Chapter 34
Jamie awoke Friday morning in the manor up in the hills. Sun streamed through the faraway window, bright and early enough to stretch toward the king-sized bed. Etta… She half expected to find her fiancée in bed before remembering Etta spent the night at the penthouse.
Barbarossa rose with Jamie, arching her back and smacking a paw against Etta’s pillow. When orange and white fur flopped against it, Jamie decided it was time to get up. It was going to be a long and probably tiring day. Assuming she didn’t die of frustration first.
Today’s the day. Jamie spent half the night on the phone with Etta, going over what would happen.
Today I serve her, wholly and unconditionally.
Jamie still wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
It wasn’t easy to simply say, “Sure, Etta, I’ll do whatever you want.
” Not with the emotional closeness they shared.
Almost too easy when they had a wad of cash between them, back in the old days.
Here was what Jamie knew: Etta left a series of instructions to follow, much like when she woke up the day of the proposal.
There was a safe word she could use at any time to end their scene.
However, instead of giving her a warning safe word and a kill-switch, Jamie only had the kill-switch…
so she had to make damn well sure that she wanted to end the scene.
This probably meant she would be pushing herself in ways she otherwise wouldn’t… normally.
Good thing I trust the dumbass.
Her phone chimed with a text message. From Etta, of course.
“Good morning, my flower. Did you sleep well? I had a courier deliver a letter with instructions. If Beatrice found it like she should have, it will be slipped under the bedroom door. Please read it and follow the instructions closely. I look forward to seeing you this afternoon.”
Jamie slammed her head against her pillow and pretended she had five more minutes.
She told Etta she would sleep in until nine, probably, even though she went to bed around eleven after updating her wedding registry and then playing some online games.
Her parents were gone for the weekend – off visiting a local co-op farm that they hoped to glean some ideas from.
Etta had practically arranged it. When Amanda passed her notes on “local farms for hippies,” Jamie almost laughed herself to death.
Anything to get the in-laws out of their hair for the weekend.
Eventually, she had to get up and start this strange day.
Sure enough, there was a message in front of the door. After making the usual bathroom run to freshen up, Jamie sat on the edge of the bed with the letter in hand.
“Today you are mine, unequivocally. Your body, your words, your deeds, and even parts of your heart, soul, and mind belong to me. They are yours to use, but today, you don’t have to think about using them. I will use them for you. Today, you are pampered through my alleviation.
In return for my generous scripting of your day, you will show the world what a good wife you will be.
What happens today will show my business associates and their companions that you truly are the best woman I could ask for.
You will be submissive to your greatest degree.
You will defer to me. You will serve me, in any way I ask.
You will not question me or my motives. I am asking you to put your morals and ethics into my hands.
I promise to take good care of them, as is my responsibility.
I understand that this may make you wary. It’s asking you to give up a lot of your control, in ways that I usually don’t ask for. Trust me, Jamie. That’s all I ultimately ask of you – for you to trust me, the woman you’re going to marry.
If you decide that you are too uncomfortable to continue our scene today, use your safe word.
I won’t be angry, but I implore you to not use it unless you are absolutely, 100% sure that you cannot continue.
By the end of today, when you resume your control, you will realize how much closer we are as a couple. That is my hope, anyway.
Let’s begin: your first command, which will last throughout the day, is to keep your words to yourself.
Your voice is one of the sweetest in the world.
Hearing it makes more than this woman happy.
That’s why you must keep it to yourself.
I don’t want to hear a word out of you unless I ask you a question or you need to use your safe word.
Your voice is a treasure that only I want to indulge in.
Usually, you may use it freely in this world, but today?
I’m keeping it locked away. You will not speak to anyone unless it’s an emergency.
You will not speak to your friends, your parents, our staff, or the assortment of people you come across.
Not without my permission. You may find other ways to communicate if you swear to not reveal what we’re doing. ”
“Fuck off,” Jamie mumbled, patting the cat behind her. “There. How about that?”
“I promise that we’ll have an interesting time today. Now, if you agree to these terms and swear yourself and your service to me, text me with the phrase, ‘Yes, Mistress.’”
“She has got to be kidding.” Was Etta nuts?
Or was she mad with power? Probably both, knowing her.
This was exactly the kind of thing she would have asked for when Jamie was nothing more than a paid employee of the administrative and sexual variety.
Jamie would have done it freely too, mumbling beneath her breath, but counting down the hours until she got her millions.
I probably would have liked it. Every minute of it.
This was the woman who showed Jamie that she could love kinky Domme/sub play, after all.
Jamie laid the letter in her lap and groaned. She did like the power plays Etta sometimes sprang on her.
In fact, Jamie would haggle a bargain that she preferred the Domme/sub mental power plays to the physical kink.
Maybe she was more of a Monique than she realized.
No, Jamie didn’t want to live every day in “service” to her “Mistress,” but she wouldn’t mind it occasionally.
There was a lot hot about it. As Etta said, all of the control was taken out of her hands.
She didn’t have to think about anything.
She was at the whim of a woman who wanted to do whatever she wanted to her – and yet Jamie trusted her because she knew that everything Etta conjured was for both of their benefits.
Every sex act, every command, every stern gaze was meant to make her quiver and feel closer to her Domme.
She was right… Jamie was stressed to hell and back.
When she wasn’t trying to learn how to be a good wife, she was planning a huge wedding with so many pieces still missing two months before she got hitched.
She wants to show the world what a good wife I can be?
What did Etta mean by that? Jamie would have to find a way to ask her later when they were alone.
She hoped it wasn’t as gross as she feared.
Except she knew Etta well enough now to know that she wouldn’t be gross on purpose.
Not the Etta she was engaged to. She hoped.
