Meeting Her Master (5 page)

“I am also the one who gave you your very first blowjob and taught you how to please a woman,”
Giada relaxed, smiling.
“I love you in a special way. I do miss our encounters.”

“As do I, but I will not defile your marriage bed. Your husband agreed to allow you to continue in my service under the condition I don
’
t give myself to you sexually. I respect him and will honor that request.”

Giada snorted.
“Do you always have the need to keep your promises? And what do you mean by your giving yourself to me? As I recall, it was the other way around.”

Blake laughed.
“Very true. So speak to me. You obviously do not care for the kid any more than she cares for you. On that note, feel free to push her if you must. She needs to learn how to submit to your position if she is to stay.”

“I gather you have already made up your mind to keep her. Foolishness, if you ask me.”

“Your jealousy is very attractive, but it still won
’
t change my mind. Answer this question… How can one punish a masochist? Other than by denying them punishment.”

“Every masochist has certain ways they enjoy pain and suffering, but that doesn
’
t mean they enjoy them all. For example, she might love being whipped, but hates being paddled. You need to discover what she hates, and use that to discipline.”

“She reacted adversely to the rattan cane last night, and I did not deliver punishing strokes, either. She did enjoy tapping…”

“
Who doesn’
t enjoy tapping, Blake?” Giada giggled. She straightened her face. “You mentioned earlier that she is seeing a therapist. Perhaps you can make an appointment and get some information.”

Blake hummed, thinking. He already had an appointment with Ginger set up in two days. The difference was that she was the client. Yes, he could find some very pertinent information if he played his cards right.

“Excellent idea. In the meantime, we just need to watch her reactions. She hates manual labor, so that is a wonderful punishment.”

“Those are her chores. She will perform those regardless of how she behaves. We can vary them, though, to keep her flexible.”

“Once again, you are correct,” Blake acknowledged. “I also know that she protested vehemently against being punished by a woman. That might be an interesting topic to explore.”

“It depends. Masochists tend to be very manipulative in order to get what they want without directly asking. Has she had any real experience in dungeon play or corporal punishment?”
Giada questioned.

“
I don’
t think so. I intend to talk with her later about her limits. I am pretty good at assessing the nature of the information I am given. Keep me up to date on everything that happens. Now stand up and remove your panties.”

“What?”

Blake frowned as he lifted a heavy Lucite ruler from the desk drawer and tapped it against his palm. Giada paled, reaching under the nondescript gray dress and lowering the white cotton panties to her ankles. She stepped out of them, bent down to pick them up, and placed them in Blake
’
s outstretched hand.

He tucked them into his pocket and used the ruler to point to the chair in which Giada had been sitting. She leaned over, grasping the edges of the chair and placed her forehead down on the cushion. Her legs were spread wide, knees straight, and pale gold bottom jutted high into the air. Her dark furred pussy and light brown bottom-hole contracted with the exposure to cool air.

“When was the last time you were punished?” Blake asked, running the edge of the ruler back and forth over her unmarked skin.

“Two months ago, Master. Please don
’
t…”

“Silence,” Blake ordered, striking the button for the speakerphone. “
Hola
!
¿
Có
mo est
ás
?”

“Blake! Old friend! How have you been?”

“Good. I apologize for not coming by lately. We have been foaling. Anything new with you?”

“No,” Humberto chuckled, “unless you count the defiance of my beautiful wife. I have been meaning to send her your way for some reminders.”

“I am glad you brought that up because she is bent down, bare-assed in front of me right now so that she may be punished. Are you aware that this naughty lady of yours snuck out on her day off in order to avoid you while you took care of your accounts?”

“So that is where she went to. I am very disappointed,” the other man answered with a chuckle.

“You don
’
t sound the least bit disappointed. I wanted to get your permission to mark her.”

“Permission? You never need that from me. Just make certain that you leave a lasting impression so that I may seek pleasure this evening.”

“I ask you out of respect, Humberto. You are my friend and she is your wife.”

“I thank you. May I listen to her chastisement?” the man on the other end of the phone asked eagerly.

“But, of course. In fact, she will thank you with every stroke and express how much she loves and appreciates you,” Blake said, twirling his finger to make Giada turn her scowling face back to the cushion. “And if you cannot hear her, I will repeat the stroke. She said it has been two months since her last session. Is this a fact?”

“
Si
… I have been neglectful,” the other man chuckled without remorse in his voice. “Please make up the time for her. Perhaps one stroke for every day missed?”

“And they say I am the heartless one!” Blake laughed as Giada again shifted to look at him, this time in panic. “I have my Lucite ruler. Perhaps we compromise? An even thirty?”

“Must you show such leniency? Ahh, very well. I will let you know if I fail to hear her adoration for me.”

Blake pulled his arm back and loosed the ruler to fall across the crown of the outstretched posterior. Giada yelled out with a raspy plea.

“
Nooo!
Ay Dios mio
!
Muchas gracias
, Humberto. I love and appreciate you, husband.”

“Did she say something?”

“Yes, and quite emphatically. Let me increase the volume so you can hear her better. We don
’
t want to have to repeat any of these strokes, do we?”

Giada mouthed the words ‘thank you
’
through the tears. Blake winked and drew back his arm for the next slap of the thick plastic implement. He touched her skin, looking carefully for damage that would make him stop the session. She was fine…

* * *

Blake dropped the very repentant, and very horny, Giada Alonso at her home and then started on his way to pick up Dahlia. He drove to the main entrance of the campus and waited patiently. Six o
’
clock rolled around and no Dahlia. Another ten, then twenty minutes passed, and Blake became increasingly concerned, which rapidly grew to worried. He had dialed her cell phone several times and left her voice messages to call him immediately.

