by Robin Roseau
I widened my eyes, wondering what lesson that was. My punishment for losing the game?
She patted my cheek. "I am going to teach you just how good it feels to be owned by me."
* * * *
Over the next hours, it seemed like hours, she did exactly what she promised. And I reacted exactly as she said. Nina told me I'd regret playing, and for a long time I did.
But then it changed. And I changed.
* * * *
It was some hours later. I knew it was. Precious gently removed the gag while I lay limp, unable to move. Not that moving would have helped -- I was still on the horse. She'd never moved me.
She pulled the gag from my mouth and caressed my cheek. I lifted my head to look at her. "Yours," I whispered. "Please don't let me go."
She caressed my cheek. "You're very sweet, Brandy."
One Year Later
I left the supermarket, climbed into the car, and pulled onto the road leading to my parents. I hadn't lived here for years, having escaped small town Iowa for the excitement of the big city when I was 23. But still, it was nice to go home from time to time.
And it was nice to see my parents. Mom always gave me fresh cooking lessons, and Dad gave me taking care of a house lessons. Growing up, I'd hated both.
Things change.
I arrived home -- this would always be home. Well, one home, anyway. I carried the groceries inside, taking three trips to do it, Dad arriving to help with the last. Mom met me in the kitchen, and together we began putting things away.
That was when my phone rang. I pulled it out, glanced at it and smiled before answering.
"Hello, Precious."
"Hello, my pet," she purred. "I miss you."
"I miss you, too. Mom was annoyed you didn't come."
"I'm sorry. Look, I just have a minute. Nina and Kendra have challenged us to a game."
"A game." I said it carefully then glanced at Mom. She was acting nonchalant while putting away the groceries, but I knew she was listening to every word. I stepped from the kitchen and headed to my bedroom, closing the door behind me. "What kind of game?" I whispered.
"I told them it was your decision."
"What kind of game?"
"You have to decide if we're playing."
"Oh, God. Sure."
She laughed. "I love you, my pet."
"I love you, too."
"Hurry home."
* * * *
We lost.
Precious didn't seem to mind, and I surely didn't.
About the Author
A writer by avocation, Robin has a renaissance interest in many areas. A bit of a gypsy, Robin has called a few places home and has traveled widely. A love of the outdoors, animals in general and experimenting with world cuisines, Robin and partner share their home with a menagerie of pets and guests, although sometimes it is difficult to discern who is whom.
Robin can be reached via email as [email protected]. Robin's web site is http://www.robin-roseau.com.
Works by Robin Roseau
The Madison Wolves Series
Fox Run
Fox Play
Fox Mate
Fox Afield
Fox Revenge
Fox Dish
Fox Lost
Wolf Watch
Wolf Ways
Wolf Women
Fox Fate
Fox Short Stories
Hunting Pups
Fox in the Water
Fox Rematch (set after Fox Mate and Fox Afield)
Fox Opponent
A Foxy Valentine
Other Books in the Madison Wolves Universe
Familiar
Poor Little Witch Girl
Seer
Seer: Thrall
The Selected Series
Collected
Taken
The Games People Play Series
Stories that ask a simple question: do you want to play a game?
Do You Want to Play a Game?
My Soul to Play (due soon)
Other Novels and Novellas
Blood Slave
A Charming Brew
Emergency Claus
Fitting In
Free to Love
Galatzi Trade
Galatzi World
In Custody
Lost in the Words
Privateer
Stark's Dell
Submission
Surprise
The Interrogation
Tresjolie
The Ski Bindings Shorts
Short stories of love and lust amongst the slopes.
Snow Fox (due soon, I promise)
Short Stories
Cooking for Love
Southern Night
Captured by the Raptor (writing as Rosetta Robins)
Do You Want to Play a Game?
Copyright 2015 by Robin Roseau
All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval system, copied in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise transmitted without written permission from the publisher. You must not circulate this book in any format.
This is a work of fiction. Names, places, businesses, characters and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, actual events or locales is purely coincidental.
* * *
License Notes
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