The care and feeding of submissiveness

“I’m in here, honey!” Dominic called out to his wife as the front door closed with rather emphatic force. He resumed stirring the mixed vegetables, tossing in a pinch of sea salt as he deftly tossed the skillet’s contents.
“You do that so well.”
“All in wrist, Vittoria, all in the wrist.”
She kissed him carefully as he kept one eye on the gas burner. “Sounds like something, The Dastardly Dom, would utter.”
“Portentously, of course.”
Vittoria took a deep ragged breath. “Smells good. What else?”
“I have some grilled small potatoes, mashed with a garlic cream sauce, and wild salmon seared with grape seed oil and citrus peel.”
He flicked off the burner and set the pan to one side. “Go ahead and get changed, Vittoria. I’ll have dinner ready in thirty minutes.”
“I can wait.”
He put his hands on his hips and glared. “That wasn’t a request.” With a stern expression he pointed towards the stairs. “Change.” He smacked a wooden spoon in his palm. “Now, young lady, or there will be further consequences beyond those already earned.”
With a cocky grin, she flounced upstairs, turning at the last to stuck out her tongue. She giggled loudly when he growled.

After dinner, it was Dominic’s turn to change; not clothing, but demeanor. His wife’s attitude was verging on bratty, and he knew from experience — albeit very little — that she’d had a bad day at the office. Until they had started dabbling in role play, the most likely consequence of questioning her mood, would have led to raised voices and pouty silences. Not at all conducive to romance.

“So, Miss Caparelli,” he began in a sneering tone. “You have finally deigned to answer my summons. Please, come in.” He waved impatiently at her reluctance to enter the office. “I insist. You do wish to remain employed, do you not?”
Vittoria made her way to the chair in front of the desk. Ordinarily, she enjoyed their scenes, but tonight, the naughty secretary and lecherous boss they’d discussed was not having the desired effect. In fact, the wonderful food he’d cooked was churning in her stomach. She kept her head down, trying to hide her reactions to his words. When he caressed her shoulders, speaking, “I’m sure we can find some mutually satisfying means in which you can compensate for your careless actions… that cost this company money,” she flinched, blurting out, “Three hundred!”
Dominic rocked back. “Three hundred?”
“Yes. That’s how many men have now been accused of sexual harassment.” She still couldn’t meet his gaze.
“I’m confused. I thought you wanted to try this.”
“Me too.”
“Okay. That’s good, right?”
“No, Dominic.” She finally looked up. She heard his breath catch when he noticed the shimmer in her damp eyes. “Me too. As in, hashtag-Me-Too.”
He sank to his haunches and hugged his wife. “Oh, Vittoria. I’m so sorry. Why didn’t you tell me?”
“I-I couldn’t… Before. You know. This.”
This was silly then, there’s no need to go any further, honey.”
“NO!” Vittoria panted and held up her hands, fingers stretched. “No. I need this. I’ve been carrying around this shame and guilt for so long now. I can’t let him,” she spat the word, “control me anymore.”
He stroked her flushed cheek. “How long?”
She shuddered, her voice barely a whisper. “Since I was sixteen.”
Dominic fought the rage coursing through his veins. How he kept from snapping the arm off the chair, he didn’t know, but he managed to speak calmly and rationally. “You want me to rub him out?” he snarled.
“No,” she said, shaking her head sadly. “It wouldn’t take away what happened.”
“Then what can I do?”
She replied with a firm declaration. “You can be yourself — or rather — The Dastardly Dom. It was all my fault.”
“Is that what the fucker said? That you were a tease? You had it coming?”
“He was my boss.”
Dominic leapt to his feet, storming around the room, hurling expletives like lightning bolts. Gradually, through the red haze of his fury, he heard her calling out: “Dominic! DOMINIC!” His anger was doused by the fear he saw. “I’m sorry, Vittoria.” He raised his shoulders on an inhale, then relaxed. “I’m good. I’m good.”

There was a long period of silence while they tried to assimilate what this revelation meant for them, and their budding interest in TTWD. For Vittoria, it felt like an anvil had been lifted off her soul. Even without the details, Dominic was concerned exploring spanking and kinky sex had triggered something awful.

“What?” They both spoke simultaneously. She gestured for him to go first. “What do you want me to do? Tonight, here and now. Specifically.”
She didn’t hesitate. “He told me I was pretty.” She held up her palm to stop his retort.”Let me finish.” She clenched her fingers together, the engagement ring sparkling in the light. “He said he needed to speak to me, after work, about something very important. I was excited. He’d always treated me with respect, praising my efforts and showering me with flattering compliments.” Vittoria paused for a minute, visibly trembling. “After it was over…” She stumbled to halt. “I never went back there. I never told anyone.” She looked at Dominic, anguish written on her body. “Make it go away. Please. You’re The Dastardly Dom, do something!”

Wicked Wednesday... a place to be wickedly sexy or sexily wicked

Per repeated requests in the comments on last week’s post, The Dastardly Dom has returned. I wasn’t planning to make this a long episode, but the characters decided they wanted a bigger stage. Part 2 is posted, Coffee Klatch was never like this, at this link here.

23 Comments

    1. Thanks Sweetgirl. There will be more to come — so to speak — next week. I’m always a bit concerned when I post a trigger, although, nearly anything can be a trigger for someone.

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  1. There’s such a great chemistry between these two. Your postscript says the “characters decided they wanted a bigger stage”—it’s so exciting when that happens. What can a writer do except follow? xxM

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    1. Hi Melina. That is very true. When writing flash fiction, the goal of a neat, short and sweet post, is often derailed when the characters refuse to be muzzled. In this case, the dialog took off and my fingers were scrambling to keep up. They are impatiently waiting for tomorrow’s prompt to posted.

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  2. Sometimes you truly leave me speechless. I’ve still got goosebumps. What I can never get enough of in your writing is the way you pack such a punch in your words in such a concise way. The Dastardly Dom has the potential to rival Sir in your wonderful Kismet of Submission (although he’d have to work very hard at it where I’m concerned!). I am very much looking forward to next week – and wondering what you’re going to do with the new prompt!

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    1. It’s still early with this story. I actually have several other Doms to draw upon, and I don’t want this to be too similar. That’s why the emphasis on role play, rather than D/s. The new prompt is coffee, so that actually fits with the office boss/lech. And, you are never speechless. 😉

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  3. This is my first reading of the first segment as I saw the second part first, yesterday. The context greatly changes how I view the story. Now that I understand what is really happening between the two characters, I must commend you again on your brilliance!

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    1. Thanks, nora. Writing a sequel is always difficult, which is why so many novels spend the first chapter doing a recap of the series so far. In flash fiction, or the Bumhampton Chronicles, it’s a direct continuation, so the ‘context’, as you point out, differs depending on which way round you read. But that’s life. We’re always being dropped into a middle of a story w/o knowing how they got here. With each new revelation, it changes our perceptions, and thus the story.

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Spank you very much

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