ROSA

 

I was halfway there when the message came through. I pulled out the phone and looked at the screen. The message was sent as a list.

 

Go into Matteo’s (I have an account there, you will not need to pay).

Select a top through which your chest can be seen.

Select a skirt that is slit to the hip. Bring both to the office.

Enter the changing room and change into them. Leave your bra and panties behind. Message me when you are changed.

 

I read it through quickly, then I read it again. I turned the phone over in my hand, as if I was expecting something to be written on the back. ‘Fooled you,’ something like that. Then I read the message again.

I kept looking at it, trying to understand it. He was acting as if I hadn’t run, as if nothing had changed between us.

Okay, I told myself. Let’s think this through.

Why has he sent that?

Because he wants me to follow his instructions.

But why?

Because you haven’t finished your training yet.

Are you going to do it?

Of course not.

Are you sure?

I looked up. We were almost there. Matteo’s was a clothes shop two streets from his office. It had only been open six months but there’d been a big deal made of it, the first time the designer had opened a branch outside Paris and he’d picked York. I had to make a decision.

Would he give me the phone if I went to the office and demanded it? I could call the police and they’d make him do it.

I read the message again and as I did so, my heart started to race, picturing myself wearing the things he’d told me to buy.

It was as if I’d been asleep and all of a sudden, I was waking up, like from a dream where I wasn’t myself. This was who I was. The realisation was sudden, hitting me hard enough to make me wince. I wanted to obey him. I wanted to please him. I wanted to do anything to make him happy. Not just that, the exhibitionist in me was skipping into the light, bursting with joy.

You’re in for a hell of a ride, I told it. I had no idea what he was going to make me do once I was done but I got the feeling it would be humiliating, embarrassing, shocking, and I would love every minute of it.

“I’ll walk from here,” I said to the taxi driver, handing over one of my few remaining banknotes before pushing open the door. I thought about the last time I’d said that. I’d climbed out of a cab and run straight into Jamie Spencer, flashing him my panties on our first encounter. I got the feeling I was about to flash him much more than my panties.

Did this mean he’d forgiven me for running? That he still wanted me? I stood on the street for a moment, looking out at the water under the bridge. Things were very different to last time I was here but once again I had a choice to make and no one else could make it for me.

Get my phone and go home. Forget about him. Find another job somewhere. And then what? Carry on with my ordinary life, no fear, no anxiety about submitting to a Dom, being Maggie to his James.

What was the alternative? It was do something humiliating because he told me. It was to keep doing that for as long as he could think of things for me to do. It was to obey him to please him. It was to be excited and terrified and not know what was around the next corner.

Safe or dangerous. Take a risk or take a ride home. Two options. I picked up two tiny pieces of gravel. Whichever one hit the river first, I’d obey.

Left hand, go home. Right hand, do as he commanded.

I dropped the gravel into the water, turning away and heading for the clothes shop without looking back. I never knew which one hit first. I didn’t care.

Once I got to Matteo’s, I worked my way towards the tops. There was lace, there was silk, there was satin and velvet and there was the perfect top.

It was ostensibly a white shirt and was clearly designed to go over something else. The fabric was thin enough to see through close up but from afar it looked perfectly reasonable. I draped it over my arm, already scanning the racks for a suitable skirt. It took a couple of minutes but then I found it, pure white, matching the top, slit to the hip, calf length on me. I just hoped they’d fit. It wasn’t like he had lots of size options.

I undressed quickly, my hands shaking as I did so. In a couple of minutes, I was naked, looking at my body in the mirror. What did he see in that?

It didn’t matter. I shook my head, turning away and slipping on the shirt, buttoning it up. Without a bra underneath, the shape of my boobs were clearly visible as was the darkness of the skin around my nipples, the buds themselves jutting outwards. I was getting turned on just looking down, thinking of all those eyes on me when I walked to his office.

The skirt fitted perfectly and as long as I didn’t stretch my legs too far apart, I remained respectable. Too long a stride or too strong a gust of wind and it would be a whole other story.

“How will you be paying?” the shop assistant asked as I pulled back the curtain and emerged. Had they been waiting to pounce on me the whole time? Did I look like a potential shoplifter?

