Reconciliation [Prometheus in Chains 5] (Siren Publishing Classic)

by Clair de Lune

  “You must get up now and start your routine. I’ll be there to collect you in one hour.”

  “Yes, Master Llewellyn.”

  She hurried out of bed, showered, had breakfast, and made her bed. She dithered over clothes but decided to wear her robe, as he’d want to decide what she’d wear. The doorbell rang, and after checking it was him, she opened the door and retreated two paces. Then she knelt and waited. He held out his right hand, and she took it in both of hers, kissed the back of his hand and sighed. She felt a tremor in his hand. Was he as affected as she by the firm touch of her lips on his skin? Surely not.

  “You need to dress. Show me!”

  She took him to her wardrobe and although he was not altogether pleased by what she had available, as she’d expected, he chose a pencil skirt in dark blue, a white blouse to be left open to show off her cleavage, a dark blue cardigan and navy shoes with two inch heels as she’d none higher. He allowed a white lace balcony bra but no knickers.

  When she was dressed, he inspected the flat. She didn’t have a checklist, but all was to his liking. She glowed as the familiar routines and protocols brought back memories of happier days and tried to tell herself not to get too attached to them this time. But she failed. They gave her life form and meaning and worth.

  “We’re going to see Master Prometheus, who will mediate for us,” he said.

  Startled, she gazed at him, amazed at how acute he was. He’d managed to read her as usual. He escorted her to his car, which was even more elegant in the daylight. Once at the club, he left her with Master Prometheus who asked her what her concerns were.

  “Master Llewellyn has asked me to speak to you before he does. He thinks it may be easier for you to speak to someone other than him about your concerns and worries first. Then we will speak together before him. Do you wish to do that?”

  “Yes, Sir.”

  “Well then, tell me what you want.”

  “I haven’t had another permanent Master since he left. When he did I felt torn in two. I had to stay for my mother, but his going was so very hard to bear.”

  “And now?”

  “At first I continued with the rituals and protocols, but he wasn’t there, so they seemed to have no purpose. Then I did everything I knew he hated, but that didn’t help either. It was worse in many ways. In the end I came to accept he wasn’t coming back, so it was useless to pretend he was. He would never see my rebellion so that was useless, too. Gradually I kept the rituals and protocols that gave me most comfort and security in my new existence.”

  “Existence?” Prometheus asked.

  “Yes, Sir. It wasn’t living. Without him I’m not alive, I exist. Now I’m afraid that he’ll leave me again, and I wouldn’t want to survive that.”

  “He knows, and that’s why he wanted you to speak to me and to speak your mind and get it out in the open. We’ll call him in now.”

  She wasn’t sure if she was ready just yet to face him and tell him all she’d just confessed to Master Prometheus. Master Llewellyn came in and sat opposite Gloria, who made as if to rise, but Llewellyn motioned her to remain seated.

  Master Prometheus began, “Gloria is concerned, as we assumed, that if she commits to this M/s relationship, she will again find herself alone and abandoned. She had an exceedingly hard time last time and was almost lost to us.”

  Llewellyn looked at her, then at Prometheus. She saw that he was surprised by Prometheus’s last statement, but apart from that, she couldn’t tell what he was thinking.

  “I understand her concerns, and I will do all I can here and now to allay them. I’m going to buy a home here in Sheffield. My work in Wales is done and passed on to my successors, and my debt to my friend is repaid in full. He won’t call on me again. There is no one else to whom I owe such a debt. I am free of that and all other obligations. I’ve accepted a permanent post in Prometheus in Chains to train Dominants and subs. The term of the contract is five years, after which it can be renewed. I didn’t want to go, my gloria. I’m sorry I had to leave and hurt you so. I missed my slave. I missed our rituals and protocols, but I’d given my word to a man to whom I owed a debt of honour, and I couldn’t go back on it. I knew you couldn’t leave your mother, and we couldn’t live the M/s lifestyle apart, so I thought it was best to have a clean break and no contact at all. Master Prometheus kept me informed about you, and sometimes I was frantic wanting to get in touch, but I didn’t for fear of making things worse. I had to give you a chance to find happiness with someone else. I don’t know what I’d have done if you had found another Dom. Prometheus never told me how close we were to losing you.” She saw he looked hard at his old friend as he said that.

