Meeting Her Master

by Hayse, Breanna

  “What’s that?” Dahlia asked, climbing into his lap and snuggling under his chin, her hand shaking as she looked at her commission check in disbelief. These people believed in her!

  “I want one of us depicting how we feel for each other. Something intimate and personal.”

  “How… what exactly do you feel for me?” Dahlia asked timidly.

  “You know how I feel. I show you all the time,” Blake said, clearing his throat.

  “Yeah, but you never tell me. I’m a woman. We need to hear things, not just see them.”

  Blake shifted uncomfortably in the chair and glanced at the clock on the wall. “It’s getting late and we have a show to put on. We will talk more later, okay?”

  “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to put you on the spot,” Dahlia said sadly, wondering if she had blown their moment with her demands. She mentally kicked herself for her impatience. Like before, it was all about her and her needs. “I know you are uncomfortable talking about feelings. Forgive me?”

  “Cupcake, it is I who should be asking your forgiveness. We all have areas of weakness. This is mine. You know I… care deeply for you.”

  Dahlia felt her heart sink. Those were not the words she wanted to hear from him. She forced a smile, feeling the need for pain spinning within her.

  “Yes, I know. I want you to go as far as you can tonight. I need to feel,” she confessed.

  “I will. And I am sorry. I know this stirring is my doing.”

  “At least we have an outlet, right? Maybe some amazing sex afterwards?” Dahlia asked, feigning cheerfulness.

  Blake kissed her mouth. “I see the sadness in your eyes. Sadness I put there. Don’t pretend that it doesn’t exist, baby. Allow yourself to feel it, not run away in the pain.”

  “Let’s go, Blake.” Dahlia rose from his lap. She placed the check on the table. “Maybe I can go up to Montana to do this piece. It would give us some time apart.”

  “You want to leave me?” Blake grabbed her arm, pulling her around to face him.

  “No, I want some space from you. I need to figure out some things and I can’t do it when I am surrounded by a place I don’t ever want to leave.”

  “Don’t make any decisions right now. Please. Let’s explore tonight and see where it takes us. I need you, Dahlia. There are not very many people I have said that to in my life.”

  “I know. And you and Giada taught me that pride prevents us from admitting that need. I just hate the feeling of needing anyone because I will be disappointed.”

  “You need us, cupcake. Does that disappoint you?” He forced her to look up into his blue eyes.

  “No. It scares the shit out of me. I love you, Blake. I love Giada and I love my life here.” She fought back tears as she admitted her need. “I need you in my life, all of you… especially you. I don’t want to appear clingy or desperate because you hate that and…”

  “I love you too, Dahlia. Damn it, girl, I love you too and you are not the only one scared shitless.”

  * * *

  Blake’s words left Dahlia positively giddy, as well as in turmoil. Were they true? Were they spoken out of a moment of duress and not sincerity? Did he say them so she would not retreat to the secluded place of her mind because he had a show to put on? Why did she doubt him? He had proven his commitment to her. He had offered her an esteemed place in his home, albeit not as part of his harem. He spent more time with her than he did with his other pets, doing ‘normal’ activities like taking walks, going to the movies and out to dinner. If she didn’t know better, she would believe he was dating her. Blake did not date, though. For him to do so would suggest a monogamous interest and his personality and sexual needs exceeded that which could be given by a single individual. No, Dahlia pondered, he was almost as hedonistic as she was and the term love that he used was nothing more than a substitute for the word lust.

  Lust was good, though. She could live with that. She had received love from Giada in an unexpected manner, crossing the lines between mentor, sexual partner, mother, and friend. She knew where she stood in Giada’s life and it was a place that was unwavering and strong.

  “I lost you. Dahlia? Come back,” Blake’s low voice called. “Where did you go?”

  “I’m just a little overwhelmed right now. No biggy.”

  Blake’s eyes looked hurt. “I don’t understand. I finally summoned the guts to tell you that I love you and you drift into this absent void. It’s hard for me to share my feelings, cupcake. I don’t want them stomped on any more than you do yours.”

