“You’ve never been to the caves either?” Blake sounded surprised.
“Nope. My father decided to put me on permanent lockdown after my mother left,” Dahlia explained, looking out the window. “I guess he thought that if he kept me under guard, then I wouldn’t leave him either.”
“Is that when you started stabbing yourself?” Blake asked gently.
Dahlia shook her head. “No, I started after I caught my mother naked with the housekeeper and she called me a perverted little slut. The first time was an accident. I was so angry and confused that I jabbed a fork into my hand during dinner and just sat there and watched it bleed. The housekeeper finally noticed it and cleaned me up, but her touching me made me even angrier. It just started a series of events and, eventually, I found better things to use that allowed me to hide the results easier.”
“I’ve known cutters before, but stabbing is new to me,” Blake admitted, pulling the truck under some trees and parking.
“Ginger says the only difference is the type of pain. With a cutter, the sensation is sharper, more superficial, and the results are definitely more visible. The chance for self-harm is higher too. With stabbing,” she shrugged, “we try to feel something deep inside, like we are trying to tap into a well. The penetration and depth is the key, plus it is easy to hide. Most of us use needles and long pins.”
“How did you feel afterwards?”
“Like I was hiding a dirty little secret. I felt like… like my mother,” Dahlia admitted. “It wasn’t that she was having an affair with a woman that bothered me. It was that she acted like I had done something wrong because I caught her. And then she tried to convince me that I had not seen anything and when I told her I was going to tell Daddy, she called me…”
“What, honey?”
“She called me a parasite.”
“Which was the term Giada used to break down your wall, isn’t it?”
“Yeah. Giada brought that night back to life for me. My mother told me that if I said anything to anyone, she would leave because she hated being around me. That is when I really started to stab. She caught me doing it and suggested I use something longer and maybe go for a vital organ.”
“Oh, sweetheart… I’m so sorry.” Blake held her hand. “Did you finally tell your father?”
“No. She left about a week after that, and told him that my mental illness frightened her and made her afraid for her life. He had no idea what I was doing until then, and that’s when he blocked off all my interaction with the world and put me in therapy. The nannies he hired were informed of my ‘sickness’ and kept me confined to my room. I even had to start doing school online because he did not want the world to know about me and what I did. He then used finances to bribe me to live at home after I turned eighteen and was going to start college.”
“This isolation worsened things, didn’t it?”
“Yeah.” She became quiet. “Can we change the subject? I don’t think I have even shared this much with Ginger and it’s really bothering me.”
“Of course. I have something that will make you smile. Hold my hand so you don’t trip.”
Dahlia picked her way through the overgrown footpath, paying more attention to the ground than where Blake was leading her. She walked into him when he stopped in front of her.
“What the… oh, my,” she exclaimed, stepping forward to stare.
The waterhole was lined with large cypress trees and moss-covered boulders. Dense ferns filled nooks and crannies between the rocks and a tiny waterfall splashed into the clear pool from one end. A small log cabin was visible through the thick trees.
“This is my special getaway. I built the cabin myself as a retreat from life. No one has ever been here except me. Not even my brother.”
“It’s the most beautiful place I have ever seen. Thank you for sharing it with me.” Dahlia leaned against him.
“Let me show you around,” Blake beamed, dragging her into the cabin. It consisted of a small bedroom, a living area/kitchen, and a bathroom complete with a copper tub.
“Please tell me that there is running water,” Dahlia pointed to the toilet. “I’m a city girl.”
“Yes, indoor plumbing, hot water, and electricity. I had all that set up before I built. Even I have some comforts I won’t do without.”
“Is this a feather mattress?”
“Yes, ma’am. Pure goose down. What are you doing?” Blake asked as Dahlia began to remove her clothing.
“I need to see how pure this goose down is. Oh my, this is glorious,” she purred, plopping on her back. She patted the space next to her. “Join me.”
“Dahl…”
“I need a hug,” she grinned, holding her arms out. “You promised not to deny me.”
“You’re a stinker.” He shook his head, crawling on the bed next to her and placing his arm under her head. “What are you up to?”
“Making you be intimate,” Dahlia snickered.
“You also wanted to test my promise.”
“Yup, that too. Blake? I think I like hugs.”
“I do too. There is something I want to do. Are you up for it?”
“Does it have to do with sex?”
“Maybe. But not here. Up you go.”
“Put me down,” Dahlia laughed as he slung her over his shoulder, “you are acting like Fred Flintstone!”
“If I was a caveman, I would be dragging you out by the hair.”
“Oooh, that sounds like fun. Whatcha doing?” Dahlia asked as he set her down on the bank next to the swimming hole. Blake grinned, quickly stripping off his clothes and doing a running jump into a cannonball.
Dahlia squeaked as the water splashed over her. “It’s cold.”
“You’re standing in the shade. Jump in.”
“No.”
“Chicken?” Blake teased.
“Nope, just don’t wanna.”
“It will feel good on that bruised bottom,” Blake stated, treading water. “Please?”
