The Romantic Dominant

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The Romantic Dominant Page 13

by Maggie Carpenter


  Pulling away from her he wrapped his fingers around her upper arms and locked her eyes.

  “Abby, you cannot do that. Please think about this, you are my sweet slave. Slaves are not permitted to come and go as they please, or choose their punishment. Slaves are always locked up for the night. Perhaps you are not suited to be my slave, to be loved, and cherished, and let’s not forget, disciplined, which clearly you need very badly.”

  “I’m sorry,” she whimpered.

  “If you wish to be my sweet slave and reap all the joy and pleasure, then you must adhere to my methods. I will spank you often, you will obey me, you will not question me. I will also buy you lovely things and provide for you. You won’t have to work anymore, everything will be taken care of.”

  “Really? You mean, I can quit my job?” she asked, the thought of leaving the boring office a beacon of light in her grey and confused state.

  “Of course,” he smiled, knowing the large carrot would be virtually impossible to resist. “As my sweet slave your job is to look after me and take care of my house. You can’t do that if you’re working. I would never expect you to do that.”

  “I’d live here, in this house?”

  “Abby, what did you think?”

  “I’m sorry, Sir, I didn’t understand.”

  “Do you understand now?”

  “Yes, I do, and yes, I would love that. I guess I was just confused.”

  “If you question me again I will punish you very severely,” he frowned.

  “I won’t, I promise.”

  “I love your body, Abby, it’s glorious, and almost every night I will devour your gorgeous tits, but I hope I won’t have to drug you to make you behave.”

  “Oh, no, Sir. You won’t. I understand now, really I do, but may I ask a question?”

  “Yes. I don’t wish to have any further disputes with you.”

  “Can I sleep with you, in the same bed?”

  “That is a great privilege, and will take time for you to earn,” he lied.

  “I understand,” she sighed.

  “Every night you will be locked in your room, as a proper slave should be. Do you have any further questions?”

  “I don’t think so, Sir.”

  “Good, because I have to go to my office, but before I leave I wish to give you pleasure,” he smiled, moving his hand across her thigh. “Pleasure is also a privilege, and really I shouldn’t, but I’m going to indulge you because you’re just learning. Take off your nightie and lay down, legs spread apart and arms above your head.”

  Still bleary-eyed and tired but greatly relieved, Abigail quickly removed the night dress and splayed herself open.

  “You’re quite lovely,” he commented standing up, and dropping his hand to her breasts he fondled and squeezed, sharply pinching her nipples. “Yes, they’re quite luscious.”

  “Thank you, Sir,” she breathed, and in spite of vague warning bells quietly ringing in the back of her head, she allowed herself to become warmed by his attention.

  Opening his bag he withdrew leather ankle cuffs which he quickly put in place and secured to the corners of the bed, and her wrists he bound together with nylon cord and tied above her head. The entire process took less than a minute.

  “Comfortable?” he asked, running his hand along the inside of her thigh.

  “Yes, Sir?” she whispered.

  Returning to his bag he retrieved a short, fat riding crop sporting a leather tongue shaped like a hand, a black blindfold and a large vibrator. Her orgasm would be powerful and thrilling, but it wasn’t for her pleasure; it designed to heighten her sense of security so when the truth was revealed, her anguish would be that much more painful and give him greater satisfaction.

  After slipping the blindfold over her eyes, he began sliding the leather tongue across her inner thighs eliciting the moan he was expecting, then slapped it against the soft, milky skin. The cry of pain was also expected, and he continued, moving ever closer to her vulnerable cunt. He’d used the technique many times before, but he wasn’t bored, and he realized he was finding Slut Abby quite entertaining.

  Moving the crop between her legs he tapped it against her sex, increasing the force of the tiny swats until she was moaning and gasping, then touching his fingers between her lips he found her gratifyingly wet. Dropping the crop back in his bag, he withdrew the large, powerful vibrator and nestled it against her sex.

