Her Master's Heart

by Lawrence Southwick

  Serenity.

  ~~~

  OTHER

  Goddamn it! The one time I sleep late, trying to recover just a bit of lost sleep, and now I can’t find the cunt!

  He'd already gone to every place he'd known her to go. Her car isn't anywhere to be found and neither is she. At her friend's house, her stupid bitch friend was there with her three small kids, but the cunt wasn’t there, either.

  Fuck! She's not at work; she's not at the asshole’s house or at her female friend’s house.

  Had he missed his golden opportunity to finally get that kinky bitch?

  Chapter 24.

  ROBIN

  As five o'clock approached, Robin wondered what Master planned for her tonight. She'd hoped it wouldn't involve anything that might add to the torment of her bruised and burning backside.

  She smiled grimly. If he'd demanded it of her, she'd give it, willingly. She still wanted to please Master, more than anything she could think of.

  Robin scowled at herself. Was this Stockholm Syndrome? Could that even be possible, given she was never his prisoner? Her prison was self-constructed and was contained within her mind—and her heart.

  It was unlikely what she was experiencing was anything akin to being kidnapped. No, she'd just found someone with whom she was simpatico, someone she'd connected with at a level she'd never experienced before. Furthermore, it was all within the D/s dynamic. He'd taken her physically and emotionally to places she'd never gone before. He scratched itches she'd had for so very long. He'd even found and then sated urges and hungers she'd never known existed.

  Could there be more between them than just a D/s fling?

  She shook her head, as she left her office. She needed to protect herself. She didn't want to get her hopes up, realizing she'd already be crushed if she were to lose him. She didn't want to set herself up for any further devastation.

  Don't delude yourself. Master's not your boyfriend, no matter how much you want him to be. Take care of your heart.

  Robin arrived at Master's house just after five thirty and just sat in the car for a moment. She repeated her mantra to herself. Then, she got out and went to his door. Before she had the chance to ring the bell, Master opened the door and ushered her in.

  Robin entered, assumed the inspection position and listened to the door click shut behind her.

  "Strip, Robin."

  Her heart quailed at the thought of more beatings on her poor ass, but she stripped for Master and resumed the inspection position. Master summoned her to his living room sofa.

  "Bend over my knee, Little Bird."

  Her breath hitched in her throat, but Robin obeyed him immediately, feeling the smooth fabric of his faded jeans under her belly. She bent over his lap, her arms trailing on the floor, her legs extended, toes turned inward, as she'd been trained.

  A strange sensation came over her. Master was spreading a cold cream over her ass cheeks and along her thighs, where he'd bruised her with the cane. His hands were a bit rough, and the hypersensitivity of her bruised flesh made her ultra-sensitive to his every touch. Master rubbed and caressed her, his hands moving slowly and deliberately.

  She could feel his cock, a bar of steel, pressing into her belly.

  Robin felt tears prickle behind her eyes. Master was so caring, so compassionate. In the wake of the savage beating he'd doled out less than 24 hours ago, the dichotomy struck her. Yet she cherished his healing touch.

  Master's hands roamed further. He began massaging her leg muscles and rubbing her back with long swooping strokes.

  Then his hands were in her hair, petting and stroking her. Robin moaned her happy sigh. This was Heaven. She felt cherished and valued—soothed—and loved.

  Master turned her over and lifted her onto his lap. One of his hands was still in her hair. He was grabbing it now, moving her as if her hair were a leash. His other hand stroked her breast, and his lips closed over hers, capturing and penetrating her mouth.

  Robin had never been kissed like this before. Her ex's kisses had been perfunctory, at best, even as far back as at their wedding. There was no passion behind them, no heat.

  Master took possession of her mouth, invaded and plundered her and allowed no dissent. His tongue moved between her lips, touching every surface in her mouth. He was breathing her breath, moving as one with her, commanding her every move. Then he began nipping, tiny bites on her lips. She felt his fire, his electricity and his immense desire for her. It stirred the like within her.

  She matched his passion and intensity. It was as if they both fueled and fed off of each other. The combination of the two of them seemed to create something greater than the sum of them as individuals. It was addictive.

  Robin's mouth felt swollen, and each kiss seemed to rocket straight to her pussy. She was sure by now, she was leaving a puddle of arousal on his lap.

  She didn't move her hands. Master hadn't commanded it.

  She felt his fingers plumping her breast, weighing it, then pinching her, everywhere but the nipple. It was driving her mad with the need for him to touch and stimulate the nipple itself. Still, his tongue danced in her mouth, tasting of coffee and Him. An undefinable taste, but one she'd crave and know anywhere.

  Master tugged on her hair, sparking prickles of pain in her scalp. She looked into his eyes, and saw they were dark with passion, with lust.

  Lust for her.

  "Run along upstairs, Little Bird," he told her in a voice deep and raw with desire. "Go to my bedroom. Kneel up."

  Robin scrambled up off his lap and up the stairs, breathing heavily, her own needs weighing on her.

  God, she hoped he planned to fuck her now. The crassness and vulgarity of the raunchy terms she used, even in her own mind, made her blush. She was changing, becoming so wanton!

  When Robin reached the bedroom, she realized Master hadn't specified where she should kneel. Should she get on the bed? She decided to err on the side of caution and knelt up on the floor, facing the doorway.

  Her hands locked behind her back, in a box formation. She held her head high with her chest thrust out. Robin felt aroused and proud. Her Master was coming.

