by Marie Haynes
“Choose your implement,” Mr. Devonshire commanded.
Alicia looked at him questioningly. “I don’t understand, sir.”
“This companion wanted to physically harm you. I expect my companions to be accommodating, gracious, adept and honest. I also expect them to be considerate of each other. She has failed at all of these simple tasks. You, my dear, will administer her consequence. Questions?” he asked.
Alicia shook her head slowly as understanding dawned on her. Walking to the implement wall, she carefully perused the display of whips, paddles, canes, floggers and cats. Fully understanding the effect of each device, Alicia chose a cat—one made of soft suede and lacking the end knots. If properly delivered, the lashing would leave Megan’s arse sore and red, but unmarked.
“Proceed,” Mr. Devonshire encouraged.
Reaching back her arm, Alicia delivered the first blow and jumped almost as much as Megan did.
Goodness! Being on this end of the whip is certainly a different feeling.
“How many stripes would you like me to deliver, sir?” she asked.
“As many as you choose. Just try to keep them even,” Maverick directed.
Alicia nodded and continued, enjoying the feeling of power she suddenly was wielding. After only ten blows—five to each cheek—Megan began to cry. Alicia ignored the girl’s rantings and continued until her beautiful arse glowed red. After fifty strokes, Alicia dropped the whip, exhausted.
“Release her,” Maverick suggested.
Alicia looked over at him, sitting in a wing-backed chair casually sipping a Bloody Mary.
Breathing heavily, Alicia did so then stood aside, awaiting further direction. She felt incredible. While she couldn’t say she enjoyed administering the consequence, she had experienced a surge of power, control.
“Come before me, both of you,” Maverick said.
The two women complied, one with tears streaming down her face, both with bowed heads.
“Megan, what do you have to say now?”
She raised her head and addressed him. “I’m sorry to have disappointed you, sir. I will do whatever necessary to redeem myself.”
Alicia noted she had not apologised for her actions but rather for disappointing Maverick.
“Good. I have a special assignment for both of you. It will take cooperation on both of your parts as well as a bit of research on yours, Alicia.” He set down his Bloody Mary. “I would like you to prepare a very special meal.”
“Certainly, sir. I’d be honoured,” she answered truthfully.
“You will prepare this meal for next Friday night. I will be expecting five guests, but you should prepare enough for seven since you and Megan will also be in attendance,” he continued.
“I understand,” she responded, though with an uncertain note in her voice.
Megan had also raised her eyebrows and cocked her head, clearly confused.
Mr. Devonshire leaned forward and began to tweak Alicia’s nipple while he continued his directives.
“The meal will be made up entirely of aphrodisiacs. I know the scientific world does not support the validity of such foods, but even if their value cannot be proven, the psychosomatic effect will, I’m sure, prove to be quite interesting, don’t you think?”
“Yes, sir, I do.” Already Alicia’s mind was spinning with possibilities. “I’ll need to do some research, but I believe I can do it.”
Maverick continued to twist her nipples into erectness while never taking his eyes off of her face.
“Mr. Devonshire,” Megan asked quietly, “what will be my role?”
Maverick shifted his gaze to her and said, “You, my dear, will serve the guests—in any way they desire.”
Megan lowered her eyes quickly and nodded. “Of course, sir.”
“You are dismissed, Megan.”
Megan’s eyes flew to him and she began to open her mouth then obviously thought better of it. She nodded once and turned to leave. Alicia kept her focus on Mr. Devonshire, barely noticing the sound of the shutting door.
“Did you enjoy the consequence?” Mr. Devonshire asked, his fingers continually rubbing the pink buds.
“No, sir, I can’t say that I did,” she answered truthfully.
“Then why continue as long as you did?” He released her left breast and ran his hand along her side.
“Because,” she whispered, “a good companion must learn her place. She must admit her mistakes,” she gasped as his hand found its way to her clit, “and willingly accept reprimand.” She closed her eyes, allowing the warmth to circulate throughout her body.
“Go on,” he encouraged.
