Masters of the Castle: Witness Protection Program

by Maren Smith

  The sounds of a coffee cup being set down on the counter met her ears before his footsteps coming toward her. “Well, we could do a bit more exploring,” Chris said, taking her hand and pulling her to a seat on the couch. “I know you didn’t get to see, sorry, um explore as much of the Castle as you wanted.”

  “I’m not easily offended, you know?” She cocked her eyebrow at him. “You can use the word see without hurting my feelings. Besides—” she grinned, “—just because I don’t use my eyes the same way you do, doesn’t mean I cannot see the world around me. I just visualize it differently using my other senses. But for me, it’s still seeing. And you shouldn’t have to tiptoe around my feelings like I’m damaged.”

  He laughed. “I just nodded and realized you couldn’t see it.”

  “Do it again.”

  She leaned forward, inhaling the freshly washed scent of his T-shirt as she raised her hand. When she came in contact with his cheek, she ran her palm up over his scraggly five o’clock shadow, then back down. She liked how one direction was rougher than the other. Like velvet. Up felt scratchy and rough along her fingertips. Down was like the soft hairs on her neighbor’s cat, Mr. Flufflewiggles. She held her palm in place as he nodded. Scritchy and smooth feelings made her senses come alive.

  Her fingers crept over to his lips, stroking the outline. Firm, full, smooth, the kind of lips she would love to feel against her own. She inhaled. Berries, chocolate, something else she couldn’t quite put her finger on. It was sweet, but not overpowering. And it was calling to her. Just one taste of the man in front of her. She licked her lips, pursing them.

  Chris groaned and pulled her to him, his hard, chiseled body holding her shoulders as his mouth took hers. No, he didn’t just take. He claimed. His mouth ravished every part of her lips, his tongue darting around to explore every bit of her mouth, and she returned the kiss with equal fervor. The way he tasted was exquisite. Strawberries, whipped cream, cinnamon, that was it, chocolate all colliding within her, creating a need she had never felt before. Their kiss increased in intensity, and she knew if they continued, they would fall on that couch, her robe would be ripped from her shoulders, and he would consume her body just as he was consuming her mouth.

  With a low groan, he pulled away from her. Her mouth felt puffy and wet from his kisses, and she sagged to the back of the couch. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have done that.”

  “Shouldn’t have done what? Kissed me? Building on the level of intimacy we are portraying for the rest of the Castle?” She was confused by his reaction.

  He sat next to her, his upper body rigid. “Yeah, well, that’s just it. It’s just pretend. I don’t want to cross any lines or make you think there’s something more than just…” His chest lifted next to her with a long breath.

  “Paid protection,” she finished. “Yeah, I get it.” Pasting a smile on her face, she pretended his words had not felt like a glass of ice water thrown at her. “We’re just pretending for my safety, and it’s your job. So, there’s no reason to fake it while behind closed doors.”

  “I wasn’t—”

  “I’m going to get dressed,” she interrupted him, standing up. “I’d like to get out and walk around the grounds a bit before I go stir-crazy.”

  “Okay.” She listened to the graze of his jeans as he stood up also. “What time do you want to head out?”

  She ran her fingers across her watch. “Ten a.m. okay?”

  “Sounds good. You’re going to have to take the watch off, princess.”

  “Why? It’s a present from Marshall. I’ve had it most of my life. Well, since the accident. No one can see the braille on it.”

  “But you can. You said before you see things in your own way.” His palm slowly worked its way down her cheek, her neck. She shivered when he continued soft touches down her shoulders, arms, down to her wrist, circling twice before grasping her hand. “If anyone sees you stroking your watch, it gives them just one more thing to notice about you. Plus, there’s the whole no modern conveniences allowed outside a guest’s personal room rule.”

  “You’re right, I wasn’t thinking clearly. I’d blame it on lack of sleep or coffee, but I’ve had both the best sleep ever and two cups of amazing French roast.”

  “You can blame it on me kissing you if you want.” She heard the grin in his voice. It was cute. She could almost picture the right side of his mouth curving up and his eyes alight with humor.

