Master Dan

by Natalie Dae

  No. She doesn’t figure. Stop letting her bother you.

  We’d been to an underwear boutique that catered to clientele who wanted more than the average lacy knickers and bra. It was situated behind the shopping center, tucked neatly away down a meandering, brick-paved alley where specialist shops sold the kind of things people couldn’t buy in department stores. A toy shop boasting model airplane kits. A 1960s-style hairdressers, where women sat under old-fashioned dryers, their hair in rollers instead of being curled by heated tongs. A china place, selling teapots with matching cups and saucers, or dainty doilies and silver cake stands.

  The corset had been displayed in a window, worn by a headless, armless torso covered in skin-colored felt. The mannequin had brought to mind Italy, art and sculptures—except the usual black-veined gray marble was absent. I’d fallen in love with the garment it wore immediately. It had spoken to me of softness yet still retained the raw carnality I was used to adopting when in role. It said so much—to me, deep in my soul. I imagined myself wearing it, the way it would transform my mindset and give me a sense of being strong yet vulnerable.

  Perfect.

  And I felt perfect in it now. My stockings, black and sheer, were held up by dainty straps, and a pink garter spanned the top of one thigh. Black shoes finished the outfit off nicely.

  I stared at Dan as he stood in the bedroom doorway with the backdrop of our curtained, four-poster bed with a gilt-edged mirror attached to the headboard. Stripped of his commanding daywear—white shirt, black tie and suit—reduced him to something else. Someone else. With his lean form and subservient facial expression, he appeared in role—a sub ready to be dominated, pushed to new levels. Yet the glint in his eyes said otherwise. Behind them hid the emotions of a man whose muscles rippled with his strength, his mind awash with asserting control, and a need to command so great it almost overtook him. He’d told me that once, that if I weren’t there to curb his tendencies, he might go out of his mind with trying to hold everything in.

  To be normal.

  “It’s time to go,” I said.

  He lifted the chain then handed the end to me. This was where the magic happened, the sanction between us burgeoning, growing stronger than it was in our day-to-day life. This was where we fully acknowledged that lines were drawn and must never be crossed unless consent was given wholeheartedly. Where I agreed to do whatever he ordered, obeying so that it seemed he hadn’t demanded anything at all. A strange set-up to an observer, should they realize what we were really about.

  “Why,” they might say, “can’t you just trail around after him while he openly commands you? Why does it have to be like this?”

  Why not?

  The chain was cold on my palm, and I gave him one last, appraising look before opening my mouth to begin what would hopefully be a wonderful session.

  “On your hands and knees,” I said.

  He went down, staring up at me for not only a new directive but to make it clear he expected one. A silent order, one of many we’d grown accustomed to using so our outward appearance and demeanors looked the opposite of what they were.

  “Tonight we’re going to try something new.” I tugged the chain. “Something we’ve discussed recently.” I stroked his shower-damp hair. “Do you want to know what it is, or would you prefer to wait?”

  We’d spoken of a few things, but one in particular had piqued my interest. I wanted to know how a Master would handle such a sex act yet still maintain the Master role. Would this be the one thing he couldn’t control? Would what I wanted to do to him topple him from his pedestal of security and show him that really becoming a sub wasn’t so bad after all?

  “I’ll wait, Mistress.”

  “That was the correct answer. Come along.”

  I gave the chain a sharp yank. It snapped against his shoulder and neck, a dull thud of metal on skin. If it hurt, he gave no indication. I contemplated doing it again but instead walked toward the front door. This was where my stomach always somersaulted, where our carefully hidden life could come splashing out into the open, a gush of shockingly cold water on the faces of those who might see us leaving our home this way. Although we struggled with being found out, we tested it every time, goading Fate to expose us for who we really were.

  A contrary pair, us.

  I opened the door then strode out into the hallway, deliberately not checking to see if anyone was around. No one should be on our floor unless they were visiting—and we had made it quite clear we didn’t entertain visitors on a Friday night. Dan followed and I winced, as I always did, at the pressure the wooden floor in the hallway would give on his knees compared to our soft carpet. I locked the door then went to the lift, seemingly uncaring as to whether he could keep up. It was how he wanted me to act. How he expected me to act.

