While the vibrator is pressed hard against one nipple, something very cold hits the other, making me cry out. Ice. When did he get ice?
He circles the tight bud over and over, teasing my little nipple until I think I’ll scream. Abruptly he switches, the body wand now pressing into my cold nipple, the ice circling my other hard bud. With my vagina stretched so wide, I’m beyond frustrated. I need to come so badly it’s starting to hurt.
Master Roman trails what’s left of the ice cube down and leaves it in my belly button. The vibrator lands on my clit. He presses hard against my swollen nub. I come just as hard, screaming as my pussy clenches the enormous dildo, the pulses in my clit causing me to lose the ability to think.
When the orgasm begins to subside, I wince, but Master Roman doesn’t let up. He turns up the speed, making the vibrations increase. So much sensation that I’m lost. I can’t focus on anything except the pressure against my clit. Master Roman has forced me to come on the heels of an orgasm before. He gets an evil enjoyment out of it.
It always takes my body a few seconds to recover and adjust, and I hold my breath as this transition occurs. Every inch of skin around my pussy is throbbing. Suddenly the discomfort passes, and I’m climbing toward a second orgasm. If I weren’t blindfolded, I still wouldn’t be able to see. My eyes have rolled back. My mouth hangs open, my lips dry.
My body is shaking. I only know this because my breasts are jiggling. And then I’m right there at the top, crashing over the edge, falling, tumbling so hard I’m afraid I won’t survive. The powerful orgasm is my undoing, wave after wave of relief consuming me.
This time, Master Roman eases the pressure, slowly removing the wand from my clit. His mouth is on me next, kissing my swollen pussy, licking me, worshipping me. Tears leak out of the corner of my eyes.
God, I love this man.
I don’t know why I would ever want to rock this boat. It’s a terrible idea. I’m so happy. I shouldn’t want more. I should do as I’m told like I always have and enjoy my amazing life. Why is my brain still screaming at me that it’s not enough?
Chapter 10
Master Roman
Two hours later, I’m watching my girl sleep, curled up on her side in our king-sized bed. She’s snuggled deeply, naked, her hands tucked under her chin. I love watching her sleep. It’s one of my favorite pastimes.
When we got home, I undressed her, gave her a bath, and then left her to soak for a bit in the whirlpool tub. She was putty by the time I lifted her out and dried her off.
I’m glad I took her braids out too because now I can casually run my fingers through her long curls over and over. She wants to cut her hair. She’s asked me several times. I’ve balked. I love her hair.
I should compromise. I know I’m not winning any points every time I turn down her requests. She doesn’t ask me for anything outrageous. Except bras. I chuckle silently as I recall the last time we had the bra discussion. It’s recent. Three weeks ago. She wanted to wear something more mature to her graduation. I dug my heels in and denied the request.
We badly need to have a serious discussion. We haven’t done so for a long time. I need to take her pulse.
Does she ask me to let her wear adult clothing and bras in order to get a rise out of me and suffer the consequences? Or does she truly feel the need to branch out of our cocoon? The answer scares me to death. It’s possible she isn’t sure herself.
I know I’m being stubborn. It won’t kill me to let her cut six inches off her hair. It’s nearly down to her bottom again. I’ve let her cut it several times over the years.
I slide down under the covers, spooning her gently, not wanting to disturb her sleep. My face is in her hair, and I inhale the scent of her shampoo, one I chose because I like the smell on her. I frequently rub it into her scalp because I enjoy bathing her myself.
She’s been working hard the past two weeks, taking over my office and righting it. Filing, phone calls, scheduling. She loves working. She always has. I catch her smiling often. But there are times when I see her staring out the window, her expression unreadable. Thinking.
Those times freak me out. Especially when she glances down and fidgets with her clothes. I’ve never once permitted her to dress as an adult inside the house. When she’d come in from school, she knew to go straight to her room and change into whatever I set out for her. It’s our dynamic. It works. She’s only ever questioned it the night of her graduation.
I try to imagine compromising on this issue as I inhale her scent. What if I let her cut her hair to her shoulders and dress like a grown woman when we’re working? Would that be so bad?
