I had to make her leave. I couldn’t look at her.

The sex had been good. No, it had been better than good, it had been fantastic. And that was the problem right there. Everything about her was different.

I had got complacent, I realised afterwards. I’d thought I could just take her through the locked door, make use of those rooms one last time before taking up membership of the club. I thought I could use her like I’d used all the others, feed the hunger inside me, then get rid of her and move on.

I hadn’t given enough thought to what might happen if I developed feelings. I thought all the emotions of that nature were dead and gone like Christine was. That I could just feed the hunger and be done.

My soul laughed at me, mocked my efforts with wholehearted glee. There I was that evening, billionaire businessman, empire stretching across half the globe. I only had to click my fingers to make something mine. I wanted a new car, I got one. I wanted a new jet to replace the worn out one that was decorated in last year’s colours. Done.

But there was one thing I could neither buy nor control, me. Specifically, the thoughts and feelings in my head that swelled and grew as I lay with Rosa, buried deep inside her, feeling a connection I hadn’t felt since…

I made her leave. I gave her no time to collect her clothes. If she stayed a second longer, I’d blurt something out that would show I’d lost control. I couldn’t let that happen. The entire system depended on me being in charge. More importantly I didn’t know what I might say, that I might tell her that ten days wasn’t going to cut it, that I wanted to keep her forever.

But she wasn’t going to be mine. She was going to belong to the club, she was the price of my membership.

I left the office and drove myself home, taking the emergency Porsche I left in the parking garage under the office. It wasn’t often I drove myself anymore, only when I needed to think and I had a lot of thinking to do.

It was dark at the house, that suited me. The only light was in the hallway and the dining room, food ready for me. I wasn’t hungry.

I went to my study and sat by the glow of the desk lamp, staring into the distance but not seeing anything.

Come on, I told myself. You’re Jamie fucking Spencer. Pull yourself together.

I managed it in the end but it took most of the night. I was one day into ten. I could make it through another nine without issue if I just concentrated on what mattered. Bury your feelings like you buried your wife.

I left the study at one in the morning and went to bed. Getting undressed, I smelt her on my skin and that made me shiver, reminding me of how she had smelt when underneath me, that light sweetness like no one else I’d known. Her skin, the softest I’d touched, that hair, so supple, so silky, hint of coconut to it.

I shook my head. Shut the feelings down. Remember what happened last time you fell for someone? You had to bury them.

What would Christine think of this situation, of the person I’d become since she died? If she was looking down on me, would she approve?

Not long after she was told it was terminal, we had a conversation. She told me she wanted me to move on after she was gone, not mourn for her, not drown in self pity.

I hadn’t done that. I had locked pity away, barely shedding a tear for her since it had happened. Instead, I had become this cold, empty inside. Until tonight.

Would she have wanted me to fall for someone else? I doubted it. She told me to move on but this?

I was only able to sleep after setting myself some rules for tomorrow. I would reboot things. Feelings, locked away. No gentle love making, no soft kisses where her lips made my insides float upwards into the sky, none of that.

I would be the Dom I was supposed to be. No self doubt, no worries, no emotions, no thinking about the past.

I would break Rosa, turn her into a sub. Then I would give her to the club, become a member and indulge all the pleasures of the flesh in there, locked away like my past, hidden from the rest of the world.

Rosa could have my cock in her mouth but that was all it was, no connection, no thinking of those sparkling eyes, that smile of hers, the way she was so eager to please, the softness of her moans.

Stop it.

I shut down all feelings. Only then could I sleep.

The next morning, I felt much better. I was able to brush last night under the rug, it hadn’t been as bad as I thought. I’d been able to handle things, I hadn’t lost it at all.

“You’re Jamie Spencer,” I said into the mirror as I adjusted my tie. “People move aside when you walk towards them.” I pointed at my reflection. “Don’t get too close.”

I headed downstairs, looking at the blue sky outside as I drank my coffee. A fresh start, a good day for it. Spring seemed to have come at last.

