Friday, August 24, 2012


~Chapter 75~

One more night apart and then she’s all mine again for the foreseeable future. We should really take another trip together, maybe somewhere warm and sunny this time, somewhere with a gigantic bath tub in the room. I wonder how hard it would be to get her away from the rat race and truly unplug. Just a cozy double date: Edward and Isabella, Master and princess. Yes, I think that’s just the ticket.

The elevator doors open on the 37th floor and I stop dead in my tracks. Jasper’s playing kissy-face with Alice, bent over her desk, one hand in his pocket, his nose to hers, Alice’s tiny but firm fingers gripping his hair.

Well good for you, Whitlock, I allow. Hell, the happier he is with her, the less time he’ll spend pining for my girl.

I pivot and head for the conference room, where I plan to preach a new topic for today’s seminar—Safety First. After Isabella’s SOS yesterday, I realized all the software training in the world won’t help if our execs can’t retrieve their files.

Westerly saunters in first, taking his regular seat near the head of the table, but saving the seat of honor for his boss, the CEO. “Good stuff, Edward, good stuff.”

“Thank you, Wes. Glad you got something out of yesterday’s session.”

He grins at my use of his nickname. I think I just took thirty years off by the looks of his smile. “I guess you can teach an old dog new tricks, after all.”

“Gotta keep the old cogs moving up there,” I volley back, easy banter while I set up today’s presentation.

My attention is redirected as Bailey sweeps into the room, a good-ol’-boy arm around Jasper’s shoulders.

“She did great. They’re just waiting for the numbers to come in,” Bailey boasts, and my ears prick up.

Jasper startles, the look of a man who’s just been given credit for a group gift he didn’t realize his name was on. His eyes click to mine and he reddens.

“Hey, uh, that’s great, Tom. They really nailed the walk-through last week, so I’m not surprised Harper was impressed,” Jasper answers without clearing up the misunderstanding.

Bailey’s eyes widen as he notices me and he leaves Jasper abruptly to race to my side, hand extended. “Cullen,” he says warmly, pumping my hand enthusiastically and cupping my elbow with the other. “Where’d you park that white stallion of yours?”

I look away from the balding elder executive and catch Jasper watching us with a dozen questions dancing across his face. Returning my attention to Bailey, I answer, “Oh, he’s outside having some hay and getting ready to sync with his Dropbox account.”

Bailey guffaws and answers, “Well you let me know when he does, son. I will personally go out there with a shovel and pick it up myself!”

“So you guys really do shovel the shit all day up here?”

“Ha! Well played, Cullen.” He slaps me on the back and repeats, “Well played!”

Then, pulling me in closer, he says, “Seriously, son, we owe you big on this. Are you a Scotch drinker?”

Never touch the stuff, but I know better than to deprive the man of his gesture. If it’s smooth enough, I can always give it to Dad for his birthday. “I’ve been known to have a nip or two,” I grin collegially.

He smiles anew and winks. “Excellent. And thank you again.”

“All in a day’s work, Tom.”

Bailey shakes his index finger and continues to give me that You’re-More-Than-I-Expected nod. When he leaves to take his seat, Jasper can no longer contain his curiosity. He pulls up next to me as quickly as a man can without attracting attention.

“What was all that?” he mutters, leaning in so only I can hear.

I wave my hand through the air between us. “Small IT emergency. It’s handled.”

“Apparently,” he answers, equal parts gratitude and chagrin.

Again, Jasper inspires a protective reflex in me. “Nothing I wouldn’t have done for her six months ago, Jasper.”

He huffs and crosses his arms. “Glad you didn’t have the chance.”

There’s nothing to say now that we’re treading on quicksand. I acknowledge his comment with a current-squeeze-to-ex nod and turn back to my preparations. Just as I’m ready to call the session to order, in walks the Chief, a huge grin on his face.

The boys on 37 are dancing a jig today! So proud!

Edward’s message is the best possible wake-up text.

It’s not over till Turandot sings!

I know he can’t volley back right now, but at least he’ll know I got his note. The time difference affords me two solid hours alone with my new laptop before our meeting, and I’m delighted that two of my favorites have commented on my post already.

[Comment on your Journal] Entry 7: BLIND
Damn princess,
I was listening, I swear I was.  Proud of you for the trust.  Sure that the panic will eventually fade away.  But want to share with the rest of the class what you did for your Master?  Because the not knowing is making me tingle and flush and...OH!  I bet this is kinda how you feel, being blindfolded with your Master.

Nicely done, kitkat

KK-I hope you’re right about the panic, but I’m guessing at least the ‘tingle and flush’ will stick around. Of course, Master hardly needs to blindfold me to provoke THAT response! Not sharing, but suffice it to say that I’d wish I’d had that blindfold the next morning! *more blushing* Thx for the encouragement, as ever! ~yp

And from my seasoned submissive friend, I have this:

Oh yp...'Sink into it' is exactly what you need to do. Being blindfolded is a little off-setting at first, but it gets easier. It def makes it easier to do those things that make you
I'll make a suggestion that you can do with as you please, but first confer with Master. Walk around your house and get the feel for EVERYTHING around you. It makes it easier to walk around blindfolded if you know for a fact where EVERYTHING is. I did it and felt extremely better the next few times I was blindfolded.
But the most important factor as always is TRUST IN MASTER. He will not lead you astray, it’s not in His makeup to do that to you.
Always, His kitten
 kitten- Love your suggestion and I will pass it along to Master. (Well, he’s most likely already read it himself as he’s been up already for three hours!) I’m sure it would help to have a better sense of where walls and furniture are located.
Your words are comforting, and of course, I realize Master would never lead me astray. But perhaps I haven’t mentioned that my Master can occasionally be a bit of a trickster? He does keep me on my toes…when I’m not on my knees, that is. Thanks for being here for me, my subbie sister. xx ~yp

After our lengthy discussion last night, it occurred to me that Master had so much more in mind by blindfolding me than the purpose I thought I comprehended at the time. By drawing me into darkness while standing comfortingly at my side, he actually devised a way to bridge the miles now dividing us. Trust and intimacy are not diminished by physical distance, and as he taught most dramatically, Master is every bit emotionally present whether locked around me in a physical embrace or reduced to the blink of a cursor on my screen, just as my darling boyfriend—and the word seems more inadequate with every passing day—is only a text or phone call or Skype away. Though as the day wears on, I feel his distance more than his presence.

