Her Master's Heart

by Lawrence Southwick

  ~~~

  ROBIN

  Never had Robin felt clumsier, or more like a great galumphing beast, than she did by the end of her position practice session with Master. She had two left feet, and apparently, determined to trip over both of them. She'd even crashed into Master, much to her horrified mortification.

  There were so many bodily tremors running through her, Robin wondered if this was how people with palsy felt. If she didn’t feel bad about herself before this session, she certainly did afterward.

  A couple of times, she'd been certain Master would punish her. Surprisingly, he simply encouraged her to do better. He'd set her back on her feet and had her repeat her moves another dozen times, until sweat literally poured off her.

  Jeez! How feminine and ladylike of me—NOT! She teased herself.

  As a woman, I'm supposed to 'glow' or 'perspire', not sweat like a freakin’ hog. Now, I'm creating a puddle on which I'll probably slip and slide, only to become even clumsier. I'm already a clear and present safety hazard. What's wrong with me? What the Hell could he ever have seen in me in the first place? He might as well try to teach a fish to ride a bicycle.

  Robin began to despair, feeling hopeless, worthless and helpless. She felt as though she'd never be good enough for Master.

  Robert deserved a better submissive than she could ever be. Master deserved somebody who could fulfill his desires with grace and speed. He should have someone who'd reflect well upon him. She felt she simply wasn't worthy of this honor, she wasn't enough for Master, she...

  A sharp CRACK across the seat of her pants roused her from her miserable, self-flagellating reverie. She looked up, goggle-eyed, at Master, who'd just struck her with the cane.

  "You're thinking too much, Little Bird. Stop that. Just do as I tell you, right?"

  "Yes, Master." One last fleeting thought ran through her brain. It was of the words he'd spoken to her, "…the love and concern I have for you."

  Did I hear him correctly? Had he really said that? To me? It's hard to believe. Wow.

  "Good girl. Let's start from inspection position, again.”

  Chapter 17.

  ROBIN

  It felt so strange. After an entire weekend of submission to her Master, much of it in minimal clothing, some of it naked, she was now back at work. For everyone else, it was just another typical Monday. Her coworkers were chatting about their weekends, as they did every Monday.

  Then there was Robin. It was as if she'd entered some strange fantasy world over her weekend. She felt so different…so special. She was like the cat who ate the canary and got away with it. She was scared if she hiccupped, feathers would go flying from her mouth.

  The plain, middle-aged, chubby, boring Robin had this new amazing secret nobody would ever guess about her, or possibly even understand. Nobody who knew her would ever believe it, not of her.

  She was bursting with fruit flavor, floating on cloud nine since she'd started on this new and extremely exciting adventure. She was so proud of herself for having the courage to do this. This was bigger than huge, in her eyes.

  I wonder if I look any different. I certainly FEEL different. I feel as though people can look at me and somehow know I've changed. I'm the new and improved Robin.

  Just for a moment, she contemplated what the people she knew would say if she told them what she'd done during her two days off. She could just picture their reactions.

  Angela, who absolutely HAD to one-up everyone, would probably say something like, "Oh, sure, I've done that before, but MY Master was a billionaire businessman."

  Leroy, who ogled all the good-looking women who came into their office, but would never even glance at her, thank goodness, would probably speculate crassly about all the pussy her Master got all the time.

  Rhonda, who always talked about what a jerk her husband was, and how she should divorce him, would probably say her Master was just another male pig, out to ruin her.

  What an enjoyable game! This was so much fun to think about, in all different ways!

  A fit of giggles suddenly overtook her, as these thoughts ran through her brain. Rhonda glanced at her strangely for a brief moment. It dawned on Robin how foolish and inconsequential her job was, how unnecessary.

  I'd rather be with Master, learning from him, pleasing him, serving him, lovin...HOLD IT.

  Stop right there, Robin Johnston Sinclair! She told herself firmly. I've only known him a few weeks and we've only spent a few days together. No matter how intimate things have been, don't go deluding yourself into believing, or even hoping, for any great love affair. There's been no indication Master's looking for any kind of relationship, with you or anybody.

  Just take what he's offering: an eye-opening and world-expanding education. He's also giving me delicious, smoking-hot sex. Rapturous, scream inducing, make me come until I'm unconscious, GREAT sex. Be thankful and happy you've got that much.

