To Seek a Master (7 page)

She cried out when she started to come, her fingers locked in his hair as her orgasm swept through her, only for him to pull sharply back a moment later. For one awful moment she thought they’d been caught, only to find herself gripped hard in his arms, twisted around, bundled over the bonnet of the car, her knickers jerked low and his cock eased into her from behind. The next instant he was thrusting himself into her with all his force, to leave her panting and clutching at the paintwork in exactly the sort of helpless ecstasy she had always craved.

6

LAURA WAS SINGING
as she drove back towards Cambridge. The encounter had been everything she could have hoped for and, unlike so many men, Chris Drake had known how to treat her afterwards, with a cuddle and assurances that there would be a next time. Despite his enthusiasm she’d made a conscious effort not to push too hard and risk scaring him away. He had been the one to suggest meeting up on Sunday, and had been keen to come to King’s Lynn.

She already felt that she was more than a little in love with him, and everything else now seemed completely trivial, including the mysterious messages. When she got back she was obliged to clear her agreement with Mr Henderson and log the new order in, along with the necessary changes to the original one. That proved more complicated than she’d anticipated, and by the time she got back from production it was after four o’clock. All the while she’d been thinking of Chris and what they’d done together, so she was on automatic as she logged on and brought her email messages up, only to come suddenly alert as she saw the now familiar address.

Nothing had been said, but now that she’d got to know Chris she was certain he could not be the Controller, despite his enjoyment of the way she’d been dressed. He was forthright, assertive, but too passionate. The Controller’s calm, reserved authority was very different, and while it might have been equally appealing, it was now no more than a distraction, and potentially an annoying one.

The message was short, just two words.
GOOD GIRL
. Laura paused as she moved to delete the message, biting her lip. Whoever it was, her best bet might now be to let him down gently, telling him she was with somebody else and thus hopefully avoiding any repercussions. Her reply needed to be short and to the point, avoiding any possibility of misinterpretation or keeping his hopes alive, yet polite. Hopefully he was as controlled as he seemed and would accept her verdict.

She typed her message in reply –
I AM SORRY, BUT I HAVE A PARTNER
– and was about to click on the Send button when she realised that there was something peculiar about his message. She’d only been a good girl to one man, and that was Chris Drake. Admittedly she’d put her suspenders on before coming into the factory, but the only person who could possibly have known was Mr Henderson, and he was his normal, businesslike self. She tried to tell herself it no longer mattered, but her curiosity was too strong. Could it have been somebody in the car pool, even one of the staff at Pretty Things? Both suggestions were ridiculous. It had to be Mr Henderson.

Laura turned her chair to him, determined to have it out once and for all, but found herself unable to speak. His calm, serious face made the idea of effectively accusing him of making improper advances an impossibility, besides which he would undoubtedly deny it and she would just end up feeling silly. He had noticed her attention and looked up.

‘If you have nothing particular to do, Laura, you can go home. An early start to the weekend is the least you deserve.’

‘Thank you, Mr Henderson.’

She deleted the message she had been about to send, now sure that if she left the mystery unsolved it would nag at her mind for months, if not years.

Mr Henderson had only given her an extra half-hour or so, but she put it to good use, calling in at Pretty Things again, but
this
time to buy a set of black silk camiknickers and matching bra, a treat both for herself and for Chris, who had made it very clear that he preferred her clothing disarranged rather than right off. He’d also made it clear that he liked the idea of being seen, which she found both frightening and exciting. Not that anybody had caught them, but they’d been right out in the open and another couple might easily have driven past, or worse, a logging crew, which really would have been embarrassing, too much so for reality, if not fantasy.

She buried herself in her book on the way home, once more enjoying the story now that she was sure none of her fellow commuters were spying on her. There was even another spanking scene, this time with a buxom Turkish girl turned over the knee of Mustapha bin Yunus, the villainous white slaver who had agreed to buy Evangeline from Lord Jasper. It was quite detailed, describing the unfortunate girl’s bottom as a magnificent amber peach, wriggling in her struggles of desperation, a phrase that made Laura chuckle, then smile. An idea had occurred to her.

