Then the rhythmic vibrations in her core suddenly caught up with her. She felt her climax approach rapidly.
"Oh, please, Master! I...please. May I? Please!" She heard herself frantically beg him.
"You may, Little Bird. Come for me, now!"
She did. Her wails echoed off of the kitchen tiles. Her head whipped back and forth, her hair a silken froth. Everything inside of her splintered as Master firmly held her hips to steady her and keep her safe.
When at last she'd stopped shuddering, her hands continued to grip the countertop with white knuckles as she tried to catch her breath. The vibrations within her stopped. Master rubbed her back and reached into her with his long fingers, to pluck the egg-shaped vibrator from her. The wet sucking sound it made coming out of her, made her blush furiously.
Master casually wrapped the egg in a paper towel and placed it on the counter, with the remote.
Then he wrapped a thick, luxurious bathrobe around her and tied the belt around her waist, before kissing her chastely on the cheek. "How about an omelet? Does that sound good to you?"
Suddenly, Robin was ravenous. She nodded eagerly. "Yes, Master. Where do you keep your..."
He interrupted her with a chuckle. "I was just teasing you before, Little Bird. I’ll do the cooking. You go sit at the table, and give me something beautiful to glance at, while I whip them up."
Robin blinked at him, unsure.
Master laughed. "Remember," he said, "You don't want 24/7, because you've already been a housewife/slave, yes? So, relax in that chair, and let me serve you, for once."
Robin sat and watched the Master Robert show. He was so handsome. She enjoyed her view of him gathering supplies and searching for ingredients in the refrigerator. The boxer shorts he wore hung low on his hips. His muscular shoulders shifted as he moved items around.
Breathing in deeply, she gave a happy little sigh.
Watching him absorbed in cooking the omelets, she felt her wanton side trying to emerge. She dropped one shoulder of her robe, oh-so-casually revealing her shoulder, neck, arm and the tops of her breasts. She was debating whether to loosen the tie holding the robe shut, when he growled at her, without looking up.
"Keep that up, and we'll be eating cold omelets, or you can pull that robe up and not get another spanking tonight."
Robin actually thought about which option she'd prefer. It took her a few moments to take stock of her competing desires. She realized the hunger in her belly was a tad stronger than the one in her pussy. She decided to close up her robe.
The omelets were delicious.
~~~
ROBIN
After they finished eating, Master loaded the dishwasher. With the occasional exception of when she dined in a restaurant, Robin was never waited on or cared for in any way. She'd always been the one doing those things for others. This was a bit strange and uncomfortable for her. She felt useless; wasn't there anything he wanted or needed her to do?
My goodness, this whole night… No, it's been more than that. Actually, all of the time I'd spent with Master has been uncharted territory for me.
She wondered if a cab would come all the way out here as her car was still back at the Club. Since tomorrow was Sunday, she didn't have any urgent need for it, but she also had no transportation.
This amazing time, like any great dream, must eventually come to an end. She had to get her car and get back home, to reality. Surely, Master was done with her for the night.
They'd never discussed anything like overnight stays or spending time in each other's homes. Up until tonight, they'd just considered interactions at the Club. Robin realized things between them had progressed much further than she'd anticipated, and much faster, too.
Knowing this, filled her heart, pleasing her very much.
She didn't want to be presumptuous. She wanted to stay with him as long as possible and hated for their time together to end. Yet, she already feared she might be overstaying her welcome. Hell, Master had cooked for her and made her climax how many times tonight?
It seemed the great guy might've confused their roles as D/s.
Rather than risking rejection, she tried to sound casual as she asked, "May I take a shower before I call a cab?"
Master didn't speak for a moment, just lowered his eyebrows and contemplated her. Finally, he said, "Yes, of course, you may take a shower."
He seemed to have omitted a response to the second part of her question. Of course, that was the part she'd most wanted addressed. Master rarely spoke without purpose, and he seemed to know what she was thinking most of the time. She was uncertain.
Does he want me to stay? No, I should go. Don’t presume. Don’t intrude. Don't overstay your welcome. Though she wasn't cold, Robin shivered.
The shower next to his bedroom was spacious and clean. Looking in the cabinets, she found large, fluffy towels, several kinds of shampoos, conditioners and various soaps, some of which were expensive.
Robin decided in favor of inexpensive products, not wanting to take advantage of Master's generosity. She scrubbed and soaked in the hot water, singing and humming to herself. She smiled as the water hit her sensitized nipples. Oh my.
She used a cloth to wash between her legs, and frowned. Would Master like it if I shaved my pussy? The thought of it made her blush, but also tingle. Her humming increased.
As she lathered her body, she wondered if Master had many female visitors at his house. He certainly seemed prepared to accommodate others, if the variety of soaps was any indicator. She snorted to herself. It's not as though she had any claim on exclusivity with him.
In spite of this logical thought, a wave of possessive jealousy swept through her. She frowned at the thought of Master with another woman. The idea was extremely upsetting—she wanted him all to herself.
This was something they'd never discussed. Robin feared his answer would lead her to a world of hurt. Yet she was aware she needed to know where he stood—eventually. Scary stuff. It seems anything of serious value, had serious risks involved.
