“There’s not much you can do for Rick though,” Laura added, and their laughter died away. “It was hard to watch Master Gerard doing that to him.” She placed her hand on Morgan’s shoulder. “I can only imagine how terrified you must have been when he attacked you, Morgan.”
“It was pretty damn scary,” Morgan admitted. “I wet myself, I was so scared. I honestly thought for a second he was going to stab me with those scissors. I guess I should be grateful he only chopped off my hair.”
“And he should be grateful that you didn’t press charges, the rat bastard,” Tara said. “Though I get why you didn’t. Despite people pretending they get the BDSM lifestyle because they’ve seen a couple of movies about it or read that goofy trilogy, most vanilla types don’t get it at all. They aren’t hardwired to experience the pure, intense joy of erotic pain and sexual submission, and most of them still think we’re just a bunch of pervs waving around our whips and chains.”
“But he really was sorry, don’t you think, Tara?” Laura said. “Would having him arrested and possibly jailed for assault really accomplish anything except maybe ruin his life? I think Master Gerard’s idea of an anger management program is brilliant. Rick’s jealousy and temper have been issues since I’ve known him, but this time he went way too far. While I’m terribly sorry, Morgan, for what he did to you, maybe this was the catalyst that finally made Master Gerard see something had to be done.”
“And I agree,” Morgan said, “that he really was sorry. I think losing Master Gerard’s collar was the hardest for him, even harder than having his head shaved. In spite of his vanity, I think he really does love Master Gerard, and the threat of losing that love as well as his place at the Chateau really brought home the import of what he’d done.”
“I just wish he could have gotten there without terrorizing you,” Laura said, tears in her kind eyes.
“But the day hasn’t been completely bad, huh?” Tara said with a sudden grin. “I mean, something’s obviously going on between you and your trainer, right? He spent the morning in your bedroom with you, and correct me if I’m wrong, but I doubt you guys were doing positions training.”
Morgan laughed. “Yeah, you should talk, Miss Making-Out-in-the-Kitchen-with-Scott.”
“That’s not the only place they make out,” Laura interjected with a laugh. “I’ve stumbled on them more than once when they thought no one was around. Jeez, you guys. Get a room.”
Tara actually blushed, though she was grinning. She shrugged. “What can I say? Love appears in strange places sometimes. He might be a rebound from Master Henry, but he is awfully cute. And with me, he seems to remember his Dom side, so it’s a win-win.”
Morgan glanced at Laura, wondering suddenly if the house slave was lonely—the only one now without her own guy. Laura caught her eye and, as if reading her mind, smiled and gently shook her head. “I’m really fine, Morgan. I’m happy right now, and content to wait until Master Right comes along. Truly, I am. I got married really young—barely eighteen, and to the wrong guy. I wasn’t sure enough of myself back then to articulate or even fully understand my submissive and masochistic needs, and he was the consummate alpha dude, at least I thought he was. Frank was very controlling, and he liked rough sex, but he totally didn’t understand the nuance and grace of genuine D/s. He just thought it was about slamming me on the bed and getting all caveman on me. The marriage was doomed from the start.”
“Wow, you never told me this stuff. How long were you married?” Tara asked.
“Four years. Which was about four years longer than we should have stayed together,” Laura quipped. “After that, I got pretty heavily into the BDSM scene in the city, which is where I met Master Kurt. We were together for four years, too, and, while I thought I was happy with him at the time, looking back, he wasn’t all that different from Frank. He was basically a bully who dressed up in Dom’s clothing to sanction his behavior.” She sighed, though she was still smiling. “I guess I’m a really slow study. But I get it now. Here at the Chateau, I’ve learned about genuine, loving D/s relationships. Michael and Claudette have been together for over twenty years, and I swear they’re more in love with each other every day.”
“But doesn’t Claudette get jealous?” Morgan blurted, recalling Claudette’s calm demeanor as she delivered Morgan to her husband’s bedroom. “It’s got to be hard for her.”