  “Stomp on your feelings? Blake, I would never do that. I’m just afraid that you said that because you felt you had to.” Dahlia looked at the floor shamefully.

  He lifted her chin. “You know me better than that. I love you. I want you to be part of my life until the day I die. I want… I want you to marry me one day. When you are ready.”

  “What?”

  “You heard me. I want my world to know that you have become my own personal set of handcuffs, and that we are forever linked together. I was going to wait until later for this, but…” He withdrew something from his pocket and lifted her left hand to his lips. “Would you marry me, Dahlia Covington?”

  “M-marry you?”

  He sat on the couch next to her and removed a white-gold ring from the small box and held it between his fingers. The pink diamond glittered happily from the prongs. “Yes, marry me. I saw this diamond and thought of you. From that day on, I knew that you were to be mine. It has not left my pocket since. Please, belong to me.”

  He sounded nervous and so very vulnerable! This sweet, boyish side of him charmed Dahlia. “I have so much baggage, Blake. I’m not a submissive and suck at being obedient. You want someone to revere you and I don’t know…”

  “We will sift through your baggage together. I want you, as you are. Stubborn, defiant, challenging, and, at the same time, so innocent and honest with your desires. I am in this for the long haul, cupcake. You have my word. Please, don’t refuse me the gift of your hand.”

  “I have boundaries issues, remember?” Dahlia choked back a tear.

  “You are still not permitted to refuse me,” Blake smiled. “Maybe, this once, you can show me that you can obey and not challenge me. I will promise you that life will never be boring or predictable, and that you will never feel alone again.”

  “This isn’t a joke?”

  “I swear,” Blake rested upon his right knee and gazed into her eyes, “this is no joke. Marry me, Dahlia. Be my wife.”

  Dahlia choked back a sob as she nodded. “Yes, I will marry you. And not because you ordered me to obey you!” She forced a laugh.

  “My long-suffering little pet,” Blake grinned, slipping the ring upon her finger. “I know damn well that, once again, you are doing what you want to do despite your instructions. I never thought I would see the day that I would honestly be pleased that you chose self-indulgence.”

  Dahlia giggled, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I love to self-indulge when it comes to you. In this case, it is mutually beneficial. As your wife, does that give me the right to use boundaries on you?”

  “No.”

  “Oh… how about being part of the harem? Can I do that?”

  “No.”

  “Oh… may I stop those awful chores and sleep in late?”

  “No.”

  “So nothing has changed with this ring, has it?” Dahlia grinned.

  “No. Except that you will be sleeping in my bed every night and waking up in my arms every morning. Can you live with that?” He kissed her cheek.

  “I’ll find a way to get used to it,” she giggled as he nibbled on her neck. “I love you, Blake.”

  “I love you more, Dahlia.”

  * * *

  The audience watched in stunned silence as the mad inventor flung the defiant girl onto the elaborate couch and climbed over her trembling body.

  “You dare trespass on these premises, wench? For whom do you spy?” />
  “I am not a spy, dear sir! I am a mere girl seeking shelter from the blistering cold and snowy banks!” Dahlia called out. The audience laughed, fanning themselves in the late August heat. The cue was caught and the roar of the air-conditioning filled the room.

  “The only blistering you shall see will be upon your derriere!” Blake bellowed, lifting her bodily from the couch and ripping the outer gown from her body.

  “Sir! I am but a blushing virgin! I have never known a man’s attentions.” Dahlia placed her hand over the swells of the bodice.

  “Your bottom will certainly blush for me this day. And fear not, dear girl, for it will not be a man you face this day, but a beast!”

  “Sir! Unhand me!” Dahlia yelped as she was tossed over his knee. Her petticoats were tossed over her head, revealing a round, pale, and beautifully unmarked bottom.

  “Look at this delicate moon,” Blake proclaimed, tilting so that the audience could see Dahlia’s bottom and all the charms hidden between her cheeks. “What is this?”