“Megan erred. Besides,” Alicia fought to formulate words with the delightful distraction of Maverick’s fingers probing inside of her, “she has a lovely behind. I knew you would appreciate the sight of it nicely reddened.”
“Very interesting,” he said, nibbling on her ear. “So even in the dominant position, you sought to please me.”
“Please, sir, please,” Alicia begged, “take me.”
She heard a low chuckle deep in Maverick’s throat. Suddenly he stood and swept her up in his arms. Alicia’s cry of surprise was swallowed in the deep kiss Maverick drew from her. He carried her to the bed, gently placing her onto the soft mattress. He moved on top of her, positioning his legs between her thighs. With excruciating slowness, Maverick eased himself into Alicia’s welcoming tunnel. She tipped her head back, a primal sound growing in her throat. Not one to waste an opportunity, Maverick swooped down and ran his tongue along her neck, moving his hips to meet hers. Alicia felt the world dissolve. She no longer felt the cold silver hoop pressed against her back. Her still tender arse, gripped by Maverick’s strong hands, no longer hurt. The features of the room faded as Maverick took a nipple into his mouth, sucking it to life.
“Gentle and sweet can also be tortuous, my darling,” Maverick said as he released her bud and pulled out of her. Alicia grasped his shoulders, protesting his loss. Maverick began to kiss her stomach, her hips, her thighs. Without thought, Alicia thrashed on the bed, clenching and unclenching her hands. Just when she knew she would lose her mind, Maverick plunged his tongue into her honey pot, sucking the warm juices, tasting her soul. Purple, pink and magenta exploded in Alicia’s mind as the orgasm washed over her, and she bucked against his mouth, her body seeking more. Suddenly it was no longer his sweet, soft tongue inside of her but his hard, brilliant staff. Maverick supported himself with his hands and loomed over her, driving his hips into her over and over again, throwing his head back and crying out as he spilled his seed deeply inside of her.
Collapsing on top of her, Maverick rolled to his side, exhausted. Alicia needed a moment to catch her breath.
Without thinking, she marvelled, “Maverick, that was pure and total beauty.”
“Yes,” he agreed sleepily, reaching for her. “It certainly was.”
Alicia, not wanting the moment to end, scooted downwards. Kneeling on the bed, she reverently lifted his dripping manhood and gently licked it clean. Maverick reached down and began to rub her head, lulling her into relaxation. Still Alicia felt the need to show her gratitude, so rather than crawl back up to lie beside him, she snuggled against his stomach, reaching down to massage his legs. There she felt her head rise and fall with each breath from her Master. Only when his breathing became steady and even did Alicia give in and allow herself to drift off to sleep.
Chapter Twelve
Fluffy Scrambled Eggs
2 eggs, separated
Salt
Pepper
1 Tablespoon milk
1 Tablespoon Parmesan cheese
1 dash hot sauce
1 Tablespoon butter
Whip egg whites until light and foamy but not too stiff. Blend egg yolks with all other ingredients. Melt butter in a small skillet. While butter is melting, blend yolks with egg whites. Pour into hot skillet. Cook until firm.
For the next two days, Alicia poured over th
e Internet and cookbooks, trying to come up with a menu full of only Aphrodisiac foods. The obvious appetiser—oysters on the half-shell—was out because of Maverick’s shellfish allergy. After beginning on her research, though, Alicia discovered this would not be such a problem. Who knew there were so many aphrodisiac foods out there? So for an appetiser, she decided to arrange figs and strawberries drizzled with honey on decorative plates. This would then be followed by carrot soup flavoured with nutmeg, for dessert she would serve dark chocolate petit fours decorated with blue sugar morning glories. For the moment, though, an idea for the main course escaped her.
After an hour of staring at the computer screen, Alicia put her hand up to her forehead. She suddenly felt terrible. Sure enough, her skin felt clammy and hot. Great, just great. She definitely did not need to be getting sick now. She trudged into the bathroom and rummaged about for her thermometer. Sticking it into her mouth, she began to notice her aching body—and this time the pain had nothing to do with pleasure. She groaned after reading the thermometer—she definitely had a fever. Grabbing a bottle of aspirin, she went into the kitchen for a glass of water. After swallowing two pills, she got undressed and climbed into bed, falling into a restless sleep.