“Well, since you put it that way… Cannonball!” Dahlia yelled. She clambered up his back and tried to dunk him, only to find herself being tossed up in the air and being dunked. Their laughter was loud, rambunctious and free, and Dahlia accepted that she could, indeed, be happy with this man who accepted her as she was, flaws and all. His caring was genuine and unselfish, thinking of what she needed to help her become strong and confident. She suspected that he had no agenda other than the desire to love her, and for her to love him in return, but intimate love was a foreign emotion to the man and she knew he had a difficulty expressing his feelings in words. She was patient, though.
“Blake? We need to talk,” Dahlia said abruptly.
He swam to her side and pulled her naked body against his. “What is on your mind, cupcake?”
“Why do you call me that?” She screwed her face.
“Isn’t it obvious? Besides the fact you are so delicious, sweet, and moist, your hair reminds me of pink frosting on a vanilla cupcake. What did you want to talk about?”
“I don’t know how to do this and I am so afraid I am going to disappoint you.”
“Do what, hon?”
“Care about people, like they matter. I don’t even know how to care about myself, let alone be comfortable with an intimate type of relationship.”
“This type of relationship is about taking the time to be together, to help each other through tough times and doing little things to make the other person smile. My parents loved each other very much, and I remember that they always went out of their way to praise one another and us kids. Which is why I make an effort to praise and reward my slaves.”
“You were lucky to have that.”
“I was. I also saw how they shared everything… dreams… hopes… secrets. They meant everything to each other and gave Timmy and me the recipe for a happy, fulfilled life. It is out of respect for them that my policy against face slapping is in place. Every time Dad touched Mom’s face, it was only with softness. I
want to honor that.”
“Oh. That makes sense. So, you’ve never been married and Tim…”
“Tim is in a special relationship. His partner is loyal, responsible, and tender, and is trying his best to make my kid brother very happy. They have their issues but they care enough for each other to work through them. That is all I care about. As for me, I have allowed fear to rule my life for too long. You made me realize that I could not experience the joy of love and commitment without risking the pain.”
Dahlia noticed that he went out of his way to state the word ‘love,’ as though the word itself had a secret power. “The pain scares me. The emotional and mental pain, that is,” she confessed.
“Of course it does, because you cannot predict or control your emotions. Since I won’t allow you to zone out when things get tough, it is even more frightening. You will adjust to it, I promise, and these oddball emotions will become second nature to you.”
“Promise?”
“I promise. Let’s stop worrying and just enjoy each other, okay?”
“Blake? When was the last time you did a cannonball?” Dahlia asked after a moment of silence.
“Before I lost my folks. After that, I had to grow up very quickly. How about you?”
“This was my first time. I really can’t remember ever being allowed to play as a kid. My mother hated noise of any kind and Dad…”
“He’s a no-nonsense, on the ball, get-your-shit-together type of guy. I know him pretty well from the things Tim shares with me. He has his own issues and secrets, too, baby. It’s just my opinion, but I think that if you told him the truth about your mom and the situation, it very well might open the door to free both of you from her control.”
“She’s out of our lives. She has no control,” Dahlia responded, shaking her head. “It would kill him.”
“He’s made of stronger stuff than you think. Trust me,” Blake said knowingly. “If it were me, I would want to know. He deserves a chance for a new beginning, too.”
Dahlia sighed with a nod and leaned against him again. “Yeah, maybe you’re right.”
“Maybe? I’m always right,” he teased, flipping her around so that her back was pressed to his chest as they floated in the water, warmed by the hot Texas sun. He kissed the base of her neck and began to stroke her breasts with tender, gentle caresses. “I’m going to make love to you. Slowly and gently, with no pain and no humiliation. Close your eyes and relax, baby.”
Dahlia was surprised by the instructions, but then realized that he had predicted her response. Gentle affection was still largely new to her and she struggled against the bombardment of emotions that ran through her mind. She had learned early in life that if she wanted anything pleasurable, she just took it. It had always been about fulfilling her needs and she cared little for anyone else’s.
Blake explored her body with his hands and mouth, and Dahlia found that she was discontent with not returning the gestures. She wanted to give to him as he gave to her!
“Blake, stop.”
“What’s wrong, cupcake?” he murmured, rubbing his nose behind her left ear.
“I want to be the one to make love to you. To give you pleasure. Please let me.”
Blake studied her face before nodding. “I’m yours. Be gentle.”
Dahlia eagerly agreed and asked to return to the cabin. They dried off and then she took his hand and led him to the bed. Blake made a wry face when she produced some rope she had found in the closet.
“What do you think you are going to do with that?”
“I want to tie you up so I can take advantage of you.”
“That’s not going to happen. Sorry.”
“Please? I want to be in control and focus on you. If you aren’t restrained then you can turn the table anytime you want.”
“I don’t like being restrained, hon. No.”
“Blake, I am asking you to trust me.”
He grimaced and reluctantly agreed. Dahlia pushed him back on the bed and straddled his stomach, kissing his mouth. “Thank you,” she whispered, grazing her teeth along his throat. Her hands shook as she tied his right wrist to the bed frame, and then repeated with the left side. His arms were stretched over his head and she ran the flats of her palms up the side of his torso, over his pectoral muscles and up the insides of both arms.