Punching out and heading to Smilers for high-sodium processed chicken and nutrient-free canned corn niblets.

Trying to make me feel guilty?

No babe. Just want you to know how much you’ve taught me.

You’ve learned it’s awful for you but you’re still eating it. Does that count as teaching?

Mmhmm. Sometimes the dangerous stuff’s the most fun!

Don’t I know it, Mr. Danger!

You flatter me, Isabella.

It feels great to stretch my legs in the wintery dusk, especially since Isabella is keeping me company with her entertaining texts.

“Edward, where ya been man? Long time no see.”

“Abdul, how are you?”

Talk later- preservatives await.


I tuck Isabella into my coat pocket for the time being. “Good man, good. The usual?”

“Sure.” Abdul grabs the divided styrofoam plate and reaches for my half-chicken. I feel a sharp pang of guilt as he scoops up a metal spoonful of corn.

“Hang on. I don’t want that tonight. I’ll have…” Shit, not creamed spinach, not butternut squash…“Hit me with the fruit salad.”

“Say what now?” Abdul asks, squinting with disbelief and holding the corn aloft, like an F-16 fighter pilot awaiting the presidential launch codes.

“You know that corn has almost no nutritional value whatsoever?”

Poor Abdul looks like I just took away his shiny new wagon. “Since when do you care?” he responds.

I shrug and after measuring my expression for another long moment, he drops the corn back into the chafing dish with a loud clang of rejection.

As he reaches for the fruit salad spoon, I blurt, “I have a girlfriend.”

This is by far the longest conversation the two of us have ever had. I have no idea why I spilled the beans over side dish selections, but it feels oddly satisfying to have told him.

Abdul grins and says, “Another one bites the dust.”

“I think I’m too tired to brush my teeth,” I admit sleepily.

Edward chuckles, and I’m amazed that after only two days apart, my mental picture is starting to get a tiny bit fuzzy around the edges. “Screw it,” he coaches. “Scrub extra hard in the morning.”

“Gross,” I giggle. “Besides, all the lights are on and I’m still dressed.”

He pauses and then his voice takes on a wistful quality. “I sure wish I could help you with that.”

“So do I,” I answer truthfully, then tease, “The light switches are like a mile away."

"Ho ho ho."

"So how was your corn tonight?”

A rush of air. “I didn’t get it.”

I bolt upright against the headboard and cradle the phone with both hands, wishing strenuously it could be his flesh instead of the cold metal substitute. “Oh no?” I attempt nonchalance, but this is as big as his telling me he wasn’t hungry on Sunday. There’s a direct line between Edward’s heart and his stomach; if one end of the line is off, the other suffers.

“Nah,” he answers, and I can almost picture him scratching his head. “I heard this little voice in my head and I went for the fruit instead.”

“Fruit?” Okay, maybe this wouldn’t be newsworthy for ninety percent of men, but for Edward? This is prime time headline material. “Hang on, are you referring to those over-processed apple imposters floating in a vat of cinnamon syrup?”

“No, sweetheart. Real live cut up fruit. Melon, grapes, pineapple, a veritable orchard!”

He is so damn proud of himself. “Wow. That is impressive.”

“Oh shit. You’re gonna tell me something bad about grapes now, aren’t you?” Poor guy.

And now I can’t contain my giggles. “Not at all. Your little voice didn’t steer you wrong.”

And that little voice would be mine, I squee internally in my lonely hotel room. Is it ridiculous that I’m thrilled my boyfriend has obeyed me for a change? Let’s face it; our relationship is far from equal. Master’s dominance goes without saying, and despite our relative positions, it is clear that IT guy holds the upper hand in our Swan life, as evidenced again in yesterday’s impressive save. But Edward the boyfriend/lover/roommate? How does that particular seesaw sway?

I don’t know how he manages it, but Edward somehow oozes humility and an openness to trying new things. He’s not afraid of looking silly, and evidently, he’s not afraid to let go of old ideas and improve himself. It surprises me that I find this side of him possibly as exciting as his skillful and thorough domination.

I’ve sunk deep into my daydream, so he startles me a bit when he says, “It hasn’t yet. I know a wise voice when I hear it, Isabella.”

I savor his sweet praise for a few long moments, then ask expectantly, “And what do you have planned for yourself for the rest of the night?”

“I’m treating myself to a Dexter marathon.”

“Mmm, sounds cheery.”

“Isn’t it though? He would make a fantastic dom, you know? Controlling, organized, skilled in the use of his instruments…”

“But he’s a cold-blooded killer!” I protest.

“Oh sure, if you want to get technical about it.”

“So, you gonna stay up all night?”

“Nah, I think I can handle two and then I’m gonna turn in.”

“You sound exhausted, Edward.”

Long pause. “I miss you.”

I hunker down into the pillow and sigh, closing my eyes. “Right back at ya, big guy.”

“Hey, um…” he struggles a bit. “Do you think this is normal?”

“What? Missing each other after only two days apart?”

“I’d say ‘missing each other’ is a gross understatement. I’m rattling around this place I’ve called home for the better part of eight years, and …hell. After three weeks of having you here, all I see is what’s missing. Your handbag on the little table by the door, your shoes kicked under the coffee table, your toothbrush next to the sink.”

“Sounds like your roommate’s a total slob!” I’m teetering on that fine line between laughter and tears.

“It’s awful, actually. But you know the worst part?”

In my mind, I cradle his beautiful head in my arms. “No, baby. Tell me.”

“I’m missing your icicle feet on my shins in the middle of the night.”


“I know. Whipped City, right?”

“You do seem to exhibit all the symptoms.”

“Jesus. They’re gonna take away my D-card.”

“You poor bastard.”


“Hey wait a second. If they take away your D-card, I’m kind of screwed, too.”


“How are we gonna solve this little problem?”

“I don’t know,” he says forlornly. “Maybe if you miss me, too?”

“Oh, Edward. I miss you so much it’s not even funny.”

“Really?” He perks up. “Tell me.”

“Okay, at lunch today, one of my co-workers ordered sweet potato fries and it made my heart flip over.”


His brightening voice is all the motivation I need. “On the way back, we passed a stationery store and there was a feather pen in the window. I swooned a little bit.”

“I can imagine.”

“And then, back at the client, I logged into our dropbox account, and…well. I don’t need to tell you what that did to me.”

“Nothing sexier than dropbox.”

“Nothing sexier than you, Edward.”

