The Bondage Catering

Part 1 of 3: The Mutual Acquaintance

The letter was a blessing.

She could barely hold back the tears. Emily was fresh from culinary school and her new catering business was off to a rough start. She stood in her small apartment and reviewed every word of the handwritten letter.

Dear Emily,

I hope this letter finds you. Forgive me, but I don't use email. And I generally don't like phones. I'm old fashioned.

I'm an acquaintance of your mother. We met briefly at a mutual friend's party several weeks ago. Your mother casually mentioned your catering business a few times. I thought about it, and it sounds interesting. I've never hired a caterer before.

If you're interested in a new client, contact me, and maybe we can work out an arrangement. I'm a terrible cook. I hear you're good.

best wishes & good luck with your business,

John

Finally, she thought. Good luck was starting to come her way.

***

A week later. Emily drove through the rich neighborhood in her old beat-up car. She stood out sorely, but she didn't care. She was just happy to be in the neighborhood for potential work.

She parked in the driveway of the proper address. She had no idea what John looked like. Their only interaction was a brief phone call to arrange the meeting.

Emily knocked on the door. An old black woman answered. The woman wore a maid's outfit. The woman oddly remained quiet as they looked at each other.

"Hi," Emily said awkwardly. "I'm here to see John."

The old black woman nodded. "Right this way."

Emily entered, and the maid closed the door. The maid led her up the stairs of the fairly large home. Emily looked around with envious eyes. Everything was old, dark, and rustic. Antiques were everywhere. Classic paintings were displayed on the walls.

They went down the hall and the maid opened the door after knocking first. Emily entered, then the maid left.

It was an office room. John sat behind his desk working. He was a handsome man in his late 40's. He had a stone face which was impossible to read. His face was made for poker. His face remained expressionless.

"Please, have a seat," he said.

Emily was intimidated by his presence, and by her own lack of business experience. She had never closed a deal before. She sat down in front of his desk.

"You must be new to this line of work," he said.

"Why do you say that?"

"I could sense your nervousness a mile away. You should try relaxing. It helps."

She cracked an awkward smile. "I'll keep that in mind."

"Okay. Now tell me about your catering business."

"Well, it's still fairly new," she said after some thought. "I can prepare meals to accommodate your specific preferences. If you need catering for a party, I can hire extra people. I have plenty of friends from culinary school."

"That won't be necessary. I actually prefer that you work alone. There's less hassle that way."

Emily nodded. "I'm assuming you live alone and you want me to prepare your meals."

"Very astute."

"Did you have a specific arrangement in mind?"

"That depends," John replied. "Are you busy?"

She gave an embarrassed smile. "Kind of the opposite. You're my first real customer. I've done small things here and there. Mostly for my mom's friends who were doing me a favor."

"Would you like some free business advice? Never reveal your weakness. It doesn't sound good."

"Oh, right. I'll remember that."

"As for an arrangement," John replied. "Would you be able to prepare my meals for me? Lunch and dinner."

"Sure. That won't be a problem."

"Excellent. I'd like the meals delivered to my home at 11:30 am sharp. Monday through Friday."

"Got it," she nodded.

"This arrangement will likely last for the next several months. Either of us have the option to cancel the deal at any time. Understood?"

"Yes, I understand."

"Excellent."

"Do you have any preferences for the meals?" Emily asked. "My specialties include French, Italian, and different styles of Asian..."

He shook his head. "Doesn't matter. Just bring it on time."

"Okay."

"Now let's discuss numbers. How does $100 per day sound? Fair?"

Emily's eyes widened. The job and the amount offered was far more than anything she expected. She realized that she must have looked like a fool with a puppy dog expression on her face, so she regained her composure.

"That sound reasonable," she replied calmly. "Yeah, okay."

"Then it's settled. Can you start tomorrow?"

"No problem. But are you sure you don't want to taste my cooking first?"

"Frankly, I don't care what the food taste like. You went to culinary school. That's good enough. I don't want to worry about food while I'm working."

Emily nodded. "Okay. I understand. May I ask what you do? Your house is beautiful. I love the rustic vibe to it."

"I've done a number of things in my life. These days I'm an art dealer. I also deal with rare antiques. At the moment, I'm focusing on my writings."

