He led her into the bathroom, and they brushed their teeth in the dual sinks.
Ruby walked toward the toilet, but before she could sit down, Evan said, “Slave girls need permission to pee, remember?”
Oops. She’d forgotten sharing that detail of her fantasy with him. “Please, Sir,” she said as submissively as she could, “May I use the toilet?”
“No.”
She startled. “What?”
“No, you may not use the toilet. You may stand in the tub and pee in front of me.”
She pursed her lips, about to remind him of her limit of no golden showers, but this didn’t really fit that definition. Her bladder protested again, and she climbed into the tub and faced him. She couldn’t decide whether she was aroused or irritated.
Evan stood watching her intently, his hands on his hips.
She spread her legs and willed her bladder to release. Her usual lack of self-consciousness deserted her. She really had to go, but for some reason she couldn’t, not with him staring at her. How did guys do it all the time in front of each other in public bathrooms? She closed her eyes, willing herself to relax.
“Open your eyes,” Evan snapped. “Keep them on my face while you pee.”
A wave of heat washed over her cheeks. She hadn’t blushed this much since she was a teenager. She forced herself to obey, fixing him with a defiant stare. Finally, her bladder cooperated, and a stream of urine splashed down between her legs.
When she was done, Evan reached over and turned on the hot and cold water. He climbed into the tub and pulled the shower curtain closed. Reaching around her, he moved the lever from bath to shower.
As the warm water cascaded over them, Evan pulled Ruby into his arms and kissed her mouth. She wrapped her arms around his neck as he cupped her ass. After a while, they parted, and Evan pressed lightly on Ruby’s left shoulder. “Kneel and wash my body, slave.” He handed her the bar of soap.
“Yes, Master,” she said, unable to suppress a grin. Rubbing her hands all over that hard, sexy body would be a pleasure. She soaped up his strong legs and then cradled his balls as she washed his cock. Despite his recent orgasm, it stiffened and lengthened at her touch. Pleased, she continued to stroke and tease it until he pushed her hands away. “Focus on your task, slut,” he said with a laugh.
She got to her feet and soaped the rest of his body as he washed his own hair. When she was done, he took the soap from her and said, “Now, it’s your turn. I’m going to wash and groom you.”
“Groom me?” she asked, lifting her eyebrows.
“That’s right. I’m going to shave those sweet pubic curls away, not because they displease me, but because a slave girl should provide full access to her Master. I want to be able to see your cunt better.”
Ruby frowned. She had never cared for the current trend. Hers was a woman’s body, and she was proud of it. She shook her head. “No, I don’t think—”
Evan cut her off by placing two fingers over her lips.
“You don’t need to think, slave. You just need to do as you’re told. We have a verbal contract, remember? You promised to obey my every dictate during this experiment. It pleases me to shave your cunt. Are you refusing to comply with your Master’s wishes?”
Ruby’s protest died in her mouth as she stared up at him. The easygoing rogue was nowhere in evidence. A stern Master had somehow taken his place. His expression was serious, his gray-green eyes boring into her soul as he waited for her response.
Of course, she could refuse and that would be that. But he was right. They were either all in, or they weren’t. Evan had offered her the chance to finally realize the darkest, most secret sexual fantasy of her life, and she owed it to him—to herself—to give it her best shot. And it was only hair, after all. It would grow back. “I’m sorry, Sir. You’re right. I’ll do better.”
“Good girl.” Evan reached for the soap. His sure hands sent shivers of pleasure over her skin as he lathered her body and then washed her hair.
She would have liked to pull him down into the tub so she could straddle that hard, gorgeous cock and ride herself to orgasm. Aware that wouldn’t be behavior becoming of a slave girl, she instead stood docilely as he rinsed her hair beneath the spray.
When he was done, he turned off the water, opened the curtain and climbed out of the tub. He handed Ruby a towel and then reached for another, which he wrapped around his waist.
