Protege Mistress

By Gregory Allen

Kevin wins a chance to give a foot massage to his secret crush, Diane, when he loses a card game. He brings a beer into her living room to find Diane, who is a stickler about coasters, has set his on the floor. He kneels in front of her and pays up on his bet. After her massage, Diane gets Kevin to admit that he was hoping for a kiss. She offers her feet, and while he is passionately kissing them he is treated to the sight of Diane pleasuring herself.

Diane is Kevin’s manager at the pizza shop and after proving himself so useful, she promotes him to Manager’s Little Helper. She includes Monica, another driver, in their celebration of his promotion, and Kevin soon learns Monica isn’t simply aware of Diane’s power over him; she encouraged Diane to claim it. Both women have Kevin hustling around the pizza shop to make their jobs easier. They initiate a demerit system, where either of them can assign demerits for his failings. Monica piles them on.

Monica has a party with Diane and a couple new friends, and Kevin is locked in the closet. He is the surprise waiter! He serves the ladies drinks and appetizers, and acts as a coffee table when they put up their feet. Monica has devised a cruel game where Kevin has to scamper across the floor for a ball and bring it to the feet of a lady

Years pass, and Diane runs into Monica. The two of them have coffee, and Diane discovers that the incredibly powerful looking Monica is a bona fide dominatrix. Catching Monica up on her life, Diane shyly admits that she married Kevin, from the pizza shop. Monica sounds surprisingly pleased, but when Diane divulges that their marriage is a little bland, Monica arranges to show up for a visit.

Kevin, thoroughly shocked to see Monica again, grudgingly does as he’s told when Monica informs him that he has not been pleasing his wife. Over the course of the next few weeks Monica gives explicit instructions on exactly what Kevin is to do to make amends with his wife, and visits once a week to make sure he’s followed through. A massive change happens to Kevin & Diane’s marriage with the help of the feisty dominatrix.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Pink Flamingo Media LLC
• Release date: Nov 8, 2013
• ISBN: 9781935897781

Gregory Allen

Gregory Allen Author BioGregory Allen writes female domination novels for hopeful romantics. He is the author of the erotic romance novels, Courting Her and Protégé Mistress, available in print and as Ebooks, both published by Pink Flamingo. His novelette, Bottoms in Love, is available as an Ebook and published by OC Press. Gregory Allen can be found on facebook and fetlife, often discussing his favorite fetish: writing. His resolution for the new year is to keep up regularly with his blog, which can be found here: http://courtingherbygregoryallen.blogspot.com/Please be sure to check out Gregory's other titles at www.pinkflamingo.com!

Book preview

Protégé Mistress

by Gregory Allen

ISBN 13: 978-1-935897-78-1

A Pink Flamingo Ebook Publication

Copyright © 2011, All rights reserved

Smashwords Edition

Chapter One

Coaster on the Floor

Her promotion to shift manager entitled Diane to wear black pants while Kevin and the rest of the drivers were required to wear jeans. Hard at work in her washed-out-green shirt with sleeves to her elbows, her hair tied up and tucked under the baseball cap all the workers wore, Diane could not have done less to exude femininity, but Kevin still found it. Whether he viewed her making pizzas from the side while he scrubbed grease from the deep dish pans and admired her extended arms, hands deftly spreading cheese and olives and sausages over dough covered in pools of sauce, or stared, while he was taking orders on the phone, at her ass, as she sidled the length of the pizza-making counter, he longed to be near her. He craved the intimacy the pizza shop gave them. He would sometimes stare at her behind with a clinical reverence, analyzing what it could be about the way her curves pressed out from those black pants, dotted with flour handprints—her over-sized shirt pulled out and hanging over a hip—that made it so enticing. He felt guiltless eyeing her; his appreciation of her beauty felt so genuine.

