Voyeur

by Sierra Cartwright

  “We…well…in the hallway, outside of one of the observation rooms…”

  “Do tell.”

  “I masturbated.”

  He gasped.

  “Jeez, Cousin Dary,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm, “you’ve done a whole lot worse than that. In public.”

  “But you’re the vestal virgin. I’m the pain whore.”

  “Shove it, cuz.”

  “Why’d you do it?”

  She knew he’d understand. “He told me to.”

  “And did you come?”

  “What do you think?”

  “Right there? In the hallway? Where God, queen, and country could see you?”

  She was shocked at her own behaviour.

  “You did it through your clothes, right?”

  “Uh. No. I pulled up my skirt.”

  “But you had your granny knickers on.”

  She blushed, even recounting the story. “They’re bikini briefs.”

  “My grandmother wears those. Ergo, granny knickers.”

  She rolled her eyes. “But no, I’d already taken them off.”

  “So you showed your cunny to the whole world?”

  She smacked her forehead. “Well, to anyone who walked by, I suppose.”

  “Darling! There is hope for you! You came out of your shell is what I say. And about bloody time, if you ask me. Which you did. So tell me about Master Zachary. How’d he break through? He used a crowbar to pry you away from your inhibitions. I know he did.”

  She finally laughed. “He’s amazing.”

  “Is his cock as gorgeous as the rest of him?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “You didn’t see his cock? Good Lord, girl. What is wrong with you? You need to correct that straight away.”

  “He didn’t ask for my telephone number.”

  “Ergo, he doesn’t want to fuck you. He doesn’t want you on your knees. He doesn’t want you to submit to him again.”

  “Well… Right.” Quickly she added, “He didn’t ask to come in last night.”

  “And you invited him?”

  “Not exactly.”

  “Do you hear how ridiculous you sound, lovie? He’s not like that, Marnie.”

  That was about as serious as Darius was about anything. She heard noise in the background.

  “Coming, Mistress!” he yelled, not even bothering to cover the receiver.

  Marnie’s ears rang.

  “Trust Cousin Dary. Master Zachary isn’t easily put off.”

  She wished she could be as certain.

  “Buh-Bye, you shameless hussy. Mistress is going to beat me now. My whole body is wiggling. Kiss, kiss.”

  She groaned again, then rang off.

  She was still holding the phone when there was a knock at the door. Her heart lurched.

  It couldn’t be…

  It was.

  Her breath whooshed out.

  “Zachary.”

  “Master Zachary,” he corrected. “Or Master, if you prefer.”

  The man commanded respect, and he would, regardless of whether or not he was a Dom. His shoulders filled her doorway.

  He was dressed similarly to last night, but instead of a black T-shirt, today’s was a deep grey, and he wore a brown leather bomber jacket. His hair was damp from the drizzle, and he smelled of spice and wide-open spaces.

  Darius was right.

  Master Zachary was delicious.

  She opened the door wide, and he accepted her silent invitation. After he was in, she turned the lock, then, when her knees buckled, she leant against the door for support. He’d only come in a few steps, and he overwhelmed the space with his size. “I was afraid I would never see you again.”

  “No chance,” he said. “I’m too intrigued.” He’d obviously noted her reactions, and quietly he added, “I like my subs to greet me on their knees.”

  “You have a lot of them, do you?”

  “More than I can count.”

  A nasty little emotion that might have been jealousy gnawed on her ego. His smile was a salve on the wound.

  “On your knees, sub.”

  She wished she was dressed differently, in a skirt or a dress instead of jeans and sweater. Her feet were bare. She couldn’t have appeared less desirable, if she’d tried.

  But he didn’t seem to notice, or care.

  “Do you need me to repeat the command?”

  At the sharpness in his voice, she shook her head. Her nerves were stretched to the breaking point. She knelt awkwardly, feeling completely overwhelmed.

  “Very nice,” he approved.

  Something dangerous happened to her insides. She wanted this man’s approval. Every kind word made her want to do better, to please him more.

  “I notice, again, you didn’t tell me to go to hell.”

  “Was that an option?”

  “It’s always an option.” Changing topics so fast her mind spun, he asked, “Did you masturbate when you got home?”

  “Yes.”

  “You didn’t have permission to do that.”

  She glanced down.

  “Look at me.”

  She jumped. His voice stung, like a whiplash. Her heart thundering, she obeyed.

  “All Doms are different. If you’ve done some reading, you may have correctly assumed that you’re to keep your gaze cast down, in the absence of another command. But you’ve already interacted with me. I am not mercurial. I tell you specifically what I expect, and last night, I told you I always want your gaze on me, did I not?”

  She licked her upper lip as she nodded.

  “Part of being a good sub is reading subtle clues. Beyond that, you should listen completely to every word I say so that you’ll know my preferences and desires.”

  He took another step towards her. She was forced to tip her head back even further to see him.

  “There will be times you’ll be blindfolded, even hooded.”

  Fear made goose bumps prickle her arms.

