Page 52 of Blossom


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“What does that mean?”

“Je ne sais quoi? It means ‘I don’t know what.’” And I thought that was a common phrase in America, even for people who don’t know a word of French.

“What do you mean you don’t know?” she presses. “You just said it was a touch of sherry.”

“True.”

“So why would you say you don’t know when you know what it is?”

I give her my stern and dominating look. “I don’t think you’re asking me that because you don’t know the answer. I think you’re asking because you’re trying to put off actually tasting the soup.”

Her eyes widen slightly, and her whole body responds by tensing. My cock throbs in my jeans.

Yes, Mary Sandusky is still a submissive.

She’s still Blossom.

And I’m going to make her blossom. Effloresce.

Under my touch. Under my dominant hand.

Mary Sandusky will blossom into something she never even imagined she could be.

Chapter Sixteen

Mary

I take another sip of my Sazerac. This drink isn’t for the faint of heart. While I enjoy a cocktail, I’m not a huge drinker. I never have been. When you’re in the lifestyle, you must keep your faculties alert at all times. Whether you’re a Dominant or a submissive or a switch, you need to always be in full control of your body. For a submissive, it’s doubly important so that you can let your Dominant know if anything is going wrong.

So I don’t drink a lot, and this drink is damned strong.

The problem is with every sip, it tastes a little bit better. It’s growing on me in a way I never thought possible.

I’m also beginning to feel it. Only slightly, but that little tingle in my head… There it is.

And Ronan is right…

I’m putting off tasting the soup. I mean…it’s turtle.

But I just told him I’m here for the immersive experience, so I’m going to immerse myself in this soup. I take a spoonful, bring it to my lips, blow on it, and…

I widen my eyes as the soup glides over my tongue. It’s delicious, especially with the dollop of sherry. I take another drink of the Sazerac. It complements the turtle soup as if the two were made to go together, which they probably were.

When the server comes by and asks if we want another drink, Ronan raises his eyebrows at me.

“It’s delicious,” I say, “but I’d better stop.”

“You sure?” Ronan asks. “Sazerac is excellent with all of the food that’s coming. Or we could switch to a full-bodied, lusty red wine.”

I think for a moment. I don’t want to get even slightly tipsy tonight. “Tell you what. A small glass of wine with the main course sounds delectable. But as much as I like the Sazerac, I’m going to have to say no to further drinks.”

“You heard the lady.” Ronan hands his empty glass to the server. “But I’ll take another.”

Ronan is probably barely buzzed. The man is used to drinking top-shelf scotch, so one Sazerac probably does nothing for him. Plus, he’s huge.

If he’s a good Dominant, then he knows the unwritten rules as well as I do. You don’t overindulge in alcohol or any other kind of mind-numbing substance if play is on the table.

Of course, I’m putting that cart way before the horse.

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