I don’t want her to come right now. I want her to spend the day aroused. Wanting. Needy. Consumed with desire.
I release her wrists and lift her to standing with my hands on her waist. I position her between my legs. Her knees will not hold her up, so I don’t release her as she sways.
Her face is red and she’s blinking. I can tell by her expression she was close to coming. The angels are on my side.
She licks her dry lips.
When it seems she can stand on her own, I slide my hands up to hold her at the sides of her breasts, stretching her blouse so that her tits rub hard against the starched material.
Her eyelids lower until they are almost closed. Her mouth is open. I watch her face as I drag my thumbs over and flick her nipples.
She slumps toward me, gasping.
I have her though, and I quickly turn her to set her on my knee between my legs. I pull her against my chest and palm the side of her head.
She is shaking and whimpering.
“Shh. You’re okay, cherry blossom.”
Her bottom is still exposed and the warmth seeps through my slacks. When I smooth my other hand up her thigh, I encounter her bunched-up panties. The crotch is soaked. I know she will shoot off like a rocket if I touch her folds again, so I resist. Instead I tug at the tangled panties around her thighs until she squirms in my hold.
I should talk to her about what she’s feeling, but I decide to push her further. “I want you to shave your pussy in the bath tonight and every night from now on.”
She stiffens.
“Little girls do not have hair on their pussies, blossom,” I point out.
“Yes, Sir.” Her voice is barely audible. As is often the case.
I like her slightly off kilter, so I don’t give her quite enough time to regroup before standing her between my legs again. “Hold your skirt up,” I demand.
She lifts it a few inches with trembling fingers.
“Higher, Lucy,” I admonish.
She pulls the hem up to her chest finally. She is shaking.
I give a tug to her pubic hair. “This. I want it gone. All of it. When I tuck you in tonight, I will inspect to make sure you were thorough. If you can get yourself completely smooth, I’ll let you handle it from now on. If not, I’ll spread you open every night and shave you myself.” I lift an eyebrow.
Her face grows even redder. “Yes, Sir.”
I reach for the tangled mess of her panties and right them, pulling them up over her bottom. “You can let go of your skirt now.”
She drops it.
I slide my hands up her middle again, and this time I cup her small breasts. Perfection. I give her nipples a quick pinch between my thumbs and forefingers before releasing them. I straighten her shirt and tuck it back into her skirt, ensuring it is tight across her amazing tits.
She grits her teeth and hunches her shoulders forward.
I know she feels exposed, but she isn’t really. Women all over the country wear far less than what she has on to go to the grocery store. She’s only embarrassed because it feels awkward right now not wearing a bra. She’ll get used to it.
I reassure her. “Lucy, my staff is fully aware of my lifestyle. They’ve seen naked women roaming this house for as long as they’ve been working here.”
She flinches.
I realize I’ve given her the wrong impression. “Not mine, mind you. But my father and his father liked their submissives naked at all times. My father sometimes had several women in the house at once. None of my staff is going to bat an eye at a girl not wearing a bra under her blouse.”
She chewed on her lower lip. It was trembling.
“I enjoy seeing your tits free. I prefer to be able to fondle them whenever I want. I especially like that you’re uncomfortable this way, and that it’s making your pussy wet. Embrace the discomfort.”
“Yes, Sir.”
“All day your nipples are going to rub against your blouse. If I catch you trying to keep it from happening, I will remove this blouse and make you stand in the corner in a very long timeout with your tits to the wall. Understood?”
“Yes, Sir.” Her trembling is precious. The way she shifts her weight from one leg to the other before clamping them together is almost my undoing.
“I have another rule for today.”
She purses her lips.
“Keep your thighs parted. Don’t let them touch. Not even when you’re walking. When you’re seated, spread your knees to the edges of the chair. When you’re walking, learn to do it with your feet parted wider than natural. It will feel awkward at first, but you’ll get used to it.”
She nods and then stiffens. “Yes, Sir.”
“Am I asking too much of you?”