"What do you write?" she asked.

"A memoir. I'm not claiming to be anyone famous or important. But I have some stories to share. It would be a shame if no one heard them. I'm also working on some fictional books."

"Oh, sounds interesting. Maybe I can read them someday. I love reading memoirs."

John cracked a faint smile. "I don't think you would be interested."

"Why not?"

"A guess. But who knows? Sometimes I'm wrong about these things."

"Okay," Emily nodded awkwardly.

John stood up and walked towards Emily. She got the cue and stood up also. John was nearly a foot taller than her. His physique towered over Emily's petite little frame.

He extended a handshake, and they shook hands.

"We officially have a deal," he said. "I expect the first set of meals tomorrow at 11:30 am. Don't be late. I don't tolerate disobedience."

She gulped. "Yes sir."

***

Emily was still reeling from the meeting with John. She laid in bed and stared at the ceiling. The offer seemed too good to be true. It was almost unbelievable. It must have been a cruel joke, she thought.

She picked up her phone and called her mother. Her mother always answered her calls within a few rings. When the phone was answered, Emily wasted no time explaining everything. No detail was spared. Emily told her mother everything about the offer and the entire experience meeting John.

"That's so wonderful," her mom replied.

"I know. Crazy right? But I won't believe any of this until his cash touches my hand. Until then, I'm assuming the worst."

"Think positive thoughts Emily. Your business is finally taking off."

"I hope so. I mean, $100 bucks a day for two meals? Even if he fires me next week, I'll still be glad that I made so much money."

"I wouldn't worry about that."

"What do you mean?" Emily asked.

"Apparently, John has deep pockets."

"I could tell. His house was like a museum."

"There you go. You don't have to worry about his finances running out. Just keep him happy with great meals, great service, and don't be late."

"What else do you know about that guy?" Emily asked in a more serious tone. "He seems kind of like an oddball, doesn't he?"

Her mom thought for a moment. "In some ways. I've only met him once at a party. He's a really smart guy. No nonsense. Stern."

"That's definitely him," Emily quipped.

"Don't underestimate him though. Apparently he's great with the ladies."

"Really?"

"That's what I've heard. Make sure you stay away from his irresistible charm," she joked.

"Very funny," Emily replied. "He's definitely

not

my type though. Way too old. And way too boring."

"I'm just glad that your business is off to a great start."

"We'll see."

"Think positive thoughts, Emily."

***

Weeks passed. Emily had prepared dozens of meals for John. And she made thousands of dollars in the process.

The daily routine was always the same: Wake up early in the morning. Cook. Place everything neatly in containers. Bring it to John's house before 11:30 am. Never be late. And never disobey.

Emily was asked to prepare the lunch on a plate. So she did. It was the first time she performed duties in John's kitchen. She was proud of her food. She knew it tasted great, although John never complimented her food.

He came down the stairs in casual attire. As always, his face was mostly expressionless. He looked at the food presented on the dining table, and he didn't bother to comment on it.

"Should I leave now?" Emily asked awkwardly.

"Stay for a moment. There's something I want to ask you."

"Okay."

John sat down at the dining table while Emily remained standing.

"What other services do you provide?" he asked. "Besides cooking."

Emily was shocked and stood her ground. She braced herself for more innuendos. She was prepared for sexual harassment.

"I provide an honest catering service. I cook gourmet meals. That's all. If you're looking for

other

services, then I suggest you look elsewhere."

"And why is that?" he asked sternly.

"Honestly, you're

not

my type."

"You're not my type either."

She felt even more offended. "Look, I think our arrangement is working out well. Let's keep it that way. Anything else isn't going to work."

"Do you think I'm soliciting sexual favors?" he asked.

Emily froze. "Aren't you?"

"I don't think so."

Her face turned beet red. "Oh, sorry sir."

"Forget it," he replied. "I'm asking because my maid is retiring soon. If you have extra time, then maybe you could help with my housekeeping duties."

"What do you want me to do?"

"Nothing difficult. Clean the dishes. Keep everything neat."

"I'll have to think about it."

"You'll be well compensated of course," he replied. "And don't worry, I won't solicit you for sex. You're not my type."

