Leaving Roman

by Becca Jameson

  He wouldn’t hesitate, and this is why I’m conditioned to remain still and let him touch me.

  When I pull my bottom lip between my teeth, his finger disappears. His eyes dance with mirth. He’s pleased he has affected me, but he’s also not going to take this further. Not now. Lord knows when I might get my next orgasm after my earlier stunt.

  “Let’s move to the dining room,” he says and then sets his hands on my hips and lifts me off his lap, setting me on the floor.

  When I turn around, I’m shocked to see that we’re alone.

  He chuckles. “You were in your headspace, blossom.” He pulls me between his legs once again, flattening me against his cock and chest. His hands run up my thighs, over my bottom, and continue higher until he stops at my shoulder blades.

  My panties are exposed. I shiver, my hands on his shoulders.

  He pulls me even closer and takes my lips again. “Mmm. What flavor is that lip gloss Claudia got you?”

  “Cherry,” I murmur, nervous about the fact that I obviously didn’t get it all washed off.

  He licks his lips. “I think I like it.” His hands ease back down to my hips. “Let’s join everyone else before the food is cold.”

  Chapter 3

  Lucy

  * * *

  Everyone is finding their seats in the dining room when we join. As usual, Master Roman will sit at the head of the table. He pulls out a chair to the right of his, and I lower myself as gracefully as possible. The hardest thing I ever had to get used to was realizing that dresses that barely cover my bottom do not do so when I’m seated.

  In fact, Master Roman prefers I don’t even try. And as usual, as I lower, he grabs the hem to ensure no corner of it ends up under my bottom. The dress flows around my thighs and settles behind me on the seat.

  Master Roman pushes me in and then leans over my shoulder to kiss my cheek. “Knees, baby girl.” His tone is soft and sweet. His word choice makes me hesitate before I spread my thighs wide.

  He’s never called me baby girl. I glance at him as he takes his own seat, wondering if it’s a random endearment, or if he has something specific up his sleeve.

  As Evelyn brings our salads, everyone besides me discusses the club. It’s only natural. Master Roman is the owner. Master Julius is the manager. Beck, Levi, and Claudia are all members. I’m pretty sure Beck doesn’t go to Surrender often. He prefers to play at home, but he’s been there from time to time.

  I’m the odd man out, and that’s my fault. I’ve never been able to convince myself that I can step out in public playing a role that’s very private to me. Adding these people in the room and Master Roman’s staff was hard enough and took me some time. I’ve calmed considerably where these close friends are concerned. But strangers? I’m not ready for that. Not sure I ever will be.

  It’s one of the reasons I dragged my feet on attempting to contact my brother. I wasn’t ready to combine the outside world with my private life. I’m still not. Even after three years it unnerves me to consider letting people outside of the fetish world, family or otherwise, into my private life.

  It’s not like I’ve never been to Master Roman’s club. I have. Five times. I had a guest pass three years ago. It’s where Master Roman first spotted me. It’s where he immediately decided I would be his. In my five visits, all I ever did was observe and learn. I never went back.

  “Did you say you’re getting an intern for the summer?” Master Roman asks as he picks up his fork.

  Levi nods. “Yep. She arrives next Sunday.”

  Claudia looks like she’s holding back laughter, and Julius is rolling his eyes. Interesting. Did they not agree on the intern? I don’t ask. Most of the time when we have people over for dinner, I keep quiet and let the others speak. If they address me specifically, I answer, but otherwise I remain in my role. It’s comfortable for me. Being twelve gives me permission to remain introverted. I get so deeply ensconced in the dynamic that I often let myself think I’m a young girl, one who wouldn’t interrupt adults when they’re speaking. It’s easier.

  Master Roman glances at all of them. “Did you not agree on who to hire or something?”

  Beck swallows his bite and responds. “Hell, we didn’t really agree that we needed an intern. I’ve never even seen a picture of her.”

  Levi shoots him a glare. “That’s totally your fault, and don’t act like I overstepped.” He turns back to Master Roman. “We discussed it. They’re just worried she won’t fit in.”

  Julius takes a deep breath. “We’re just giving you shit.”

  Beck chuckles lightheartedly. “Yeah. We know you’re right. We need to add some female blood to the business in the long run. Taking a summer intern is perfect. It will give us a chance to see how the dynamic is with a woman around.”

  Claudia, who is seated to my right, sets her wine glass down before contributing. “I think it’s a great idea, but does this mean you’re planning to spend the summer without a submissive in your home?”

  I’m clear on the usual arrangement between Julius, Beck, and Levi. They train women. Help them find their authentic selves in the kink world. It’s wonderful. Any woman who gets the opportunity to work with them is lucky indeed.

  “That’s the plan,” Julius responds. “Especially since she’s staying in our home. Three months.”

  Wow. That shocks me. Julius owns the house. It’s more like a mansion, similar to this one that Master Roman owns. He inherited it from his grandparents, same as Roman.

  Ten years ago, Levi and Beck joined Surrender and befriended Julius. They randomly happened to dominate a woman together one night. It proved to be a skill they shared, and they never stopped.