  I pressed the button and waited.

  Here was where it could go terribly wrong. Once we were in the lift we had no control over if it stopped before we reached our level. Our careful monitoring of other residents’ comings and goings may well be imprinted on our minds, but it only took one person to deviate from their usual routine.

  We entered the lift. Faced the front. I selected the car park level and watched the doors close. Stared at our smudged and warped reflections in the shiny metal. The shape of a woman and her human hound. The images were indistinct but there all the same. My corset seemed to be absent, the color merging with my flesh so that I looked as naked as Dan. What would I have felt, before I’d become a Domme, seeing this visual for the first time? What would I have done, years ago, had I been waiting for a lift and the doors had opened to reveal a couple like us? I’d have scuttled away in embarrassment, probably, but it would have further fueled my curiosity about the lifestyle.

  It seemed such a long time ago that I’d met Dan. A long time ago since we’d married and set up home here. I loved him to distraction, wanted or needed no other. I looked forward to later when he made me come. Had me crying out for him to fuck me harder, take me rougher.

  My stomach muscles contracted, as did my cunt. This episode was so thrilling, yet so fear-filled, that the combination of opposing emotions left me lightheaded.

  The lift began its descent.

  Dan breathed heavily.

  One of the mechanisms whined.

  I sucked in a lungful of air.

  The car juddered.

  No. Please don’t stop…

  I battled nausea.

  The lift continued as though the judder had been a mere hiccup. Coming to a stop on our selected floor, I glanced at my watch. Mr and Mrs Stewart should already be in their home. Our being here at this hour was a risk we had to take. There was only so much time between the Stewarts’ arrival and that of Mr Gold, who was usually prompt to the second, entering the car park at eight o’clock on the dot each night.

  Unless traffic was bad. Unless he left work early. Unless…

  The lift doors slid open, erasing our reflections as though they’d never existed. I casually stepped out, heart hammering hard, Dan padding alongside me on the soft tarmac. I walked toward our car. My ears were tuned to any sound that may mean someone was down there with us.

  No purr of an engine.

  No echoic shutting of a car door.

  No tinkle of keys.

  No footsteps.

  I pressed my fob and released a sigh of relief as my car bleeped. The sound of the locks snapping open was obnoxious and serrated my nerves. I led Dan to the boot, lifted the hatch and stared down at him.

  “Get in,” I said.

  He climbed inside, resting on his back and looking out at me.

  “You love it in there, don’t you?” I asked. “Like a kidnapped man, that’s what you are.”

  “Yes, Mistress.”

  He stared at me, conveying an order I knew so well. I was to drive out of here without my raincoat on, corset in full view. I was to stare at other drivers if they stared at me, and give them a disdainful look, warning them to turn away. I w
as to take the scenic route through town, daring the fates to make someone we knew drive past us, notice my clothing, gape in shock. I was to become a nervous bundle of sexual tension by the time we reached the country road that led to Marshall Cottage.

  I nodded, slid my coat off then handed it to him. He laid it beside him. I shut the boot. Went to the driver’s side. Got in. Started the engine. Looked in the rear-view mirror while preparing to reverse.

  And caught sight of Mr Gold stalking toward my car.

  Oh, God. Oh, Jesus Christ, no… Has he been watching? Did he see Dan?

  I plastered on a smile and pressed the button for my window to slide down. He came to stand beside the door, blinked a few times at the sight of my corset, at my breasts spilling out of the top, then lowered his gaze to my legs. I could only be thankful Dan was in the boot, out of the way. Mr Gold wasn’t the kind of man I wanted to spend any time with. Slim, weasel-like and in his fifties, with greying hair and a huge walrus mustache, he exuded something that made me uncomfortable.

  “Good evening, Mr Gold.” I smiled again as though my clothing wasn’t anything to warrant such a shocked yet pleased gawk.