  ~~~

  ROBERT

  God, he couldn't stop thinking about her—his sweet, lovely, little bird.

  When he woke up, he missed her warm body in his bed. He missed her making breakfast for him. He missed training her, teaching her. He missed seeing her, touching her, smelling her, tasting her, hearing her, making her come, making her moan and scream.

  Robert thought about her training and about what was next on the agenda. This would be the hardest part for both of them. Once he crossed this line, there was no going back. This was the crux point. If he did it wrong, she'd leave and never come back.

  Maybe I should postpone this step. He hated having to take that risk.

  I don't want to lose her...as my submissive; he hastily amended.

  However, he felt strongly that Robin deserved to reach her full potential, and that wouldn't happen, unless he stuck to the timeline. He sighed heavily. Sometimes it was difficult to be a Dom. He needed to look after her, to put her needs and well-being above his own desires.

  Fuck!

  If Robert had ever wanted to be completely selfish, it was right now. He wanted her in his life—for a good, long time. She already meant so much to him. He wanted to forget about her training and just take her, pleasure her and take pleasure in her again and again and again and again...

  Robert mentally shook himself. He needed to stop fantasizing and procrastinating. He needed to bite the bullet and focus on gathering his equipment and setting things up for tonight.

  That was when he'd see Robin. He so wanted to see her, to be with her. God, he hoped it would go well tonight and she wouldn't walk—or run—out of his life.

  Chapter 18.

  ROBERT

  Nervously, Robert ran his hand through his thinning hair. He snorted. Thinning, my ass. You're bald, pal. Get used to it.

  He struggled to organize his thoughts. Robin was a submissive, that fact was clear. She might not have realized it until her dick of a husband had brought things to a head, but it was the truth.

  Was Robert destined to be merely a temporary BDSM rebound lover? Maybe he's simply some desperate attempt of hers to capture everything she'd wanted that her husband hadn't fulfilled within her.

  Well, in a sense, yes. Robert was obviously unlike her ex-husband. He was practically the Anti-Andrew.

  Although more than one of his theories might hold some truth¸ Robert was confident they weren't the reasons for Robin's interest in him. Well, they weren't the only reasons. She was exploring her sexuality, and that included her newly discovered submissiveness.

  Robert wanted to help fulfill her desires and needs. Although they'd only met recently, he already cared about her. Am I teaching her what she needs, or what I want her to be?

  This was always a difficult question for Doms to answer. Of course, they served the needs of their subs, pushing their limits and guiding them, protecting them.

  At the same time, Robert liked things to be a certain way.

  But by pushing her to do things MY way, was that for her benefit, or my own? Could it be a happy con
fluence of the two?

  He thought he might need an outsider's opinion on that issue. He was simply too close to be objective. Whom could he talk to about this extremely personal, ethical and emotional subject? Master John?

  No. As much as he understood power exchange and BDSM, John was but an infant when it came to relationships. He was perfectly happy to waft through life, plucking and fucking the occasional twinkie. Serious discussions were beyond his realm.

  Robert would need to devote time to think about this subject.

  Robin was worth it and he wanted what was best for her.

  Chapter 19.

  ROBIN

  Five o'clock couldn't get there fast enough for Robin—not today.

  This was the day when time stood still, or so it seemed. Time was certainly relative. When she was with Master, time moved all too quickly. When she was waiting to be with him, time was slower than a turtle…on its back…in a sea of molasses…on a chilly day.

  As the time clock chimed five, she hurriedly punched out and practically ran to her car. Master insisted she eat before coming to his house. She grabbed something from a drive-thru on the way, chewing as she drove. Her heart was a beating drum in her chest.

