6/8/11
The next day started fairly uneventful. Ashley thanked her for running the last minute errand, and talked to her about the option of becoming a salary employee, and holding onto the cell at all times. She told him she'd get back to him about it tomorrow. At the moment, Ashley was across the room in his office with the door open, so she could call him over at any point in time if she needed him. About eleven, the guys rolled in through the front door. Isaac waiving a cheerful good morning and continued on, Zac flipped his hair and said hey, but Taylor stopped at the counter.
"Mornin' Emma Jo," he said with a smile.
"Good morning, Taylor, how can I help you?" She folded her hands on the desk in front of her and smiled up at him.
He shook his head. "Just want to visit," he said, with a shrug of his shoulder. "How's your day been so far?"
"Good, thank you for asking. It's been quiet, so I'm getting a lot of work done," she told him.
"I'm sure Ashley told you it's busier in the evening?"
"Yes, he did. I'm ready for it though."
"Good. Oh, thanks for the Red Bulls last night, by the way."
"No worries, glad I could help. Like I told Zac last night- I understand when inspiration strikes."
He nodded, a smile on his face. "So Ashley told me you're friends with Jessi?"
"Yes, we've been friends for almost six years now. We met at a performing arts camp in L.A., and became fast friends when we discovered the first day we were from relatively close to eachother." She smiled at Taylor.
"So you're from Texas?"
She nodded. "Grew up in a small town out east, then moved to Dallas to go to school. When Jessi told me about her leaving, I came up here."
"Nice. So, I have a completely random question for you." He paused. "Okay, two random questions for you. One, who are you listening to?" He leaned over the desk and tried to see her iPhone. The face was black, so he leaned back.
"Mike Posner." His eyebrows came together for a minute, trying to place the name.
"I'll have to look into him. Second. Just out of sheer curiosity for everyone in the office- the type of guy you go for. If you could have any celebrity, which I'm sure you could, who would you pick?" He gave a crooked smile.
She studied his face for a minute, debating. She could't say him, because if it's a stalker test, she'd loose her job. But if he was interested in her, due to the way he was checking her out yesterday- wow, what a predicament. Could she plead the fifth? But that would implicate her immediately. Shit. She had to answer.
"I would choose Robert Pattinson, before he cut his hair." She watched his smile falter, then steady.
"What qualities about him do you find attractive?"
She laughed quietly. "Well, I love his light eyes, longer hair, and the scruff on his face, full lips, and the I-just-woke-up expression." She fanned herself playfully, then rolled her eyes. She looked up at him. Funny how Taylor had four out of five of those qualities. She watched his eyebrows come together again, for a little bit longer this time.
"Thanks. Good to know. I'll let everyone know. Bryan will be pleased," he said quietly, but she could detect something else in his voice, but couldn't place it. Was he comparing himself to whatever mental picture he had of Robert Pattinson in his mind? She bit the inside of her bottom lip, burning with curiosity. What she wouldn't give to know what he was thinking right now.
"Did Ashley give you the option of the cell phone this morning?" Taylor asked suddenly, returning to his cheerful self.
"Yes. I told him I'd let him know of my decision tomorrow."
He nodded. "Why don't you bring it with you and come on back?" He gave her his best smile. He saved it for when he really wanted something.
She glanced at the clock. "Alright-" she thought about her lunch break in twenty minutes. She also thought that he was her boss, and she had to follow through on his requests. But he was asking her to go back to a place that she wasn't allowed to go as of yet. And she desperately wanted to see their studio. Oh, what the hell. She stood up and took the cell with her, and tucked it into her front right pocket.
"Ashley told us you're studying to be a producer," Taylor said, showing her the way down the hall by placing a hand at the small of her back. Although he wasn't touching her, he might as well have been, the way her skin was tingling.
"Yes," she said, slightly breathless.