  Dahlia giggled, showing him the surprise she had been hiding. With Giada’s help, she had managed to avoid his advances for the past week, stating that she wanted to be truly aching and in need for the performance. A tiny gem twinkled between her legs where she had gotten a vertical hood piercing.

  “Please, do not look at me so! I was ringed by the farmer so that he could claim me for his own on my next name day,” Dahlia pretended to wail with embarrassment as she tried to cover herself.

  “This is so cool!” Blake exclaimed, playing with the bar. “Does it hurt?”

  “Just a bit tender.”

  “This is awesome…”

  “Sir? You speak in ways I do not understand,” Dahlia teased the momentary slip from character. “Ow! My buttocks are delicate and cannot take this abuse! Ow!”

  “They shall take the flat of my palm and a taste of the whip, young woman.” Blake resumed his role. “These buttocks will know, each time you attempt to place your posterior upon a seat, that you have angered me with your deceit. Tell me! For whom do you work and why do they seek my inventions?”

  Blake let fall a series of his characteristic smacks upon her squirming backside, his large hand covering the mounds and quickly turning them to a dark pink. Dahlia cried out, mostly in pleasure as the impact of his spanks jarred the clit ring, quickly stimulating her. She bucked upon his lap, spreading her legs as he spanked harder.

  “Holy fuck!” she yelled out as she climaxed unexpectedly. The audience clapped loudly, cheering her.

  “Methinks the lady enjoyed her discipline,” Blake laughed, patting Dahlia’s bottom. He cleared his throat. “For shame, woman! How dare you rise to heights of pleasure when you are being punished! To the bench with you so that I might show you a true lesson of humility.”

  “No! Not the bench,” Dahlia begged, trying not to laugh. “I beg of you, have mercy!”

  “Mercy is not yours for this eve. Be still, lest you be harmed beyond your nether regions.”

  “Not my nether regions! They must not be touched! Sir! Please!”

  Blake tied her face down to the Victorian saddle bench, wrapping her arms and legs to straddle the long, rounded top and expose her ‘nether regions’ to the eager audience. Her petticoats were, once again, over her face inhibiting her ability to see what he was conjuring to torture her with. She jumped as he touched the tiny gem, making it shine in the spotlight.

  “I like this,” he whispered. “No one has ever done this for me before.”

  “It’s yours to enjoy,” Dahlia whispered back.

  Blake straightened up, returning to his character. He produced a three-foot-long whip and snapped it against the bench leg, causing all within hearing to jump. Dahlia begged release, partially fearful of the implement, even in his expert hands. He had not whipped her since Montana and, even then, it had been brief.

  “This is a chicotte,” he announced, lifting the stiff, single-tail whip in the air. “It is made of rhinoceros hide. Fascinating device, don’t you think? A friend from South Africa sent it to me. He said that the hide is cut, carved, and rolled to this long, tapering cylinder. It is supposed to deliver quite the lasting impression. Let us see what you think about it.”

  The audience gasped as the first welted stripe appeared across Dahlia’s buttocks, their whispers effectively masking her squeak. Blake ran his hand along her flesh, drew back, and laid another stroke along the length of her sit spots.

  “Sir! I beg you! If you must, use a cane, not that torturous weapon!” Dahlia begged in earnest.

  Blake chuckled, striking her a third time, listening for the tinkling in her voice that denoted pleasure. “This seems to be an adequate means to control an obstinate and somewhat peevish girl, yes? One more strike, and you shall thank me.”

  “No, please… Oh, my God!” Dahlia yelped as the searing stripe crossed at an angle across her cheeks. True tears surfaced.

  “Thank me, woman. If you sound sincere, I will put this device aside.”

  “T-thank you, kind sir,” Dahlia cried, her fingers clenched in balls as she tried to catch her breath. “I beg forgiveness for my petulance.”

  “You are welcome. This,” he lifted a two-inch-wide rawhide strap attached to a wooden handle, “is a rebenque. Quite an effective device for gaining attention, especially when used as such,” he noted as he sailed it against the backs of Dahlia’s thighs. Twice more, the rebenque kissed her snowy thighs, causing her to scream in a heated frenzy of pain that was deepening into sensual warmth.