Every time I ponder the idea, I shudder. It feels like I’d be letting her slip away. I squeeze my eyes shut and force my body to relax. We have to talk. Soon. Before it’s too late. I know this. I’m just too chicken to do it.
She seemed so happy tonight. Maybe she just needs time to adjust to a new routine, one where she no longer goes to school, but instead works for me. If I give her time to settle in, will it be enough?
Chapter 11
Lucy
Two months later…
I’m confused. I haven’t spoken to Daddy yet today because he was on the phone all morning, leaving in the middle of the call to head for a meeting. It’s after lunchtime now, and he’s due back any minute. That’s not why I’m confused.
What has me perplexed is that this is the second day in a row that Master Roman has dressed me slightly older. Granted, by that I mean twelve. I don’t care much what age he chooses. I simply like being his little. The fact that he shakes it up a bit most days adds to the excitement. No matter if I’m five or twelve, according to Master Roman I’m still too young to make my own choices, and that’s our arrangement.
Yesterday, I woke up to find a baby blue dress that was fitted across my chest as usual, but it landed slightly lower on my thighs. My panties were a solid white. They were the first thing to catch my attention. Never once has he given me panties that weren’t printed with little girl motifs or had bows or were pastel.
He also left me little silver sandals instead of my usual socks with Mary Janes. If that weren’t peculiar enough, when I got downstairs, he braided my hair in one single braid down my back. That freaked me out. I’ve worn two braids or ponytails in this house from the day I became his little.
This is the third day I’ve worn a similar solid-color pastel dress, white panties, and sandals. My hair is once again braided down my back. I fixed it myself this morning. I have no idea what Daddy’s aim is.
We’ve been dancing around each other all summer, him trying new things now and then, me avoiding the fact that I’m lying to myself. I’ve tried. I really have. I want to be what he needs me to be. But I’m losing a piece of myself every day.
When I hear his feet on the hardwood floor, I step out of my attached office/playroom and into his office.
He smiles at me as he drops his briefcase next to his chair and loosens his tie a bit. When I reach his side, he cups the back of my head and kisses my forehead. “How’s your day been, blossom?”
“Good. I think we’re finally caught up on everything that fell behind while I was taking classes, Sir.”
He drops casually into his swivel chair and pulls me between his legs. His face tips back slightly to meet my gaze. “You’re amazing. No one else could have pulled that off in such a short time.”
I shrug, my cheeks flushing. “Of course they could. All I did was file some things and organize your desk. No big deal, Sir.” I’ve done more than that, but it hasn’t been enough.
His hands slide down to my thighs and up under my skirt, pushing it high enough that he can rest his big palms on my butt cheeks. He holds my gaze as his thumbs stroke my bottom over my panties.
“Would you like me to go over your schedule for this afternoon, Sir?”
His expression is off. He doesn’t answer. Finally, he blows out a long breath and pats my bottom. “Go shut the office door, bloss
om.”
I hesitate, still trying to read his face. It’s impossible. I’m also surprised. The only time he shuts the door or has me do it is when he intends to expose me because he knows I don’t like the staff to see me naked.
He lifts a brow at my hesitation.
I scramble across the room to shut and lock the door. When I return, I’m wringing my hands in front of me.
“Do you like this dress, blossom?”
I glance down at the pale yellow cotton dress. The neck is rounded and it hangs loosely over my chest, gathering under my breasts. The skirt is pleated. It hangs below my bottom though, far enough I can sit on it. “Yes, Sir.”
“Turn around,” he commands.
I do so, putting my back to him. I’m standing two feet away. He could lean forward and grab me if he wanted. He doesn’t.
“I hate it. Take it off.”
I suck in a breath, but do as he says, pulling it over my head and holding it at my side.
“The panties too. And the shoes.”
I bend down to pull off my sandals and shrug out of the white cotton panties. I leave the entire outfit in a pile on the floor beside me. I’m shivering from uncertainty. I’ve stripped for him hundreds of times. It makes me hot for him every time as if I’ve never done it before. This time is no exception.