  She could hardly credit what she was hearing. So he’d been as unhappy as she had, but he was still speaking. She needed to concentrate on what he was saying to her.

  “I understand your mother died last year and you are alone now. I am so sorry for your loss. I know how much she meant to you, and how hard you tried to make her last years happy, and what you sacrificed to do it. I’m doing this with Master Prometheus present, so you realise I am serious. I have one further point to make. The M/s relationship is no longer enough.”

  She gasped and looked. What did he mean? I’m no longer young. Does he mean I’m not enough for him and he wants more than one slave? Maybe he wants a younger woman, but I can’t share him with anyone at all. Does he want to share me with others? Will he want to watch other men take me? In the past he never allowed anyone to put a hand on me or even speak to me without his permission. Has he changed? Then he spoke, and her world rocked on its axis.

  “Cariad, I am forty years old. You’re thirty-five. We need a family. If we don’t do it now, it will be too late. Will you agree to bear our children?”

  She was overwhelmed and looked at him, stunned by what he had said. She’d not thought she would hear that. She did want children, but had never thought it possible in the lifestyle.

  “How would it work, Master?”

  She saw his eyes light up as she said the more intimate “Master” and didn’t follow it by his name, as she had been doing up to this moment. She saw he read it as a good sign as indeed it was. Smiling, he said, “We’ll create new routines and protocols. No protocols should be set in stone. They must evolve as events change our lives. We will adapt them to the needs of our family. Well, do you need time to consider all I have said?”

  “No. Master.”

  She fell to her knees in the slave position, and he rose and offered her his hand, and she kissed it. She heard Prometheus sigh. Was that out of envy? She dismissed the thought, having other things to think about.

  Prometheus left the room.

  Her Master continued speaking. “Have you maintained your journal?”

  “No, Master, there was no one to read it. No one who cared, so I stopped.”

  “Well you will start again tomorrow. We will purchase a new journal. Do you still have the special pen I gave you?”

  “Oh, yes, Master,” she said fervently.

  He had bought her a fountain pen and ink. The pen was engraved “Gloria, from her loving M L” so she wouldn’t be embarrassed if anyone saw it. She had clung to it and kept it by her bed, taking it out of the box to stroke it lovingly when she needed comfort then putting it away again. It was a connection to him, and if she couldn’t have him, at least she had something he’d given her, something that had been in his possession for a while and was chosen by him and purchased especially for her. Pathetic, she knew, but it was a lifeline and a link when every day had been a struggle to survive without him. Sometimes she told herself she ought to throw it out, and she had put it in the waste bin on a few occasions, but she always took it out and returned it to her night table. She’d despised herself for her weakness, but it had been a comfort to hold it and dream of him.

  As he continued speaking of the rituals and protocols that meant so much to them both, the icy hands that had gripped her heart for so long and s
topped her feeling anything began to loosen their hold. Her head came up, her spine straightened, and her eyes came alive. All these signs must have been noticed by her Master, as she saw him smile serenely.

  Chapter Five

  Back in her flat, he said, “You will pack your things and leave this flat today. I’m living in a hotel in Hallam at the moment. It’s a much safer neighbourhood, and you can move in with me. I will see to the termination of your lease. There is the matter of clothes. Most of the ones you have aren’t to my taste, and none of them are very new, so that will have to be addressed. You won’t be wearing knickers unless you have a doctor’s appointment or something like that.”