She blushed again. "Sorry about that. But I'll consider it. Why not?"

"Keep the offer in mind. My work is going smoothly and I'd appreciate some help with the household maintenance."

"You don't get out much, do you?"

"I've already traveled the world and seen everything," he replied. "These days I focus on my writings. I go out sometimes. I still love to exercise. But I don't want to worry about household maintenance. You seem like a capable young lady, so I'm offering you extra work."

Emily nodded. "That's very nice of you."

"With the extra money, you could buy yourself a new wardrobe and a new car."

She was slightly peeved. "I get it. I need money. You don't have to rub it in."

"I wasn't trying to."

"Fine. I'll do it. I'll perform some extra housekeeping duties for you."

"Excellent," he replied with a rare smile. "We'll discuss a price later."

She walked towards John and extended her hand for a handshake. John stood up like a gentleman and shook hands. The deal was sealed.

Part 2 of 3: Behind the Locked Door

Emily managed to find a few other clients for small jobs. But most of her work was spent with John. She prepared his meals each weekday. Over time, she began doing more jobs for him.

She did small housekeeping duties for extra money. Emily had always been a messy person, so she found it ironic that she was doing household chores for someone else. But the money was good so she didn't mind.

The dishes had to be cleaned & arranged in a certain way. The windows had to be spotless. The furniture had to be free of dust. John cleaned the floors himself.

John was a very particular person. And those traits drove Emily crazy at times. But the money was good. In a way, Emily felt pride in helping John. In some strange way, she felt as though she was helping John achieve his goal of writing his books. She cared for him as a person.

***

The dining table was neatly arranged. Lunch was prepared. Emily looked at the plate and admired her beautiful work. Culinary school was worth it. She couldn't wait for John to taste it, even though John never gave compliments.

John was uncharacteristically late for the meal. He was never late. The upstairs door was slightly open and Emily heard the keyboard being furiously used. She knew he was still busy.

She walked towards the stairway and thought if she should call him or not. She didn't want to interrupt his work. But she knew that John was a man who needed order. Maybe he lost track of time?

Then she saw it.

Near the stairway, the door was

unlocked

and slightly opened. It was the room which John had said was off limits. John wanted every room cleaned except for

that

room.

Emily's curiosity peaked. She still heard John typing upstairs. She wanted a peek at the secret room. She wanted to know John's little secrets, no matter how minor they are. She was interested in him. She was interested in the man she had been serving for weeks.

She took a few quiet steps towards the door. She peeked her head inside. The room was dark. She flipped on the light switch and the room was brightly lit.

To Emily's surprise, the room was the least elegant place in the house. Everything looked like antiques. She walked inside and looked around. There was a variety of wooden & metal devices. The designs looked like they were from the medieval period. The devices looked big enough for a person to sit or lay on. Whips and chains were on the wall. There was plenty of rope on a nearby table.

Emily used her finger to touch a metal device. She wiped her finger across and looked at it. Her finger tip was coated in a thin layer of dust. The room hadn't been used in a while.

"You shouldn't be here," John said from behind.

Emily was caught off guard by the voice and she was startled. She turned around to see John standing by the door.

"Oh, I'm sorry."

"Didn't I say that this room is off limits?" he asked, casually walking inside.

"I know. But it was unlocked and I was curious. I thought maybe you wanted me to clean it."

"No. I was planning to clean it myself later."

Emily gulped. "Your food is ready. It's starting to get cold."

"It can wait," he replied, walking inside the room to look at the devices. "You must be wondering what all this is."

"It looks like a medieval torture chamber."

"You're almost right. Some of these things were built centuries ago during the medieval times. But not necessarily for torture."

"Then what for?"

"Pleasure. Sexual pleasure," he replied bluntly.

Emily was taken aback. "I can't imagine how. These things look so painful."

"That's the point."

"So they're bondage devices, basically?"

He nodded. "Those fetishes have been around for centuries. Can you believe that these devices were built for royal families and nobility?"

"Wouldn't surprise me. Most rich people are a pain in the ass."

He raised an eyebrow, "Does that include me?"

"Oh, no, I didn't mean you," she quickly backtracked.