“Mm. Have I mentioned how much I miss you?”


“Yeah?” Sigh.

“I love you.”

Another sigh. “I love you, too, sweetheart.”

Another morning waking up alone, and this time, my body is tense with unrelieved yearning.

“Easy there, fella,” I pacify my stiff cock with a casual pass of my palm. “Isabella’s coming back today and Master has plans for our girl.”

Ruminating about our reunion scene does the opposite of relieving the ache. “I know, big guy. Hang in there.” I chuckle at my own discomfort as if this disappointed cock in my hand were someone else’s, and I step into the shower. If I took a short “bye” in my hygiene while she was away, I make up for it now, even sprinkling generously with Bálla Powder to last the busy work day.

Master’s not the only one who’s been making plans. The big difference, though, is that Master simply dictates; Edward, on the other hand, will be presenting an itinerary for his girlfriend’s approval. If the dates I’ve checked with Jessica do indeed work comfortably for Isabella, I’ll tell her as little as I can about the destination. Equal or not, I still love to surprise my girl!

I miss the friendly banter with Domenic, but love the way the crisp January air fills my lungs. I make a mental note to ask Isabella about walking to work in the future; I know her shoes aren’t quite as comfortable as mine and I think I might cry if she takes to wearing sneakers with her corporate attire, but I do love starting my day this way and of course, anything I enjoy alone is double the pleasure with my girl.

It’s back to the grind today, and I see that Emmett has been piling his toughest cases on my desk while I’ve been upstairs with “The Walking Dead,” as he deems them. The description is so incongruous with the men I’ve come to appreciate over the last couple weeks, especially Charlie. If they’d appeared to be languishing, it’s only because nobody was around to nurture their participation in the Information Age. Under my tutelage, they seem to have shed a century among them, their steps bouncier and their minds sharper even in the short week we’ve worked together. Jasper started out ahead of the curve, but technology is the great equalizer, and one of the things I love most about our seminar format is that everyone can be the expert at some point. For a bunch of guys who’ve been kicking around these halls for so many years together, this is a way to see themselves and each other in new relationship. I honestly look forward to our workshops next week, and I can guarantee they all feel the same.

In the meantime, my regular load will hopefully keep me busy enough today that I won’t dwell on how badly I need my girl back at my side. After hashing out her last submissive journal entry, I feel Isabella now fully understands that her neediness is not only my pleasure, but it’s entirely my goal. Her guilt is not only unnecessary, it’s counterproductive. My own need, however, is a strange force I’m not entirely comfortable with as of yet.

I’m confident today’s work load will keep me from becoming sidetracked by the writing tasks I’ve given Isabella for the plane ride home. With Warwick locked in, her brain cells are all mine, as far as I’m concerned. And Master has taken advantage of that fact by assigning her not only her regular post-scene journal entry, but a creative writing project to boot.

Riding the wave of my professional high, I slip into the restroom in the Warwick reception area and unzip the inner pouch of my handbag. Talk about delayed gratification, it’s been twelve hours since Master’s instructions last night, eight of which were spent in that dreamy pre-writing fantasy state, where the Dark Prince enslaved my subconscious and acted out his kinky plot lines before my closed eyelids. Master’s command to refrain from touching myself would not have been a problem before his writing assignment; the heaviness in Edward’s voice alone was enough to poison my libido. But that devilish Master of mine surely knew what he would stir, forcing me to write just for him.

Thus, while the taxi to the airport is filled with boastful chatter, I lovingly fondle Master’s bracelet while my faraway mind churns with imagery and prose. Other body parts churn as well, empathic desire on behalf of my princess, who is about to have her roughest go yet with the Dark Prince; but more prominently, my own sweet longing for my Master and boyfriend, who during our physical separation has morphed nearly into one perfect creature in my mind.

~ / ~

CHAT/Journal Entry Eight
January 19, 2012

Master's assignment: How did it feel to play in the chat room?

Oh dear sweet Master,

*SIGH* ( See my chat speak?) Down you’ve drawn me, into another erotic rabbit hole. Of course I loved it and in the very next breath, I fear that I loved it.

I feel hypocritical, my life now consists of so many contradictions. I guess on some level, I always felt that “coming out” and becoming a true submissive would eradicate the conflicting emotions. Perhaps it’s a process, and I’m simply not there yet; but more likely, I’m guessing I’ll always have this “good girl” element who will pin me to my stark sense of right and wrong like a puppy on a retractable leash. I know how he feels to reach the end of that tether at a full-out run!

I have to admit, I loved the idea of being touched and *BLUSH* even being SPANKED by other men (especially knowing that he was a dom *SHIVERS*), although I can never see myself wanting ANYTHING like that in real life. What is WITH my online embodiment? She/I couldn’t get it rough enough! I shudder to think about delegating my checklist to that hussy! Is this what you’re hoping to show me by drawing me into online play—that I can find a comfort level in the anonymity and free my inner submissive? Not that I expect you to reveal yourself, Master. In fact, I can almost see you grinning and answering me that it’s all about you—that having me serving you with an envious audience is even more satisfying. If that’s the case, Master, I’d respectfully argue that more people in that room were envious of my position than yours!

So why is it that the relatively tame open-mouthed kiss really freaked me out in a Pretty Woman kind of way? Perhaps it was an intimacy issue for me—even though the touching and watching and taunting got me worked up, there’s a large piece of me that only works with you. (And I wouldn’t want it any other way!) Thank you for swooping in and protecting me as soon as I let you know I was uncomfortable; you found the perfect way to make me feel safe again. Master, I could sit at your knees with my head in your lap until the end of time and never miss a thing. I have never felt so honored to be yours.

Following you eagerly, Master, wherever you choose to lead-
~your princess

Emmett and Rosalie make a quiet but impressive entrance. In the interest of romance in general, and probably because I’m feeling all sappy missing my own girl, I glance up from my desk and take in their roving make-out session. They are lost to the world, all lips and tongues and deep nose-breathing. They don’t bump into a single piece of cubicle, which leads me to believe they’ve been practicing this particular move. Rosalie senses my presence first, one eye squinting open at the unwelcome intruder. To her credit, she breaks off the kiss gently, disengaging with an unhurried significant look deep into Emmett’s eyes that gives me hope for the two of them.

Emmett catches my eye as the two pull apart. He’s neither embarrassed nor boastful, and it makes me remember why I used to like being with him before our careful equilibrium was tipped with the arrival of the new boss. Clearly, there’s a new détente among the three of us, a symbiosis in our ecosystem.

