The Butler - 22. Chapter XXII
Greg sat back in his chair, slowly turning his glass by the stem.
“There is a bathroom here, and I’ve a mind to take you there, right now, and stuff myself into that mouth of yours, if your foot isn’t back where I told you to put it in five seconds.”
He said it conversationally but the heat turned all the way up for me; I was tempted to not do it, and see if he would make good on that. Something told me he most definitely would.
“I haven’t submitted,” I answered, sending a smirk.
“Yet. Two seconds...one…”
I returned my foot.
His hand found me again and he smiled; then I suddenly jerked when he pressed his thumbnail underneath and moved it up.
“Nuh-uh; keep it there. Sensitive?”
I could barely keep a louder response in.
The thumb now went to the ball of my foot, massaging. That felt nicer. I pushed to let him know.
“Mmm. And just so you know; it may be named dominance and submission but I prefer to term it as deferring. You would defer to me, not submit.”
Like companion as opposed to butler, I guess. Sounded...nicer. I liked the terminology.
“Now explain; how did I set you up?”
“When you took control of everything; you were already grooming me…”
I said it as a statement.
“Ahhh. Yes. It’s what I need, Chris. I need to control it all.”
It was the one thing I didn’t really get. Where did this need come from? And then the most simple answer came.
“Because only then do I feel I can protect us. You.”
“You want to protect me…”
He looked puzzled.
“Yes, of course. Nothing could get to you because it would have to go through me first, and I will do anything to prevent any harm to come to you. I’ll die first before I’d let that happen.”
That was the most romantic thing someone ever told me and he said it in such a matter-of-fact way, as if it was the most normal thing in the world. It really wasn’t. Not for me.
What was it with him and his ability to make me sniffle today.
I felt the prickling behind my eyes, blinking hard not to let the tear ducts produce. Oh hell.
“Chris? What’s wrong.”
Shaking my head, I inhaled deeply, looking up to the ceiling.
“Nothing. Gimme a minute.”
“Include me, Chris. Tell me. I can't help if you don't share your thoughts.”
His voice sounded concerned and I lowered my gaze to look at him.
“No,” I answered, “not bad at all. It’s all good. It's just; no one has ever said they wanted to protect me.”
He held my gaze.
“It's great to hear.”
His features sobered.
“So will you let me?”
The question wasn't unexpected. I knew what he wanted and would prefer that to start ASAP.
“I can't say yes or no just yet; I don't know if I could do the 24/7 thing. I know we’re starting over. I realize that includes accepting your Dominance. I have no issue with that. And what we're doing now is something I like. Getting to know you, talk to you. Slowly. I get that's not what you want, but...but the...giving up any say in what I do, want to do or when to do anything, that doesn't appeal to me.”
It felt good to have that out in the open now. Greg sat back, frowning.
“How about a trial period? Where we define limits. Guidelines.”
Surprised, I took a sip of wine.
“You’d be open to that? I thought you said you tried and didn't want to.”
“No, that was about casual. I don't want casual. This is working to establish commitment and trust. Of course we need time for that to grow; no one knows right away. You need to get to know the real me; I need to get to know the real you.”
Now I was really glad I'd said something.
“But understand that even a trial period is going to be the real thing.”
“A decade. Then three more to make sure.”
He hid a smile and I feigned to consider it.
“Three months?” he proposed.
“What happens if it doesn't work for me?” I asked, slowly.
“Have negotiations begun?”
“I guess they have.”
His eyes fluttered with mirth.
“I'm going to enjoy this.”
I had no doubt. And I think I would, too.
A waiter came to clear the table and then bring dessert. Waiting for the guy to get lost, I hoped he wouldn't see the empty shoe under my chair; all this time my foot had been snugly wedged between Greg’s legs.
“First; I'd like my foot back now,” I said, after the waiter finally got scarce.
“I thought this was a negotiation?”
“I like it right where it is.”
Yes, I could feel that.
“Fine. That's gonna cost ya...caning, collaring and cuffs.”
The mirth only increased in his expression. That had gone way too easy…
I narrowed my eyes at him.
“I don't care for bondage with, perhaps, the sole exception of birching,” he explained. “I'm not after physical pleasure only; I'm after both emotional and physical. My pleasure is rooted in making all the decisions, for the both of us, using the physical as added incentive. I'm not into corporal punishment or humiliating my partner.”
“Well played, sir,” I muttered.
But secretly I felt quite some relief.
I'd been in certain sessions where the Doms had been quite severe and though I got pleasure from some, many I hadn't, finding it either degrading or not pleasurable at all. But the money had been good and they'd allowed me to come, at least.
“That I do like, actually. You asked if you had to call me Master. I don't enjoy titles as such but I do appreciate respect. If you wish to let me know you accept my teaching, you could use ‘sir’.”
We both knew I wouldn't have a problem there. I'd called him such for years. Now I knew, though, why he'd seemed so pleased, all those years ago when we'd first met.
“What happens if I do something you don't approve of.”
“Punishment, or correction. Whatever you prefer to call it. I like the term punishment; it excites me.”
I didn't mind. And he was very honest about himself. I appreciated that.
“Usually it's immediately applied and always physical in nature.”
“What if I do it in a public place?”
“Then it happens there.”
Oh god. I was never gonna leave the house with him.
“In plain view?”
It caused a snicker.
“Even I am not that depraved. No, Chris...out of sight. Bathroom stalls, alleys, cars. I prefer fellatio, masturbation and fucking; I favor spanking and if I feel the need, partner marking as punishments.”
“If you don't want to do it, you’ll make sure I won't have to.”
“But you hope I'll slip up.”
“I know you will. That mouth of yours…”
He made a wincing expression and sound.
“...it will bring you in trouble. That independent streak of yours is another. And yes, I hope that very much. I look forward to it.”
Clearly. I felt it under my foot.
“What if something happens and we haven't covered it here?”
“Then we discuss it and agree on what an acceptable response should be. I will be fair in the degree of punishment but Chris; I will not fight. We can have an argument but it will be solved that same day. Agreed? We've fought enough to last us a lifetime.”
“We can agree on them, certainly, if you wish but I can guarantee you will never utter a single one; I don’t plan on ever giving you pain. I want your trust, your commitment and through that, love.”
He set his elbows on the table in turn pressing harder against my foot.
“You’ve had experiences where you had to use them? Safewords?”
“Hence taking caning, collaring and cuffs off the table.”
“I thought as much. We will decide on some, then. Just to have that in place.”
Reaching out over the table he covered my hand, lightly using his thumb to caress.
“As for other safety...”
“If you prefer, we can both get test...”
“I’m clean,” I blurted out, cutting him off.
I better be, I hadn’t been with anyone in years and had several checkups since, the last one right before we left for Hong Kong, last year.
“I know you are. As am I. I just wanted to make sure we are on the same page.”
So he’d read my medical records. They must’ve been in the study. I knew his father had kept them there.
He took his glass then and held it up.
Slowly reaching over, I lifted mine and lightly touched his.
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