Meeting Her Master

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Meeting Her Master Page 13

by Hayse, Breanna


  “Let’s play a game,” Blake’s eyes glittered. “We can pretend we are a family and you are my little girl. No one will say anything.”

  “I’m too old to be your little girl,” Dahlia said in a tiny voice.

  “No, you aren’t, plus, with your hair pulled into a ponytail, you look like a kid. Play along. It is a good distraction. In fact,” he stroked her face, “it might be kind of fun. One of my pets is an AB…”

  “What’s an AB?”

  “Adult baby. He loves to color and play with Legos, and he even has an auntie who cares for him as though he were a toddler. While you get dressed, I’ll go see if he has anything we can bring with us. I will be right back.”

  Blake returned with his arms loaded with coloring books, crayons, Magic Markers, and colored pencils. Dahlia gaped at him.

  “Take your pick,” he said, strewing it on her bed. “Breakfast is ready, too. I’ll take your suitcase to the door and don’t forget to grab a jacket.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” Dahlia grinned playfully, grabbing several coloring books and the colored pencils. She followed him out like a puppy at his heels, trying to trip him as he walked.

  “What are you doing?” he finally asked, stopping to look at her.

  “What you told me to. Distracting myself.”

  “Hmmm, I see. We have some time before we have to go. Eat your breakfast and we can go to the dungeon for a few minutes.”

  “Really? Cool! I’ll take that with me,” Dahlia said, snatching her plate and stuffing the bagel into her mouth while heading back toward the doorway to leave. Blake shook his head, sipping the coffee that had been handed to him, and followed her out.

  He threw a trench coat over his head and ran out with Dahlia under his arms to the adobe house, joining her laughter as the rain pelted them. He shook his hair like a wet dog after entering the room and flipped on the light switch. Dahlia shifted back and forth eagerly, watching as he turned on the giant electric fireplace and opened the wall-length cabinet that contained the implement rack.

  “This is the first time you have taken me in here since the day I moved in,” Dahlia mentioned.

  “Is it now? Hmm, this will do nicely,” Blake commented, lifting a bamboo rug beater from the rack. “We only have about fifteen minutes, so I’m going to give it to you hard.”

  “Really? The way I like it?” Dahlia sounded surprised.

  “Yes, darling. The way you like it,” Blake said, swinging the device in his hand. He pointed to a broad desk. “Drop your jeans and lean across. Keep your panties on for now. What do they say?” He peered closer. The words ‘R U Chicken?’ splashed across the hot pink fabric. Blake grunted. He suspected this was Giada’s doing.

  He placed his left hand down in the center of Dahlia’s back and slowly rubbed the cold bamboo over her scantily clad bottom. He lifted the implement and tapped her cheeks twice, urging her to present them as more accessible targets. Holding the handle loosely in his hand, Blake pulled his arm back and allowed momentum to take control. The rug beater swung forward and impacted across the span of Dahlia’s bottom with a loud thud. She lifted her torso off the table as the strength of the impact penetrated her thoughts.

  “Fuck! Get that thing away from me!” she yelled out.

  Blake pressed her back down on the desk and held her in place. “No. You like it hard and will take whatever I want to give you.”

  “Not with that… Ow!” Dahlia’s breath caught in her throat.

  “Just wait until I take those challenging little panties down, cupcake,” Blake warned, swinging a third time and allowing the instrument to plummet across her outstretched posterior. He ignored the gasping and the tears, watching her body language as she melted into the desktop. A fourth, fifth, and sixth stroke lashed into her and Dahlia raised her bottom to accept more. Undeterred by her sobs, Blake skimmed her panties to her knees.

  “Look at those lovely marks striping your ass.” He ran his warm hand over the outlines of the impact. “Some are already turning a sweet shade of purple. How dark would you like your marks, Dahlia?”

  “As dark as you can get them. Make it so that I feel you for the rest of the day,” Dahlia murmured, her demeanor evidence that she was starting to drift.

  “I will not break skin, baby. You know that. As for you being able to feel them,” Blake ran the rug beater across her skin, “I have means of promoting the pain. I am going to give you six of the best, fast and hard. Do not move. I don’t want to catch your thighs.”

