Thirty Vanessa
“Evelyn’s new necklace is pretty. I’m assuming it was your pick?” Lillian had been trying to extract details from me after discovering I accompanied Evelyn to Portland, deeming it sufficient evidence that we were romantically involved.
“Yes. I’m glad you agree. Now, continue with your report—you haven’t delineated sufficient attributes for me to pursue.” I clicked my pen, prepared to take more notes rather than indulge her curiosity about matters I would not be disclosing.
“Right. With those tangible results, I’m prioritizing our second structure for quality content. With the second plan, move—”
“I know the second structure, Lillian. Please carry on.” I rolled my eyes, not needing the obvious explained. “Or, if that’s all, I can share my updated proposals and you can go from there.”
“That’s all. You can just send them over later today,” she said, setting aside her papers. “I want to catch up now. You’re impossible to talk to when there’s work to be done.”
“Wonderful. Let’s talk about us. How have you been, Lillian? How was your cousin’s wedding? It was yesterday, correct?”
“Yes, it was.” She didn’t linger. “But I’m more interested in your weekend—especially the part where you spontaneously invited Evelyn on a getaway to Portland,” Lillian probed bluntly.
“It was not an invitation. It was more of a mutual suggestion, as we could both benefit from a trip to the city. It was a pleasant weekend, and I can recommend a few restaurants if you ever return,” I offered evenly.
“You’re never one to be shy when it comes to your particular tastes. I’m not going to judge you. I’m just happy you’ve found someone who isn’t an immature, manipulative snob,” she said, clearly attempting to ease my reservations.
“I appreciate your approval of my choices, regardless of how little it affects my decisions. However, what I do or do not confide in you is not solely a matter of my own comfort, but equally relevant to those I’m involved with.
If you deem it pertinent within the dynamic you share with Evelyn to discuss this matter, you may raise it with her. ” I folded my hands neatly on my desk.
“That’s fair,” Lillian conceded. “And yes, the wedding on Wednesday was nice.” She closed her binder. “I should get going, it’s already six—since you insist on scheduling our meetings so late.”
“Yes,” I replied coolly, “because you hold a position that requires a willingness to stay late when necessary.” I met her gaze. “As much as I have a reputation for being demanding, I can’t punish employees for unproductivity by assigning extra hours on a whim.”
“Save it for the bedroom,” she said, continuing when I didn’t react.
“And for what it’s worth, I’ve seen Evelyn working late some nights.
She shares your dedication. From what you’ve shown me of her work—those presentations of hers—I’ve noticed she’s an impressive woman.
Incredibly talented and bound to go places with those leadership skills.
You certainly have taste, both in employees and lovers.
” She paused. “And she’s lucky to have you, Vanessa. ”
With a wink to lighten her uncharacteristic sentimental moment she left.
After sending the files over to Lillian, an inevitable notification lit up my phone.
Evelyn: Can I touch myself? I haven't since Saturday night together, and that was five days ago.
Vanessa: I know you haven't, or else I would have received a message. And I'm perfectly capable of counting the days of the week, darling.
Evelyn: Please Vanessa, yes or no?
Vanessa: Do you own a vibrator, sweetheart?
Evelyn: Yes, why?
Vanessa: Good girl, I want you to use it. You're not to touch yourself again after tonight. You are to wait until I see you tomorrow.
Evelyn: Okay, thank you.
I put away my phone, having no intention of asking her for pictures or anything of the sort. Taking things online in that way wasn’t a risk I was comfortable with—nor was it something I would ever ask someone else to sacrifice their privacy for.
I would call her in a few hours once I was home and had added the final touches to her personal, unbiased letter of recommendation.
She didn’t need my help or an unfair advantage.
As Lillian had noticed, Evelyn was brilliant.
It was no surprise she was leaving—she was destined for far greater things.
After preparing something simple for myself, I took a warm shower, swallowed a pill for my migraine, and worked through the final steps of my rather involved nightly routine before calling Evelyn.
We spoke for a while, trading details of our days and enjoying the comfort of one another’s voices.
