Meeting Her Master (21 page)

* * *

Dahlia giggled nervously as one of Blake
’
s pets fashioned a corset around her slender waist, forcing her breasts to swell above the material and encouraging her nipples to spill out the top. The corset was designed for comfort as well as fashion, as was the tear-away gown that she slipped into afterwards. She wore no underthings except the four silken petticoats that Blake intended to ‘unwrap
’
from her, and a pair of thin stockings without shoes.

She was to be a runaway girl, he explained, and he would be the lonely inventor who discovers her hiding in his secret laboratory. She knew nothing else.

“Are you excited, miss?” one of the pets asked as her pink hair was pinned up in an elegant bun on top of her head. “The master has never planned a party like this before. He said it is in your honor.”

“
My honor? I don’t understand,
” Dahlia said. “What do you know?”

“Nothing except we are all coming to the theater to watch. Afterwards, we are free to play, too. He
’s a good man,
” the pet said, squeezing her hand. “
I don’
t know why he refuses to allow you into the harem.”

“Me neither. It makes me feel like I
’
m not good enough for it.”

“
Dahlia? I don’
t think that is the problem,” another pet said, handing her some tea. “I think that you are too good for it. He is in love with you, you know.”

“That is what I hear. From everyone but him. He talks about love and intimacy, but he never says the words.”

“He is a very private and guarded man. When it is right, he will tell you.”

Dahlia gazed at her reflection in the mirror. So much inside of her had changed because of the belief Blake and Giada had shown in her. The desire for pain had faded to only those times she wanted pleasure, not to hide from her reality. Even her art had taken a turn. Under the tutelage of Blake
’
s friend, she had discovered her ability to sculpt and had started producing graceful, seductive pieces of both men and women in the throes of glorious pain and pleasure. Her tabletop statues occupied every flat surface in Blake
’
s room, and he had framed her self-portrait and placed it on his wall. Everyone noted his pride in her accomplishments, and she was frequently teased about making him a proud papa during her frequent demands that the staff pose for her.

Dahlia loved the teasing and playful banter that occupied the house. Instead of feeling like an outsider, the harem had embraced her and sought the opportunity to introduce her to their own special means of obtaining, and giving, pleasure. Giada had begun to instruct her on the running of the house, a job she found immensely boring. Her attempts at playing hooky from these less appetizing responsibilities led to several sessions with the ‘strap from hell
’
and the ‘cane of death
’
as Blake
’
s two newer implements were secretly named. She loathed the things, and when they were wielded by either Blake or Giada, she awarded her disciplinarians with genuine tears of guilt and remorse. The sadness upon their faces hurt more than the agonizing burns to her raw backside.

Dahlia looked up as a warm hand stroked the side of her face.

“You were deep in thought, cupcake. Are you doing okay?” Blake asked, sitting across from her. He was dressed in late 17
^th
-century garb, his sleeves rolled up and vest unbuttoned.

“I
’
m fine. I was just thinking about this last month and the things I
’
ve been learning. What
’
s that?” she asked, seeing something in his hand.

Blake grinned, hiding it behind his back. “I have a surprise for you.”

“What surprise? Tell me!” she demanded, reaching to grab the hidden object behind his back.

He held it over his head, far from her reach, showing her a piece of paper. “What
’
s it worth to you?”

“My undying gratitude and appreciation? Come on, Blake!”

“Very well. Here.”

“It
’s a check for
… oh, shit… fifty thousand dollars? I don
’t understand.
”

“Master Broen has commissioned you to sculpt a piece for him of his slaves. I
’
ve been showing off your work to our guests and everyone is quite impressed.”

Dahlia blushed. “I
’
m just a beginner! I can
’
t do that…”

“You can and you will, darling. You are immensely talented and all these people are seeing it. I have had several generous offers to purchase the sculptures already made, but those are mine. There is only one left that I don
’
t have.”

“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.