Submitting to Her(52)

The doorbell sounded again. Zoey gestured at me, mouthing the words: "Go on, then!"

I opened the door. Well, perhaps I wouldn't get the chance to demonstrate my obedience to her much longer.

"Pizza, sir?"

I saw the flash of shock on the pizza delivery guy's face as the door swung open, and before he managed to force himself into a neutral expression. Was he obligated by the job to act blasé if a customer showed up in such a humiliating state? If he was, he should have got a bonus.

I tried to remain calm and casual as well, as though this wasn't a big deal for me, as though I was some kind of domestic naturist, like this happened all the time. Under my skin, I was horrified, of course, though after the initial thunderbolt of opening the door and registering my appearance, I started feeling it could have been worse. Had this been a female delivery person, perhaps the authorities would have been alerted.

Closing the door again, pizza in hand, I heard a giggle or two from Zoey's direction.

"You really do whatever I say, don't you Jones?"

"Of course, Ms Schoenberg."

She attempted a serious expression, and said: "You know, Jones, I'm feeling generous."

"You are, Ma'am?"

She picked the pizza box out of my hands, and turned to take it over to the couch opposite her huge television. "Yes, I think you're in line for another reward."

"I like rewards."

She smiled at me, and then looked at her watch. "For the next two hours," she said, "I want you to forget that I'm your boss, and treat me as your girlfriend."

I raised my eyebrows. I actually wasn't exactly sure what I was supposed to do. We'd done Ordinary Mode a number of times before, of course, but mainly that had been simply equality in conversation. I wasn't quite sure how to be Zoey's boyfriend. What did boyfriends do with girlfriends?

She patted the couch next to her, and held up a slice of pizza for me. "You think you can do that, Aide?"

My first name suddenly sounded strange in her voice.

"I... I... I guess so, Ma'am," I said, feeling a bit of an idiot.

She grinned, said: "You can start be calling me Zoey."





Chapter Twenty





It was like a first date.

We talked about trivial things, like what our favorite pizza was, what we liked to watch on TV. The fact that I had three older sisters.

Zoey was curious about me, and that was fine, but stripped of her position of power, suddenly she seemed so much younger than me. I began to understand a little of why once upon a time, I had felt aggrieved that she had been promoted above me.

Chatting with her over pizza certainly seemed to help us take our minds off the morning's scheduled meeting with our chief executive.

As an only child from an affluent conservative household in Annapolis, Zoey was interested in hearing of my being brought up by in small town Ohio, though from my point of view it wasn't the most fascinating of stories.

"Have you told your sisters about us yet?" she asked me, her use of the term 'us' proving strangely exhilarating, as her confirmation that we were a couple. I guess that was important to me after what had happened with Brandon.

"I don't talk to them as often as I should," I said. "They're all married with kids - they have busy, busy lives. Even when I do talk to them, I rarely get a word in edgeways."

"I bet they'd be interested, after all your one night stands," she said. "If I had siblings, I'd tell them all about you."

"You told your parents you're dating someone?"

Behind her glasses, Zoey's eyes flashed. "I wouldn't tell them until there was a ring on my finger," she said. "As far as they're concerned, I don't even know how to kiss a boy."

I'd say it probably took an hour or so before I started to really settled down into this new arrangement, and feel comfortable in no longer taking orders from her, not waiting for a question before speaking my mind.

"I suppose if we were really pretending I'm not in charge right now, you should have put some clothes on while we ate pizza," she said as I now polished off the last bite of the aforementioned Italian-American feast.

"I didn't even think about it," I said with a grin.

"I like it when you're naked," she said. Then she tilted her head and asked: "Do you really like it the way I treat you?"

"When you're being my boss?" I asked, and she nodded. "I love it."

"Why?"

I looked at her, and curiously, wasn't quite sure how to explain my love of her authority. It had all started off when I had been afraid for my job, and willing to do anything to keep it, even humiliate myself in front of this beautiful young woman. Then we'd both seemed to take to it like ducks to water, it was hard to pinpoint exactly why my new role being subservient to Zoey Schoenberg fit so well.