Prince of Darkness vs Prom Queen
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Chapter 1 The Heart of a Dominant
What the hell was happening in Georgia?
And why did it always seem to happen the minute his back was turned? It wasn’t as if he turned his back that often.
One month. Not even one brief month. Not even thirty days. That was all he’d been away.
It was only the third time in nearly three years that Donovan had left Georgia for a training session and, each time, it had gone remarkably well. He might have stopped training for a short period of time but he had never lost his touch or skills as a Dominant.
Master Donovan Corbett was tall, cold, grim, forbidding, could make a submissive shiver with fear using just a single glance or almost imperceptible gesture. He was straight forward, never played games. When he gave a command, there was no doubt, it was to be obeyed. The penalty for disobedience was far too great. That was a lesson quickly learned. It only had to be taught once.
He could use any type of apparatus required for discipline and it seemed only right that he should since many of the items he used were of his own design. He tied knots more skillfully, wrapped chains tighter, cuffed wrists or ankles faster and more efficiently than anyone.
His favorite implement had always been a riding crop although in more recent years, thanks to some private lessons, he enjoyed the feel of a whip in his strong hands.
Whips had their use as a means of punishment but Master Donovan liked the powerful control the weapon gave him even more. With hardly a flick of his wrist he could wrap the thong and fall of any whip around a slave’s leg, waist or throat and bring them to their knees without leaving a single mark on their skin. Even those who hired him to train their submissives sometimes trembled watching the things Donovan Corbett did with a whip. His secret was a remarkable private coach who taught very efficient and impressive whip skills.
Master Donovan demanded absolute respect. Everything about him was intimidating: the way he walked, the way he stood, his countenance and bearing, his dark clothing, the deadly, quiet tone of voice he used, the glare of his dark eyes.
The slaves and submissives under his tutelage knew instantly what and who they were dealing with. They strove to do his bidding, working for and craving the infrequent praise he gave, yet all knew one slight, single word of acknowledgement from Master Donovan meant something.
There were only orders, never suggestions. He gave no sympathy. He showed no mercy. There were no excuses. There were no misunderstandings or do-overs. His directives were exacting and very specific. No one ever dared to disobey a rule or questioned his expertise or authority.
The fear of complete and absolute retribution was far too great.
And every slave and submissive he trained, every Dominant or Master for whom he did the training would have been thunderstruck at the sight of Master Donovan Corbett sitting on the floor, happily smiling, laughing and playing a game or building a tower of blocks with his nearly three year old son.
Matthew Donovan Corbett was thirty-three inches of pure energy and joy and loved dominating every minute of his father’s time. Matthew never walked if he could run, talked constantly and always had questions. Dozens of them. He was curious about everything. He got that from his mother.
Donovan was filled with wonder and pride as he watched his son grow. He was endlessly patient playing with Matthew, both teaching him and learning from him. Almost anything Donovan may have had planned for the day could be postponed and he was always there for Matthew. Swinging Matthew high in the air, listening to his son’s shouts and giggles, gave Donovan a sense of accomplishment he had never known. He did many things well and while there were some things he couldn’t even begin to understand, being a father wasn’t one of them. He was great at it and loved every minute of it.
He recalled a time when he was uncertain about his parenting skills and marveled at his newfound abilities. It all came so naturally and easily. The two spent hours together and had an unbreakable bond. Donovan idolized his son and, in turn, was his son’s hero. He could hardly remember the time before he was around and had the distinct feeling that when his son eventually started school, it was going to be him, not Matthew, who suffered separation anxiety.
Matthew had his mother’s eyes but the rest of him was the mirror image of his dad. They had the same walk, the same stance, identical mannerisms. Master Matthew even had the same intimidating glare as his father, a glare often focused on the submissive tattletale in the house: Virgil the fluffy dog-moose.
Virgil may have been submissive to Donovan but he was pure Dominant when it came to looking after Matthew and his cousin Jeremy. Nothing got past Virgil’s watchful eyes no matter how hard Matthew or Jeremy might try. Bad choices never had the chance to happen due to Virgil’s vigilance.
