Raising Lucy

by Becca Jameson

  “Yes, Sir.”

  He pulls my hand down and clasps it with his other one at my waist. When he sets his palm back on my thigh, he keeps my wrist pressed to my side. “The book, Lucy.”

  I try to think. It’s hard with him staring at me like this. With me on his lap. With him holding my wrist. With his fingers stroking the skin between my thighs. With my nipples hard points he can easily see.

  I press against the sides of my breasts with my biceps, hoping to push my blouse off the tips so that I can think.

  Master Roman narrows his gaze. He suddenly lifts me off his lap and sets me on my feet in front of him. His hands go to the front of my blouse, and he rapidly unbuttons it.

  I’m shocked. I glance around. People could be watching.

  He tugs it from my skirt and pulls it down my arms and off my body so fast I can’t gather the wherewithal to stop him.

  I’m naked from the waist up. My nipples are so hard, and I’m chilled. It’s a nice day in Seattle, but not nice enough to go without a shirt. I cross my arms before I can stop myself.

  He points at the grass next to the bench. “On your knees, cherry blossom.”

  I shuffle to the grass and lower myself to my knees. I’m shivering and nervous, but I love the pet name he’s given me. It makes my cheeks warm every time. It’s endearing.

  “Back straight. Hands clasped behind you. Knees wider. You’ve done this a dozen times. You know how to kneel in front of me, Lucy.”

  I glance around again. Someone is going to see me. I don’t want to disappoint Master Roman, but he’s pushing me further than I’m comfortable with.

  His voice is deeper when he reprimands me. “Lucy, now.”

  I obey because I can’t not. A shudder wracks my entire body as my boobs lift higher on my chest. I lower my gaze, shocked by what I see. Who is this woman on her knees in the grass in clothing meant for a young girl and no shirt?

  Master Roman leans forward, his elbows on his knees. “No one is going to come out here. Relax.”

  Relax? Is he crazy?

  He reaches out a hand and gently strokes my breast, sending goose bumps across the surface. His fingers are warm against my bare skin. His thumb brushes over my nipple, making me whimper. “Your tits are amazing, Lucy.” His voice is lower now. Calm. He is not angry. “I want you to stop worrying about them all the time. Some days I’m going to make you spend time with nothing covering them at all until you stop fretting over not wearing a bra under your shirt.”

  I gulp. The idea is unimaginable to me. I don’t know why I didn’t consider the ramifications of committing to this odd arrangement with him. He’s a Dom. He owns his own club for God’s sake. Of course he likes his submissives naked. But am I up for this? I don’t know.

  He picks up my braid and toys with the ends before using it to tickle the skin on my breast. When he flicks it over my nipple, I let out a soft cry.

  “That’s my girl. I’m going to love worshiping these tits. And you’re going to learn to love exposing them to me.”

  I shiver. Is that possible? Am I too modest for this lifestyle?

  “I’m not asking you to strip naked in front of other people, Lucy. Baby steps here. But I’m going to push your boundaries hard. These little titties are mine. If I want to see them, you’ll show them to me.”

  “Yes, Sir,” I murmur.

  He continues teasing my nipples with my braid, dancing the ends of my hair across my puckered skin. “So gorgeous. Your skin is flawless. Your nipples are perfection. I can’t wait to wrap my lips around them.” He’s speaking out loud, but it’s as if he’s talking to himself.

  The chill begins to recede as my skin heats. The way he looks at me makes me feel pretty. I’ve never had a bad body image, but I’ve also never been naked with a man before. Today I have had both my breasts and my genitals exposed to my new Master. I’m both nervous and excited by the prospect of taking things further.

  He drops my braid, and it sways back and forth over my nipple. He leans back on the bench and casually crosses his legs. “Now, tell me about the book. You’re going to kneel there with your sweet tits exposed until I’m satisfied.”

  I swallow. The book…

  He lifts a brow. “My staff knows not to follow us into my garden. But eventually they will send out a search party if we don’t return.”