  “Then, you will be completely reliant on your other senses. Of touch. For example, if you are collared and leashed, you’ll know whether to stand or kneel or walk, just from my pressure on your lead.”

  “I… I understand—”

  “Yes, Master,” he corrected.

  She was quickly losing the ability to think at all. “Yes, Master.”

  “Forgetting again will result in swift correction.”

  Marnie nodded. “Yes, Master,” she whispered dutifully. Oh God, she wanted this. Her books and her imagination were no longer enough. Seeing Master Theodore and Susanna’s scene last night had left her desperate to experiment. The taste of Zachary’s dominance last night had fed no less than three orgasms, leaving her hungry for more.

  “When you are unable to see, my voice will be your guide.” He folded his arms across his chest.

  He filled her vision, overwhelming her completely. Unbelievably, her pussy felt moist.

  “Being a good sub, Marnie, is not just about punishment and reward. It’s much deeper, much more complex. It’s about putting aside your inhibitions. It’s about getting out of your own way. It’s about surrender, and ultimately, through that surrender, it’s about freedom to be who you are and experience everything you desire.”

  She wasn’t completely certain she understood.

  “To succeed, you must focus on what your Master commands. As you’ve already learnt, I am very visually oriented. How you look is very important to me.”

  She curled her hands into fists at her sides. She’d told him she didn’t like her body. Despite her efforts, she would never have a flat stomach or a tight, little arse.

  “And I think you’re lovely, despite what you think.”

  Her jaw nearly dropped open.

  “So the way you’re presented, even if you’re not comfortable with it, matters a great deal to me.”

  “I’m not sure I follow.”

  “A butt plug, for example. I told you last night, I want to see you i
n one with a jewelled end. Or I might prefer glass, one that stretches your sphincter and lets me see inside you when you bend over.”

  Her fingernails dug into her palms.

  “Every time we are together, and often, even when we are apart, you will be presented in a way that pleases me. I want to look at you. You’ll hide nothing from me. Is there anything unclear in that statement?”

  “Master was crystal clear.”

  “Last night, before I allowed you to climax, didn’t I tell you it would be a long time before you were allowed that privilege again?”

  And he’d instructed her specifically how to answer his questions. “Yes, Master. You did.”

  “And you didn’t believe that was a command?”

  Since he’d see through anything else, she opted for total honesty. “I didn’t know if you were serious, if it was just an evening’s entertainment for you. I wasn’t sure you would contact me again.”

  “I told you I would.”

  “But—”

  “I have been a soldier, and I am a man of my word. You will never second guess with me. Make no mistake, sub, this is about trust. I will tell you the truth, always. I expect the same from you. No prevarication. When asked a question, you’ll give a truthful answer. When you’re uncertain about something, you’ll ask for guidance. Clear?”

  “Very, Master.”

  “In return, you must trust that I always have your interests in mind, even when you wonder otherwise.”

  There was comfort in that, less game playing than in any of her other relationships.

  “Before we go any further, we’re going to talk, Marnie. Do you have tea?”

  She blinked. He couldn’t have kept her more off balance if he knocked her over. “Tea? Like you want me to brew up for you?”

  “Service is part of being a sub,” he said.

  Awkwardly getting back to her feet, she led the way into the small kitchen. The space was even smaller and more intimate with him in it. She liked having him here; and she’d like it a lot better if her nerves didn’t have her clattering the teacups and saucers. In all the books she’d read, when a submissive served his or her Master, they did it with grace. Obviously she had a lot to learn.

  “I asked about you.” He lazed against the doorjamb, watching her work. He’d folded his arms across his chest. Even without trying to, he dominated whatever space he was in. “At the club. And this morning I called a couple of people who know you.”

  “Who?”

  “Mistress Jennifer and Darius.”

  “You…” The tea kettle shrilled and she yanked it off the stove. “That little…”

  “What?”

  “Darius called me. He pretended to know nothing.” She overfilled the teapot and had to grab a cloth to clean up the water mess.

  “They’re protective of you. Both of them wanted to know what my intentions towards you were.”

  “And?” She tossed the wet cloth into the sink. Then she asked the question she absolutely had to have answered. “What are your intentions?”

  Chapter Four

  “My intentions towards you?” he repeated. “Completely dishonourable.”

  Her tummy took a plunge.

  “And I’ll make sure you enjoy every moment of it.”

  While the tea steeped, she leant up against the counter.

  He moved into the small space, shrugged out of his leather jacket and placed it across the back of a chair. He was so totally sexy. He dwarfed the area, crowding her, even without intending to.

  “Last night, I had a hard-on. I stroked my cock, thinking about spanking your arse.”

  She blinked. She wasn’t sure what shocked her more, the fact that being with her had given him a hard-on, or the fact that he’d been thinking about her when he’d beat off.

  Without an invitation, he took a seat at the table.

  “I’ve been hard all day.”

  She served him, noting how natural it felt once she stopped second guessing her every action.

  She stood there, not quite certain what he expected. Should she sit at the table across from him? Kneel?