Jamie swallowed her pride. She had no pride today.
She was a wisp in the wind, a ghost gliding on the breeze, not thinking of anything and not having to think about anything.
It could be nice, she supposed. Having Etta take care of everything, and all she had to do was listen to what she said? For one day?
She picked up her phone and hovered over the reply button. Time to start this party.
“Yes, Mistress.”
She heaved a breath. A sigh of relief? Maybe. It was too early to say.
Etta’s reply came. “Go to my closet. On the back of the door is your outfit for today.”
Oh, good, she had even saved a poor girl from the horror of having to choose her own outfit. What a grand gesture!
Jamie went to the closet. Not her closet, like she usually did, but the one beside it.
Etta’s closet was almost as big as hers.
It had to be, if it was going to hold fifty tailor-made suits, shirts, shoes, and a panel full of ties.
There were women poorer than Etta who had electronic closets.
They not only chose outfits for the hapless women who had no idea what they were doing, but they would take pictures of the clothes and keep them in a database so the unfortunate sod never wore the same outfit twice.
Sounds boring. Both Jamie and Etta agreed that not only was that hilariously excessive, even for a billionaire, but who gave a shit about wearing the same outfit twice?
Well, Adele seemed like she would care, but Monique would not care unless it had to do with certain functions.
Would Kathleen care? Probably not. Eve Warner definitely didn’t since she always looked the same – badminton courts aside.
Besides, Jamie knew for a fact that when a woman found the perfect outfit, she would damned well wear it to death, as God intended. Be buried in it too. So, literally to death.
Nevertheless, Jamie was always impressed when she went into Etta’s closet, which she did often enough when helping her pick out a shirt off a rack.
She also had a sizable watch collection.
The woman had always favored Rolex, but after being informed some years ago that women of her standing simply did not wear Rolex, she upgraded to Cartier and insisted on staying there.
One of those watches was missing now. Probably on her wrist at this moment.
It was bright in the closet. Etta and Jamie’s walk-in abodes were side-by-side, but Etta had the advantage of having a panel of windows overlooking the back gardens.
Barbarossa wandered in behind Jamie, who stupidly left the door open.
She spent more time herding the cat out before she could get fur all over Ms. Armani and Brioni.
The moment Jamie shut the door, almost locking herself in her fiancée’s closet, she saw her outfit for the day.
How long had it been hanging there? Since Etta confirmed that Jamie wanted to do this? To know that it had been here this whole time… and why it was there… Jamie plucked it off a hook and gazed at it.
She had never seen this outfit before, but it was far from the first time Etta picked something for her to wear.
The dress from their engagement night, however, was different.
That had been completely to her tastes. This?
Well, it was appropriate for going out in public, but it screamed This is what Etta wants to see me in.
To most, it looked like a simple black dress.
Form-fitting, off-the-shoulder, sweetheart neckline.
A diamond-studded belt hung from the hanger, one end in an obscure loop on the waist of the dress.
If that wasn’t extravagant enough, Etta had included the black lingerie set Jamie had bought in Miami.
She hadn’t even realized that it was missing from her bureau!
Shoes hung from another hook. Black pumps with a sensible height. Am I walking a lot today? Jamie couldn’t help but note a severe lack of tights. Etta was not a stocking and tights woman… unless the rest of her was naked. She liked to see as much skin as possible.
This was ridiculous. Yet Jamie checked for more items, finding a black velvet bag of jewelry and other accessories for her to bedeck herself in. She took the outfit back to the bedroom, where Barbarossa swished her tail in agitation.
“What do you think?” Jamie asked, stripping down and changing into Etta’s outfit. “Do I look like a billionaire’s fiancée? Or a slut?” Why couldn’t she be both? Honestly.
To be fair, Jamie did look like a high-class call girl, almost as if she worked at Monique’s Chateau.
This is what she decided when she saw herself in the mirror, the dress hugging her body as it tapered around her thighs and barely kept her breasts from spilling out.
Yet if she shook the bust enough, they disappeared to the point she was acceptable in a business setting.
The belt twinkled around her waist, long enough to drape against her leg when she walked.
Classy jewelry fell from the velvet bag and onto the bed.
To match her sapphire-studded engagement ring, Etta had included a pair of black and blue earrings and a sapphire anklet that almost matched the set she had given her before. Almost. The style was off.
Speaking of the set, there was her collar, falling last from the satchel.
Of course. Couldn’t be a day of one endless scene unless Jamie was sporting her sub’s collar. The world had to know to whom she belonged. It also matched her other jewelry, even if it didn’t really match her dress.
A text lit up her phone as she stared at her reflection. This is her vision for me, huh?
“Beatrice has your coat downstairs. Leave your hair down. Bring whatever bag you want. Wear whatever makeup you want. Look pretty for me.”
Look pretty for her! Didn’t she always?
Jamie sat down at her vanity, stomach starting to growl.
First things were first. Makeup. She wasn’t a woman who wore a lot of makeup, but she went the extra mile today, touching up the mascara, the eyeliner, and heavier red lipstick than she usually wore.
Not too much blush. More concealer than blush.
Jamie had a feeling she would be naturally blushing enough.
“Miss?” Beatrice knocked on the door. “Your breakfast is ready. Are you coming?”
Here we go. Jamie went, slipping into the pumps before opening the door and smiling at Beatrice. From now on, there would be no words, but that didn’t stop her from having facial expressions.
“Why, Miss…” Beatrice was the one at a loss for words. “I didn’t know there was something special going on today. You look beautiful! Now I feel bad that Ms. Coleman called to tell me that your voice is gone today. Hope it’s only temporary. Feel better.”
Jamie nodded her thanks and went down to breakfast.