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Chapter 15
Well, this was not how I expected claiming Emily to go, Dalton thought as he stared down the hallway at Master Derek's retreating form. Unconventional methods indeed.
“You said you wanted her,” Derek had told him the instant they were both alone in the hall. “This is part of having a submissive of your own. You take the good and the bad together. If you can’t handle her at her most vulnerable worst, then you don’t deserve her and you’re too good of a writer in the kink genre not to already know that. So handle it.”
And with that, Derek left and Dalton could only watch him go, knowing he was right.
Telling himself that all he had to do was play his cards right, and the end would justify the means, he stepped back into Emily's room, closed the door, and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood in front of it.
"Pack a bag," he instructed. "With anything you'll need for the next several days."
"I'm sorry? Where's Master Derek?"
"He left. Important ranch business to attend to. He's a busy man."
"What?" she repeated, and Dalton could tell she was shocked by his abrupt departure after his surprising edict. He could sympathize, but he knew that Derek was right. Whatever this was, if Emily was truly his serendipitous destiny as he had claimed, he would be able to handle it. He would figure out a way.
"Pack a bag," he repeated. “Unless you want to spend the next five days naked again?"
That threat spurred her into action. Reaching under her bed, she pulled out a bookbag and stormed across the room. Drawers flung open and slammed shut as clothing and other items were shoved haphazardly into the knapsack. When it was crammed full, she zipped it shut and stomped over to where I stood.
"I'm ready,” she announced, with her tone full of defiance that he pointedly ignored.
"Good. Let's go then. You know the way to my room. Keep up."
It wasn't a long walk from her room to his, at the opposite end of the hall. It was his understanding that there were plans to add submissive suites to the college building in the future, but for now, according to Derek, there were only a dozen or so service subs living at the Ranch, and each floor had a suite at the far end with two submissives sharing a living space and two attached private bedrooms.
As they walked, Emily seemed to deflate. After a while, her stomps became steps, and her rigid spine slouched. While he had no idea what had spurred the adrenaline rush that she had obviously experienced when she slapped him, he could tell it had passed. Still, she seemed determined to keep up the front.
When they reached his room, he opened the door and she dropped her overstuffed knapsack on the floor. She shuffled over to his bed, pulled her pajama bottoms down to her knees then bent over the side, like she was waiting for a spanking.
"Is this fine?" she asked, her voice dull, "or did you want to tie me up again? And when you're spanking me, do I call you Professor, or Daddy or Master? Perhaps you want me to get on my knees, lick your boots and beg you to abuse me?"
Okay, so he was wrong. Her body had deflated, but her rage and attitude had only grown. He had no idea what had gotten into her and it didn't seem like he would get anywhere soon if he tried to find out.
Without answering any of her questions, he crossed the room, stood behind her and slowly pulled her pajama bottoms up. "I'm not sure what's gotten into you, but for right now, my preference is that you don't speak to me until you think you can manage to do so without attacking me. And the only thing you are getting right now is a nap."
Straightening, she glared at him with a guarded expression. "I'm not sleeping in your bed and I'm definitely not sleeping in a cage either. "
He noticed she wasn't arguing with him about the sleeping part, just about where she was going to do it. That was a good sign.
Chuckling, he waved his arm in front of him, gesturing around the room. "Do you even see a cage?" The cage had been a special request that had been returned to the hotel equipment rental after their time together was over. Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed a pillow and blanket off of his bed and tossed them on the small couch. "I don't care where you sleep. But you are being quite rude and insufferable at the moment, which only makes it that much clearer how badly you need a nap. Open your mouth again to insult or argue with me, I will put you over my knee, put blisters on top of every one of those bruises, and then you'll take a nap. Choose wisely."
To his relief, she clamped her lips together. Dramatically flopping onto the couch, she pulled the blanket over her head and ignored him.
"Good," he told her. "I'm kind of having a shit day and your piss poor attitude is the last thing I need right now."
As soon as he said it, he felt guilty for goading her and prayed she wouldn't respond.
To his relief, she didn't. Shaking his head at the crazy turn his day had taken, he climbed on his sheet-clad bed, leaned against the headboard, and pulled his phone out of his pocket.
With one eye on the lump of blanket that was Emily, he shot off a quick text to Alan.
Something came up. Need more time. Write up a statement and I'll let you know when I'm ready to release it. For now, give just enough info to keep the hounds at bay. Don't schedule any interviews but keep a list of who requests them. Let's see how big this gets before we decide what to do. I'll call you in a few days.
He then wrote a chapter on his latest book, a quick and dirty, daddy Dom age play that took place in an institution that reminded him of the ranch in some ways. Spanking the bratty heroine and putting her in her place on paper allowed him to work out some of the dominant aggression he was feeling toward Emily. It also cleared his head enough to plan how he was going to deal with her.
When he closed the computer, she was snoring softly, and he knew what he needed to do. Moving as slowly and quietly as possible he tiptoed out of the room and down to the gift shop. He had supplies to get.
