Authors: Bridget Midway
Taren went to the fridge and pulled out cream. She placed it on the table. Then she found a small sugar bowl that she hadn’t seen prior to that day. She placed that on the table.
Rock poured the milk and scooped a couple of spoonfuls of sugar into his coffee. He took a sip and nodded. Great. One obstacle down.
“Kneel beside me.” Rock pointed to the floor next to him.
Jace had done the same thing when they’d eaten dinner, only he provided her with a pillow. Rock let her rest her knees on the hard tile floor. At least she knew better than to make food for herself.
“Now that I’m not reading, what questions did you have for me?” He cut a piece of his eggs and ate it.
“I need to know how the show managed all this. I cleaned this kitchen from top to bottom before filming and never saw any of these dated appliances.” Taren scanned the kitchen.
“Prior to filming, the producers asked us what we would all do if we made it to this episode.” Rock adjusted his tie. “I’m assuming that they did a lot of shopping at thrift stores and eBay.”
“What is it that you do?” She didn’t know if she could look at him or keep her stare straight ahead.
“I own a trash collection company. Not very exciting, but it allows me to get that new washing machine that you’ve always wanted.” He stroked her head like a pet and continued eating.
She smiled cordially. “How is your breakfast?”
“Okay. I would have liked my bacon a little crisper. My toast is a little overdone. And my eggs have been cooked too long.”
Taren didn’t know why she felt nervous all the sudden. “I’m sorry. I tried.”
“Not hard enough.” Rock pushed back from the table. “Come on. Come across my lap.”
Shit, he was serious about the punishment.
Taren stood from the floor. She walked to him and stretched herself across his lap. When she felt her dress being hiked up, she held onto the leg of the chair. He didn’t pull her panties down, not that he could. No way could he maneuver through that fortress.
“Count out the spanks.” He hit her cheeks five times in various spots.
Taren counted each one of the hits, and loved each one. The stings resonated through her body like her own fireworks show. Thankfully her cone bra kept her hardened nipples strapped down. Even though the punishment came from Master Rock, Taren only thought of Jace. She even compared Rock’s spanking technique to Jace’s. Jace had Rock beat.
After breakfast, Taren cleaned up the kitchen. Rock made her clean the downstairs as well, which meant vacuuming using a dated cleaner, scrubbing the floors on her hands and knees, and cleaning the windows. After each job, he did an inspection. After each inspection, he found something that required punishment.
After a while, Taren started to do things on purpose in order to get spanked. They went to the farmer’s market for produce. Instead of apples, she purposely picked up pears. He saved that spanking for home. Although they pretended they lived during the 50’s, in this day and age where everyone had a cell phone with a camera, no need to get their kinky life on video for the world to see. At least not yet.
When they returned to the house with camera crew in tow, Master Rock made Taren undress him and get out his clothes to relax by the pool.
Taren tried hard not to look at his body. He made it impossible. The definition in his abs had her wishing for some chocolate or caramel to lick off him. He had broad shoulders that would have been perfect for a woman to hold, especially during sex. Each time she had that thought, she immediately implanted Jace in her mind.
Master Rock had a great body, but Jace’s had been better. Rock smelled like expensive cologne. Jace smelled like a true man.
Taren folded his clothes, then helped him put on shorts and a button-down, short-sleeved striped shirt. Coupled with some loafers, he looked ready for a dated soiree.
“Thank you.” He kissed her forehead. “I’ll take my drink out by the pool. A martini.”
Damn. Sure, Taren had heard of the drink and even had a few appletinis in her day, but she’d never made one before.
“I want meatloaf, mashed potatoes, and string beans for dinner with rolls. You can surprise me with dessert.” He patted her backside before exiting the room.
“Jesus. Not a simple spank job.” Taren had a lot of work to do.
Luckily, she liked cooking. She followed Rock outside where she found him lounging in a chair under a huge umbrella and the other two contestants and their slaves at the other side of the pool.
Taren made the mistake of making eye contact with Jace. He carried a look of concern as she rushed over to the bar area. She pulled out vodka but didn’t know what else needed to go in it. She did find olives.
“Need help?”