  “Um, good evening. I err, I…” He shifted his gaze back to my face. “Fancy dress party, I take it?”

  “So lovely that you guessed!” I smiled. “Why I’d be out in such a racy thing otherwise…well, I wouldn’t, would I? Of course I wouldn’t. Yes, fancy dress party. Bunny girl. I have a fluffy tail on too. My ears are around here somewhere…” I smiled harder, looking for my ears that didn’t exist. I turned back to him. “Can I help you?”

  “Your back light’s out. Passenger side. Thought it best you knew.” He laced his hands over his flat belly and rocked back and forth, nodding, grinning the grin of the self-satisfied.

  “Oh, bugger.” I bit my bottom lip, wondering what the hell I ought to do next.

  “Bugger indeed.” He peered into the car, seeming to zero in on my cunt.

  My naked cunt.

  Oh, dear God, I’d forgotten about that…

  He cleared his throat. “Would you like me to check it for you? Save you getting out when you’re, you know, without your… Shall I see if I can fix it?”

  I felt sick. “Oh, no no. That’s fine. I’m more than capable.”

  I shut off the engine and prepared myself to exit knowing I was going to expose my pussy. There wasn’t much else I could do bar waiting for him to leave, and it didn’t seem as if he were about to go away anytime soon. I took a deep breath then got out of the car.

  “Pardon the state of me,” I said. “This fancy dress—I’m supposed to be truly authentic. You know, showing myself off like this.” I wafted my hands down below. “I’m terribly sorry. Please feel free to look away.” I strode past Mr Gold, conscious that he might be ogling my bare arse, and pretended I wore jeans and a T-shirt. I paused at the boot, cocking a hip so one of my thighs partly obscured my pubic hair. “Was there anything else?”

  He looked me up and down. “You’ve lost your tail. And there’s nothing to pin it to. Just skin.” His cheeks reddened and he licked his lips. His tongue was like a slug coming out from under a pruned bush.

  I felt my arse. “So I have. Not to worry, the ears will give away what I am.” My actual ears were burning. I imagined Dan listening, his heart tickering ultra-fast, him silently telling me to get rid of Mr Gold. “Off you go then, no need to hang about. I’ll be quite all right, and thanks for making me aware. You know, about the light. And the tail.”

  He gave me one more up-and-down rake with his gaze, blushed harder, then turned, heading inside to the lift.

  I opened the boot a smidge. Whispered, “Oh, God. Dan?”

  “I’ve fixed it, Mistress,” he said. “And your cunt and arse… He saw them?”

  “I’m afraid so.”

  “How did it feel, Mistress?”

  “Not as mortifying as I thought it would. Although I don’t ever want to see him again. He’s a little old pervert.”

  I blew him a kiss, shut the boot again then got back in the car. That had been a super close call, and my heart didn’t need another episode like this one tonight. I reversed, bolted out of the car park, then drove through town without observing whether anyone noticed what I was wearing. I was sure my Master would forgive me for that. Mr Gold more than made up for the thrill other drivers would give us.

  At last I pulled onto the country road, relieved to be safe. “What did you think of that?” I shouted.

  Dan knocked twice. Good. He thought that was good.

  “Bit close for comfort, though!” I yelled. “Still, the time had to come when someone spotted us, didn’t it?”

  He knocked once. Yes, yes it did.

  A surge of adrenaline rushed through me. My God, if Mr Gold hadn’t mentioned the fancy dress party, I didn’t know what excuse I would have given. And to think I might bump into him again after that, knowing he’d basically seen me in a way he never usually would… I shuddered.

  “He’s a pervert!” I shouted. “A raging bloody pervert!”

  One knock.

  “How do you feel about him ogling me? Because he did. Head to toe!”

  Three knocks. Dan didn’t like it. I smiled. Contemplated teasing him some more then decided against it.

  “We’re nearly there. I can see Marshall Cottage. Not long now.”