  I’ve often wondered how they manage to work with random women in three-month increments without ever deciding they want to keep her or one of them ending up splitting from the trio to enter a separate relationship with her.

  It’s none of my business, of course. It’s their dynamic, and it works for them.

  Evelyn eases around the table almost imperceptibly refilling water glasses and wine glasses. Almost imperceptibly. I’m not remotely oblivious when she suddenly leans around me and sets a glass of milk above my plate.

  My breath catches, and I set my fork down slowly, lowering my hands to my lap without taking my gaze off the glass. I blink a few times, hoping I’m seeing things. Nope. It’s still there. And most definitely a glass of milk. A tall one.

  I swallow the lump in my throat.

  No one is paying attention, including Master Roman. Though I know better. He’s calculated this. I hate milk. He knows it well. When I first moved in, we negotiated that I would drink one glass a day. In the morning. At breakfast. Strictly to make sure I got enough calcium. I haven’t had a glass of the gross white liquid put in front of me at dinner ever.

  Master Roman for sure is testing me. I finally glance at him. He’s watching me with slightly narrowed eyes, but what he says makes me freeze again. “Use two hands, blossom.”

  Holy shit. No. I would never say that out loud in this house, but I sometimes think it. I blink at him, realization dawning.

  When I first moved into this house, Master Roman had already figured out I was a little. It’s what attracted him to me in the first place. I had no concept of what that meant, but learned he was not wrong. Our next step was to play around with different ages to find out what suited me. We started with the age of twelve and never really changed. At least not developmentally.

  Twelve is the year most girls are just starting puberty. They are old enough to know quite a bit about the world, but young enough to maintain an innocence. That innocence is what I hold on to. Or pretend to at this point.

  Master Roman has generally treated me like I’m twelve most of the time with the exception of my clothing. I never know quite what to expect in that arena. Some days he aims younger, some days older. It doesn’t change the way he speaks to me or what he expects of me.

  Something is different tonight
. We have hardly ever dabbled out of the general range of twelve. I’ve been so busy with school for months. Master Roman didn’t do anything to keep me from completing my studies in all that time. Nothing like this weird stunt he’s pulling on me now.

  Is it because I no longer have to worry about being in class tomorrow morning, or finishing an assignment late tonight? Maybe he’s decided to push my boundaries. Experiment.

  But I suspect this has something to do with me pushing his buttons earlier. He’s reminding me that I’m his, and he makes the decisions. To add emphasis to his point, he reaches for my water glass and removes it, setting it by his plate. “That’s enough to drink this close to bedtime.”

  My face heats up. Yes. He’s definitely steering us into new territory.

  There are four other people at this table. None of them are paying attention to this side discourse, mostly because in their world that would be considered inappropriate. No one steps in between a Dom and his submissive in the fetish world.

  Claudia continues to ask questions about the intern who’s coming next week. Beck, Levi, and Julius answer her and banter among themselves.

  My ears are ringing with uncertainty. I must be about five considering the reminder that I should use two hands to pick up my glass and the implication that I might wet the bed. A long time ago, I told Master Roman five was the lowest age I would ever consider experimenting with. Apparently he has remembered that and chosen this moment to take me to a new place.

  He lifts a brow, my signal he’s waiting for a response.

  “Yes, Sir,” I mumble.

  “Good girl.” He taps my nose.

  I’m finished with my salad, so I decide to start putting a dent in the milk. I’d rather just down it holding my breath, but I know that will elicit a reprimand for drinking too fast.

  As I reach for the glass, I remember what I’ve been told moments ago. I take it with two hands, bring it to my lips, and hold my breath while I take several long swallows. When I set it back down, I regret the decision because now I don’t have water or the main course to take the taste out of my mouth.

  On top of that, my heart is racing, and I internally chastise myself because I realize I’m aroused. The renewed focus on my pussy stems from the exact place it always comes from—pleasing Master Roman. Being his good girl. Even when I don’t like what’s expected of me.

  Right now, he’s smiling at me in approval.

  In addition, though I know five is not an age I want to play in very long, there is something refreshing about knowing even less is expected of me now as far as conversation or behavior. If I can just get through the milk, I might enjoy an evening of experimenting with a new age. It shakes things up. Keeps our relationship fresh. It’s not the first time he has thrown me for a loop. It’s just the furthest reaching in terms of our agreement.

  I don’t have the stress of finals or papers or tests weighing on me. Why not try something new?

  Luckily, Evelyn sets our dinner plates in front of us soon. I don’t have to wonder for long what Master Roman’s going to say next. “I want you to try everything on your plate. At least two bites. If you don’t like it, that’s fine. But at least try it.”

  There is absolutely nothing on this plate I won’t like or haven’t eaten before. I’m not a picky eater, and he knows it. “Okay, Daddy.” I rarely call him Daddy in front of other people, but when I do it now, it gives me a rush.

  After a few bites, Claudia turns toward me. “Are you relieved to be done with finals?”

  “Yes, ma’am.” There have been times when I have had conversations with Claudia in which I didn’t assume quite as deep a role as others, especially times when I needed a female’s advice or someone to talk to. Now is not one of those times. I’m deep in a role. It may have changed age brackets, but I know I’m not permitted to speak frankly to Claudia right now. As far as Master Roman is concerned, I’m a little girl on my best behavior at the adult table.