To hear Jace’s voice lifted her spirits. Her stomach quivered in excitement. She gazed up at him and hoped she didn’t look too harried.
“I’ve never made a martini before.” She set the traditional martini glass on the bar.
“It’s easy.” Jace placed a shaker container next to the martini glass. “It’s vodka, so you got that right. Vermouth and olives unless he wants a lemon twist. Did he say? Does he want it dirty?”
“I think he likes everything dirty.” She snickered.
“Taren, where’s my drink?” Rock called from his chair. He glared at her, ignoring Jace completely.
“Coming.” She poured some vodka in the shaker.
“I’ll leave you to this.” He started to walk away when he stopped and came back to her. “By the way, you always looked gorgeous, but I think I’d rather have you natural and scrubbed up.”
She smiled as she poured the vermouth into the container. She dumped some ice in it as well before she shook it up. She did remember that from the James Bond movies. Shaken, not stirred.
Taren poured the drink into a martini glass, then adorned it with two olives pierced with a toothpick. She went to Rock and handed him the drink. Since she knew she had a lot of work to do in the kitchen, she started to leave when Master Rock grabbed her hand to stop her.
“Don’t leave until I taste this first.”
Taren nodded and stood back as she watched him take a sip.
He nodded. “Good. With practice, you’ll get better.” He picked up a magazine. “Now you may be excused.”
“Thank you, sir.” Taren couldn’t decide if she liked this lifestyle or not.
She didn’t feel she had a voice. If she wanted to live this way with Rock or any Dom she chose, she would be on board with it.
Taren went through the kitchen like a whirlwind. From memory, she created the meatloaf mixture and got it in the oven to bake. Then she peeled potatoes for the mashed potatoes. No canned or frozen green beans existed in the house. She found a bag of fresh green beans in the refrigerator. Like she’d seen her grandmother do a million times, Taren got a bowl out and start snapping the ends of the beans off and breaking them in half before dumping them into a bowl. She put them in a pot of water on the stove.
For dessert, she decided to go the box cake route. Luckily she found one in the cabinet along with some frosting. When her hand brushed against a can of sliced pineapple and she spotted a can of maraschino cherries, her mind switched gears. She would make a pineapple upside down cake.
Once she had everything prepared and cooking, she set the dining room table, figuring Master Rock would want to eat there. Then she went back out to the pool area to check on him. He continued reading his book, a collection of poetry by Allen Ginsberg.
“Sorry to disturb you, sir. I wanted to see if you needed another drink or anything else.” As soon as she figured out the protocol, she got into this routine.
This time Master Rock did lower his book. “I could use another drink.”
She picked up his glass and took it to the bar area. She made him another martini and returned it to him. This time she waited until he took a sip.
“Better. You’re learning.”
Taren almost thought she caught him smiling. She didn’t revel in her small accomplishment. She returned to the kitchen to make sure she didn’t fuck up the meal.
She hadn’t. Everything came out perfectly and right on time. As soon as she placed the last dish on the table, Master Rock walked into the kitchen.
“Dinner is served, sir.” She presented the meal. “Would you like your drink brought in here?”
He took a seat at the table. “No, tea is fine.”
Taren poured him a glass of tea, then served him his dinner. Like she had at breakfast, she lowered herself to her knees beside him.
“Please join me.” Rock pointed to the chair opposite him. “Get a plate and sit with me.”
Taren nodded and stood. She rushed to the kitchen to get herself a plate, utensils, a glass, and a napkin. When she returned, she noticed Rock hadn’t eaten any of the food.
“You don’t like what I’ve prepared, sir?” She continued standing to hear his reaction.
“I was waiting for you.” He stared at her. “I’ve been waiting for someone like you.”
Taren tried to hide her smile as she took a seat. Master Rock served her food, giving her portions he felt would be appropriate for her. He surprised her when he held her hand, lowered his head and prayed. She never expected a Dom to be rooted in religion.
“I bet you were surprised by this scenario, huh?” Master Rock ate some of his meatloaf and nodded his head.
“I was, actually. I’ve never heard of this as being a part of the lifestyle.” She took a bite of her creation and had to agree. It tasted fantastic.