“Morning, Edward,” Rosalie says, unknotting the scarf at her neck and pulling off her hat.

“Morning. Emmett.” I nod to each of them.

“I need to talk to you both. Let me just get unwrapped. Be right back.”

Emmett pulls off his own winter accessories while following Rosalie’s back into her office with his eyes. I chuckle softly as he continues to track her movements on the other side of the glass divider. He turns to me and says, “It’s fun down here when you’re upstairs.”

“Oh geez. Are you two getting your kink on right here in the open?” I ask.

Emmett shrugs, which I interpret to mean, hell yes.

“Hey, man. Sorry to spoil your fun. Believe me, I’d way rather be upstairs every day.”

“Oh I bet you would, lover boy,” Emmett replies with a comical wink.

“Hmm, yes, let’s see what we can do about that,” Rosalie interjects, entering the space between us.

And now my interest is piqued. “What can we do about that?” Let’s not beat around the bush, shall we?

Rosalie settles her ass on the edge of a spare workspace. She crosses her arms and smiles. “You are a runaway hit with the boys upstairs, Edward.”

“You make me sound like a blockbuster movie.”

She chuckles. “So do they. They’re asking for four days a week. And not just with them. They feel, and I quote, ‘every employee of Swan deserves the Edward Cullen touch.’”

“Jesus,” I marvel.

“Pffffffffffft,” Emmett erupts with raucous laughter.

“Rosalie, how am I gonna do four days of training when I come back to this—” I indicate the pile on my desk, “after only  two?”

Now Emmett’s a bit sheepish, realizing he’s the limiting factor. Rosalie shoots him a sympathetic look, then turns right back to me. “Look, Edward. What’s good for the boys upstairs is good for the whole company. How hard would it be for you to train Emmett to handle these?”

Emmett immediately whines, “But Rosie, how’m I gonna do twice the work?”

She holds out her hand to halt him. “I’ve been authorized to hire another technician. Someone at an entry level to do your scut work, Em.” She smiles charmingly at Emmett and he melts.

“So let me get this straight,” I reply. “I teach Emmett how to cover the tougher trouble calls and I get to spend more time on my training program?”

She holds her arms open, palms up. “That’s the plan.”

I look over at an eager Emmett, a guy who finally sees his chance to move up the ladder, to have an underling of his very own. “Let’s get to it, Emmett. I have an appointment at 5:30 and I cannot be late.”

Rosalie nods at the two of us and escapes to her office. “You really think you can teach me this stuff in one day?”

“Now that you’re motivated to learn? Absolutely.”

“Enlighten me.”

Emmett is an enthusiastic and quick study, and before the clock strikes four, I take a break to send my submissive a message. Mushball Edward may have been out of his element during his girlfriend’s absence, but Master knows how to welcome his sweet subbie home. My princess will know she’s in for a full dose of Master the moment she turns on her cell phone on the runway. If all goes well, her panties will be soaked before the jetway is secured to the airplane door.

“Welcome to the Big Apple. Local time is approximately…4:15, and folks, that brings us to JFK right on schedule! We hope you enjoyed…”

The Manhattan skyline always brings a rush of familiarity, but never before have I felt such an overwhelming sense of coming home. Somewhere, in the subterranean level of those mid-town skyscrapers, my whole world awaits. I have no care about anything but the one man who has invaded my every wakeful and subconscious thought, fully captured my heart, and taken complete ownership of every erogenous zone, including several I did not previously know existed. I have one burning thought the moment those wheels touch down.


Cursing myself for being such a goody-goody and following directions to a tee, I reach acrobatically with my toes, flexing and tensing every muscle in both legs, until I feel the give of soft leather lodged deep beneath the seat in front of me. Ignoring the stares of my seat partner as I twist and grimace, I finally secure the damn thing between my thumb toes and drag it toward me. I explore the dark recesses of my purse with my impatient fingers and will myself to calm the hell down before I have a stroke. With an audible sigh of relief, I lay my fingers on the gel cover and retract the phone and my ridiculously shaking hands, tossing the handbag to the floor and shoving it back under the seat, lest I attract the flight attendant’s unwanted attention. My heart races as my phone cycles through its boot-up routine, and I nearly jab my fingernail right through the screen when it asks if I want to switch to Eastern Standard Time.

“Yes, dammit,” I hiss under my breath.

My mouth is dry as I watch the inbox populate with messages. I make it my mission to scroll through faster than the tiny number can measure them, until finally, somewhere around message twenty-six, I see the blessed text conversation bubble.

princess- Welcome home. I hope you completed your two writing assignments. Once you make it inside the terminal, boot up your laptop, post your sub journal entry and email me your HEA outtake. Then hop in the car with Domenic and have him deliver you to the Four Seasons before dropping your luggage at my place. I will meet you in the hotel lobby bar exactly at 5:30. Do not speak to me until I give you permission. I missed you so much, princess. -Master

Friday, August 17, 2012


~Chapter 74~

Are you ready, princess?

My phone feels like a live grenade in my hand. Master is waiting for my answer, and I know he won’t be kept waiting very long without dire consequences.

May I have ten minutes please, Master? I type back with shaky fingers.

8:42. Naked. Bring your bracelet over to the computer and log onto Skype.

“See you all back here for breakfast at 7:30. Roger, don’t forget your laptop tomorrow.”

“Very funny. As if I’d ever leave it behind again?”

“’Night everyone.”

I bolt as they chorus their responses, my mind already flying. I run a brush through my hair and manage to arrange myself at the desk just in time to manage the few clicks required to log on to Skype. I see my face reflected on the screen but Master’s box has no video feed.

“Are you ready, princess?” His voice startles me.

“Yes, Master, but I can’t see you.”

“I know. Tonight, I’m watching you, and the first thing I’d like to see is you putting on my bracelet.”

I’m jolted by the idea of this one-way looking glass. In a strange way, it’s almost like wearing the blindfold again. I can see everything but Master. I fasten the bracelet and his voice comes through the speakers, “Sit up straight, Isabella.”

Crap. I glance down to my own image in the corner of my screen and confirm I am indeed slouching, a situation I quickly remedy. “Sorry, Master.”

