by Sam Crescent
“Some use it, some don’t. I prefer to know my subs are well cared for. Come along. I’ll sort you out and then it’s bed for you. We have a long day of lessons ahead tomorrow.”
* * * *
Harry lay in bed listening to the house creaking. It was as though the old building had a voice, that it grumbled as it settled for the night, groaning about having to withstand the harsh weather. He smiled at his silly thoughts and brought Ruby to mind instead. She probably thought the lessons coming her way were sexual, but she had a lot to learn about herself before he could press her with more spankings. What he had in mind was a simple day of allowing her to move about the house freely so she could understand that being tied up for hours on end wasn’t a requirement of all Doms.
Sunday promised to be an interesting study.
He thought about her spanking then, how she’d reacted so well, yet her thinking he’d used a plank of wood and letting him spank her regardless was somewhat disturbing. Perhaps she’d been struck with such an implement before and she thought every Dom used one? There was so much she had yet to tell him, but he wouldn’t push. The memories were perhaps better left unexplored for the rest of the weekend. God knew she could do with respite from them.
How was she faring now, alone in her room? He strained for sounds from above—he’d chosen that room so he could hear her moving about, the loose floorboard by the door ideal for alerting him that she had left the room—but heard nothing out of the ordinary. He worried that despite her telling him she’d be fine as she began walking up the stairs, the memories of what she’d endured before would visit her as nightmares. She’d managed very well in appearing to combat them during the evening, but her sometimes panicked glances behind her in the shopping centre were more than enough proof she would take a long time to heal.
If she woke in fear, he’d be there. She knew where his room was, he’d made a point of showing her just before they retired, and he’d also let her know that if she needed him, not to hesitate in seeking him out.
As if his thoughts of Ruby made her get out of bed, Harry listened to her soft footsteps then the jarring creak of the floorboards. He forced himself to remain in position. She had to come to him, to learn to take matters into her own hands, instead of him rushing from his room to seek her out and ask what was wrong. Yes, she needed that kind of caring behaviour from a Dom, too, but for now he wanted to build up her confidence, let her see she could make decisions without being reprimanded for it.
It wasn’t long before a soft knock came and his door inched open. Her face appeared, her peeking around the frame, and he smiled at her.
“I can’t sleep,” she said. “Can I…?”
Of course she bloody can.
“If that’s what makes you happy, yes,” he said.
She came in, closed the door, and snuggled in bed beside him. He held her close, smiling as in no time at all her breathing evened out and a soft snore huffed from her lips.
If he wasn’t careful he could get used to this.
Damn.
* * * *
Master couldn’t sleep. For the second night in a row rest eluded him, and he paced his living room, scoring double tracks in the fluffy cream rug. He should have been tired from erecting his contraption at the club—a donation, he’d said, to the place that had allowed him to meet people of like mind. The owner had eyed him with suspicion, but really, what was the harm in him contributing a new thing to play with?
In any case, he didn’t care what the owner thought. She’d accepted the donation, leaving him to set it up on the wall in one of the empty play rooms, and he’d spent the time forming the plan that had sprouted when he’d seen Margaret with Knowles.
He only hoped it would work to his advantage.
Sunday evenings saw Dominants and subs gathering at the club for their weekly meeting. Not everyone attended—some preferred to come and play every so often, keeping their private lives just that—but many used it as an opportunity to swap stories and spend time in the company of people who had the same predilections. Knowles was one of them. As far as Master could remember, Knowles had never missed a meeting, but now he had Margaret perhaps the man would refrain from attending.
He hasn’t in the past when he’s been teaching subs.
But what if he wasn’t just teaching? What if, as he suspected, Knowles and Margaret were a proper couple?
He cursed, thumping his thigh as a surge of anger burst inside him. That bitch had planned this. Met Knowles somehow and waited for the right time to run to him. Master hadn’t removed her collar, hadn’t given her permission to leave, so the chit had a cheek in thinking she had gained her liberty. Oh, he knew full well she probably thought she had the right to leave him whenever she chose, but as far as he was concerned, she should have obeyed his rules, not the lax, too-giving ones most other Doms and subs played by.
“She belongs to me until I choose to let her go.”
Master glanced at the clock. It was close to midnight and, despite the snow, he was ready to go out and put the next part of his plan into action. Shrugging on his coat, he left the house and drove off towards the countryside. The roads were treacherous the further he got from Manchester, but they weren’t so bad that he’d end up stranded. After all, no fresh snow had fallen for two days, and Knowles would have used this road to take Margaret shopping, so it wouldn’t be that bad.
He grimaced at the thought of his sub travelling these roads with that man.
He parked on the verge beside the entrance to Knowles’ property, his vehicle hidden by high hedges. The last thing he needed was for Knowles to hear him coming up the driveway. No, he wanted anonymity for what he was about to do, so that Knowles would definitely take Margaret to the club Sunday night. For all Master knew, Margaret had told her new Dom all about him. Yes, it was best Master remain incognito.
He tromped up the driveway, walking in a rut created by Knowles’ tyres, the packed-down snow slippery. Although Master wore gloves, his fingers were still cold, so he shoved his hands in his pockets.
