Maggie and the Master

by Sarah Fisher

  MAGGIE AND THE MASTER

  by

  SARAH FISHER

  Maggie and the Master published in 2003 & 2011

  by Chimera Books. Published as an eBook in 2011

  by Avid eBooks.

  www.avid-erotic-ebooks.co.uk

  New authors are always welcome, or if you’re already a published author and have existing work, the eBook rights of which remain with or have reverted to you, we would love to hear from you.

  This novel is fiction - in real life practice safe sex.

  This eBook is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, resold, hired out or otherwise circulated without the publisher’s prior written consent in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published, and without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser. The characters and situations in this eBook are entirely imaginary and bear no relation to any real person or actual happening.

  Copyright Sarah Fisher. The right of Sarah Fisher to be identified as author of this book has been asserted in accordance with section 77 and 78 of the Copyrights Designs and Patents Act 1988.

  Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter One

  Max Jordan smiled at Katya and ran a hand over her cheek and then down to her shoulders, his fingers moving slowly, tracing the curve of her breasts and the faultless contours of her pink nipples. Under his touch first one and then the other hardened into tight buds.

  Eyes downcast, feet apart, hands behind her back; over the past few months Katya had become the very epitome of the dutiful slave, and thought Max, was all the better for it. Since he had completed her training she was altogether calmer, more self-assured, even more beautiful than when they first met. She was the picture of elegance when they were out together and completely wanton, his to command and enjoy, when they were in private.

  Katya had been a pleasure to train - a natural submissive, despite her initial resistance. The girl had been remarkably quick to understand what was required of her, and helping her to find the way past her natural resistance, finding the way to make her - and others like her - compliant and eager to serve him was what Max Jordan did best.

  She trembled slightly as he stroked his fingertips over her belly and parted the lips of her sex to enter and explore. There was no hint of resistance; rather he sensed her eagerness for his caress, his attentions, his dominance.

  Since they’d met Max had helped Katya unlock the natural submissiveness she had hidden away for so long. Now her body and her mind and her very soul were his to use and abuse and pleasure exactly as and when he chose, to give to whom he wanted, to deny her, to indulge her, to beat her until her screams filled the room and lingered in his dreams.

  Tonight he thought how exquisite she looked, totally naked, her mons shaved and oiled for his approval, her face betraying just a hint of make-up to emphasise her full lips and deep brown eyes, her short blonde hair brushed off her face making her look almost elfin. Her black and silver collar was cut deep to accentuate the line of her slender neck, and the matching lead - well, he intended to hold on to the lead for just a little longer.

  ‘You understand what is happening, my little one?’ he asked tenderly. Max had no need to shout or bark instructions at her; Katya had long since learned the penalties of disobedience and the rewards of complete submission.

  ‘Yes… Master.’ Katya’s voice was low and soft and faltered over the words.

  He smiled again, and tipping her face up to his pressed his lips to hers. He could see the glitter of tears in her eyes and felt the trembling flutter of her lips like a trapped butterfly against his.

  ‘You will be well taken care of, my precious,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t have it otherwise.’

  She didn’t have a chance to reply.

  ‘Master, Mr Gilbert is here.’

  Max swung round at the sound of his housekeeper’s voice. ‘Wonderful, Mrs Griffin, would you show him in, please?’

  He stepped away from Katya and hung the lead up on the hook alongside her. ‘Spread you legs a little wider, my dear; Jack will want to inspect his new toy.’ Without lifting her head Katya did exactly as instructed. Six months earlier she would have fought him, answered him back or made some smart remark, and it was interesting how the crop and a firm hand could teach a girl the virtues of silence and complete obedience. For a moment, master or not, Max’s heart ached. He would miss her.

  ‘Ah, Max, there you are. How’s life treating you?’

  Max crossed the room to greet his guest. ‘Fine, Jack, how nice to see you again. Come in and make yourself at home. Would you like a drink?’

