Meeting Her Master (22 page)

“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 Bê
te
, 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 building 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.”

Dahlia leaned forward and kissed him, enjoying the intimate touch of lying next to the person whom she trusted with her heart, life, and soul.

“Now come along,” Blake told her firmly, “it is time for your session.
I want you to let go of your control and allow yourself to regress. Don’t edit your thoughts or feelings, okay? Go back to your base nature for me.
I
’
m going to introduce you to the St. Andrew
’
s cross today…”

* * *

Giada rocked the girl comfortably in her arms, careful of the tender bruises that covered her back and shoulders. Dahlia simply closed her eyes, resting her face against the older woman
’
s naked flesh, her nostrils filled with the scent of the Icy Hot that the two slaves had massaged into her bottom after Blake had completed the session. He had surprised her this time, covering her from the top of her shoulders to the back of her calves with stinging stripes left by his favorite whips and canes. He had taken her to another edge and she had faithfully trusted him to keep her from falling.

“Do you feel like talking?” Giada asked, stroking her gently.

“No, I just need to be mothered for a while. Thank you, Giada. I love you.”

“I love you too,
ni
ñ
a
. You have not only made Blake so happy and whole, but you have brought so many other people together and touched us all in a special way. I have the daughter I had always wanted, Ginger has Manny, Master Broen has a permanent memory of his favorite lovers, and Humberto has a new toy to play with that he never grows tired of,” she giggled.

“He bought Blake
’
s Beast?”

“He had one made right after the show. I love it,”
Giada laughed,
“except he has been employing the cane portion a little too hard.”

“Blake has a paddle attachment now, you know,” Dahlia advised.

“
Wonderful,
” Giada groaned. “So are you ready to talk to your father tonight?”

“Blake said I had to, ready or not. I haven
’
t seen him in six months and am not sure what to expect.”

“Expect only that we are here for you, child. We will be your fortress if you need one. Do not allow fear to capture you again.”

“
I won’
t, Mama Gi. Promise.”

* * *

Dahlia wiped her hands along the sides of her dress as she entered the dining room. Her father was talking to Blake and turned upon seeing the other man
’
s smile.

“Dahlia! Come here, cupcake,” Blake said, holding his hand out for the nervous girl.

“
You look
…
beautiful,
” Samuel said, eyeing his daughter from head to toe. “I…”

“I
’
m glad you came, Daddy,” Dahlia swung her arms around his waist. “I have so much to tell you.”

Samuel hesitated before returning the gesture, unaccustomed to displaying affection of any sort. His hug was tentative, yet her warmth and genuine affection was contagious. Soon, he was squeezing her so tightly that she begged for air.

“Please sit down. Wine?” Blake asked. Samuel shook his head ‘no.
’

They talked late into the night, both father and daughter revealing the secrets kept for so many years. Samuel explained that the marriage had been one of contractual convenience and that Dahlia had been born of a surrogate with his sperm to meet the conditions of his inheritance. Her parents
’
relationship deteriorated over time as Samuel
’
s interest lessened and he began to secretly meet with male companions. However, he had not been alone, for his wife
’
s promiscuity became a key point of gossip in the locker rooms of the company. They fought constantly behind closed doors spewing insults and accusations back and forth, trying to see who had the power to hurt the other more. Samuel had finally filed for divorce but, when Dahlia
’
s mother had threatened to take custody of Dahlia as a means to hurt him, he refused to sit passively. Investigators produced evidence of the woman
’
s extramarital affairs that he would use against her in court. Panic struck and she desperately sought a way of escape without financial ruin.

Her opportunity had come after Dahlia caught her with the housekeeper. After Dahlia had accidentally stabbed herself at the table, her mother started to leave long, sharp objects within Dahlia
’
s view. She then made frequent, loud, suggestive comments about how to purify a soulless demon and how happy it would make her. Samuel sadly confessed that he had thought nothing of it, knowing that Dahlia could never truly harm herself with pins and needles. Plus, he confessed to his daughter, he did not want to believe that she would have been entrapped by the need to please her mother by harming herself.