Caught by the Master

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by Caught by the Master (lit)


  Whitney missed talking to him on Thursday evening. She had choir rehearsal, and Taurus had to attend a meeting he set up weeks before.

  On Friday morning when she arrived at work, Whitney found a large white dress box tied with a wide burgundy ribbon sitting on her desk. She opened it and marveled at the contents.

  “Wow, that’s some outfit,” Kim said as she stopped next to Whitney’s desk.

  Whitney nodded as she took in the deep red velvet corset, embroidered in black with a flower and vine pattern, a very short black leather skirt, and a pair of very tall black stiletto-heeled boots. She didn’t have to open the card in the bottom of the box to know it was from Sir. No one else would send such a gift.

  “It’s a present from a friend,” she said, her cheeks burning.

  “Uh-huh. Ask him if he has any friends who need a date.” Kim smirked. Whitney blushed, then put everything back in the box and closed the lid.

  “I’ll do that.” Whitney said the only thing she could to get Kim to move on. She didn’t want to talk about Sir or the clothes or what she’d be doing that evening. She needed to focus on her job, her career, and not her sex life. As soon as she could, she took the box to her car so there would be no further questions from her coworkers.

  After an early dinner with her mother, Whitney locked herself in her room and opened the box again. After stripping, she tried on the new clothes and was not surprised to find they fit perfectly. The boots rose over her knees, reminding her of a pair of sexy pirate boots she drooled over the Halloween before but had not been able to afford. The skirt ended just a few inches below her bare pussy, and the corset barely covered her peaked nipples. Thankfully, the corset closed up the front with a series of hooks and eyes. She did not want to ask her mother for help getting dressed. She didn’t want her mother to know about this date or the man she was seeing. That kind of shocking information would have her mother calling convents to find a place to send her for remedial religious training.

  Picking up the envelope at the bottom, she opened it and pulled out a card embossed with the Club Esoteria logo.

  Dear mouse,

  I hope you will wear this gift with your plug tonight when you join me at the club. Park in the back lot, and I’ll meet you in the private foyer at eight o’clock.

  Until then, Sir

  PS – Please arrange to spend the weekend.

  Damn, she’d forgotten the plug. It had been part of a recurring mantra for the past week—tested, waxed, article, plug, no panties. She’d been so focused on everything else she shoved wearing the plug out of her thoughts. She huffed a chuckle as she thought about putting the butt plug in.

  Going to her dresser, she pulled out the small purple plug and the bottle of lube from her hidden toy bag. After covering the top half with the cherry flavored lube, she did some deep breathing exercises to try and relax before she pushed the plug into herself. The muscles of her ass protested, clenching again and again around the plug, but finally she set the plug. She moved carefully as she became used to the feeling of having her ass stuffed.

  Once it was in place, she cleaned up and finished putting on her makeup. Glancing at the clock, she saw it was time to leave. Her heart raced a little faster and her pussy clenched as the plug shifted with every step she took.

  Chapter 6

  Whitney found herself sneaking down the stairs with a small duffel bag over one shoulder and her calf-length trench coat buttoned up tight at a quarter to eight. It was warm enough outside, but she did not want her mother to see what she was wearing. She smiled as she remembered doing this exact same thing when she was sixteen. She got good at sneaking out of the house in the wrong clothes to go to school or spend the night at a friend’s house. Trouble always came when she returned home afterwards. She remembered that and packed a casual outfit in the bag along with some toiletries and a silk sleep shirt, though she doubted she’d be wearing it.

  “Bye, Mom. I’ll see you Sunday afternoon,” she called as she opened the front door. She sounded strange, probably because of the plug, which seemed to be affecting everything from her posture and the way she walked to the cream that continued to gather in her cunt and dampen her thighs.

  She slipped out before her mother could reply, pulling the door closed and quick-marching to her car. She was out of the driveway and driving away by the time her mother emerged from the front door.

