Page 27 of The Southern Submission

Our server stops at our table, keeping me from saying more. He fills our water glasses and takes our order before leaving.

Once we’re alone again, Payton returns to the conversation. “This can be a short outing. We’ll eat and leave. We don’t have to stay long. Now tell me about your week. Has it been busy? Have you given more thought to what we talked about on Sunday?”

I frown. “Which question do you actually want me to answer? The banality of working at a tiny paper, the mundane things that keep me busy, or my research into some uncovered kink and what that could mean?”

“Youwerethinking about it. Do you have any questions?”

Again, he doesn’t answer my question. He focuses on what he wants and asks me more. I sigh and look down at our entwined fingers. I have plenty of my own.

“What kind of Dominant are you?” This was something that came up in my research quite a bit. There are variations to the Dominant role that align with different styles of kink or play and meet the needs of different submissives. I don’t know if I’m submissive, exactly, but I think I respond to Payton’s commanding tone and the words he uses in a way that should be discussed.

He smiles calmly and squeezes my hand. “Good girl, you’ve been doing your homework.”

I blink at the words and a shiver runs through me because he used that deeper, commanding tone when he praised me.

“I fit a few types, but I tend to gravitate toward softer Dom styles. You might’ve seen it called something like a service Dom or a pleasure Dom, which I think you’d respond to.”

“Pleasure Dom,” I repeat, rolling the title around my brain. “So you don’t do things like spankings or use whips and chains?” I ask quietly. My face heats. I must be bright red at this point, but my researcher brain is fully engaged and I want to know more than I care about my own embarrassment.

Payton’s eyes become churning ocean swells at my question, and his smile slides into the sexy one, not the fake one he pulls on for the benefit of others. He leans toward me, his fingers sliding up my arm in a soft caress.

“I’ll do anything that brings pleasure to my sub. If the thought of my hand striking your bare ass makes your pussy weep, I’ll make your skin blush the most beautiful rosy shade of red, then spend hours worshiping your body so you don’t even remember the sting. You’ll have the proof of it the next day as a reminder of what I did to your perfect ass.”

Oh, sweet Jesus.An intense shiver works its way from my scalp to the tips of my toes. I just experienced a tiny orgasm from hisdescriptionof a spanking. This man is dangerous. Hehas far too much power, too much of an intense magnetism that my body feels acutely.

“Got it, spankings are still on the table with a pleasure Dom.” My voice is husky and has a shake I can’t control.

“If you want to test your limits when it comes to impact play of another kind, I have other impact implements and would happily lead you down the path of caning, flogging, or paddling. If you want to experience the heights of pleasure during sensory deprivation, we could try soft silk blindfolds, heavy leather cuffs, and pretty ball gags that would leave your gorgeous mouth so full you couldn't talk back. If you decide that rope bondage is a kink that gets you off as much as degradation does, you better believe I’ll be your rigger and turn you into my ultimate rope bunny just as much as my cumslut.”

He’s slouched back in his chair, relaxed as ever, speaking about the kinkiest shit like we’re talking about the weather, whereas I’m leaning over the table toward him, my body wound tight as a spring, practically vibrating with the tension. Our hands are still connected by the barest brush of fingertips and it feels more intimate than it should due to the subject matter.

“It sounds like you’re very familiar with this. Have you…had a lot of partners?” I can’t bring myself to say subs. Everything about this feels weird. I don’t even want to know this much, but it feels necessary. His experience is important.

“I’ve had many casual play partners for individual sessions when I wanted to release tension, but I’ve never had a true ongoing Dom/sub dynamic. It’s always been too much work to maintain and foster the kind of partnership I’d want with the level of”—he pauses for a moment and levels me with a dark-eyed gaze before continuing—“care…I’dwant to provide.”

“And your version of care includes spankings and…ball gags?” My voice trembles on the last words, thinking of losing my ability to say something harsh that would keep him out of my head.

“You’re really interested in spankings, aren’t you?" He looks at me curiously before he continues. "We’d negotiate all that for a play session. Your limits, your comfort level, your curiosity would be discussed, and safe words established. Kink is all about safe, sane, consensual play. Nothing would happen without ensuring your safety, frame of mind, and consent at every step. Submission is given, never taken.”

He’s drawing small circles along my palm as he speaks, making goosebumps climb my arm. He didn’t speak hypothetically. He spoke aboutmelike this is an inevitability that’s bound to happen.

Our food arrives and stops the kinky conversation but allows me the chance to finally ask about him. I need to put my reporter skills to use and I want to know more about the nerdy side of him he showed me at the café.

“How is it you’re head of marketing and PR when you’re obviously a tech genius? Shouldn’t you be lording it over the nerds in the IT department or hold the CTO or CIO title instead of COO?”

He looks at me over his wine glass before answering. “I do what Olympus needs. We have more pressing marketing and PR concerns than ongoing technology issues. I’m able to oversee both segments of the company through operations, so that’s where I’m needed and put the majority of my energy.”

“What about situations like the data breach this past winter? Would it have changed anything had you been focused on the technology side of the business, or would that still have occurred?” I press, looking for answers to something no onehas been able to pull from the tight-lipped company.

Payton’s face darkens, eyes cast down toward his plate with a stormy expression. He leans back in his chair, the movement causing his fingers to finally leave my skin. I close my hand around empty air, immediately regretting that I’ve caused him to pull away and leave me without his touch after he’s been so generous with it.

“There’s no way to know for sure. I built the technology and platform our company runs on. I thought it was bulletproof. I’d run countless penetration tests, gone through every conceivable possibility of attack and still the hacker was able to get in and steal proprietary information. I don't know whether that says more about the flaws of my system or their skills.”

“What’s Olympus doing with the real estate developments you’re working on? You’ve bought up blocks of downtown Atlanta and are in talks with the city, but you haven’t announced what the project is. Can I have the exclusive?” My cheeks heat again but for a completely different reason than before. I’m asking for something that benefits my career and is a bit of a stretch, ethically, due to the complicated nature of our current situation.

Payton smiles and steeples his fingers in front of his face, tapping them softly against his chin. “Look at you, using our relationship to your advantage. I thought you were against mixing business with pleasure.” The way he says pleasure is obscene. I know he intended it that way by the sly smile he offers. “Of course you can have it, Princess.” He picks up my hand and brings it to his lips. “But you have to shop the story around instead of printing it in the Gazette. That paper’s too small for an exclusive like this. At least sell it to a larger Atlanta newspaper with more credibility.”

“I can do that, but my editor’s going to be pissed.”

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