As Ruby towel-dried her hair and body, Evan took another towel and laid it on the counter between the two sinks. He turned on the hot water in one of the sinks and dropped a fresh washcloth into it.
Turning back to her, he said, “Come sit up here for your grooming.”
Swallowing her trepidation, Ruby wrapped her hair in the towel and stepped out of the tub into the steamy room. Evan helped her up onto the counter.
Reaching into his shaving kit, he took out a small pair of barber shears. He stood in front of her and pulled some of her pubic hair taut with his left hand. He snipped the curls and tossed them into the small trashcan under the sinks. Ruby tried not to twitch as he worked. Finally, he rinsed the shears and set them aside.
Returning to his shaving bag, he extracted a disposable razor and removed its plastic covering. He set it in the sink and again reached in the bag, this time taking out a small can of shaving cream. He squirted some onto his fingers and smeared it over her shorn mons.
“Scoot to the edge of the counter and keep your legs spread wide.”
“Yes, Sir,” she whispered, both fascinated and nervous at what he was doing.
He took the razor from the hot water and drew the blades carefully over her flesh, leaving baby-pink skin behind. He rinsed the blade and stroked again, scraping away the hair until she was smooth.
“Now for the tricky part,” he said, crouching in front of her. “Stay very still so I don’t nick you.”
Ruby swallowed hard. He’d been very gentle up to this point, but this was intricate work, and if it had to be done, she’d rather do it herself. “Please, Sir,” she began, “can I—”
“No, you cannot,” he interrupted, cutting her off. “I know what I’m doing. Submit to the process.”
This is what I wanted, she reminded herself.
“Yes, Sir,” she said aloud.
His touch was delicate, the razor gliding smoothly over her folds. When he was done, he gave her a hand mirror for her to see the change. She stared down at her shaven pussy. She didn’t look at all like a little girl, as she’d feared. Her labia were swollen, the folds dark pink, a hint of moisture at her entrance. They looked like orchid petals. “Wow,” she breathed. “That’s kind of cool.”
Evan grinned. “It’s kind of beautiful, is what it is.” He took a small bottle of baby oil from his shaving kit and squirted some onto his hand. He massaged the oil over her mons and labia, his fingers moving sensually over her hard, aching clit. As he stroked her, she moaned, the pleasure rapidly mounting inside her. “Oh, god,” she breathed. “It feels so good, Evan. So, so, so good…”
He rubbed faster, making her pant with pleasure.
“Please, Sir,” she gasped, delighted with herself for remembering the rules, even in the face of the powerful orgasm about to engulf her. “May I come?”
All at once, he pulled his hand away. “No, slave. You may not.”
~*~
Evan watched the play of emotions moving over her face, from confusion to outrage to acceptance, if grudging, within the space of a few seconds. She pressed her lips together in a thin line and looked down. Obviously, she didn’t have the mindset of a true slave, but he had to give her points for trying.
He was impressed and pleased she’d let him shave her, and while he would have enjoyed making her come, his online crash course in slave training had taught him that it didn’t do to let a slave come too often during training. They had to earn their orgasms. They didn’t just get them for free.
“I’ll let you come when it pleases me, not you,” Eva
n said, though he kept his voice gentle. “Do you understand?”
“Yes, Sir.”
In the bedroom, he pulled on a pair of jeans, watching as Ruby removed the towel from her head and let it fall to the ground. She ran her fingers through her damp hair and tucked it behind her ears. She was breathtakingly beautiful, and he had to resist the sudden urge to throw her on the bed and make love to her again. But, no. She would have to earn that privilege, too.
He watched the sexy sway of her voluptuous ass as she returned to the bathroom to hang her towel. She came back into the bedroom a moment later and went to the closet, reaching in for her robe.
“Hang that back up,” Evan said. “You’ll remain naked while you’re in this house, except for your cuffs and collar.”
She replaced the robe on its hook and turned to him, her arms wrapped protectively around her body.
It was interesting that this woman who had been so comfortable in her nudity was suddenly acting like a shy girl. Could it be because before it was her decision, and now that decision had been taken from her?
