“You’re evil. Did you know that?” I asked, while moving into position.
His laughter sent chills of anticipation down my spine. “Oh, Abby, you’ve yet to see just how truly evil I can be.”
* * *
I shivered the next day, remembering that laugh and those words as I sat at my computer. Years ago, when I was a new submissive, Nathaniel had given me a journal to document my journey of sexual submission. I’d quickly filled that notebook with my thoughts and questions, and even my fantasies. When I filled a second, I’d suggested to Nathaniel that I keep the journal online as a blog.
I’d expected him to say no, but instead he agreed with me. His only request had been that I never wrote anything that could lead back to either one of us or our family. In the beginning he’d simply read my posts, but now it had grown to the point where he commented on them as well. My readers always liked it when he did.
I started out with Nathaniel as my only follower, but we were both amazed at how rapidly my readership grew. What began as a way for me to document my thoughts and experiences for myself and my Master had grown into a blog visited daily by thousands of people. The Secret Life of a Submissive Wife was growing into a real phenomenon.
Even so, I had never imagined getting an e-mail like the one currently sitting in my in-box. I read it again for the fifth time, just to be sure I wasn’t making it up.
Dear Submissive Wife,
I work at Women’s News Now. As you may be aware, we are part of the National News Network, the second-largest media corporation in America. I have been an avid reader of your blog, almost from day one. I love the way you discuss BDSM. You make it real, approachable, and sexy.
We are planning to increase our coverage of intimate relationships. As part of that expansion, I’d like to know if you’d be interested in talking with me about potential opportunities for you at WNN.
My contact information is below. I look forward to hearing from you soon.
Meagan Bishop
My hands trembled and I sat dumbfounded. I had actually been contacted by someone who worked for National News Network. Not only that, they read my blog and wanted to talk to me about “opportunities.” What kind of opportunities?
They owned several leading magazines as well as a handful of television networks. I didn’t know enough about them to know what else they had their hands in. Either Meagan would tell me or I could do some Internet research.
I glanced at the clock. I couldn’t call Meagan back immediately because it was time to pick Elizabeth up from preschool. Probably for the best, anyway; I didn’t want to appear overly eager. I would pick Elizabeth up, we’d have lunch, I’d cross my fingers that both she and Henry would take a nap at the same time, and then I’d call this Meagan Bishop back.
I found it difficult to think about anything other than the e-mail. I tried calling Nathaniel, but I got only his voice mail. I hung up with a sigh. I was busting to tell someone but it’d probably be more fun to tell him in person. And by the time he got home, I’d have spoken to Meagan, so I’d have more information.
Lunch took forever. While Elizabeth ate, I threw dinner together in the slow cooker. Henry refused to let anyone help him eat, so of course, when he finished, he had to be cleaned up. Fortunately, he went down for his nap quickly, but Elizabeth loved being read to and would try as hard as possible to stay awake so I could read multiple stories. She usually fell asleep halfway through the second and today was no different.
The house was blissfully quiet when I made it down the stairs to the library. I opened the e-mail again and, with my heart thumping so hard I could take my pulse by watching my shirt, I called the number Meagan listed in the e-mail.
“Meagan Bishop,” she answered brisk and businesslike.
I was surprised she answered her phone herself but I realized it meant she must be a pretty direct person. I liked that. “Meagan, hello. My name’s Abby. I run the Submissive Wife blog. I got your e-mail.”
“Oh, hey. Did you say your name’s Abby? I’m so glad you called. I’ve been dying to talk to you.” Her tone changed. It became friendly and less brash. “I love your blog. The writing, the content, all of it.”
“Thank you.”
“I feel like I halfway know you already, just from reading you. Crazy, isn’t it?”
“Not too much,” I said. “I try to be realistic and everything I write about actually happened. I don’t make anything up. What you read is the real me.”
“I thought so but it’s so good to have you confirm it.”
“I’ll be happy to answer any questions you have.”
“There will be plenty of time for that. Right now, you’re probably wanting to know more about our interest in you and your blog,” she said.
“I’ll admit I’m very curious about what opportunities you have in mind.”
A hint of her businesswoman persona slipped back into her voice. “Ultimately, that will depend on you and what you feel comfortable with. And we’re willing to break it up into baby steps. You can start out slow and if you want to do more and the need is there, we’ll look into you doing more.”
I smiled. “Baby steps. I like that.”