“Well, don’t forget,” Laura said, “there’s a big difference between training and making love. What Master Michael does with the trainees and house slaves is very different from what he shares with Mistress Claudette.”
“Plus, she’s cool with the way they play because they’re both polys.”
“They’re both what-ees?” Morgan asked.
“Polyamory is the official term,” Laura explained. “Because of my orientation as a sub, I’ve learned to let go of ideas I grew up with of one man/one woman. Some people’s orientation allows them to love more than one person at a time, and be involved in more than one romance at a time. It can be tough when one part of the couple is a poly, and the other is a monogamist, but it can definitely be done. I think BDSM lends itself well to polyamory, because of the concept of sexual ownership. Since I belong to my Master, willingly and happily, then I am happy to be used as it pleases him. So if it pleases him to give me to someone else for an hour or a day or whatever, then it pleases me. But I still think of myself as monogamous, because my heart belongs only to him.”
“Even if it’s hard, it’s a good test of submission,” Tara added. “If you and Aaron end up as a couple, and he continues to train subs for a living, you better get used to him being with other women in a very intimate way, even if he comes home to you at the end of the day.”
“Whoa,” Morgan said with a happy laugh at the thought of Aaron coming home to her. “I still don’t know what the heck’s really going on between us, and you already have us living together. Slow down.”
“Is he amazing in bed?” Tara said, lowering her voice conspiratorially. “When he was training me, I half fell in love with him. Not just because he’s so fucking hot, but because of how he takes such complete control. I bet he’s fucking awesome in bed.”
“Tara,” Laura said with a shocked laugh. “You’re getting a little too much in Morgan’s private business, don’t you think?”
“Come on, Miss Goody-Two-Shoes, you know you’re dying to know, too. Aaron’s the only guy to come through this place who’s never taken at least one of the house slaves or trainees to bed, but now he’s gone and done it with Morgan. She owes it to us to at least tell us what it was like.”
Morgan laughed, both embarrassed and pleased at the attention of her new friends. “If you really want to know, we just took a nap,” she said, keeping her face deadpan straight.
Both girls’ faces fell, and they slumped as if someone had just let the air out of them. Unable to keep it up for long, Morgan burst out laughing. “Okay, okay. No way I could just sleep next to a guy like that. And yes”—she turned to Tara—“it was, to quote you, fucking awesome.”
~*~
Though their training regime continued much as before, Aaron was stunned at the difference in Morgan’s progress. It was hard to believe this was the same flirtatious, inexperienced girl who’d waltzed into the Chateau nearly two weeks ago, blithely signing on for training with very little idea of what she was getting herself into.
Though she continued to eat in the slaves’ dining room at mealtimes, she had moved into his bedroom, where they slept wrapped in each other’s arms each night. Aaron had thought he’d been in love before, but understood now those were just practice sessions for the real thing. Even if she hadn’t been submissive, he loved her fiery spirit, her passion and her drive, not to mention her physical beauty. And though he’d come to learn she hadn’t had much formal education, she had a very agile mind, and was curious and eager to learn.
But it was the D/s that really bound them together, with no pun intended. When he’d f
irst begun to train her, he’d doubted she had much submissive potential, but had been determined to do his best by her nonetheless. But since his return from London, her eagerness to learn and ability to trust had been breathtaking. Yet, when he’d shared some of her incredible progress with Michael, Gerard and Claudette at the dinner table the night before, no one had been at all surprised.
“It’s love, of course,” Michael had said as Claudette nodded beside him. “Love makes all the difference. Training is all very well, and we can definitely teach subs how to deepen their experience and give more fully of themselves, but when you add love to the mix, it’s like moving from riding a cart and pony to suddenly flying a rocket ship.”
“And it’s also the trust that goes with love that makes a huge difference,” Gerard had added. “I’m realizing with Rick gone for this week that, while we both claimed to love each other, we didn’t really trust each other—not the way I hope we will come to when he returns. I teased him by taking others to my bed, but I didn’t give him the tools to accept my choices with submissive grace. When he comes back, assuming things work out between us, I plan to be more mindful of how important trust is in a D/s relationship. I want to be a strong Master for him, in every sense.”
