by Leah Braemel
“I’m sorry for speaking out of turn, Master,” Rosie said. “And I’m sorry I forgot to call you Master, Master.”
“Apology accepted but I will still have to discipline you. Later.” Once he figured out what she was after. “Pull that chair over and put one foot up on it.” Once she’d obeyed him, he said, “Now play with yourself. Pinch your nipples and get them good and hard, and make your sweet little pussy real wet. And don’t leave your position or stop pleasuring yourself until I return.”
“Yes, Master.”
He flicked off the light beside him, and turned on a halogen above her, spotlighting her. Turning his back on her, he snagged the contract and list she’d left on his desk, then walked into the bedroom. He ditched his suit, exchanging it for a black silk shirt and set of leather pants with a laced fly that would let him completely free both his cock and his balls. “You playin’ with yourself like I told you?”
“Yes, Master. I’m SO hot.”
He snorted quietly at her exaggerated tone. A check of the list revealed little he hadn’t already guessed about her preferences. Hmm, that was interesting. Where he’d have bet big money she’d check “definitely not” under ménage, she’d checked “might consider”. And she’d checked “definitely” in the flogging and spanking column. A scan of the rest of the items showed, with few exceptions, Miss Rosalinda Ramos was game for just about anything he would want to do with her.
“Does the idea that someone might be watching me masturbate make you jealous, Master? Or does it make you horny?”
Oh, yeah, she was deliberately racking up the points. Getting her to submit, to obey him, was going to be such a challenge.
“Just keep touching yourself, Princesa. And you’re up to punishment number three.” He opened his safe room, and ran a finger along the shelf containing his collection of dildos and butt plugs, choosing a remote control vibrator that would pay particular attention to her G-spot. He tucked the remote in his pocket so she wouldn’t realize it would vibrate. Yet.
If she’d done what he’d told her, he probably wouldn’t need any lube, but he grabbed a tube just in case, then added a harness.
She was where he’d left her, following his instructions to the letter. A light sheen of sweat dewed her skin. Lord, what a picture she made, her skin and fingers glistening under the halogen, her nipples dark, hard berries waiting to be suckled. And…oh, yeah, those little hitches in her breath she made when she was close to orgasm were starting.
He palmed his groin, resettling his burgeoning cock. “That’s another rule. You are not allowed to come unless I give you permission.”
He allowed her a huff of exasperation. It was his fault he hadn’t reminded her of that rule beforehand.
Standing behind her, he cupped her mons, letting his fingers trail through the slick cream coating her labia. “Very nice.” He withdrew his fingers and drew them across her lips. “Lick your lips, baby. Taste how sweet you are.”
Her tongue slowly slid over her top lip then she turned her head and looked up at him. “Don’t you want a taste, Master?”
“Baby, you’re going to have to remember you’re not supposed to speak. That makes punishment number four.” Before she could protest, he captured her mouth with his. While she was distracted, he slid the dildo into her, rotating it so its curve would press against her most sensitive spot every time she moved. She’d tell him later that was mean, and maybe it was, but she had to learn to control her orgasm to his command.
He draped the leather harness over her shoulder and stepped away. “Put that on.”
“Yes, Master.”
He grabbed the chair she’d braced herself on and turned it around to face the window, then tossed a throw pillow on the floor. No need in her hurting her knees. He sat down, splaying his legs wide and pointed to the floor between them. “Kneel.”
After unlacing his fly and freeing his cock, he stroked himself. “You know what I want, Princesa.”
“Yes, Master.”
She bent over him, her hair brushing his thighs in a silken caress. When she put her lips around his cock, he buried his fingers in her hair. “Remember, I can come, but you can’t.”
His cock filling her mouth, she muttered something indecipherable. The vibrations drove him insane so he decided to share the experience by using the remote to her vibrator. When she realized what he’d done, he held her head in place and pumped his cock deep into her mouth. From the way she squirmed, he could tell the vibrator was doing its job, driving her as insane as she was driving him.