"I was only joking."

Emily lightened up. "Of course. So why are all these things locked in this room? Why don't you sell them to a museum or something?"

"Maybe someday. But for now, I'm writing about them in my book. I was also planning on taking pictures of them. That's why the room was unlocked."

"Your book must be interesting."

"I hope so," he replied. "I've been writing about sex. The bondage kind."

Emily arched her eyebrows. "Really? You don't seem like the type of guy for that sort of thing."

"Then what type of guy do I seem like?"

"I don't know. Bland. Vanilla. No offense."

"None taken," he replied. "I was a much different person years ago. I wasn't always such a recluse."

"What changed?"

John rubbed his fingers on a metal device. "It's a long story. You can read my book when I'm done writing."

"Well, I look forward to it. You sound like you have some interesting stories."

"Do you know what a dom is?" he asked.

"Just the basics," she shrugged. "A guy who commands women. Whips. Chains. Spankings. That sort of thing, right?"

"More or less. I had been a dom to

many

submissive women. Beautiful women with dark desires."

"Did you spank them?" she asked curiously.

"Sometimes."

"What about these devices?" she asked. "Ever use them on your subs?"

"Occasionally. But the methods aren't important. It's not about the spankings or devices. It's about the surrender. They surrender their bodies to me. And I do whatever I want with it. In the end, the pleasure is mutual."

Emily was silent for a moment. She looked John straight in the eyes and she knew that every word was the truth. She knew it was something John was experienced with. She knew it was something John longed for again.

"Your food is getting cold," she said.

"Is that all you care about?"

She froze a moment. "Well, catering is what you hired me for, isn't it?"

"You're a clever girl," he said with a slight smile. "I'm starting to like you."

John reached over and gave Emily a friendly pat on the shoulder. Then he turned around and left the room while Emily was left confused from the awkward encounter. She followed him to the dining room and watched him eat.

***

Later that night. It was the phone call Emily had been dreading for the past several months.

"What?!" Emily asked.

"It's finally time," her mother replied. "Your father and I will no longer be supporting you financially. We feel you're old enough."

"You realize that living in the city is expensive right?"

"Sweety, no one is forcing you to live in the city. You could always move closer to home and find something cheaper."

"No thanks," Emily sighed.

"I don't know why you're acting so surprised. I've been giving you notice for the past few months. When I was your age, I..."

"Times have changed mom. Have you seen the news? This economy is rough. The cost of living is insane"

"But your business is taking off," her mother replied.

"Barely."

"You need to be a little more business savvy if you want to succeed. There are so many potential clients in the city. All you have to do is find them. You're a great cook and a nice person. I have faith in you Emily."

"Yeah, you're right. I was thinking about going to a few different companies to see if they need catering for parties."

"That's the spirit," her mom proudly replied.

"If life was only that easy."

"Good things come when you're persistent. Speaking of which, do you still work with John? How's that going?"

"It's going well," Emily said vaguely.

"Well? That's all? Any interesting details?"

"Not really. I cook for him 5 days a week. He pays me a lot of money for the service I provide. He's kind of an odd ball."

"Look who's talking," her mother teased.

"Funny."

"I'm only joking. You're right. John does seem kind of aloof. Smart guy though."

"He's definitely an interesting person," Emily replied. "And he keeps me employed. So I can't complain."

"Nor should you. If you want your business to grow, always appreciate your customers. That's always worked for me."

Emily paused a moment. "You know, you've just given me an idea."

"I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Thanks mom. You're the best."

"Well, take care Emily. I'm rooting for you. I love you."

"I love you too mom."

After the call ended, Emily had a firm sense of resolve. She was determined to succeed without her parents help.

***

The next day. Emily waited attentively while John ate his lunch. She cleaned the kitchen and took care of some household chores for him. When John finished eating, she went back to the dining room and took his plate away.

Before John had the chance to leave, she stood in front of the dining table with a respectful posture.

"I've been thinking," Emily said with her hands clasped together. "This arrangement has really been working out well. I've been taking care of most of your meals and household duties, and you can stay focused on your work."

John leaned back, knowing a proposal was coming. "I agree. This has been working out well. Better than I expected."