For The Sub (Mastered)

by Cartwright, Sierra

  “Thank you. You didn’t need to bring anything. You’re the chef, not a guest,” she teased.

  “I was hoping this would work as a bribe,” he said. “Maybe someone else can cook while I eat those desserts you mentioned.”

  “No chance, Master Niles. This afternoon, you’re all mine to command.”

  She kept a straight face for all of three seconds before grinning. They both knew he was a Dom and wouldn’t relinquish that role. Still, her easy banter made it easy to relax, and he was glad he’d come.

  “Shall I uncork it for you, Sir?”

  “I’ll do the honours, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course, Sir. Thank you.”

  She stepped aside so he could enter the kitchen. Since the tiling on the floor was worn, he presumed her friends and family all used this same door, and that added to the welcoming feel.

  Now that he was inside with the door closed, the dogs bounded over. One was a massive brindle the size of a pony and had a pink bandana around her neck. The other was an overweight, black, snarling Dachshund.

  “I would have warned you about my menagerie,” she said, “but I didn’t want to scare you off.” She waved her hand, about waist level and both canines quieted. “That’s MW,” she said, pointing at the smaller dog.

  “MW?”

  “Meanie Wienie.”

  He laughed.

  “I don’t want to give him a complex, so I just call him MW.” Brandy placed the bottle of wine on the counter and retrieved a waiter’s corkscrew from a drawer that contained several hundred gadgets he’d never seen before.

  “Since it’s not summer, it’s not a big concern, but he has an, uhm…”

  Niles waited.

  “Foot fetish, of sorts. He bites big toes. Not ankles. Not feet. Just toes, big ones.”

  “Rescue dog?” he asked.

  “How did you guess?” she replied with a wry twist to her mouth as she placed the corkscrew next to the bottle. “They’re one of my weaknesses.”

  That she collected unwanted animals didn’t surprise him. He suspected her heart had melted in a similar fashion at the Den when she’d caught sight of him sitting outside by himself. “Do you do it with humans, too?”

  “Not anymore.”

  “Meaning you used to.”

  “Not much to tell,” she said. “But you’re right. I’ve spent a lot of time trying to break myself of that habit. Animals are far easier to deal with than people. They’re more honest. Anyway, the Great Dane is named Dana.” She shrugged.

  “Original.”

  “A little girl chose it.”

  “I didn’t know there were brindled Great Danes.”

  “I didn’t either until the rescue service brought her to me.”

  “They’re very nice dogs,” he said.

  Both animals, as if on cue, sat and offered their paws to be shaken.

  “I try to teach them some manners. Success is measured in varying degrees.”

  Niles shook Dana’s paw first, then he crouched to accept MW’s. The animal promptly dropped to the floor, rolled to his back and offered his belly to be rubbed. “He likes attention.”

  “He’d get more of it if he didn’t bite toes.”

  “He seems fine to me.” After playing with the dogs, he stood to rinse his hands. Bowls and cutlery had to be moved aside, and she made no apology for her mess. The kitchen cabinets were painted white and complemented by dark blue laminate counters. Knick-knacks adorned the shelf beneath the window. An old-fashioned stove, oversized refrigerator and a battered dishwasher made the place feel homey, lived in. It was quite a contrast to his enormous space that was filled with stark granite, steel, strategic decorator lighting and brushed satin nickel fixtures. He might have felt as if he were out of his element, but that was impossible with how easy she behaved.

  She moved in next to him and offered him a towel to dry his hands.

  With the newcomer sniffed and welcomed, the dogs wandered over to their beds and curled up.

  “Now that they’re settled, may I offer you a beer? A bottled water? A glass of the wine you brought?”

  “Wine.”

  “For me, too, if you’re okay with sharing?”

  “I was hoping you’d join me.” He put down the hand towel then uncorked the bottle.

  She removed two wine glasses from a cupboard, and he accepted them from her.

  “We’ll let it breathe for a minute,” he said. “And in the meantime, you can greet me properly.”