I don't want to lose him. He already means so much to me. If I bring up this subject and he isn't that into me, I risk coming off as needy. He might reject me on that basis alone.
Robin was sure, with his good looks and his mad Dom skills, Master was surely much in demand, by many women. Her encounter with Chloe proved as much. She'd definitely been a card-carrying member of Master Robert's fan club.
Suddenly, memories of the young woman's harsh words flooded back into her mind. Her humming cut off abruptly. Her high spirits sharply plummeted to earth faster than a bird shot during flight. She found herself questioning what had sent her spirits soaring in the first place.
What am I doing here? Is he acting as my Dom out of pity? Is he only indulging me out of a sense of duty? How could I have deluded myself into thinking my feelings for him might be mutual?
Suddenly panicked, Robin wanted to get dressed and slink from the house, before Master realized she was gone.
A deep voice interrupted her reverie.
"You stopped humming, Little Bird. Why? I liked your song."
Robin jumped a little, realizing he was standing just inside the door of the bathroom, watching her through the clear shower doors.
"I...I need to call a cab." She hated the tremulous quaver in her voice. She was a grown woman, not some high school kid, worried what the quarterback thought of her. Why did his very presence reduce her to a quivering mass of Jell-O?
The Plexiglas shower door swung open and Master reached in and shut off the water. He wrapped her in an enormous fluffy towel and gazed directly into her face.
"That's not what I asked you, Little Bird."
When he looked at her, she ducked her head and refused to meet his eyes.
He sighed. "All right, I'll let it go for now. Come to bed." He tugged at her hand.
Robin pulled her hand from his and didn't follow him to the bed, where he'd sprawled out, still wearing only his boxers. As
she stood there, still and silent, his brows drew together, his eyes narrowed.
When he spoke, his voice was deep and the command was clear. "Come to bed now, Robin."
Unable to stop herself, Robin stepped towards the bed.
He chuckled. "Lose the towel."
Shamefacedly, Robin quickly brushed her hair back into some kind of shape. She draped the towel over the back of the chair before the mirror, and then made the dash of shame to the bed, hoping the dim lights hid her most obvious flaws.
Robin crawled into the bed, trying to maintain distance from Master, but he'd have none of that. His big meaty hand swooped around her waist, pulling her tightly against him, her back to his front. She could feel his erect cock pressing against her.
Should I do something to help him with that? Isn't that kind of my duty as his sub?
Apparently, he could read her mind—again, because he spoke in a growl, directly into her ear.
"Yes, I'm erect. I tend to get hard whenever I have a beautiful woman in my arms. That doesn't mean anything has to be done about it, or even that I want anything done about it. Do you remember what I told you before, about what you need to do to please me?"
How could I forget? He'd told me I didn't need to worry or try to anticipate what he'd expect of me. He'd lead me and indicate what I needed to do and how I needed to behave. I just have to follow his directions to please him.
She sighed and settled into his embrace. In the safety and security of his arms, her body became boneless. “Yes Master.”
“Good. Right now I want us both to get some sleep.”
Her fears faded. Smiling, she sank into sweet slumber.
Chapter 15.
ROBIN
As she was accustomed to sleeping poorly, Robin was surprised when she realized she'd slept past six am. She heard the rumble of snoring from the warm form pressed up against her back.
Strong muscular arms encircled her like pythons, and she felt his chest hair tickling her back, as warm breath tickled her ear. His hard cock pushed determinedly into her ass cheek, even though she could tell he was still asleep.
Instantly, memories came flooding back to her of the previous night. Robin grinned, and then blushed.
Gingerly, she extricated herself from the bear-like embrace of Master. She didn't want to wake him. Fortunately, his stentorian breathing continued unabated.
Robin didn't want to put on last night's club wear again, so she searched Master's closet and dresser. She found an oversized t-shirt and a pair of sweat pants that tied in front.
She'd considered taking clothes from his laundry hamper, so she could enjoy the smell of him, but rejected that as being too stalker-ish. Instead, she donned the clean clothes and went to the kitchen to surprise him with a culinary delight. Her bare feet pitter-patted on the tile floor.
Robin located eggs, sausage and bread for toast, straightaway, along with marmalade, spices and papaya juice. She wrinkled her nose at that, never having had it before, but then shrugged and poured two glasses. She also started the coffee maker.
~~~
ROBERT
Robert became aware of an uncomfortable feeling, which urged him out of sleep. In addition, he smelled some delicious scents wafting into the room. Was someone cooking breakfast? Was that coffee he smelled?
Robert looked over at the other side of the bed, recognizing it as empty for the first time. He'd enjoyed sleeping with his little bird. Her absence had awakened him.
Hmm. Did making him breakfast without permission count as “anticipating” his needs? His stomach rumbled, and he decided he didn't care.
Yawning, Robert got up, went to the bathroom and took care of his morning ablutions. He shaved, washed up, brushed his teeth and donned a black t-shirt and yoga pants.
Then he went to the kitchen. Robin stood behind the stove, dressed in his clothes, looking perfectly fuckable. His cock hardened inside his soft pants.