  Two more minutes saw me screeching the car up the drive then coming to a stop that scattered the gravel in all directions. I shut off the engine, got out and took a moment to compose myself. After taking a deep breath, I helped Dan out of the boot. He immediately went on all fours, sucking in a deep breath as the small stones dug into his skin.

  “This way,” I said, speeding across the drive toward the mansion.

  The quicker we got inside, the better. I’d feel safe then. Dan had said he enjoyed the bite of the gravel, so the fast trip across it would rev up his desire. That thought had my libido going haywire.

  At the door, I smiled and told my pattering heart to go back to normal. “Good evening, Mr M.”

  “Good evening, Mistress.”

  I sauntered inside, Dan trailing behind me, and headed for the stairs. The grandfather clock in its transparent casing ticked along with my footsteps.

  What I had in mind needed privacy. It was a first time thing for us, so no voyeur room to begin with tonight, and I wanted to make sure Dan liked what I was about to dish out before anyone else witnessed it.

  Like Dan had said, “It isn’t everyone’s cup of Earl Grey, darling.”

  Chapter Three

  Once at a private room, I left Dan on his haunches in the middle of the tiled floor and locked the door. Unlocked or ajar meant anyone could either enter or stand in the doorway and watch. The fact there was a camera monitoring our every move wasn’t a concern. I’d rather that and be safe than not. Mr M had catered to everything, our safety his prime objective.

  I turned and stared at Dan. “Face the foot of the bed. I don’t want you seeing what I’m doing.”

  This was different. He usually faced me at all times, me watching his eyes for commands. If we were to do this properly, he needed to retain a soft cock. At least at first. He shuffled around and presented me with his arse. I eyed it, encased as it was in the PVC, and took a moment to step forward then kneel and caress it.

  “Such a beautiful arse,” I murmured, smoothing my hands over the swells. I reached down to fondle his balls through the material. My fingertips brushed the base of his cock—his hard cock. “I shouldn’t have done that.” I got up swiftly. “Think of something to get rid of that hard-on.”

  What I’d said would give him some idea as to what I wanted to do, but there wasn’t anything I could do about that now. Perhaps having him turned away from me wasn’t such a good idea at all. Perhaps I never was meant to be a Domme. A professional would know when not to touch. Of course he would become erect as soon as I handled him—wasn’t that normally the whole point?

  Cursing m
yself, I went over to the drawers that stood beside the door and pulled one of them out. I flicked a few things aside, looking for what I needed and coming up empty. A search through one of the others resulted in me wallowing in disappointment. Ready to give up. I couldn’t do what I’d planned. I should have brought a toy with us.

  Think. Do what Dan would suggest and improvise.

  I slid open the third drawer down, remembering what I’d spied in there. I reached in to pull out a peach-colored rubber cock ring with a mini, balloon-like clitoral stimulator attached. But what could I use as a yanker? The balloon wasn’t big enough for me to get a proper grip, and by the look of it, it wouldn’t stretch. I ferreted through the toys again, pulling out a pair of rounded black laces sealed in a packet. I smiled.

  Placing the cock ring on top of the drawers, I tied one end of a lace around the base of the clitoral stimulator. The lace was long—long enough to do what I had in mind, and if it hadn’t been I’d have tied the two together.

  “Is your cock soft?” I asked, taking the ring and lace with me, standing behind Dan and staring down at his arse. The overhead light bounced off the shiny material of his tight shorts. “If it is, get those boxers off. You may stand to do so but don’t turn around.”

  He obeyed, tossing the boxers onto the bed.

  “Now get back down on the floor. Same position.”

  He knelt.

  “Part your legs as wide as they’ll go.”

  Dan did.

  “Good. Now, keep still.”

  I went down on my knees and tilted my head to scrutinize his cock. It hung limp, so I reached out and quickly slid the cock ring onto his length. With it sitting snug against his body, the little balloon between his dick and bollocks, I curled my hand around him. Gave him a few short, sharp strokes that had his erection springing to life.

  “That’s it,” I said. “Just what I like to see and feel.”