For my Master('s) (10 page)

Four

I have no idea where I am when I wake up. Sleepily squinting, I try to make sense of my surroundings. Dark sheets, all in black. I am buried deep inside of them, unable to see anything except the white ceiling above me. Slowly, as my mind joins my body in waking up, I am able to recollect my memories.

I am in his bedroom. The real one. The one he sleeps in and has never taken me to, except for showing it to me once when he gave me a quick tour of his apartment.

I sit up and look around. I am alone. But the sheets next to me are ruffled. And it is morning. A big smile appears on my face. The expression of a silly, happy little girl who finally got the toy she wanted. This might be an exception. He might give me a lecture on how this would never happen again and it was just because it had gotten too late – though that has never stopped him before. He has sent me home at two in the morning before.

We had taken a bath after our play – and a drink. And I remember curling up in his arm, wrapped in his ridiculously comfortable bath robe. Relaxed, satisfied and warm. And instead of telling me to get dressed and asking Frank to drive me home, he had eventually picked me up as I was dozing off on the couch, and carried me to his bed. I was half asleep when it happened and considered it a dream. And here I am.

Another realization hits me. I am completely naked. But I find a robe next to the bed on my side. It’s a fresh one, but the same kind as the ones we wearing the night before. I step out of bed and put it on. The alarm clock on the table next to the bed tells me that it is shortly after nine. Still ample of time till my first and only class for today. I look around in hopes of finding my stuff, my clothes and my phone, but most of it is probably in the living room. 

Luckily, there is another bathroom connected to his bedroom. I use it and check myself in the mirror, quickly washing my face – that still bears the remains of last night’s make-up – and combing my hair in an attempt to not look completely trashed when I face him.

I take a deep breath before I make my way to the living room, where I expect to find him. The room is empty, but I hear him rummaging in the kitchen.

"Good morning," I timidly whisper as I enter the room.

He is wearing a bath robe himself and in the middle of pouring freshly brewed coffee into a – naturally – black cup, glancing at me in surprise. His hair is ruffled and he is unshaven. I have never seen him like that and cannot hide a sheepish smile. He looks so different, innocent almost.

"Did I wake you?" He asks.

I shake my head. "No."

"Coffee?"

"Yes, please."

He is somewhat distant, avoiding eye contact, just giving evidence that my theory could be right.

"Sit," he says, pointing to one of the bar stools at the counter. He places the cup of coffee in front of me, gesturing to a tiny carafe with milk.

"If you want sugar, there’s-"

"No, I’m good." I interrupt him.

He silently nods and sits down on the stool next to me, adding milk to his coffee.

"Listen," I start. "I’m sorry. I don’t want to bother you. I’ll be out soon – and it won’t happen again."

He looks at me, puzzled. "What won’t happen again?"

Now I am the one looking at him in confusion. Why is he acting as if this is normal? After making such a big deal of not having me stay overnight for months.

"I mean," I stutter. "Me staying over… I know it’s not part of the deal."

"Ah." He nods. He sips at his coffee, again avoiding eye contact.

"We might have to talk about that," he says eventually.

"No," I argue. "It’s okay. Like I said, it won’t happen again."

Finally, he looks at me. How can he look so handsome after just getting up? It’s insane how gorgeous this man is.

"What if I want you to?" He asks, fixating me with his green eyes.

"What? What do you mean?"

"What if I wouldn’t mind you staying overnight?" He clarifies.

I take a deep breath in surprise. "Is that… I mean, is that something you would be interested in?"

He smiles. "I like you, baby doll. More than I care to admit."

I blush and hold on to my coffee as if it was a safety net, staring into the brown liquid, searching for the right thing to say.

"I would like to see what it is like to spend more time with you," he adds. "Doing more than playing and having drinks. I think I might enjoy that. With you."

"Oh." I say. Dumbfounded, I take my coffee as an excuse for not replying, taking a bunch of sips, practically hiding my face in the cup.

"You don't have to," he says, sounding completely nonchalant. "It doesn't change much, anyways. For now."

"I'd love to," I say. "I mean. I'd love to spend more nights with you - and I wouldn't mind if things changed. Somewhat."