“Goodnight, darling. I know you’ll do exceptionally well tomorrow.”
I ended the call so we could both rest. She had her interview early, before coming into the office—though I wouldn’t have minded granting her an hour’s reprieve for it, and my head was beginning to throb.
Needing sleep to keep it from developing into something worse, I decided to wake an hour later than usual, hoping to lessen the chances of the migraine returning and undermining the day’s productivity.
After sending a few tasks to Adam and arranging to meet shortly after, I messaged Evelyn, asking her to come to my office.
“How was it?” I asked, pulling her toward the couch to sit beside me.
“Good. Like, really good. There were two of them—one a professor, one a board member. I definitely made a solid impression. I didn’t love the professor, but she seemed to like me, and I had strong answers for all the other guy’s questions.”
I cupped her cheek in my palm and placed a soft kiss on her lips. I had never initiated anything at work before, always keeping my roles and my two worlds separate. But today, I let the barrier slip. Sliding my arms beneath her thighs, I lifted her into my lap and held her securely.
“And when do you find out?” I asked, absentmindedly smoothing out her top.
“I think she said I’d hear back in a few days.
It was a bit unprofessional—the professor told me she personally hoped I’d get the position.
Something about the others being too old and her hating being the youngest. The rest of the interview was normal, and the guy didn’t seem a fan of her comments, so I’m not overthinking it. ”
I frowned slightly. “You’re right. That’s entirely unprofessional. How young would you say she was?” I adjusted the sweater draped over her shoulders, my perfectionism slipping through.
“She said she was twenty-six—so older than me. Apparently she was just hired too, so maybe she’s still learning how to conduct herself properly.”
“Most likely,” I said, though my expression remained thoughtful.
“Unfortunately, Adam is meeting with me shortly, but I’ll see you tonight.
” My gaze moved from her aquamarine earrings to her necklace, then settled on her equally blue eyes.
“Also, the box on the left side of my desk is yours, honey. They were out of chocolate croissants, so I got you a slice of pumpkin pie instead—though I doubt it will compare to mine.”
“Ooh—yay!” she exclaimed, lighting up as she threw her arms around me in a tight hug. “I’m excited to rate it.”
I pulled her into a quick kiss, which ended when she gave my hair one of her entirely uncalled-for yanks. After half-heartedly scolding her, I let her go, still smiling faintly.
She grabbed the pastry box on her way out, leaving me to wait for Adam.
He arrived exactly eight minutes later, instead of the expected six.
“I’ve prepared the job application sequence as best I could with the vague details you’ve given me. If you’d tell me more, I could refine it further,” he said, justifying himself preemptively.
“This will suffice, Adam. Nothing is official, so there is nothing for you to know,” I replied firmly.
“You haven’t fired anyone since Jane, so it’s been due. But if I understand correctly, you’re only considering firing someone—it hasn’t actually been done yet?”
I pursed my lips, which he took as confirmation.
“You’ve been more… how should I put this—benign—since the incident during the conference in Miami,” he added carefully.
“You have simply learned your lesson from the incident. But if you’d like me to remain genial, I suggest not mentioning it again.”
“Understood. Let me know if there’s anything you need. Have a good day.”
“Thank you, Adam. You made quick work of this. You should see a recent raise reflected in your email.”
“I appreciate that. Did I request one?” He asked cautiously.
“No. But you’ve been working hard lately. I’ve noticed, and I’m appreciative.”
“Thank you, Ms. Walton.” He didn’t quite manage to hide his lack of agreement. “Keep me posted on the hiring, if you can.”
“I’ll let you know if anything changes. It inevitably will, though not in the near future.”
He nodded, ending the conversation.
The rest of my day was unbelievably productive, and my migraine never returned, leaving me ready to give my full attention to Evelyn.
The smell of warm muffins filled my kitchen as they baked. By the time she pulled them out of the oven, I was desperate to taste one. Taking a break from washing the pot Evelyn had used to recreate a phenomenal soup, I walked over to sample one of the fresh muffins.
As I reached for the tray, my hand was sharply slapped away.
