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The Gifts of the Masters

Page 9

by Eva Gill


  Jonah,

  Bartholomew instructed me to come to you tonight, he feels that you are in need of… Well, let’s say, some fun.

  I will be at your house at seven, and I will bring everything to prepare your dinner.

  Yours in service,

  Alice

  He stared at it in disbelief and placed it back in the envelope before he sat down to boot up his PC. He had emails to check and clients to deal with. On top of that he was so tired he could barely think; he was simply grateful it was Friday. He put the envelope aside. He was tired and disappointed he wouldn’t have an early night to crash and sleep, and sat moodily reading through his emails.

  At lunch time he grabbed a sandwich from the canteen downstairs and went straight back to work. He ignored the lascivious smile Stavros cast at him on a coffee break, and ploughed through his paperwork as efficiently as he could. His MMA training started at five thirty and ended at six thirty, and when he left the office at five, Stavros stood against a nearby doorpost with his arms crossed over his chest.

  “Have a good evening MacPherson.”

  Jonah didn’t like the sarcastic tone of his voice, but maintained politeness. “And you!” he called, striding into a nearby elevator to go down to the parking garage. He frowned to himself. He’d left the card from Alice on his desk, and it had been missing after his lunch break.

  At least it had contained nothing graphic. He chided himself for the irresponsibility and swore to be more careful. It took minutes to arrive at the gym, and as he walked into the matted area after changing, Jonah stopped dead in his tracks.

  On the mat, caught in a headlock with Blaine’s thighs around her neck, was the red-haired slave from the initiation night. Jonah would recognise her hair anywhere.

  The girl struggled savagely while Jonah watched from the door, thinking his suspicions about Blaine were confirmed. He cleared his throat, and with comedic ease Blaine looked up, completely ignoring the struggling girl under him.

  “Oh hi Jonah, just give me a minute, will you?” Blaine changed his position, kissed the girl on the forehead and then released her. “Come meet Jonah, he is new to our club.”

  They approached Jonah, with her looking decidedly dishevelled in black gym gear beside Blaine, who seemed as relaxed as ever. “Jonah, this is Persephone, she is my… Well, she is mine.”

  Jonah smiled at her. “Hi again, you brought drinks to Alex and I on the night of my, you know…” He didn’t feel comfortable discussing these things in such a public space.

  “Oh yes! Hi Jonah.” Her voice had a sweet innocence to it and she inclined her head politely. Persephone turned to Blaine. “May I please go and shower, sir?”

  He dismissed her, and he and Jonah were left alone.

  “I knew it!” Jonah exclaimed the moment the girl was gone. “I was so convinced I’d seen you, but I denied it to myself.”

  Blaine merely chuckled and walked to the middle of the floor while Jonah put his bag down. They slowly started warming up, running a few sprints and easing into basic stretches. Blaine worked him through grappling and throws and left Jonah feeling beaten up. When they finished and stood with their hands on their knees, breathing hard, Jonah spoke again, a little frustrated that Blaine hadn’t said more about the club or Persephone.

  “I’d love it if you two came to dinner sometime, to hear about how you found each other? My new house is perfect for entertaining.”

  Blaine nodded. “I like that idea. Why don’t you speak to Bartholomew or Alex, or even just do some research, and host a proper high-protocol dinner, something for our kind of people to enjoy? I reckon you’ll like the idea.”

  Jonah had no idea what he meant, but would start by asking Alice later, while she cooked for him. “I will have to ask and do some research, but when I get it together I will let you know.”

  Blaine smacked him on the shoulder. “Good man, I think you are going to enjoy this journey you’ve embarked on. Not to be cheesy or anything, but it changes your life.”

  Jonah straightened up from his bent over position. “It already has.”

  It was six forty-five by the time he pulled into his drive, parked the car and sprinted to the shower. He dressed in comfortable, scuffed jeans and a light blue, button down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to just below the elbows. He spritzed on cologne and made his way downstairs. Jonah eyed the dining room; the large round table had been left behind by the owners, but he had bought the eight ornate wooden chairs that now surrounded it.