  A scream echoed through the room as Blake delivered the menacing strokes with grim determination. She shuddered visibly on the fifth strike and fell into a spasmodic climax upon the final one. Blake shook his head, fascinated with Dahlia’s body’s ability to react so pleasurably to such pain. Without giving her time to recover from her orgasm, he plunged a vented plug deep in the recesses of her ass.

  “Holy shit!” Dahlia yelped as she was taken from the rear without warning.

  “Hush,” Blake ordered, rubbing her happily bruised bottom with cool lotion that smelled strongly of cinnamon. “We have to go. Get dressed.”

  “I need a hug and… fuck! What is this stuff?” Dahlia said, starting to dance around as she fanned her bottom.

  “Tiger Balm. Zip up those jeans, my girl. You will feel this for a while,” Blake grinned, hugging her tightly.

  “I don’t know whether to love you or hate you. This stuff is awful.”

  “You are welcome.”

  Chapter Ten

  Dahlia fidgeted in her seat on the plane, squirming uncomfortably yet happily.

  Giada tapped her knee. “You need to settle down, child. You act as though you have fire ants crawling in your jeans.”

  “I might as well,” Dahlia whispered back. “He marked me and then put Tiger Balm and a plug in!”

  “Well, well,” the woman clicked with her tongue, “you must be one very happy little girl. How is your anxiety?’

  “I can’t think much about crashing when I can’t sit without pain,” Dahlia groaned. “The Xanax seems to be helping, but my tummy is still spinning a bit.”

  “Xanax is compliments of Humberto. He hates to fly and would never, ever venture out in this weather. Blake will be back in a minute with some soda for you. Did you show him your bear?”

  “Yeah. He wanted me to pretend to be your kid for the trip. What’s with that?”

  “It’s another form of the lifestyle called age-play. He’s never really indulged before, but I enjoy it. Isn’t that so, Blake?” Giada asked as he returned to his seat, ginger ale in hand.

  “Here, baby, this will settle your tummy,” he said, handing the soda to Dahlia. “What are you ladies talking about?”

  “How wonderful you are,” Dahlia said, sipping the cold drink. “Thank you.”

  “We were also discussing age-play a bit.”

  “You would do anything to get someone to suck your breasts, Gi. Although, with those nipple rings in, it makes it a bit difficult,” Blake said loudly.

  “Shhh! Your voice carries!” Dahlia cautioned, seeing the people in the seats in front of them turn their heads.

  “So? What do you think they would say when they know you got a spanking before you got on the plane? Or that you are wearing a butt plug as you are sitting here?” he asked, enjoying Dahlia’s blush, Giada’s laughter, and the uncomfortable stirring of the people overhearing the conversation.

  “What if someone who knows you hears this?” Dahlia whispered into his ear.

  “Why do you think I booked a flight from Dallas instead of San Antonio? Daddy ain’t no dummy, little girl,” Blake teased.

  “Neither is your mommy. And yes, I do like having my nipples sucked,” Giada snickered. “Maybe if you’re a good girl, I will let you do that later. Would you like that?”

  Dahlia shrugged, dizzy with excitement, confusion, and the medication. “I don’t know. I never did that before. It’s been done to me…”

  “I think it’s time you l
earn how to do some more giving,” Giada announced.

  Dahlia bit her lip and leaned against Blake’s shoulder, her backside still burning and her bottom-hole aching from the plug. She smiled softly, curling up on the seat. Between these two people, she felt safe and genuinely wanted.

  She felt a hand on her shoulder, shaking her gently. “Huh? What’s wrong?” Dahlia asked groggily.

  “Nothing, cupcake. We’re here. Did you sleep well?” Blake asked, pulling the carryon pieces from the overhead bin.

  “By the sounds of her snoring, I would say the answer is ‘yes,’” Giada commented, taking her bag.

  “I don’t snore.”

  “Yes, you do,” both of her seatmates, and the two people in front of them, said at once.

  Dahlia blushed and hung her head.

  Giada flicked her finger under the girl’s chin. “Head up, child. If someone teases you, the best way to deal with it is by playing back. This goes for anything emotionally uncomfortable. Smile, accept it, and play along. The teasing loses its power that way. That’s why Blake was so loud on the plane.”