"Come see our studio." He opened the thick wooden door, and she came into a huge room split in half by sound proof windows. The half closest to them, up against the windows were the sound boards. She spotted Isaac sitting at one, in a desk chair that looked like her own, with two empty ones next to him. He had headphones on. Behind him, there were another two areas. Closest to her, there was a small sitting area with a couple couches and a recliner on a rug around a coffee table. Behind the sitting area, which was closest to where Isaac was, was another full set of instruments, matching the setup of the instruments behind the glass wall. Drums, guitars and stands, an upright piano with a keyboard on top, and mike stands everywhere, with headphones draped on them. She looked through the windows, and saw Zac, sitting behind his drums, just pounding away at some mysterious beat she couldn't hear. He also had headphones on, completely oblivious to her and Taylor. She felt like she didn't want to move, to distract him and mess anything up because of her. Frozen, Taylor actually touched her and moved her farther into the room. "Over here," he showed her, hand still on the small of her back. Her thighs began to melt. If he could do that to her touching her as he was, just think of other- stop. She blinked, and tried to focus on the magic Zac was creating.
Isaac leaned forward into a microphone. "Zac." Zac stopped, looked up, saw Emma Jo and Taylor, and waved. "That last bar, I think it would sound better if it was a double instead of a single." Zac nodded, and began again. It shocked her that she was so accepted here. She was an outsider, and felt as if she was intruding on sacred ground. She turned to Taylor.
"I- I don't feel as I've earned it yet to be in here-"
Taylor's eyes grew wide. "Wait. What?" He had a look of confusion on his face.
It was weird, completely foreign to her, but she was almost overwhelmed by the urge to kneel in front of him. He tried to lead her to the sitting area to sit, but she was frozen. "Emma Jo?"
"I'm sorry," she told him, "but I feel that I don't deserve to be in here yet. I guess I have to confess." Taylor was looking at her curiously, but she dropped her eyes instantly. "I, because of your sister, I guess, I just feel like I need to somehow earn my privledge to be in here. I have followed your music some, and I respect you for your struggles in the industry, and how you've prevailed, and this room is just-" how did she say this without loosing everything? She searched his eyes desperately, trying not to panic. She noticed his expression soften as she spoke. She was surprised he could understand her- her accent was at it's thickest when she was becoming upset. "This room is just, some, some kind of- I'm going to sound rediculous, and I understand if you want to let me go after this," she sighed and laughed shakilly, "but it's magical. And it's not just because of who you are, I think in general," she rushed on, trying to explain herself, "but when music as an art form is created, no matter how, it's magic, forming the final product. I don't think I'm making any sense. I'm sorry for babbling," she told him, looking at her hands twisted at her waist.
"Emma Jo, please sit," Taylor said softly, and took her hand and led her to a couch. He sat, and pulled her down gently next to him, so they were facing eachother, their knees almost touching, foreheads angled together. From an outsider, it would have looked as if they were sharing some intimate secret. He looked into her panicked eyes. Her sudden show of emotion had him feeling like she was something delicate, and he needed to soothe her. He wanted so badly to kiss away her worries. His eyes dropped to her lips, trembling slightly, like she may cry at any moment. "Emma Jo," he said again, and what he was about to do was highly inappropriate, only because he was married, but he touched her cheek, caressing it, then lifted her chin so their eyes met. How simple would it be to close the distance, to place his lips on hers? But his brothers were here. Maybe they should go? Yeah, that's it. "Let's go. We'll try this another time." She nodded, and they both stood. He glanced to his brothers, to see if they'd noticed the scene. Zac was stairing off into space. Had he seen? And Isaac's back was towards them. He opened the door for her, and noticed she took two quick steps out into the hall. He saw her knees give slightly, but she righted herself. "This way." He took her to the door down the hall, reserved for those late night jam sessions. It was basically a studio apartment, but with more beds and couches, in case a larger band stopped by. He took her by the hand, and led her to the table in the dining room next to the kitchen. He sat her down, turned, and grabbed a bottle of water out of the fridge, opened it, poured it into a cup and set both in front of her before sitting himself.
"I'm so sorry," she told him quietly, then sipped from her cup. She closed her eyes, letting the water sooth her throat. "You probably think I'm a hot mess right about now. And at any point in time-" she trailed off, waiting for the firing blow.
"It's not anything to get fired for, if that's what you're hinting at," he told her, after waiting a second for her to continue. A phone vibrated. She went to her pocket immediately, and pulled it out to read it. "Let them leave a message," Taylor told her. She looked up at him. He could see the struggle in her eyes. Finally she nodded and put the still vibrating phone in her pocket, then folded her hands on the table. "Please tell me what you're thinking," he said, ducking his head in attempts to catch her eyes. She had such expressive eyes. Maybe she knew that, and was purposely hiding them.