  Brandy sucked in a breath and looked up at him. “Honestly, Sir, I’ve wanted to kiss you since you walked through the door.”

  There was that raw honesty he appreciated so much. He was glad he’d come.

  She sank to her knees in the middle of the kitchen.

  Everything about this woman turned him on. She still wore the short skirt that showed the curve of her hips. While he liked the sight of a woman’s bare legs, he had to admit the boots and tights were doing it for him. Getting her naked later would be even more rewarding. The sweater clung to her breasts and hid her gorgeous nipples. Despite the fact they weren’t at the Den and this could be considered outside the bounds of normal behaviour—after all, they hadn’t discussed how she would treat him—she hadn’t hesitated before kneeling. “How long do we have until the rest of your company arrives?”

  “At least half an hour, Sir.”

  He offered his hand and pulled her up before removing the band that secured her hair. The long waterfall of blonde fell past her shoulders in a gentle wave. “I meant it when I said I want to restrain you that way sometime.”

  “Since you mentioned it, Sir, I’ve fantasised about it.”

  “Then I’ll have to make sure it becomes a reality.”

  “Thank you.”

  He captured the hem of her sweater and pulled it up over her head.

  “Pale blue?” he asked, seeing her bra.

  “I figured you would expect me to go for black or red. So I wanted to surprise you.”

  “You succeeded.” Again and again. This sub—woman—intrigued him. Her spontaneity kept him guessing.

  He’d wanted to be sure—that night at the Den—that she hadn’t offered to scene because of a misplaced sense of obligation.

  At the grocery store, she could have pretended not to notice him. Instead, she’d approached him and made up an excuse that compelled him to attend her party. Over the last few years, he’d had models and actresses drop suggestive hints about hooking up, but the fact Brandy had only asked him to attend as a friend had snagged his attention and reeled him in.

  “Since you didn’t give me any instructions, I went with lady’s choice.”

  “Well done,” he assured her. “The colour works.” The gentle pastel complemented her porcelain skin. He’d never have known he liked anything other than bold or bright.

  “You might want to put the sweater on the counter or the table, Sir,” she suggested. “Otherwise, MW will think it’s his new blanket.”

  “I’ve never had to consider pets when I took off a woman’s clothes.”

  “Is that a problem?” She drew her eyebrows together.

  “Relax, gorgeous sub.” He ran his thumb across her forehead. “I have no issue with your four-legged friends.”

  “Good. Because you haven’t met them all yet.”

  “There’s more?”

  “More of everything for you, Sir.”

  “Then let’s get on with it.” He reached around and unfastened the clasp of her bra.

  She shrugged from the straps, and her luscious breasts spilled into his palms. His cock hardened right away. He should have masturbated a second time before leaving his cabin.

  “Thank you,” she murmured as he lightly squeezed.

  “They need to be marked.”

  “God, yes, they do, Sir.”

  It seemed her passionate intensity matched his. Even though she was distracted, she somehow managed to deposit the brassiere right on top of
her sweater.

  He fondled her nipples until they beaded then he pinched them hard.

  “You’re making me wet, Sir.”

  “Good.” He hitched up her skirt and placed one of his legs between hers. He dragged her closer and held her tight. “Hump my thigh like the horny, greedy woman you are.”

  She looked up at him. Her eyes darkened to the colour of a still, deep mountain lake. Without a word, she leaned into him, wrapping her arms around his neck before manoeuvring her pelvis so that her clit would be stimulated, even through their layers of clothing.

  He supported her weight as she began a slow, rhythmic rocking motion. Niles cradled the back of her head then dug his fingers into her hair. He’d effectively imprisoned her, and he never wanted to let go.

  “Oh, oh, Sir.”

  “I want your orgasm, Brandy. Give it to me.”

  Her breath felt warm on his chest. She moved faster and faster. Having her in his arms seemed inevitable. Despite the difference in their sizes, the fit was perfect. “That’s it,” he told her. Then he moved one hand lower and brutally slapped her ass.

