Anyone for Tennis, Menace, Dennis?
By Nikki Kernovii
Chapter 9 - Where do we go from here? Is this the way that's clear?
A pleasant evening.
With No Sex.
How Strange.
Remy knocked on my front door while I was still rushing to finish getting dressed and applying make-up.
It had been a very busy day at work. For the early part of the week I was tense due to the beating I had taken at the weekend. My back, bottom and legs were still so sensitive that sitting and even touching anything would cause me to jump.
And get hot.
I had a lot of work to catch up on.
Finally I had rushed home, showered and then spent too long worrying about what to wear.
I still had the latex dildo panties, which Denis had bought me a few weeks earlier. I thought about wearing them.
Dennis liked me to not wear any underwear at all. And, as I now also found that exciting, I thought about doing that.
Then I worried about what sort of restaurant he would be taking me too and worried about what might be acceptable.
I decided to play it safe and wear a pair of sexy but safe knickers.
With a rush, I grabbed my handbag and hustled out the door to follow Remy to the car.
Dennis was sitting waiting. He looked magnificent. He wore a black silk shirt, and as usual, you could cut trees down with the sharp crease of his trousers. I could see myself reflected in the shine of his shoes.
A year or so back someone like that might have been called a spiv. But Dennis was not. He was sharp and elegant. But he was not a spiv.
He even smelled sexy.
I sat next to him and cuddled close.
He even put his arm around me pulling me closer.
"How is my little one? You have recovered from my party?"
"Just about." I said. "Still a few bruises. A bit tender."
"I am sorry. Some of the guest were... enthusiastic?" He sounded genuinely sorry. "I was not able to talk after. My party, it is for people. Business people. You remember Mr Armstrong."
"I do. Arsehole. What a rude thug." I grumped.
Dennis chuckled. "This is true. C'est Un criminal."
"A crook?"
"Oui. A Crook. He was not at the party. But colleagues. Business Partners, Friends of him. They were there. They come to talk. They come to find a weakness. They come to find opportunities. For these it is about money and power." He seemed lost in thought for a while. "But I must find things."
"Ahh But tonight you are not my 'Little-One' This is a term used for...the Soumise. The ahhh...
"Remy. Quel est le mot anglais pour soumise?" he said
"Submissive. " Remy said over her shoulder from the front seat.
"Oui. Of course. This is used for submissive. As you are. Tonight you are not. You must speak as equal. WE must talk."
"Why?" I was genuinely pleased but confused. Yes. I wanted for us to talk. And I had sort of understood why he called me 'Little-One.' It was not just that I was five foot six and he was over six foot. I was his 'Little one'
"Business is ... Complicated." He said.
By then we had arrived in town and stopped outside the restaurant.
It was one I was vaguely aware of, but had never dared to venture inside. Well outside my pay grade. My parents, even when they had still been together, never had much spare cash to waste on fancy nights out. And none of my pathetic boyfriends had ever been generous enough to take me to it.
Nice.
But.
I felt outside my comfort zone. Again.
I was a simple girl. A night out was a pizza or a pub.
'Best Behaviour girl.' I told myself.
"Remy. Veuillez garer la voiture puis nous rejoindre."
"Oui Monsieur Dennis." Remy nodded as she closed the car door behind us.
The Maitre-D or whatever he was, bowed and led us to the sumptuous sofa in the waiting area. As we sat, a waiter handed us small glasses of some sweet and sour flavoured red stuff.
"What is it?" I whispered to Dennis.
"Aperitifs. To stimulate the digestion." He replied, sipping at his own glass.
The waiter returned a moment later with two huge, fancy, menus.
"Merci." Dennis took the menus.
Then caught himself. "Non. You should choose. For tonight."
I took one look at the menu and felt out of my depth again. I could not translate the English into English, never mind the French.
"I... I don't know." I said, blushing. "I've never been here. What is best?"I whispered.
Dennis looked towards the man in the penguin suit, who was hovering nearby.
"Deux cassoulet de pétoncles et calamars, suivi par, deux Épaule d'agneau mijotée. Pas de premier cours, juste Bourguignon végétarien pour mon ami. Elle sera là dans un instant. Et une bouteille de votre St Emillion, Chateau Canon Grand Cru deux mille trois." Dennis said.
I have no idea what any of that meant. It was like he was talking French!
"Comme vous le souhaitez Monsieur. Nous serons prêts dans une vingtaine de minutes." The Tails flapped as he took the menus, bowed and left us alone.
"You will like. We have Cassoulet of scallops and squid with truffle, then slow cooked shoulder of Lamb. It is good. Very good." He said turning to me.
"Thanks." And perhaps good. I liked lamb, though I didn't get to have much very often. I had no idea what all the rest was.
Just then Remy arrived.
She sat, still upright and on duty.
Dennis gestured towards a spare glass of the Aperitif for Remy. She picked the glass up and sipped delicately.
"Remy, please to tell Julie our story. What we find at Anton. You know the story. Your English it is better."
"Ahh Yes." Remy seemed to relax a bit. She took another long sip at her drink. "Julie, you remember the leather specialist, Anton?"
"Yes. Didn't like him much." I muttered. I had another taste of my 'Aperitif'. It was sweet and tasted herbal. Not unpleasant. Strange. And it did slide down the throat.