  He subtly inclined his head. Realising it was one of those visual clues that he mentioned, she pulled back a chair and sat across from him.

  “Nicely done,” he said.

  She could easily become addicted to his approval.

  He stirred milk into his tea. She added milk and sugar to hers. For a moment, this felt natural and homey, and she started to relax.

  “You’ve now had two experiences with me as your Dom. You’ve been to Master Theodore’s home, at least twice. You have a friend who’s a sub. You’re evidently well-read. And now I’m giving you a choice. You can decide to submit to me―”

  She finished his sentence for him. “Or I can tell you to go to hell.”

  He grinned. “You always have that option,” he agreed.

  “I want to be your submissive,” she said, her voice hardly over a whisper.

  “Then you’ll need a safe word.”

  This was surreal. Before last night, she’d never really dreamt this would happen to her. “Monkey.”

  His cup clattered back onto its saucer. “Monkey?”

  “When I was a kid, I was always climbing on things. My mum always teased that I was part monkey.”

  “And you’ll remember that if a scene gets too intense?”

  “I will.”

  “Monkey it is, then.”

  “And when am I supposed to use my safe word?”

  “Ideally, never. Just as I expect you to read my visual clues, I will read yours. As my sub, you will be in my care completely. I take that obligation seriously. I want to push you to your limits. Then I want to push you past them.”

  Her heart rate had slowed when she sat across from him, now it accelerated again.

  “I will do it respectfully, aware of where you can and cannot go. But I will do it. If we are to be successful, Marnie, you’ll need to trust me. But I won’t ask for it, I won’t demand it, I’ll earn it. My promise to you is that I will always stay in control. I will never punish you from a place of anger…”

  “You’ll never punish me?”

  He shook his head. “When you deserve punishment, you’ll receive it. But if I am angry, I will wait until I am not.”

  He paused, and she knew he gave her a chance to back out.

  “I don’t play at dominance and submission,” he said. “I live it. If you’re my sub, you’re my sub. That doesn’t mean you can’t use a safe word or tell me to go to hell. But I expect obedience, and failure to be obedient will result in swift punishment. You need to be aware of that before you tell me yes.”

  “Honestly? I can tell you to go to hell at anytime?”

  “You can. And if you do, you’ll not hear from me again. I respect your decision to quit at any time.”

  “In that case, yes. I want to submit.”

  “Let your hair down.”

  She pulled out the chopsticks she’d stabbed through her hair while she took a bath. He took the two polished strips of wood from her.

  “They’re different from the ones before.”

  “Made out of teak. I have a small collection.” She shook out her hair, feeling its weight on her neck.

  “Now strip and kneel.”

  She blinked. That was it? No more preamble? No sweet words? No warm up? “Now? Here?”

  Instead of answering her, he silently regarded her. There was no compromise in the unyielding set of his jaw.

  She’d thought they might ease into it, but that was obviously not his intention. Remembering what he’d said about wanting to look at her, she stood.

  Her hands shook slightly as she pulled her sweater over her head and dropped it onto the floor.

  “In the absence of specific instruction in the future,” he said, “please assume you are to be naked in my presence.”

  Next, she lowered the zipper on her jeans, then shimmied them over her hips and down her thighs.r />
  “You’re not to wear knickers again.”

  She opened her mouth to protest, but he silenced her with a brief shake of his head.

  Already, she was coming to rely on his visual clues.

  He finished his tea, then moved the cup and saucer to the middle of the table.

  She unhooked her bra. Then, self-consciously, she shrugged the straps from her shoulders and allowed the material to puddle on the floor with the rest of her clothing.

  In the chilled air, her nipples pebbled.

  “Beautiful.” He paused. “Now the knickers.”

  In seconds, she stood before him, completely nude. She wished she’d trimmed after her earlier bath; it was all she could do to resist the temptation to cover her mound with her hands. When she started to, he arched a brow. Instantly she dropped her hands and lowered herself to her knees.

  “Do you have lube?”

  “In the drawer of my nightstand. Beside my bed.”

  He left her there, and she fidgeted. Her insides were tumbling. She knew that in her bedroom, he’d find her vibrator, an expensive little thing she’d bought on a trip to Spain. If he searched any other drawers, he would find her reading literature, her magazines, and her naughty little secret nipple clamps.

  She waited impatiently.

  He was taking way too damn long, giving her too much time to wonder what he intended to do next. She laced her fingers and placed her hands on her stomach, then unlaced them and dropped her arms to her sides. The subs she’d seen at Master Theodore and Susanna’s house always seemed to know what to do with their hands. They stayed still. Some of them even seemed serene. That word definitely didn’t describe how she felt.

  He returned and placed several items on the counter. She tracked his every motion with her gaze.

  “You have several magazines,” he said. “BDSM ones.”

  So much for privacy. “Yes,” she admitted.

  “And nipple clamps.”

  Why was admitting all these things so difficult?

  “They could use some weights on them. I’ll see to that.” He regarded her. “Problem?”

  “Sub likes the pressure of the clamps just as they are.”