  Her mother would try her cell, only to find it sitting on the table in the hall outside her room. This weekend was for her and her alone. She didn’t want anyone disturbing her, not her mother, not her boss, not anyone. Not that Sir would allow her to answer her phone if it rang, but she wasn’t taking any chances. Better to leave it behind than to be punished by Sir if it rang at an inopportune time.

  She pulled into the parking lot behind Esoteria with ten minutes to spare. She sat for a few minutes, willing suddenly frightened nerves to settle. At three minutes to the hour, she climbed from the car and took off her trench coat. Tossing it into the back seat, she debated taking the duffel bag with her, finally deciding to leave it. If she needed it later she’d come out for it, but she doubted Sir would worry about whether she had a change of clothes or not.

  After locking her car, she carried her key ring with her. Her clothes had no pockets, and she didn’t want to leave the keys in the car.

  She wobbled as she crossed the parking lot, still not used to wearing the stiletto-heeled boots, though she’d practiced walking in them for a few minutes in her bedroom that afternoon. Thankfully, she wouldn’t be wearing them long. She would be barefoot as soon as she entered the club.

  Opening the door marked “Private,” she slipped inside just as the elevator bonged softly and the doors slid open. Her breath caught when Sir stepped out. He wore a black silk shirt with full sleeves that accentuated his broad shoulders and with his black leather pants.

  He looked powerful.

  He looked beautiful.

  He looked like he wanted to eat her alive.

  “Good evening, Whitney. You look quite lovely this evening,” he said as he stepped from the elevator and crossed to stand in front of her.

  Her eyes dropped a second before her face did and she felt her cheeks turning pink at his compliment. When she saw his erection push at his zipper, her entire body blushed. “Thank you for the clothes,” she whispered.

  “Ah, ah, no looking at the floor. Look at me.” His gentle palm cupped and lifted her chin as his fingers caressed her cheek. “You are beautiful, and you will look me in the eye. Some Masters won’t allow it, but you will keep eye contact. With me and me alone. With anyone else you will drop your gaze. Also, no one is to touch you without my expressed permission. Do you understand?”

  She watched the green fire swirl in his eyes before nodding.

  “Words, mouse. Use your words.”

  “Yes, Sir. I understand.”

  “Good girl. Now, how about my thank you kiss?”

  He pulled her so close she felt his heat through their clothes. Wrapping his arms around her back, he held her securely as his head lowered. Her lips parted automatically, anxious for the first taste of him. Would it be as good tonight as she remembered?

  “Pretty mouse, I’ll never let you escape,” Sir murmured a heartbeat before his lips covered hers.

  His kiss was like the man himself. Overwhelming in its power and so, so sexy. Whitney’s nipples beaded painfully tight, and hot juice trickled down her inner thighs. His tongue swept through her mouth, tasting, teasing, tormenting. She lost herself in the kiss, something she couldn’t remember ever doing before.

  One hand stroked down her back and over her ass to the hem of her skirt. Dipping underneath, it circled her left cheek before sliding down the crack between . He pushed on the butt plug, sending a shaft of dark need through her. She felt his smile against her lips as she moaned into his mouth.

  A moment later, the hand trailed around her leg and brushed against the bare skin of her pussy. “Good mo
use. You follow directions well,” he murmured before deepening the kiss again.

  When his lips finally released hers, she found herself wrapped around him like a vine. Her arms clutched at the muscles of his back. She straddled his thigh so that it rubbed against her clit through the leather of her skirt, just adding to her hunger. She opened her hands to try and pull him even closer and her keys fell to the floor with a small sound.

  She shifted her hips against him. She needed just a little more to ease the sexual tension that had been building all week. Before she could find that one last touch, Taurus stepped back. Hard hands wrapped around her hips to hold her still.

  “We don’t have time for that. But remember where we left off. We’ll get back to it. Later.”

  Giving her a moment to catch her breath, he bent to pick up her forgotten key ring. Straightening, he slipped it in his pocket. Taking her right hand in his left, he led her out the door she’d just come in.