  A deep red tablecloth covered the wood, and blended beautifully with the wood-panelled walls to give the room an old feel. It looked reminiscent of the house in the Underworld movies. Plush, expensive.

  “And inhabited by vampires…” He said to himself, and walked away laughing. He had filled the wall cabinet with a white dinner set, and the crystal wine glasses his mother had given to him while he was still dating Olivia. Along with these things, he had a set of antique silverware he had found in a pawn shop for a fraction of the original cost, and placemats in a deep red colour from the home-décor shop he had found his other things at. He could host a formal dinner here, he just needed to know what was involved in a ‘high-protocol’ dinner.

  Jonah stood in the doorway when his gate buzzer rang. The sound made him jump. He pressed the button on the intercom and answered.

  “Hello?”

  The reply was quick, cheerful, and definitely Alice. “Hi Jonah! It’s me, your servant for the evening.”

  He heard her giggling as he buzzed the gate to open, then made his way to the front door to let her in. He stood waiting as a white VW Beetle pulled up to the parking area, and then went to help her carry her grocery bags.

  Alice had brought everything from salad to fresh bread, ready-made soup and even wine. She chatted as they walked back toward the door. “I thought I’d bring a light meal just in case you wanted to play, it’s not so much fun on a full stomach. And I brought a bottle of really nice white wine…”

  He lost track for a moment, nervous at the thought of play. What would he do with her? How would he…

  “Jonah? You still with me?” she piped up, touching his shoulder lightly.

  “Um, yes. Sorry, I zoned out for a moment there.” He turned to put the bags down on the counter and watched her manoeuvre with ease around the kitchen, finding pots and setting out wine glasses.

  “Where is your opener?” She held up the wine.

  He reached into a nearby drawer and handed it to her. “There we go.”

  Alice poured two glasses of wine, handed him one and looked him dead in the eye. “Jonah, Bartholomew wants me to serve you tonight. He was quite detailed, and sent you a gift which I will give to you shortly.”

  Jonah swallowed a mouthful of his chilled wine. “Can you please clarify what you mean by serve?” His voice sounded hoarse.

  She smiled. “Sure. It means I will prepare your dinner. I will do that dressed as you wish me to be, or undressed. A lot of Dom’s like nudity, it signifies trust and a willingness to be vulnerable. I will rub your feet if you desire, you can take me to your dungeon, if you want. I am your toy tonight and you can do whatever you wish, within boundaries of course. Like no slapping my face. Oh, and I am to serve your sexual needs, too, if you want. I’m just saying it out loud because I don’t think you are the kind of guy who would just assume these things.” Alice blushed when she said this.

  Jonah’s jaw dropped. “Wow. I might need a moment to get used to that idea. Why would I slap you? That’s terrible…” He sat down on a chair at the kitchen table.

  Alice shrugged. “Um, some Dominants enjoy doing that, but I have an eye problem and it can do serious damage, so, hard limit. I like you, you’re hot. And we are both single, so I don’t see any problem with us having sex. Plus, pretend I am your submissive. Practice. You will get some confidence, I swear, I can even give you pointers and if this doesn’t lead to sex, I am fine with that. No harm no foul. I am here for your pleasure tonig
ht.”

  Jonah stopped her when she turned toward the counter to start preparing dinner. “Wait, what are you wearing under your dress?” he asked. It felt indecent, but good, to ask a woman something like this.

  Alice glanced down at her black satin wrap dress and smiled. “I wore lacy undies, and they’re black, with hold-up stockings.”

  With his heart thundering in his throat Jonah made the decision to let go and see where the night went. “I want you to take off your dress for me, Alice. Keep everything else on. The shoes stay, too.”

  He folded his arms and stroked his chin as he watched her untie the dress, slip it off her shoulders and neatly fold it to hang it over a chair. She proceeded to move with the utmost grace to prepare dinner.

  “Alice, what do you know about high-protocol dinners?” Jonah followed her movements: she was not a tall girl but had the right proportional curves to look good.