He smirks at me. "Somewhat, huh? Don't get too greedy, little one."

I mirror his expression. "No, Sir. I won't."

"When does your class start?" He asks, changing the subject suspiciously soon.

"At noon."

"Do you want Frank to drive you to campus or home first?"

"Home first would be good," I say. "I'd like to change and get a few things."

This is when it hits me. Liz! She must be worried. I don't think I messaged her to tell her that I am spending the night.

"Excuse me for a second," I mumble and hurry out of the kitchen to the living room. My handbag is still where I left it, on the floor next to the sofa. I had put my phone back inside after Nathan came home - and haven't looked at it since.

And sure enough, it is flooded with unanswered messages and a call from Liz. Luckily, she is not as worried as I feared she might be. She knows that I was heading to see that special someone she doesn't know anything about, that ominous boyfriend who is not really a boyfriend per se.

"Spending the night, huh?," she assumes in her last message. "Let me know you're alive!"

And so I do, typing a quick message so she can rest assured.  I stroll back to the kitchen, taking my phone with me to check my mails, expecting nothing of importance. But it turns out, there is. A mail from the University.

"Holy shit," I whisper as I get back to the kitchen where Nathan is still drinking his coffee while reading something on his iPad.

"What is it?" He asks, looking up. "Everything okay?"

My eyes are still glued to my phone. I am reading the e-mail again and again, making sure that I am not dreaming, that this is not a mistake, a misunderstanding. But no, it really says...

"I got the scholarship."

Five

It has been a week since Nathan is no longer my patron, but solely my Dom. My Master. My partner, even.

There was a moment where I actually feared he might get mad, because in a way, he is losing a part of the control he had over me. But instead, he is genuinely happy for me. He smiled when I showed him the e-mail and took me in for a passionate embrace.

"You're not... mad?" I asked, even though I realized that it must have been a dumb question.

He laughed, shaking his head in disbelief. "Little girl, I am proud of you and happy for you. And I will still spoil the hell out of you - especially now."

He gave me a kiss on the forehead. "You did good. We need to celebrate."

He had to leave that evening and I haven't seen him since. Today, exactly a week after that life changing day, we are to celebrate. With a special surprise, he promised.

He is already home, waiting for me with a glass of expensive champagne as I walk out of the elevator and into his glorious apartment that has become a second home to me by now.

"Cheers," he softly whispers as we cling glasses. "To my precious little baby girl, the achiever."

I beam at him. "Thank you, Sir."

Being called an achiever by a man like him seems out of proportion, to say the least. I feel incredibly flattered.

"You know I can only reward you, if you are naked," he adds as I sip on the divine champagne. "I want you to go to our play room and wait for me. You know how."

"Yes, Sir." I nod. I put my glass away and make my way to the bedroom. Completely naked and on my knees, palms resting on my thighs, I wait for him to enter the room.

He doesn't make me wait long. I keep my head lowered as he enters, whispering "Good girl" in his sexy Dom voice.

He places himself in front of me, reaching his left hand out to me.

"Get up."

"Yes, Sir."

He helps me back on my feet and greets me with a kiss, soft and sweet, almost shy compared to other times. Today, his tongue craves mine like a lover, not only like an owner.

"Remember what you said on the day we met?" He asks in a low voice as our kiss finishes.

I look at him with complete lack of understanding. "No, Sir?"

"Do you remember the pictures?"

My eyes widen. "Yes, Sir. I do!"

"What did you tell me you wanted me to do to you?" He asks, gently brushing a strand of hair out of my face.

I blush, realizing where he is going with this.

"You wanted me to tie you up," he whispers. "Like the women in my pictures."

"Yes, Sir."

"Don't you think today would be a good occasion for that?" He asks. "Tying you up. Reminding you, that you are still mine, even though you are an independent woman now?"

I nod. "I would love that, Sir."

He takes a step back and I realize that he is already holding the rope in his hands. Black, of course.

"I will start with something easy," he says. "A
karada
."

He drapes the rope around the back of my neck, the ends of it falling down at the front of my body. I stand calm, but my heart jumps with anticipation as the rope touches my skin. He takes the ends with both of his hands and brings them around one another three times, creating three twists before he brings the two ends of the rope down, between my legs.

