Master of Two: Nascent Love (3 page)

Education was important to him, and he
didn't want to have a woman who couldn't reason coherently or
converse on complex issues. In Amiko’s case, she could serve as a
translator on a part-time basis locally. Much like Renee with her
part-time counseling practice. Whatever money they made at work was
theirs to spend or save as they wished. Kev didn't need their
income and felt no resentment over paying the household
expenses.

As he exited the Jacuzzi, he decided to show
Renee the pictures of Amiko and see how she reacted. It had been
several months since the last time he’d hosted a second woman and
indulged himself in a ménage a trois, as well as indulging Renee in
her craving for lesbian sex. Although he wouldn’t want to give up
Renee, if he gauged her reactions, he’d at least know what to
expect, perhaps how to prepare her and how stern he would have to
be with her to have his way. Renee would never, ever tell him no,
but if he asked her directly for her opinion, she would give it.
She was an intelligent woman, not a doormat.

As he walked with Renee up the stairs, he
turned to her and said, "Come into my office for a moment. I want
to show you something."

She nodded, smiled sweetly, and followed him
in.

"I have some pictures here. Take a look at
them and tell me what you think."

He loaded in the data key and opened the
picture files: Amiko’s smiling face; two full-body shots, front and
back; a close-up of her hairless pussy; before and after pictures
of her nipples in response to the torture they’d undergone; a
butt-spread photo of her tiny, puckered asshole; and, lastly, a few
good pictures of her giving head to her current master.

Renee seemed rapt. It pleased him that her
nipples grew hard as she stared. He could smell her excitement as a
subtle sign of interest. "Who is she, Master?"

"I’m considering buying her contract. She's
opened it up to bids."

Renee’s eyes, now troubled, shot to his
face. "But—"

He smiled at her and patted her bottom. "No
worries, pet. She’d be a second girl, not a replacement."

Renee visibly relaxed. "Oh! Well…she’s
awfully pretty. That picture of her crying, with her nipples all
sore, made me want to kiss her." She turned back to Kev. "I hope
that’s okay."

"More than okay. I have to make a decision
in the next few days. I’m leaning toward opening negotiations."

"Is she nice?"

"Very nice. Smart. Speaks four languages
fluently."

"Where is she from originally?"

"Japan. She’s in Paris now."

Renee considered the pictures intently. "How
old is she?"

He smiled and ran a hand along Renee’s
smooth, warm flank. "A little younger than you, but not much.
Twenty-two."

"So, four years. That’s not so much. I
wouldn’t want to feel like an old lady in comparison."

"This is not about you, Renee. I’m not
asking for your permission."

Immediately, she dropped to her knees, head
bowed. "I’m sorry, Master. I didn’t mean to imply that."

"Stand up, pet. I’m not mad at you. You are
allowed to have an opinion; you know that."

She stood, but remained hesitant to
speak.

"What?" Kev was tired. His question came out
a bit impatiently and he sighed, getting himself back under
control. He was a self-disciplined person, but sometimes it took
more effort than other times.

Renee bit her lip, looking at the pictures
on the monitor again. "Will she like me, do you think?"

He reached for her chin and tilted her face
toward his. "She will obey me. She will defer to you—you are the
First Girl of my household. And, yes, she’ll like you. But more
important than that, I like you."

Her eyes sparkled. "Thank you, Master. I
love you."

Kev gave her a sincere reply. "That means a
lot to me, Renee. Now go get my bed ready." He finished his bourbon
and checked his email one last time before bed.

* * *

The room was dark. No sunshine penetrated
the vertical blinds, no light shone from a light bulb somewhere in
the house. The digital clock read 3:06 a.m. He couldn’t remember
what he’d been dreaming, but he awoke with a rock hard erection.
Kev ran a hand over his face. He was still quite weary, but his
dick was insistent.

"Renee," he called.

She stirred at the foot of his bed.

"Renee!"

Her voice was sleepy, low and slow. "Y-yes,
Master?"

"Come up into the bed."

"Yes, sir."

Rustling sounds went quiet as she crawled up
onto the bed. "How can I serve you?"