He truly admired her, was a large part of it. The two of them had started working at around the same time, both as drivers. While he spent the summer folding pizza boxes and keeping up on the dishes, waiting for deliveries, she had gotten the owner to train her on every aspect of running the pizza shop, and earned her promotion. He didn’t have that kind of initiative. In fact, he didn’t learn to answer the phones until his first shift under her supervision.

While they had both been drivers, they had a few friendly exchanges, but when she called him to the phone, Kevin noticed immediately her new managerial tone. Kevin, come over here. She smiled, kindly. I’m going to have you answer phones between deliveries, in addition to your other duties.

Okay, sure. He felt himself blushing. He was pretty sure Diane suspected his crush. He couldn’t imagine a woman as beautiful as her didn’t suspect every man developed some level of infatuation with her. He hoped she didn’t know the extent of his.

Kevin had been kicking himself for not asking her out when he had the chance. The store had a strict policy against managers dating the hourly employees. His berating himself, he knew, was an absurd façade. He wasn’t really fooling himself. He wouldn’t have asked out a beautiful woman like Diane in a million years. He was shy enough with women in his own league. He felt satisfied with work-related conversation and the occasional exchange of personal, friendly anecdotes.

Diane instructed him on how to take orders over the phone, gave him a script to memorize, then went to make pizzas. She returned after several minutes and tested him. She leaned against the counter and played the part of customers placing orders. She made him hold the phone to his ear, as if each were a real call. Kevin, grinning awkwardly, did as he was told. He punched the orders into the computer, without firing them into the system, as she watched and corrected his mistakes. He found her rather impatient with his progress after a few minutes, and he was surprised to find himself feeling ashamed of his frequent blunders. Once he got it down, though, she praised him. Very good. Now you’re ready to take real calls, all by yourself.

Kevin knew his enjoyment of her praise showed all over his face.

The hang out after work was the bowling alley across the street. Kevin always started the evening when he joined everyone—anytime he specifically heard Diane would be there and other nights when he felt like hoping she would drop by—intent as hell on getting on the list for a game of pool. There were only two tables in the back corner and the cover was perfect. He could sit and enjoy the wait near Diane, listening to her unwind by talking, usually to Monica or one of the other drivers, and only occasionally have to abandon her to play his turn at pool, maintaining the deception. Luckily, Diane never came around and watched. She might have grown suspicious seeing him shoot. For a supposed pool fiend, he couldn’t sink a ball to save his life.

After a couple hours, one night, a bunch of the other drivers decided to go bowl. Kevin prepared to surrender his pool game to join them, but when Diane and Monica and Beth all declined, he used his pool game as an excuse to remain at the table. Soon after, Beth and Monica were lured away by a regular at the bar top that Beth had been making eyes at for several weeks. They tried to tug Diane along, but there was no moving her, and Kevin and Diane were alone. Kevin looked up at the board where his name steadily rose.

Why don’t you sit over here? Diane patted the booth next to her. You’re always sitting so far away, waiting for your pool games. She grinned and sipped from her drink. She sat leaned back, and as Kevin rose from his chair he saw her legs splayed out under the table on the chair cattycorner to her. Kevin sat a foot farther away than where she had patted the booth. She seemed to notice and smirk, but Kevin decided it was his imagination.

Do you know what I heard, she said, and this might interest you. I heard a juicy piece of gossip. I heard someone at work has a huge crush on someone else.

A crush? Kevin felt the temperature rise several degrees. Diane leaned forward and looked back as though trying to catch his face in the best lighting, gauging his reaction. Kevin took a swig from his beer and avoided her eyes.

Oh, a huge one, Diane said, leaning back again. It’s obvious to everyone, apparently. Everyone can tell. They say he—it’s a boy who has the crush—is always watching her and hanging around her, but he’s very shy, they say. They say he’s hardly done a thing about it except to be very helpful to her.