  “Are you going to be good from now on?” he asked sternly.

  “Yes, Sir, I will. I just didn’t understand.”

  “You don’t deserve this amount of pleasure after the way you behaved last night, but I’m a very kind Master so I am going to indulge you, but I warn you, Abby, do not test me again. Understood?”

  “Yes, Sir, definitely, Sir.”

  Her hips began wriggling and squirming against the large, oval knob, anticipating it’s gift, and when he flicked the switch, bringing it to life, she let out a sharp cry of elation. Holding it firmly in place as she squirmed and moaned, he watched the powerful vibrations send her to the edge of the cliff, but when he sensed she was about to take flight he blithely turned it off.

  “Ooooh” she wailed. “Ooooh, I was there, I was there.”

  “As I said, I’m not sure you deserve it. Why should I allow you such orgasmic splendor when you rejected me?”

  “I’m so sorry, Sir, really. I’m so, so sorry. I just didn’t understand,” she bleated.

  “Hmmm. As I said I’m a very kind Master but I still need to punish you. I will let you enjoy this moment, but I think I shall keep you in this room for the rest of the day. I’m going to leave you a pen and paper and you’re to write me a very sincere, apologetic letter, explaining why you want to be here. Clear?”

  “Yes, Sir,” she gasped.

  “And Abby, it’s Master from now on. I am your Master and you are my slave.”

  “Yes, Master,” she whimpered.

  “You’re to outline in the letter that you understand that I’m in charge, that you’re here because you want to be, that you adore me and live to please me. Now ask me nicely to continue your pleasure.”

  “Please, Master, if you allow me to climax I will try to become the best slave you’ve ever had.”

  “That was agreeable. Yes, you may have your orgasm.”

  “Thank you, Master. Thank you.”

  He flicked on the switch, and pressing the thick, heavy wand against her craving cunt he watched her writhe and moan, knowing her release would be overwhelming and she would sleep through most of the morning.

  Once at his office he would turn on the monitors and watch her as she wrote the letter, a necessity should he ever be accused of holding her against her will, then observe her impatience and pangs of hunger throughout the day as she waited for him to come home.

  When he returned he would placate her, forgive her, then spank her, and come all over her plump, round, red bottom, and she’d cook, and he’d have his goodnight feast upon her tits, and all would be well with the world.

  Her orgasmic cries broke him from his reverie, and he looked down to see her naked body contorting on the bed, a bright red flush crossing her chest and neck, her nipples puckered and rigid. She was wailing, her body shuddering through the convulsions, and he held the vibrator in place until her wails dropped to whimpers.

  Turning it off he dropped it in his bag, removed her shackles and blindfold, held her for a few minutes, then leaving the pad and pen on her small desk he walked from the room, locking it behind him.

  That went well. I really must have you do these floors tomorrow. Your mounds are divine, and your ass is lovely too, but you’re still just a gold-digging slut and you’ll be treated as such.

  As he headed into his bedroom to change, he decided his first port of call would be her apartment. He’d do a thorough search and bring back a few bits and pieces for her to wear. Things were looking up. Slut Abby was settled in, and he was sure he’d find the Brazilian Bitch at some point. She�
��d make a mistake, and when she did he’d be waiting.

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  With a protective arm around her shoulders, Zander walked a shaken Gabriela into the living room and sat her on the couch.

  “This is unbelievable,” he declared.

  “You still haven’t told me why he’s on your computer,” Gabriela pressed.

  “I’m almost afraid to. I’m just stunned, I really am. It’s so much to process.”

  “You think you’re stunned? How do you think I felt when I turned on the screen and that maniac was staring back at me,” she exclaimed, her green eyes blazing.

  “I am so sorry,” he apologized, hugging her tightly, “and I feel terrible that it’s upset you but I’m glad you saw it. Who knows long it might have taken you to mention his name, and for reasons I’m about to tell you I’m very glad it happened.”

