Chapter 13 Mira
Mira
Milly and Candy’s hands moved in slow, practiced circles, the lotion warming beneath their touch.
Both wore skimpy nurse outfits. Candy’s was so short it barely covered the curve of her ass, fishnet stockings disappearing into bright red garters.
Milly’s low-cut top framed her cleavage, the red lace push up barely holding her breasts.
I let my eyes close and breathed, letting the quiet attention melt into my skin. This time, I’d taken the town car that had been offered and hadn’t bothered with my hair or makeup. Mistress Vivienne had said everything was taken care of, so I’d shown up in jeans and a T-shirt.
Sleep hadn’t come easily last night. When it did, it only brought me back to him, to Mr. Reid picking up my phone, the mortification when I realized he’d seen the message on the screen.
The last thing I should’ve been doing at work was checking my personal email—let alone answering it. In my defense, I hadn’t wanted Sir to change his mind.
The last dream had me back at the club, bound, blindfolded, Sir’s voice low, his breath close to my ear.
When he lifted the fabric from my eyes, it wasn’t him I saw.
It was Mr. Reid. And I knew then—I was fucked.
The boss, whose desk was only about a dozen feet from mine.
The one I shouldn’t be fantasizing about.
The one that had put me on a short leash.
When they were done, I followed them to another room where they dressed me in a matching red bra and panty set this time. Red wasn’t my color; it was too bold, too certain, but when Candy turned me toward the mirror, I barely recognized the woman staring back.
Milly adjusted the straps on my shoulders while Candy fastened the clasp at my back.
Neither spoke, and somehow that silence made the air heavier.
They weren’t just attendants; they were ritualists, turning me into something I didn’t recognize, someone who belonged here, even with my softness around the middle and the curves I usually tried to hide.
“Perfect,” Candy said softly, smoothing a wrinkle from the satin. “Mistress will be pleased.”
Pleased. The word sent a small shiver through me. I wasn’t sure if it was from anticipation or dread.
I caught my own reflection again. The woman in the mirror looked confident, composed, maybe even alluring. But underneath, my pulse thudded so hard it made the edges blur.
Milly handed me a robe, black silk that fell like water down my body.
“He’s waiting in the other room,” she said, and my stomach tightened.
I followed them down a short hallway lined with dim lights, the quiet click of my heels echoing against the hardwood. My hands trembled, so I clenched them around the robe’s belt, hoping no one noticed.
Unlike last time, they led me to the end of the hallway and stopped.
“When you’re ready, enter.” Candy gave me a small smile before the two of them turned to leave. Candy brushed her fingers across my hand. “I don’t recommend keeping him waiting.”
I gulped and exhaled a deep breath. What lay on the other side of the door? Would it be more of the same? Would he fuck me today? Was that what I wanted?
Finally, after a few beats, I pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it softly behind me. The click of my heels against the wood echoed in the silence.
The room was simple, yet deliberate. Everything chosen for a purpose. Had the room last week looked like this? Low amber light glowed from a light in the corner. Polished wood gleamed beneath my feet, the faint scent of cedar and leather lingering in the air.
In the left corner where the light was stood a St. Andrews cross. Before my research, I wouldn’t have known what it was called or what it was used for. On the opposite side, a four-poster bed draped in black sheets anchored the space, the linens crisp, untouched, waiting.
I swallowed, heat coiling low in my stomach, legs pressing together in anticipation.
“Drop the robe.”
I turned toward the voice but turned my eyes downward, not sure what the rules were.
“I told you to do something, Pet,” he growled.
My breath hitched. I slipped the robe off of my shoulders and let it drop to the ground.
My breath caught as my gaze lifted, not able to help myself. He stood leaning against the far wall, tucked into the shadows. I had to fight with myself to keep my arms at my sides instead of covering myself, which is what I really wanted to do. Never in my life had I been this exposed.
He stepped out of the shadows and I swore I forgot to breathe. He was tall, his shoulders broad, every movement of his deliberate. Over his head, a black balaclava hid everything but the hard line of his jaw.
