Peter is more than just a partner this weekend.
He’s a Dominant.
This is a weekend of power exchange, of strength, of Dominance.
“Daddy,” I whisper.
“Ah, so you can remember,” he says. “Why don’t you apologize for your poor memory just a moment ago, Heather?”
“I’m sorry, Daddy. I won’t forget again.”
“See that you don’t,” he says. I crawl past him into the house and he swats my bottom as I do. Fuck. Maybe this is going to be harder than I thought.
Chapter Two
Heather
Peter closes the front door and follows behind me. He stays back where I can’t see him. As a semi-experienced submissive, I know this is for two reasons. First, he’s testing me to see if I listened. If I find the living room on my own, he’ll know that I was paying attention and that I can obey. Second, he wants to see if I’ll look back at him. If I do, I’ll be punished.
A third and probably incredibly beneficial reason is that he gets to see exactly what I’m wearing under my dress as I crawl.
The answer is nothing.
I’m wearing nothing.
Maybe I should have played coy and worn panties, but that wasn’t part of the agreement, now was it? Nope. Peter wanted me in a dress and heels and nothing else, so that’s what he got. Only now as I’m crawling to his fucking living room, I’m wishing there was something to separate me from his steely gaze.
Nobody says “no” to Peter Montgomery.
This is probably because they’re scared of him.
He’s a scary fucking dude.
His eyes are stuck on my ass as I crawl across the floor. I’m sure he can see my pussy lips peeking out, too. It’s a tiny dress, after all. That’s what he wanted. He wanted me dressed to impress, so I went all out. Now, I’m a little embarrassed at the idea that he’s looking at me like this.
It’s not like no one has seen me naked or something like that. I’ve been seen naked. I’ve slept with plenty of people both at the club and outside of it, but this?
This is different.
Intimate.
Personal.
Tonight, Peter is going to push me to my limits, and I’d do well to listen to him. I’d do well to obey him.
I know better than anyone else that there are going to be serious consequences if I don’t.
The entryway, like everything else here, is enormous. Peter’s home opens into a large foyer that transitions into a big, wide hallway. There are several doors on each side of the hallway, which must be at least 10 feet wide. Aside from a lengthy rug on the floor, the space is weirdly empty. At the end of the hall is a staircase that leads up, presumably to bedrooms.
I want to ask him why there are so many doors in this hallway. Most mansions I’ve been in open to wide spaces. People like to have their guests walk in and feel amazed and awed. With Peter, everything is closed off. All of these rooms are separated from one another. There must be some sort of reason.
It’s not my job to ask, though.
It’s my job to fucking listen, so I crawl to the second door on the right and, like an obedient lapdog, I wait patiently for Peter – Daddy – to arrive. He doesn’t disappoint. He reaches over me and turns the knob. He pushes the door open and as I prepare to crawl into the room, he reaches down and runs his hand down my back and to my bottom. He slips his fingers under the hem of my dress and rubs them over my bare skin. His touch is like fire licking at my flesh and I wince both from pleasure and from fear.
He doesn’t seem to notice.
I crawl inside to the center of the room. It’s too dark for me to get a good look, but there’s a fireplace, a sofa, and several bookshelves with what look like novels on them. There’s a grand piano to one side of the room and lots of plants. So many plants. Why the fuck would anyone want that many plants in their home?