  “I can’t believe he said that stuff, and you either. I get it, but…”

  “See this ass?” Giada pointed to her ample bottom. “For the longest time, all I heard were fat jokes and comments about this ginormous rump. Even though I knew that there were a lot of men, and women, who like asses like mine, society still fucked with my brain. Until one day, when this one man made a comment about me going to the gym.”

  “I remember that,” Blake added. “We were at the feed store and he said that you would be gorgeous if you would only shed a few pounds and hit the gym a couple of days a week.”

  “How rude!” Dahlia exclaimed. “Did you punch him?” she asked Blake.

  “I didn’t get a chance. Giada looked at him straight in the eye and pointed to me. She said, ‘See that big, handsome cowboy over there? He loves to fuck this ass with a dick that is at least twice the size of yours, and he likes to fuck it hard.’ Then she told him to talk to her when he could grow a decent set of balls.”

  “You didn’t!”

  “Oh, yeah, I did. Of course, Blake would remember me calling him handsome and bragging about his prowess.”

  “Can’t deny the truth, Giada.” Blake tipped his hat at her and led the way to the concourse where their driver stood holding a sign. They walked outside and were smacked in the face by warm, dry air and blazing late afternoon sunlight.

  “I’m melting!” Dahlia called out, squinting.

  “It’s not that hot, just bright. Gotta be happy with no humidity,” Blake said, placing their bags in the oversized SUV. “There is some great hiking, riding, and fishing at the ranch we are going to. Doesn’t that sound like fun, cupcake?”

  “I’m not a country girl,” Dahlia grumbled. “Except when it comes to swimming holes and secluded cabins. I really don’t like getting dirty.”

  “There are some natural hot springs around here that…”

  “While you bid on the horses, I will be seeing to Dahlia’s comfort,” Giada interrupted, pulling her long, dark hair to a messy bun on top of her head. “I will need a pocket knife, though.”

  “Why?” Dahlia asked.

  “In case I see a need to cut a switch to use on a bad girl’s bottom,” Giada answered. “I hope there won’t be a need, will there?”

  “No, ma’am.”

  “Good. Mommy doesn’t want to have to spank her girl for being bad. Only for being good. Would you like that?”

  Dahlia squirmed, absently touching her hand to her tender backend. “Maybe, but not now. I really wanna take this damn plug out.”

  “I will take care of all that tonight before you go to bed. Now sit back and enjoy the view; we have a bit over an hour’s drive,” Blake ordered, wrapping his arm around the shoulders of both women as they sat on either side of him.

  Dahlia stared open-mouthed at the scenic view of distant, giant purple mountains that remained snow-tipped through even the hottest summer, miles of open prairie with long grasses that danced in the light winds, and thick foliage that lined the riverbeds flowing through Bitterroot Valley. She glanced at Blake and caught his eye. He winked.

  They arrived at the ranch and were greeted with a full brigade of barking work dogs, squawking chickens, and several geese who seemed to be more interested in chasing the SUV’s driver than their guests. Blake shook the hand of the owner and introduced him to his companions.

  “Mr. Lee Foss, please meet my girls. This is Giada and Dahlia.”

  “Ma’am, it is a delight. And what a charming child!”

  “She’s our treasure,” Giada played along before Dahlia could protest. “Thank you for allowing us to visit.”

  “I had no idea you had a family, Blake. Let me show you the bunkhouse I had made up for your visit. It is very private and the view is breathtaking.”

  “Everything here is breathtaking,” Dahlia whispered. “Could I please get some art supplies? I would love to paint some of this. Maybe I can climb up in one of those big, old trees and go from a different perspective?”

  “My little artist. Of course, honey. Mommy can take you into town and get you whatever you need. Mr. Foss? Could we inconvenience your driver for one short trip?”

  Lee glanced at the old man perched upon a fence, trying to avoid the hissing geese. “I think poor old Elmer would welcome any opportunity to escape the welcoming committee. Those birds hate him,” Lee chuckled. “While the ladies are gone, I can show you my stock.”

