Under My Boss's Control

“Dixie? What’s wrong?” I asked.

She was still in bed, writhing and screaming. I thought she was going to hurt herself. I sat down at the edge of the bed and took her by the arms.

“Dixie? Can you hear me? Dixie?”

“What? Oh. Mr. Lamb,” she said, coming out of her sleep. She immediately hugged me. “I was having such a terrible nightmare!”

“Oh, now. There, there,” I said. “It’s just a dream.”

“I’m so sorry I woke you up.”

“What was the dream about?”

“I’m not sure. Oh, this is so rude of me. I’m a guest in your home and I wake you up in the middle of the night.”

“Now, now, it’s not your fault. Do you remember anything from your dream?”

She thought about it, but whether she was too sleepy to remember or too embarrassed about the contents of the dream… I couldn’t tell. I definitely got the sense she was hiding something, though. This was something I didn’t normally deal with. When I acquired a new pet, secrets were usually not kept. More often than not, my pets were so forthcoming that they eventually spilled the beans of anything and everything.

Then again, the air of mystery was appealing. Let her have her secrets. I would figure things out in due time.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she said, blushing. “Forgive me, Mr. Lamb.”

“Think nothing of it,” I said. “You’re my guest. I will protect you, even from the bad dreams.”

“You’ll protect me from the bad dreams? How?”

I slipped under the covers with her and held her tight.

“How’s this?”

“This is nice,” she said warmly. “I feel very protected now.”

“Good.” I smiled. “Go to sleep, then.”

“Good night, sir.”

“Good night, Dixie.”

This was something I never did: Actually sleep in the same bed as one of my pets. But Dixie was unusual, or maybe it was the unusual circumstances that had put us together. It wasn’t just that she craved my strong hand; she also needed it. She seemed to ache for it.

Very few people took to the lifestyle as quickly as Dixie had. Sometimes, I had to groom a new pet for months before she’d let me put her in restraints. Other times, the pets would bristle under my stern leadership. I would chalk that up to a fundamental misunderstanding of the relationship; you genuinely had to love being a submissive to enjoy the lifestyle.

It didn’t hurt that Dixie was young and impressionable. No doubt her boyfriend had tried to live out a more traditional relationship, with disastrous results. People like Dixie needed a strong hand; to guide them was to give them a sense of purpose and security.

I took quite the chance exposing Dixie to my lifestyle. Had she reacted badly, HR would’ve had a field day with me. I could sense right away that she wasn’t expecting some kind of vanilla sexual experience, which was good, as those days were far behind me. As I had accumulated my wealth, my tastes for sex had evolved. You add a pair of handcuffs here, some straps for the bed there, and the next thing you know, the lifestyle is in your basement with all sort of accoutrements.

It was exciting to use them all again. Through Dixie’s eyes, these were all new boundaries to explore, and then surpass. How far would Dixie go? We weren’t just testing the waters of a relationship but testing our sexual limits. But how can you know them if you don’t push the limits?

I put my arms around her and closed my eyes. The warmth and comfort of the bed quickly brought sleep again. I dreamed of the next day and planned what I might do to her.

Chapter Eleven

Dixie

When I woke up the next morning, I was alone in bed. I had never slept so peacefully as I had when Julius came and spent the night with me. I felt so warm and protected.

Out of force of habit, I checked my phone. I had a ridiculous amount of texts; Shawn had been texting for hours, demanding to know my whereabouts. He bounced back and forth between concerned and mildly threatening to outright demands. The last thing I needed was to have him call the cops and have the cops track me down here. Although I was pretty sure he had no way of even guessing where I was, I didn’t want to take the chance. I’d be horribly embarrassed if the police showed up to Mr. Lamb’s mansion looking for me. Then again, I’d probably have a great punishment afterwards, so… No, I couldn’t do that to my boss. I decided to text Shawn back.

“Hey. I am working and I am fine. Please don’t bother me any further, Shawn,” I texted. “We broke up.”

“You’re not even going to let me apologize?!” he texted back.

“I don’t care if you apologize or not,” I replied. “I need to move on. I’m sorry, but it’s over. Don’t bother me. I’m working.”