The Exhibitionist (The Submissive 7)

wouldn’t be fair for me not to admit that a lot of my actions yesterday were because of Charlene. The fact is, I’m never going to be okay with her. And we both have to accept that.”

I recalled the decisions I’d reached in the early hours of the morning. “Charlene’s not going to be an issue anymore.”

“You can’t fire her because of me. And if you did it now, she could file a claim.”

“I’m not going to fire Charlene. She’s too good at her job. The nonprofit has never seen growth like it has under her direction.”

She wrinkled her forehead. “Then how is she not going to be an issue?”

“There’s no law that says the nonprofit’s headquarters has to be in Manhattan,” I said. “I’ve decided to move it to Boston. Charlene has family there. And I’m not going to have direct contact with her. I’m going to have her report in to one of my senior executives.”

“You don’t have to do that for me.”

“I’m not,” I said, and at her frown I added, “I’m doing it for us.”

I watched as the full meaning of what I’d said sank in, and I saw the relief slowly seep into her expression. The frown disappeared and the wrinkles in her forehead vanished. But they came back too quickly.

“What if she doesn’t want to move?”

It was my turn to squeeze her hand. “I spoke to her this morning. She’s thrilled. In fact, she’s already left and is taking a few days to look at real estate there.”

“What if…” she started, but shook her head. “Nah, it’s not important.”

I’d known her far too long not to know what her question was, and likewise, I knew it was very important.

“If she had said no, she would have been told to look elsewhere for a job,” I said. “There is no business or nonprofit or position or employee more important than you. Never doubt it.”

She didn’t have to say anything, but the tears in her eyes spoke volumes. I kicked myself for not doing something before now.

“We have to discuss last night,” I said, knowing there was more that had to be said.

“I thought we did.”

“Not everything.” I took her other hand. “What I did was seriously wrong and it’s not enough for me to simply say I’m sorry. I want you to flog me. Or cane me. Whatever you would prefer.”

She gasped. “I can’t do that.”

“You can.”

“I’ve never used a flogger or a cane.”

“First time for everything.”

I’d anticipated her response and I was glad she took some time to think before she spoke again, but I’d be the first to admit that I didn’t expect what she said next. “I can’t. For me to do that to you would be more of a punishment for me than one for you.”

Of course. That made sense. “I see,” I said. “I didn’t think of it like that.”

The wicked gleam I loved so much danced in her eyes. “I wouldn’t, however, have any problem with you writing two thousand times I was an ass to make assumptions and I’ll never do it again.”

I swallowed the wrong way, setting off a coughing spell. “Two thousand times?” I finally wheezed out.

“Do you think that’s not enough? I’m not a Dominant, so I don’t know. Would three thousand be better?”

“If you want me to do three thousand, I’ll do it.”

“Oh, I know,” she said, so animatedly I was afraid to ask.

“What?”

“How about you write the number of lines you think is appropriate to make up for what you did?”

“That is an evil way to set it up,” I said. She looked very, very pleased with herself, so I added, “But it’s so creative I’m going to have to remember it.”

I laughed at her look of shock and then pulled her close for a quick kiss.

“One more thing,” I added. “Playing in public. After last night, I want to put guidelines in place.”

“Like what?”

“I know you enjoyed the scene with Luke and the one months ago with Jeff. And you liked it when there was more than one man watching. I’m fine with scenes like that, but I think it would be wise, at least for the foreseeable future, if we only invited other people to participate in limited, nonsexual ways, when we’re at our house.”

“Anytime we play in a public setting, it’s just us,” she said.

“Yes.”

“I don’t have a problem with that.” She raised an eyebrow. “You are okay playing in public?”

“I am. I enjoy it, too.”

“I’m glad we’re in agreement.”

“I never want to experience another twelve hours like the last,” I said, growing serious. “You’re so much a part of me now, it’d be easier to lose a limb than to live without you.”

“I don’t even want to imagine life without you.”

I drew her to me and as our lips touched, I felt we had finally come full circle. We had hurt each other and hurt ourselves, but now we’d found each other again and we could heal. I didn’t know why I thought our journey would be easy. She had told me once before nothing worth anything was easy.

I supposed that meant we were priceless.

We arrived back in Delaware stronger than we’d been when we left. We’d walked through the fire once again and instead of perishing in the flames, we’d been strengthened like tempered steel. With our lines clearly drawn concerning what we would and would not do in public, I discovered it was a lot of fun exploring the edges of those lines.

Tonight, three weeks after the conference, we were doing a medical scene role play for the group. I would no longer share her, even in a nonsexual way, in public, but she still got off on exhibitionism. That being the case, she had to be excited about the scene we were about to do. From where I stood, at one end of Daniel’s guesthouse garage, it appeared as if everyone in the group was watching.

I pushed the sleeves up on the white lab coat I wore and turned to Abby. She was on an examination table, naked and waiting.

“What’s your name?” I asked.

“Don’t you have it written down in the chart, Doctor?” she asked, and the gathering crowd laughed. “You’d think that’s one of the first things they teach you in medical school. I certainly hope you didn’t come in here to remove my gallbladder. I heard about that on TV once. All these medical mistakes.”

I smiled. I loved it when she acted like a brat during our role play. “Patient is noncooperative.” I acted as if I were writing it down. “And no, I’m not taking out your gallbladder. In case you didn’t notice when you walked in, I’m not a surgeon. Now, why don’t you tell me, in your own words, why you’re here today?”

We hadn’t rehearsed our answers, so I had no way of knowing what she would say. This should be interesting. Ad hoc role play was fun. With Abby’s limitless imagination, there was no telling what she’d come up with.

“My Master made me come here.”

“I see. And what was your Master’s reason for that?”

“Well, we were getting ready to have sex the other day. It was our first time and I refused to let him touch me after I saw how big his cock was. I said it wouldn’t fit. He said it would, and now I’m here. I told him I needed medical proof.”

“You need me to make sure your Master can fuck you?”

“Yes, but I’d sort of hoped he’d be the one here and not me.”

“Why would he be here?”

“So you could tell him his dick was too big. That’s what I thought the medical examination would prove.”

“That he had a big dick?”

“Not just big. Ginormous.”

“Unfortunately, that’s not how it’s going to work. Since we can’t do anything about his ginormous dick, we’ll just have to make sure you can take it. Let’s start by having you slide all the way down to the edge of the table. I want your ass almost off. Feet in the stirrups.”

She mumbled under her breath, but scooted down and adjusted her feet, giving me and our wat

ching audience a perfect view of her exposed pussy.

“Everything looks good from a visual standpoint,” I said. “But I can’t say with any certainty until I do a more thorough exam. Have you had sex before?”

“Yes.”