SIR (by Aria Steele) novel Chapter 6

The whole of Monday, and the whole of Tuesday, I find myself watching David at the office. Trying to work it all out.

He matches with me on everything.

Sel has emailed me a copy of his responses. Every single question, his answers are perfectly aligned with mine, and of the (very) few that don’t, he's only one scale away from me.

He’s had the Dom/sub relationship before. He isn’t interested in Tickle Torture, but rates Wax Play highly. He ticks almost all the bondage subcategories, except mummification. Sensory Play, Impact Play, Worships, all on the high end as well.

Needles are a no. Knives are a maybe. Surprisingly, the circle he’s put around ‘Average’ for voyeurism/cuckolding seems different. The ink is lighter. As though he isn’t sure. Denial and Edging are also average for him. They aren’t average for me, but I have easily pushed clients my way in the past.

Sel is right. He is fucking perfect for me.

And now, sitting next to him at the office while I diligently type notes of the meeting I’m currently in, I find my eyes glancing over to him more than I usually do. Thinking about meeting him that evening. Thinking about what I would say.

The thought of submitting to him is intriguing me more and more. But then the thought of submitting to anyone after so long is something I’m struggling with. I try to wonder how it would look, and then suddenly, that’s all I can think about.

“Nora?” He whispers, the sudden closeness of his voice in my ear making me jump.

“Hmm?” I look around, seeing everyone else looking at me. “My apologies.”

I look back to my laptop and hurriedly start typing again, finishing off the sentence I’d apparently stopped writing.

He clears his throat.

“How about we take lunch? Come back at one.” He says to the rest of the group. He stays in his seat as the others file out of the room. When the door closes behind the last one, he swivels in his chair to face me.

“Are you okay?” He asks, his words littered with concern, his hand coming to rest on my thigh.

An innocent gesture. But it doesn’t seem so innocent now I know his Dom preferences.

“Yes, I’m sorry. I had a late night.” I reply as I rub my eyes.

It isn’t a lie, but I always have a late night, and I’m used to it by now. This time though, I had a late night because I was distracted.

And the thing that’s making me distracted is now grabbing my chair, and pulling it round so that I am facing him as well.

“You’ve been different for a few days now.” He comments with a tilt of his head. “Is something going on? Am I working you too hard?” He chuckles.

“Never.” I tease back. “It’s just something…personal. I’m sorry it’s affected my work.”

“You’re still the hardest working person here. Apart from me, possibly.” He smiles, and I feel myself wanting to smile back. “If you need a day off, just tell me.”

“I’m fine.” I reassure him. “I’m just going to get some coffee, I’ll be back to myself in no time, Dave.”

I force myself to act normal for the rest of the afternoon.

When I finally get home, I find that I can’t have my pre-evening nap because I’m busy staring at the ceiling, thinking over and over everything I’m going to say to him at the club, what he could say back.

Before I know it, I’m getting ready to head to the club.

Tonight I decide to wear a chemise, dark lace covering my nipples and pubic bone, the rest a sheer window to my skin. The top frames my chest with straps that cross over my collarbone up to my neck, and I have also slipped on some black hipsters underneath. I’m not known for walking around naked, and that isn’t going to change just for him.

Nico helps ensure my wig and mask are on right when I come to the bar. David is already waiting in Room 5, one that is used for the first meetings. It has a desk, with no chair behind it, but a chair in front of it, a set of drawers to the side, and a closet in the corner. The drawers and closet are filled with beginner toys, ones that workers use to ascertain levels of interest, ease the clients in. I’m not sure if I’m going to be using them tonight.

I make my way to the room.

I don’t miss the way his head turns instantly to the sound of me opening the door. The nerves flood through me as I close it behind me, as his eyes rake over my outfit. He goes to stand, but I hold a hand out, telling him to sit back down, and I walk slowly towards the desk.

I pick up the file that Sel left there earlier, and stand in between the front of the desk and him, smoothly lifting myself up so that I can sit on the wood, and crossing a leg over the other as I open the file, not even glancing at him.

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