“Don’t cover your body,” Evan instructed. “Don’t forget. It belongs to me.”
As she dropped her arms to her sides, he added, “Stand at attention, feet shoulder-width apart. Lift your hair from your neck and keep it out of the way.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said quietly, assuming the position.
Evan gathered the cuffs and collar from the nightstand. He went to the gear bag and pulled out a foot-long hobble chain with clips on either end. He stuffed the chain into his back pocket.
So far, things were going well. Maybe he really could pull off this Master thing. How far should he take it? How far would she let him?
He stood in front of her and placed the collar around her throat, reaching back to buckle it into place.
She started to lower her arms, but he stopped her with a shake of his head.
“Keep your arms up.” He clipped a cuff around each wrist. “I want you to lock your fingers behind your neck and stay that way until I tell you.”
As he crouched in front of her, he could smell the light, intoxicating scent of her arousal. Her sweet, newly shaven pussy peeked at him between her thighs, and his cock twitched in response. He looked up at her face. Her lips were softly parted, her eyes shining. She seemed to be entering the proper headspace, and the realization excited him.
He wrapped the second set of cuffs around her ankles. Getting to his feet, he said, “You can put your arms at your sides.” He held out his hand. “Let’s go downstairs. I took the liberty of buying some groceries. You can take care of the cats and make breakfast.”
“You bought food? Apples, cheese and crackers not enough for you, Sir?” she asked in a teasing voice.
“Afraid not,” he replied with a smile. Maybe a real Master wouldn’t allow his slave girl to banter as she did, but he didn’t care. This was their fantasy—nobody else’s.
When they got down the stairs, Skittles and Pinky, or whatever the hell their names were, appeared almost at once. They purred loudly as they rubbed against Ruby’s bare legs. She bent to stroke them, making cooing sounds.
Evan fingered the hobble chain in his back pocket. He’d wait until after breakfast.
There was a coffeemaker on the counter and Evan found the beans in the cupboard above it and set about making coffee while Ruby took care of the cats. When she was done, she walked to the refrigerator and pulled open the double doors. Examining the contents, she said, “Bacon, eggs, milk, orange juice, cold cuts, potato salad, strawberries, oh, and a chocolate cake! You must have been hungry when you went grocery shopping.”
“I got bread, too, and a pint of chocolate gelato.”
“Nice,” she said, pulling out the orange juice, eggs and bacon, along with butter and cream. The aroma of freshly brewed coffee filled the air. Turning to him, she asked, “How do you like your eggs, Sir?”
“Scrambled is good, thanks,” Evan replied as he got out mugs for the coffee. “And how do you like your coffee?”
“A little cream please. That is, if Masters are allowed to get coffee for their slave girls,” she quipped.
“Masters are allowed to do whatever they want,” Evan replied with a laugh.
As Ruby busied herself at the stove, looking sexy as hell in nothing but collar and cuffs, Evan prepared their coffee, poured glasses of orange juice and found napkins and silverware.
The kitchen table was set into a nook, a padded bench against the wall, two chairs opposite it. Evan slid onto the bench, sipping his coffee as he watched Ruby cook.
He picked up a cushion from the back of the bench and placed it on the floor beside the table.
Ruby came to the table with two plates of scrambled eggs and bacon. “Breakfast is served,” she said, placing the plates on the table. She pulled out one of the chairs across from Evan.
“Whoa,” he said. “What’re you doing?”
She looked confused. “Huh?”
“You’re not thinking of sitting on that chair, are you, slave girl?”
Her mouth fell open, understanding dawning.
Evan pointed to the cushion he’d placed on the floor. “You will kneel on that and put your hands behind your back. I’ll feed you.”
“Feed me? Oh, but I can feed myself…Sir.”
“Of course you can, but you won’t,” Evan replied firmly. “Now, do as you’re told.”
Ruby moved toward the cushion and sank down onto it, color rising in her cheeks. She knelt up and put her hands behind her back.