“No, Sir,” she murmurs.
“Safeword?”
“Jacks, Sir.”
“You should go eat your breakfast now. I’m sure it’s been ready a while.” I swat her bottom.
“Yes, Sir,” she says as she steps away from me.
“Tell Evelyn I’ll be in shortly.”
“Yes, Sir.” She spins around. Her hands are fisted at her sides as she walks slowly toward the door, feet parted slightly. I’ve made her uncomfortable.
And I smile as she leaves.
Chapter 25
Lucy
* * *
I have never been so out of my body in my life. Every nerve ending is on fire. Desire consumes me. I don’t breathe until I’ve stepped into the hallway and out of Master Roman’s line of sight.
I have to stop and catch my breath. I’m shaking. I have been nearly constantly since I got up this morning. It’s only been two hours. My bottom is hot and sensitive. My panties feel tight against my warm skin. They are soaked with my arousal.
My nipples are tight, hard buds rubbing against the front of my blouse. No matter what Master Roman has told me, I’m self-conscious about people noticing them. It’s absurd since Nancy knows perfectly well she didn’t give me a bra, Evelyn is the sweetest woman I’ve ever met who would never glance twice, and I rarely see Weston. Besides, he’s older. He won’t notice.
I notice. That’s all that matters. And it’s odd that of all the things I’m dealing with today, my boobs would stand out the most. For heaven’s sake, I’m dressed as a twelve-year-old girl. I have on shoes a child would wear. My socks are folded down. My legs seem gangly and exposed. My panties are high on my stomach and covered with teddy bears.
I almost laugh at my plight as I continue walking toward the kitchen, careful to keep my legs slightly parted. It’s awkward and difficult, but I don’t trust Master Roman not to have cameras on me in the hallway.
“Good morning, Lucy,” Evelyn beams when I enter the kitchen. “I’ve made you scrambled eggs and some Mickey Mouse waffles.” She taps my nose with one finger as I reach the table where she has just set my plate.
I feel twelve. She’s been instructed to treat me as a little girl. My stomach clenches. Embarrassment consumes me as I pull out my chair.
“Sit, little one. Eat before it gets cold.” She rushes across the room and then returns with a tall glass of milk.
The second my butt hits the chair, I flinch. It burns slightly, and I realize for the first time that my skirt is too short to tuck under my thighs. My little girl panties are against the chair. I’m trying to remember everything I’ve been told, and I jerk my knees apart as I recall that instruction. I spread them slowly wide until they are obscenely open under the table.
I pick up my fork and glance around, realizing for the first time that this table really is smaller than a normal table. So is the chair. Because Master Roman intended for me to be his little from the moment I took this job?
I’m not sure how that makes me feel. It’s unnerving.
I’m a child in this house. It was always the plan.
No. Not a child exactly, but a grown woman pretending to be a little girl because it makes me horny and apparently does the same for my Master. Am I out of my mi
nd?
I tremble, unable to take a bite. My mind is racing. Master Roman has left me books about this role I’ve assumed. I’m aware that there are many women in the world who enjoy age play. I’ve seen it. I’ve read about it. But is it normal to feel this way?
“Is something wrong with your food, Lucy?” The deep voice makes me jump. I lift my gaze to find Master Roman leaning casually against the counter, sipping his coffee.
“No, Sir. I’m just… My stomach is fluttering.”
He smiles. “I understand. Take your time. I want you to eat everything, but you don’t have to rush.” He remains in that spot when I think he will return to his office.
I lift the glass of milk and take a long drink, holding my breath. I won’t be able to down it as quickly as I normally do today, but I hope it will help me find my appetite.
As I set the half-empty glass down and wipe my mouth on my napkin, he speaks again. “Wrap your ankles around the legs of the chair, Lucy. It will help you remember my rule.”
Wetness floods my panties. Evelyn is standing just yards away as he orders me to spread my knees. My heart is racing. I’m so aroused again that it hurts. A literal ache is growing in my belly.