Dressed in black leather pants that clung to his thighs like a second skin, the soft gleam catching the low light.
A fitted white button-up shirt stretched across his chest, sleeves rolled to his forearms, displaying his tanned forearms, no tattoos in sight.
A leather harness crossed over his shoulders added the finishing touches.
Even standing still, he radiated restraint—power wrapped in precision.
The kind of man who didn’t need to raise his voice or lift a hand to command obedience.
“Eyes down,” he barked.
The command snapped through me. My gaze instantly dropped to the floor, heat crawling up my neck.
Was he going to let me forgo the blind fold today?
Was that why he was in a mask? I had so many questions but I knew that unless he gave me permission I was to stay silent.
It was what he wanted, and all I wanted was to please him.
“You came back,” he said as he circled behind me, his heavy black leather boots echoing with every step.
“Yes, Sir.” I gulped, doing my best to keep my hands at my sides instead of covering up. Even though last week I'd been in a lace teddy, it gave the illusion of coverage instead of everything being out in the open.
He stopped behind me and the air shifted. Warmth radiated off his body, even without his touch. My pulse raced, my core ached, and my nipples pebbled. I was so turned on and he hadn’t even touched me yet. It was something I knew I should examine but in this moment I wouldn't.
He closed the space between us, his body pushing against my back, the scents of leather and bergamot invading my senses. Dark, sophisticated, and totally on brand for Sir.
His hands skimmed down my bare arms. “Look at the wall to the left.”
I hesitated, but when his hands came to rest on my shoulders, I complied, forcing myself to stand still.
My stomach dropped. I’d seen the table, but my focus had been on the cross.
Now I took it all in. Laid out across the wooden table were several types of impact instruments.
Floggers, paddles, and riding crops, all ready, making promises that had goosebumps erupting all over my body.
One end had fur-lined cuffs and the other a blind fold.
“What’s your safe word, Pet?”
My gaze returned to the floor. “Red, Sir.”
“That’s a good girl.”
I melted at his praise.
“Do you know what to do?”
“I think so, Sir.”
He’d pointed toward the cross and not the bed, so if I had to guess, that was what he was hinting at.
“Show me.”
I bit my lower lip. I’d never been so aroused in my life, and that was knowing what was coming this time. The first step was the hardest, but after that, it was as if I was in a trance. When I reached the contraption, I turned around and stopped.
He walked up to me and my gaze shifted to the table before going back to his black boots.
He stopped in front of me and held out his hand.
I slipped my hand in his and he turned me toward the cross.
While I wanted to ask why, I followed his rules and kept quiet.
He attached my wrist and moved to attach the other, leaving me facing the corner.
So much for being able to see him. It wasn’t as if I could make out any of his features except, oh my lord, his legs and arms in his clothing.
It didn’t take long for him to attach my other wrist, then he moved to my ankles.
The heels made it challenging, but I managed to balance as I hung on the cross.
Sir double checked to make sure everything was secure.
I exhaled as he leaned over me, his lips brushing my ear. He’d taken off the balaclava.
“Your safe word?”
“Red, Sir.” I fought the urge to turn my head to catch a glimpse of my dominant.
“Let’s get started then,” he said right before everything went black. He’d slipped a blindfold over my eyes.
I licked my lips, not sure what to expect. Even though I thought I was ready, the first swipe of the flogger caught me off guard.
“Fuck.” The word came out before I could hold it back.
“Pet? Remember the rules.”
I swallowed. “Sorry, Sir.” I clamped my mouth shut.
The next hit, stuck my thighs below my ass, then my back. With each strike, blood rushed to the surface, heating my skin. After the first few, the skin numbed.
There were no thoughts of the pile of audit papers on my desk, the fact I wasn’t sure I liked my job anymore, or anything else. However, I couldn’t get the picture of a certain person out of my head. Because in my head, it was a certain boss I’d been fantasizing about.
So much for getting out of my head.