  ~~~

  OTHER

  Well, he had her in his sights again after several restless hours of frantic, stress-filled searching. That had been a total fiasco.

  At least now, he knew where she was, but there was no telling when she might leave the asshole's house.

  After devoting all of this time to the stupid cunt, he felt as if he were back at square one. He'd gotten nowhere. Still just sitting there, waiting and watching, while feeling impotent and useless.

  He sighed heavily then inhaled, taking a deep breath of the scent that he loved so much—his soft leather gloves. He sighed again. Even that wasn’t working for him now. He was beyond that. His fatigue and feelings of defeat were over the top, debilitating.

  He put the van in gear and drove back home. He needed to do something for his exhausted, burnt-out, frazzled state as well as his incredible frustration.

  He briefly considered picking up a whore to ease his tension. After some thought, he shook his head, deciding against it.

  What he needed now, more than anything, was sleep.

  He’d give the cunt a break for forty-eight hours. Then he'd come back refreshed, rested and much less likely to make a mistake.

  “Congratulations,” he whispered, as he drove away. “You've got two more days, bitch. Enjoy ‘em while you got 'em. You don’t have many more left.”

  Chapter 25.

  ROBERT

  As he reached the top of the stairs, Robert peered into his bedroom and saw his lovely sub kneeling up on the floor, in perfect posture.

  She positively glowed in her submission.

  Anticipation and excitement coursed through him. He adjusted his faded jeans to accommodate his hard cock and licked his dry lips with a fevered tongue.

  He felt his hands clutching repeatedly and involuntarily, as if they had mind
s of their own. They hungered to touch her, wanting desperately to grab her, possess her, to take her. Robert shook himself mentally, reining himself in.

  After the previous night, the last thing she needed was a wild man losing control over her. He knew she was still feeling the physical effects of the caning, and he didn't want to cause her any more pain.

  Robert wanted to soothe her heart and soul, as well as her body. He wanted to show her how much she meant to him, to show his appreciation and affection. It was time for gentleness, for reassuring. He wanted to do more than just fuck her like the primal animal within him.

  He needed to make love to her… in his own style. It might not be in the typical vanilla way, but he'd convey his passion and caring, in ways they'd best be appreciated by her with her submissive desires and needs.