He took her hand and put it on his stiff
cock. "Give me head."

She caressed his penis with sure fingers.
There was interest in her voice as she said, "Yes, Master."

Within seconds, she knelt between his knees
and put her tongue lightly on his balls. She licked for a moment,
gliding her hand up and down his dick.

"No niceties, pet. Get me off so I can go
back to sleep."

In response, she took one of his balls in
her mouth, gently tonguing it, letting it go, and moving to the
other one. Kev wrapped a hand in her hair and pulled. "Do I need to
instruct you?"

"No, sir! I’m sorry!" Her tongue moved from
his balls to the base of his erection, and began to slide up and
down with a few firm caresses. Leaning on his pelvis with one hand,
she moved her other hand to his testicles and massaged in tempo
with her wet tongue. Sure strokes led her to the head of his dick
and she rimmed the hole there, tasting the drop of semen he
produced. His hand tightened in her hair and he pushed her head
down. He could hear her indrawn breath as she took him into her
mouth, her tongue vibrating down the length of him as the head of
his cock found the back of her throat. Hand in her hair, Kev kept
her there, enjoying the heat of her mouth and the pressure of her
throat against the head of his cock. Eventually, though, she needed
to breathe. Kev counted to three and let her head up. She gasped,
but wrapped her tongue around the head of his penis. Once more, he
pushed her head down, but let it up more quickly, allowing her to
build a rhythm for a time.

His balls, cool from the evaporation of her
saliva, began to feel heavy. His hips began to itch with the urge
to begin thrusting, rather than holding still and allowing her to
continue to suck him without fucking her face outright. The warmth
of her mouth and her quick tongue stole all of his attention. Her
silky hair in his hand was a handle on her head, a way to increase
or decrease the tempo or the depth of her movements. As the
sensations magnified, he pressed her down again and held her until
she began to struggle, finally letting her up again to gasp
precious air into her lungs. Faster and faster she sucked on him,
and he tilted his hips and pressed the back of her head to allow
the head of his dick to slam into her throat. Her fingers
encouraged his balls to surge, his dick was anxious, but Kev didn’t
want to let go…not quite yet. For the last time, he pressed Renee’s
head down against him, holding her there several seconds until he
could wait no longer. As his first blast shot into the girl’s
throat, his hips thrust forward, bowing his back with a pleasure
that rolled on, pulse after draining pulse. She swallowed
convulsively and he allowed her to breathe as he came. His low moan
was comment enough.

She laid her forehead on his hip as she
gasped and recovered. But two minutes later, she rose to get a
cloth and wash him off. The warm blanket of terry was good against
his satisfied flesh. Sleep, elusive for a brief time, now stole
over him. It was awfully good to be home.

* * *

Unable to go back to sleep, Renee lay on her
pallet, thinking about Kevin and wondering how things had gotten to
this point. She knew his birthday was coming up, and it was natural
that he’d want to do something special for himself. He didn’t have
much family to celebrate with him—just his younger sister—so Renee
was pretty much it.

It reminded her of the worst birthday of her
life. She was turning eighteen, and her long-suffering father—a
single parent—lectured her on her behavior. She was now an adult,
he’d said, and she needed to comport herself better. Her wild
dating of "bad boys" and running around on the back of a
motorcycle, occasionally using recreational drugs and, somewhat
less frequently, getting in trouble with the law, had to stop. He
told her to get control of herself, to grow up and take
responsibility for her actions and her life. It was an
uncomfortable day, both of them saying things they regretted
later.

To some extent though, she listened. She
respected her father. He was a strong man with massive
self-discipline, and he’d tried to instill that discipline in
Renee, mostly unsuccessfully. Her schoolwork had been excellent
enough to get her into college at the tender age of sixteen; to
that she’d applied herself. But she didn’t have goals in her life.
She was racking up a long list of potential regrets and not much
else.