Later that afternoon, the phone rang, jarring Alicia to a shaky consciousness.
“‘Lo?” she said groggily.
“Alicia?”
Her eyes popped open. “Yes, Mr. Debonthire?” she slurred.
“Are you alright?” Maverick quickly asked.
“Fine, jus’ fine. I think. I can’t really remember. I think I might be sick,” Alicia mumbled.
“I’ll be right there.”
“But I can’t come today, Thir! I think I might be thick. I don’t want to get you thick!” she said to a dial tone. Carefully, she hung up the phone. What had he said? Did he want her to drive to his house? No, that wasn’t it. Maybe she should just wait for another call. That sounded like a plan. Soon she’d get up and take a shower, get ready…soon.
A heavy banging roused her. What the hell was making all that noise? Groggily, Alicia stood up. Running her hand along the wall, she managed to stay upright long enough to stumble into the kitchen. There she stood in amazement. Standing at her stove was Maverick—cooking.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Maverick whipped his head around at the sound of her voice, a frown forming on his face.
“What are you doing out of bed?” he returned, wiping his hands on a towel and rushing to her. Grasping her by the shoulders, he turned her about face and walked her back to the bedroom.
“I don’t understand,” Alicia mumbled.
“Simple, my dear,” he answered. “I called with the idea that we could have a night together, but when it became apparent you were ill, I came to take care of you instead.”
Alicia simply blinked at him. Why was he speaking so loudly?
“You’re burning up.” He turned her back towards the bedroom. “Let’s get you back in bed and out of these clothes.”
Alicia sat mutely on the bed as Maverick gently removed her clothing and tucked her under the covers. Her mind was swimming in and out of consciousness, but later she vaguely remembered warm broth running down her throat and a cool cloth bathing her body. Most welcome, though, were the strong arms that held her when her body shook with chills and the deep voice murmuring soft words to her fevered mind. Finally she fell into a deep sleep.
When Alicia awoke, she sat up in bed, confused by the bright sunlight streaming through her window and the sound of voices coming from her kitchen. She frowned, hearing female laughter. Realising she was naked, she grabbed a robe and shakily stood up, holding onto the wall for support as she trudged into the kitchen.
“Wow! The dead has arisen!” Ivory gently teased. “Come here, honey. Sit down. Let me get you some tea.”
“Ivory, when did you get here?” Alicia asked. “And Maverick—did you stay all night?”
Maverick held out a chair and helped her into it. “I called Ivory this morning to cancel the shoot. You were still sleeping and I didn’t want to leave you alone.”
“And I, being such a wonderful person,” Ivory winked as she handed Alicia a steaming cup of tea, “rushed right over to help. You look like hell, kid.”
“You should have seen her last night. Scared the daylights out of me,” Maverick added.
“Well that’s your own fault. If you weren’t so besotted with her, you wouldn’t care so much. Besides, you’ve probably exhausted the poor thing. It’s nice, really, when you think about it,” Ivory retorted.
“Hey,” Alicia interjected. “I’m sitting right here. You don’t need to talk around me!”
“Getting some spirit back. I’d say she’s on the road to recovery,” Ivory said, completely ignoring Alicia’s comment.
“Good. I was about an inch away from carting her off to hospital last night,” Maverick said, shovelling in a mouthful of eggs.
Alicia, realising it was useless to complain, sat back in her chair and sipped her tea. While she still felt like a truck had run her over, the fever was gone. From experience, she knew her body would bounce back quickly. In the meantime she’d just sit back and enjoy the companionship. Suddenly, someone was quietly knocking on the door. When she started to get up, Maverick put a hand on her shoulder and rose to answer it himself.
“Looks like you have another concerned guest, my dear,” he announced, walking back into the kitchen with Paul behind him.