“Another Dom introduced me to this type of play. I thought it was ridiculous until I noticed the normalcy within the fantasy. Isn’t that what we all want, to be seen as normal when the rest of the world calls us freaks?” He slathered butter on his roll before taking a bite.
“I suppose. For me, today was about getting into a routine and sticking with it. It was great to be seen as worthy.” Strange that she would have felt that way from today’s events.
After dinner, Taren cleaned off the table and brought in dessert. Master Rock’s face lit up as soon as he saw the cake with the rows of circular pineapple and cherries plopped in the middle of each.
“I was hoping that that was what I smelled.” He rubbed his hands together.
“Let me not keep you waiting.” She cut off a piece and handed it to him. Then she cut a small piece for herself.
After one bite, she had to pat herself on the back again. Another winner.
After dessert, Taren cleaned the kitchen in time for the remaining four in the house to have their own dinner.
“So now what? Does that end our day?” Taren couldn’t wait to get out of the shoes.
For everything she’d done that day, she’d worn the heels. Plus the restricting underwear had to go.
“Shoulder massage would be nice.” He took her hand and led her to his room instead of an open area.
Rock sat on his bed while Taren had to climb on it to massage his shoulders.
“Do you do this a lot with other submissives and slaves?” Taren kneaded his shoulders with her hands, rubbing his tough flesh until she heard him groaning.
“No. I haven’t found anyone worthy or willing to do this.” He stretched his back by arching it. “Thank you for indulging me.”
“I thought it was strange when it first started, especially with this getup. But now I think it’s not so bad. I kind of got into the spankings.” Taren laughed.
“I could tell. No way could you mistake a pear for an apple.” Rock tapped her hand, but held onto it for longer than Taren thought he should. “If I hadn’t had anything to drink, we would have done more tonight.”
“More?”
Rock nodded. “I would have had you relieve me.” Before she could ask, he filled in the necessary blanks. “Either oral sex or a hand job.” He turned.
He had his face a few inches from hers. Taren couldn’t speak. Although she found Master Rock attractive, she didn’t want to cross that line with him like she had with Jace.
“Good night, Taren.” He stood and moved away from her.
She climbed off his bed. “Good night, Master Rock.”
As soon as she left his room, she heard Kitty screaming, “Cut.” Taren did her obligatory follow-up interview to talk about the day. Then she disappeared into her bedroom. It had been an interesting day. She couldn’t wait to see what she had in store for the next day.
****
Taren knew today would be weird when her glam squad put in her a robe, no makeup, and practically prayed for her before she went downstairs. She knew she would be with Fear. She had no idea what he planned to do with her.
Taren padded down the stairs with the cameras on her every move. Like a grim reaper, Macabre, in a long cloak with a hood, pointed to the direction of the dungeon. Taren took hesitant steps to the place that would either give her great pleasure, great pain, or both.
Fear stood in the middle of the room. Taren didn’t see Solo. That didn’t mean she didn’t have a role in today’s events.
“Good morning, sir.” Taren bowed her head.
“It’s morning. Not sure how good it’ll be for you.” He approached her.
Due to his menacing stare and his stomping gait, she stumbled back before he caught her by her robe sash. “Ever heard of predicament bondage?”
Taren shook her head. “Doesn’t sound fun.”
Fear untied her sash and opened her robe. “Depends on your definition of fun.” He grabbed her arm and pulled her to the center of the room. “Predicament bondage is when a submissive or slave is forced to choose between two uncomfortable options. You’re going to be tested and pushed today. I hope you’re ready.”
Taren hoped so, too. Today’s events didn’t sound fun. Fear put a blindfold on Taren, then cuffed her hands behind her back and locked the cuffs together, which surprised her considering she heard him lowering the hoist. If not for her hands, then what?
She heard small chains clinking around in front of her and overhead. Fear grabbed her breast roughly, massaging it like he would a stress ball. Before Taren knew it, she felt a pinching sensation on her nipple.
“Breathe. Settle into it.” Fear didn’t touch her as he gave her the directives.
Taren felt the pain spreading around the one side of her body. Once she got used to it, Fear worked on her other breast, grabbing it, kneading it, before affixing another nipple clamp on her.