Sub U

Chapter One-4

He studied her a moment and allowed himself a small smile.

“Nothing, baby. Abso-f*****g-lutely nothing.”

***

Dayton tapped his pen on his desk as he waited for someone to pick up. He wondered if the same woman would answer this time. He tried to picture what she looked like, and what kind of dress code the company required her to adhere to. Maybe all the female employees were clad in leather, and had to wear crotchless clothing so they could service the males any time, night or day. Maybe this cold b***h was on her hands and knees for some employee, taking in a high, hard one as Dayton waited for her to answer the phone. Maybe it was part of her job description. Talk about a way to ensure high employee morale. Well, for the males anyway…

He thought of Jan and how he’d inherited her as his secretary from his predecessor in the department. Oh, she was proficient at her job, but he may as well have June Cleaver sitting outside his office door ten hours a day. Not that June wasn’t hot in her own way. Maybe when Bobbie got home from this Sub U place she’d be obedient enough to dress in those little Cleaver housewife dresses, with pearls and spiky heels. Oh, and a little apron for when she was in the kitchen. Maybe he could get her to wear just the apron and the heels as soon as the help went home every night. He’d pretend she had messed up something in regard to running the home and she’d be taken over his knee repeatedly to learn a lesson or two about being a good housewife. He planned to let her know about many things she’d been doing improperly in their relationship, and she’d have to submit to his punishing hand on her ass until she changed her disobedient ways. His c**k bounced slightly.

“Yes?” the voice said, quietly.

The pen flew out of Dayton’s hand and skidded across his desk as he sat up ramrod straight in his chair.

“Yes?” Quiet Female Voice said again, this time not so quietly or patiently.

“Client number seven ninety-eight,” Dayton said.

“Please hold for a moment, sir,” Quiet Female Voice said, for once in a respectful tone.

Now that was more like it, he thought. That’s the way you treat a Sub U client. Maybe she’d gotten an anal attitude adjustment that morning by one of the males.

Sub U Client. He loved the sound of it.

Bobbie had told him under no uncertain terms before they’d gone to bed the night before that if he didn’t like having s*x with her, he could just stop. And, he could just think of all the hundreds of people who were to be invited to the wedding, all the plans that had been made, and all the deposits they’d surely lose if he wanted to pursue this dynamic-whatever thing, as she called it. Oh, and another thing, she’d added, he could be the one to explain to everyone why the wedding was off. Imagine that—no one ever having the slightest clue that there had been anything wrong between them. Think of their surprised faces, she’d reminded him, if she let it slip out that porn he’d seen in magazines was the real cause. Don’t ya’ think that would be an awful shame, Dayton? Magazines. She’d said the word as if it were the vilest curse to ever pass her lips.

He couldn’t believe he was going through with this, but it felt great to be in control. What was taking Travis so long?

“Good morning, my friend!”

“Travis, Dayton here,” he said.

“Good to hear from you! And so soon, I might add.

“I talked to Bobbie last night. It didn’t go well.”

“Really. I’m sorry to hear that.”

“The wedding’s on, but my needs are at the bottom of the list at this point.”

“I hear you, I hear you,” Travis said.

“So, what’s next?”

“Well, as I tell all our clients, I have to take your word that you did talk to her, and that you’re confident Sub U is the logical next step. Only you can decide that. Are we clear?”

“Yes, absolutely. But—”

“But?” Travis said.

“I don’t even know how this works. Do you come to me? Do I bring her to you? What, exactly, are you going to do to her? I mean, for her? I don’t even know enough to ask the right questions.”

“Of course, of course, my friend. That’s why we’ve divided the process into steps.”

“Do I even get to talk to anyone who has hired you? And are there any guarantees?”

“Never any guarantees in anything in life, Dayton. Wouldn’t you agree?”

“Yes, but—”

“And would you want people to be able to contact you about us in the future?”

“No, no, absolutely not.”

“You see, my friend, it’s all about privacy. Every way we protect ourselves is just one more way we protect you. You won’t ever know where we are, and so you’ll have to be comfortable with the fact that you won’t know where Bobbie is, either.”

“But what, exactly, are you going to do to her?”

“It depends on you. What do you want from her?”

“I want her to do what I tell her, for one.”

“You want her submission.”

“Yes, but—”

“What else?”

“Uh, the bedroom. The s*x, I mean.”

“Sure. That’s why the majority of the women are sent here. Go on,” Travis said.

“She won’t do anything…out of the ordinary. It’s all so —”

“I assume you want oral, vaginal, and anal like almost every man on the planet, and you want it to happen when you say it’s going to happen. Your s****l relationship is too vanilla for your tastes. Am I right?”

“How do you know all this?” Dayton asked.

“It’s my job, remember? What you want is no different than what most men want. Our clients, however, have the courage to ask for it, and the means to make sure it happens.”

Dayton felt a swell of pride. God but this guy was good at what he did.

“I assume money is no object?” Travis said.

“I was wondering about all that. If I have to ask, I can’t afford it, right?”

Travis laughed. “That’s about right, my friend.”

“So how do we start?”

“Can you be at Jolt o’ Java this Friday at three? The location by your office?” Travis asked.