“Feeling better, luv?” Paul asked as he dropped a kiss on the top of her head.
“Much, thank you. How did you know I was ill?”
“Ivory called after she heard. Thought I’d bring over something to make you feel better.”
“Now what could possibly make me feel better than having all the people I care about here?” Alicia responded.
“Isn’t she sweet?” Ivory added, picking up a piece of bacon and popping it into her mouth.
“Actually, I’ve tasted her and yes, she is very sweet,” Paul joked.
Alicia was startled for a moment, then smiled as all three friends burst into laughter.
“My dear mum swears this is the cure for all illness—orange juice!” He pulled a bag of oranges from behind his back as if he were a magician. “Let me at a knife and a pitcher and I’ll have you a nice glass of fresh juice in a moment.”
Nibbling on her breakfast, which Ivory had cooked, and drinking the freshly squeezed juice, Alicia felt nothing but warmth and contentment. This was indeed the life she had always dreamed of. Easy companionship, a welcoming home where friends dropped by often. She stayed fairly quiet while the other three discussed politics, trends in the art world, the weather. It didn’t really matter what they were talking about, just so long as they were there.
“Looks like the princess needs her beauty sleep,” Paul commented when he caught Alicia in a yawn. “Maverick, Ivory, I know you two had a shoot scheduled for today, so why don’t I stay with her and you two run along.”
Maverick and Ivory glanced at each other before Maverick spoke.
“What do you think, Alicia? I won’t leave you alone yet, but we are on a deadline. Still, I’ll stay here if you want me to,” he said solicitously.
“Don’t be silly, Maverick. I’ll be fine. Really, I recover quickly. Go do your work. I’ll just nap a bit more and probably be perfectly fine by tonight.” She smiled reassuringly.
“If you’re sure, then,” he said. “I’ll just see you to bed then take off. Paul, if she needs anything, let me know. Okay?”
“Of course, but don’t worry. I’ll take good care of her.” Paul patted his shoulder and started to clear away the dishes.
When Alicia woke up from her nap, she again put on her robe and wandered into the living room. She smiled, seeing Paul scrunched up on the couch, snoring away. Rather than wake him, she went into the kitchen and got herself another glass of juice. She was still a bit tired, but overall felt much better. Paul’s mum
was right. The orange juice was a miracle cure.
“Thought I heard you,” Paul said as he walked up behind her. He wrapped an arm around her waist and placed his hand against her forehead. “No fever now.”
“I know,” she said, turning around to face him. “Between my natural ability to heal quickly and the juice, I think I’m well on the road to recovery.”
“Good! Why don’t we sit for a while and you tell Uncle Paul what you’ve been up to lately.”
Alicia happily followed Paul into the living room and curled up next to him, leaning against his shoulder.
“Well, I’ve been working on putting together an Aphrodisiac dinner for Maverick, but it has posed some challenges. I know there will be five guests, but I don’t know who they are, so I can’t tailor the menu to their tastes. Also, because of his shellfish allergy, I can’t use oysters, so I’m not sure what to do about a main course,” she began.
“Umm, that does present an interesting dilemma,” Paul commented. “Perhaps I can assist.”
“How?”
“Would it help to know that I am one of the guests?”
Alicia cocked her head so she could see him. “Paul! That’s wonderful!”
“Good. Would it also help to know that Ivory is another guest?” he continued.
Alicia paused a moment. “Are you sure you should be telling me this? I mean, if Maverick hasn’t told me, maybe he doesn’t really want me to know.”
“My dear,” Paul smiled, “am I not your second? I’m sure it just slipped Maverick’s mind. Sometimes the man gets so wrapped up in his camera that he forgets a world exists outside of his lenses.”
Alicia frowned, wondering if Paul were criticising Maverick or simply making a comment. Obviously noticing her discomfort, Paul laughed and gently mussed her hair.
“Stop worrying, Alicia. Maverick and I have been friends for long enough to know each other very well. Ivory too. Do you know that Maverick and I met in grammar school? And Ivory has been his model for the last five years.”