“The essence of strength, is not in overpowering others but in mastering oneself,” Claudette had wisely added in her pleasing, accented voice. “Love is giving, as well as receiving, and when one has once known love, one sees conquest as the act of a weak and selfish person, the momentary satisfaction of an appetite, the very opposite of a true Dom.”
Aaron had thought a lot about those words, and he was determined to be the best Dom he could be for Morgan, if she’d have him. Today was the last day of her training, and tonight the owners of the Chateau had planned a major party, to which Morgan’s boss, Tom, had been invited, along with Diana’s Master, who would be taking her home, and Richard Cameron, who was going to take formal possession of Kristen. Aaron had a plan of his own, but he would keep it to himself until the time was right.
Meanwhile, Morgan was waiting patiently for him in the positions studio. They had been doing a fair amount of cane work over the past few days, and today would be the culmination of what she had learned.
He entered the room quietly, catching his breath as he took in the sight of her. Claudette had prepared her, and she stood still in the center of the room, her eyes covered with black silk, her mouth painted a bright, cherry red, her nipples rosy, her posture erect.
He walked toward her and took her hand in his. “Come,” he said. “It’s time.”
She followed him with perfect grace and balance, though she was blindfolded, and he could feel her trust, which was implicit and absolute.
He led her to the yoga mat directly in front of the mirrored wall and placed her hands on the dance bar. “Are you ready, love?” he asked, his mouth close to her ear.
“Yes, Sir.”
“Take a step back and bend forward, ass out. Remember what you’ve learned, and embrace the pain. I’m going to take you further than we’ve gone before. I want you to focus on letting go.”
“Yes, Sir.”
Aaron had already laid out his selection of canes. They’d been working primarily with a quarter-inch rattan cane, but today he was also planning to use a three-eighths inch cane, which had to be handled more carefully than the thinner cane because it hit the tissue deep under the skin. It required a firm stroke and careful aim, but left absolutely gorgeous bruises.
While most trainers preferred canes that were finished with varnish or polyurethane, Aaron liked his unfinished—no varnish, no handle. He found them more erotic, earthier, more intimate.
Morgan preferred to lie down during a caning, which was one reason she would remain standing today. The present exercise wasn’t as much about the erotic experience between lovers as it was about a trainee learning to handle a more difficult situation with submissive grace. In spite of that self-reminder, Aaron’s cock was hard with anticipation.
“We begin,” he said softly, and a slight tremor moved through Morgan’s frame.
He picked up the thinner cane, starting lightly to warm the skin. Slowly but surely, he increased the intensity, landing light but stinging blows over both cheeks until her ass was cherry red and hot to the touch. She was breathing hard as she processed the pain.
As a trainer, Aaron was a firm believer in subjecting himself to any and everything he demanded of a trainee, and as such, he knew firsthand how important pace and rhythm were for a proper caning. A common mistake he’d seen at the clubs was for a Top to haul off and start whacking their subject, without giving them a chance to process the stroke. In his experience, it took about four to seven seconds to enjoy the full range of sensation provided by a properly delivered cane stroke, and setting a good pace was as important as controlling the intensity of the blows.
He selected the second cane. “Remember to breathe,” he reminded his lover. “This will hurt, but it’s a good pain, a welcome pain that will take you to a higher plane.”
A proper cane stroke occurred mostly in the wrist, and when the rattan landed, he didn’t lift the cane immediately, instead letting her skin receive it and continue to absorb the stroke as she processed the sensation. As it landed, she made a sound—a combination of expelled air and a moan that came out as a sexy sigh—yet she remained perfectly still.
He watched with awe, so connected to her that he could almost feel the white-hot line of pain—a sinking, searing sensation that vibrated through the body, and then the radiating warmth that followed in its wake, and lastly that delicious feeling of surrender that traveled up the spine and entered the soul.