Her tongue flattened against his length, her cheeks hollowing as she sucked him deep. The little moans she made drove him over the edge, his climax rocketing through him.
As she licked the lingering drops of come from his head, she smiled up at him. Damn she looked so perfect there. She’d look even better lying beneath him on the couch, her eyes unfocussed as he drove into her. But tonight, she was playing a game, thinking she knew about the lifestyle. So he’d show her exactly what happened when you played with fire.
“Go make me dinner, Princesa. Your master’s hungry.”
“Aren’t you—” A look of disappointment flickered across her face, mutating into frustration. “Yes, Master.”
Smiling to himself, he removed a cigar from his humidor and listened to her muttering to herself as she banged pots and pans in the kitchen. She’d expected him to reciprocate, to let her climax in return. Soon, she’d realize his denial of her pleasure was part of her training. Would she be so enthusiastic about her training when she realized she’d have to hand over such control to him?
Realizing Rosie was being extremely quiet, he wandered into the kitchen, and found her grabbing the counter with both hands, hunched over as she panted.
He hurried to her side. “What’s the matter, Rosebud?”
She could barely breath as she glared at him. “I’m trying really hard here not to come, goddamn it.” She closed her eyes and forced her breath out through her teeth. “Oh, God, Sam, I need to come so bad.”
“Poor little Rosebud, I left the vibrator going, didn’t I?” He wrapped one arm around her waist, and pulled her back against him. He dipped his fingers into the cleft between her legs. “Come for me, Rosie.”
It took only a single swipe of his finger over her swollen clit before she shook in release. They stood entwined, Rosie trembling as the aftershocks died down. He could have stood there forever, holding her, comforting her. Loving her.
After turning off the vibrator, he bent down and kissed her. “You go take out the vibrator and I’ll help you with dinner.”
The meal was almost complete when his Berry buzzed, Andy texting him that he was about to have visitors. Ah, now this might be an interesting test for her resolve. Sam composed a reply instructing Andy to allow his guests through but to go back into the apartment and leave the hallway clear. When the doorbell chimed, she looked to him, frowning when he didn’t get it.
“Someone’s at the door, Princesa. Wouldn’t do to keep them waiting.”
She turned slowly, carefully placing a paring knife down on the table. Ooops, good thing it wasn’t stickin’ in the cabinet an inch from his head. Or in the middle of his forehead. He had a feelin’ she had a damned good aim.
“You expect me to answer the door naked?”
“Yup. Andy’s back in his apartment, so no one will see you.”
“Did you forget about the cameras monitoring your door? Master.”
Crap. He had.
He pulled a face and shrugged out of his shirt. “Here, put this on.”
The doorbell chimed a second time just as he reached the front door. “Hey, Thalia, what brings you to the neighborhood?”
Spencer pushed Thalia into Sam’s foyer before Thalia replied, “Jocelyne invited us to dinner. After seeing Rosie’s little show in the window, I thought I’d drop in. Since I’m in the neighborhood.”
“Wasn’t that convenient for you? I’m surprised you didn’t co
nvince Jocelyne and Robert to come here with you.”
Thalia chuckled. “Next time perhaps. Robert thanks you for the show, by the way.”
Sam shut the door behind Spencer and called, “Rosie, come out here and greet our guests.” He lowered his voice. “I want to know exactly what you said and showed Rosie at the club the other day. Everything, Thalia.”
Rosie peered around the corner. His shirt enveloped her like a dress, reaching nearly to her knees. And damned if that didn’t look just as sexy as when she was naked.
“Hello, Thalia. Spencer. I’m, uh, just in the middle of making dinner.”
“Come here, Princesa.”
Muttering under her breath, she took a deep breath and stepped to the middle of the doorway, her hands clasped in front.
“Rosalinda,” Sam growled when she didn’t come any closer. “Come. Here.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
Thank God, Sam had given her his shirt. Although considering Spencer had stripped down in front of her, maybe Thalia would insist she do the same. A sort of quid pro quo. Damned if the idea of stripping down wasn’t making her horny.