  “I’m probably overreacting,” she mumbled. “It was just such a shock.”

  “Of course it was and I can totally understand why it’s unnerved you.”

  “So, tell me, how do you know him? Why was he on your computer?”

  “Connor Matthews is an architect, which you know, and I’m a builder. I’ve never met him but I’m certainly familiar with his work, but there’s more, and this is not good,” he frowned.

  “It’s okay. I’m all right now.”

  “I had a couple of dates with a young woman, her name is Abigail, and she was very naive and trusting, and-”

  “She’s not going out with him?” Gabriela asked, alarm in her voice.

  “The last time I saw her I told her to let me know if she was meeting anyone new off the internet, just for her own safety. She left me a couple of messages that she was meeting Connor Matthews.”

  “Oh, this is terrible,” Gabriela groaned.

  “I looked him up because I was curious, and when I saw his picture and realized his age and all his achievements it left me wondering. Why would Connor Matthews be interested in a girl so young and inexperienced? She was too young for me, and Connor is older than I am.”

  “His slut-slaves, that’s what he calls his victims,” Gabriela grimaced. “He would go into these rants where he would pace up and down and talk for an hour or more, telling me all about them. I was an aberration. He didn’t take me because he wanted me to be one of his slaves, he took me out of revenge and spite.”

  “I have to call her,” Zander exclaimed, and was about to jump to his feet when Gabriela grabbed his arm.

  “No, don’t. If she’s with him he’ll be monitoring any calls or texts that come into her cell,” she declared. “He never learned about you because your number was blocked and you didn’t use any names on the voice mail, but he questioned me at length. I just insisted it was a wrong number. That’s why I had to cut you off.”

  “Gabriela,” he sighed, shaking his head.

  “It’s okay,” she replied. “We have to focus on getting your young friend away from him, if she’s there that is, and then figure out how to put him out of business.”

  “That part’s easy, the police will take care of him,” Zander exclaimed.

  “I told you before, you can’t go to the police,” she declared, shaking her head.

  Zander raised his eyebrows.

  “You need to explain that,” he urged. “What happened with the police?”

  “The moment I had the chance I took a cab to the nearest police station,” she began. “I was wearing one of those stupid wigs of course, and I burst in, shaking and scared, and told the man behind the desk that I was being held against my will by Connor Matthews. He immediately called in a detective, and I thought, great, someone to help me, but it turned out the detective was only there to keep me talking while the guy behind the desk called Connor. It was awful. When Connor walked in the door I almost had a heart attack. I didn’t know he was tracking me, and he was already on his way when they reached him. He told them I was his schizophrenic cousin and off my meds.”

  “You have got to be kidding me,” Zander replied, bewildered at the shortsightedness of the police.

  “Nope, and it was on the drive home that he threatened to hurt my nephew, Nicholas, if I ever tried to get away again. He’s only five, and Connor said it would look like an accident, and if Nicholas wasn’t killed he’d be very badly injured. I didn’t quite believe him, but I couldn’t take the chance,” she finished.

  “Holy crap,” he sighed. “I don’t know what to say.”

  “You can’t go to the police,” she repeated. “Absolutely not.”

  “I don’t mean to sound like a recording, but this is so much to process.”

  “We have to think about your friend,” Gabriela reminded him. “Do you know where she works?”

  “At a dentist’s office. It was a Dr. Tennison in mid-city.”

  “Let’s call her there. You can talk to her safely.”

  “Brilliant,” he exclaimed. “I’ll have that number in my call log, but it might be faster to just look him up online.”

  Together they hurried back to his study, he pulled up a chair for her, then sitting down he powered up the computer to search out the dentist.

  “You evil monster,” Gabriela hissed as Connor’s image flashed on the screen.

  “You okay?” he asked.

  “Yes, I’m fine,” she assured him.

  He googled the dentist, found him immediately, and picking up his phone he dialed the number.

  “Dr. Tennison’s office, how may I help you.”