I had cleared my work calendar as best I could for the ten days and other than a meeting late in the afternoon, I had most of the day free to spend with Rosa.

I was there just before eight, the executive lift manned by Josephine, about to come off the night shift. I had people there twenty-four hours. It wouldn’t pay for there to be any risk of trespassers trying to get through the locked door.

“Good morning, Mr Spencer,” she said, tapping the button to open the door.

“Morning,” I muttered but my thoughts were already on Rosa. Was she awake yet?

I looked at the cameras on my phone. No sign of her. She must still be in bed. Her clothes were gone from the Rose room. Had she collected them?

I realised I’d forgotten to lock the doors in my rush to get out of there last night. That was what happened when emotions got involved. You got sloppy.

I stepped out of the lift and dumped my briefcase in my office, gathering a parcel from the desk before returning to the locked door. I stood outside it. Don’t get close, I told myself before turning the key and walking through.

I found her in bed, laid on her side, eyes closed. She looked stunningly beautiful. The sound of me opening the door made her stir and as she did so, I crossed to the wardrobe and chose an outfit for her. Then I moved to sit in the armchair, waiting patiently, reading the questionnaire she’d filled in. Only when she shifted onto her back and opened her eyes did I speak.

“Good morning.”

She shot upright, looking at me in panic, as if she thought she might still be dreaming.

“Get dressed,” I said, getting to my feet. “I’m taking you out for breakfast.”

She reached up to her neck and I knew what she was going to say. I shook my head. “The collar stays on.”

“Last night-”

I interrupted her. “You will say nothing today unless spoken to. Is that clear?”

She opened her mouth and then closed it, nodding slowly.

That was the easiest way. I couldn’t be talked into feeling things for her if she didn’t say anything.

“Wear these things and meet me outside in five minutes. You will find a toothbrush and anything else you might need in the bathroom. Be quick.”

I walked out of the bedroom and closed the door behind me, smiling to myself. Easy. I was back on track.

She appeared just in time, stepping out and nodding, clearly wanting to speak but deciding obeying me was more important.

“Take this,” I said, passing her the parcel. “It’s a phone. This morning, I’m going to test how submissive you can be. You will eat alone but I will be watching. You will receive text messages from me. They will contain instructions. You will follow them to the letter. I will know if you do not. Is that clear?”

She nodded slowly before tearing open the parcel.

“It’s already charged and will take and receive messages only from my phone. Let’s go.”

I walked out, making sure to lock the door behind us, before crossing to the lift. Once we were inside, I moved towards her, seeing that flash of fear in her eyes that I’d seen last night, the fear of what she was feeling, the fear of enjoying submitting to me.

“This will be scary,” I said. “But it will be worth it.”

I said nothing else until we emerged into reception, the place just starting to come to life.

I could tell she was nervous, wondering if people were looking at her collar. I enjoyed seeing her that way, it meant that mentally she was clinging to me for reassurance, just the way things were meant to go.

I walked with her out of the building and over the river towards the Minster. On the corner of the pedestrianised streets there was a cafe that was just perfect for what I had planned.

“Go in there and be sure to take a window seat,” I said, pointing over the road.

I watched her go before retreating to the nearby bench. From where I was sat, I could see her perfectly as she went inside and took the table in the corner, sitting looking out, glancing at me and then jerking her head away, as if ashamed at being caught looking.

Around me the city was waking up. I could hear the thrum of traffic in the surrounding streets but here it was still quite quiet. People were heading to work, students on their way to university, the first of the day’s tourists gathering over by the Minster, taking photos of the stonework.

How many of them would notice what I was about to do? How many voyeurs amongst them? How many secret exhibitionists who would love to be brave enough to do what she was about to do?

But then, was she brave enough? I’d soon find out as would she. This would tell her things about herself, about how submissive she was willing to be.

The answers in the questionnaire gave me a clue, hidden within the wording. Time to test it out.

I texted.

 

Order a coffee and croissants.

 

Then I waited, watching as she picked up the phone and examined it. A few seconds later, a waitress appeared and though I couldn’t hear the words, I could somehow tell she was doing exactly what I said. That was a good start.