  “May I feel your smile?”

  “Anything for you, princess.”

  She could have stayed like that forever. Her palm resting on his cheek as the muscles in it rose up and down, creating soft wrinkles below his eye. “You have a dimple.”

  “Yeah, I hate it.”

  “I love it. It helps me see you better.”

  “All right, for the rest of our time together, you have my permission to see all my emotions. Just make sure we’re not in public when you do it, okay?”

  She nodded.

  “So we should set a rule about nodding, too.” Chris’ face eased back into its normal ‘at work’ expression. “I know you won’t be able to see me nodding, so I will use words with you only.”

  “Okay.”

  “I’d like you to do the same.”

  “But you can see me.” She wrinkled her brow as she dropped her hand to her side.

  “Yeah, but it’s something we do here. Full communication. Verbal, nonverbal, physical. I need to be able to read every part of you and what you are saying and not saying while you’re here. It could save your life.”

  “So it has nothing to do with dominance and submission?” she asked.

  His low chuckle preceded him taking her hand into his. “It totally has to do with that also. Just because I haven’t officially scened in a while doesn’t mean I don’t have certain expectations I want met. If you want to try out something while you’re here, just let me know.”

  She had mentioned her desire to explore the scene a bit when she’d been ranting at Stephen earlier, but hadn’t thought anyone had really been listening. “I do want to check it out a bit then maybe try some… things.”

  “In that case, let’s go get that contract from Marshall and make sure we get everything in order.” He lifted her arm toward him. “But first.” His fingers wrapped around her wrist gently but firmly. “Do I have permission to remove Marshall’s gift?”

  She nodded, but a firm tap against the edge of her wrist reminded her. Oh yeah, speak out loud. “Yes, you may.”

  His fingers were gentle, almost caressing her, as he pulled the strap from the buckle and peeled it off her. Then his warm breath found the pulse point before his lips closed in on the spot her watch had been for so many years. The kiss didn’t linger, but it was enough to shoot a jolt of energy straight to her core. When he released her, she fought the groan within her chest. Two of the best kisses in her entire life, and both given by a man who only wanted to protect her.

  She was just his job. Nothing more.

  Chris

  Chris set the braille watch on the end table then changed his mind and tucked it in his pocket. If any staff member came in and spotted it, lifted it to dust, maybe, they’d wonder what it was. Despite their well-known reputation for discretion, they wouldn’t think of it as a big secret, might mention to someone else the ‘funny’ watch they’d run across, leading to Grace’s exposure as a blind woman.

  “Why don’t you go get dressed, and we’ll head for Marshall’s office, get that contract. You’re stuck here with us for the time being, and there will never be a better time to experiment with the lifestyle if you’d like to.”

  “My life has certainly taken an odd turn.” She shook her head slowly. “In some ways for the better.”

  “Better, how?” he asked, knowing what he hoped she’d say.

  “I feel like I’ve been given the key to learning more about myself, trying out things I’ve only fantasized about before.”

  “The Castle is special that way,” h
e replied, disappointed where he shouldn’t be. Why would Grace think meeting him was important to her?

  But she surprised him by pressing a quick peck on his ear and whispering, “And I would like to hand that key to you, the perfect Dom to help me unlock all the most secret parts of myself.” Nipping his lobe, she gave a tug that shot straight to his groin, hardening his dick. Then she headed for the bedroom, humming a happy little tune.

  He and his blue balls were alone in the luxurious living room of the suite, listening to her bang around in the bedroom, getting ready for the day. Another two seconds and he’d have had her on her back, the robe open to reveal the treasures beneath. Long slow breaths, techniques he’d managed after the therapists gave up on him, were no help in this situation. His dick had a mind of its own where his princess was concerned.