My phone bleeps and there’s another text with a website, which I dutifully type into my computer browser. My stomach leaps to my throat as a chat room dialogue opens on my screen. Master has brought me to another of those forbidden zones I’ve always been curious about, but prohibited myself from exploring out of fear of being discovered somehow by The Great Wizard Of IP Addresses In The Moral Sky. But if I’m honest, I have to admit to an equally powerful fear- what happens if I slide down the rabbit hole and don’t want to resurface? Or I do, somehow, claw my way back to “real life” only to discover the Mad Hatter or the White Rabbit has followed me?

Obeying Master is becoming a reflex, but years of self-censorship and repression require me to consciously affirm my faith: I trust Master, he wouldn’t risk exposing me, he knows what he’s doing. Three deep breaths later, I receive further instructions.

Screen Name: princess
Password: boggle12511

“Follow me into the BDSM room,” Master instructs. Once I click on the link, I find DarkPrince waiting for me on the right side of the screen.

And we’re far from alone in here.

“See that space at the bottom of the screen? That’s where we can private message each other. You’ll hear a ping if I call you. Click there and we’ll be alone. Understand?”

My heart pounds and my palms are sweaty, but I feel comforted that I have a means of speaking with him privately.

“Yes, Master.”

“Good. When I check in with you to see where you are, answer me immediately. If you need me, click on me and we can chat. Whatever you do, Isabella, do NOT click on any other screen names down there. I do not want you private chatting with anyone but me. I will manage everything that happens inside the room. Got it?”

“But what if there are other doms in the room?”

“You only have one Master to serve, Isabella.”

Only, I mouth silently.

“I saw that,” Master chastises breezily.

Crap. The one-way video feed has me flummoxed. My eyes flick up to the tiny dark circle where I know the camera is housed. “Sorry, Master,” I say remorsefully.

“That’s okay, princess. I know I am more than enough for you.”

“That you are, Master.”

“Back to your question,” his disembodied voice explains, “you are never to respond to commands from anyone else unless I have specifically ordered you to do so. Any dom worth his salt knows how it works. If they want to stay and play within my authority, I’ll decide if and how you are to respond to others, and I will make it crystal clear to you.”

“Thank you, Master.”

I don’t have the first clue how this works, but Master knows this, so I wait as patiently as I possibly can for more direction. Meanwhile, my eyes shift to the other names on the list, colorful characters such as horniguy and the gender-neutral iliketowatch.

My head is spinning with the novelty and infinite possibilities of this new Wonderland. I’m already beyond intrigued and my body hums with anticipation and a bit of terror. Leave it to Master to find a way to engage my mind so fully with his while we can’t be together physically.

“When you type into the main area, it shows up in the chat room. Go ahead and type in, ‘May I serve you, Dark Prince?’”

That gets her motor started. Isabella looks edgy, but definitely excited. Her message pops up on the screen:

princess >  DarkPrince: May I serve you, Dark Prince?

DarkPrince >  princess:  You may.

“The only other thing you need to know is to use asterisks to indicate action. Watch this.”

DarkPrince >  princess:  *motions princess to kneel*

She immediately responds on screen:

princess: *kneels at the feet of the DarkPrince*

“Beautifully done, princess. Here we go now; I won’t be speaking again until the scene in here is over. Any last minute questions?”

“Yes, please. Am I supposed to actually do these things, you know, like kneeling?”

Right, I’m watching her and she knows it.

“Great question. Not yet. For now, let’s just get you used to the feel of the chat room. Make sure I have a nice view of your tits, and I’ll let you know if things change.”

Her eyes flick to the tiny camera and she’s blushing from forehead to chest. Perfect. And delightful to watch, for sure. But that’s not my main reason for keeping an eye on her while we play.

This is the first time we’ve attempted long distance play, and I have a healthy respect for all the things that can go wrong in a public scene. Other people are wild cards—granted, that’s part of what makes the whole thing exciting—but I won’t risk Isabella’s welfare on a roomful of horny strangers who may not know or choose to follow the rules of engagement.

By the same token, there’s something fresh and exciting about a public scene with like-minded parties who are actually invited to observe and participate, albeit virtually, to the extent I allow them. This isn’t the random server in a restaurant who’s brought unwittingly into our orbit; these people have chosen to be here because it floats their boat, too.

Many are doms or dom-wannabes, who come here to find a steady stream of willing partners craving their authority. Men and women who might lack confidence or might not have the opportunity to strike out and dominate a partner in person—for whatever reason—can often hook up for a scene or longer, if the online chemistry is right. I’ve watched some truly gifted doms in these rooms; masters not only with their words but at tapping into deeply-buried desires of total strangers who have given nothing away about their personalities beyond choosing a pen name. I’ve observed masters who are genius at concocting the exact formula of harsh and tender to enthrall the submissive. And I’ve admired masters who are so chameleon-like, they can command an entire roomful of submissives at once, keeping each spinning on a separate string, breathless to serve.

Most visitors to this room are submissives by nature, whether they’re living the lifestyle or just dreaming they could. Some have already taken an enormous risk just by entering the chat room, and they’re content to sit along the sidelines and watch while the more daring souls bring their fantasies to life. Others will jump in with both feet, finding the anonymity so liberating it allows them to explore without fear of physical pain or discovery.

What many on both sides of the equation often fail to fully appreciate is the enormous danger present on a psychological level in these virtual relationships. We’re all vulnerable in this place where letting down one’s guard is essential to authenticity. I’m happy to titillate others, but my priority is obviously my submissive.

As it does each time I introduce Isabella to a new facet of the lifestyle, her excitement electrifies me. Everything is fresh and new and unknowable. For a self-proclaimed control freak, it shakes me to acknowledge my need for the uncertain. I wonder about Isabella’s Dark Prince: does she always know what he’ll say and do before she writes a scene? Does he dictate the writing as he dictates the princess’s behavior? Does the author ever get to the end of a chapter and shake her head in amazement, wondering, How on Earth did that happen?

Questions for another time. The room awaits. I arrange my fingers over the keyboard and settle into the scene. We’ve already got some observers, as the “welcome” and  *staring* from the Peanut Gallery attest.

DarkPrince:  *wiggles toes*

princess: *bends over and kisses DarkPrince’s feet*

DarkPrince >  princess:  Thank you, my sweet subbie.

subslut > DarkPrince: May I kiss ur feet too DarkPrince?

DarkPrince >  subslut:  Thank you for asking but just watch for now subslut.

