“Wait, how much porn does he keep on here?” Allie asked through a mouthful of extra-buttery popcorn.
I had to think about it for a minute; Jon had an extensive collection of porn in the media room, at least a few days worth but I doubted I could put an actual number of hours or gigabytes to it. “A lot. Like, I don’t think he knows how much he has on there - also, avoid the folder labelled ‘important’ because that’s where he keeps the really freaky stuff.”
Jon had gone to Chicago with Charles for the day and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow when we were supposed to leave for Plaisir. As such, he had given me full reign of the apartment and said I could have whoever I wanted over. So, I invited Allie and her new girlfriend, Vicki, over to peruse his collection of porn while eating copious amounts of junk food, courtesy of the cook, and drinking like the Beverly Hills housewives.
The media room was in one of the six upstairs bedrooms; it had navy blue walls, pitch-black carpeting, and two rows of massive black leather recliner chairs that were so oversized they could fit two, possibly three, to a seat. The projector was Bluetooth enabled with cloud storage that housed illegally downloaded movies, a metric shit-ton of porn, and subscriptions to multiple porn sites. Because paying 25.99 for Avengers: Age of Ultron was ridiculous to a billionaire but paying for Bang Bros was totally justifiable.
“What kind of freaky?” Vicki asked. “Like full gimp-suit freaky, or Two Girls, One Cup freaky?”
“Gross!” Allie exclaimed in horror.
“Gimp-suit and dominatrix’s, he tried to pretend he’s never watched that, but I figured out how to see when the files were last opened.” I shrugged and grinned at the two of them.
Vicki was cool; she had long chestnut-brown hair tied into pigtails, caramel coloured eyes, and a small, triangular face that made her look cat-like and mischievous. She was also tall, very tall, somewhere around the six-foot mark, and willowy –Allie liked to call her Goddess.
The two of them together made quite the pair; with Allie’s dark brown skin and choppy razor cut, an inch or two shorter than me, next to Vicki’s lithe, towering frame and porcelain colouring, they definitely stood out in a crowd.
“That one!” Vicki decided suddenly, pointing to one of the videos. “The Harry Potter one.”
“Harry Porker,” Allie said through a fit of giggles.
I snickered and grabbed a slice of the pizza beside her. “Ohmigod, you’ll love it – they’re very creative with the wands.”
I was glad Jon had insisted I invite people over, getting to spoil the two of them was fun. He had also suggested I had to socialize with other people more often and book an appointment with my therapist, though it was less of a suggestion and more of an order.
I felt different with friends, removed in a way like they were separate from my real life. My submissive life. Which was dumb, because if I lived as a 24/7 submissive, then obviously they were still part of my life since they were here right now.
“So,” Vicki said suddenly while cringing at the actress with the massive tits playing Hermione. “How exactly did you two even meet? Because I can’t imagine many relationships where it’s totally normal to watch your boyfriend’s porn together…”
“Foster care,” we answered in sync. I smiled at Allie and brought her in for a kiss on the cheek before continuing, “I stayed with the Montgomery’s for six months while they were living in California, but they moved and I stayed behind. Allie and I kept in touch back when MSN chat was a thing. Then, years later, we had the same economics class at NYU, and she sold me a very overpriced joint at a frat party. We became instant friends from all that.”
Allie smirked. “Hey man, supply and demand – you were willing to buy it no matter the price.”
I snorted. “I could’ve bought so much beer with that twenty and you gouged me, life was rough.” The two of them laughed and ate some of the nachos on the tray between us. “So, Vicki, you know what my boyfriend likes to watch when he’s choking the chicken, and my naiveté involving illicit drugs, but I don’t think I know enough incriminating things about you. What are your intentions with my beloved sister?”
“Oh, I fully intend to procure a hasty elopement so I can steal her inheritance that will fund my undercover crime syndicate. You know, the usual,” she replied easily.
“My parents might be progressive, but they aren’t interracial marriage between two women progressive,” Allie warned.
“They’ll be fine once they find out you got knocked up and I’m saving your honour.”
I liked her even more. “As long as my dear girl gets married I’ll be happy, seeing her all domestic and settled is my life dream.”
“You two are awful,” Allie interjected. “Come on, I want a smoke – you coming with, Doll?”
Vicki waved her hand dismissively. “No, you two go – I want to see the Expecto Patrocum spell again.”
