surprised. Many Submissive women are very successful and powerful in their careers – they like to loosen up in their personal lives and let someone else take care of them at home. The woman on stage today – she's a high-powered attorney during the day, and the man whipping her is her husband. They've been together twelve years now."
"I see..." There didn't seem to be much to say to that, but I was suspicious and sure I was missing something. I stared at the coffee which had just materialized in front of me, wondering if I was overlooking something obvious because I'd drunk a bit too much.
Morgan was watching me closely. "You know, most women tell me it's a lot of fun being a submissive."
I snorted. "I'm sure they say that."
"Why are you here, Stella?"
The abrupt question caught me off guard and I looked at him, trying not to feel the sparks running up my spine, suddenly aware of his strong, oceanic scent. "Umm… Right. I came for a blogging conference and then I thought I'd have a break so…"
"No, not that. Mandy told me. I meant, why are you here, in my casino?"
He was staring at me, trying to draw the truth out of me, but I refused to give it to him. Why would I tell him that I'd been dreaming about him, fantasizing about being with him? I would never admit that. "I came to the Treasury because I liked it here last time."
"I see. And why did you go to Masquerade?"
I shrugged. "I was curious."
We stared at each other silently, the air throbbing between us, and I decided to sip my coffee.
Morgan leaned forward. "How curious are you?"
My heart leaped into my throat. "What do you mean?"
"I mean just that. Are you curious enough to want to try it out?"
I gasped. "Are you seriously hitting on me? And I hate that stuff, ew!"
Morgan chuckled. "I don't think you hate it, I don't think you even know what it is. But forget about it, you're far too childish to last more than a day as a submissive."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't try that trick on me."
He shrugged. "Whatever. It's up to you. Not everyone has it in them to be a sub."
"Are you kidding me?" My pride flared up, "I could be a sub anytime I wanted, I could be a perfect sub and nobody would be better than me."
"Hmm." He looked at me and finally said, "Why don't we make a bet?"
I was wary. "Like what?"
"That you can't last more than a day as a sub. If you like being a sub, I win. But if you last a week as my sub and you don't like it, you win, and I'll buy a one-year, $300,000 banner ad on your blog."
I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening. I'd wanted to be with Morgan for so long, and now I had a chance. But I didn't really want to be a sub, and Morgan clearly wanted someone who was into BDSM. If we didn't do this, I knew him well enough to know he'd pretend the whole thing had been a joke, and I'd probably never be with him. Or worse, he'd laugh at me for being chicken.
And besides, why did he think I was some kind of loser who couldn't be a sub if she wanted to? I was sure I wouldn't like it, but my blog hadn't been earning much the last few months. When I won the bet, the money he mentioned would come in handy.
I took a deep breath. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I could do a lot with $300,000. "Fine, the bet's on."
"Done."
We shook hands and Morgan said, "One week. You're my sub, and we'll see how long you last."
I nodded. "It's late and I'm a bit tipsy. Why don't we settle it tomorrow?"
"Right. Tomorrow, at 5. My office."
Chapter Two
I looked around the conference room. It was glass-paneled, and if someone walked past I'd see them.
The official setting made our bet seem ludicrous. Or maybe it made the whole thing seem even more intimidating? I couldn't decide.
Morgan sat opposite me, waiting for me to either read the contract or back out. This was my last chance – I could claim I'd been too drunk to know
"I see..." There didn't seem to be much to say to that, but I was suspicious and sure I was missing something. I stared at the coffee which had just materialized in front of me, wondering if I was overlooking something obvious because I'd drunk a bit too much.
Morgan was watching me closely. "You know, most women tell me it's a lot of fun being a submissive."
I snorted. "I'm sure they say that."
"Why are you here, Stella?"
The abrupt question caught me off guard and I looked at him, trying not to feel the sparks running up my spine, suddenly aware of his strong, oceanic scent. "Umm… Right. I came for a blogging conference and then I thought I'd have a break so…"
"No, not that. Mandy told me. I meant, why are you here, in my casino?"
He was staring at me, trying to draw the truth out of me, but I refused to give it to him. Why would I tell him that I'd been dreaming about him, fantasizing about being with him? I would never admit that. "I came to the Treasury because I liked it here last time."
"I see. And why did you go to Masquerade?"
I shrugged. "I was curious."
We stared at each other silently, the air throbbing between us, and I decided to sip my coffee.
Morgan leaned forward. "How curious are you?"
My heart leaped into my throat. "What do you mean?"
"I mean just that. Are you curious enough to want to try it out?"
I gasped. "Are you seriously hitting on me? And I hate that stuff, ew!"
Morgan chuckled. "I don't think you hate it, I don't think you even know what it is. But forget about it, you're far too childish to last more than a day as a submissive."
I narrowed my eyes. "Don't try that trick on me."
He shrugged. "Whatever. It's up to you. Not everyone has it in them to be a sub."
"Are you kidding me?" My pride flared up, "I could be a sub anytime I wanted, I could be a perfect sub and nobody would be better than me."
"Hmm." He looked at me and finally said, "Why don't we make a bet?"
I was wary. "Like what?"
"That you can't last more than a day as a sub. If you like being a sub, I win. But if you last a week as my sub and you don't like it, you win, and I'll buy a one-year, $300,000 banner ad on your blog."
I closed my eyes. This wasn't happening. I'd wanted to be with Morgan for so long, and now I had a chance. But I didn't really want to be a sub, and Morgan clearly wanted someone who was into BDSM. If we didn't do this, I knew him well enough to know he'd pretend the whole thing had been a joke, and I'd probably never be with him. Or worse, he'd laugh at me for being chicken.
And besides, why did he think I was some kind of loser who couldn't be a sub if she wanted to? I was sure I wouldn't like it, but my blog hadn't been earning much the last few months. When I won the bet, the money he mentioned would come in handy.
I took a deep breath. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. I could do a lot with $300,000. "Fine, the bet's on."
"Done."
We shook hands and Morgan said, "One week. You're my sub, and we'll see how long you last."
I nodded. "It's late and I'm a bit tipsy. Why don't we settle it tomorrow?"
"Right. Tomorrow, at 5. My office."
Chapter Two
I looked around the conference room. It was glass-paneled, and if someone walked past I'd see them.
The official setting made our bet seem ludicrous. Or maybe it made the whole thing seem even more intimidating? I couldn't decide.
Morgan sat opposite me, waiting for me to either read the contract or back out. This was my last chance – I could claim I'd been too drunk to know
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