The Dancer and the Dom (4 page)
Read The Dancer and the Dom Online
Authors: J.A. Bailey
Slowly,
deliberately, he walked to the piano stool and sat. An idea struck her and she
fell to her knees, crawling to him. With her head at his cock, she put her arms
behind her and leaned towards him, licking the musky, salty cum from him and
licking him clean.
Bartoli
stroked her hair as she finished, a tender little smile making him look quite
boyish. She met his gaze and smiled timidly.
“Thank
you. You’re a good girl. A good slave.”
Pride
overwhelmed her and she smiled, tired but delighted and oh so satisfied.
He
stood up and drew her to the piano stool and gently seated her. Suddenly
exhausted, she slumped forwards, elbows on her knees, eyes gently closed. She
was aware that he had moved but both he and the rest of the world seemed so far
away and she was suddenly very snoozy. Something warm and damp touched her
pussy and she jumped.
“Shhh.
This is for your skin”
A
washcloth. With warm, scented water, Bartoli tenderly cleansed her, from her
pussy to the dried semen still splattered across her face and breasts. She gave
a content sigh as he stroked her body clean, felt the luxurious cloth stroking
her used pussy.
“Show
me your back,” he quietly ordered.
She
stood and leaned over with trembling legs, gripping the piano stool for
balance. He rinsed the cloth and continued to wipe her down, her red buttocks,
her sweaty back, her stretched leaking arsehole. Whether he meant it to or not,
her nipples tightened and a gasp escaped her, half satisfaction and half lust.
He looked at her abused body, chuckling gently before turning her around,
looking into her eyes.
“So,
little slave, you will leave here for your new quarters. The Piccadilly Hotel’s
presidential suite has been booked. My man will be at your flat within the next
fifteen minutes to collect your belongings and leave payment for the remainder
of your tenancy. I leave it to your discretion as to whether you choose to say
any final words to your erstwhile flatmate.” He arched an eyebrow at her and
she bit her lip, a wicked grin crossing her face.
“Master,
how will I get there when you cut my leotard off?”
“Your
new clothes are in the travel bag on the balcony. That grotty little leotard
was not suitable for a slave of mine.” The mischievous glint in his eyes was
unmistakable and her grin broadened.
“If
I might make a little suggestion for my Master...”
“Speak,
little one.”
She
playfully curled a finger into her hair, leaning her head to one side
coquettishly.
“Master
has been so kind to get me clothes fitting of him. Perhaps I ought to model
some on the balcony.”
He
burst out laughing, a boyish smile plastered across his face. If it was
possible for Emmeline to find him even more attractive...
“Hmmm.
Or perhaps instead of you trying to top from the bottom, I ought to leash you,
walk you to the taxi and give you another thrashing on the back seat. Let the
concierge see your raw arse after I’ve given it a real punishment.”
“So
you’re coming with me to the hotel?” Her bunched hands came up to her chin and
her eyes lit up.
Oh please!
His
eyebrows raised. “You’re my slave. And my new prima dancer. I need to be sure
that your new training regime is adhered to at all times.”
Excitement
bubbled up inside of her as his fingers held her chin and lifted her lips to
his again. Whatever new adventure he had planned for her, she was very ready
and very willing.
The End
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