DarkPrince >  princess:  *sits down on couch and taps thighs*

princess: *puts head in Master’s lap*

DarkPrince: *pulls fingers through princess’s hair*

DarkPrince >  princess:  That’s a beautiful dress you’re wearing, princess. I’d like you to take it off now.

Without hesitation, the words appear on the screen:

princess: *unties halter top, grasps red spandex at hips, tugs upward…over waist, chest, shoulders, and head, folds dress neatly and pushes out of the way*

DarkPrince >  princess:  Lovely striptease, princess. Now the bra.

princess: *blushes*

It’s true, I can see that she is most definitely blushing, and she’s drawn a deep breath. She needs a moment, but I’m confident if she has a problem, she’ll call me into the private room. Take your time, princess. Pull yourself together.

princess: *reaches back to unhook bra, looks up at DarkPrince*

What a poignant SOS. Her soft brown eyes blink into the tiny camera on her monitor, seeking my help.  

DarkPrince: *leans forward and kisses princessGood girl. Take off your bra for your Master.

princess: *unhooks bra*

fuckherharder: Come on princess. Show us what u got

princess: *eyes on DarkPrince, slides strap over right arm, catches bra with left hand, slips strap over left arm*

DarkPrince >  princess:  *nods* Hand me your bra and drop your hands to your sides.

princess: *hands bra to DarkPrince*


princess: *right hand drops to side*

pervyone: Left hand! Left hand!

princess: *left hand falls away, eyes drop to DarkPrince’s feet*

Her submissive scripting matches the fact that she’s looked down from the camera, processing the humiliation of baring herself in front of a group of strangers. What she cannot share with the Dark Prince’s (or for that matter, her Master’s) eyes just yet is given away by a deep rosy blush.

Supercock > princess: Great tits, princess.

horniguy: Now we’re talkin!!

I check Isabella’s response as she reads the comments, and she’s far from freaked out by the attention. In fact, her nipples are puckered and her eyes are bright with arousal. Let’s go, princess.

DarkPrince >  princess:  Turn toward the others and pinch your nipples.

princess: *faces other people, pinches nipples between thumb and forefinger*

fuckherharder: Fuck that is so hot!!!

iliketowatch: *moans*

Supercock > princess: Twist those nipples harder, princess!

DarkPrince > Supercock: She’s mine, Supercock. You may play but I’m in charge.

subslut > DarkPrince: Could you be in charge of ME, Sir? Pretty pretty please with a nipple on top?

DarkPrince >  subslut:  *smiles* Not tonight, subslut.

<Supercock has left room>

Fine by me. We’ve got at least three other self-identified doms in the room, and so far they’re all watching quietly. It’s possible they’re enjoying the scene for its own sake, but more likely they’re drafting—waiting until our scene plays out and I leave them to inherit the roomful of horny submissives.

DarkPrince >  princess:  Panties next.

fuckherharder: *grins*

princess: *grasps waistband of green lace cheekies*

Isabella smiles and lifts her gaze back into the camera. She’s allowing her sassy spirit to come out and play.

princess: *stands in front of DarkPrince, facing away. Bends forward, peeling panties slowly down over ass cheeks, shimmies lace over slightly spread thighs, now calves, now ankles, steps out*

DarkPrince > princess: *swats naughty subbie for teasing Master, smoothes palm over pinked up ass cheek*

fuckherharder: *watches with glee*

pleasesiriwantsomemore > DarkPrince: Again!

horniguy > DarkPrince: Fuck yes, again!

DarkPrince > princess: Hear that, princess? They want me to spank you again. I think I better give you a chance to go win over the crowd or this might be a long night for your sweet ass. Crawl across the soft Oriental rug and say hello to our new friends.

I’ve given everyone the visual to keep her safe. We’re here, they’re on the other side of the room. The two will only come together at my command.

princess > horniguy*drops onto all fours, crawls across room to horniguy* Hello.

horniguy >  princess:  Hey sexy. Your crawling is making me sofa king hot.

princess > subslut:  *crawls over to subslut* Hello, subslut.

subslut >  princess:  hi *lucky bitch*

I watch with great satisfaction as the characters fall into their roles, Isabella greeting each one down the line before returning to me. Time to use the virtual setting to my advantage and get my sweet subbie worked up.

DarkPrince >  princess:  Crawl over to horniguy again.

princess:  *crawls to horniguy*

horniguy >  princess:  hey sexy.

DarkPrince >  horniguy:  Run your hand over her long, brown hair, horniguy.

horniguy: *smiles and places hand on princess’ soft, silky hair*

DarkPrince > princess: How does that feel, princess?


Come on, Isabella. Say something. Do something.

Blink, blink.

Fuck, nothing. Then-

princess:  Feels nice.

If I hadn’t turned off my microphone earlier, she would’ve heard my large whoosh of relief.

DarkPrince > horniguy:  Slide your palm between her shoulder blades…now down her back…ever so slowly.

horniguy: thank you, DarkPrince. *touches princess’s back* mmmm your skin is so soffft

DarkPrince > princess: What color are we, princess?

princess:  Green

DarkPrince >  princess:  Say goodbye and thank you to horniguy.

princess >  horniguy:  Thank you for touching me, horniguy. Goodbye for now.

Damn, I can’t figure out how Isabella continues to combine modesty with an openness to exploration in a way that surprises me at every turn.

horniguy: bye, princess. *pouts*

DarkPrince > princess: Crawl over and kiss fuckherharder.

princess: *crawls to fuckherharder, kneels up, touches lips to fuckherharder*

fuckherharder > princess: *kisses back* Thanks for the kiss.

DarkPrince > princess: Nice. Let’s see some tongue this time.

princess: *kisses fuckherharder. Opens mouth*

fuckherharder: *twists tongue around princess’s tongue, slides around*


princess: YELLOW

DarkPrince:  Thank you for telling me.

DarkPrince > princess: That’s enough! Stop kissing and crawl back to me. Don’t forget to thank fuckherharder.

We’ve been at this for an hour now. It amazes me how much patience, and frankly, how much free time, all these people have. Master has built the scene slowly, impressively taking command of the room without so much as a care about what happened before we arrived. A few people have left the room since we started, but a crowd has gathered in their place. A whopping thirty-two people are watching us and commenting, a few getting in on the action whenever Master chooses.

My nerves have eased significantly, and it occurs to me that Master most likely chose the role play scene at home to prepare me for this chat. Not only that, but by using the blindfold on me while he was there to reassure me, Master laid the groundwork for this physical separation.