  She answered with an expectant glance. “Oh! They are dinners where the slaves or submissives serve their Master’s every need. You get instructed to behave a certain way, and it’s all very posh, except the slaves are usually naked or wearing body jewellery only. Anya knows a lot more than I do, I think she and Alex do the high-protocol type stuff.”

  Jonah thought about this while his gaze lingered on her. Her bra, sheer lace, which looked frighteningly expensive, didn’t have much to it. Her nipples pressed against the minimal fabric and her breasts moved as she breathed; they were round and firm. His gaze drifted down the length of her body, to a cinched waist which blossomed into a firm-looking derriere and shapely legs. They held muscle memories of sport, Jonah guessed.

  As he sat there being entertained by her, he realised he felt physical attraction to this girl, but no desire to get to know her particularly well, questioning her about sports in school, for example. The realisation made him feel like he was being an arsehole. He wasn’t the use-and-discard sort. His desire for Anya, in contrast, was a thing of depth he wasn’t entirely sure he grasped. He wanted to know everything about that woman, down to the past Alex had hinted at.

  Jonah forcefully pulled himself back to the present, and thanked Alice as she refilled his wine and put a platter of mozzarella, fresh basil and sliced tomato in the middle of the table, returning to fetch sliced fresh bread spread with creamy butter.

  “Dig in, Mr. MacPherson. Where shall I sit to eat?”

  Jonah thought for a moment while she waited with her hands clasped in front of her.

  “Sit here, kneel next to me and I will feed you.” He pointed at the ground near his legs.

  Alice obeyed with a smile, sinking down into a kneeling position, patiently waiting. Her satin-soft lips brushed his fingers as Jonah fed her a morsel of cheese with basil, and she licked his fingers clean when tomato juice ran down them.

  “You have very nice hands, Jonah, sir,” she said softly when he held her wine glass for her to drink.

  Jonah was caught off-guard by her addressing him with the title, barely managing to keep his composure. He stroked her chin to disguise the tremble in his hand. “Thank you, Alice.”

  When the salad was gone, Alice stood in one smooth movement to clear the table and warm the creamy tomato soup she had brought. Jonah watched her move again, the muscles shifting under skin, the grace with which her limbs flowed.

  “Alice, why is there a specific way all the submissives I have seen at the club move and walk?”

  “We are taught how to move in a way which is pleasing to the eye, to walk with grace and sit, stand and kneel in specific ways. Our eventual owners and long term partners can teach us their own way, but to serve at The Realm, the more experienced women teach the new ones.” She continued stirring soup while she spoke. “It must be nice to be able to get the answers to all your questions now, as opposed to when Anya brought you the first time? I remember the feeling well myself.”

  Jonah nodded. “You have no idea. Well, I suppose you do, as you say. Sorry, I am blabbering nonsense.”

  Alice brought their bowls of soup along with more freshly sliced bread and settled at his feet again. This time Jonah handed her bowl to her. “I don’t think this would be ideal to feed you, you’d end up covered in food.”

  With a giggle she ate her dinner, both of them silent.

  They finished eating and Jonah stood after Alice had cleared the table. “Leave the dishes,” he said, when he saw her head toward the scullery.

  Alice stopped, and then she jumped on the spot. “Oh! Bartholomew sent an early Christmas present for you! Well, I call it that because it is a huge set of toys for your dungeon.” She skipped toward the bags she had carried in. “He said it was a ‘dungeon warming’ gift.”

  “I have not once ceased to be amazed by the kindness and generosity of the club toward me, a total stranger. You know they orchestrated the sale of my apartment when I wanted to buy this house?”

  He was shocked again when she answered: “I know the agent who sold it. She isn’t one of us, but she’s a good woman. And they do this for people they want, who might have a future they don’t see themselves.”

  Jonah led Alice through to his living room with her still holding the bag in her arms. He sat down in an armchair and watched as she set the bag down and naturally settled herself on the fluffy carpet.

  “I like what you’ve done with this room.” She sat looking around her. “I can’t believe they left so much furniture. This is beautiful stuff.”