  I nod. “Okay. So, the book. I was reading about the different types of littles.” I force myself to ignore my exposure and concentrate on what I’ve read. I go into my head.

  “And? Did you discover anything insightful about yourself?”

  “Not yet. I read about the dynamic between littles or middles and their Masters. Most of them don’t have arrangements like ours it seems. Most of them role-play for a few hours at a time.”

  “This is true. I can’t say what the long run will look like for either of us yet. This is a unique arrangement born from a unique set of circumstances. Most people don’t have the ability to drop everything and move into a 24/7 situation so they can figure things out.”

  I watch him as he speaks. He’s sitting so casually in front of me while I kneel before him with my breasts hanging free. It’s unnerving.

  “Did you read about the various ages people like to assume?”

  “Yes, Sir. But I don’t know what suits me yet. I think I like this one though.” I know I do. Other than the bra thing, I have enjoyed the freedom I’ve experienced from turning over every decision to a Master while my only job was to do as I’m told. Even kneeling in the lawn like this is refreshing in a way. I didn’t make this choice. I simply obeyed.

  Another reason I like this age is because it’s not so young that I can’t exercise rational thought. Twelve-year-old girls have had enough education to know about the world. They can read at an adult level for example.

  Master Roman is watching me, so I decide to share. “I’m not sure I would enjoy pretending to be an age where I can’t read or I’m expected to play with toys all day. It wouldn’t be enough to keep my mind occupied.”

  He nods. “Understandable. What about the actual baby stage? Did you read about that?”

  I shudder. “If you’re asking if I want to drink from a bottle and wear a diaper, hell no.”

  He lifts a brow. “Watch your language, Lucy.”

  I rarely cuss, and I don’t think I have since I met Master Roman. At least not in front of him. I’m surprised by his admonishment. But then again, I remind myself, I’m twelve. “Sorry, Sir.”

  He reaches out a hand. “Come here, blossom.”

  I rise to my feet and shuffle to him.

  He lifts my blouse from his lap and holds it up for me to slip my arms into it. He then proceeds to button it and tuck it into my skirt once again. “There. Now do you feel naked?”

  “Not as much, Sir, but it’s still weird having my breasts loose. I’m constantly conscious of them swaying and my nipples grazing against the material.”

  He gives my hips a squeeze. “That’s the idea, blossom.”

  “I’m not sure I will get used to it, Sir,” I add. I’m concerned. He wanted me to share my concerns. So, I am.

  “Mind over matter. If I catch you fidgeting tomorrow, I will remove your clothes and make you sit in your office all day in just your panties. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir.” My mouth is dry again. I’m not sure how I feel about his demand. On the one hand, I’m mortified by the prospect. That’s twice he has suggested making me spend time without my shirt. It should horrify me. And it does. Right? Except it also doesn’t. At the same time, I’m aroused by the idea.

  It seems apparent that Master Roman is not going to expose me to his staff. At least not at this stage in our play. He knows I’m not ready for that. The idea of being forced to sit topless in my office makes me aroused. It has just enough edge to it to make me worry I might be seen mixed with a knowledge that is incredibly unlikely. The combination is titillating.

  I don’t share my thoughts with Master Roman.
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  Chapter 27

  Lucy

  * * *

  I spend a few more hours in the afternoon reading the book. I’m almost finished with it when Master Roman fills my doorway. “We’re going to have dinner together tonight, Lucy.”

  I twist my head to look at him. “We are, Sir?” I have eaten all my meals alone in the kitchen since I started working here. I usually have no idea where or when Master Roman eats. I assume there’s a dining room someplace, but I’ve never seen it.

  “Yes. You remember Master Julius?”

  “Yes, Sir. He’s the manager of Surrender, right?”

  “He is. He’s also my closest friend. We’ve known each other for many years. He owns a part of Surrender. In addition, we have several other businesses we own together.”

  I have no idea what specifically Master Roman owns or what he does. He has clients. I’m pretty sure he manages their portfolios. That’s all I know.

