Prescription for Submission by Trent Evans

Author:Trent Evans [Evans, Trent]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shadow Moon Press
Published: 2023-04-26T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Ten

It had been almost two weeks — and still, nothing.

He’d threatened her and she’d felt that fear, that promise of another punishment, the consequences both of them knew she needed. And still, it hadn’t happened.

Amity had even let an f-bomb fly under her breath one day, sneaking a glance at him to make sure he’d heard it. He had, his jaw clenching as he glowered at her. But all he’d done was to bark at her to watch her mouth, then he’d stalked off. That was it!

Increasingly, all she could think about was what was coming, what she craved and feared. What confused and aroused her. Even going out with Kaitlyn had somehow lost its appeal, Amity sitting in a darkened corner, nursing a drink, immersed in the driving, chest-rattling bass of the music, the rolling, dazzling lights and Kaitlyn’s yelled exhortations all just so much static. For Amity’s mind would be elsewhere, nursing a hope, a building yearning for something she didn’t yet understand.

It was Friday, and as she got ready for work, she looked at the clock. If she left at that moment she’d make it to work with time to spare — on time as she knew he expected. And thus far, she’d obeyed his wishes. She’d been a good girl.

And look what the fuck that’s gotten you.

She’d chosen the snug medium brown slacks, her painted toes peeking out from under the hems, the strappy four inch heels so high, she was sure she’d end up breaking an ankle. She only wore heels that high when she wanted something.

To be fucked.

“So why the hell are you wearing them to work, Amity?” She shook her head, checking her make-up in the mirror. “And now you’re talking to yourself too.”

She looked at the clock once more. Ten minutes to seven. She could maybe make it now — if she sped, and got lucky.

Instead, Amity sat on her bed, trying to get used to the feel of the lacy garter belt, the feel of the straps holding up the dark stockings. Nobody would know she was wearing something so slutty under the sexy, but tasteful, slacks and cream high-necked top — one she’d chosen specifically because it showed off her boobs to advantage. Yes, she’d get dirty looks from female passersby, but she knew he was powerless against it, couldn’t help but look.

Dane.

Amity leaned forward, holding her head in her hands. “I hope you know what you’re doing, idiot.”

Looking up at the clock as it passed seven, she knew there was no going back now.

Finally, she’d get what she wanted.

* * *

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