“Turn around, Lucy.” His voice is off, unreadable.
I slowly turn around, clasping my hands at my back. I’m not sure he realizes that I actually feel less awkward when I’m naked in front of him than when I’m dressed as his little girl. Or maybe awkward isn’t the right word. Less…exposed. Less…aroused. Oddly, less sexy.
There’s something about dressing as a little girl for him that makes my nipples hard and my pussy wet. Naked is not as sexy for me.
“I was trying out something new. It doesn’t work for me,” he announces as I return to facing him.
I nod, though I’m not sure he will pick up on my agreement. The older clothes weren’t working for me either.
“I know you’re restless, Lucy. I’m trying to find a way to make you happy.”
I flinch. “I am happy, Sir.” Shit. Obviously I’ve done a crappy job of hiding my recent unease. It certainly had nothing to do with my clothing.
He narrows his gaze. “If you start lying to me, we’re going to have even more problems than we do now.”
I swallow. “I wasn’t aware we had any problems, Sir.” I could kick myself for letting my mind wander. For dreaming of…more. I have everything I need right here. I’m hurting him. The man who loves me more than anything in the world.
He sighs and runs a hand over his thick brown hair. It’s starting to grey at the edges.
“Sir, have I done something…” My voice trails off. I don’t know what to say. Of course I’ve done something. I’ve been distant and confused. He’s obviously noticed. He knows me better than I know myself.
He shakes his head. “No, little cherry blossom. I’ve done something.”
I flinch.
He reaches out a hand, and I come to him, letting him pull me between his legs and settle me on one thigh. His hand strokes up and down my back. His other hand lands on my thigh. “You’re the most precious thing in the world to me, blossom.”
“I know that, Sir.” I do. It’s why I’ve been struggling so hard.
“Do you like working for me?”
“Of course, Sir.”
He tips his head back and blows out a long breath. His fingers tighten on my thigh. “I need you to speak freely to me, Lucy. Do you want to use a safeword to do so?”
Marbles? Is he kidding? I shake my head. “No, Sir.” I stiffen. He’s right. I need to speak up. But I can’t. My thoughts are always a jumbled mess in my head, and I’m scared out of my mind to share them. So, I don’t. I’m not ready. And I for sure don’t want to now. Today.
He takes another breath and then picks me up by the hips and sets me on my feet in front of him. My chest is rising and falling. His hands are tight on my hips. “You will talk to me, Lucy. Right now. We’ve been dancing around each other for weeks. It’s time to air it all out.”
I shake my head. “I can’t, Sir.”
“You can. And you will. When did you get so defiant? Are you afraid of me?”
I shake my head harder. “No, Sir. Of course not.” I’ve never been afraid of him. Afraid of hurting him, yes. Afraid of being hurt by him, no.
He drops his head, planting the top of it on my chest, scaring me. I’ve never seen him like this. “Daddy?” I ask, hesitantly.
He seems to need a moment to pull himself together, and then he sits up straight again, his hands still on my hips. His gaze does not roam my body, it’s focused on my face. His voice is calm when he speaks. “You’ve been restless for months. I know you need something you’re not getting. I want to fix that for you. I first noticed the change on the day of your graduation. Based on your face when I denied your request to remain in your graduation clothes after the ceremony, I suspect you’ve been wanting to branch out. I’ve seen you staring into space many times since then.”
I say nothing. I can’t. My tongue won’t move. I’m scared. His tone is giving me nothing.
He continues. “I love you to pieces, blossom. I don’t want to lose you. So, I’ve been ignoring your needs. Have you outgrown the desire to be my little?”
I finally break out of my frozen state and shake my head. “No, Sir. I love being your little girl.”
“But?”
I bite my lip. I’m not prepared to have this discussion. I can’t think.
Master Roman slowly closes his eyes, and when he opens them, he calmly moves me out from between his legs and positions me to one side of him.
I’m actually shocked when he bends me over his knee. I grab his shin, unbalanced. My feet are off the ground. My breasts are not hanging but flattened against his thigh.