  “I’m sure you’re looking forward to having some free time. I remember how exhausted I was near the end of college, and I didn’t squeeze it into three years like you did.”

  I’m not really exhausted because I’ve never been permitted to be. Unlike other students who procrastinated and spoke of assignments they hadn’t started, Master Roman insisted on me maintaining a strict schedule to ensure I got my work done, slept plenty of hours, and had time to spend with him. Early on I decided to take classes both summers so that I could graduate in three years. After all, I was already twenty-two when I started down this path. I had never in my wildest dreams expected I would go to college. I couldn’t have afforded it.

  “I’m looking forward to spending more time doing some art projects,” I inform her. And finding myself.

  Claudia’s questions are notably well-planned. She doesn’t address the elephant in my life by asking me what I intend to do next. Do I want to get a job? Will I work for Master Roman? This obvious omission tells me she has spoken to Master Roman about my future, and he’s apparently given her the impression she isn’t to discuss it with me.

  Interesting.

  “Your food is getting cold, baby girl,” Master Roman informs me.

  “Yes, Sir.” I shift my gaze to my plate and continue eating.

  After every few bites, I lift my glass of milk with both hands and drink a few inches. I don’t want to draw this out. I don’t even care if I’m completely parched afterward. I just want it over with.

  “That’s a good girl,” Master Roman praises. “Finish your dinner. It’s past your bedtime.”

  And another line to impress upon me that I’m certainly not twelve tonight. It’s probably seven o’clock. Most nights Master Roman insists I get eight hours, which usually means ten at night until six in the morning. In the early months of my stay, I slept every night in my little girl room. I was supposed to go to my room at eight, take a bath, get ready for bed, and then I could read for a while. Master Roman often tucked me in near ten.

  That was the best part of every day, the part when we were most intimate. Usually I was permitted to come even before we started having sex. I have many fond memories of those nights. I was so ridiculously innocent when I came here. A virgin with no experience. I learned everything from Master Roman, and the world he showed me made me never want to look back.

  I’ve never been with another man, and as far as I’m concerned, I never will be. Master Roman fulfills me in every way. I can’t imagine how any woman on earth could possibly get more sexual gratification than I get nearly every day. Though I suspect today is not going to be one of those days.

  I clean my plate, partly because I’m hungry, partly because Evelyn has made my favorites, and partly because I know it will please Daddy.

  When I set my fork down, Master Roman hands me my water. “Don’t overdo it, baby girl.”

  I reach for the glass, but when he doesn’t let go, I remember to use both hands. I drink only a few sips and then give it back.

  He cups my face gently with one hand. “I was proud of you today.”

  My insides flip over. There’s nothing more gratifying than making him proud. “Thank you, Daddy.” I sit up straighter and tip my face into his hand. This is what makes our relationship all worth it. These sweet times when I know I’ve pleased him and he’s rewarding me.

  I’ve completely forgotten about the cake until Evelyn sets a slice in front of me.

  Master Roman ruffles the side of my head over my braid. “It’s your favorite. Vanilla cream.” He winks at me. Any chance he gets to serve me something vanilla humors him. I may have been as vanilla as they come when I first arrived, but there isn’t a vanilla bone in my body now.

  Especially when I consider the fact that my ardor kicked up several notches the moment he cupped my cheek. I stopped questioning it a long time ago. There’s no good reason to worry about why I get aroused playing the role of his little. I just do. I’m not alone. There are many people like me on the planet.

 
; There’s something about turning my life over to a strong Dom that makes my pussy and nipples throb. When I leave this house to attend classes, I let my mind switch to another role. I’m still never completely ordinary, considering what I wear and how my mind thinks, but it’s a different role. One where I’m pretending to be an average college student on the outside.

  When I step back into the house, I’m always relieved to be someone’s little. I even thrive on the transition from one role to the other. I’m always poignantly aware of every tiny nuance of my two selves as I remove my jeans and long-sleeved shirts and finally my training bras. Sliding into my younger role comes naturally. I spend a lot of time horny and bothered in this house. Wanting. Needing. Waiting.

  As I finish my cake, I glance at Master Roman several times. He’s pleased. He enjoys caring for me as much as I enjoy being cared for. It fills a need we both have. It works.

  I’m apparently five right now, but my breasts are heavy and my clit is swollen.

  When I finish my cake, I’m squirming in my seat. My body apparently hasn’t gotten the memo that my antics earlier blew it for the both of us. Indefinitely.

  “You need to get to bed, baby girl. It’s way past your bedtime.”

  “Yes, Daddy,” I murmur.

  “Go brush your teeth and potty. I’ll be up in a few minutes to tuck you in.”

  There is no doubt he means for me to go to my little girl room. I’m not even going to question him. “Yes, Sir.” I push my chair back and stand, smoothing my dress down to make sure I’m covered. I turn toward our guests. “Thank you all for coming and for the gifts.”

  “You’re so welcome, honey,” Claudia croons. “Sleep well.”

  “Congrats, kid,” Julius says, his eyes dancing. “You did good.”