  “He and his two housemates, Levi and Beck, are coming to dinner tonight. Another friend of mine named Claudia will also be here. I expect you to join us. I’ve instructed Nancy to set out clothes for you. I want you to go ahead upstairs now and have your bath early and then dress for dinner.”

  I stare at Master Roman. This is the first time I’ve felt unsure about our arrangement. It’s one thing to pretend to be twelve alone with Master Roman. It’s stressful enough knowing that his staff is aware of my odd choices in lifestyle. But he’s going to have friends over? Four of them? And what does he mean by “housemates”? That’s an odd description. I’ve met Claudia at Surrender. In addition, I’ve noticed her speaking with Julius. I wondered if they were a couple.

  “Leave your hair the way it is, blossom. You don’t need to take it down or wash it. But I do expect you to shave your pussy. By the time dinner is over, it will be your bedtime. You won’t have time to take your bath then.”

  I swallow, needing to understand better. I can’t stand up for fear my knees will buckle. “Is Claudia Master Julius’s girlfriend?”

  “No.” Master Roman shakes his head, chuckling. “Though I’ve always wondered how the two of them would be if they ever got together. But no. Claudia is an old friend too. Julius and I met her in college. She’s a Domme—a female Dominant—and she’s been in the lifestyle for many years.

  “If you’re worried about what people might think, put it out of your mind. Nothing can shock any of them. They’re friends who have been in the lifestyle for years. I expect you to be on your best behavior and impress my friends with what you’ve learned and what a sweet little girl you are. I specifically picked the four of them to introduce you to society because they will not judge you or us.”

  “Yes, Sir.” I somehow manage to stand. I was wrong earlier. There is something more challenging than not wearing a bra all day. It’s entertaining guests when I’m so new to this lifestyle.

  Master Roman dismisses me by spinning around and returning to his desk. He is seated, intently studying something in front of him, as I pass. I have to concentrate hard to keep my feet spread apart enough so that my thighs don’t rub. It’s been difficult all day, but it requires extra concentration when my brain is occupied with concerns.

  As soon as I’m free of Master Roman’s gaze, I rush down the hallway and then take the back stairs at a near run. When I reach the landing, I nearly collide with Nancy.

  She steadies me with both hands. “Lucy, slow down. It’s not ladylike to run through the house.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I mumble. “I’m sorry, ma’am.” I’m privately praying she doesn’t rat me out to Master Roman.

  “No harm done. But in the future, you should walk. I’ve set clothes out for you for the evening. You’ll find them on your chair. I assume Master Roman has instructed you to take your bath now?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  “Good. You have an hour to get ready. That should be plenty of time.”

  “Yes, ma’am. Thank you.”

  She steps out of my way and I walk as calmly as I can to my bedroom, shutting the door behind me. I’m out of breath. The idea of having dinner with four people I don’t know is daunting. Beyond daunting. And before I even get to that unnerving event, I’m faced with the task of shaving off all my pubic hair.

  I’m so worried about getting it right and not cutting myself that I hurry to the bathroom where I kick off my shoes and then quickly remove the rest of my clothes. I glance through the open bathroom door toward the wicker chair. I can’t tell for sure what’s on the chair, but something is. It’s pink. It’s enough to ensure me it’s okay to drop my clothes down the chute.

  No matter how long I live in this house and occupy this room, it will forever stress me out to release my clothes like that. I certainly can’t retrieve them.

  I turn the water on in the tub and find a hair clip in the bathroom drawer. I use it to pin my braids up on top of my head so they won’t get wet. While I’m waiting for the water to heat and the tub to begin to fill, I stare at myself in the mirror. I look so young with these braids, my face void of all makeup. I’ve never worn a lot of makeup to begin with but seeing myself with no mascara and not even lip gloss adds to my youthful appearance.

  You’re twelve, I remind myself. No one’s dad lets them wear makeup at twelve. I gasp. Dad? Yikes. No. I don’t want to think of him like that.