  “Excellent. Dahlia? When you come back, please stay within hollering distance so we don’t have to go looking for you.”

  Several hours later, Dahlia found herself lost in thought as she painted the majestic valley before her. She had banked herself in a fork of an old tree and tuned out the world as she sketched and blended the pastels in vibrant, living shapes. She was completely unaware of the activity around her…

  * * *

  “I’ve been calling her for over an hour, Blake,” Giada reported, following him down the path. “I can’t find her anywhere.”

  “With her ability to zone out, she probably can’t hear you. Honestly, I would be very happy to know she did.”

  “Happy? Why?”

  “Art is her passion. She does incredible work, but everything has always been inspired by her pain and darkness. Here,” Blake swept his hand, “there is nothing but light, life, and beauty. If this inspires her…”

  “I still don’t like her not answering me,” Giada responded with concern. “Dahlia!”

  “I’ll help you find your girl,” Lee said. “The temperature gets mighty chilly at night and will drop real fast once the sun hits the horizon. We have real long days this time of year, but the nights make up for them.”

  Blake wrinkled his forehead, glancing at the sky. “Thanks. This won’t happen again. I promise,” he said to Giada, now having been given reason for concern.

  * * *

  Dahlia’s mind sprang into the present when she felt a chill penetrate her body. The light was dimming and a wind was starting to blow. She heard voices in the distance and climbed down from the tree, slowly stretching her cramped limbs as she gained her footing.

  “I’m over here!” she called out in response, trying to follow the voices.

  “Dahlia? Blake! She’s over here. Are you all right, baby?” Giada hugged her tightly, stunning Dahlia with her reaction. She held the girl’s face in her hands, her face troubled from fear. “I was so worried about you. I was so afraid you had gotten hurt.”

  Dahlia’s face was pressed hard against the woman’s bosom as she was held with genuine relief and concern. She felt her insides tighten with guilt.

  “I’m sorry,” she said in a tiny voice. “I was drawing and didn’t hear you. I’m telling the truth. I swear!” Dahlia held her breath as memories of her past bubbled to the surface. She prepared herself for rejection.

  “I believe you. Shhh, why are you crying? You’re a
ll right and nothing else matters. Shhh…”

  “Let’s get you inside before it gets colder out here. I’ll have the cook bring food and something warm to your cabin,” Lee offered, watching as Dahlia sobbed helplessly in Giada’s loving arms.

  “Thanks, Lee. Come on, girl. I’ll carry you,” Blake said, lifting Dahlia into his arms like a rag doll. By the time they got to their cabin, Giada was also tearful. She admitted her fear of Dahlia being hurt or lost, and the attachment she was forming with the younger woman. Blake sat silently, listening to Giada’s confession, mingled with Dahlia’s tears. He looked down at his work-hardened hands and sighed.

  “I haven’t felt this useless in years. What can I do?”

  “Give her to me,” Giada said, sitting on a rocking chair. Blake passed Dahlia to Giada and sat back to watch the scene.

  Giada held the girl against her, rocking and smoothing her hair. Dahlia responded naturally, curling up into a small ball as she sought comfort. On impulse, Giada exposed an ample breast and offered the brown, pierced tip to the girl. “Suck on me, child. Go ahead.”

  “Giada, now is not the time…” Blake cautioned.

  “Shhh, Blake. Now is the perfect time. Look at her. My sweet baby,” Giada cooed, closing her eyes as Dahlia wrapped her mouth around the warm peak and began to taste it cautiously. It was soft and warm in her mouth; the feel of the soft flesh against her lips, cheeks, and tongue brought her comfort and a sense of safety. Her tongue began to flick playfully around the nipple ring and Dahlia grew bolder as she reached for the other side. She straddled Giada’s lap, kissed her firmly on the lips and then returned to lick at her sweet breasts, taking delight in the pleasure she was bringing the woman.

  Blake grinned, feeling his manhood grow under the protective shield of his denims. He has promised Humberto that he would not penetrate his wife, but the allowance for oral pleasure still existed. He knelt between Giada’s legs and unbuttoned her Levis, all the while Dahlia nursed eagerly at her breasts. Giada moaned as the pants were slid from her body, followed by the panties.

 

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