  She was overjoyed. This is what it had been like before. He took care of her and all she needed. Then doubt reared its ugly head. It had been like this before when they had lived as Master and slave for years, and it had ended. He’d ended it. Oh, she knew Master Llewellyn had said it had been a debt of honour and he couldn’t refuse, but there might be more debts of honour in the future, and then where would she be? True, she’d no mother now to tie her to Sheffield, but so what? He could still decide to go and leave her. She lowered her head, and he must have noticed at once because he said, surely to distract her, “Recite for me the protocol on rising.”

  “I get up and kneel by the bed and wait for you to notice me. I kiss your hand then go and make a morning cup of tea for you. I return to the bed with it and kiss the cup, then I kneel and offer it to you.”

  “Excellent. I see we shall have no difficulty taking up where we left off.”

  She wished she were more sanguine about it all. The protocols were no problem at all because they had devised them between the two of them, and he’d allowed her input. They’d not needed to change them as their lives had not changed that much. Now he was suggesting they update them. How would they work in the hotel?

  “Do you still have the checklist in your computer?” he asked.

  “Yes, Master, I can print some off for you.”

  “Do one, and we will adapt it to the hotel routine. You can print some off for daily use now, but don’t delete the original. When we are in our own home, we will revisit them and adapt them again. One more thing, I shall be researching proper nutrition, exercise, and care for you so you are in a fit state to be a mother and in as little danger of long-term harm from the pregnancy and birth as possible. Are you still working?”

  So he really meant he wanted a family and her to have his children. What will he do if I can’t? If I don’t conceive, will he leave me again? If he does buy a house here that will mean he’s intending to live here, but if I don’t manage to have his baby, he can ask me to leave and install another younger woman, one more likely to bear children. There were no guarantees. What had he asked? Oh, yes, was she working? And he was waiting for her reply.

  “Yes, Master. I returned to my office job when my mother died.”

  “Is that job essential to your happiness, my gloria?”

  “No, Master. I’ve long wanted to retrain. I want to go into child care.”

  They both laughed at that. She remembered how his laugh had filled the house. It was a deep, rich sound that melted her bones. He sang, too, lots of hymns and songs in Welsh. How beautiful they sounded to her.

  “Master, will you sing something for me?”

  He looked surprised but pleased she’d asked. Then he sang “Men of Harlech,” and she sat and gazed at him as he sang, and more of the ice melted. When he’d finished, they sat in silence a while, and she wondered if he remembered how she’d loved to hear him sing in the shower, in the bath, and all over the house. When his friends came around, they all sang in Welsh and sometimes in harmony. When the Welsh rugby team were on TV they had parties, and they all sang the Welsh national anthem. It used to raise goose bumps on the back of her neck as she listened to them. Would they do that again?

  Now he was speaking again and telling her they’d look at the Open University and see if they had a suitable foundation course. She remembered his way. If she’d wanted anything, he at once saw to it that she got it. After she’d been dithering for months about the child care course, he was going to research it, and she’d bet he’d have her enrolled before much longer. Not that he ever forced her to do what she really didn’t want to do. He just got her to make up her mind then went ahead and sorted out whatever she needed. She was tired of having to scrimp and save and make do. It seemed he was well off and he wanted to take care of her. What was wrong with that? She was tired, and all these thoughts swirling around in her head getting no closer to a solution didn’t help. He spoke again, and she saw how closely he looked at her as he did. She’d never been able to keep anything from him. It was useless to try now. He noticed when she was happy or sad or any of her many moods.

  “Now, come and sit on my lap. I am tired of talking and need some comfort.”