A faint moan escapes my mouth as he reaches down, bringing the two ends up and apart on my back side, confining my folds between the two ends. He holds the rope up and moves behind me, bringing the ends up between my ass and parting them to wrap them around my hips, moving back to the front so he can bring them through the lowest twist on my belly. He softly pulls the rope, opening the twist so it forms a diamond shape on my front. Even though his pull is not very tight, I can feel it between my legs. The confining touch of the rope is titillating, making my insides dance with anticipation.

He continues the process, bringing the ends of the rope to the back, crossing them above my spine and bringing them back to the front, once again passing them through the twists. He repeats this three times, creating three diamonds at my front. Eventually, he finishes the topmost twist and tells me to lift my arms, so he can bring the ends of the rope back around beneath my arms.

The rope has tightened around my torso, confining me, but not in an unpleasant way. I can feel my body's heat caused by excitement and anticipation.

He finishes my harness by bringing the rope around  to the front of my body, through the topmost twist, then back around behind me. From there, he brings the ends up underneath the rope where it passes around my neck, and down beneath the rope wrapping around my back.

"Done for now," he whispers, examining his work as he stands in front of me. "You look exquisite, just as I imagined."

He comes closer and softly caresses the rope around my neck, running down alongside the front of my trembling body. I can feel his touch running through the entire harness, feeling a slight tickle on every part of my skin that is in contact with it. Especially between my legs.

"Do you like it?" He whispers as he continues to wander downwards.

"Very much, Sir," I breathe. "I can feel you. Everywhere."

"Everywhere, huh," he says, his eyes fixating mine with the piercing intensity I only know from him. His right hand parts from the rope and reaches down, stroking across my mound and finding its way between my legs. My folds are pushed together by the rope running through my center on each side. He still finds his way between them, parting me with one finger. A smirk appears on his face as he reaches my wetness, gently massaging my clit while I pant with excitement.

"I knew my perfect little slut would enjoy this," he whispers with a content smile. "You truly belong to me. All of you."

Epilog

"How are you feeling?" he asks with concern and affection running deep in his voice. "Does it hurt? Are you comfortable?"

I can feel his loving hands on my skin, caressing the side of my belly. It tickles and causes me to flinch. But there is nowhere for me to escape. My body is tied up, my hands bound together at my back, one leg confined in a thigh tie, a
futomomo
, the other bound to a ring above me, slightly suspended.

I am lying on my side, relishing the feeling of the tight rope cutting into my flesh. It is not as strong as it has been on other occasions, but the intensity is still good enough for me. I wish it was tighter, but he refused to go any further this time.

He is being overly cautious – which is a little annoying, but also extremely cute. It makes me love him even more. And it makes me roll my eyes at him, provoking sweet punishments in times when he is reluctant to give them to me. Because of my condition, he says.

He wanted me to stop working right after we found out.

“You don’t have to work,” he said. “It’s not like we need the money.”

But this is not about the money. He should know that. I haven’t worked so hard to finish my Master’s degree with a good grade and worked my ass off to land this job as a political consultant at one of the biggest foundations in the country just to drop out as soon as we find out that we are expecting.

I am happy. Very much. Nathan and I have been talking about having kids as soon as we got married about a year ago.

I wanted to wait with getting married until I finished my degree. Nathan knew this and understood my reasons, even though he admitted that I might earn a few extra spankings by making him wait this long.

He officially proposed the same night of my graduation ceremony with all the romance a girl could ask for. And he supported my decision to wait with having kids – even though this was another thing he could hardly wait to do with me.

It is the cutest really. Especially coming from a man who, just a few years ago, didn’t even want to share his bed over night with another woman. Who just wanted to play and have someone who submits to him. How greatly all of this has changed.

Luckily, the best things never changed – except for his growing concern for me and our firstborn.

I am his. His submissive, his baby girl – and now, his partner and wife. Often, I thought I should write a thank you note to my former counselor at college and my parents.

They were right – a job interview at
Jones & Jones
could change my life. It certainly has.