  She screamed. It wasn’t from the pain, he knew, but from the force of her climax. Her body went limp, and he brought her against his chest while she caught her breath.

  “That… Thank you, Sir.” She looked up at him. “I had no idea you’d let me do that.”

  “Me either.”

  “Honestly?”

  “I’ve spent plenty of time thinking about doing you.” Even though he shouldn’t have. If he hadn’t been warned off by Damien, Niles would have gone back to the Den to seek her out.

  Brandy swallowed.

  By slow measures, he released the tight grip he had on her hair. “But when you opened that door, I couldn’t be a gentleman and wait until later. And I couldn’t torture you, even though I’m being tormented.” Her body was designed for explosive sex. “I’d prefer to have an entire afternoon to play with you, but having you ride my leg will have to do.”

  “Thank you for the orgasm, Sir. I might have snuck off to the restroom, otherwise.” She lifted herself onto her tiptoes, leaning against him more. With her lips parted, she reached her hand around his neck and drew his head down a bit.

  He never allowed subs this much liberty, yet he was helpless to resist her.

  Brandy pressed her lips to his. Then, with boldness he should have expected, worked her tongue into his mouth, seeking and searching, learning.

  He loved the enchanting way she led, the taste of her, that of sensuality and longing. Before long, his natural personality asserted itself and he took over. He pulled her head back and forced her mouth open wider.

  In surrender she moaned.

  He plundered, loving having her heated body against his. He all but fucked her mouth with his tongue in an unspoken promise of what would happen later.

  “Damn, Sir,” she said when he set her away from him.

  “Beware,” he warned her.

  “Sir?”

  “You may want to keep a safe distance from me during your party.”

  “Can’t keep your hands to yourself, Sir? I would have thought you had more self-control.”

  “If you’d like to continue with the sass, you’ll find yourself over my lap with your derrière upturned, regardless of whether we’re alone or with company.”

  “Bring it on, Sir. I’m not afraid of your little spankings.”

  This woman was so unlike other women—submissive or not—that he’d been with. She knew how to behave and responded with perfection to every command. But she lacked the artifice that he’d become accustomed to. A lot of women he’d been with played subtle games with flirtation, pulling back when he showed an interest. Brandy let him knew what she wanted and she took the initiative to get it.

  Never one to make idle threats, or indulge a disrespectful wench, he reached for a kitchen chair. Her eyes widened.

  He didn’t say a word as he sat and dragged her across his knee.

  She laughed in apparent delight. The dogs jumped up and barked as if they wanted to join the fun. She commanded them into silence, and they both lay back down.

  Niles trapped her legs between his and pulled her skirt up to her waist. Mindless of whether he caused a run in her tights or not, he pulled those down to mid-thigh level. He yanked her thong tight between her buttocks. Christ. Her ass was even more round and delectable than he remembered. In this position, with her light blue underwear separating her ass cheeks and dark tights framing her legs, her body seemed even more inviting.

  He almost succumbed to the temptation of rubbing her skin and bringing her off again. Forcing himself to focus on his intention, he brought his hand down hard on her creamy flesh, creating an instant, harsh slash of red. “Still laughing?”

  “No, Sir.” Her voice had changed. Mirth had vanished, as if she had sudden clarity of the grievousness of her behaviour.

  Niles delivered half a dozen blistering strokes, continuing until she gasped. He knew she wouldn’t cry or beg him to stop, and he heard her drag in some big gulps of air to help her settle into her spanking. Her tits bounced free, keeping him aroused. Damn, what she did to him…

  Before she could get comfortable, he stopped then jostled her from his legs while grabbing her around the waist to help her to her feet. “Stand there,” he instructed.

  As he expected, she followed orders, contrite, eyes downcast, arms behind her back. The position pushed out her breasts, as if in offering. She made no attempt to rub her buttocks or right her clothing even though the tights had to be constricting her circulation.