I chuckled and we left Vicki on the couch surrounded by food and blankets. We went down to the lower terrace; a stunning patio that spanned the length of the lower floor, covered in terracotta tiles, with sprawling foliage in front of the railings and a large firepit in the middle of several outdoor seats. It suited the grandeur of his apartment, the classical architecture might’ve seemed outdated to some, but I liked it better than the art deco modern style.
Allie sat on the wide stone railing, one foot braced on it, the other dangling a few inches off the floor. She took a long drag of her cigarette and stared out at the city. “I finally figured it out.”
I frowned. “Figured what out?”
“Why you look different,” she said as she stared intently at me. “You’ve lost weight, mostly in the face, and not to be weird or anything, but you look…happy, I think. I’m not used to seeing Happy Dia.”
Happy Lydia, Complacent Lydia, Ballsy Lydia - how many variants of me are there? The weight loss comment made me flinch though, Allie knew that was a touchy subject.
She must have realized her faux pas because she immediately apologized with a look of extreme horror, “I am so sorry, babe, I didn’t—”
“It’s okay,” I interrupted quickly. “I’m eating, I promise - I mean, you’ve watched me do it all night, but I am working out more. It’s not as hard to talk about anymore.” Not like before, when I had been hospitalized. I didn’t want to think about that tonight, because it would just remind me that there were several electronic scales in the apartment that I could monitor myself with, and that was a dangerous road to go down. “Vicki is really great,” I said, changing the subject. “You seem good together.”
“Right!” she agreed with a face-splitting grin. “She’s so amazing, and I’m really glad you two get along.” Allie paused to flick her cigarette and glanced up at the second floor. “James Spader has a swanky place; will I get to meet him?”
“Probably not,” I admitted reluctantly. “It’s easier for us to tell his daughter that we’re a couple, but Patrick is the real boyfriend, and he isn’t willing to share that title…”
“Do you want him to?”
Do I? I had never in a million years thought of being in a polyamorous relationship, or an open relationship, or whatever the fuck we were, but I was here now, and my shit needed to be sorted out sooner rather than later. I knew deep down that I wanted Patrick to be willing to share romantically, but his intense jealousy was a barrier that frightened me. I had even wondered if maybe it wasn’t really about being romantic with Jon, so much as it was about me being submissive to Jon. That had been the trigger for Patrick, that was his main issue when we talked things out - my intense need for the other man’s approval.
“I want him to not be jealous,” I answered. “I want him to be willing to try, even just as a trial period. But I can’t see things working with them being so high profile in politics and business, not to mention Jon still being married… And the social stigma of a twenty-three-year-old dating both a thirty-seven-year-old man and a forty-six-year-old man would honestly be devastating. Especially with my background and their money.”
Allie shrugged. “I thought love was supposed to conquer all, and whatever bullshit you like to read in those mommy-porn books.”
I rolled my eyes at her. “Romance is a perfectly acceptable genre, and while I’d like the fairy-tale of it all, I can’t see it happening. At least, not anytime soon.”
She snickered and stubbed out her smoke. “You could get knocked up, I’m sure that would speed up the happily-ever-after.”
Well… I chewed my thumb nail and looked away from her sudden interrogative glare.
“Dia,” she said slowly. “Do not do something stupid like getting pregnant.”
“Patrick wants to move in,” I blurted. “And, well, we haven’t talked about marriage and babies, but he’s not getting any younger, and I want at least one before twenty-five—”
“You just turned twenty-three in February!” she shrieked, rushing over to grab my arms. “Please, Lydia, I know you, I know you’re impulsive and prone to bad choices, but for the love of God – please don’t rush to have a baby with a man you’ve only been with for like three months.”
I hadn’t told anyone about my horrifically desperate desire for a baby, not a soul. Every woman I had ever spoken to about it said baby fever started around thirty, but I had wanted one since I was sixteen and it felt embarrassing like I was defective and anti-feminist for wanting to stay home and be a mom. And there was never a good time to bring that up with two men that were fucking me sideways on the regular, like, what was I supposed to say? ‘I hope you knocked me up this time’? I’m sure Jon, who had a fully grown adult child, would be absolutely thrilled with me over that.
Allie hated everything baby-related, she downright refused all baby shower invites, christenings, and anything else where little people might be involved, I didn’t want to tell her about it and listen to the million complaints she had.
I couldn’t help the sadness in my voice when I finally spoke, “I’m not, I promise I’m not. If the social stigma would suck over being called a gold digger, I could only imagine how bad it would be if I was pregnant.”
She hugged me hard to her side as we looked out over the city. “I meant what I said,” she told me quietly. “You look really happy, Dia. “
I smiled softly and rested my head on hers. “Thanks, Allie, you do too.”