Meagan laughed and then continued. “We’re wanting to start a roundtable talk show about love and sex. As a tie-in, we need someone to write content for the Web site and we want that person to know what they’re talking about. You could still keep and post to your personal blog.”
My head spun. Me? Write? For a job?
“Meagan, I’ll admit my first thought is that surely you can find someone with more experience to write for you,” I managed to sputter out.
“Of course we could,” she said. “But we don’t want them. We’ve seen your work and we want you. Like I said before, your voice, your use of language is delicately sensual and that appeals to a lot of people.”
“Thank you,” I said, but my head was absolutely spinning. “Listen, I’ll have to give it some thought and get back to you.”
“Yes, please, take some time to think about it. For now, I’ll forward you some information. Also, if you think you’re interested, there’s a meeting in April in New York City. We’d love to have you come talk with us.”
I took the dates down and we said good-bye. I didn’t realize how long we’d been chatting until we hung up and Elizabeth came down the stairs.
I held out my arms and she gave me a not-quite-awake-yet hug. “Sleep well, Princess?” I asked her.
She nodded. “Can I cook with you tonight?”
“I’ve already started dinner, but you can help me make biscuits.”
That woke her up. Henry would probably sleep for another thirty minutes, so I gave Elizabeth another quick hug, said, “Come on,” and we headed to the kitchen.
* * *
I waited until the kids were in bed for the night before bringing anything up with Nathaniel. I found him in the living room watching a college basketball game while on the phone with his cousin Jackson. Technically speaking, they weren’t really talking; they were arguing about a call one of the referees just made. I sat down beside him and waited for them to finish. Nathaniel ended the call when the game went to commercial break.
He smiled. “Tell me.”
I didn’t even ask how he knew I had been waiting to give him some news. After so many years together, it had become second nature for him to read me so well.
“I got offered a job today,” I said. “A writing job.”
“You applied for a job?” There wasn’t any judgment in his voice, just surprise.
“No, nothing like that. They found me through the blog.” I summarized the call with Meagan while he listened intently.
“Wow,” he said when I finished. “What an incredible opportunity for you. You are going to meet with them, right?”
“I really want to.” I realized exactly how much when I said it out loud.
“Then do it. Chances like this don’t often fall in our laps.”
/> “To think something that started as a journal could possibly lead to writing for NNN’s Women’s channel.”
“I expect all the credit,” he teased. “Since I’m the one who made you start the journal in the first place.”
I punched his arm. “Going online was all my idea.”
“I know.” His expression grew serious. “I always said you were a wonderful writer. It’s about time someone else noticed. I’m proud of you, Abby.”
“Thank you.”
He brushed my cheek softly. “I had a phone call today, too. Though not nearly as exciting as yours.”
“Simon?” I guessed.
“Yes. His girlfriend’s name is Lynne. He said they’d be over at nine on Saturday.”
“Tell me about her. I don’t remember her from our last meeting with the group.”
He shook his head. “She wasn’t at it. Simon met her online a few months ago. They only met in person about three weeks ago. She’s really new.”
Without coming out and saying it in so many words, he was letting me know not to expect anything too intense in the playroom Saturday. Knowing Nathaniel the way I did, he wouldn’t want to do anything that could potentially turn someone off to the lifestyle.
“Simon’s really smitten, huh?” I asked. Though I didn’t know him too well, he’d been in the group for a good number of years and played with a variety of women. I couldn’t recall him being in a long-term relationship.
“Well, he wouldn’t be the first Dom in history to become smitten with an inexperienced submissive.” His hand moved to my knee and danced along my inner thigh. “I’ve never regretted collaring a certain untrained newcomer to the scene.”
“That certain untrained newcomer is thankful you took a chance on her.”
“The difference, I think, is that you were a natural, and apparently Lynne is very skittish.” He frowned. “I wouldn’t have had you over for the weekend if you were skittish.”
“Are you worried about Lynne? Do you think she’s jumping into this simply to be around Simon?”
“I thought about that, but Simon said it was just her personality. To be honest, I’m going to set aside some time for the two of you to talk. I’d like your view on her.”
I raised an eyebrow at him.
He laughed. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re an excellent judge of character and you’ve been in the lifestyle long enough to have an honest opinion about things.”
“I guess that makes sense.” What would it have been like if a more experienced submissive had talked to me before Nathaniel collared me all those years ago? Would they have found it odd I wanted to submit only to him and not any other Doms?
I set my hand over his and entwined our fingers. “I’ll talk with her, but keep in mind, the heart isn’t the most rational organ.”
