The Mailboy's Unexpected Submissive

Breakfast

- Jules' POV -

I woke up to the sound of my phone ringing, tearing me free of my dream where Ripley and I were laying in bed, just gazing into one another's eyes, smiles on both of our faces.

Who am I kidding? No one believes for a second that any dream I have regarding Ripley is innocent. If anything, they get more and more wild as both our relationship and time goes by.

I was once again snapped from my thoughts of my Dom by the annoying shrill ringing of my phone. I quickly reached over, ripping the charger from the bottom of it and answering it aggressively,

"What?!" I snarled down the line.

"Do we have an attitude this morning?"

It felt like someone had dunked me into the freezing waters of the Arctic ocean as his low voice rumbled down the line to me, shivers wracking through my prone body.

"Jules? Are you going to answer me?" He pressed on.

"I'm sorry, Sir. I didn't mean to and I didn't look at the caller identification. I normally do but I was asleep and am still tired and-"

"Jules, take a breath," he instructed, cutting me off. I began panting softly as I tried to regain the breath I hadn't noticed that I had lost in my desperate rambles of apologies and excuses. "I'm going to dismiss your attitude because it is obvious that you are tired and didn't do so on purpose. But, let this be your warning for not just today, but every other day as well: no matter the time, when you answer the phone, you do so politely. Am I understood?"

"Yes, Sir. I understand," I spoke quickly, hearing him give out a low hum.

"Now, on to my reason for calling you. I will be at your house in about thirty minutes, that way you have enough time to get dressed and ready for the day. Don't worry about breakfast, I will stop somewhere so that we can eat. Will you be ready in that amount of time?" He asked.

"Yes, Sir. I will be ready, but I'm not hungry," I said, playing with the bedsheet, knowing that he would not be pleased with me. He was never very happy about me claiming not to be hungry, but I just wasn't very hungry on the weekends or early in the morning.

"I know you aren't, Jules, but I would like it if you at least ate a little something. If you don't eat something now, you could get sick later on in the day, and I don't want that to happen," he said softly, already aware of my eating habits, or lack thereof.

"Okay, Sir. I will eat something small," I conceded with a soft sigh.

"Good. I will see you shortly, goodbye."

"Bye, Sir."

I hung up the phone and then dragged myself from my bed, letting out a myriad of low groans as I stretched and cracked my back while on my way to the bathroom. I stripped from my pajama bottoms and underwear the moment I entered my bathroom, moving to the shower and stepping inside as I turned on the shower, jolting as the cold water pelted on me. I gave a shiver as I stood under it for a bit to wake myself up before taking my shower.

Once I was clean, smelling nice, and my teeth and hair brushed, I moved to my closet, choosing a pair of light grey jeans and a plain white shirt, slipping on a pair of my trainers before heading downstairs while pushing my phone in my back pocket, twirling my keys mindlessly around on my other hand.

A knock on my front door had me pausing as I looked to the nearby clock on my microwave, seeing that the thirty-minute time limit Ripley gave me was up. I headed over to the front door, unlocking it and opening it to see Ripley stood on the other side, looking as handsome as always in a pair of dark jean shorts, a denim-colored t-shirt, dark blue trainers, and a pair of aviator shades resting atop his head.