  ‘Scotch would be good.’

  ‘How was the drive?’

  ‘Very good, hardly any traffic…’ Their exchange of pleasantries was brief; Max could see that Jack’s attentions were already elsewhere. ‘So this is the little creature you told me about, is it?’ he said, walking over to the corner where Katya was secured.

  Soft lights picked out the delicate glow of her skin; she was so perfect, so very delicately made that she almost looked like a statue standing there.

  ‘Indeed,’ said Max. Her delicate appearance belied the way her body writhed beneath his like a hungry animal, the way she opened up under his touch, the silky wetness that pooled in her sex, so much that often as he buried his cock deep inside her it seeped down her thighs.

  Jack pursed his lips and looked the girl up and down thoughtfully, as if appraising livestock. ‘Not bad… not bad at all,’ he said, stepping a little closer. ‘May I?’

  ‘Help yourself,’ said Max, pouring a generous measure of scotch into the two tumblers on a side table. ‘After all, after tonight she’ll be all yours. Assuming of course that you want another of my girls in your harem?’

  Jack laughed as he surveyed Katya. She stood perfectly still, just as she had been taught, dark eyes resolutely downcast. ‘Hardly a harem, Max, and besides, your girls are always so well schooled. I’ve never had the stamina for breaking and training myself, whereas you - well, it’s a gift. A gift we are all pleased to enjoy.’

  ‘Flattery will not reduce the price,’ said Max wryly.

  ‘As if I would think such a thing,’ said Jack with a grin. He took the drink offered him, and fishing the ice from the glass drew it down over Katya’s throat and then traced a slow glittering line to her belly, before easing it slowly across the contours of her sex.

  The girl shivered, and with her eyes closed threw back her head as it passed over her clit, letting out a gasp as his fingers found the heat of her.

  ‘Wet already,’ he said admiringly. ‘My, my, but you train them so very well, dear fellow.’

  ‘Anticipation plays a great part in this game, Jack; you should know that by now,’ said Max. ‘As a slave Katya already has some idea of what to expect. The secret is to tell them just enough to feed the imagination, but not enough to spoil the surprise.’

  ‘So you keep telling me, in which case let’s not disappoint her, eh?’ Jack said, pushing the ice home, forcing it deep inside her, his fingers parting her outer lips to find his mark. Katya gasped.

  Max closed his eyes for an instant, imagining the way the well-toned muscles of Katya’s cunt would close tight around those invading fingers, imagined the sensation as the ice instantly began to melt, glistening rivulets trickling do
wn the insides of Katya’s taut thighs, water mixing with the musky perfume of her body.

  He could see the girl’s cheeks reddening furiously and smiled to himself. It was a fine balance to unleash the wanton in a girl whilst still retaining a certain coy self-consciousness, an ability to feel shame mixed amongst the most extreme pleasures.

  Jack’s finger explored deeper still, moving rhythmically while his thumb lifted to brush her clitoris, and in the stillness of the room Katya let out a long moan, a heady mixture of pleasure and humiliation.

  Pulling out, Jack took the lead down from the hook and snapped it tight. ‘Get on your hands and knees, bitch. I want to see exactly what it is I’m getting for my money.’

  Wordlessly Katya complied, her head down, hips raised, knees well apart so that every inch of her body was available to the man Max had so recently sold her to. Jack left her there a moment or two so that the extent of her submission was emphasised.

  He then crouched beside her and ran his hands over her breasts, cradling their weight in his palms, teasing and pinching the nipples, before working farther back over her flanks and thighs.

  ‘What’s this, not a bruise, nor a single welt?’ he mused conversationally, passing a hand over the ample curve of her buttocks before turning back to Max.

  ‘No, I thought you might prefer to mark her yourself.’

  Jack laughed. ‘How well you know me,’ he said. ‘What shall we say, then? Twenty with the cane? Or perhaps the crop? Or maybe just an old fashioned spanking to begin with?’