His smile was soft and warm. “I know that all too well, Abby. All too well.”
Chapter Two
Friday afternoon I waved good-bye to Elizabeth and Henry as they drove off with Linda. The silence of the house greeted me when I stepped back inside and I stood in the foyer to let the stillness wash over me. I took a few deep breaths as if I could inhale quiet and make it a part of my body. I’d enjoy the quiet while I could; it wouldn’t be too long before I’d miss the messes and giggles.
As it had every other free moment I’d had this week, my mind immediately drifted to Meagan and her e-mail and phone call. I had answered her the night before and was waiting for her to confirm our meeting dates and times.
Thrilled to finally have some private time to be at the computer, I went into the library and checked to see if Meagan had replied. I tapped my foot as I waited for my e-mails to load and my heart jumped up to my throat when I saw she had. I read over the information she sent, marking on my calendar the meeting details. She’d also sent more information about the television show.
I finished reading everything and looked at the time. Four thirty. Shit. I shut the laptop down and hurried up to the bedroom. I’d have to rush if I was going to have time to prepare for Nathaniel. He worked in the city, so it’d take him a while to make it home to our Hampton estate.
He expected me to be in the playroom, waiting, by five o’clock. I barely made it.
Normally, a feeling of peace and contentment washed over me as soon as I knelt in place. But as I dropped to my knees the only thing on my mind was Meagan’s e-mail and the upcoming meeting. I thought about who I’d have watch the kids and what I’d wear to the meeting. My brain spun around in multiple directions before I realized how much time had passed. I couldn’t be entirely positive because he didn’t have a clock in the playroom, but I was fairly certain it was about a quarter after five. Where was he?
My knees ached. He wouldn’t mind if I stood up and stretched, would he? He’d never know and I’d hear him when he entered the house and could quickly get back into position. I wouldn’t even have to do it that long, just a quick stretch and roll of my shoulders.
Should I or shouldn’t I?
Another minute passed.
I should.
I lifted my head—and screamed.
Nathaniel was standing in front of me.
“Abigail.”
“Fuck, you scared me,” I said, my body shaking. How did he get into the house, much less the playroom, without me knowing?
“Obviously,” he said.
I straightened my posture and took a deep breath.
He walked with careful steps over to me. He simply stood quietly for several long seconds before saying, “Put your forehead to the floor with your ass in the air and remain like that so I can enjoy the sight of you.”
I was comfortable for about zero seconds. The position was humiliating; I knew how exposed I was. Behind me, he saw everything. I could hide nothing. To keep my mind off what he was looking at, I thought once more about the blog and the upcoming meeting.
Based on how the weekend went, I would have plenty of material to post. I wouldn’t have to resort to our past like I’d been known to do. The last three posts had been recycled from years ago. The downside to recycling posts was that he didn’t comment on them.
“You’re not with me, Abigail,” he said in warning.
He was right, so I cleared my mind of everything except him. I focused on what he needed and how to give it to him. At the moment, that was obedience. But thoughts of what he needed made me think of topics I could write about and it hit me that I’d have to find a way to fit blogging into my daily routine. It could no longer be something I did haphazardly.
I’d been a bit scattered since first receiving the e-mail. What I needed to do was create a schedule. Check e-mails only during specific times. I should probably set a schedule for writing, too. If the position proved to be what I hoped it might be, I needed to make sure everything was organized and balanced.
Behind me, Nathaniel sighed. “Move to the table. On your back.”
I stood up slowly, afraid if I moved too quickly I’d get dizzy from having my head down for so long. I didn’t look at Nathaniel as I crossed the room to the padded table. I knew I’d probably see disappointment in his eyes and I hated that more than anything.
I climbed onto the table, my body nearly sighing as it sank slightly into the supple leather. I closed my eyes and gave a tiny gasp as he blindfolded me.
“To help you concentrate.”
So it was that noticeable? I cringed inwardly that the weekend had gotten off to such a bad start and took a few deep breaths to clear my head. His hands swept over my shoulders and down my side. One of his fingers brushed a ticklish spot and I stifled a giggle. There were times he would tickle me during play, but I didn’t think this was one of them.
He made a noise deep in his throat and I stiffened. Maybe he’d wanted me to laugh. I wasn’t sure, and with the blindfold I couldn’t read his expression. I focused on his touch. He stroked over my hips, but didn’t go below my waist. He wasn’t gentle, so I