  Then he saw the expression in her big brown eyes, and recognized the same lust as in his own. Robert groaned and had to focus more of his energy to throttle his arousal further. He didn't want to hurt her. He remained extremely cognizant of how he'd hurt her so much more than he'd intended. He felt terribly guilty for inflicting so much pain and suffering on his precious little bird. He wanted to give her pleasures she'd never known, not agony.

  He needed to be sweet to her, kind. She deserved that and so much more. She deserved to cherished and worshiped. She deserved to be loved.

  When he spoke to her, Robert was surprised at how hoarse his voice sounded. He didn't expect his emotions to be so blatantly obvious.

  ~~~

  ROBIN

  Robin knelt in the position commanded by Master, and tried to maintain her posture in the way he preferred. She didn't try to suck in her stomach, hide her large breasts, or any of the myriad of things she so recently would've done. Instead, she held herself proudly, more confident than she'd ever been in the fact that this incredible man found her desirable, as she was.

  Physically, Robin was not her own taste. However, it was crystal clear, in so many ways, that Master wanted her and appreciated her large, soft, curvaceous form. It was written in his eyes, in his touch, in his kisses. He made her feel sexy and much more able to appreciate every moment she spent with him.

  Because of his obvious yearning for her, she felt more able to let go and experience each moment to its fullest, rather than being self-conscious and feeling she needed to devote attention to her petty, niggling anxieties and self-flagellation.

  Because of his apparent intense desire for her, she felt comfortable standing, sitting and kneeling that much taller and with a pride she'd never felt—not until she'd met him.

  She displayed for Master as he approached her, trying to entice him without words.

  She saw him come to the door, and for long moments, he simply stood there, silently gazing at her. His hands worked, fingers clutching. She wondered why. He'd never commanded her to avert her eyes, as she'd so often read was a customary demand for subs in her various BDSM Kindle novels.

  However, he was no fictional character. He was flesh and blood, with his own desires. She wanted to please her Master and do as he commanded and preferred. Since he'd never made that request of her, she met his gaze with her own, frank and open.

  "On the bed, on your back, Little Bird," His voice was harsh, strained, almost as if he had a cold. As she moved to do his bidding, she glanced at him through her lashes.

  Is he OK?

  He seemed slightly out of sorts, although not like the previous night. He was neither grim nor dour. He seemed… tense and intense. He reminded her of a tiger—a tiger who was holding back, but about to attack.

  His eyes followed her movements. When he caught her looking at him, his expression darkened. Robin hastily looked away, paying attention to doing as he told her.

  He drew up a chair, close to the bed and sat down.

  “Sweet Little Bird, I would like a show.”

  A show? What does he mean by that?

  “I want you to use your pretty little fingers to pleasure yourself while I watch.”

  Oh God. Oh please, no! Not THAT! It's so private—so extremely intimate.

  Robin had never masturbated in front of anyone in her life. It was something she'd faced totally alone; she'd never even discussed masturbation with anyone before—it was so taboo a subject. She felt the scarlet of her blush flow into her cheeks and along her breasts.

  Why was the idea of touching herself so much more embarrassing than the thought of Master touching her? It seemed shameful. Suddenly, in a strange way, a caning seemed less distressing, more acceptable. Perhaps because it was something she'd endured passively. It was done to her rather than by her.

  Yet, without more than a moment's hesitation, she'd please Master, as he requested.

  Gingerly, she dropped her hands down to the junction between her legs, suddenly ashamed of the rolls of her belly, the spread of her hips.

  He was always looking at her nude form in various positions and poses. He'd seen every inch of her from many angles, every bump and bulge. She knew he desired her body.

  Why didn’t I feel this exposed a minute ago? I was just as naked. Right now, I feel beyond naked. I feel as if I was spread wide open and naked…on steroids.

  Jeez! I might as well be in stirrups, opened up with a speculum under bright lighting. This is just too much for me!