  ‘Whichever you prefer, Jack, you know we can accommodate them all here.’ On the floor between them Katya remained totally motionless.

  Jack glanced at the wall of Max’s study, hung with the instruments of his craft. The man smiled appreciatively. ‘That’s a rather handsome cat you have there. It’s new, isn’t it?’

  ‘Handcrafted by a dear friend of mine,’ Max confirmed. ‘Would you care to try it out?’ He passed it across, and Jack hefted the weight and tried a couple of practice sweeps to judge how the weight lay before taking off his jacket and moving behind Katya.

  ‘Twenty?’ he said again, and Max nodded. Katya was certainly not afraid of pain, although like most of the slaves he’d trained over the years her relationship with it was ambivalent - love and hate combined in a single instant. Max could see a sheen of sweat on the girl’s back and detected the slight tremble in her legs as Jack prepared.

  His first strike was clumsy, missing her buttocks and instead winding the snapping tendrils around her thighs, biting the silky skin.

  ‘One,’ she sobbed, grimacing.

  The cat hissed again.

  ‘Two,’ she gasped, Jack hitting her squarely across her bottom, making her rock forward. He waited until she was still, waited for that instant when she just started to relax and then struck again, lower this time so the tails cut across the tops of her thighs.

  ‘Three,’ she squealed.

  Max felt his pulse quicken as she writhed under the cat’s attentions, letting the pain echo through her. He could almost feel the crack of it like some electrical charge that lit a fire in his belly. Damn she looked beautiful; her skin reacted quickly, the bite of the cat’s tails already lifting narrow stripes and red kisses on her creamy white flesh. Tonight he and Jack would share her and tomorrow she would be gone forever.

  As Jack lay on each stroke Katya counted diligently, between cries and strangled sobs, calling out her punishment. When at last he was done she crawled over to him, her eyes bright with tears, and kissed the cat that lay in his hands, thanking him for its hot caress before returning to the position on all fours.

  Jack, breathless, eyes bright with excitement, ran his fingers through her hair and then began to stroke her burning flesh. She mewled like a kitten and pressed against him as he worked over the welts, caught up in the heat and power of the pain. Using the juices from her sex he wetted the tight puckering of her bottom and without prelude began to explore her most secret places - places that until now had been Max’s alone.

  Katya whimpered as he pushed a finger into her bottom, and Max knew her pleasure was mixed with a potent sense of violation, although she knew better than to protest.

  Then Jack unfastened his fly and with one seamless motion drove his throbbing cock deep into the girl’s tight sex, his finger still buried deep in her rear. Instinctively her back dipped to meet him as he drove deeper still.

  Max smiled; it fell to her new master to have the first choice of pleasures and explore his new prize, after all, he had paid well for the privilege. But Max had known her first, brought her to this place, this state of sweet surrender, and nothing and nobody would ever take that away from him.

  Contentedly he settled on a chair in front of Katya, and with no fuss guided his aching cock deep into her waiting mouth. Her impatient tongue ran around the tip, teasing his shaft, working feverishly back and forth between it and the single eye before drawing him deep. He eased back, letting her pleasure him. He was going to miss Katya.

  As if reading his mind, between gritted teeth, Jack said, ‘What are you going to do once she’s gone, Max?’

  The man smiled. ‘Don’t you worry about me, Jack; they say when the student is ready the master will appear, and trust me, in my experience it works the other way around as well. A new girl will turn up soon enough. Katya is just the latest. There is always another…’ Looking at the face of his companion Max knew he might as well be talking to himself. Buried to the balls in the girl’s compliant body, Jack snorted and threw back his head, pleasure suffusing his heavy features and driving away any further need for conversation.

  ‘So, what do you think of this?’ said Kay, executing a faultless pirouette across the sitting room.

  Maggie Howard looked up from her book at her new lodger and grinned. ‘You’re not seriously going to go out in that, are you?’