It’s the taboo I suppose. The fact that I’m in a man’s home pretending to be a child. The cook knows it. His butler knows it. His headmistress knows it. Yeah, I’m thinking of Nancy as the headmistress at a boarding school. I can’t shake the visual. It’s stuck.
And who is Master Roman in this picture? My father?
I shudder as I stare at my food again, poking it with my fork. I don’t want him to be my father. It makes me feel icky.
Every time I breathe, my nipples brush against my blouse.
“I chose well,” Master Roman continues. “Those clothes suit you perfectly. I like how the skirt fits.” He is staring at how it is spread out over the tops of my thighs and flared behind me on the seat. “Sit up straighter. Use your manners when you eat. Take your time. Come to my office after you’re finished.”
He finally shoves off the counter and leaves me in peace. Relative peace. I don’t think there will be any actual peace for as long as I live in this home.
I take a deep breath and find the will to eat. After a few bites of scrambled eggs, I perk up enough to swallow without difficulty. I switch back and forth between the eggs and the Mickey Mouse waffles. When I’m done, I drain the rest of my milk. It still tastes horrible, but I’ve been drinking it for two weeks now. I’m getting used to the necessity. It’s not optional.
I’m beginning to realize Master Roman has picked an age before puberty so that nothing is optional. I’m not old enough to make my own decisions. I’m also not old enough to have pubic hair. I shudder at the memory, knowing I will worry all day about shaving myself to his satisfaction. I’ve never shaved down there before. I’ve never had cause to.
Tonight will be challenging. On so many levels.
I finally rise from the table and carry my dishes to the sink.
I turn toward Evelyn. “Thank you, ma’am.”
“You’re welcome,” Evelyn says. Her hands are buried in dough she is kneading on the island. “Have a good morning. I’ll see you at lunch.”
I leave the room. It’s not until I’m in the hallway that I remember my thighs and spread my feet wider. I head for the bathroom I’ve used for two weeks, brush my teeth, use the toilet, and then return to Master Roman.
He’s on the phone, but he holds up a book and nods toward my office.
I assume he intends for me to read it, so I carry it to my office, settle myself at my desk, and then glance down. It’s the same book I intended to read last night but never started. Being the Best Me: A Little’s Guide to a Happy Life.
I open it and start with chapter one, wondering if I’ll still be given the jobs of an assistant, or if my new role is replacing my old one. And if that’s the case, will Master Roman hire someone else? I hate that idea. Hopefully, just because he has assigned me to read this book doesn’t mean I’ve been demoted.
I spread my knees apart and tuck my ankles under the swivel chair. It doesn’t have legs, but I improvise. Sitting up straight, I set my gaze on the pages. I’ve been given a task. I’m meant to complete it. There’s a good chance Master Roman will question my reading later.
Chapter 26
Lucy
* * *
I’m fully engrossed in my reading when I sense Master Roman at my side. He leans over my shoulder, setting his hand on the desk. “Have you learned anything?”
I flinch and sit up straighter. “Yes. I mean, uh, yes, Sir.”
He smiles. “Take a break and go have lunch. It’s noon.”
I glance at the time on the computer, shocked. Have I been reading that long? “Okay. Thank you, Sir.” I push to standing, hyperaware of Master Roman in my space. He is inches away from me. I glance at the desk, thinking he must have something else to say. “Oh, I didn’t do any work this morning. Did you mean for me to read for that long?”
He’s smiling at me as he picks up one of my braids and twirls it around his fingers. “Yes. Relax. The world hasn’t come to an end. I want you to focus on yourself right now. If I need something else done, I’ll let you know.” He drops my braid and his fingers come to my cheek. “You’re so precious. Go eat before I change my mind.” He releases me.
I back up a few paces, needing the space so I can breathe.
He nods toward the door. “Go on.”
I scramble from the room. Flustered. What did he mean that he might change his mind? I flush when I consider the possibilities. He was staring at me like he wanted to eat me himself. I’m not sure that would be a bad thing. Maybe I should have balked.