  She arrived at his house in record time. It took just over a half an hour in rush hour traffic. She walked/ran up the path to his front door. He answered almost immediately after she rang the doorbell and ushered her inside. Robin smiled at Master, extremely glad to be in his presence again.

  He didn't smile back. Indeed, he looked uncharacteristically grim.

  Robin wondered if she'd done something wrong. Was I late? No, that wasn't it. Am I dressed inappropriately? I don't think so.

  Master solved the issue of her attire quickly, by ordering her to strip. She did so, immediately tossing her clothes onto the floor in her haste to obey.

  She assumed the inspection position for him.

  “What are you, Robin?”

  She was puzzled. “Master?”

  He grasped her chin, forcing his chocolate brown eyes to be all she could see. “What are you…to me, Robin?”

  Oh, that was easy. “Master, I am your submissive; your slave.”

  “What can I do to you, Robin, if I so choose?”

  A shiver ran down her spine, at the same time, her nipples tightened into hard knots, and she felt wetness flood her core. Her arms trembled and unable to help herself, Robin’s eyes avoided his, glancing downward at his feet and the floor.

  “Anything you want, Master,” she whispered.

  There was silence.

  Master didn't move. He seemed to be contemplating her. Robin desperately wanted to shuffle her feet, hug herself or better yet, hug Master. Nevertheless, she resolutely remained in position. She waited for him to command her.

  “Robin, I want you to go into the third room on the right, at the top of the stairs and kneel for me.”

  Her anxiety skyrocketed and she swallowed with a suddenly dry throat.

  He keeps calling me 'Robin' tonight. He's always called me by his affectionate nickname, 'Little Bird.' He'd only used my real name in public, or maybe when he was upset with me.

  Oh, God. What did I do? Did I NOT do something I needed to do?

  Robin was determined not to anger him further. She desperately wanted to please Master, no matter what, so she obeyed his command. She ascended the stairs, passing his bedroom, the bathroom and turning into the third room.

  Much to her surprise, it was decorated as a dungeon, complete with most of the equipment and props the Club offered. She began hyperventilating.

  Robin tried to stop thinking, to turn off her brain. She went to the center of the room and knelt, spreading her knees and laying her hands on her thighs, palms up. She straightened her back and lifted her head, staring at the open doorway.

  Like water flowing over rocks, she thought. I will be graceful and alluring for him. She repeated this to herself, trying to calm the rapid beat of her heart. I want to please him.

  Darkness, in the shape of Master, suddenly filled the doorway. He wore jeans, a black t-shirt, and was barefoot. In his right hand, Master carried a slender cane, made of some kind of plastic.

  More position training? She wondered. Foolish woman! Stop thinking so much. Just do what Master says, and try to please him.

  “Stand, Robin. Go to the spanking bench, and get on it.”

  Oh God. He didn't say 'good girl'? He's not petting me or giving me ANY type of reassurance? Her heart seemed to speed up even more, if that was possible.

  Gracefully, Robin repeated inside her head, as a soothing mantra to herself. Like water over rocks.

  Robin stood, rising from kneeling without using her hands, as she had practiced. She walked slowly and provocatively over to the bench, swaying her hips in the manner Master liked. She tried to excise the useless negative thoughts she had about her body image, as well as all of her self-castigation. Focusing on her memories of Master’s compliments and his apparent happiness with her form, she pushed those thoughts to the forefront of her brain.

  He likes the way I look. She told herself.

  She mounted the bench, spreading her legs for him, letting him see the glistening arousal on her labia.

  Master strapped her to the bench using leather cuffs on her wrists, ankles and around her waist. When he finished, she tried to move, experimentally. She couldn't. She was truly well secured. Her arousal peaked with her realization of just how at Master's mercy she was.

  Master asked her, “What is your safe word?” His voice was...odd, somehow. He didn't sound like himself.

  “Red, Master.”

