Dexter (Mistress & Master of Restraint) by Erica Chilson

you look pretty as a flower,” I bait her and she snarls asshole under her breath. I tsk-tsk her a few times and point to the door. She’s not my problem. If my cousin can’t rein her in we’ll give her to the Devil.
    Greta is next and she does look comfortable. I bet she used to dress like this before Ray Hunter came into her life. Now she covers her curves hoping not to draw undo attention un to herself. We can tell ourselves that it wasn’t how we dressed that created the attack, and it’s not. But fear isn’t logical and we will change to accommodate it.
    Greta, by society’s terms , is a large woman and she carries it well. I wouldn’t want her to drop a pound to satisfy those fucktards. Her large ass and thighs are encased in a pair of tight fitting, black slacks. I wonder what it would feel like to smack them with my pa lm. I shift my weight from foot-to-foot telling my little fucker to stop arousing. He doesn’t get to play yet.
    Her full breasts are barely contained by her purple blouse. The color looks fabulous with her darker skin tone.
    If Katya fails at publishing she should become a personal shopper. She chose the perfect outfits to showcase each of the ladies’ best characteristic s and hide their flaws. They look comfortable and sexy, yet classy. Even poor Kr istal looks great. I think she’ s feigning most of he r annoyance. I don’t think she’ s used to compliments. That’s what I’ m here for- pushing your comfort limits.
    “Wow, Greta, you look fabulous.” I say in astonishment remembering her awful khakis.
    “Thank you, Sir,” she says with a polite nod. She looks less restrained by her emotions- good.
    Alex approaches me with a huge grin on his face. He’s always dressed in a way the ladies find tasty, especially Kristal. Alex’ Native American ancestry gives him a unique bone structure and silky, inky-black hair. It swings happily near his chin. He tucks it behind his ear so that we can look at each other.
I liked Alex the moment I met him. Marcus kept him away from us all for almost a decade. He’s a teen-counselor at the community outreach program , Transcend. He’s an awesome guy, but low on dominance, even for a switch.
It makes sense that he’d be his girlfriend’s Master, but he can’t handle Kristal. Her manipulative nature is too much for Alex to handle.
    “Dexter,” he says smoothly and smirks. His blue-green eyes are filled with mischief.
I just shake my head at him over and over and laugh. Alex is dressed as me. He’s in a pair of black leather pants and nothing else. I ignore the fact that his six-foot tall frame looks damn good in those painted on pants.
    “Go,” I laugh, “Just go.”
Last up is the pair of Whittenhowers .
    “Whitt, you amuse me as always,” I snicker out. He’s wearing sweatpants, a hoodie, and a baseball cap.
    “Well, this is more comfortable than a suit. My father didn’t allow us to dress this way. I may adopt it permanently.” He smirks at the look of horror on his nephew ’s and my face .
“No, please don’t. You’re far too pretty to dress like this.” I cringe in mock disgust.
“Dim-Whitt,” I say to the younger Whittenhower.
    Niel is the heir to the Whittenhower dynasty. He’ s the first and only born son of the d eceased oldest Whittenhower son, Grant. Now Da niel the first , only has a daughter, Katherine, and baby boy, Whitt. The family’s youngest daughter, Adelaide, the bane of our existence, is at Wintercrest Asylum. The Whittenhower title was stripped from her when she wrote the tell-all book, The Masters of Restraint. Now if we could just figure out who gave her the information about us we would be one step cl oser to losing our six-foot- seven babysitter.
    “That’s not very nice,” Niel grumbles.
    He’ s wearing a track suit . I see a theme here. Must be there isn’t an athletic bone in the Whittenhower family. Either that or they were made to pursue mental hobbies- such as dominance. Fucked up