At the house, he stared up at the impressive façade, nodding at the realisation of why Ruby had chosen Knowles. She’d gone with Master for his money, he was sure of it, and with Knowles having so much more, it stood to reason she’d find the lenient Dom a better prospect.
Master could only hope the teachings he’d instilled in her would win out in the end and he’d have her chained up in his house with no chance of running ever again.
He peered through a window beside the front door. The curtains hadn’t been drawn, which enabled him to spot a fire dying in the grate, the orange embers glowing, making him wish he sat before it. Yes, he could see himself living in a place like this.
His hate for Knowles grew further.
Reaching into his inside jacket pocket, he pulled out the six-by-six card he’d printed himself, quite impressed with how authentic it looked. He took the steps to the front door and slid the card through the letterbox, satisfied when a soft whisper of sound told him it had floated to the floor.
He nodded—a curt, one-dip-of-the-head action—and turned to face the road. He couldn’t see his Land Rover from here and suspected if Knowles was a light sleeper and heard the letterbox open, the man wouldn’t see it either if he looked out of an upstairs window.
Happy with how things were going, Master walked back down the driveway and got into his car, starting the engine and wincing at how loud it seemed out here in the sticks. No matter, there was nothing he could do about it now.
He drove home, congratulating himself on a job well done.
Tomorrow night he would see Margaret again.
Tomorrow night she’d wish she’d never been born.
Chapter Nine
Something brushed along Ruby’s cheek then down her neck. She moaned, batting at whatever caused her discomfort. She turned over in bed, mumbling. The stroking continued.
“All right, all right, I’m awake,” she grumbled and looked up int
o Harry’s beautiful eyes.
He sat on the end of the bed holding out a feather. “I couldn’t resist.”
“Is that how you wake up all your women?”
“No, usually I go for a little spanking session before shower sex,” he said, eyes sparkling. “Kidding. I came to see if you were hungry for some breakfast.”
Ruby smiled and her heart melted. He was the sweetest man she’d ever met. She lifted the blanket to her chin and waited for him to continue stroking and talking.
She frowned when he didn’t.
“What’s the matter?” he asked.
“I’m waiting for you to tell me what else we’re doing today.”
Master had always given her a list of what he hoped to accomplish and how he planned to dish out punishments. He even had a punishment scale of one to ten. She shuddered, remembering what happened to her when her star ended up on the naughty cloud.
Last night had been a revelation to her. Being spanked with a paddle then soothed with salve. Master used to slap so hard the pain crashed through her entire body, leaving her in no doubt of the pain he could cause with an implement. She would then be expected to get on all fours while he fucked her hard and rough, even though her arse was on fire and the welts almost bleeding. Master expected her to clean up her mess—if she was weak enough to bleed then she could clean up her own weakness.
“Hey, come back to me,” Harry said softly, holding her cheeks.
“You really are a special man,” she told him.
In her experience, no man ever cared about the woman they’d fucked. Last night, after sucking him off, she’d waited for him to leave her wanting as all other men she’d been with had. But he’d licked her and brought her to climax, knocking every other notion out of the water.
“I’m just a man like every other.”
“No, you’re not.”
Harry didn’t know how special he was. Ruby was going to be the one to show him how much.
He pulled away. “Do you like eggs and bacon?”
“A full English?”
How long had it been since she’d had so much food on one plate? Fried eggs, crispy bacon… What about a fried slice? She let the blanket drop and touched her small stomach. Was she still too fat? She pulled at the skin, shocked to see she struggled to get a firm grip on her own flesh.
“What are you doing, Ruby? Stop it.” He reached over and stopped her from hurting herself.
“Am I fat?” she asked, her heart breaking inside, the last straps of Master’s punishment still holding her firmly in place, it seemed.
Her weight had always fluctuated. Since Master had limited her food intake the pounds had fallen off, but she’d spent most of the time starving or feeling sick if she ate too much. Like yesterday when they’d eaten fish and chips. The food had been amazing—greasy and everything she’d craved—but soon after she’d had the desire to go and throw everything back up.
“Look at me, Ruby,” Harry demanded, forcing her with a hand on her chin to stare back. “You’re not fat and it will give me great pleasure to feed you.”
A tear settled in the corner of her eye, and he moved to catch it, but she pulled back to wipe it herself. How many times would she cry before she started to make noise? Every time she took a step forward she suddenly took two steps back. Here she was being a fucking cry baby again.
She smiled at him. “Yes, I’d love a full English.”
Would she be able to keep it down? Ruby gasped as Harry placed a hand over her concave stomach. His hand curved with it and she wondered what he was thinking. Did he find her repulsive? What would he think if he saw a picture of her prior to Master’s influence? She hadn’t been overweight but she’d been a lot more rounded with flesh on her bones rather than the protruding points now sticking out of her skin.
Harry leant down and kissed her on the forehead, pushing back strands of hair. “You’re a really beautiful woman and you should never think differently.”
“Would you like me with a little more meat on my bones?”
“Ruby, I’ll like you whatever way you come. It’s you here that I like.” He pressed a hand to her chest, over her heart.