"I'm just thinking how horrible of an impression I've made on you, my second full day on the job, and already I'm falling apart at the seams. I swear if I could just have a minute, I can pull myself back and get to work, pretend nothing happened, if you can forgive me," she looked into his eyes finally, pleading.
"Emma Jo, your job is safe. Probably more so at this point. I'm glad you have your priorities straight, but I'm also glad you've shown some emotion. Music, well, art in general, is very emotional. It's obvious you know that. Please tell me why you were so overwhelmed. You're best friends with my sister. You can tell me, and I'll personally guarantee your job is safe." She studied him for a long moment, trying to find the trust. He had the same eyes as Jessi. That made it a little easier.
"I apologize ahead of time, for the amount of unnecessary information you're about to receive, but it is relavant in some way, mostly to me, probably," she gave a half smile, then looked at her hands. As embarrassing as it was to spill to her boss on the second day, she felt it was necessary for him to know. Maybe because he was Jessi's brother had a part. She inhaled deeply, and began. "I guess it basically boils down to two things. One, respect, and two, submissiveness." She glanced up at him, and his brows drew together again. She was good at getting that reaction from him.
"I understand the respect part, you did a fairly good job of communicating that. I guess the part I don't understand is the force behind it, the submissiveness." As he watched her, he subconsciously played with the bands on his left wrist.
She nodded. "It's- it's a- a- sexual thing. Like domination and submissive." She paused, and looked from his fingers on his bands to his eyes and watched them grow wide. Yeah, bet he didn't think this conversation would go there. She laughed weakly. "At any point in time," she reminded him. He only nodded. Sighing, she began again. "See, I'm a submissive, through and through. I don't know how much you know about that."
"Like whips and chains?"
"It could be that, but really it's about power. Power over another person. As a submissive, I have the mindset that I'm low man on the totem pole, and I have to earn whatever rewards I receive. Starting a new job is like that, regardless." She watched him, could see his mind working, trying to connect the dots. "I've had enough training that it's ingrained in my daily living. And that has to do with the power I felt in the studio, I don't know if that makes any sense to you at all, being on a need to know basis and all," she said.
"You almost fell in the hallway," he pointed out.
She hung her head. "The ingraned habit to kneel was almost too much."
"You were going to kneel?"
"Honestly, that was the second time I had to fight it. The first was when I froze in the studio."
"Wow. I never would have guessed."
"So. Now you know all my deep dark innermost secrets," she laughed, trying to lighten the mood. "Must be a new employee record, huh?"
That got a laugh from him. "So tell me about this domination submissive thing. I know absolutely nothing about it. And to make you feel more comfortable with my ignorance, the only thing I've seen is like I said, whips and chains in this old bad porno once. But you look normal, well, above normal," he gestured to her body, "and I'm intreagued by your actions, and descriptions."
"What do you want to know?"
"How did you start? Did you always know?"
"Before we get too much farther into this, I want you to know that Doms and Subs have kind of a preconceived reputation as being "loose". I've only been intimate with three guys, which in that world, is on the prudish end, honestly." She waited for him to nod, to aknowledge she wasn't a whore. Then she continued. "But I've pretty much always known. My first time ever, for anything, in the back of my mind, I was hoping he would at some point tell me what he wanted me to do, make me beg, tease, something. It never came. It was through a friend who was into it that suggested I should look into it when I told her I was unsatisfied every time afterwards." He nodded, listening intently.
"Unsatisfied, huh?" He shook his head. "That's too bad. Do you have a- a Dom?"
"Not recently, because of the possibilty of my move. And the old Dom wanted to push limits I didn't want to, so he let me go. It's been a couple months."
"What's a usual session like? If that's what you call it."
"Pretty much. He tells me what he wants me to do, but with authority, and it's for pleasure. The guy has to get off telling the sub what to do. I'm pretty sure that's where the saying 'You can't rape the willing' came from." She gave him a half smile, and checked on him for a reaction. He didn't seem freaked out by it yet.
