night. Sometimes they were the rogue dreams of fancy, the kind that said, “Things could have worked out so much better,” while others turned into absolute nightmares from the onset. The hateful things he said to her, the way he treated her in public, the way he shut her up in his guarded palace to ensure she had no agency. Love had trapped her with him. No amount of reasoning could have saved her, until he went out and brought another woman home.
Maybe I’m not ready. Monica sat at her desk, wishing she had a crystal ball to tell her what to do. This was why she didn’t like having relationship balls in her court. Too much pressure. Too much anxiety for a submissive like her. She wanted Henry to set the rules and then follow through once the conditions were met. If only there were some magical words Monica could say to make him appear.
I’m desperate. A slut. An easy woman. She was sure that’s what people would say about her. The first man to pay attention to her like that after Jackson… and she goes running into his arms? Shit, Henry was right. If she were him, she would have abandoned the situation as well, no matter how hard her cock got.
Except there was a fallacy to his way of thinking. If he waited for Monica to be completely over Jackson, then he would be waiting forever. There was no way she would ever be completely over a relationship like that. Wasn’t that part of the reason she hid herself away in her brand new Château? So she could stew in her misery while watching other people around her enjoy themselves?
What did other women do? Did they force themselves to move on? Did they go up against men who told them that they weren’t ready? Did she insist that they were, then live happily ever after? Monica wasn’t even sure she believed in happily ever afters. She wanted to build a life with a good man, yes, but she also wasn’t a naïve little girl anymore.
Henry might hurt her. He might break her heart and cast her out. At one time Jackson was a kind, attentive lover who seemed to love nothing more than pleasing his sub. Who was to say that all Doms weren’t like that? Monica would like to see someone try.
She pressed her face against her hands and contained a sob as best as she could. She wanted to be much younger again, back when she first discovered the lifestyle and instantly jumped into all of the possibilities. Her first boyfriend had been as clueless as her when it came to domination and submission. At least those mistakes could be explained away with inexperience. What Jackson did to her later… there was no excuse for that.
Monica didn’t want to make that mistake again. She owed it to herself to find a man who both understood and respected her. If such a man could be found.
Either stop hoping or give it one last chance. Monica wouldn’t say she was jaded. Just cautious. In her lifestyle, she had to be cautious.
***
“To Mr. Henry Warren,
“You are cordially invited to attend a party thrown by Madam Monica Graham at Le Château on the night of Friday the 27 th . Parking and dinner will be provided.
“Formal wear is to be expected. Black tie not necessary.
“Failure to arrive may mean a severance from all future invitations. Please RSVP.”
***
“I’m ready.”
Chapter 8
To Serve And Be Dominated
Butterflies danced in Monica’s stomach that Friday night when she descended the staircase to greet the first guest. Contrary to what her invitation to Henry said, it was simply another night in the Château. Two patrons were scheduled to come in for appointments, but otherwise the only business that night was two walk-in clients who happily walked away with Chelsea and Judith to their rooms.
Mr. Carlisle entered, although he was early and thus Sylvia was not ready for him yet. Not until Monica took his hat and coat for him did he speak besides the usual greetings.
“That is a lovely shawl, Madam,” he said, gesturing to the light
Maybe I’m not ready. Monica sat at her desk, wishing she had a crystal ball to tell her what to do. This was why she didn’t like having relationship balls in her court. Too much pressure. Too much anxiety for a submissive like her. She wanted Henry to set the rules and then follow through once the conditions were met. If only there were some magical words Monica could say to make him appear.
I’m desperate. A slut. An easy woman. She was sure that’s what people would say about her. The first man to pay attention to her like that after Jackson… and she goes running into his arms? Shit, Henry was right. If she were him, she would have abandoned the situation as well, no matter how hard her cock got.
Except there was a fallacy to his way of thinking. If he waited for Monica to be completely over Jackson, then he would be waiting forever. There was no way she would ever be completely over a relationship like that. Wasn’t that part of the reason she hid herself away in her brand new Château? So she could stew in her misery while watching other people around her enjoy themselves?
What did other women do? Did they force themselves to move on? Did they go up against men who told them that they weren’t ready? Did she insist that they were, then live happily ever after? Monica wasn’t even sure she believed in happily ever afters. She wanted to build a life with a good man, yes, but she also wasn’t a naïve little girl anymore.
Henry might hurt her. He might break her heart and cast her out. At one time Jackson was a kind, attentive lover who seemed to love nothing more than pleasing his sub. Who was to say that all Doms weren’t like that? Monica would like to see someone try.
She pressed her face against her hands and contained a sob as best as she could. She wanted to be much younger again, back when she first discovered the lifestyle and instantly jumped into all of the possibilities. Her first boyfriend had been as clueless as her when it came to domination and submission. At least those mistakes could be explained away with inexperience. What Jackson did to her later… there was no excuse for that.
Monica didn’t want to make that mistake again. She owed it to herself to find a man who both understood and respected her. If such a man could be found.
Either stop hoping or give it one last chance. Monica wouldn’t say she was jaded. Just cautious. In her lifestyle, she had to be cautious.
***
“To Mr. Henry Warren,
“You are cordially invited to attend a party thrown by Madam Monica Graham at Le Château on the night of Friday the 27 th . Parking and dinner will be provided.
“Formal wear is to be expected. Black tie not necessary.
“Failure to arrive may mean a severance from all future invitations. Please RSVP.”
***
“I’m ready.”
Chapter 8
To Serve And Be Dominated
Butterflies danced in Monica’s stomach that Friday night when she descended the staircase to greet the first guest. Contrary to what her invitation to Henry said, it was simply another night in the Château. Two patrons were scheduled to come in for appointments, but otherwise the only business that night was two walk-in clients who happily walked away with Chelsea and Judith to their rooms.
Mr. Carlisle entered, although he was early and thus Sylvia was not ready for him yet. Not until Monica took his hat and coat for him did he speak besides the usual greetings.
“That is a lovely shawl, Madam,” he said, gesturing to the light
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