“Your skin is so warm and soft,” she observed, stroking him with her fingertips. “I never realized how good it would feel to touch a man’s skin like this.”
“That is why I love to stroke my pets,” Blake said softly. “I enjoy the feeling of flesh under my hands.”
“And you smell so good,” Dahlia added, sniffing his skin as she nuzzled against him. “You smell clean and warm, like sunshine.”
She ignored his rising member as she further explored his upper body. She tasted his abdomen before diving into his sensitive nipples, and then rubbed her cheek along the soft fur on top of his chest. The very act of touching him was filling a need inside of her that she had not acknowledged before.
Blake’s blue eyes followed her motions as she ran her hands across his flesh, touching, tasting, and smelling his essence. She smiled shyly up at him before taking his erect organ into her mouth. His skin was hot and tasted sweet after the dip in the freshwater pond. Dahlia ran her tongue around the ridge of the head and down the underside of his shaft, closing her eyes as she enjoyed the texture of his skin against her lips, tongue, and inside her cheeks. She wrapped her mouth around the long rod and slowly pulled her head back as she tightened her lips around it. Blake groaned, twitching slightly beneath her as her suction played upon the bulb. Dahlia swirled her tongue around the length of him, pulling him again into her mouth and pressing close so that she felt him touching the back of her throat.
He was large and her breathing was stifled, but she coached herself to breathe through her nose and took him deeper into her throat. Dahlia felt a surge of pride as she worked to swallow him completely and then began to milk his organ with her throat and cheek muscles. In and out, she mouth-fucked him, lunging down on him like a fleshy lollipop. She tasted the salty sweetness of his pre-cum as she withdrew her mouth, and licked her lips with delight.
Dahlia pulled away and sat up, her hands cradling his tightening balls. She straddled him and guided his cock to her pussy, and lowered herself down upon it. Blake bucked his hips, unable to control her speed and penetration through his restraints. His face reflected the glorious torture and Dahlia smiled with glee. He was enjoying this!
After years of running jumps with horses she had developed strong thighs, and Dahlia posted Blake’s cock as though she were riding a saddle. She posted herself up and down in a forward and back rocking motion, taking him inside of her and allowing his cock to touch her at different angles as she rode him. Her muscles clamped down around him and pulled as she rose, then relaxed and swallowed him again as she descended. Blake tensed beneath her as she pumped him, and Dahlia reached to touch her clit with her right hand. She began to circle her nubbin lazily with her middle finger and she rhythmically drove him in and out of her body. Her breath shortened, as did his, and she increased the speed of her movement, tightening and stroking him from the inside.
Blake stiffened and arched his pelvis into her, a loud roar escaping his lips as he released his hot juices into her hungry pussy. Dahlia increased the pressure of her finger upon her clit and, in a split second, joined him in her own eruption of pleasure. She kept him embedded within her, slowing her rocking motion as they both retreated to a place of contentment.
“That was amazing, darling,” Blake whispered as Dahlia slid next to him and nestled her body against his chest. “Untie me so I can hold you.”
“I like you tied up,” Dahlia giggled, complying. “It made me feel like I had control. I felt like I was the one who made you feel good and that you had nothing to do with it. I liked that.”
“Now you understand why I enjoy restraining my pets.” He kissed her hair as he pulled
her close. “You did an incredible job, baby. I would never have let anyone else do that to me, just so you know.”
“Really? Will you let me do it again?”
“Yes, but only on special occasions. Put your head down,” he said gently, stroking her face. “Let’s enjoy the quiet for a while.”
Chapter Nine
Blake tapped his pen against the desk, thinking about the afternoon he had spent with Dahlia a week before, and the personal things she had shared with him. He had taken her to school to assist her in changing her major, escorted her to class, and returned to his home office only to find that he missed her presence.
“Giada? Come in here, please,” he requested over the intercom. Giada entered several minutes later and bowed at his feet. “Sit down. I need some advice.”
Giada listened carefully, a frown settling over her face as he shared his concerns over Dahlia’s past, and the scars left by her mother. He waited patiently for her response.
“That poor child. It sounds like she needs some closure. The problem is that you can’t force her to confront her mother or to tell her father the truth. If he would even believe her.”
“Why wouldn’t he?”
“Blake,” Giada said patiently, “for him to accept the truth would mean that he would also have to accept the fact he never sought answers to what had happened. If he had, then that girl might have been in a better place emotionally and mentally. She felt as rejected by him as she did by her mother, and they both betrayed her by not trying to discover what she was missing in her life.”
“Intimacy and trust,” Blake stated flatly.
“Yes. Her mother obviously had her own issues of shame and denial. And her dad… well, he pushed his parenting responsibility off to therapists and nannies. When was the last time he spent any time alone with his daughter? Asked her about her life? Tried to learn something about the person she is?”
“I think you are onto something. All this time, he’s been running from the truth of his own failures and issues,” Blake commented, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. “Tim’s been concerned about him. He has been drinking in excess, and making a lot of serious mistakes that could cost him his business, as well as his relationships.”
Meeting Her Master Page 11