Perhaps what I love most about this latest of Master’s games is that I’m stretched over his lap, the virtual denim biting into my bare skin in a way I might not tolerate well if it were really happening. But the fantasy aspect of the chat is most definitely working for me, and my masochistic tendencies are having a field day. The more deeply Master engages the crowd in my humiliation, the rougher he plays, the more turned on I become. My virtual self is a pain slut, I realize, trying not to judge her harshly.

DarkPrince > princess: Choose your next card, princess.

princess: I choose iliketowatch.

DarkPrince > iliketowatch: Reveal your card.

iliketowatch: *turns over eight of hearts* Sorry, princess. *shrugs*

Considering iliketowatch could’ve invented any card except the few already played, I’m pretty sure she’s not the least bit sorry, but frankly, neither am I.

DarkPrince > princess: *dark chuckle* Oh princess, that wasn’t a very good choice. Eight swats with Master’s crop! And you just turned over a red card right before this too. Your poor sweet ass. *tsk tsks*

iliketowatch: *snickers*

DarkPrince > princess: *draws hair to one side and grips princess’s upper back* Thank iliketowatch and keep your eyes on her while I crop you.

princess > iliketowatch: Thank you.

DarkPrince: *slices crop through the air and swats princess*

iliketowatch: One. *smirks*


DarkPrince: *swats opposite cheek*

iliketowatch: Two

DarkPrince: *swish, smack, swat*

iliketowatch: Three, four, five *fingers self*

Lucky bitch!

subslut: *rubs thighs together*

Fucking hell! Everyone’s getting off but me!

DarkPrince: *whack, whack, WHACK* [rough]

princess: *squirms and groans*

iliketowatch: Six, seven, eight! *two fingers inside*

princess: > DarkPrince: Youch! Thank you, DarkPrince.

DarkPrince > princess: You’re welcome, but you better hope you find a black card this time, princess. I don’t think this sweet ass is going to be able to take much more abuse. *pinches cheek harshly*

Neither do I, Master. I’m so close to combusting right now, I think even an imaginary touch is going to set me off.

princess: *squirms*

Dare I? I’d never be so bold in a scene with Master, but Merry Mills has empowered me to be a bit bolder in role play.

princess: *spreads thighs apart and lifts ass*

I can always count on my Dark Prince not to miss a beat.

DarkPrince > princessNaughty, naughty princess. *grasps thighs and holds princess open*

DarkPrince: [to group] Who wants to mete out the princess’s consequences?

Holy shit. He’s delegating my punishment to a stranger. Fifteen responses tumble in, everything from “Me” to “Please please please” to the one that obviously catches Master’s eye.

Youwillobey > DarkPrinceIf I may.

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: Be my guest.

Day-um! Master’s given me over to another dom, or maybe it’s a domme, but in my mind it’s a tightly-contained, bare-chested, muscle-bound man, dressed in tight black leather pants. Master barters with the man as if he’s tossing him the keys to his prize Ferrari. Apparently, his Ferrari has an oil leak because I am suddenly drenched with my own arousal and I can barely sit still on my chair. The feeling of being watched is suddenly overpowering, and I fix my posture and fasten a stoic expression on my face.

Youwillobey > DarkPrinceWould three on each side be acceptable to you?

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: *nods* Exactly what I was thinking.

Youwillobey > DarkPrince*crosses rug, flexes fingers* What a sweet ass she has, DarkPrince. I can see why you so love to crop it. May I use my bare hands instead?

DarkPrince > princess: Color?

princess > DarkPrinceGreeeeeeen

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: As you wish.

Youwillobey > DarkPrince*thoroughly inspects the target and grins* You’ll hold her open for me?

“Nnnnnhhh,” I moan out loud, then gasp and cover my mouth when I realize my slip. Not that I’ve been forbidden from talking or anything, just humiliating to be caught in the act. Luckily, only Master can hear me.

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: Yes, I’ll hold her spread wide for you, exactly how she likes it, don’t you, princess?

Gulp. I’m swirling in the blend of what’s taking place in the public realm and what’s only happening in private between the two of us. Master protects me and offers me out at the same time. I feel deliciously held in the palm of his hand while being wildly turned on by the prospect of a stranger’s virtual touch.

princess > DarkPrinceYes. Always open and eager for you, Master.

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: Just one caveat, Youwillobey. Stick to this part. *traces around ass cheeks* The rest of her is only for me. *rubs princess harshly between her legs and makes a show of licking slick fingers*

Youwillobey > DarkPrinceAgreed. Shall I get on with the punishment then?

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: Please do.

Youwillobey: *spanks right side three times, squeezing cheek roughly after the last blow*

princess > YouwillobeyThank you, Sir.

Youwillobey > DarkPrince*nods respectfully* You’ve taught her well.

I gush with pride as I also gush with intensified desire. The visual of these two commanding men—my Master and the dark stranger—staring into my private parts together is making me woozy with lust.

Youwillobey: *spanks harder on left cheek- once, twice, thrice*

princess > YouwillobeyThank you again, Sir.

DarkPrince > Youwillobey: Thank you for your assistance.

Youwillobey > DarkPrince: Any time. *crosses room*

DarkPrince > princess: Down, girl. *releases legs and pulls princess flat across jeans* Ready to continue the game?

princess > DarkPrinceAbsolutely.

DarkPrince > princess: Choose wisely. Only two cards left, the king of diamonds and the ten of clubs. Ten strokes of the crop or ten strokes with your Master’s finger. Who’s your pick?

princess: horniguy, please reveal your card for my DarkPrince.

horniguy > princess*winks* You’re in luck! It’s the ten of clubs!

DarkPrince > princess:  *shakes head* I’m not sure if that was a good pick or a bad pick. Ask the group if you’re allowed to come this time while you get your ten strokes. You remember how you almost blew it on the seven of spades? *raises eyebrow*

princess*begs* Everyone, may I PLEASE come???

Master tallies the votes while I weigh in with a stream of pleading comments—eyelash batting, ‘pretty  please with sugar on top’, promises to be their best friend, and the most effective, offers to select them first when Master allows audience participation. Clearly there’s a thin line between masochism and sadism as the votes are alarmingly close, with the YES votes edging out NO’s by the narrowest possible margin.

DarkPrince > princessWell, well, well, princess. Looks like you’re going to get your happy ending tonight. Flip over and thank everyone.

princess: *rolls onto back on DarkPrince’s lap* Thank you, everyone. *epic smiles*


I meet Master in the private room.