“Nessa, they’re still hot,” Evelyn warned, not realizing her mistake.
“Ah, so you’ve taken to slapping me now?” I tilted my head, fixing her with a stern glare.
“Well, yes. It was a momentary impulse.” Evelyn looked up innocently, nibbling on her bottom lip.
I raised a brow at her lack of apology.
“Sorry,” she added, glancing away.
When she pulled my hair—which she loved to do—I found it a bit cute, so she was usually let off with a simple apology. Being slapped, however, was a different matter entirely. A muttered sorry would not suffice.
“You will be soon. There are some mistakes I simply won’t let you get away with, darling,” I smirked, finishing with the pot.
“Next time, just be patient,” she shrugged playfully, testing her limits as she so often felt compelled to do. I liked that about her. Her submission wasn’t automatic; it had to be earned, which made it all the more meaningful.
“Would you like to take that back,” I asked evenly, stepping closer, “or should I make it easier for you to remember to keep your hands to yourself next time?”
“Arms up,” I whispered, smiling to myself as she eagerly obeyed.
“Since you seemed to enjoy wearing my scarf, why not swap it out for rope tonight,” I said, beginning to wrap the soft fabric around each of her wrists before securing them to the bed board.
Scarves were harder to tie—and even harder to undo—but with the practice I had, it barely took any effort.
Regardless, I always kept a knife in my bedside drawer in case of an emergency or sudden time constraint.
I did the same with her ankles, checking to make sure they weren’t too tight and that she could lie comfortably on her back without her muscles going numb. She was perfectly still, her bratty side no longer coming out to play.
"Face me," I instructed, lifting up her head and pulling her chin towards me to tie a silk blindfold around her eyes. The blind fold would heighten the sensation of pain, without me needing to spank her hard enough to where she would be sore. I didn’t seek to hurt her or leave lasting marks—there were far more significant ways to claim someone. In my mind, chokers were far preferable; they didn’t mar her skin with careless splotches or burst blood vessels.
"Perfect," I commented aloud, running a hand down her toned body. Though before I swung my hand, another idea came to mind.
“Evelyn,” I said, tilting my head slightly, “how would you feel about helping me test out a few things?” My dominant persona slipped slightly at my eagerness, but I didn’t care. “I have a collection of high-end paddles and floggers I’ve collected for aesthetics, but never used.”
Her expression lit with immediate curiosity. “I’d like it,” she replied, the honesty in her voice clear as a blush spread across her cheeks. I wasn’t surprised, considering how much she would squirm when I took her over my lap.
“Good,” I whispered.
One by one, I brought out each piece, making a show of trailing it lightly down her back before tapping her gently with it, slowly amping up the force.
If I’d kept on my favorite black Christian Louboutin heels—the ones with the sleek red soles—or even left my blazer on, it might have lent the moment a sharper edge.
It was the idea of me demonstrating my power over her, putting her in her place that I sought.
Not necessarily the pain as much for me.
But with her excitement matching my own, this was quickly feeling less like a punishment and more like indulgence.
By the third test, using my newest faux leather paddle—which seemed to be her favorite so far—I noticed her slipping slightly. I paused, giving her a moment, running my hands over the backs of her thighs to ground her before continuing.
“Here,” I said softly, placing something in her hands. “This one’s one of my favorites—feel it.”
I guided her fingers along the braided length of the whip, wanting her to notice the detail.
“Ooh, I feel the braids,” she said, her airy tone making her headspace clear. “I bet it’s so pretty,” she added, making me smile wider than I would have if she wasn’t blindfolded.
“Thank you, baby.” This was purely masochistic fun—neither of us even attempting to pretend otherwise. “Now tell me how it feels on your pretty skin.”
As I brought the whip down gently, a sudden, sharp throb split across my forehead.
I stilled, closing my eyes for a moment and taking a slow breath, hoping it was nothing more than a passing flare. But a wave of dizziness followed, paired with another blinding stab.
Acting quickly as the first wave of nausea hit, I slumped onto the bed and pulled down her blindfold.
“Evelyn, Kiwi.”