Evelyn has prepared me grilled cheese and tomato soup. It’s delicious, and I’m so grateful to have healthy food for the first time in years. Ramen noodles are fine to get by, but they’re nothing compared to this.
I don’t see Master Roman during lunch, though I’m careful to sit up straight and keep my knees spread. It’s my second meal in this outfit. I’m still unnerved, but not as bad as earlier.
Not until Weston walks through the back door. He nods at me in greeting. “Lucy.”
I lift my sandwich as a way to hide my breasts. “Sir.”
“I trust you slept well in your new room?”
“Yes, Sir. Thank you.”
He smiles at me. I think it’s the first time I’ve seen him smile. He’s usually rather serious. When he drove me to and from work, we often sat in silence. I don’t think he’s a very social man. “I’ll let you finish your lunch then.” He finally walks away, saying something to Evelyn as he passes.
I lower my arm. This situation with not wearing a bra is the hardest part. It’s weirder than any other aspect of my submission. The thought that I won’t be permitted to wear a bra for a very long time makes me even more self-aware.
After lunch as I’m heading back to Master Roman’s office, he pops into the hallway and stops me. “Why don’t you go outside for a while. You need some fresh air. I never think to let you out during the day.” He takes my arm, gently guiding me back through the kitchen, only this time he leads me to the far side of the large room where floor-to-ceiling windows lead out to the enormous patio I’ve only seen from inside.
He opens a glass door and leads me out onto the deck. It’s nice out. The weather can be unpredictable in Seattle, but today there are few clouds in the sky and it’s not raining.
The sound of the waterfall cascading down into the hot tub is soothing. There is steam coming off the surface of the water. Inviting. I’ve never been in a hot tub. I wander closer, aware that Master Roman is at my back.
“I’ll order you a bathing suit so you can use the hot tub. Sorry I didn’t think of that before,” he states.
I turn toward him. “Thank you, Sir. I feel weird about you always buying me things. You’ve done too much already.”
He steps close to me and takes my chin, tipping my head back.
“If you haven’t noticed, I make plenty of money. It’s nothing for me to purchase a few outfits and a swimsuit, Lucy.”
“It’s more than that, and you know it.” I roll my eyes.
He grips my chin tighter. “Don’t get sassy. You may express your feelings, but don’t forget to remain respectful.”
“Sorry, Sir,” I murmur.
He drops my chin. “Come on. Let me show you around the gardens. My gardeners keep the property in excellent shape. It’s even magical in winter, especially when it snows.”
Will I still be here in the winter? It seems so far off in the future. I can barely imagine what is going to happen to me later tonight, let alone months from now. Will it get easier? This submitting?
Master Roman takes my hand and leads me to a path off the back deck. His garden is truly beautiful. People would pay admission to see it if they knew about it.
We wander down a winding path between the plants and flowers. Eventually, we come to a bench, and Master Roman sits. He’s still holding my hand, and he pulls me between his legs and sets me on his knee just like he did earlier in the day.
I’m acutely aware of my bottom—covered only in underwear—against his slacks. They are black. He also has on a perfectly ironed white shirt and a dark blue tie. I’ve never seen him in any other clothing. Not even at the club.
He rests one hand on my hip around my waist and sets the other on my thigh. He can nearly reach all the way around me, and the hand on my leg covers the majority of my sensitive skin. “Tell me what you learned this morning.”
“In the book, Sir?” My body is alert now with him touching me in so many places.
His fingers stroke back and forth over my inner thigh. There is no way to ignore what he’s doing to me. I’m instantly aroused. My nipples jump to attention. “Yes, blossom. The book. What did you learn?” He squeezes my thigh.
I lift my fingers to my mouth and subconsciously chew on my thumb nail.
Master Roman lifts his hand from my thigh and tugs my finger from my mouth. “Stop doing that. It’s a horrible habit.”
Raising Lucy Page 13