  “Where are we going?” she managed to ask as he led her to the big SUV she’d parked her little Bug next to. Her mind remained focused on their kiss, not a car ride. She wanted to go back inside and see if full out sex with this man would be as wonderful as the kiss had been.

  “Cute car. It suits you,” he observed as he opened the passenger’s door to the tall SUV and then lifted her inside.

  She settled on a large beach towel which covered the seat. As she did, he pulled the back of her skirt out of the way so her bare butt rested against the towel. With a pleased smile, he closed the door, then rounded the vehicle to climb into the driver’s seat.

  “Seatbelt,” he said as he clicked his own in place and started the car.

  Still boggled by their kiss, Whitney fumbled with her safety belt. Finally, Sir took it away from her and slipped it in place with a metallic click.

  “Spread your legs, sweetheart,” he said as he started the car. “Wider.” He took hold of he left thigh and pulled it until her knee touched the floor-mounted gear shift. Her right knee rested against the door.

  She shivered when he adjusted the fan and a gentle breeze began to blow over her open, wet slit.

  “Where are we going, Sir?” she asked again, trying for a more submissive tone.

  “Better. I’ve been invited to a party in Jacksonville and thought you’d enjoy it. We’ll come back here and play afterwards.”

  Shifting in her seat and fighting down a moan as the plug moved, Whitney asked herself what kind of an idiot she was to go to a party forty miles from home with a man she hardly knew. She then wondered what it was that he hadn’t told her.

  He looked too pleased with himself not to have held something back. When his hand settled on her inner thigh and began to trace random patterns on the bare skin just above the top of her boot, her thoughts fragmented and her focus narrowed to the touch of his skin on hers.

  Once they were out of town on Highway 17, his fingers smoothed their way higher up her inner thigh.

  “Play with yourself.” He broke the silence with a soft voice threaded with the tone of power that made her want do whatever he asked.

  “Here?” Suddenly nervous, she tried to close hers legs, but his hold on her thigh prevented it.

  “Yes, here. It’s dark, we’ve got time to kill, and you need to relax a bit. You went all week without an orgasm. You must be ready to explode.” His hand traveled farther up her thigh to where it joined her body. “You did go all week without an orgasm, didn’t you? No playing without yourself in the shower or after our talks, right?

  “Right. No orgasms,” she murmured as his little finger traced its way up and down her slit.

  That small touch reignited the firestorm of her need. She moaned and lifted her hips into his touch. The sound turned to a whimper when he pulled his finger away from her, lifting it to his mouth to lick at her juices.

  “Mmmm, good. Unhook the top four hooks of your corset. Show me your tits.”

  Unable to deny him and nearly mindless with need, Whitney reached for the top of her corset. Opening the four hooks caused the top of the corset to fall, which exposed her breasts to his green-eyed gaze.

  “Keep your thighs open while you play with those pretty nipples.” His order was soft and seemed to complement the classical music playing on the radio.

  Lifting her hands to her chest, Whitney hesitated with her fingers hovering just above her skin. Closing her eyes, she took her nipples between thumb and forefinger and plucked at them. Electricity shot from nipples to cunt and back again, building her want with every touch. She began to roll the pebble-hard tips between her fingers, slowly increasing the pressure.

  Her hips shifted in response as she began to pant. It felt so good. Knowing that Sir watched her made her even hotter. Or was he? Rolling her head to the left, she opened her eyes. Yep, his attention was on her more than the road.

  Needing more, she moved her right hand down her body and between her thighs. She slid one finger from the top of her slit, down over her clit, and into her passage as far as she could reach. Her eyes closed again as she added a second finger and began to fuck herself. She brushed her thumb over the tight bundle of nerves, which sent her dangerously close to the edge of sanity with just a few strokes.

  “Sir, may I?” she panted, opening her eyes.