Donovan wasn’t quite sure how Virgil always knew when trouble was on the horizon but he did and dutifully alerted the closest adult. Climbing on the garden wall? Not on Virgil’s watch. Stealing cookies before lunch? Not while Virgil was around. Daring to approach the pool without adult supervision? Not as long as Virgil could bark. To Donovan’s complete delight, Warden Virgil also tattled on Victor.
Slightly insane Victor, Donovan’s assistant, the world’s greatest baby-sitter and care giver had been watching over Matthew and Jeremy since they were infants and, as far as Donovan could tell, hadn’t caused any lasting damage to either of the boys even if he was usually the first one to fall asleep at nap time.
Donovan still wondered how Victor knew the things he knew but when Victor was involved it was sometimes better not to ask too many questions. Victor let Matthew and Jeremy bury him in their sandbox. He cut their lunchtime sandwiches into rocket or dinosaur shapes. He made up silly games, told outrageous stories and chased the boys making them scream with delight usually while Donovan and the dog-moose rolled their eyes and watched from a safe distance.
Finally, Donovan had an ally. True, he may have been a slobbering ally but he was devoted, watched over the boys and always took Donovan’s side. Everyone needed a dog-moose like Virgil.
When Donovan’s cousin Marian accepted Victor’s proposal of marriage, it started the creation of an entirely new and untraditional family. The people in Donovan’s home and Marian’s home merged almost into a single unit and they cared for each other, watched over and trusted each other.
Donovan had come a long way in accepting Marian and Victor as a couple. He still didn’t understand it but he accepted it. What the hell did they talk about? Marian was so normal and Victor was so…not. Still it worked for them and the adoption of little Jeremy was a very welcome addition to their family.
Jeremy and Matthew were together constantly. They played together, napped together and got into mischief together. It wasn’t unusual to see both of them snuggled on Donovan’s lap as he read a story. Often the two used Virgil as a pillow and watched a favorite movie, sharing the popcorn provided by Victor. Usually Donovan hated noise but the sound of Matthew and Jeremy’s voices raised in happy, excited shouts of laughter and giggles was the best noise in the world.
Donovan was surprised at how quickly Cousin Marian, always a business-oriented, hard-edged career woman adapted to being a devoted wife and mom and while he didn’t think he’d ever completely stop questioning Victor’s sanity, Donovan had to admit, Victor was an incredible parent to Jeremy.
Other than loving his wife and son, the best part of Victor’s world was irritating Donovan. Marian sometimes got annoyed at Donovan when she listened to her husband and cousin and their almost daily disagreements and
good-natured battles. She had to admit Victor was often the instigator but Donovan was entirely too proper and persnickety and probably deserved everything Victor did to annoy him. Marian was a busy, no-nonsense type of person who hadn’t antagonized her cousin since they were children but she vowed — one day — in some way — just to get even – she was going to do something to make Donovan as crazy as he claimed Victor was. She wasn’t sure how and she wasn’t sure when but one of these days her opportunity would come and Marian was going to teach Cousin Donny a lesson he wouldn’t forget. Her husband would be prouder of her than he already was.
The family grew again with the addition of Grandpa John.
With two failed marriages behind him, John Grace was a sad and often lonely man. His life was centered on work and his attempts to search for his long lost daughter. Everything in John’s world changed with a single telephone call from Donovan. In one evening, full of tears and sunflowers, Donovan acquired a father-in-law and reunited John with his daughter. John was rather overwhelmed and no longer sad or lonely when he, in turn, was welcomed into a family, found his daughter and acquired not only a son-in-law but also a grandson, cousin-in-law, cousin-in-law’s husband, grandson-in-law, a dog-moose and a malevolent stuffed unicorn also named Virgil who was, perhaps, not really malevolent to everyone.
Virgil the First was the bane of Donovan’s life. Before the days of Donovan, Matthew, and the dog-moose, Virgil the unicorn held a special place in his owner’s heart. He was a friend, confidant, a source of comfort and warmth when his owner felt alone. Donovan’s presence changed Virgil’s life forever and he was not about to let Donovan Corbett forget that fact. Usurped snuggler Virgil sat in a place of honor on a large blue chair in the bedroom and stared at Donovan with black, beady, unforgiving eyes that followed Donovan’s every move and gave him the creeps. Donovan was absolutely certain the pernicious and sinister Virgil was plotting his demise. Who the hell would name a unicorn Virgil?
