Ridiculous, she thinks.

The American Journal of Psychology has once again published the inane ramblings of blustery Stanford professor Wendell Pratchett. His theories, if they can so be called, on psychoanalysis are as poorly expressed as they are outdated.

In the past, she would have been writing a strongly worded contradictory paper before she even finished reading his. Yet, today she’s content to let it go.

“Page.”

At her command, nimble fingers quickly flip to the next article. Penelope Morneau brings her coffee mug to her lips, never taking her eyes off the journal.

It’s nearly dusk, but she has only just gotten up and about. Despite it, her burgundy locks appear as if she has just left a salon. A dark red robe adorns her voluptuous frame as she sits in a posh lounge chair.

As she continues reading, the journal begins to drift to the side. Her head follows suit until she straightened up and removes her reading glasses. “Hold it still,” she says with a forceful tone. “Eye level.”

The tome quickly levels. “Yes, Mistress. I’m sorry, Mistress.”

The young woman kneeling in front of Penny tries to fix her posture. Holding the quarterly publication for her Mistress sounded easy enough, but she didn’t expect her to read the entire thing. Despite the book’s paltry weight, she’s having a difficult time keeping it in the exact position her Mistress wants.

The girl is far from new. She’s put in months of service to Mistress Penelope, but it is her first attempt at being an easel. Her nose itches, her latex bra is pinching, and her thighs are on fire, but she struggles to stay as still as possible.

If her Mistress notices her struggles, she ignores them. Penelope continues silently reading her journal until the book begins to tilt again. With an exasperated sigh, Penny sits her mug aside. “Holding a book in place can’t possibly be that hard.”

“I’m sorry, Mistress. I’m trying,” the submissive answers, tightening her grip on the journal. “It’s harder than it looks.”

She regretted her response immediately. Mistress Penelope just stares at her for what feels like an hour. Another apology forms on her lips, but she can’t quite say it. Fortunately, she doesn’t need to.

“Lisa.” The sound of her name brings her to the study’s entrance. Her Mistress’ right hand and the host of her House stands in the doorway.

Unlike all the others who serve in House Morneau, he wears nice suits. He’s in a position of authority, second only to Mistress Penelope herself. However, while Jeremy once had the respect of the others, in recent weeks, he has begun to raise their ire.

“Mistress doesn’t need your excuses,” he says with a superior tone. “Or your commentary. Yes or no. Simple as that.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Something you need, Jeremy?” Penny asks, returning her focus to her reading.

“Yes, Mistress. Henry Willard is here to see you.”

“Well, show him in,” she answers, retrieving her coffee. “Lisa, put the journal on the table. We’ll finish it later.”

“Yes, Mistress.”

“Mistress.” Penny raises an eyebrow as Jeremy moves closer to her instead on immediately carrying out her instructions. “Are you sure you want to see him?”

Setting the journal down, Lisa pauses, keeping her back to them, and listens. He’s going to do it again. Try to keep Mistress Penelope and the House of Warwick separate.

She was in Mistress’ presence when she refused to see Eleanor Warwick. She was angry with her. Mistress was never a good person to anger. But in the following days, she considered contacting Warwick. Not to apologize, but to have it out with her. Jeremy was there. Whispering in her ear, convincing her that Warwick’s was not an acquaintance she needed.

“Why would I not?” Penelope asks.

“We both know why he’s come, Mistress. He wants to open the door for Warwick.”

“And? Last time I checked, I control said door. And it won’t be opening to Eleanor for a while yet.”

“But, Mistress, I worry that- .”

“Jeremy.” Penelope’s sharp interruption silences him. “Your concerns are noted. Show him in.”

Without another moment’s hesitation, he bows his head. “Yes, Mistress.”

Lisa watches curiously as her Mistress adjusts her robe so that it reveals a greater portion of her shapely legs. When their eyes met, Lisa freezes. “You may run along, Lisa. Take some time to relax before we finish reading.”

“Yes, Mistress. Thank you.” Stepping carefully past a man in an Armani suit, Lisa leaves the room.

Following the pretty little servant with his eyes, Henry nods in approval before turning his attention to Penny. “Good evening, my dear.”

“Henry,” she answers with a smile. “What brings you to my home? If you’re here for a session, I can fit you in now.”

With a slight chuckle, he takes a seat across the room. “I’ll have to pass.”

“Very well. One of these days though...”

“Yes, well.” Henry shifts uncomfortably under her devious gaze. “I’m actually here on a matter of some import.”

“I see. What nonsense has Eleanor gotten you into this time?”

“Actually, this time it’s not really the girl’s fault. There’s been some trouble with the government.” Penny cocks her head to the side curiously, but allows Henry to continue. “She’s being leaned on by someone named Evelyn Grey. She’s making her track down a Tempus Stone for her.”

“So? She does that sort of thing already.”