  “I have so many other toys sent to me by foreign friends,” Blake said, stroking his fingers down the slit of her ass and resting upon her moist pussy. “But it is time to introduce you to a foreigner of your own. This is La Bête, the Beast. He will serve your needs this day.”

  A series of gasps was heard among the viewers as Blake pulled a tall machine from behind a curtain. The intricacy of its design was left exposed and uncovered so that all could see what it could accomplish. He placed two large, long dildos on the jutting staffs and lowered it to be parallel with Dahlia’s open, vulnerable body. In silence, Blake went about angling the faux cocks and readjusting the height until he was satisfied. With a flourishing bow and sweep of his hand, he activated the device.

  The two cocks began to pulsate, alternately moving in a pumping sequence as though they sought a human cushion into which they could sink themselves. A flick of the switch and one moved faster than the other, then with longer and more deliberate strokes, the other with faster and harder plunges.

  “As you see,” Blake grandly bowed, “this is the ultimate fucking machine. It not only impales my victim from every angle, but leaves her bottom ready for more play.”

  Loud clapping urged him to the next step.

  “Shall I stop here? With such a mundane device of erotic pleasure? Nay! Attached is a spring in which I can attach a rattan cane. I can manipulate the angle, the intensity, and the speed of the blows with this simple magic box.” He held up a remote. “She can then use her mouth for the purpose it was intended. My own pleasure! Shall I demonstrate?”

  Dahlia groaned as she felt his fingers massage her sensitive bottom-hole in preparation for penetration. She tried to steady her breathing as she felt him press the tip of the cock-shaped dildo just past the entrance and anchor it steadily. The head of the other, larger cock was targeted for her wet slit and easily slid into place. Blake stood back and struck the remote.

  Dahlia gripped the ropes that held her as she felt the long cock slide slowly into her ass while the other one simply vibrated quietly, allowing her time to adjust to the double intrusion. Blake increased the speed and depth of the cocks, watching as she began to rock with the alternative fucking of both her ass and her pussy. The sound of her breath told him that she was aroused and wanting more. He released the cane.

  The first swipe was gentle so that she would not lose focus on the pleasure she was experiencing. The cane struck again, slowly buil
ding in intensity, as Dahlia grew tighter with need. Blake walked to her head and flipped the petticoats from her face.

  “Suck me, woman,” he demanded, pulling out his engorged cock and holding it before her panting lips. Eagerly, Dahlia took him into her mouth, humming as her body was thoroughly fucked and stimulated. Her eyes opened briefly as Blake stroked her hair, praising her mouth as she twirled her tongue around his hot shaft.

  He increased the speed of the cock in her pussy and slowed the one in her ass as his climax grew close. Another flick of a switch sent a vibrator to touch her sensitive clit. Dahlia, her mouth filled with his cock, released a muffled cry as Blake’s juices shot down her throat while her body simultaneously seized in a heart-stopping orgasm. Cock still lodged in Dahlia’s mouth, Blake offered his audience a short bow and the curtains closed.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “I am having second thoughts,” Dahlia said, curling her naked body next to Blake. “Do I have to do this tonight?”

  “Yes, cupcake. Once you face your father with this, then we can tell him we are going to be married. That should be a positive distraction.”

  “Could we possibly session first? Giada said it would help calm me.”

  “She is preparing the dinner for tonight and might not be able to take the time away to join us.”

  “Darn. I like sucking on her tits,” Dahlia sighed, rubbing her nose against his chest hair. “They make me feel all warm and cozy.”

  “She’s got a wonderful rack to love on, for sure. I’ll ask if she can take a little break and give you aftercare, ok?”

  “That would be awesome. Thank you. Blake?”

  “I love you,” he said with a smile.

  She smacked his flat stomach. “You beat me to it this time. I love you too. Thank you for being my savior.”

  “My darling,” he lifted her to straddle his hips, “you are the one who saved me. Without you, I would have ignored this need inside of me. I love my pets, but I am in love with you. Forever.”