His To Control

Wait until she’s able, William. She drank a shit-load of alcohol. Give her time.

He picked up his cup and watched her sleep as he did. She looked peaceful and calm. Her lips were open as she took in breaths. Her hands were laid on the pillow in front of her. His instincts had been right on the mark. She’d needed to feel tied to someone. He’d seen it in her eyes. Her life had been filled with the rejection that she expected it at every turn. The rope offered her more than being bound. It offered her the comfort of knowing she couldn’t go anywhere. It was strange how certain BDSM or kink methods could help certain individuals.

William finished his drink then stripped off his clothing. He usually slept nude, but this time he settled on a pair of sweat pants. His c**k was thick, and he ignored the need within him for release. He settled behind her and reached over to release the rope. It was useful for while he wasn’t in the room. William was here now, and the rope was useless. He’d hold her while she slept.

Daisy did not stir as he untied the rope. She snuggled closer to him after he threw the length away from him. He wrapped his arms around her and secured her next to him. Her sigh undid him. She’d been without so much in her short life that he wanted to give her something in return.

She turned over to face him. Her face looked so relaxed in sleep. He would take care of her if it was the last thing he did.

He closed his eyes and allowed sleep to claim him.

****

Daisy woke to the sunshine pouring through the bedroom window. The scent of coffee wafted through the bedroom. She opened her eyes, stretched and tried to fight through the hammering pain inside her head. She felt like several little men were hacking at her brain.

Turning over, she sat up, and the events of the previous night swept over her. Her ass stung from the slaps of William’s hand. She stared at her hands where he’d tied them to the bed. There were no marks on her flesh.

She was in William’s house and his bed. The sweat pants she wore covered every part of her body. A note lay on the chair next to her. She picked it up and began reading.

“The bathroom is in the next room, and I’ll see you in the kitchen. Don’t forget to comb your hair. W xxx”

Daisy smiled and went in search of the bathroom. She flushed the toilet and gazed in the mirror. Her hair looked like it had a mind of its own. She drank whisky, and from the look of her hair, the alcohol had gone straight to her head.

She filled the sink with water, washed her face and then her hair. Daisy dried her hair before running a comb through it. She hated her red hair. In school she’d been referred to as “Ginger”, and she’d hated the name and the title. Her mother had the same coloured hair. Just thinking of her mother made her want to vomit. That woman had never shown any ounce of compassion. When Daisy had run home crying about being bullied, her mother had laughed at her and told her to grow up. Over the years, Daisy had refused to go to her mother with any more worries. She’d lost friends because of her own attitude, and one day she’d looked in the mirror, not long after Anna’s birthday and seen she was turning into her.

The thought of ending up like her mother scared her.

She made her way down to the kitchen. William sat at the table reading the paper while sipping his coffee. The moment she walked in he put the paper down and stared at her. He wasn’t wearing a shirt. “I’m sorry,” she said.

“What are you sorry for, pet?” he asked.

He’d called her “pet” last night. Did he think she was some kind of dog? Was it a subtle way of insulting her?

“For the way I acted last night.”

“Ah, sit down,” he said. He got up and pulled a chair out next to him. She took the seat he offered, extremely conscious of his na**d body at her back.

“I never drink that much.”

“I beg to differ. I’ve seen you drink a fair amount in the last few months.” She heard him move around the kitchen. He placed a cup of water and two aspirins next to her. “Take them. It will help with the pain.”

He walked off and then came back with a coffee and a plate of pancakes. “These will also help you.”

William placed the pancakes in front of her. There were four in the pile, and he poured syrup all over them. “Trust me, they’re good.” He took the seat next to her licking his fingers. She took the aspirin and then picked up her fork.

Daisy couldn’t stop staring at his chest. She hadn’t seen him na**d before, and the guy looked like a god. He didn’t have any chest hair, and he was smooth to the touch. She wondered if he had his body waxed like she’d seen on a documentary.

“No, I don’t,” he said.

She stared up at him. His gaze was on the paper. “What?” she asked.

“I don’t wax. I’ve never had the problem of body hair. Some men have a problem with that. I don’t.”

“How did you know what I was thinking?” she asked.

“You’re an open book, Daisy. I know what you’re thinking from little signs you give away.”

She cut off another piece of pancake and put it in her mouth. What else did he know?

“I know a great deal. I know you enjoyed your punishment last night and you’re confused about how you feel. I also know that you don’t know why I call you pet. I’ve not got the best BDSM club around for my good looks, honey. I know what I’m doing.”

“You do background checks, and you know people.”

“I also have a great tool called observation and a knack for knowing a submissive when I see one.” He put the paper down and gave her all of his attention. “And you, sweet Daisy, are a submissive.”

Daisy put the fork down. Her appetite was gone. “I think I need to get home. I’ve got work in an hour.”

“I called in for you. I let them know you’re too sick to work today and will be resting.”

“What?” she asked.

“They were more than happy to oblige, Daisy.”

“They can fire me, William. That is the only job I’m good at,” she said.

“No, you’re not, Daisy. You’re an intelligent young woman. You could easily have gone to college. Why didn’t you?”

He was bombarding her with too many questions. She stared at the table, at the food, and tried to think past the panic. William leaned over and caught her hand inside his. “Look at me, Daisy.”

She gazed up into his eyes.

“I’ve got you. I’m not letting you go.”