Kevin felt a fount of humiliation spread outward from his core. Diane was so clearly calling him out. She couldn’t have been talking about anyone but him. He wouldn’t have been surprised to learn she had suspicions, but her certainty, the idea of everyone knowing and being amused at his desperation to be near her, he should have felt like fleeing the bowling hall and never returning to work. Instead he remained, the heat of blush not leaving but evening over all his skin, through all his body. He felt a mild, pleasant buzz. Are you going to say who? he said.

Diane grinned, her mouth open. He thought she was going to tell him she knew about his infatuation, he almost hoped she would. He feared he would confess if necessary to maintain the euphoria he felt under her flirtatious teasing, her slight taunting. Under the vulnerability of her playing with his secret.

She grabbed a deck of cards from the center of the table. Let’s play. She shuffled the cards in her hands a few times, then set them in two piles on the table, and riffled them. Do you have a girlfriend?

No.

No girlfriend? You’re so cute, though.

No girlfriend, right now. I’m really busy.

The smirk passed over her face again. The twinkle in her eye permeated the dim bar. What should we play for? We have to play for something.

She finished her shuffle and dealt out three cards to him and three to her. She set the remaining pile between them on the table and flipped over the first card, the starting arrangement for the regular bowling alley card game of 31. She laid her hand on Kevin’s over his cards, not allowing him to pick them up.

Before you look.

Kevin glanced down at their hands, layered together. He quickly looked up again, but the image blazed in his periphery. The coolness of her touch drove a pulsing heat through his body.

What do you want?

She withdrew her hand. I want a foot massage. My feet ache after a long shift, literally ache. That’s what I want, a foot massage. What do you want?

Kevin wanted, of course, a kiss. What else would a man want from a woman he had a wild crush on? And she began with physical intimacy as the stakes. Under any other circumstances, he would have said it, but she was his boss and partly out of discretion, partly using this as an excuse, he said, Five bucks?

Diane groaned and picked up her cards. All you drivers care about is money. Terrible, terrible, terrible. It’s a progressive disease, it really is. You go first.

Kevin drew a six, which gave him a matching diamond with his queen. He discarded his five of spades. The object was to get as close to 31 as possible. Any player could knock the table at any time and end the game. An ace with two face cards or the ten of the same suit was the best possible hand, scoring 31. Three of a kind scored thirty and a half points. Going for three of a kind was risky, though, because if your opponent knocked, you were sure to lose. Kevin always went for suited cards and rarely knocked, worried his opponent held higher suited cards.

Best of five? Diane said.

Sure.

Diane knocked after a few rounds. She grinned over her fanned out cards. Kevin held only two diamonds for a total of seventeen points but he got one more draw. He picked up a diamond but only a five. Twenty-two, he said, turning them face up.

Twenty-four. Diane smacked her cards on the table.

You knocked with that?

Diane nodded, grinning. Oh, a foot massage is going to feel sooooo good.

That’s only one. Kevin was amazed his voice sounded clear. His slight buzz from drinking had evaporated in the midst of the anxiousness coursing through him. He didn’t know if he was more worried about giving her the foot massage or of not receiving the honor. He certainly wasn’t thinking about the five bucks.

The second game Kevin was dealt three clubs, but for a score of only twenty-three. He probably should have knocked right away, but once he waited, he had to improve. He drew and discarded several times but couldn’t get another club. Diane kept drawing and discarding, looks of mild disgust passing over her. The deck was nearly gone, then she drew and beamed. Kevin knew he was in trouble. He drew again and improved to twenty-five, but the way Diane knocked following, he knew she had him. He had one final draw and pulled another diamond, giving him twenty-nine. He felt hopeful and waited for Diane to show. She slowly turned over three sevens.

Oh, man. I should have known you were going for that. I could have knocked at any time. I was dealt twenty-two.

You had twenty-two on the deal and didn’t knock? You got to take a chance, if you want to win.

The ‘if you want to win’ seemed to linger. He knew she hadn’t meant it that way, she hadn’t meant that she suspected he was throwing the match so he could massage her feet, but he wasn’t too sure she didn’t suspect it in the quiet that followed.