  The voice on the end of the telephone was older, and definitely not Abigail.

  “I’m trying to reach your receptionist, Abigail Miller,” he said casually.

  “She no longer works here,” came the curt reply.

  “Really? I’m a friend of hers. She didn’t mention anything about changing jobs,” he remarked, hoping to extricate some information.

  “If you’re a friend of hers, when you talk to her you might want to tell her that texting in a resignation with no notice does not make for a good reference,” the woman declared tersely.

  “Thank you, I will. Sorry to have bothered you,” he replied politely.

  “What?” Gabriela asked.

  “She texted in her resignation, effective immediately,” he frowned, hanging up the phone.

  “Oh, dear.”

  “Yes,” Zander sighed. “Oh, dear.”

  “What are we going to do?” she asked, staring at him intently.

  “I need to think about this. I’m going to take my shower. Why don’t you finish what you had planned before you saw Connor’s photo? I’ll call and make your appointment with the salon, then we can take off and talk about this as we’re driving.”

  “Okay,” she agreed, then paused. “Zander, I just had a thought.”

  “What’s that?”

  “He has cameras all over the house, but he goes to work every day. I figured out the monitors must be in his office.”

  “You’re right, and I wonder if he keeps recordings,” Zander replied.

  “I’ll just bet he does, recordings of his favorite moments,” she agreed.

  “His office. That’s the place to start,” he nodded, “and I’m already getting some ideas.”

  “You are? Tell me.”

  “I will, but after I get myself together. Do me a favor, while you’re doing your thing on the computer write down the address of Connor’s office for me,” and impulsively he leaned across and kissed her. “Don’t you worry, we’re going to get him,” he promised. “You can count on it.”

  Rising from his desk he made his way back to the bedroom, and dropping his robe, stepped into the shower for the second time that morning.

  Connor Matthews, he silently vowed, you have victimized a woman for the last time.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  Abigail had woken up with a massive headache, but after finding some aspirin in the medicine cabinet and placing a cold washcloth across her forehead it had slowly passed. She’d wanted a long,
relaxing bath, but discovered she only had a shower, and though she’d been disappointed, the water splashing over her had brightened her up and she’d set about writing the letter of apology.

  He had taken her watch and there was no clock in the bedroom, but by the time she finished she guessed it was the middle of the afternoon. She was starving, and ended up drinking glasses of water to help curb the hunger.

  Some time later, staring out the darkly glazed windows, she guessed it was early evening. Sighing, she sat on the edge of the bed and dropped her head in her hands.

  I had no idea having a Master would be like this. I just have to be strong and try really hard to make him happy. It’ll be wonderful not having to go to that boring job every day. I can’t wait to go out to dinner with him, and the parties he talked about.

  The promise of a new way of life perked her up, and when she heard the sound of a car she rushed to the window. It overlooked the driveway at the side of the house and to her joy she saw the Porsche pulling into the garage. While searching through the bathroom drawers she had found a comb, and running to fetch it, she ran it through her hair, wiped her face with the washcloth and sat anxiously on the bed to wait.

  I wish I had my clothes. I wonder what he did with them. I want to get out of this nightgown.

  The sound of his footsteps in the hall broke into her thoughts, and when she heard the key turning in the lock her heart jumped. The door slowly opened and he stepped inside.

  “Master,” she cried, running across to hug him. “I’m so happy to see you. I’ve written the letter, and I’ve thought about things all day, and I know I can be better now that I understand what you want.”

  “I’m very happy to hear it,” he replied. So satisfying to come home and find a needy slut-slave waiting for me. A far cry from that Brazilian Bitch. “Go and kneel by the bed.”

  Stepping back into the hallway he reached for the suitcase and garment bag he’d brought with him.

  “I did something for you today,” he declared, dropping the suitcase and throwing the garment bag on the bed. “I stopped by your place and picked up some clothes for you, and your makeup and cosmetics. I want you to look good for me.”

 

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