"Anton is a bit strange. But he is very good at what he does. His main business is indeed leather fashion goods." Remy continued. "But his main profit is the more exotic things he can make." She looked directly at me. "I understand that you have visited the err... Mr Dennis's special bench."
"Oh That. Yes. Yes I have seen it." I said.
Seen it. Been on it. Been to heaven and back on it. on it. Oh yes I had seen it alright. I got hot just thinking about the times I had SEEN that bench.
"This was a design by Mr Dennis but made by Anton and a nearby wood worker friend. He makes such things. When Mr Dennis was there recently, Anton mentioned a man. He gave no name. The man paid in cash. He wanted some very special items. Quite extreme items. He had a girl with him. She was bound and gagged. This is not so unusual. It is a place for such special tastes. But it is not common. However Anton said that the girl looked like she had been crying. Anton did not know who they were, but he was worried. Not worried enough to go to the Police, of course. Because that would raise some very awkward questions. But worried enough to mention this to some of his clients. Just in case. So Anton described them to Mr Dennis. The man sounds like Armstrong and the girl described sounds like Alice, a girl that Mr Dennis once knew.
"You must realise," Remy Continued, "that you are not the first person to use the special bench. I helped Mr Dennis to carry it up to that room when it arrived. And so I know that Alice was the first. As Mr Dennis describes it, she was almost insatiable in seeking pain." She paused in thought.
"Mr Dennis is a Sadist. In a way. I know that he gets great pleasure from inflicting certain types of pain. I have known him a very long time. I have worked for him a long time. I know him. He found Alice almost scary in her desire for pain. She did not stay as his err... His submissive for long. I think Mr Dennis asked her something or mentioned something. I am not sure. But she suddenly disappeared. No-one in the area has seen or heard from her since. We think she is now with Armstrong. However, from what Anton described, we are not convinced that she is there willingly." Remy sipped her Aperitif.
"So after the visit to Anton, Mr Dennis arranged his party. He had wanted a party of some sort to say a 'Thank you' to some friends and former customers. He wanted also to tempt a few business colleagues, who he hoped also knew Armstrong. The music was JUST loud enough that the guests could talk if close. This was also important. This is what happened. Dennis talked and whispered and got the other errm... Masters. Dominants. To do the same. I was outside with the drivers and minders and such. We have a small meeting room by the garage.
"I did the same out there. Perhaps it is easier for me, as I am probably the only woman driver and fixer. All the rest are men. It is not so difficult to tease information out of these sorts of men." She chuckled. I liked her smile. I thought she was quite pretty in a subdued, angular, sort of way. But she did have a lovely smile.
"We heard enough to be fairly sure that Alice is with Armstrong, but we think, not willingly. And that he is not exactly a Dominant in the same way as Mr Dennis and the others you met at the party."
Remy paused in thought again. She looked towards Dennis who nodded, as if bidding her to continue.
"Mr Dennis is concerned. We think we need a plan to help. But obviously this is very difficult."
Remy sighed. Dennis put his hand up.
"Enough. This is my apology." He said.
Remy nodded, then continued. "This dinner tonight is a way for Mr Dennis to talk to you. To thank you for your help. I think he wants to apologise for the way you got treated. I think it was a bit beyond what he was expecting."
"Gods. No Need to apologise. It was amazing. I came my head off. And Emma was also amazing actually." I blushed when I realised what I had just said. My mouth on automatic again.
"Sorry." I said quickly. "A bit too graphic." Then I looked up at Dennis's smile. I melted again.
"It was alright. I enjoyed it." I said quietly. I put my hand in his.
"We understand." Remy said. "But Mr Dennis still wants you to enjoy tonight with no strings attached. He is ... Hmmm I think you have an English phrase a 'Control Freak?' Mr Dennis is a control freak. He likes, and always has liked, being in total control. Of Everything. That was part of what made his business so successful. And why I enjoyed, do still enjoy, working for him. Part of his pleasure with you, and the girls before you." Remy stopped when she saw me blush. "I am sorry Julie, but you must realise that there have been others. I think Mr Dennis does see you as special. He really likes you. But most of all he likes control. He enjoys the training. The Discipline. But I digress. He is trying his best NOT to be in control tonight. He wants you to enjoy tonight. You are not under his control. Just enjoy it. Also... You may ask questions that may not always be asked when you are otherwise together. He... We - will try to answer them."
I was confused. Stunned. Worried. Confused. What I really wanted right then. Even in that restaurant was for Dennis to put me over his lap and spank me hard. Something to put the order and perspective back into my head. The world was so much simpler when I was being spanked.
"Life is so much simpler when I am being spanked." I muttered, before I realised that I had spoken my thoughts out loud. I looked up guiltily and blushed again.
Remy smiled at me and looked towards Dennis. He too was smiling. And Nodding. He understood. He did understand.
Just then the penguin came to announce that our table was ready.
Dennis stood, took my hand and led me through the arch to the main restaurant. There were perhaps a dozen or so tables in little alcoves. The place looked expensive. Every little detail looked expensive.
A waiter pulled my chair out and helped me to sit. He did the same for Remy. Dennis ushered him away and sat.
I just looked at Dennis and Remy and tried to copy what they were doing.
I took my fancy, folded, serviette from my wine glass. Flapped it, placed it over my lap.
The table was already set out with mountains of steaming food. And the smell was a full frontal assault.
The man in the penguin suit poured a little wine into Dennis's glass.
Dennis swirled it. Sipped and sucked at it.