His little bird was totally immersed in what she was doing. She was chewing on her lower lip in an adorable manner, as she wrestled the eggs from the pan, onto plates. Sausages and orange slices already decorated each plate. A small stack of buttered toast was arranged on a separate plate, already on the table.
“So!” His voice boomed, and she jumped with an “Eep!” He laughed, and after a moment, she joined him.
“You startled me, Master,” she scolded him.
“That smells wonderful. Thank you, Little Bird.”
Robin smiled shyly and ducked her head.
“I totally forgot we had omelets late last night. I should've fixed something different...”
“Nonsense. I love eggs. You've done beautifully.” He could see how fragile her ego was right now. Robert spoke reassuringly, protective of his little bird. “Thank you, Robin.”
At the sound of her name, she blushed again. God, she was a sweet thing!
It was too bad he was going to have to break her down a bit, before he could build her up again.
~~~
OTHER
The weekend was hardest. She went to his house late Friday or early Saturday, and didn't emerge until late Sunday night or early Monday morning. He took to carrying a gallon milk jug, to pee in, so he didn't have to leave his post.
God only knew what they were doing in there. He ate a lot of cold sandwiches, drank a lot of thermos coffee and tried not to think about it.
He'd managed to discover that 'Guy' was actually Bob Westwood, a typical Richey-rich, who “worked” managing his family's trust. That meant moving money around between banks, giving money to charitable foundations and apparently, not doing dick the rest of the time.
When she wasn’t here, as far as he could tell, the rich guy almost never left his home. Hell, he even had groceries delivered to his house every week. Who the fuck does that?
Still, if you gotta be a pervert, you might as well be a rich pervert.
Bastard.
Chapter 16.
ROBERT
He started her position training slowly, beginning with kneeling. He helped position her to sit back on her feet, her knees spread wide, her hands on thighs, palms up, back straight, looking straight ahead.
"This is 'kneeling', It's a standard rest position and a lovely way to present your body to me, especially when you've been stripped."
He used the word ‘stripped’ deliberately. Not ‘unclothed’, ‘naked’ or even ‘nude’, because ‘stripped’ had an inherent violence to it. It implied an action that could be done to her, not simply her disrobing or acquiescing to a polite request.
Words were a tool to be used to exert power, control—and he wielded them like weapons. Robert watched her as she absorbed his words. He watched the skin between her shoulder blades twitch.
He knew if he reached down and touched her, his hand would come back soaking wet—and that was while she was wearing clothes.
This was his way of easing her into the mindset of submission.
“I like to look at you.”
Her slightly startled glance at him confirmed his sad suspicions. She had difficulty reconciling her own body image with the way he viewed her. She was unable to accept the fact she could be so desirable to him. He wanted to change that.
“You are a delectable, juicy peach, Little Bird.” His voice was low, rumbly. “Soft and wonderful. The only thing better than looking at you, is touching you. You are a lovely woman. Never doubt that.”
He paused, and then said, "The second position is kneeling up. Kneel without bending your hips, so your torso is directly above your knees, rather than resting on your heels. Clasp your arms behind your back, in box formation, elbows to wrists."
He watched as she assumed this position, breathing heavily.
"In this position, put your knees together. We don't want you to fall over, do we?" He modified her position, tapping her with the cane he carried. It was important not to give her too much human contact, at this point.
She was learning, after all. She wasn
't there to be aroused by him.
Of course, it was killing him not to touch her. He could just picture running his hands over her voluptuous curves, pressing and teasing her, stroking...
He cleared his throat. With difficulty, Robert jerked himself out of his fantasy and back to training.
"Next is inspection. Stand up. Spread your legs, shoulder-width apart. Place your hands behind your neck.”
“That's it. Good girl." Robert saw the micro expression of pleasure pass over her face at his words. That was an excellent response. It was so much easier to train, using the carrot rather than the stick. Still, the stick had its uses...
He ran her through a dozen more positions: crawl, wait, discipline, punishment and others. He stopped when he saw fatigue reach her eyes. He had her kneel at rest, while he stroked her hair.
"Master?" Her whispered question could barely be heard.
"Yes?" His voice was equally soft.
"What's the difference between discipline and p-punishment?" Robert took a moment before answering.
"Discipline refers to training, methodology and motivation. Punishment is a penalty inflicted for a fault or error. Discipline reflects the love and concern I have for you, as your Dom, as well as my efforts to train you for correct behavior in the future. Punishment is given in response to past misdeeds."
Robin's eyes were wide. "Thank you, Master," she breathed.
They were quiet for a few moments. Robert made her drink more fruit juice to avoid dehydration. Then he tapped her shoulder with the cane, lightly. She flinched.
"That's enough rest, for now. Practice transitioning between positions. You need to move gracefully and elegantly, like water flowing between rocks."
Robin worked for a long time, repeatedly doing as Robert requested. All the while, he watched her closely, explaining anything she did incorrectly and informing her how she could improve.
Sweat poured from her due to her efforts. By the time he called a halt to their session, she was soaked and out of breath.
Her Master's Heart Page 9