  Master’s stern voice interrupted her thoughts.

  “Now, Little Bird. Show me. Touch yourself.”

  Emboldened by his commands, Robin pushed two fingers inside herself and slowly brought her left hand up to fondle her right breast.

  Master kept telling her she was beautiful and sexy. He always seemed so passionate about it, so sincere. She was so completely sure of his desire only moments ago.

  Yet, now…crap! I wish this was easier for me. I want to obey his command and please him.

  Maybe I should believe him. I need to force myself to trust him, to take his words, his behavior, as well as the passion shows in his eyes and his voice, at face value.

  She coated the fingers of her right hand with her slick pussy juice, withdrew them and swirled them around her clit, rubbing it just the way she liked. Her left hand stopped shaking and she grasped her nipple with firm fingers, twisting and pulling. She moaned.

  Robin was breathing rapidly now.

  Looking up through her eyelashes, she could see Master licking his lips, and shifting as if he was uncomfortable. The bulge in his pants, the rapid rise and fall of his breathing and the intensity of his single-focused stare were unmistakable.

  I do that to him, she thought with savage glee.

  With that thought, Robin grew bolder with her movements. She relaxed and truly began to enjoy herself. Her fingers plunged in and out of her slippery pussy, and her other hand was positively cruel in its treatment of her breast.

  Moans gave way to groans, and she could feel her arousal ramping up, coming to a head.

  “Please, Master,” she whimpered. “May I…?” His answer took her by surprise.

  “No,” he growled.

  She looked back at him, surprised.

  His face almost showed pain. He stood up from the chair. "Spread eagle."

  Reluctantly, Robin pulled her hand away, her fingers still glistening.

  She felt him attaching Velcro restraints to her wrists and ankles. They felt lighter than the leather cuffs, but were just as unbreakable. She was every bit as bound and at his mercy. Robin felt a shiver run up her spine, as she relished her vulnerability.

  "All right, Little Bird? What color are we, Robin?"

  "Green, Master."

  "Good girl." He attached her wrists to hooks near the head of the bed, and he drew light chains out that pulled her ankles up and bent her knees, opening her to him. She felt a rush to her pussy...or as Master would say, to her cunt.

  Just thinking the word made her juices flow. She arched her back a little, wanting him inside of her.

  A sharp slap to the inside of her thigh wakened her to the fact that he was wa
tching her.

  "No, Little Bird. I lead; you follow. You do not top from the bottom, even in the position or movement of your body."

  "No, Master. Sorry, Master. “

  He grinned at her evilly. "That's all right, little one; I have a very special punishment in mind for you."

  Her brain buzzed; punishment? Now?

  He leaned forward and dropped his head between her thighs.

  "Master! NO! I mean, I need to wash..."

  A sharp slap landed on her other thigh, and then another. When his head came up, his expression was grim.

  "Did you say 'no' to me? Are you safewording?"

  Horrified at her transgressions, Robin could only shake her head.

  "I didn’t ask your opinion about your cleanliness or about what I chose to do. I may do what I want with you, right?"

  Helplessly, Robin nodded.

  "You're on speech restriction until I tell you otherwise. You may make sounds, but no words. If you must communicate with me for any reason other than safe words, you may grunt three times, and I'll consider your request."

  Robin’s cheeks flooded with color at the thought of grunting like an animal to try to speak to Master. Her eyes were wide, but she didn't speak.

  Master grinned at her. "Much better." His voice lowered. "Just so you’re aware, your cunt has the loveliest aroma. It's spicy and tantalizing. I'm sure it’s going to taste as good as it smells."

  With that, his head lowered again, and she felt his tongue press against her slit. Robin groaned at the fantastic feeling.

  ~~~

  ROBERT

  Robert's fingers spread her lips open, exposing the bud of her clitoris, no longer hiding in its hood. The little bundle of nerves stood tall, aching for his touch, but he avoided it for now. Instead, his lips, tongue and teeth attacked her splendid opening, which was dripping with her honey.

  He nipped, licked and sucked, listening closely to the sounds she made, and adjusting his actions and rhythms to accentuate her noises.