“Come now, Penelope. You have no fondness for the government.” She nods. “We both know they aren’t just going to wash their hands of her if she does as they ask.”

“Perhaps not,” she replies with a casual shrug. “But what exactly does this have to do with me?”

“The girl was hoping that you might be willing to help her acquire some information that she could use against Grey and her nameless agency.”

Silence takes the room as the two stare at one another. Penelope knew this was coming, and yet for some reason she’s still having a difficult time believing that Eleanor would expect her assistance.

“I’m sorry, Henry,” she finally says. “You’ll have to tell Eleanor that she’ll need to do her own dirty work.”

With a heavy sigh, Henry leans back in his chair. “How long are you planning on punishing her?”

“I punished her all the time when we were together. She can take it.”

“Moving on quickly from that, I don’t like the situation any more than you, but what’s done is done. Jessie is here and she’s not going anywhere.”

“You think I’m being petty.”

“I think you’re taking something personally that wasn’t intended to be so.”

“She ignored us, Henry!” He cringes slightly as she raised her voice. “Us! The only two people who have stood by her through all her foolishness!”

“I know. But the girl’s guilt was making her- .”

“Oh, yes, Henry,” she cuts in, her composure returning. “Lecture me on emotional state of mind. I have- .”

It’s her guest’s turn to interrupt. “Two PhD’s, valedictorian, published a gazillion times, doctoral thesis required reading at Yale. I’m familiar with your resume, my dear.”

For a moment, Penny only stares in indignation. She isn’t used to anyone challenging her in her own House. Sometimes she wondered why she bothered having friends. Submissives are always so much more accommodating.

Eleanor is typically the more defiant of the two. Henry more often has a delightful tendency to try to win her approval. That doesn’t seem to be the case at the moment.

“Harvard.”

Henry raises an eyebrow.

“Required reading at Harvard.”

“Yes, yes. Harvard.”

“Besides, guilt has nothing to do with this. She’s developed some childish crush on Jessica.”

Henry begins to offer a denial, but stops himself. “All right. Perhaps she is a tad smitten.” Henry looks up and down the length of her bare legs. “We’ve all been there.”

Penny smirks slightly. It’s about time he noticed. Now she has him. “The point is Eleanor made her choice. She chose Jessica over us. If you want to look past that, more power to you, but I will not be so easily won back.”

“I’m not suggesting you should be, but-.”

“I’m sorry, Henry. My answer is no.”

With a nod, the old wizard rises and steps toward her. “Well, then. Thank you for your time.”

“You’re welcome here anytime, Henry. Call ahead and I can make sure I have an open room in my dungeon.” She stands and carefully adjusts his tie. “I think you’d find that I can be surprisingly gentle when I want to be.”

“Yes...I...uh...” As per usual, the famous Henry Willard wit completely vanishes when Penelope touches him.

He nearly jumps when Penny suddenly and forcefully yanks his tie, pulling his face closer to her’s. She slowly moves for his lips, but at the very last possible second, she cuts to the side and whispers seductively into his ear. “I just usually don’t want to be.”

Before he can even try and answer, Penny gently pushes him away and returns to her seat. It takes him a few moments to compose himself. “I, uh...will just...see myself out. Lovely to see you.”

Penelope only smiles as he slowly exits, as if he hopes she will stop him or at least say something. She does neither. Once he’s gone, Jeremy returns to the study.

“Everything all right, Mistress?”

“Yes. Take this,” she commands, handing him her coffee cup. “Have Lisa meet me in my bedroom. I have to get dressed before we open to the public.”

“Yes, Mistress.” Again, she notices her longest tenured sub hesitate. A look is enough to make him speak up. “How did your meeting go? Will Ms. Warwick be back soon?”

Penny narrows her eyes as she rises and steps closer to him. “Jeremy. I certainly hope, for your sake, that you haven’t begun to think you have any input into my personal affairs.”

The host is speechless for a moment before weakly answering. “No, Mistress. Of course not.”

“Good. Because you don’t.” Placing a finger under his chin, her piercing green eyes burn into his. “You’d do well to remember that.”

Without awaiting a response, his Mistress turns and heads off to prepare for the night to come.

Midway through his sixties, not much surprises Henry.

He has to admit, though. He didn’t expect Penelope to rebuff him so thoroughly. Perhaps he could have been more assertive, but she always has a way of controlling such situations. There’s little chance of getting her to change her mind.

A light vibration in his pocket draws his attention. Removing his cell phone, he answers, “Yes?”

“Mr. Willard?”

“Marvin. What can I do for you?”

“I was hoping to speak to Ms. Warwick again.”

“Oh?”

“Yes. The Boston job; I...I’ve reconsidered.”

A smile spreads across Henry’s face. This evening isn’t going to end so badly after all. “Jessie, you vixen,” he says softly.

“What’s that?”

“Nothing, Marvin. Nothing at all.”

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