  The fact that they were no longer moving barely registered as Sir leaned across the front seat. “Come, mouse,” he whispered softly as one hand wrapped around the back of her neck to pull her into his kiss.

  She screamed into his open mouth as her fingers pushed deep into her cunt once more and orgasm washed over her. Her entire body clenched and then convulsed in rhythmic waves, the seatbelt and his hold keeping her from smashing into the dashboard. His free hand took hold of the wrist between her thighs and kept her fingers moving in and out of her until she rode the crest over the edge a second time.

  When she finally collapsed back against her seat, he kissed her once more before releasing her. “That was beautiful, baby girl.” He re-hooked her corset before reaching over and around her to recline her seat partway. “Rest now. We’ll be there in a little bit.”

  After a kiss, this one sweet and loving, he started the engine and began to drive again.

  * * * *

  “You brought me to a wedding?” Whitney asked twenty minutes later when he pulled in and parked near a red pickup covered with blown up condoms.

  A sign hanging across the front of the barn announced “Congratulations, Marco and Tawnee.” The area in front of the barn was lit with torches as well as several well-placed security lights, providing plenty of light for the handful of people gathered. The men were all dressed similar to Taurus while the women wore everything from long cocktail dresses to one woman dressed only in a red teddy. Whitney’s corset and mini-skirt fit somewhere in the middle.

  “No, I brought you to a post-collaring ceremony reception. Marco and Tawnee have been together forever. No one expected them to make it official. Think of it as a wedding reception without all the traditions.” Taurus picked up her hand and kissed her knuckles before climbing out.

  He helped her from her seat, then chuckled when she stopped to straighten her clothes, making sure that all her bits were properly covered.

  “I wished you’d told me. We could have met afterward.” Whitney fluffed her hair and straightened her skirt for the third time.

  “Mouse, I want you with me. I want you to meet my friends. I want to get to know you outside Esoteria. Our phone calls this week were wonderful, but I want to take you out on a date. This seemed like the best way to accomplish all three of those goals. Stop fussing, you look beautiful.” He leaned forward and kissed her. Pulling back before things got too involved, he gave her the look that told her he was about to turn Dom on her. “Relax and enjoy yourself. Though evidence may contradict me, I was hoping for a relatively vanilla date tonight.”

  She pondered the phrase “vanilla date” while he led her toward the crowd gathered around a man wearing black sla
cks and a white silk shirt with his arm around a woman wearing a lacy white chemise.

  By focusing on her breathing and trying not to trip while walking with stiletto heels across a grassy field, Whitney was able to push away her fear, until she realized something.

  “Sir? What do I call you here?” she asked softly, tugging on his hand.

  “Tonight you may call me Taurus if you’d like. Or Sir, if you feel more comfortable. These people are club members. Either designation is fine.”

  “Thank you, Taurus,” Whitney said softly. The name felt strange in her mouth. Would she ever be used to calling him by his name and not Sir? Would they have a future where it would matter?

  “You’re welcome, sweet Whitney. Be warned that when we return to Esoteria, Sir will be taking over and administering a few punishment strokes for your misbehavior last week, but we’ll talk about that later. For now I want to show my pretty mouse off.” Taurus released her hand and pulled her closer to his side so he could wrap an arm around her back.

  Chapter 7

  “That’s a pretty little plaything you brought with you tonight,” Marco commented as the two men looked over the table holding a wide variety of snack foods and drinks.

  “I think so,” Taurus said, his gaze lifting from the platter of chicken tenders to find Whitney talking to his cousin, Sloan, and one of her masters, Merlin.

  “She’s not wearing a collar,” Dane, who was the third in Sloan and Merlin’s triad, observed as he joined them and picked up a plate.

  “Not yet.”

  “So what’s her story? She just looking to play or a commitment?” Wiley, an older, harsher Dom asked.

  Taurus grew impatient as his friends asked questions he didn’t have answers to. All he wanted was to spend time with his mouse, and here he was, fielding a Dom inquisition of his intentions.

 

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