Evan pulled her plate over beside his. Picking up a fork, he speared a generous bite of eggs and held it out to her.
Ruby parted her lips. He placed the fork in her mouth and pulled it back, watching her chew. As she licked her lips, he tackled his food. The eggs were perfectly cooked. He took a bite of bacon and then a sip of orange juice.
He fed her more eggs and held out a piece of bacon for her. As she chewed, he picked up her napkin and dabbed at her chin, a curious tenderness moving through him. He held her coffee mug to her lips and tilted it gently, allowing her to sip the hot liquid.
She kept her gaze on his face as he fed her, her dark eyes wide. Her rosy red nipples were like ripe cherries he wanted to bite. His cock hardened, forcing him to adjust it as it tented his jeans.
Evan had intended the feeding exercise to be more about control than something erotic, but he couldn’t deny the sexual tension that was rising between them as he fed her. It was as if the balance of power was finally shifting definitively, both in fact and in her mind. She was giving herself over to him with each submissive parting of her lips.
When both plates and juice glasses were empty, he dabbed at her chin and gave her the last of her coffee. “You may place your hands in your lap,” he said.
She brought her arms from behind her back and clasped them together on her thighs.
“Is that the first time you’ve ever been fed in a sexual context?” he asked, curious.
“Yes, Sir. I’ve never gotten into that whole food as part of sex thing. The Hershey’s syrup and whipped cream stuff, you know?” She wrinkled her nose. “No, thank you.”
Evan laughed in spite of himself. “But this was different, wasn’t it? You were actually submitting to me by your surrender of control. How did that make you feel?”
She pondered a moment. “Yeah, you’re right. It was different than what I’d imagined. I had no idea the experience could be so powerful.”
“Agreed,” Evan said, thrilled with her response. “It was hard for you at first, but you surrendered to the process—to me.”
“Yes, Sir,” she said, her eyes shining. “Thank you, Sir.”
Evan smiled and leaned down to stroke her soft cheek. “You’re more than welcome.” He rose from the table and reached into his back pocket for the hobble chain.
“Stand up, slave. You’re going to wear this hobble chain while you clean up. Then meet me upstairs. I’ll be waiting.”
<
br /> Chapter 10
Ruby moved carefully in her hobbled state as she carried the things to the sink. She washed their dishes and placed them in the drying rack. After wiping her hands, she cupped her shaven mons, still not quite believing she’d let him do that.
In spite of her trepidation, it had been a deeply erotic experience. She’d nearly lost her mind when he stroked her with the baby oil. The pleasure was intense, and even his refusal to let her come had been a turn-on.
It was exciting to give up control in ways she hadn’t previously considered expressly erotic. She’d never found the idea of food play of any kind to be sexually exciting, and yet Evan had made it so. Even clearing and washing the dishes had taken on a different feel, not only because of the cuffs and chains hampering her movements, but because her Master had instructed her to do it.
Yes, it was only a game. Of course it was. But it was a very hot and sexy game, in some ways even hotter than her secret fantasies, because someone else was now involved. This wasn’t just happening in her mind. It was real.
Kitchen reasonably straight, she headed out to the stairway. The chain made climbing the stairs difficult, but using the bannister and putting both feet on each step, the way a small child would, she managed her way without tripping.
She hesitated at the bedroom door. Evan was sitting at the desk, his back to her. He was still in jeans, his broad, muscular back bare. He had brought his laptop and was busy tapping away on its keyboard.
He had apparently managed to fit the pieces of the Total Lockdown System into his gear bag, because there it was, reassembled, though without the collar cuff or the spreader bar. Ruby’s pulse quickened at the sight of the restraint device, her clit perking to attention.
“Hey there,” she said to get Evan’s attention, belatedly adding, “Sir.”
He turned his head and flashed a smile. “All done? I’ll just be a second. You may kneel up at attention by the rig, palms resting on your thighs, knees spread, until I’m finished.”
BDSM Connections - The Complete 4 Novel Series Page 71