  “Remember it.” Master's voice was thick, strained. His hands ran over her wide bottom. He rubbed, squeezed and scratched. It felt good and invigorating. Her skin felt awakened.

  He didn't stop there. He moved his hands up across her hips and lower back, then down to her thighs and between her legs. Robin blushed as his fingers slipped into the slickness he found there.

  Suddenly, Master's hand began slapping her rump, first one cheek, then the other. The slaps weren't hard, but firm, decisive. Her butt began to feel warm from the blows. Slowly, Master began to increase the power of the strikes, causing the burn in her ass to rise. She moaned.

  After several minutes of what seemed to be a sensual spanking she found both arousing and enjoyable, he suddenly stopped and spoke into her ear.

  “What color are you, Robin?” She swallowed, wishing he'd keep going.

  “Green, Master.”

  “Good girl.”

  She heard him step back a couple of paces. There was a hushed sound behind her and she felt the soft application of many leather strips against her skin. Master had apparently brought in a leather flogger, unseen by her.

  At first, the blows were so gentle they almost tickled. Master used the fall of leather tails to sensitize her skin. He'd occasionally pass them across her face, so she could smell the rich scent of deer hide. Slowly, he began to increase the intensity of his blows. The leather crisscrossed her back and bottom in a figure eight pattern, now feeling like blunt blows all over her body.

  It didn't hurt, but the powerful thudding took her breath away.

  As one stroke fell, just as she'd been about to take a breath in relief, another stroke would fall, stealing the opportunity away. Her mind whirled, seeming to spin away into the heavens. Robin became a creature of pure sensation, twirling away into the bright sparkling lights in her brain. The blows began to sting but she took no notice.

  Every thought, every worry within her vanished. Robin was enveloped in the moment, in feeling…in just being.

  Her chest began to hurt, and a thought came to her, Oh, yeah. I must remember to breathe. She inhaled raggedly, she was so completely caught up in the maelstrom of sensation.

  Robin didn't notice when the flogging stopped. She simply lay there on the bench, her face pressed sideways on the cushion, sweating, feeling herself slowly come back to her body, and to reality
.

  Oh, my God. What was that amazing feeling? It was like a drug…an altered state. I wish this could last all night, she thought to herself, dreamily.

  “That experience you were enjoying was subspace, Robin.” It was as if he could read her mind. She tilted her head a little so she could see Master out of the corner of her eye. He stood behind her, looking so strong, implacable.

  Yet, there was still something…off…about him tonight. Master's posture was stiff. He seemed different to her, and not in a positive or happy way—quite the opposite. He seemed uncomfortable, somehow. Nevertheless, he was still so sexy and gorgeous in her eyes.

  She absently tried to move, forgetting how tightly restrained her body was. Another shiver ran down her spine, as she realized anew how vulnerable she was to him, here and now. At the same time, that very vulnerability sent electric shocks of arousal throughout her body, particularly between her legs.

  Unbidden, she moaned softly. She ached to feel him inside of her, taking her in whatever way he chose.

  “Robin, that's only one way I can pleasure and treasure you. There are many other sensations I can give you, and many different ways to evoke them in you. In time, you'll experience them all. What color are you, Robin?”

  “Green, Master. Green,” she said with a smile.

  Master nodded shortly. “Prepare yourself. This will be more intense.”

  Oh my God. What could be 'more intense' than sending my mind away to orbit the Sun? She didn't have to wait long to find out.

  Chapter 20.

  “You don't need to count,” he told her. “This isn't a punishment.”

  Master stepped behind her and whipped her with the cane she'd seen as he'd entered the room.

  The first blow took the breath right out of her lungs. Pain exploded across her ass, like a blooming flower of fire. She didn't have time to gasp, before the next strike landed a millimeter below the first. Then another, and another, and another…

  Robin began to cry helplessly. The strikes came faster than she could process. There was no magical transformation into pleasure. There was no arousal or sensual feel, as there had been when he spanked and flogged her. No, this was pure pain and nothing else. The pain was expressed in welts of fire drawn against her skin.