A minute after the waitress left her, I texted again.

 

Undo the top button of your blouse.

 

I looked at her closely as she read it and then frowned. She glanced up, looking out at me. I nodded slowly.

She put the phone down on her table, reaching up to her blouse and using fingers of both hands to undo the top button. A hint of neck came into view. I looked further into the cafe and could see the waitress was bringing the coffee to her. Just as it arrived, I texted again.

 

Undo the second and third buttons.

 

She looked out at me again and although the fear was still there in her face, I saw something else. I was right about the questionnaire. There was an exhibitionist hidden inside her. It just needed the command to be allowed out.

She slowly undid the second button, but only after the waitress had walked away, leaving the coffee with her. When the third button was undone, she paused. For a moment I thought she was going to do it straight back up. I held my breath but relaxed when she put her hands around the mug instead, lifting it to her lips and taking a sip.

Three buttons undone, her cleavage exposed. Anyone passing by the window would see, would judge, would have no idea she was only doing it because I was telling her to.

 

Undo the fourth button.

 

This time she barely hesitated, the thin veneer of modesty pushed aside in her excitement. She undid just in time as the waitress brought her food. She nodded, thanked her, then began to eat. I watched for a moment, enjoying the sight of her chest, the top swell of her boobs visible in the morning light, her blouse falling open.

 

Go to the bathroom. Remove your bra and panties. Return to your seat. Leave four buttons undone.

 

That was a much stronger command but already I was sure she would obey. She had proved that. As soon as she received the message, she stood up, walking out of sight. I waited, tapping my foot impatiently as a pigeon hopped past, pecking at a few crumbs as it went.

When she returned to her seat, I sighed with relief. Even sure as I was, part of me thought she might leave instead, vanish into the morning. But there she was, blouse open, the bra no longer visible. In fact, if another button was undone, her nipples would be on show. She was displaying far more than could be seen as accidental.

The voyeur in me seemed perfectly matched with the exhibitionist in her, just as her submissive nature was a perfect match for my need to dominate. I wanted to fuck her again, the urge coming from the sight of her displaying her chest so blatantly for anyone to see. A man in a suit strolled past, doing a double take as he happened to look in through the window.

“Just keep walking,” I said quietly as he paused in place.

He moved on. I watched as Rosa ate and drank, acting as if she wasn’t on the verge of flashing the entire world.

I waited until she was done eating before sending the next message.

 

Undo the remaining buttons. Sit perfectly still facing the window. Count to fifteen. Only then are you permitted to put on your jacket and leave. I will be waiting outside.

 

Would she do it? I felt so powerful in that moment, all doubt left me. Of course she would, I had told her to.

She did.

It took her several seconds to work up the courage but then her hands went to the blouse, slowly undoing it. The two sides fell free as she shuffled in her seat to face the window. If the man had walked past at that moment, he’d have seen much more than just the top of her boobs.

Anyone might look in. The thought made me stand up and start to walk over. I counted silently in my head. Three, four, five.

As I crossed the street, a group of tourists walked by, one of them looking in and seeing her. I could see why he was pointing so eagerly, talking to the others in a Slavic language I didn’t recognise.

Sitting like that, each side of the blouse was hanging down towards the ground but her nipples were clearly visible. Her face was bright red and she was staring pointedly into the distance, her mouth moving. She was counting too.

Nine, ten, eleven.

One of the group outside reached for his phone but I got to it before he could take a photo, snatching it from him and throwing it to the ground, stamping on it as the group turned to look at me.

“What the hell?” he said in a thick accent.

“Here,” I replied, passing him a few notes from my wallet. “Go get a new one.”

He looked at me but decided quickly not to take me on, snatching the money and walking away.

I looked back at the window but Rosa was gone. The door to the cafe opened and there she was, jacket zipped up tightly across her chest.

I could tell she was desperate to say something but she didn’t speak. She just stood there, looking nervously across at me.

“Come on,” I said. “We’re going shopping.”