DarkPrince: When I start fingering you, I want you to touch yourself.

With great pleasure.

princess: Yes, Master.

DarkPrince: Be my hands. If I type it, you do it. When I command you to come on screen, I want you to come loud and hard in your room. You haven’t forgotten I’m watching and listening, have you, princess?

princess: No, Master. Of course not.

DarkPrince: You are excused from typing until afterwards.

princess: Yes, Master. Thank you so much.

DarkPrince: I want you to stand up and aim the camera at your pussy so I can watch you twitch and spasm for me. I’ll wait.

Holy freaking hell. I might just have one of those spontaneous orgasms right this second.

With shaky hands, I unplug the laptop and set it on the chair I’ve just vacated. Standing in front of the computer, I adjust the lid until the screen fills with the image Master demanded. Apparently satisfied, he leads me back to the main room and I watch and wait, my fingers eager to do Master’s bidding.

I stripped off my boxers during the epic vote, knowing no matter which way the extras voted for my submissive, there’s no question I’m getting my rocks off. This raging hard-on has been patient long enough. Damn, I wish I had my voice-to-text converter so I could just speak the commands without using my hands, and seeing her pussy fill my screen doesn’t exactly help the situation.

This is no longer about just the two of us. We have an audience who have been playing here for a good ninety minutes, and that’s deserving of a satisfying climax. Besides, if they enjoy tonight’s show, they’ll be back in full force next time we come to play, and by the looks of that glistening pussy, my girl likes to be watched—cyberly speaking, at least.

DarkPrince > horniguy: Count it down for me, horniguy. Ten strokes until blastoff. *Slides finger inside princess, pumps finger in and out, in and out*

horniguy: Ten.

While I indulge my penis with a good long stroke here, I reflect on the awesomeness of this moment. I have command of an entire roomful of voyeurs, half of whom are chatting about masturbating to our scene, while I can almost guarantee the other half are just doing it.

Meanwhile, my sweet submissive’s genitalia is splayed across my 27” monitor, a glorious animated version of whatever falls off my fingertips onto the keyboard. I write it, she does it. I’m a twisted Geppetto, bringing my fantasy sub to life. I watch with great fascination as she pumps herself with one finger, the audio feed adding a satisfying squishing sound along with her moans of pleasure. I hope she can last.

DarkPrince: *strums clit with fingertips, back and forth, back and forth*

horniguy: Nine

DarkPrince: *two fingers inside, twist and turn, in and out*

horniguy: Eight

iliketowatch: *twists and pumps*

subslut: *back and forth, up and down*

DarkPrince: *rough tap outside pussy, tap, tap, tap*

Ahh, fuck, watching her enact this one requires an extra long pause for Master to reward himself.

horniguy: Seven

DarkPrince > princess: I hope you’re watching the countdown, princess. Don’t come early. *fingers inside, pump, pump, pump*

horniguy: Six

DarkPrince: *strums clit*

Fuck it, I’m getting lazy.

horniguy: Five

DarkPrince: *PUMP IT HARDER*

Woops, caps lock. Whatever. Isabella takes the command to heart and I watch in awe as she slams her fingers in and out in living color. I’m enthralled to the point of forgetting my keyboard until her loud panting snaps me out of my mutual masturbation moment to type the next command. This scene is not about denial or even deferring her pleasure. I want us to peak together.

horniguy: Four

fuckherharder: *TUG TUG TUG*

subslut: *panties just combusted*

DarkPrince: *spreads open lips, rubs with other hand*

My eyes are glued to the screen.

horniguy: Three

DarkPrince: Getting close, princess. *faster, faster, faster*

Her on-screen moans get louder and all I can manage is a copy and paste job for the next two, unable to tear my eyes from her pussy or my hands from my cock long enough to create anything original.

DarkPrince: I hope you’re ready, princess. Come on, everyone. Time to tell the princess to come.

horniguy: POP IT, princess!

pervy1: Cummmm!

Tarzan: Come!

subslut: Tweak that bean!

Iliketowatch: comecomecome!!!

Youwillobey: Let go, princess!

fuckherharder: Now! Do it! Come!

DarkPrince > princess: Show me that pussy. Now rub that little clit good and hard. Don’t stop! Let me hear you, princess! Louder, louder. Moan for me. Rub it harder! Come for your Master!

Fuck, I’m close! The right third of my screen lights up like the Fourth of July sky as random exclamations of pleasure scroll down the page, but my eyes are glued on the quivering flesh taking up the rest of the picture. I frantically reach out to my speaker and twist the volume so her low growls fill my ears like the soundtrack to a porn flick. She spreads herself open and glistens and spasms and displays every ounce of pleasure. She squeals and screeches and thanks me repeatedly.

In my mind’s eye, I add in the sensations that have been denied by distance- touch, smell and taste. I brush my palm over her hairy pussy and circle my thumb over her wrinkly nub. I swoop in with my tongue and lap up her sweet juices, and while I’m there, I breathe in the musky scent of her release as I pulse and shudder to my own completion.

Her body stills and her hand falls away, and I need to see her.


DarkPrince: Go back over to the desk and show me your face.

princess: Yes, Master.

There’s an awkward shuffle where I’m treated briefly to a close-up of her tits bouncing and then I see her smile.

DarkPrince: Hello, beautiful.

princess: Hello, Master.

DarkPrince: We need to say goodbye to our friends now. Follow me back in.

DarkPrince: [to group] Thank you, everyone. The princess and I are heading out. See you again.

princess: [to group] Thank you all for a wonderful evening.

DarkPrince > princess: Sign off, princess.

<princess has left room>

Master’s post-orgasmic face pops up onto my screen, replacing the dark square that has held his place throughout our Skype session.

“Hello, Master,” I greet him, watching my own smile appear along with his.

“Hello, princess. Did you have a good time?”

“Yes, Master. Did you?” A bit forward of me, but his bright smile is positively irresistible.

“You bet I did. You were fantastic in there, Isabella. I’m so proud of you.”

Nothing could please me more than hearing those simple words from him. “Thank you, Master,” I answer in a hushed tone.

“I love you, my sweet Isabella. Please take off your bracelet.”

I do as he’s asked. “I love you, too, Edward.”

I slide forward, chin settled on my crossed arms. “I suppose you’re going to want to talk now?”