  Keeping her true identity secret was job one. Okay, keeping her alive and well was job one. But preventing others from learning of her difference would make that much easier. They’d blindfolded some others so she wouldn’t stand out, but the few he’d seen after dinner the night before had stumbled around like, well, like they couldn’t see, clinging to the arms of their assigned companions—sometimes their Doms, others merely a staff member or friend—and giggling. ‘Ella’ was good at moving through even an unfamiliar space, her fingers resting lightly on his wrist for guidance.

  She didn’t lift her feet as high as most people, he noticed, as if keeping contact with the floor helped her to anticipate her next move. But he’d only become aware of that by studying her at length. Perhaps she should be a little slower, less ‘good’ at being blindfolded.

  As she returned to the living room, wearing a short black twist on a Roman dress and sandals, she moved with the confidence she’d gained after studying the room in a tactile way the night before. Pausing in front of him, she twirled. “Is this okay for exploring the Castle?”

  Nothing about the outfit was remotely okay. Not while there would be so many other men to admire her. But if he sent her back for a loose sweatshirt and baggy pants, which would never happen, she’d attract tons of attention. Attention for wearing civilian clothes in an environment where all the others put so much thought into their appearance.

  “Chris? You’re there, right? I can hear you breathing. Is it that bad?”

  “You look beautiful, princess.” Because she did. “Everyone will be jealous that I’m at your side.”

  She gave a small smile, smoothing the skirt with her palms. “It’s kind of you to say that, but you don’t have to try to make me feel good.”

  Chris reached out and grabbed her wrist, pulling her closer to him. “Are you saying I might be less than honest with you?”

  “What?” She tugged back then stopped. “Of course not. Only that you might be being nice. I’d never—”

  “Because if you did, I might have to put you over my knee before we do anything else.”

  “Can you do that without the official paperwork?”

  “If you consent.” He slid his hand up her arm and back down in the lightest of sensual touches. “But since it was just a misunderstanding, let’s get going.” Rising, he turned her to face the door and gave her a friendly pat on the bottom.

  She took a couple of steps forward then stopped. “What if I just wanted to know what it’s like? Would you spank me then?”

  “For no reason?”

  “For my edification. And to satisfy my curiosity.”

  Chris considered her request. He certainly wouldn’t mind flipping that skirt up and leaving some handprints on her sweet bottom, but… “Oh, what the hell.” In less time than it took Grace to whoosh out a breath, he had her over his lap, head dangling down. “Far be it from me to deny a princess her request, but a spanking is serious business. Since you plan to fill out the contract to enable us to play safely anyway, I think I can be convinced to give you at least a brief taste of what a spanking at my hands will feel like. If you’re sure. Because I’ve been told I have a hard hand.”

  Grace braced herself on her hands and lifted her head. “What if it’s too much for me? What if I want you to stop?”

  “All these things are covered in the contract, and you will have the opportunity to choose your own safeword, but for now, if you want things to slow down, just say the word yellow. We’ll pause and figure out what’s wrong. If you want everything to stop completely, you say red.”

  “Do I have to say green to make things start?” she quipped. “Ouch.”

  He rubbed out the spot he’d just smacked. “Does that answer your question?”

  “Y-yes. Sorry I was a little smart alecky.”

  Chris flipped her short skirt up. “You’ll learn.” He took a moment to admire the silky black boy-cut panties before raising his palm and letting it fall again. She gasped but didn’t shout any colors or otherwise protest. The satin felt cool as he raised the temperature of the skin underneath with a quick flurry of spanks on one buttock then the other, spreading his edification over her curvy bottom. Soon, she writhed on his thighs, a low moan emerging from her throat.

  The woman loved being spanked. And he loved spanking. A match made in heaven. Pausing, he grasped the waistband of her panties. “These are in the way, princess.” And he dragged them down her legs, letting them fall to her feet.

  Looking down on the squirming bundle of woman on his lap, he knew he’d made a mistake. Her bottom was pale and luminous, the skin almost glowing around the reddened prints left behind by his first few swats. But he wanted more, to leave a mark that would be under her dress as she moved through the Castle. To leave a sting she’d be aware of.