Just as he was leaving a fourth message, a red Ferrari screeched into the far side of the parking lot and two women exited. Blake squinted. The pink ombre gave away the identity of one, but the other…
Ginger?

“I
’
ll be damned,” Blake murmured as Ginger kissed Dahlia, smacked her ass, and then hopped back into her car. With a wave, she was off and Dahlia turned in his direction.

Dahlia froze when she noticed the truck parked discreetly under a copse of shade trees. Blake stood on the foot ledge and leaned across the roof, watching her.

“Sorry I
’
m late, I…”

“You should have told me you were seeing your therapist today,” Blake stated, curious to see how far she would take the charade.

“Um… Yeah. She came to pick me up for my visit. I forgot.”

“Aren
’
t you going to ask me how I know her?”

“No. I really don
’
t care.”

“How were classes today?”

“Blake, listen.” Dahlia turned to look at him as he started the truck. “Put the pleasantries aside. You are not my dad, nor are you anyone to me other than the guy who hired me to assuage his guilt for almost running me over. Don
’
t put on this act like you give a shit.”

“Maybe I do give a shit. You are barely nineteen, get tossed out on your drunken keister from a 21-and-over club, and walk into the middle of an unlit road. Thank God it was me who saw you.”

“The only god is the one inside of us,” Dahlia scoffed.

“That isn
’
t what I believe, but no matter. You intrigue me. I want to know what is going on in that beady little brain of yours.”

“Why are you so nosy?”

“Not nosy. Just very curious. Do you have a death wish, kid?”

“No! Why do people immediately assume that just because I like pain, that I don
’
t love to live? I am not into any life-threatening crap like strangling, electricity, drowning and stuff. Also, no scat or golden showers. Damn!”

“Calm down, I was just asking. I want to learn your limits. We can make a deal if you cooperate.”

“What kind of deal?”

“We can start with me giving you a thorough spanking every time you reveal something significant to me,” Blake stated, watching her reaction out of the corner of his eye. Her breath had caught, she stiffened, and her nipples rose against her shirt.

“What if I don
’
t want a spanking?” she gulped.

“I will give it to you anyway, and make sure to leave you with a very red and tender derriere,” Blake responded. He raised his eyebrow, noticing the tiny smile on her face. Without knowing, she revealed her desire for intimacy and a loss of control. But was it submission? He seriously doubted it.

He sent Dahlia to her room the minute they arrived at the hacienda, and instructed her to wash up for dinner that was to be served at seven. He also instructed her to dress in her pajamas, sans panties. Dahlia narrowed her eyes at him, and then scampered off to obey.

Blake sat in his office and dialed Ginger
’
s number.

“Ginger.”

“Master? What
’
s wrong? Are you canceling our playtime?”

“No. I had a question about one of your clients. An acquaintance of mine is interested in her and had some questions that I thought you could answer.”

“I can
’
t reveal any personal information. You know that!”

“What I know is that he saw you diddling with this girl in a public place recently. Obviously, you have no issues with crossing the line of professionalism, do you?”

Ginger was silent for a moment. “What do you want to know and which girl is it?”

“How many of these girls do you play with? Oh, never mind. I tend to overlook the fact that you are never satisfied. He said her name is Dahlia.”

“Yeah, she is a different sort. She is a hedonist with strong masochistic qualities. She believes that the more she physically feels, the stronger her hold of reality.”

“Do you think she is delusional? Or a danger to herself?”

“No. In fact, she is the most solid and honest client I have. She doesn
’
t waste time playing guessing games or manipulating like other masos that I know. She will blatantly say what she likes, what she wants, and how much.”

“Assuming she knows, yes?”

“Exactly. She is very inexperienced. She has never had sex with a man, nor has she taken anything up the ass yet. She loves the sensation of pinching, especially that moment when the clamp is opened. She pretends to resist restraints but is eager to accept them. As for pain, she says she loathes anything that stings or bites.”

“Leather for pleasure and…”

“Cane for pain,” Ginger finished. “I have had very little time to explore her pain limits. She has also told me that she hates being humiliated publicly and that she draws the line on medical play, but she has never defined what constitutes either.”

“Interesting. Her limits seem very vague. I will communicate this information.”

“Master? Is it Blake Turner? Dahlia mentioned him.”

“What did she say?” Blake asked without hesitation.

“That he had a delicious cruel streak, but that she doubted he could hold her interest for very long. She did think he was cute, for an older man, but felt he lacked the stamina to keep up with her. She claims that she needs it very hard and frequent. Tell whoever it is that he can
’
t hold anything back.”

“Interesting that these beliefs are being communicated, given the assumption that she has never explored her limits. As for not holding back, I will not promote abuse, Ginger. You know better.”

“Abuse is defined by the recipient, not by the distributor. She wants…”

“You said yourself that she has little experience. I will advise him of her proclaimed needs as well as what I will do to anyone I discover who uses a fist on a woman, bloodies her, or forces himself on her sexually other than as part of a pre-negotiated scene.”

Ginger held her breath in response to the angry tone in his voice. She stuttered out an apology for angering him, and promised to accept twenty strokes of the loop to pay for her irresponsible comment. Blake grunted and hung up on her, knowing that she would be fearfully anticipating the degree of anger he held for her. It was part of the mind game he played, forcing their imagination to run amuck prior to the actual event.

He and Dahlia entered the dining room at the same time. He smiled, pleased with the attire the girl had chosen. A plain oversized pink t-shirt, ankle socks, and her hair parted in the middle and hanging over the shoulder in two low ponytails.

He held the chair out for her and gestured for her to seat herself. With a scowl, Dahlia plopped down and watched as he took his place at the table
’
s head.

“I want to know what happened during your therapy session today.”

“That
’
s private and…”

“I already spoke with a friend of hers who asked her about it.”