  Hitching up her skirt, she got on his lap and sat facing him, straddling his legs, her knees on either side of his huge thighs. It was too much, so she had to get off and take off her skirt. She held his gaze and trembled, as he slowly opened her blouse to free her breasts from it and her bra. He fondled them gently at first but with increasing pressure as he must have read her growing arousal in her eyes. Her breasts were swollen and her nipples hard as pebbles. She ached to feel his mouth on her there, and she felt her eyes widening as her arousal grew and knew he saw it, too. Not for nothing had he always insisted on her looking him in the eyes. She trembled like a leaf in the wind, as she waited for him to make a move, then he flicked her nipples, took them in his long, strong fingers and rolled, pinched, and pulled until she moaned and sobbed in pleasure. The pleasure mounted, as her cunt leaked moisture, and she longed to grind her pussy on his cock, where she could feel his erection through his trousers as the zip pressed ever harder into her. He trapped her gaze, and she knew he wanted to watch the effect his hands were having on her. She couldn’t look away or give in to the desire to grind her cunt against his hard cock. He’d taught her control, and she knew he gloried in this gift of submission to his will. If she wanted release, she’d best stay still, whatever it cost, and await his pleasure. It had ever been thus in the past, but it had always been well worth it. He never neglected her pleasure and never sought his own before hers. At last one hand left her breast to be replaced by his mouth, and that hand drew circles on her stomach, slowly moving nearer and nearer to her pussy. She marvelled anew. His control was total over himself and her. By the time he touched her clit she’d be all but ready to explode. Her pussy was open to him in this position. He slid one finger into her, then, having played a while, withdrew it and replaced it with three. He fucked his fingers in and out, twisting and curling them as he withdrew, driving her wild. He pushed in as far as he could, massaged her G-spot, curling his fingers to find it, and pumped them over it until she was almost out of her mind with the pleasure he lavished on her.

  “Oh, Master, oh please, oh, oh, oh.”

  She fought to keep still and saw him smile as he watched her. He’d always loved the control she had, and she fought hard now to please him. Still she begged because he permitted words. Pleading and begging added to his enjoyment as he’d often told her. Ultimately he’d make her come, screaming, but only if she earned it with her submission to his will. He continued to stimulate her until she felt her climax approaching.

  “Master, I’m coming, I can’t stop it!”

  “Then come for me, now!”

  Her limbs shook and her back arched as her orgasm burst like a dam. He didn’t stop pressing on her clit and fucking his fingers in and out as she fell forward and clutched at his shoulder, spasms shaking her frame. He withdrew his fingers and allowed her to suck them clean, as he gathered her in his strong arms. He rearranged her so that she sat on his lap with her legs over the chair arm then he cuddled her close to him, resting her head on his shoulder, he bent to kiss the top of her head. She felt warm, loved, and safe.

  Chapter Six


  He took her back to the hotel and obtained a second key to his suite. Then he helped to carry her bags into the lift. The rest of her possessions that she didn’t immediately need he’d arranged to have packed up and put into storage. They were to begin house hunting very soon. The suite was on the fifth floor and had a view over the city. It had a large bathroom, bedroom, and a sitting area with a television and DVD player. He told her to put her clothes in the wardrobe, which was huge. There was plenty of space for the clothes she had. He said they would go online and purchase what she needed from Curvy Woman. She could get underwear and suitable clothes for the club from them. He would take her to John Lewis to buy the rest of her clothes unless she preferred another store. They would have a pleasant afternoon shopping for clothes and shoes and maybe tea in a little tea shop.

  She couldn’t believe how her life had changed. She’d longed to have him back for five lonely years, and now he was here. Would he stay? She couldn’t get that doubt out of her mind. She tried to push it away and concentrate on enjoying what she had and hoped he hadn’t noticed, but she suspected he would have. Damn it, but he missed absolutely nothing where she was concerned. She thought about that for a while and realised it was true. He noticed everything where her welfare was concerned, and hope began to blossom. She would try and keep it within bounds, but she was beginning to hope.

  * * * *

  Master had to work at the club, so he had sent her back to the hotel alone. She got into the lift and pressed the button for the fifth floor. Just before the doors closed, a young man she’d noticed a few times sitting in the lobby got into the lift. He was wearing a sweater and the fashionably scuffed jeans. She didn’t look him in the eye but kept her gaze on the floor.

  “Are you staying here?” he asked.

  “Yes,” she said, but she still didn’t look at him.