Around that time, she met Tom. Tom was the
brother of her best friend, and the only comment her friend would
make about him was to roll her eyes and warn that he was kinky.
Whatever that meant. But the idea was alluring, so Renee accepted
his invitation to a lingerie party and got an eye-popping glimpse
of the wild side. The lingerie part of the evening was nothing. She
was no stranger to the concept and could dress appropriately. But
the dominance games, the submissive responses, these were new.

He was a pleasant companion, well-respected
among his friends—who were many—and seen as one of the dominant
males of the group. Women begged him on their knees to pay
attention to them. But his eyes were focused on Renee that evening.
She was fascinated by the control these dominant men exerted over
the submissive women, and how much the women were gratified by
it.

By the second party, Renee was hooked. She
was sleeping with Tom by that point—self-control was still a vague
concept for her—and was learning to like the thrill of being tied
to his bed and teased. Even the pain of nipple clamps was more
stimulation than anything else. Occasionally, it made her wonder
about herself, but she was not particularly introspective at that
time and so she accepted her increasing desire for pain leading to
pleasure.

The first public spanking was humiliating,
humbling and exciting. Tom was strong and capable. Her bottom got
hot and red, her pussy wet and ready. He fucked her right there, in
front of a room full of people.

As she lay there, years later, at the foot
of her Master’s bed, she realized that that moment in her life was
when she realized that she’d let someone else take charge and
control her through the judicious application of pain. But, at the
same time, there was no purpose save sex with Tom. He was not
trying to teach her self-restraint or better comportment. It was a
means to an end for him, the end being hot, steamy sex.

She stayed with him for two years, learning
a lot of basic submissive principles: postures, behaviors,
responses, equipment. Masochism became a part of her sexuality, but
Tom’s dominance was shallow and reserved for the bedroom. It was
unsatisfying, and, in fact, in many ways detrimental because her
need for self-control was never addressed. She tried to learn
self-discipline, but it was elusive.

After a while, dissatisfied and somewhat
jaded, she’d broken from Tom. She tried to find someone who was
strong, disciplined, and a good influence on her. She got through
school, but couldn’t find the right person. Until she met
Kevin.

Kevin imposed discipline from the outside,
and she learned self-discipline as a result. His sadism was new to
her at first, but it was not shallow and involved an emotional
component she’d never experienced before. She came to crave the
bright sensation and the release from guilt, from regrets and
recriminations that it provided. If she misbehaved, she was
punished. The conflict was over. Even if she behaved well, he made
her understand viscerally that she was his creature, one he
respected and cared for in his own way. She needed him.

Reverently, she touched the bracelet on her
wrist. Although she couldn't see them in the dark, the cool stones
were there, a part of her life now, as Kevin was. His gift had been
generous in the extreme, and he'd accepted the comparative trinket
she'd given him—a first edition book from a favored author—with
good grace. Kevin was a bright joy in her life and no emeralds
could hold a candle to her adoration.

The idea of a permanent new girl in the
household was a bit frightening, but at the same time, it had
appeal. Having a feminine companion was attractive, in more ways
than merely to share the chores. Renee was bisexual; something
she’d discovered in high school. Kevin would bring another woman
home for a threesome infrequently, leaving Renee craving
woman-flesh more often than she’d like. She hoped the new
girl—Amiko—was of a similar bent.

Well, only time would tell how it played
out. Kevin seemed inclined to go for it, and he was not usually one
who changed his mind easily. He'd proven himself many times over
their five years together. Above all, she trusted him. She was his
good girl.

Adjustments

Every new situation requires a period of
adjustment—at least that’s what Renee kept telling herself. It had
only been two weeks, and the Master’s fascination with his new
“toy” had been anticipated by Renee throughout the entire process
of acquisition. Having been a professional counselor for several
years, she knew all the signs and symptoms of jealousy and it
galled her that over the past two weeks she found herself falling
into the predictable pattern like a textbook case.

She fought her impulses, putting on a
smiling face as she dropped the Master at the airport for his trip
to Paris to pick up his new prize. She struggled through the week
he was gone, trying to squelch her desire to phone him each night
at bedtime. When he arrived back home, she welcomed him with open
arms. She welcomed the new girl, Amiko, too, but it took somewhat
more of an effort.