  I jerk my gaze from the mirror and step into the tub. I decide to quickly wash my body with the cherry-vanilla body soap first, and then I consider how I’m going to accomplish this monumental task. It might have been better if I’d asked Master Roman to do it for me, but I shake that plan out of my head. It would be humiliating.

  I stand and lift one foot to set it on the edge of the tub. With one hand filled with soap, I use it to get a good lather between my legs. And then I take the razor and start shaving.

  I start at the top. My hair is thick, and it’s never been cut. It takes me a while and several passes to get the top of my mound smooth. And then I move lower, spreading my lips apart and trying hard to slide the razor over my skin without cutting myself.

  I’m stressed. My hand is unsteady. I keep pausing to take a breath, wondering if most women do this every day? I’ve never had girlfriends who were close enough to share this kind of information.

  I sit down and rinse my skin and then stand back up and start all over again, certain I have missed a great deal on the first pass. It takes forever, and I’m not convinced it’s good enough to pass Master Roman’s inspection later, but it’s the best I can do, and I’m relieved I haven’t cut my clit off in the process.

  After rinsing and re-rinsing, I let the water run down the drain and then turn it back on to ensure none of my hair gets left stuck in the tub. I would be mortified if Nancy called me out on something like that.

  Finally, I dry off with my towel and hang it back up. I’m worried about the time and grateful that I don’t need to dry and style my hair. I remove the clip, letting the braids fall, and then rush back to the bedroom.

  A glance at the clock tells me I still have twenty minutes. Plenty of time. I pick up the pile of clothes and carry them to the bathroom, shutting the door behind me. I’m thinking this will become a routine. The thought of someone walking in on me naked is too stressful. At least if I’m in the bathroom, I have another layer of protection.

  I set the pink pile on the vanity and then lift the top item. It’s a dress. I hold it in front of me. It’s exactly the kind of dress I wish I could have owned when I was twelve. It’s cut to fit an older me though. I’m both giddy and concerned.

  I’m not sure I’ll ever get used to thinking this fetish of mine is sane. Why would I want to put on this dress and pretend to be a child for the evening with my master’s friends? Have I lost my mind?

  I set the dress aside and confirm there are only two things left for me to put on. White cotton panties with a pink bow at the top and frilly white socks that fold at the ankles. The dress might be a bit younger than what some twe
lve-year-olds would wear, but I love it.

  I step into the panties first, biting my lip when I realize how odd it feels to have my bare sex against the cotton material. Next, I lift the dress and let it slide over my head. The top part is dainty with thin spaghetti straps holding up the satin bodice. It’s meant to be flat against a girl’s chest, so it’s pressing against my breasts after I zip up the side. The satin is thin, and my nipples make obvious bumps underneath. They are so prominent that I’m already squirming.

  The fitted waistline is higher than my actual waist. It sits snuggly against my body a few inches below my breasts. And from there the skirt flairs out. It’s full and light with layers and layers of ruffles. If I twirl, it would flow all around me. It lands a few inches below my butt just as my skirt from earlier did.

  It’s very pretty, and I would be excited to wear it for Master Roman. I’m hesitant about his guests though. I grab the socks and return to the wicker chair to sit down and put them on. The ruffles are very babyish when I fold them over, but that’s when I notice the pair of shoes under the chair.

  Pink flats that are very similar to the pair I already own that are now in some mysterious storage. The toes are rounded; the shoes are patent leather and shiny. I stand, feeling free and nervous at the same time.

  It’s ten minutes until I’m supposed to be downstairs somewhere. I rush back into the bathroom and look at myself in the mirror. I look so young. Younger than twelve. Since I’m also a petite woman, I could almost pass for twelve. There are girls that age who are taller than me. There are probably girls that age with bigger breasts too.

  I turn from the mirror, take a breath, and head toward the hallway.

  Chapter 28

  Lucy

  * * *

  I’m nowhere near in the same rush to get downstairs as I was to hurry upstairs, so I step slowly, listening for people.