“I’ll be even happier once you show me the sex dungeon.”
“It’s really more of a room than a dungeon.”
“Yeah, it’s still filled with kinky shit – and when’s the next time I’ll be able to see what gets a billionaire’s rocks off?”
“You were just watching his porn,” I pointed out as we headed back in.
She snorted. “That’s not the same as getting to see the room where he ties up helpless secretaries for sadistic beatings.”
“I’m an intern, not a secretary, and don’t call it a beating – it’s sexy spankings, not getting repeatedly punched in the face.”
“Girl, he beats your ass with a paddle – that’s a beating, even if it’s sexy.”
I rolled my eyes but couldn’t stop my laughter, soon both of us were in side-splitting hysterics for no reason. Jon was right, I needed socialization outside of him and Patrick.
***
“Lydia.”
“I know, I know, just one more thing--”
“You had all week to pack!” Jon cried exasperatedly.
I tossed my toiletries in my worn Coach purse and huffed. “I was working!” I protested.
He groaned and slouched against the wall, his hands in the pockets of his dark jeans. “And I wasn’t?”
I saw you having drinks with the boy’s club, thank you very much. I kept my mouth shut though, just rolled my eyes and grabbed my bags before dramatically posing like Vanna White showing off a letter. “See? All done.”
He sighed and straightened up before gesturing for me to come closer, I smiled innocently and stood in front of him, batting my eyes as if I hadn’t made this whole ordeal take an extra thirty minutes. He held my face and kissed the tip of my nose. “Get going before I put you over my knee.” Without warning, he chucked me under the chin as he turned away.
I stuck my tongue out at him and linked my arm through his as we went down to the car, I eagerly curled up against his side as we started towards the airport. It baffled me to no end that the company jet was only ever used for celebrations and parties, but any time we had to go on actual business he had me book first-class flights. Patrick preferred using the jet no matter what, but if Jon had his say then it was used only when he wanted to get trashed at thirty-thousand feet.
The Gulfstream G700 was stunning, the massive cabin could comfortably house eighteen people with three beds and over a dozen chairs. The flight wouldn’t be too terrible, only four hours, but I still convinced Jon I was scared so he would cuddle with me in the bed. The space was warm, all forest greens, lacquered mahogany, and crème accents. The satiny sheets were a dark gray that swathed around the two of us as we laid together after takeoff; he was propped up against the headboard, emailing on his iPad as I rested contently on his chest, just listening to him breathe.
“He’s coming home tomorrow,” I said quietly.
Jon chuckled. “I get the feeling you’re excited.”
I smiled and hid my face in his maroon shirt. “Is it that obvious?”
“Oh, you know, I’ve only been hearing ‘Patrick just had breakfast’, ‘Patrick just called me’, ‘Patrick said he missed me again’, every day for a week,” he said dryly.
Whoops. “Don’t be mean to me,” I whined.
“It’s my job but judging from the happy-go-lucky smile you’ve been wearing for several days now; I don’t think I’ve been doing it very well.”
I laughed and brought his hand up to my lips, kissing the signet ring as he stroked my hair with his free hand. I was excited, but that wasn’t why I had brought Patrick up.
I steeled myself and closed my eyes. “What happens when he gets home?” I asked directly.
“Well, I’m sure he’ll whisk you off your feet—”
“Jon,” I interrupted. “Please, be serious.”
He stilled and took a deep breath before answering, “I’m going to pretend I never told you what I did, and we’ll both pretend that we followed all the rules.”
Wait, what rules? “He didn’t tell me about any rules…”
“Separate beds, no marks, no anal, and nothing that could be misconstrued as a date.” Jon’s voice held obvious irritation and resentment as he listed all the things we weren’t supposed to have done. “If he asks; you slept in the guest room, the only marks you got were when he told me to use the crop, I never went near your ass, and you had dinner out with friends a few times. And I think it would be wise to not mention that thing I gave you.”
My AMEX, the card was currently stored inside my phone case for security, I hadn’t planned on telling my Master about that. “What if I don’t want to pretend?” I demanded childishly. What am I doing? This was ridiculous, I should not be starting an argument over this.
“Then be prepared for Patrick to leave you.”
I felt like I had just been stabbed in the heart the way my chest ached. I wanted to cry, I had no other solutions and I felt helpless because of it. The moment Patrick came home I would be wrapped around his finger and following him around like a lost puppy, I could only hope he wouldn’t hate me if he noticed that I treated Jon the same way.