“It’s to go on Mr Spencer’s account.”

“Ah, Miss Harper, you should have said. Can I get you anything?” A slight glance down at my chest, enough to make me take a sharp intake of breath, nerves washing over me.

“No, thanks, I’ve got a meeting to get to.”

I headed through the shop, stopping outside. There was a slight breeze and knowing that I only had to flick my hand to flash the world was overwhelmingly exciting. It was like the fear inside me didn’t know whether to turn into joy or not so just kept my adrenaline pumping while it made its mind up. You should go back in, I thought. You should change. You should go home. Someone will yell at you.

 

I’ve done as you asked.

 

He replied seconds later.

 

Stand outside my building for five minutes. Arms behind your back. Interact with no one.

Sit on the steps for thirty seconds with your legs apart.

Then you may collect your phone.

 

I walked slowly towards his office, feeling as if the entire world was looking at me. I kept my face neutral, ignoring the glances at my chest that only served to make my nipples ache and throb with desire. It was knowing they would look and want to touch but could not, that was what did it the most for me. Touching was reserved for him.

I took small steps, trying to remain calm, hoping the breeze would grow no stronger. Only one gust panicked me. It came as I reached the far side of the bridge and took my by surprise. As it hit, my dress billowed sideways and for one moment, there was nothing I could do. A group of tourists were walking towards me and they all looked down at the same moment. By the time they worked out what they’d just seen, I was already past them, holding the dress down, making my way towards the office.

I ascended the steps to the front door but didn’t go in. Instead, I stopped and turned, standing to one side, my arms behind me, my fingers churning together out of sight.

Most people were too busy to even notice me. The few who did looked away quickly. Each time, my heart would thud as I waited, wondering who might tell me to leave, call the police on me. But why would they do that? All that could be said was that my top was a little thin, was that even a crime?

He knew what he was doing. From where I was, I could see the clock on the side of the office building on the far side of the road. One minute passed. Then two.

I did my best to keep my breathing under control, making sure not to meet anyone’s eye. I was also trying not to think about what I was about to do.

Would he know if I didn’t obey? Somehow, that didn’t matter. He had told me to do it so I was going to do it. This time I wasn’t going to let fear control me. I was going to control it.  I was going to be the person  I was meant to be.

As the last minute ticked by, I breathed a sigh of relief. Beyond a few muttered words, no one had approached me and I’d maybe given a few people reason to smile while they were buried in paperwork.

Ten seconds left. Five. Done.

I looked down at the steps. Could I do it? Should I do it?

Before I answered myself, I was walking forwards, sitting on the second to top step.

It was twenty past twelve. Going to the clothes shop and back meant I wasn’t on time for the meeting with him but it also meant a lot of people were on their lunch breaks. From where I sat, I could see people on benches over by the river. In the windows of the far office, there was the glare of computer screens, meetings taking place, the wheels of industry turning.

I took a deep breath and then I did it. I pushed my knees apart, the dress slipping off my leg, leaving my thighs to catch the sunlight.

I held my breath. Time slowed to a halt. I was flashing my most intimate place to the entire world. It went against all the rules. This wasn’t allowed. This was definitely not what good girls did. I felt my cheeks burning red with shame, my toes curling as I tried to keep calm, tried not to move, counted down the seconds in my head.

People saw. Of course they saw. Office workers doing double takes, couples on romantic breaks glancing and looking away in embarrassment, as if they were the ones doing the shameful thing, spying on me. Others openly stared. Ten seconds to go. I still hadn’t taken a breath and I was forced to do so, gasping and then filling my chest with air. My body tingled as the eyes continued to glance my way but then as the seconds faded, I stood up and then it was over. Like it had never happened.

I felt like punching the air. I’d done it. I’d obeyed his instructions. I hadn’t run. I’d done something I couldn’t take back. So many people had seen me and I was so turned on, I could hardly walk.

I made my way inside, walking over to the lift which was open ready for me. The attendant gave me a brief nod as the door closed. Did she know? She looked down at the last moment but I just smiled. I didn’t care what she thought. I cared what he thought.