Who, indeed?
Only one person Donovan could think of.
One day, when he least expected it, the clouds that surrounded Donovan’s universe parted to let in the golden rays of the sun and there she was. It was obvious the astronomist who cautioned about staring into that sun had not considered Laci.
With her big blue eyes, silky, blonde hair and angelic looks, Laci was different from anyone Donovan had ever known. She was beautiful, smart, self-reliant, about as unsubmissive as was humanly possible and contradicted every idea and belief he had, surprising him every day.
It was Laci who understood him which was kind of amazing because Donovan could hardly understand himself. He certainly couldn’t understand her and was almost certain he never would, although to his credit he did keep trying.
It was Laci who made him babble like a lunatic whenever he got confused and around her he was ALWAYS confused and usually babbling.
It was Laci who taught him how to use a whip and make toast and while the toasting was quite understandable, her skill at whip techniques was not something Donovan would have anticipated but he had wisely learned not to anticipate anything where she was concerned.
It was Laci who knew when he had a bad day and needed some tender loving care because she had some kind of Donovan Radar and seemed to know almost everything before he did which often led to more confusion and babbling.
It was Laci who was an incredible wife and mother, taking care of him and Matthew, the rest of the family and the dog-moose which was kind of nice because she was the only one who could keep Victor under control.
It was Laci who turned him into a romantic who wanted to buy sunflowers and ride rainbows and eat pizza with pineapple which weren’t a regular part of Master Donovan’s dark world but finding one’s way into the light was better than he ever expected.
It was Laci who baked the best cookies he’d ever eaten and understood how shoe-gasms worked. The cookies were delicious but the shoe-gasms were better.
It was Laci who made him happy and content mostly because of all she did and how she did it and, damn, she was really good at those shoe-gasms.
It was Laci he loved and who loved him back and who dominated the heart of a Dominant.
Whenever Donovan went out of town, he missed her and couldn’t wait to get back to Georgia. This trip was no exception. He missed her like crazy and he only had one question.
What the hell was going on this time?
Chapter 2 GRRRRRRR!!!
The jet ascended through the bright blue sky and cottony clouds to cruising altitude. Flight time between Texas and Georgia was about two hours which gave Donovan about two hours to ponder why his beautiful and perfect wife, the love of his life, the other half of his heart, the center of his universe was angry at him.
Make that two more hours. He’d actually been pondering the question for the last couple of days. Not that he had much to ponder. She was angry because he was being insensitive.
Donovan Corbett? Insensitive?
It had all started during a simple conversation. He couldn’t possibly have said anything wrong. He was merely being a devoted and slightly neurotic, jealous husband. What was so insensitive about that? It had nothing to do with his reaction to learning his wife was again spending time with Hollywood heart throb, Trent Nichols. Nothing at all. GRRR!
Problem one: he was a man trying to figure out a woman. Chance of resolution: slim
Problem two: she was mad at him and he wasn’t really sure why. Chance of resolution: less than none.
Problem three: he was Donovan trying to figure out Laci. Chance of resolution?
What was less than impossible?
Laci met Trent several years earlier when Trent came to town to film a movie. A number of local writers and reporters tried to interview him but the only one he agreed to talk with was Laci. He said people always asked him the same questions but Laci asked him the best questions he had ever been asked. He really liked her questions. Right. It was all about her questions. Sure it was. GRRRR!!
That first interview and Laci’s remarkable questions led to a friendship between the two and every time Trent had a problem, needed an opinion, wanted a sympathetic ear, he called Laci. Every damn time.
Why did Trent have to call her so much? Why wasn’t he calling other actors? Wasn’t there a place where all the actors met and socialized and talked about whatever it was actors talked about while they patted each other on their respective backs and gave each other awards?
Why couldn’t Trent go play with his actor friends and leave Donovan’s wife alone? GRRRR!!
The answer was simple: Trent trusted Laci. He knew he could tell her anything and it would go no further. He never had to worry about Laci contacting a tabloid or giving an interview to spill his secrets. She’d never sell him out for money or anything else. Laci wouldn’t do that. She was open and honest, a good friend and listener so Trent called her constantly and talked to her about everything.