"Let me get this straight. I could say something like, "Get over here and kneel between my legs"," he said in a strong voice, "and the sub would-" he broke off when she was instantly there, looking down at the floor, waiting. She was sitting on her calves, hands grasping her wrists behind her back, and her chin was on her chest. His eyes widened in surprise. "It's that easy?" he whispered. "Unbutton your shirt slowly," he said, trying to see how far he could go. Keeping her chin down, she slowly undid her buttons, starting at the top. Taylor brought a hand to sweep her hair over her shoulders, so he could have a clear view. As her hands worked, more and more of her perfect breasts appeared in his view. He felt himself grow hard as her blue lace bra started to appear. Three, four, then five buttons more, and her breasts were completely bare. When her shirt was unbuttoned, her hands resumed their position behind her back. "Undo my jeans." He told her. Her hands came up, quick and expertly undid his button and zipper fly. She found him hard, and it pleased her. She wanted to moan, but her training taught her better. "Tell me something." She didn't answer. Then it occured to him. "Speak."
"Yes, sir."
"Back to the sir stuff, huh?"
"I usually have to say Master."
"Oh." He thought about it for a moment. "You can call me Master, then. So you're not permitted to make an noises or speak unless I say?"
"That is correct, Master."
"Can the Dom ever ask for his own pleasure?"
"He can, but if it abused, the Sub may become unhappy because it is not balanced. There usually is a reward for the sub if the Dom is the sole pleasure receiver. If you are seriously interested, I suggest you find some literature. It is more complicated than telling the sub what to do. The Dom accepts full responsibility for the sub, for her mental and physical well being. If the sub is not in top form, the sub cannot serve the Dom appropriately."
"Alright," he breathed. "Put me in your mouth and get me off." She rose to her knees and pulled him through his boxer briefs and took him down her throat. "Oh my God that feel so good." He ran his fingers through her hair at her temples, then fisted at the back of her head to gently push in rythem. "Your mouth is so hot and wet. Oh God," he moaned, pulling her hair slightly. "Fuck. I can only imagine what your tight pussy feels like. Tell me how much you like pleasing me." She moaned, making his cock vibrate. "Damn, woman," he groaned. "Stand up." She sucked him hard as she stood, leaving her mouth with a pop. He undid her jeans quckly and yanked them down over her hips. "I have to taste you." He lifted her up so she was kneeling on the chair between his legs, her ankles bound by her jeans, brought a finger up to move aside her damp blue lace panites, and ducked his head to taste her wetness.
A shock bolted through her the instant the tip of his tongue touched her.
"Figures," he mumbled into her. "You taste like peaches," he said as he licked her inner thighs. Her legs trembled. He brought two fingers up and pushed into her, his tongue working on her clit. He slid another in, stretching her slightly. "Wow you're tight," he said. "I could eat you all day and never be full. Sit on me," he told her. She slid down as he asked, taking him deep inside. She moaned, fisting her hands in his hair. "Say it."
"Yes, Master. You fill me like no other has."
"Good. You will be satisfied by me."
"Yes Master." He gripped her hips and began to rock her.
"Feel my cock deep inside you."
"Yes," she tilted her head down, so they were forehead to forehead, blue eyes to blue eyes. He closed his, and the distance between their lips.
"Taste yourself on my tongue."
"Yes, Master, gladly." She kissed him hard as she rode him fast.
"Are you-"
"Three into five years of the Mirena. It's okay," she told him, taking only another minute to undo them both.
"Oh sweet Jesus that was the best sex of my life."
No, she wasn't going to say anything.
"I have to get back to work. I'm surprised no one has come looking for us yet," she told him, pulling her jeans back up as he tucked himself back in. She noticed he was still hard as she buttoned her shirt. As soon as she was ready, she knelt in front of him in her position. "Master, were you finished, or did you need more?"
"I could, but you're right. We need to get back. It hasn't really been that long, but if we went another round they would." He put a finger under her chin and lifted her face. "You are one sweet piece of ass," he told her. She smiled. "No more Master." She nodded. They walked to the door. He pulled her close and looked into her eyes. "See you 'round." He leaned in and kissed her hard, then let her go to open the door. She returned to her desk to check the cell, to see how many calls she'd missed. Only four, not a big deal. She looked around quickly to see if Ashley was going to come out and say anything. It seemed as if he didn't even noticed. She sighed and got back to work.
Chapter Four