She picked the cards up and started shuffling. Do you really like pool?

I play enough, don’t I?

Yeah.

Why do you ask?

Something Monica said had me wondering.

What?

Nothing. Never mind. You better focus if you expect to mount a comeback. I’m up two games to zero. Diane finished shuffling and casually dealt. Kevin picked up each card as he received it and pensively looked: a two of diamonds, a six of spades, and a two of clubs. He rolled his eyes when he saw the second two. A terrible hand. Unless he picked up a miracle two, he was in trouble. He drew a four of spades. Thought about it, but folded one of his twos and kept the matched suits. He looked up. Diane grinned, her hand formed into a fist and poised above the table.

No, Kevin said. Her knuckles rapped against the wood. You dealt yourself a good hand?

Good enough, Diane said. I was watching your face while you looked at yours. You totally gave yourself away. I know I’ve got you beat.

Kevin pinched a card from the top of the deck. The ace of spades would give him twenty-one. It was his only chance. He drew another two. Diane burst out laughing. She turned her cards face up, a nine and an eight of diamonds with a four of hearts. Seventeen good enough?

Seventeen? You knocked with that? I would have had three twos, but I discarded one.

Awww, poor thing. I told you to take a chance. Diane leaned back in the booth. She stretched her legs under the table and bumped Kevin’s shoes with hers. No five bucks for you. And what did I win? I forget.

A foot massage.

Oh, that’s right. A foot massage. Oh, that sounds wonderful.

Kevin managed to meet her eyes. He tried to casually smile. You’re going to gloat?

Diane leaned over the table, placing her face close to his and grinning. Of course I am. That’s half the fun. You are paying up, aren’t you?

I pay my debts.

Diane looked around. Several people from the pizza shop were still hanging around, including Monica up at the bar top with Beth. Kevin worried people were sure to return as soon as he started. He wasn’t looking forward to the embarrassment, but he certainly wanted to show Diane he was honorable. Tell you what, Diane said, I’ll be nice. I won’t make you do it in front of everyone. Why don’t you wait a few minutes then come outside and follow me to my apartment?

Kevin averted his eyes as Diane walked over to say goodbye to Monica. Diane passed behind him. He kept looking at the board for the pool game, though his name had been long ago passed over. After waiting a safe period of time, he nonchalantly walked out. A pair of headlights crept up behind him and stopped when he got to his car. What took so long? Are we secret agents, now?

I thought you said to wait a few minutes?

You’re so cute. Come on. Diane’s window slid up and she drove past. Kevin hurried into his car, started it up, and got behind her at the parking lot exit. He could hardly believe how the night was progressing. An hour ago he was swept up in anonymous love, now—almost by magic—he was headed to spend the night with the object of his devotion. He eyed the movements of her head through her rear window. He worried the ride in separate cars would give her a chance to change her mind, but she parked and got out in front of an apartment building and directed him to a section of available parking.

She seemed to have grown a touch shy as he had feared, but her smile contained an encouraging flirtation. She hurried ahead of him and he followed to where she waited, the door to her building held open behind her. She bounded ahead again, and Kevin had to hurry to catch the door and find her rounding a corner inside. Her cute butt through her pizza manager pants—the same one he’d been admiring for months at work—disappeared from view. He caught her waiting for the elevator, and she blushed and hid her face in the corner.

The doors opened and they both stepped on.

She faced him. We can never date, you know. I signed a contract when I became a manager. It’s against the rules for me to date people under me.

So what am I doing here?

We can be friends. There’s no rule against that. Besides, you have to pay up.

The elevator opened to a dimly lit hall with the musty, vague smell of a motel, but stepping into Diane’s room was like crossing a portal into an enchanted world by comparison. The place was immaculate. The same grayish carpet as the hall was so clean it glowed. A