ONE: Vanilla on My Hands

44: You Think You Could Get Away with Trying to Take Control?

Frank stood in the office hallway that Monday afternoon, his eyes scanning over the spreadsheets that Sarah had given him to process through into the system. He looked at the clipboard in his hand, biting on his lip when he realized it, "Sarah?"

"What?" She asked curtly, looking up from the file in her hands as she stood in the doorway of the filing room.

"I, uh..." Frank tried to ignore the weird look she gave him; the condescending stare as though he were stupid, "There's something missing."

"I checked it three times." She rolled her eyes, "There's nothing missing."

"Sarah..." Frank walked over, "It goes from page seven to page eleven."

"No way." She muttered softly before snatching the clipboard from him, "No, no, no..."

"Sorry." Frank apologized for some reason, watching the frown set in her dark brows as she went through all of the pages frantically.

"Where the fuck?" She muttered under her breath, "Fuck, where are they?"

"I don't-" Frank shook his head as he looked around when he saw Gerard's door open out of his periphery and he swallowed. He glanced up to see Gerard standing expectantly in the doorway, leaning against the doorframe, looking absolutely delectable in his suit. Although it wasn't a matching suit, it looked way too good on him. Frank had asked to dress Gerard that morning, grinning in surprise when Gerard had said 'yes', telling his submissive that it was a rarity and that it was more of a reward than anything else.

Frank had picked out a pair of tight black slacks for his master with a white button-up that was striped with thin vertical black, a grey tweed blazer with thin black plaid went over the white shirt and to top it all off, Frank had picked out a blood orange colored tie that was littered with blue and white speckles over it. Frank handed Gerard a pair of black dress boots and matching red-orange socks. Gerard eyed the outfit, smirking as he stood there in a beige towel, his pale skin still dripping with warm shower rivulets. Frank couldn't deny just how good Gerard looked in a suit, almost just as good as he did in absolutely nothing. Frank looked at his Master again, biting on his lip when he looked again at Sarah, who was in the filing room and looking through a filing cabinet.

Gerard merely raised his hand, his hand lowered at his side, palm facing out with his index finger pointed at the floor in a signal that Frank knew he should remember and he wracked his brain, thinking back to the night before when Gerard had sat teaching him Dominant hand signals.

"Now, boy." Gerard smiled as he sat across from his submissive on his bed that evening, "A bit of submissive training to end your day. What do you think?"

"Yes, sir." Frank readjusted on the mattress, "What kind of training?"

"Hand signals, boy." Gerard began, "Hand signals are a sign of nonverbal communication between a Dominant and their sub. Which means that I can give you instructions without saying a word."

"That- I mean..." Frank closed his mouth, realizing he didn't have permission to speak, zipping his lips shut as Gerard gave him a small head nod of approval.

"There are quite a few, and a lot of Dominants create their own hand signals, for their submissives but I prefer the common ones. You look like you have a question, boy?"

Frank nodded and Gerard waved a hand, giving him permission to speak, "How many are there?"

"There are..." Gerard looked up for a moment, thinking as he counted on his fingers, biting on his bottom lip before he looked at his submissive, "About twenty."