Usually there were more than 2000 miles between Laci and the weasel, also known as Trent. As far as Donovan was concerned, 2000 wasn’t nearly enough. Two million probably wouldn’t be enough.
Trent called constantly, venting about unreasonable demands from even more unreasonable directors. He shared stories about the unusual happenings on his film shoots. He asked her opinion about his wardrobe — both personal and professional. He asked her to listen while he practiced his lines. He asked for advice about the parts he was being offered. He told her about his love life and how he wished he could meet someone special, all the while lamenting the lack of loving women in Hollywood.
Maybe the idiot couldn’t find a
girlfriend because he was always on the damned phone. GRRRR!!
And why did he have to call Laci? Trent Nichols had a personal assistant and a personal trainer and a personal shopper. He probably had a personal weasel groomer. Did he also need a personal listener? He had a driver who drove him and a stylist who styled him. Why the hell couldn’t he hire a listener to listen to him. Surely somewhere in the 2000 mile span of acreage between Georgia and California there had to be at least one trustworthy person who Trent could talk to, right? Apparently there wasn’t because Trent kept calling Laci. GRRRR!!
Laci was probably very flattered that one of the biggest stars in Hollywood trusted and confided in her. Well, Donovan trusted Laci, too. He confided in her all the time and often sought her advice about business. She was a great listener, had a way of seeing what he missed, was smart, looked at things with an entirely different perspective. He relied on her, had trusted her judgment many times and never regretted it so he supposed it was understandable Trent would feel the same way.
The calls were bad enough but there were also the visits. Trent had made two films at one of the old plantations on the outskirts of town and liked the area. Donovan could understand that as well. It was a city with the quaint, charming feeling of a small town so it was easy to see why Trent enjoyed coming back whenever his schedule permitted. He said it was a peaceful and quiet place to get away from the busy and hectic life he had in Hollywood.
What was wrong with skiing in the Swiss Alps? Why couldn’t he go to Madagascar for his actor getaways? Wasn’t a place like Bora Bora good enough for him? Other Hollywood celebrities seemed to like those places. Why couldn’t he go there instead? Why did he have to visit Georgia where Laci and her questions just happened to live? And why did she always invite him to stay in the guesthouse where he would have his privacy? And full access to Laci’s questions. GRRRR!!!
Cousin Marian always welcomed Trent’s visits because he had given Laci several exclusive personal interviews. Obviously he didn’t want to talk to anyone else, face to face, any more than he wanted to talk to them on the phone.
Trent Nichols was a huge star and didn’t give many interviews but now it seemed as if Laci had become his personal interviewer as well as his personal listener which thrilled Marian because every issue of her magazine with one of mega-weasel Trent’s interviews sold more copies than all the other issues. And all because of Laci’s wonderful questions. GRRR!!
Cousin Marian might feel differently if Trent was calling her husband all the time instead of Donovan’s wife. Maybe Donovan should suggest that Trent start getting Victor’s point of view about a few things. Trent and Victor got along great. They were spicy junk food buddies. Every time Trent came to town, he and Victor made a pilgrimage to their favorite spicy wing place. Maybe Victor could ask him a few unusual questions. Asking unusual questions should be easy for Victor. Victor excelled at unusual.
Or maybe Trent Nichols needed a stuffed unicorn to confide in. Donovan could help with that as well. He could buy a one-way, first class ticket and pack Virgil the First off to Hollywood. He’d even buy him some sunglasses so he’d fit right in with the Hollywood crowd. Laci said Virgil was a good listener. It would make Virgil feel needed and he could wear his new sunglasses and stare his mean, beady eyed stare at Trent for a while and give Trent the creeps.
But Trent kept right on calling Laci. Trent Nichols was good looking, famous, wealthy and probably everything a woman would want judging by the thousands of female fans and followers he seemed to have. Didn’t even one of them have a trustworthy and sympathetic ear? Didn’t any of them have a really good question or two? Surely one of them must have unlimited minutes on their phone?
And then came the miracle of miracles. Trent Nichols found a girlfriend.
Bree
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