His hand lands hard on my bottom, making me gasp. Again and again. He spanks every inch of my bottom from the top of my cheeks to my thighs. He spanks me for punishment, not pleasure. I’m not aroused. It hurts.
I squirm in his grip, but I can’t escape him. He has a hand on the small of my back, keeping me from squirming free. I give up and let him strike me, slumping against his thighs. I deserve this punishment. I know I do. I’ve violated his trust.
When he’s done, he’s breathing heavily. His hand smooths briefly over my heated bottom, and then he grabs me by the waist and sets me on my knees on the floor in front of him.
I’m disoriented. I fall forward onto my hands and knees. And then I start crying. At first it’s just a sob, and I try to control it, but the dam breaks quickly, and I’m crying for real. Hard. Uncontrollably.
Master Roman holds a tissue in front of my face, but I flinch away from him. I don’t want his help. When his hand comes to my shoulder, I jerk back, crawling out of his reach. I hold up a hand when he starts to rise from his chair, tears streaming down my face.
When I plop down on my bottom on the rug, I wince. My butt is burning from the hardest spanking I’ve ever received. A spanking I totally deserved.
I know Master Roman has the wrong idea. He thinks he’s hurt me, emotionally and physically. I can’t stop sobbing and gasping for oxygen to tell him he’s wrong. The person I’m mad at is me. I’m furious with myself.
He had every right to take me over his knee. I’ve been a brat, keeping things from him. I’m surprised he lasted as long as he did, putting up with my behavior.
“Lucy…” His voice is strained. Frightened.
I lift my gaze to him, my vision blurry, my nose running, tears still falling. “You’re right,” I finally manage. “I need a change. I’m sorry I’ve been too stubborn to tell you.” Another huge sob escapes, and I reach for my pale yellow dress to wipe my face.
“I shouldn’t have spanked you like that,” he says, leaning forward as far as he can in the chair, his elbows on his knees.
I shake my head. “No. You should have
done so months ago. I deserved it.”
“Not if it’s tearing you apart like this.”
I suck in a breath and force myself to focus on him. “The truth is I don’t know what I want, Sir. I can’t figure it out.”
“That’s why we need to talk, blossom.” His voice is calm.
I shake my head. “I’ve tried so many times. I can’t seem to make the words. They sound stupid in my head.” I heave in another breath. “I love you. I don’t want to hurt you. I love being your little girl. I love how you take care of me and make decisions for me. But…”
He forces a small half-smile. “But…” He takes a breath. “It’s not enough for you anymore.”
“It is,” I insist, sounding foolish.
Master Roman shakes his head. “No, Lucy. It’s not. You’re suffocating in this house. I’ve been loathed to admit it out loud. I had hoped it would go away or that I could convince you to take more responsibility in my business and not…leave me.”
I sob again and wipe my face on another corner of the dress. I sniffle and lick my lips. “I need some time, Roman. I need to think.”
He jerks back as though I’ve slapped him. I’ve never once called him Roman. Not even before we entered into our age play arrangement.
“Marbles,” I say before I can stop myself.
Master Roman slumps back in his seat, blinking. After a few seconds, he opens the bottom drawer of his desk and pulls out a soft blanket. He tosses it toward me.
I wrap myself in the fleece and stand on wobbly legs, somehow managing to make my way to the loveseat. I need to be off the floor. I need to be at an equal level to him. I sit on one end. Roman stands and comes around the desk to sit on the armchair adjacent to me. “Talk to me, Lucy.”
I swallow. “The truth is I still don’t know what to say. I just know that I’m restless, like you said. I love our arrangement, but I’m not sure I want to stay like this for the rest of my life. I need more.” Emboldened, I sit up straighter, pulling the blanket around my chest tighter. “I need a job. I need to learn to drive. I need adult things and clothes and responsibilities. And I know that hurts you. I know I’m being selfish and asking for the moon, but I can’t shake the thoughts that keep worming their way back into my head.” I drop my gaze. “I’m sorry.”
Leaving Roman (Surrender Book 3) Page 8