Saturday was spent tidying her flat, messing it up again in case he thought she was too fussy, and an attempt at some impromptu Feng Shui designed to give the impression of a casual, Bohemian lifestyle she felt might seem appropriate for the sort of girl who liked to be thrown over the bonnet of a car and rogered from behind or, better still, spanked.

It was an alarming prospect, for several reasons. The worst case scenario would be if, when she had finally managed to get the hint across, he didn’t dish out a spanking but a lecture on human dignity and inappropriate sexual behaviour. That didn’t seem very likely, judging by the way he’d behaved on the plantation, which meant she might succeed and end up having to cope with the pain and indignity that turned her on
so
strongly in her fantasies but might be very different in real life.

By the Sunday morning she was finding excuses not to go through with her plan, even to cancel their date, while she was convinced he’d be put off by her flat, either because it was too neat and tidy or too messy. Smudge was also a problem, apt to want attention at inappropriate moments and too big to be easily ignored. In the end she put him out into the tiny yard behind the house, assuaging her guilt by promising him the bone from the rib of beef she’d bought at the farmer’s market. That left the flat dog free, but either a mess or not a mess, depending on his perspective.

As it was, he took no notice whatsoever, arriving half-an-hour earlier than he’d said he would, plonking himself down on her sofa and asking if she had any wine in the fridge. Laura obliged, selecting one of the four bottles she’d put in just in case – along with three brands of beer, a local organic cider and various mixers – and serving it to him before pouring her own glass. He took a couple of reflective sips and then began to talk, as casually as if he’d known her for years, with no hint of the tension she’d been suffering from since the moment they parted.

Gradually Laura relaxed, grateful for his casual manner. To let him take her to bed would be easy, effortless in fact. She considered postponing her attempt to get something more, but the idea brought such a sharp pang of disappointment that she abandoned it immediately.

Lunch was carefully planned, set early to ensure there’d be plenty of time to digest before an afternoon hopefully spent half naked in the bedroom with a red bottom, but his early arrival meant that she had to put the joint in the oven before they’d finished their first glass of wine. As she busied herself rolling potatoes in the minimum possible quantity of fat his voice carried through from the living room.

‘What are we having?’

‘Roast beef.’

‘Delicious. Will you be in and out of the kitchen all the time, or can you spare a little for me?’

It seemed a peculiar question, but Laura answered anyway.

‘Just let me get the meat in.’

‘That can be arranged.’

She found herself blushing as she realised what she’d said and didn’t reply but quickly finished her task before going back into the living room. He sat as before, sprawled comfortably on the sofa with his long limbs spread out, except that he now had his jeans open and his cock and balls bulging from the fly. Laura stopped, at once thrilled and disgusted, amazed that he could be so rude but unable to deny her instinctive reaction. It was also just the sort of thing Tommy Fuller would have done to her, expecting sex without the slightest attempt at seduction first, pulling his cock out and demanding it attended to in a way that no weaker man would have dared.

Chris Drake was the same, grinning as he waited, completely sure of himself and rightly so. Laura swallowed, managed a weak nod and got down on her knees, still in her apron as she crawled across to him on all fours. He gave a knowing chuckle and slid himself a little further down the sofa, opening his long thighs to make himself available to her mouth. She reached him, her excitement rising fast as she took in the faint but heady scent of cock mingled with some masculine body product. He looked at her, amused, but also appreciative as he spoke.

‘I’d like your breasts bare.’

‘Of course.’

Laura’s hands went behind her back to the bow of her apron, but he wagged a finger at her.

‘No. Leave that on. In fact, yes, take everything else off except that, and you can stay that way.’

A shiver ran the length of Laura’s spine as she pictured herself cooking for him with nothing on but her apron, her bare bottom showing as she worked, at the stove, and on his cock. She knelt up and began to strip, too urgent to think of making a show for him, but he didn’t seem to care, watching with that same boyish grin and stroking his balls and cock in an absentminded fashion.

