Charted Territory || BDSM

Chapter 9 ~ The Ladies

"I am taking you to my golf course for dinner, so plan to dress more formally. I will turn up at your flat at 5:30 and we will get ready there, my love." 

The first thing I notice about Cameron's first text message to me after my "yes" to our new lifestyle is the lack of a proposal. Perhaps he's already comfortable in his role as the master of all decision-making for us. 

Rapidly, I wipe down the counters and tuck in all edges and things in my apartment that look out of place. He only saw it last night but between the time I had spent in here last night and this morning, there remains to be some loose ends that need tying. My silver-spoon boyfriend is a perfectionist, after all.

Just when he said he would, Cameron arrives in his athletic wear as he had been to the gym after his work day. I am left mesmerized by his body in his tight shirt even more than before when he stepped through my doorway.

I smile and gasp, "Look at you, Daddy!" 

He laughs aloud, "You're not the first girl to call me that." 

We take our space from one another as we get ready. I touch up my makeup and refresh my curls with a spray bottle of water. I spritz on a more expensive perfume for the night and slide into a tight Perrywinkle dress that flatters my curves more than any other dress I own.

I find him adjusting his black tie, standing confidently in a silvery blue suit as I step out, ready for the evening. His eyes trail over to me after paying great attention to his own appearance.

He cocks his head and his bronze hair swings to the side, "Oh, darling, you look beautiful. Blue is definitely your color. But please consider wearing something different."

"Excuse me?" I freeze and stare at him in disbelief. 

It's only ten hours into agreeing to be his submissive and he is already giving orders?

Not to mention, orders I will refuse to comply with.

Cameron sighs and walks right past me in the direction of my bedroom. He speaks icily, "You heard me. This is a classy restaurant and I do not want you to be dress-coded by the staff."

I furrow my brows and grab his wrist to show him the leg I am holding up, "It goes to my knee. I can wear a jacket overtop if it makes you feel better."

He yanks his wrist out of my grip but takes my hand back to my closet and starts searching my wardrobe without even asking, "I know their dress code better than anybody."

"Cameron, this is insane," I let go of his hand to stand behind him. He does not seem to hear me nor does he care.

"Why don't you wear this with a modest top?" he pulls out a pencil skirt I wear to work.

"Pencil skirt for a night out? This is nuts!" I exclaim. "Besides, you can't tell me what to wear."

My determination causes him to fumble over his words, "Sorry, but, can you agree to help me out just this once?"

"Help you out?!"

His face turns to a look of defeat, "Wear this outfit of my choosing this once and I'll never say anything about your clothes again."

We have a stare-off for at least a full minute. It is only after he puts his hands on his hips like a strict disciplinarian would that I realize that the man cannot be convinced.