  “I, for one, am not complaining.” Jonah loved the deep blue of the furnishings. The coffee table he had bought, as the owners had not left one behind. His choice was a square mahogany table, solid and strong, and now that he thought about it, the perfect height to bend a girl over and… He shook his head. “Yup, no complaints. Let’s see what’s in this bag, shall we?” He gestured toward it and Alice moved it closer for him to unpack.

  He decided to blindly reach in and pull one item out at a time, his first being a set of four adjustable leather cuffs. “Nice.”

  Alice made appreciative sounds from the floor. Jonah pulled out a neatly coiled rope, and then another.

  “Natural fibre,” Alice said, reaching out to touch it. “This is expensive stuff.”

  The texture felt rough against Jonah’s hands. “Doesn’t this hurt your skin?” He fondled the rope.

  Alice shook her head. “Nope.”

  With a shrug Jonah reached in again, lifting out a big, rectangular black box.

  At this, Alice squeaked, “Oh my God. He gave you a wand!”

  Jonah recognised the vibrator Alex had used on Anya and smiled. “So, this is good, then?” He raised an eyebrow at her.

  Alice squirmed before she nodded excitedly. “The best! Oh! This one is cordless and rechargeable!”

  Jonah placed it next to the chair and again reached into the bag. A very normal pack of condoms. “Safety first.” He chuckled.

  There was a hairbrush, which he smiled at, and a length of silk, which Alice cleared up for him when he frowned. “Blindfold,” she said.

  When he pulled out the final item Alice wrapped her arms swiftly around her torso, covering her breasts. “Just for the record, Jonah, those don’t come near me.”

  “What are these?” He turned the small metal items from side to side.

  Alice’s brow furrowed. “You really know nothing, don’t you? Sorry! I didn’t mean to sound condescending. They are vicious nipple clamps, called Clover clamps, and for me, hard, very much hard, limit.”

  Jonah’s lack of knowledge scared him, and he had to admit this. “I have not read about, or discussed, what limits are. I have a basic idea, but need to talk to Alex. As for the toys, I’ll get the hang of what I like.” He looked at the pile of goodies and picked up the brush, smacking his own palm with it. “Of all of this awesome and intriguing stuff, I feel like using this. I think you should go bend your pretty little self over the coffee table.”

  Jonah used the hairbrush to direct her to the side, which would leave him stari
ng directly at her arse. He quite wickedly waited for Alice to drape herself over the table first, and then spoke. “Oh, and I think you should lose the panties.”

  He watched as she awkwardly raised herself, stood, and shyly slipped off her underwear. He could clearly see the damp patch on them from where he sat. “Hand me those, please.”

  He held the delicate lace in his hand as he watched her resume her bent over position, the underwear in his hand warm from her body and scented with her arousal.

  Her sex peeked out from the juncture of her thighs, glistening, engorged and rosy pink, free of hair. Jonah walked around her and silently enjoyed the nervousness building in her eyes, and the trembling of her body. Here, in front of him, was a beautiful woman, bent over his table, nervous and aroused, still wearing her stockings and stilettos, toes gracefully pointed. The black lace of her bra served to accentuate how pale she was. He liked that she had no tattoos or piercings he could see, just soft, pale skin.

  “Alice, do you think you’ll scream if I hit you with this hairbrush?” He smacked his palm again, watching her jump a little at the sound.

  She turned her face toward him and nodded. “I think so, sir.”

  He sighed, having fun. “I will have to dull the sound somehow. I am not a fan of loud noises. Hmm, now I wonder how I could mute your screams...” He squatted down beside her. “Open your mouth.”

  When she did so, he stuffed her panties into it. Her eyes widened in surprise; she had clearly not expected that. Jonah reached for the silk scarf from the bag and used it to tie his makeshift gag in place.

  He stood back to admire the sight, and then walked a slow deliberate circle around her and the table. He smugly noticed the coffee table was indeed the perfect height for taking a girl from behind in this position. Alice followed him with her eyes, wary, as he knelt beside her. He raised the brush to inspect it fully within her view, as her eyes nervously kept track of his every movement.

 

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