She quickly had her top and bra off, kicked off her shoes and stood to get out of her skirt. His smile grew broader as her black silk camiknickers came on show, and she hesitated, wondering if he’d like her to keep them on. Her enquiring glance was met with a shake of his head.

‘No, no, off they come, but you can keep your stockings.’

Laura nodded, fumbling her knickers down and stepping free to leave herself to all intents and purposes naked; nothing concealed from his gaze, or his touch. There was still some embarrassment at being so exposed, and she was glad to get her apron back on, leaving her concealed at the front, if hardly decent, but bare behind. Chris chuckled.

‘That is a beautiful sight. Now down you go.’

She obeyed without hesitation, falling quickly to her knees, then to all fours. As she got down she felt her breasts loll forward beneath her apron and she knew he could see them, her bottom too. She nuzzled her face against his cock and balls, revelling in the feel of warm male flesh, before taking him into her mouth. He sighed, his hand closing in her hair to dictate the rhythm of her sucking as she got to work.

His cock immediately began to swell in her mouth, a sensation she had always adored and made all the better by the fantasy developing in her head. To be kneeling at his feet in nothing but her stockings and a cooking apron was good, but
it
would have been better still if she’d been spanked first, not as a sexy game, but as a punishment for some minor fault.

She moved forwards a little, making herself comfortable between his thighs so that she could play with his balls while she sucked. He was getting hard, and starting to push up into her mouth in his rising excitement, while the grip in her hair had tightened, keeping her firmly in place. She let her imagination run, playing the scene over in her head, how she’d be told off, maybe for refusing to work stripped, put across his knee, her knickers taken down and her bottom smacked hard. Once he was finished with her she’d be made to strip anyway and set to work in the nude but for her apron and stockings, only to discover that punishing her had turned him on, and being held by her hair as she was made to suck him off.

He was getting there far too quickly, already groaning and pushing himself deep, while Laura had hoped to carry on to the point at which she could no longer resist slipping a hand back between her legs. She tried to slow down, lifting from his now solid shaft to tease his balls and the underside of his cock with her tongue, but he quickly lost patience.

‘Come on, Laura, in it goes.’

Being obedient to him felt too good to allow her to resist and she took him back in her mouth, still trying to take it slowly. He wasn’t having it, holding her firmly by the hair as he fucked her mouth. Laura let her hand go back, feeling more than a little used and not sure if that was a reason for resentment or the perfect thing to come over. After all, if he’d spanked her and forced her to suck him off he’d hardly worry about her pleasure.

A powerful shudder ran through her at the thought, but before she could focus on her fantasy his cock jerked in her mouth. She did her best to swallow, still rubbing at her sex as she imagined having him come in her mouth as the final
indignity
of her ordeal, but he’d quickly pulled her head up, gasping as he spoke.

‘Stop, stop, that’s too much, Laura … too sensitive. Oh, but you are good.’

She nodded and rocked back on her heels, eager to show him just how excited he had made her, but his eyes were closed as he spoke again.

‘So good. Now, how about another glass of wine, darling?’

Laura stopped, her feelings a mess. It felt good to be controlled, but she needed at least some attention. Yet she knew that the longer she held off the better it would be and so reluctantly complied, returning to the kitchen to tidy herself up and retrieve the bottle from the fridge.

An hour later she was glad for her choice. Being in nothing but apron and stockings had kept her arousal high all the while, especially once he’d come into the kitchen to talk to her while she cooked the vegetables, sitting at his ease while his eyes caressed her bare bottom. She ate naked but for her stockings, constantly aware of her exposed breasts as her need rose and the level in the second wine bottle fell. By the time they had finished she was drunk and her inhibitions had gone completely.

They snuggled up on the sofa, Chris fully dressed, Laura still next to nude. He began to play with her breasts, idly, stroking her skin to feel their shape and teasing her nipples until she’d begun to arch her back. She let her thighs come wide, hoping for a yet more intimate caress, only to realise that if she was going to put her scheme into operation this would be her last chance, and that if she didn’t the coming week would be one of agonising frustration. Twisting around, she reached for her book, which she’d left carefully placed on the lower level of her coffee table.