  For a full minute, he sat and observed her. How the hell had she started to matter to him so quickly? He’d had no intention of doing anything other than hanging out this evening as an invited guest.

  But sparks were inevitable. She was like flame to his kindling. He’d had no idea how much he’d missed having a subbie around, the rightness, the interaction. They each needed what the offer offered. “Well?” he asked when he’d given her time to think.

  “Thank you for the spanking. That should teach me to hold my tongue and not laugh when you initiate a punishment, shouldn’t it, Sir?”

  “Will it?” Niles stood and caught her chin. Without him having to instruct her, she met his gaze.

  “Yes. I’d much rather have an erotic spanking,” she admitted.

  “I’m happy to indulge your taste for that.”

  “I misjudged the situation, Sir. On second thought, I realise that what I said could be considered rude, and that was never my intent. I apologise, Master Niles.”

  “Apology accepted. You may straighten your clothes.” He watched as she wriggled and tugged on her tights then smoothed the back of her skirt into place.

  He handed the sweater to her. “Do you have any objection to going braless?”

  “My breasts are a bit on the large size, Sir, so I almost always have one on unless I’m at the Den. But if it’s your pleasure, Sir, I’m happy to do as you wish.”

  “Then skip it. I want to see your nipples all night and imagine them in my mouth, in my clamps.”

  “Yes, Sir.” She pulled the sweater over her head.

  He untucked her hair from her collar. “How does your ass feel?”

  “Sore. You’ve made your point. I will be more respectful.”

  “Are you ready for that glass of wine?” He splashed a small amount into one glass. After swirling the rich, red liquid around the bottom of the glass, inhaling the scent then sipping to confirm its taste on his palate, he poured them each a glass.

  “It’s more full-bodied than I anticipated,” she said, making a funny little sound with her mouth.

  “I like more than my wine that way.”

  For a moment, they were both silent. “Lucky for me. Shall I give a quick tour of the place? There’s not much to see.”

  Before leading the way to the large living room, she snatched up the discarded bra. “I think this was a combination dining room and
living room, but a wall was knocked down between them. Since I have an eat-in kitchen, I prefer to keep this as a great room, of sorts.”

  A large television was mounted on a wall, and she’d turned on the gas fireplace. In addition to the overstuffed couch, she’d set up a number of chairs and trays.

  “What’s in the aquarium?”

  “Lizards. Zig and Zag. They’re leopard geckos.”

  “Let me guess, someone else named them.”

  “Umm, no. That bit of creative genius was mine,” she said, and blushed in a way he found endearing.

  “I’m sure it suits them.”

  “Sir is being kind.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “I am. Trying to be a good guest.”

  Brandy laughed before leading the way to her office. She propped a shoulder against the doorjamb and took a sip of her wine. This room surprised him. Her work space was uncluttered. A notebook computer sat on a glass desk. A couple of manila file folders were scattered near it, but other than a cup containing pens and pencils, nothing else adorned the surface. Her chair faced a window that had a soothing view of pine trees and distant mountains. “This is why you live up here.”

  “It is,” she agreed. “I see deer and elk most times of the year. I could make more money other places”—she took another sip—“but I wouldn’t have this kind of view. It’s funny. I used to complain about the snow and icy roads when I lived in Denver. Even though the weather is harsher up here, I enjoy it now. It’s peaceful.”

  The handwriting on the tab of a file folder caught his eye. DNM.com. His company. “What’s this?”

  “Something you weren’t supposed to see yet,” she said.

  Her cheeks were so red they almost matched the colour of her wine. “Mind if I have a look?” he asked.

  “Not at all.”

  While he flipped open the cover, she paced.

  He found copies of each page of his website. Next he found pieces of paper with hand-drawn designs on them. The basic message was the same, but the look was more modern, fresh. Even his logo had been tweaked.

  “Call me nosy. I was curious about you,” she said, stopping next to the window, close enough that they could look at each other, but not close enough for him to touch her. “So I looked you up online.”