  He lifted his hand high and brought it down, the slap of flesh-on-flesh echoing in the quiet room. His cock was hard enough to snap off, butting against her hip. Her skin was softer than the satin, and with her panties tangled at her feet, he could see the results of each spank. First pink, then as he kept going, spanking first one then the other cheek, red handprints crisscrossed one another, the blank canvas upon which he created his art.

  After he was satisfied she’d have him on her mind for at least a few hours, he turned his attention to the tops of her thighs and her sit spots, two of his favorite places to leave a memory.

  It hurt. All logic told him it did, yet Grace never safeworded. Not even yellow. She was so brave…

  As he lifted his hand to give one more smack, she let loose a sob, and he froze. He gathered her into his arms and soothed her, caressed her, told her she’d been a brave girl and that he’d pick up some cream downstairs that would make it better.

  Grace threw her arms around his neck and cried, tears soaking into his shirt. “That-that hurt!” she said, shivering.

  Chris petted her and hugged her and reminded her they’d better get downstairs before breakfast ended. He urged her to her feet and had her step out of the panties, which he stuffed into his back pocket. “As we tour the Castle, I want you to remember your spanking. Can you do that for me?”

  She nodded, sucking her lower lip in a way that made him think she’d be an adorable Little. He should call her on not using her words, but maybe not just this once.

  “No panties,” he remonstrated. “Not for the rest of your time here.”

  “What about mealtimes?”

  “Even then.” He planted a kiss on her cheek. “Now, go brush your hair and splash some cold water on your face. When you come back, I’ll tie on your blindfold, okay?”

  “Yes.”

  A half hour later, she’d signed their contract, listing what she’d love to try, was ambivalent about trying, and did not want to try. Marshall kept looking from one to the other but didn’t ask any questions. Not then.

  Chapter 4

  Grace

  Her legs were rubbing against… there. The area still dying for touch. She didn’t ever shave her intimate areas. Yes, she was as independent and capable as the next seeing person and could have, but she’d never really wanted or needed to. But now, hanging on to Chris’ arm
as he led her down another hall, her long skirt swishing as she walked, no underwear to protect against the rubbing and touching… Oh my Lord, her pubic hairs were still wet from that spanking he had given her, and the wetness now coated her inner thighs. But that wasn’t all. It was like the air caressed her most intimate parts, adding more desire to her ready to get hot and heavy nether regions. That spanking was amazing. The way his firm, large hands had engulfed almost her whole bottom. The heat he had produced both on her aching backside and the heat building from her tummy down to between her legs. What would Chris be like as a lover? Would he be soft and romantic? Hard and fast? A combination of both?

  They passed what sounded like a Daddy Dom spanking his little girl. The woman was close to the left side of the hall, and her moans and squeals and “No, Daddy, please!” echoed down the hall. Grace squeezed her legs together, loving the friction, heat, and wetness. This was all so intense, so wonderful, overwhelming but not in a scary way.

  “Daddeee!” the woman shrieked, and Grace heard the cries being muffled. Had he pulled her against his chest to caress her and brush away the tears?

  Daddy/little girl activity wasn’t exactly her thing yet. Then again, how could she be sure what was her thing? She had just received the first spanking of her entire life, and from what Chris said, it wasn’t even that hard. That’s why they were strolling through the Castle, Chris’ right hand firmly holding her by the back of the neck in a protective gesture, his left, holding her wrist. The contract had opened up a whole new world to her, and, as embarrassing as it was to have her cousin laying everything out for her, Grace had to appreciate the simplicity of it.

  A good Dominant would observe her reactions, utilizing all his senses. So, it wasn’t just about open verbal communication, it was also about open communication in general. Was Chris a good Dom? Marshall seemed to think so. So did Jackson, the head of security, Chris’ closest longtime friend. But Chris had warned her they would take it slow. That he needed time to learn her tells and the way her body vocalized its needs even if she didn’t say a word. It had been a while for him, he’d said while in Marshall’s office signing all the papers. And in the deepest, most panty-dropping—if she’d been wearing any—voice, told her they would be taking things slowly, but surely until they both felt comfortable.