Harry really knew how to say the nicest things to a girl. She covered his hand and brought it to her lips, laying kisses along his knuckles.
“Thank you.”
Harry looked at her for a while in silence. He seemed to want to say more but in the end he got up, extracted his hand and moved towards the door. He turned to look at her. “Until you’re ready to go, this is your home.”
As a parting shot it was powerful, but it reminded Ruby their time together would eventually come to an end, and she didn’t know if she’d be ready for it. After he left, she spent time getting washed and ready before going to her own room to pick an outfit they’d chosen together the previous day. Mini-skirts and short, tight tank tops were pushed aside. She wasn’t ready for them yet, but she could use the excuse of the cold to allow her to wrap up warm. Eventually, she decided on a pair of loose-fitting trousers—she’d need the room after her first full breakfast in years—and a plain white blouse. Her underwear was a simple cotton set.
Before leaving the comfort of her bedroom, she took the time to look in the mirror. Her reflection shocked her. The outfit highlighted her weight loss dramatically.
Ruby began to wonder why Master had picked her up at the library all those years ago if he would only ever be disappointed with her and want to change every single aspect of who she was as a person. To a point, she understood why he would want to change her attitude and the way she talked. Compared to a lot of people in the posh parts, she was rough-sounding, and to some even vulgar, but why would he stick it out torturing her to make her someone she clearly wasn’t? She’d noticed Harry wincing at some of her words and the way she talked. Did he find her offensive?
Shaking her head against the horrid thoughts, she quickly ran a brush through her hair and left the room following the delicious scent of eggs and bacon. Her tummy rumbled as the smell grew stronger, and she found him doing a flip-toss with some mushrooms in a pan. Harry turned when she entered, gesturing for her to sit at a place setting. A cup of coffee already awaited her. Cringing, she gingerly took a sip then smiled when she put the cup down. Bless him, he’d gone and brought her some cheap shit.
If he cared so much to make this extra effort, why did he want her gone in a couple of weeks? Ruby played with the fork on her mat and watched him work the stove. His fine arse called to her. Tight and firm. She imagined sinking her nails into the flesh as he rode her hard and fast, forcing her to take all of his huge cock. A blush heated her cheeks, and she attempted to cover it with her hands. Embarrassing to be caught ogling and fantasising about the man who’d come out into the cold to rescue you.
Several minutes later, he came over with two plates, each with a generous serving of bacon, mushrooms, sausages, fried eggs and beans, all finished off with crispy toast.
“Sorry, I didn’t get round to doing the fried slice,” he said.
Ruby laughed. After this treasure trove on her plate she’d be lucky to walk afterwards.
Harry pulled a newspaper and a card across the table and began to read.
Ruby ate her breakfast, forcing herself not to be nosy and not to see what he had. But she couldn’t resist asking, “Anything interesting in the paper?” Everything about the man who was fast becoming her ultimate crush intrigued her. He was far better than the Edward Cullens of this world. At least this guy was freaking real and she stood a chance of being fucked by him.
Would he go and watch the new Twilight movie with her? With Master, she’d been controlled to the degree he even monitored what she watched.
This is ridiculous, thinking about him. Stop being so bloody negative. Master is gone and not coming back into my life. Ever!
Harry cleared his throat. “Just the usual chaos and tragedy that is the norm these days in our small country.” He sighed, pushing the newspaper to one
side. He picked up the card, piercing a mushroom at the same time.
“I take it everything is bad news,” she said.
“If you count the crime and unemployment, then yes. If you count me sitting here enjoying my breakfast with a beautiful woman at my side, then no.”
Ruby could purr with all of his compliments. Harry frowned, turning the card over, then put it further away from them at the corner of the table. He ate his food without any further expression.
“What’s the matter?” she asked.
“Nothing, nothing.”
“You said ‘nothing’ twice, which usually means something’s wrong. Please tell me.”
She reached out and placed a comforting hand on his arm. He moaned and gave in, handing her the card. Ruby didn’t understand. It was a message about a Master-and-sub meeting. She flipped the card over to see if there were any more clues, but a black design covered the back.
“What is it?” she asked.
“Nothing to concern yourself with.”
“Is this the club you attend as a…a Master?” Ruby had heard of such meetings, but after being with her own Master, she’d never believed they really happened, let alone had men like Harry attending.
“Yes, a group of professional Masters get together at an exclusive club to talk and train new subs, among other things,” he said, drinking his cup of horse shit.
“You’re going tonight?”
“I go every Sunday but I think I’ll give it a miss tonight.”
They continued to eat in silence. The imposing card hogged all Ruby’s attention. Was it a sign for her to go with him? To take the next step and trust him with her body and mind out in the public eye? Among strangers who lived the lifestyle?
When her stomach pretty much complained it was full, Ruby put her plate away from her and picked up the card, twirling it in her fingers while waiting for Harry to finish eating. The corners dug into her skin, and the gold-embossed fancy writing continued to catch her eye.
Finally, after what felt like a lifetime, Harry finished and made to clear the table. Dropping the card, she took over.