  Kay’s shapely body looked as if it had been poured into the tiny rubber dress she was wearing, with its thin straps and low-cut neckline. The dress ended six inches above her knees, showing off a good tan and shapely, slim legs, enhanced by high black patent stilettos. With her long blonde hair twisted up into a French pleat, tendrils hanging down to frame her features, Kay looked as if she had just stepped out of some erotic fantasy.

  ‘Certainly am,’ she said, handing Maggie a cloth and a spray bottle. ‘Mike bought it for me as a present; we’re going to some new club over in Moorville. Don’t wait up.’

  ‘I wasn’t planning to. What’s this?’ said Maggie, peering down at the bottle. Mike had to be at least ten years older than Kay and sexy in a dark, predatory way that Maggie found both incredibly intimidating and hugely exciting, not that she intended to share that fact with Kay, who was totally besotted with him.

  ‘Latex polish. I want you to buff me up.’

  Maggie lifted an eyebrow. ‘Meaning what, exactly?’

  Kay laughed. ‘Polish me; you need loads of talcum powder to get these things on and it kills the shine. Go on, I can’t reach.’

  Maggie obliged. Although it felt odd to polish something that gave and wriggled and giggled under her touch, but even so a couple of sprays and a whisk over from the cloth and the little rubber dress glowed with a deeply satisfying patina, emphasising the ripe curves and plains of Kay’s gym-honed body.

  ‘This would make a great subject for your column,’ said Kay, checking her appearance in the mirror.

  ‘What would?’

  ‘Sex under wraps, fetish stuff; you know, whips and chains and leather. Bondage and rubber.’ Kay’s eyes widened mischievously. ‘This new club would be just the place for a bit of research.’

  Maggie shook her head. ‘I write a lifestyle section, Kay; mid-30’s angst, looking for Mr Right, getting a cheap loan to buy the car of your dreams, building a garden, buying a sofa. And anyway, all that kind of stuff, whips and things, it’s a joke, isn’t it?’

  Kay smiled. ‘If you say so,’ she said. ‘Tell you what, I’ll give
you a couple of website addresses, go and take a look and then tell me what you think. It’s another world out there. People who treat sex as a hobby - an addictive game, worth playing well.’

  Maggie pulled her best sceptical face, at which point the doorbell rang. ‘Prince Charming?’ she suggested.

  ‘I should think so, unless you’re expecting someone.’

  ‘Hah - don’t rub it in unless you want me to double your rent.’

  Giggling, Kay picked up the black leather coat Mike had bought her the week before and went to answer the door, while Maggie turned her attention back to the book. She could hear muffled voices in the hall and waited for the sound of the door to close and for silence to descend again.

  She’d been divorced for almost two years, and although generally life was better - there being nowhere lonelier or more soul destroying than a bad relationship - any lingering optimism about how good life would be out on the far side had long since faded.

  Own house, own job, own lodger taken in to make ends meet. Maggie sighed; it wasn’t such an exciting story as she’d imagined. It wasn’t that she was short of men, it was just that she was short of the right men.

  Maggie glanced unseeing at her novel, wondering what was taking Kay and Prince Charming so long, hoping they hadn’t decided on a quickie in the hall before going clubbing.

  Kay put her head back around the door.

  ‘What, don’t tell me the pumpkin and six has broken down already,’ said Maggie.

  ‘No, Mike said that if you’re at a loose end tonight maybe you’d like to come along with us.’

  Maggie laughed. ‘Are you serious? What, in my pyjamas?’

  ‘Don’t be so daft. I’ll lend you something. I’ve got loads of things upstairs.’

  ‘Thanks,’ Maggie said, ‘but I really don’t feel like it tonight. You go and have a good time.’

  ‘He meant it,’ Kay said. ‘It would do you good to get out. Treat it as research.’

  ‘I’m touched, but I’d feel totally out of place,’ said Maggie flatly. ‘And besides, I hate playing gooseberry.’