlfriend.'

‘Ah.' Switch. I wasn't sure if that meant what I thought it did, and didn't want to reveal my ignorance by asking. I guessed it meant that once in a while, he took the dominant role. The thought unsettled me. If that was what it would take to satisfy him, I was more than willing for him to remain frustrated.

‘What was her name?'

‘Paula.'

‘Where did you meet her?'

‘In Dubai.'

‘Why did you two break up?' I had no idea what was pushing me to ask these unprofessional questions. I hadn't expected him to answer but, after a beat, he did.

‘I ended it with her. There was a breach of trust, Emma.'

‘Oh.'

A breach of trust? That was even more vague an explanation than ‘switch'. How had trust been breached? By not stopping when the safe word was used? In all seriousness, the worst offence I could think of was that Paula must have told somebody – a friend, a colleague – about what Simon liked to do. Perhaps that was why he'd broken up with her even though it had been a serious relationship.

It still didn't make total sense to me, and I wanted to question him about it again at a later stage, but not now. Not when he was already saying, ‘Enough about me. Your turn.'

‘Hasn't your roofing been unloaded yet?'

‘It weighs twenty tonnes. The crane is making its third lift as we speak. So, what does a dominatrix get up to in her spare time given that she's free and single and romantically uninvolved?'

‘I ride my horse,' I said.

‘Would he be one of the two handsome animals I've caught sight of in the field beyond your dungeon?'

Slightly taken aback he'd noticed the horses' paddock at all, I replied, ‘Those are both mine. The one with the white stockings is retired. I ride the other one. The demented one.'

‘That explains a lot.'

‘About what? My dexterity with a whip? Or the fact I ride an insane animal?'

‘No, actually, although your whip skills are most accomplished and I'm sure your riding is too. It explains the way you carry yourself. Your beautiful posture. It's easy to admire. Perhaps it's because you're a horsewoman.'

I didn't know what to say in response to that sincere and unexpected compliment.

An ‘Oh … thank you' was all I could come up with. Not exactly a great contribution to our witty repartee.

‘And has anybody ever told you that you have an extremely sexy voice?' he added, which was the kind of praise I was more used to receiving, since thousands of men had in fact told me so in the past.

‘You're getting ahead of yourself now,' I responded. ‘Go and pay some attention to your crane.' I looked up as I heard the rattle of the gate opening and saw the bonnet of a Land Rover appearing through it. ‘I have to go. My client is here.'

‘See you next week.'

I hung up, but the warm feeling inside me didn't go away. It persisted throughout the day. I felt it in the afternoon when I went for a walk, replaying the conversation in my head and smiling in a way that made the couple of pedestrians I encountered smile back. It was there when I made myself pasta with tomato-and-basil sauce in the elderly and temperamental electric wok that, since the sale of the stove, was the only cooking appliance I had left.

It was still there when I went to bed.

I told myself I was being ridiculous; that the phone call had been no more than a few minutes of idle chitchat that Simon would have forgotten about as soon as he'd put his cellphone away.

But as I curled up to go to sleep, with Bob the Cat purring loudly and kneading my pillow, I was still feeling happy inside.

Chapter 19

S
imon was my best regular client so far in terms of spend, but as far as satisfying him went, I had no idea what I could be doing wrong. Certainly, he became easily aroused, but he'd sustain his raging hard-on for the duration of his torture, without touching himself, even when I hinted that he had permission to do so.