He struck again, leaving another beautiful welt just below the first. Morgan clenched her butt cheeks as she began to pant, the pain edging into dangerous territory, where panic might overtake grace.
Aaron placed a soothing hand on her lower back. “Relax your body, Morgan. Stop holding tension. Slow your breathing.” He waited as she released her clenched muscles and lowered her hunched shoulders.
“Better. Flow with the sensations. Take the gift of my pain, and give me back the gift of your suffering.”
She took several deep, shuddering breaths and nodded, indicating she was ready to continue.
He moved lower, marking her with each new stroke until he finally got to her sweet spot, which for Morgan was the crease where her ass met her thighs. She processed pain differently in that spot—her brain somehow bypassing the agony and moving directly to pure bliss.
“Yes,” she begged. “Yes, please…more…”
She was nearly there, and he let the cane fly, the whistling sound preceding the sharp crack of rattan against skin. She breathed out a long, languorous sigh. One more stroke, and it happened. She exhibited the epitome of trust between a Dom and his sub as she took that awesome step, letting herself free-fall into subspace, confident he would be there to catch her.
He continued to cane her, slowly easing the pace until the rattan only whispered against her flaming skin. Through it all, she remained absolutely still. He lowered the cane to the ground and just watched Morgan for several seconds as she soared somewhere far beyond his reach. Her stillness was more than a mere lack of movement. It was an inner control, a peace of the spirit that thrilled him to his bones.
After a while, he removed her blindfold and placed his hands lightly on her shoulders. “Morgan,” he whispered. “Come back to me now. Open your eyes.”
She lifted her head and opened her eyes, which focused slowly on his in the mirror. As she came to herself, her knees started to buckle, and Aaron caught her and lowered her gently to the padded mat so she lay on her stomach.
“Heaven,” she breathed as he stroked Arnica over the beautiful welts. “I’m in heaven.”
“That’s because you’re my angel,” Aaron replied with a happy laugh as joy pelted his senses like sweet, fresh rain.
Chapter 14
“Hey, what’s going on in
that beautiful head of yours? You seem like you’re a thousand miles away.”
It took a moment for Morgan to register that Aaron was speaking. They were relaxing on the veranda before dinner, Morgan resting on her side on a chaise longue, her freshly caned bottom still tender. Past the trees, she could see the setting sunlight fracture and sequin on the surface of the lake.
They had been talking over the past few days about where things would go as the two-week adventure at the Chateau came to an end. Aaron was thinking seriously of returning to London, but he didn’t want to leave without Morgan. And while she knew in no uncertain terms that she was in love with him and didn’t want to be apart, moving to another country was a pretty huge step, and then there was Tom.
She sat up carefully and looked at Aaron. “Oh, nothing much. Just everything we’ve been talking about the past few days. How much I’m in love with you. How incredibly intense the caning session was today. About you going back to London, and how much I want to be with you. What I’m going to say to Tom tonight at the party, and how I’ll ever be able to pay back the bonus money. Whether I’m totally insane to even consider moving to another country. Little stuff like that.”
Aaron laughed. “Little stuff, yeah. No wonder you’re so distracted.”
Morgan smiled in spite of herself. She loved the way the corners of his eyes crinkled when he laughed. “Yeah. I think I’m kind of freaking out a little.”
He sobered, though his eyes were still smiling. “I know, love. I didn’t mean to make light of it. Let’s talk about the issues, one at a time. I find when you break big things up into smaller bits, they’re easier to handle.”
“Okay.” It was funny, but she already felt better. Just voicing her worries to the person she now trusted most in the world made things seem more manageable.
“First of all—London,” Aaron said. “I didn’t say I’m going back tomorrow. I’ve got plenty of savings, plus income from my ownership share in the training facility back home. So even though my tenure here at the Chateau is coming to an end, I have some flexibility.” He turned toward her and took her hand in his as she tumbled headlong into his beautiful eyes.
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