“Wait,” Dayton said, sitting up straight in his chair. “How the hell do you know about that, or where my office is?”

“I told you last week that before this is over I would know a lot about you. We don’t accept just anyone into this program; in fact, we take great pride in our thoroughness. Surely you can understand why.”

So that was it. Of course. They’d obviously done their homework on him, and the knowledge of that caused a growing constriction in his chest. By now they no doubt had plenty of information to turn around and use on him if they wanted to. What had he gotten himself into? If anyone ever found out that he’d even for a nanosecond considered doing this to Bobbie, he’d be the laughingstock of everyone he knew. He saw himself being arrested for conspiracy of some sort, or much worse, and thrown in prison where he’d be forced to perform a lot more personal services for his cellmate than just his laundry. His name would be plastered all over the nightly news and the internet, no doubt broadcast as some sort of pervert who believed in turning women into slaves. The media would interview his previous girlfriends; he’d lose his job, his home, his…

“Whoa there, buddy. This is a two-way street, remember?”

“Yes, Travis.”

“You can still back out at this point, but once you pay us the first installment, there’s no turning back. Unless you decide to just walk away from the money, that is.”

“Right. I still have time to think about this,” Dayton said.

“Friday at three,” Travis said. “Sit as close to the back of the place as possible. Someone will drop off the information to your table. Do not, I repeat, do not attempt to ask questions, or even acknowledge the person. Am I making myself clear?”

“Yes. What information am I getting?” Dayton asked.

“All the information we’re willing to provide.”

“I understand,” Dayton said.

“Look it over, then call me when you’re ready to take the next step.”

“Call you. Yes,” Dayton said, feeling slightly sick to his stomach.

“Later, my friend.”

***

The rest of the week passed in a blur. Dayton knew he was distracted, inefficient, sheepish-looking, and pretty much worthless in most regards. It seemed no time had passed at all when, all of a sudden, it was two o’clock on Friday afternoon. He was trying to concentrate on a poorly written and convoluted market analysis some not-long-for-this-business-world intern had written for him, when he looked up at the wall clock and felt his stomach lurch. He felt sick; sick and guilty. Maybe he should just not show up—just put a stop to the whole bizarre plan and go back to the status quo with Bobbie. He knew she’d forgive him after a while for his out-to-lunch behavior recently, and things would naturally fall back into the normal routine as always. The same gravitational force he’d always hated would pull them right back where they’d been. Some universal director would yell “Places, everyone!” and he and Bobbie would scurry across the stage, smiling, and take their positions once again.

For the rest of their lives.

God, but this needed to be over with. The tension was going to eat a hole through his gut, and the extra scotch he was pouring in over the stomach acid every evening sure wasn’t helping matters. Then there was the pretending, of course. The stress of keeping up appearances kept him tired and shaky. Pretense had never been difficult for him to pull off in business, but never before had he decided to get involved in something that was no doubt entirely illegal. Or was it? He didn’t yet know enough about Sub U to determine what he was getting himself or Bobbie into, but that was supposed to be the whole point of being at Jolt O’ Java in less than an hour. He reminded himself that no money had changed hands, and he relaxed slightly. Travis had told him in their last phone call that he’d be receiving all the information he’d need today about Sub U. All the information Travis was willing to provide, that is. Well, did that ever sound ominous. There were just too many unanswered questions at this point.

Dayton picked up his cell phone and briefcase, pushed a few buttons on his desk phone to send all calls to voicemail, and headed toward the elevator. As he passed his secretary’s desk he said, “I have an appointment to take care of. I’ll be back shortly.”

Jan quickly glanced at his appointment schedule, looked at him curiously and asked, “Is there something I could help you with, sir?”

He shook his head and smiled as he turned to walk to the elevator.

Not in a million years.

***

Dayton pulled into the mini-mall parking lot, and as soon as his eyes saw the Jolt O’ Java sign he felt a wave of nausea. What he wouldn’t give for a scotch to calm his nerves. He looked at the clock in his car, and comforted himself with the knowledge that in less than three hours he would be home with a drink in one hand, and maybe a good cigar in the other.

He glanced at his watch, as he’d been doing all day. Someone in the car behind him honked. He looked in the rearview mirror, glanced down at the speedometer, and noticed he was coasting along at about six miles-per-hour, behaving like the heads-up-their-ass drivers he hated. He pressed down on the accelerator, turned sharply down the first row and easily found an empty parking space. What if the person who honked was the Sub U contact? He turned around and searched the parking lot to find the person. The guy had looked too young, though. But too young for what? Maybe being a messenger for Sub U was a kick-ass job for, say, a college student, in a weird sort of way.

He checked the time again. Eight minutes to go. He wondered if he was being watched as he sat there. He envisioned six men, all dressed in black, hiding behind buildings or positioned on the rooftops, talking on their walkie-talkies as they surveilled him. Surveilled. He loved that word.

Black Hawk One this is Red Sky Two we have the subject in our sights over.

Red Sky Two we copy over.

Damn, but this Sub U idea was going to destroy every nerve left in his body. He checked his pocket for his phone, grabbed his briefcase, and got out of the car. He pressed the button on his key fob to lock the door, froze when the loud beep-beep-beep called attention to himself, and checked around the parking lot for anyone who might be watching him.