A quick glance showed the only eyes on her were Thalia’s and Sam’s which were shuttered, his emotion unreadable. Spencer stood in proper submissive form, two paces behind Thalia’s chair, eyes on his toes.
“Rosie, your master has given you an order,” Thalia said quietly. “By hesitating, you defy him which not only insults him, but embarrasses him in front of his guests.”
Order? Oh, right, Sam asked her to go over there. Her legs carried her to the middle of the foyer, just in front of Sam, and assumed a position mirroring Spencer’s. “I’m sorry for insulting you, Master.”
Shit, this submission stuff was tough when there were witnesses.
“How is dinner progressing?” Sam asked, just a little too casually.
She narrowed her eyes at him, then glanced at Thalia who smiled right back at her. “It’ll be a while yet. Master.”
“Will you be joining me, Thalia?”
“Thank you, but no, I’ve already eaten.”
He nodded. “Princesa, you may continue cooking. When dinner’s ready, you will wait for me beside the table.”
Thalia waved a hand toward the kitchen. “Spencer, help Master Samuel’s slave.”
Did he think that just because she wasn’t in the room she couldn’t guess they were going to talk about her? It was like being back in high school where the rich kids huddled together in their group and snickered at the kids from the barrio. Gritting her teeth, Rosie tromped into the kitchen and pulled two dishes from the cupboard.
“You’ll only need one place setting,” Spencer whispered. “Slaves eat what their master or mistress serve from their own plates.”
With a huff, she shoved a plate back into the cabinet, wincing slightly at the crash it made. At least it hadn’t broken.
“Tell me you didn’t, that she didn’t.” Sam’s voice rose, echoing through both the foyer and living room. “What the hell were you thinking?”
The rest faded back down to a harsh whisper, low enough that she couldn’t hear what they were talking about. But she had a pretty good idea, especially when he practically shouted, “She what?” followed by “Rosalinda. Get your ass out here. Now.”
Drawing herself up to her full five foot one, she sauntered to foyer as if she were a queen. “You called, Master?”
“I understand you disobeyed my orders and left the office area of the club the other day. And that you’ve since returned several times.”
Oops.
Narrowing her eyes, Rosie shot a glance at Thalia. So much for women sticking together.
“I also understand,” Sam continued through clenched teeth, “that you helped punish Spencer this afternoon.”
“I— Yes, Master. Mistress Thalia—” was that how she was supposed to address another slave’s mistress? “—Mistress Thalia was instructing me in the use of a flogger. She wanted me to demonstrate my ability with it.”
“Were you aware that by administering the punishment to her slave, you bestowed her the right to administer punishment to you if she caught you misbehaving?” Every Hauberk employee had heard the legend that when Sam’s voice got quieter, when he lost his drawl completely, he was beyond anger and it was every man for himself.
She took a half-step back and ran smack dab into Spencer. Oh, crap. Did that mean she was Thalia’s slave? “As my master, isn’t it your duty to administer punishments? Your right?”
“It should have been my privilege, but the club rules are that in accepting the flogger from her, you granted her the right.” If his teeth clenched any tighter, they’d shatter. “Let’s get this over with.”
He stalked down the hall and into the bedroom.
“Why didn’t you tell me you would get to do this, not him?” Rosie snapped.
“You have to trust me on this, Rosie. It’s for Sam’s own good.”
“Sam’s good? I’m the one whose ass is about to get flogged.”
“All part of your training, my dear. Now you’d better follow him before he completely loses his patience and doubles your punishment.” Thalia signaled to Spencer to take his position behind her chair.
Her heart beating so fast and so loud she could hear the whooshing of blood in her ears, Rosie followed them to the bedroom. If she’d been facing just Sam, she knew she’d be running to follow him, as horny as hell. But knowing it would be Thalia wielding the whip, her confidence fled so quickly she was surprised they hadn’t heard a sonic boom.
Sam stood in the walk-in closet, the panel hiding his secret room wide open.
“Come here.”
Hoping her legs wouldn’t give out and betray her nervousness, Rosie strode into the room. When he snorted, she realized she’d made a mistake by not acting surprised at the room’s existence.
He pointed to the bench. “Kneel down on the lower part of the bench then grab the handles on the other end.”
“Yes, Master.” Wiping her palms on her thighs, she followed his instructions so she ended up in the same position Spencer had been earlier.
Leaning over her, Sam adjusted her so her ass was even higher in the air, then firmly fastened the leather restraints around her legs and wrists, along with a strap over her waist. There was no way she could move if she’d wanted to. Which probably a good thing because she was beginning to shake.
Satisfied she couldn’t move, he opened the cabinet containing the floggers and stepped aside so Thalia could choose from the selection.
“She’s never been flogged before so I have no idea what level of pain she can take.” His voice was flat. Cold.
The shaking in her legs increased.
“She’ll take what is administered,” Thalia replied calmly. “Spencer, we’ll use the deerskin.”
Rosie jerked against her bindings. Would Thalia be administering her flogging? Or Spencer? Crap. Once she’d seen his reaction, she hadn’t held back that afternoon. Would he try to return the favor? Would Thalia be any less forgiving? Between the two of them she knew she didn’t stand a chance.
Sam returned, crouching down so she could see his face. “You are so in over your head, baby, and I can’t help you. Just remember, if it gets too much, don’t be afraid to use your safe word. But once you use it, the scene is ended. Completely. And you’ll be sleeping alone tonight.”
She had a feeling that, with or without the safe word, he’d never allow her to try another scene again. Why hadn’t Thalia told her what administering Spencer’s punishment meant? She wanted Sam to be the one punishing her. Wanted him holding the whip, not Spencer. Not even Thalia.
“How many stripes did you give Spencer, Princesa?” he asked quietly.
“Ten. I was supposed to give him twenty but I chickened out.” Because it had made her too horny, but suddenly she didn’t want to admit that to him.
He winced. “Damn it, Rosie, that means Thalia can give you ten tonight, and you only deserve
a third of that. Why in hell did you leave the office area when I specifically told you not to?”
Because she’d trusted Thalia. Something she wasn’t going to do again any time soon. And gave her somewhere else to look in her hunt for the stalker. Maybe despite Thalia’s insistence that she didn’t hold Sam to blame, there was a lingering resentment.
“I’m sorry. I wish it was you giving me the punishment.”
Oh boy, did she wish it was him. With him she knew she’d come with no problem. With him, she’d be begging him for more.
“Do you wish your slave to be ball gagged, Samuel?” Thalia called.
“No. If she wants to use her safe word, I want to be able to hear it. And she’s not my slave.”
“Has she any device inside her that will stimulate her?”
“No.”
There was a pause. Then the sound of a drawer sliding open. “Use this one.” Was she choosing a different flogger? One that would hurt more, or less?
Two seconds later, she jumped when someone touched her labia. Her face flamed that Spencer might have touched her so intimately.
“Sam?”
“It’s all right, baby, it’s me.” Something cool pressed against her labia, and slid deep inside her vagina. Shoot. Another dildo. A big one. Hopefully this one wouldn’t vibrate, her inner tissues were still sensitive from the orgasm she’d just had. But who had inserted it.
Sam smoothed a hand over her behind before stepping back into her sight.
“Now that she’s ready,” Thalia said, “we shall begin.”
Rosie jerked against the restraints at the sound of a flogger striking something. She waited for the burn on her ass, but none came.
As if sensing Rosie’s rising panic, Sam placed a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “Stop trying to psyche her out, Thalia. Just get it over with. You’ve got ten lashes. No more.”
He knelt down so she could see his face, putting his hand over hers. “Look at me, baby. I’m right here.”
As soon as he’d finished speaking, the flogger snapped across her ass. She let fly a curse. Damn, it stung more than when Sam had spanked her. She scrunched her eyes closed as the flogger cracked through the air again.