Freeing Rowan (Masters Club 3)

Newbie jitters. She’ll relax as she gets into her submissive headspace.

He dialed the remote up a notch, indicating with a nod for Jack to do the same for Cleo. Rowan held on, though it was clear she was having a tough time of it. There was a light sheen of sweat on her skin, her face twisted in concentration as the vibrator did its work inside her. In a moment, he would give her permission to climax.

But, before he could speak, all at once, Rowan yelped, jerking back sharply from Cleo in what seemed an involuntary gesture. The sudden tightening at both their nipples had to be quite painful.

A deep shudder moved through Rowan’s body as she cried out breathlessly, “Please, Sir. I’m so sorry, but I can’t. It’s been so long. I haven’t been allowed… Oooooo, god. I’m so, so sorry. I can’t help it!”

With a cry, she doubled over, jerking Cleo, still tethered to her, off-balance. One of the clamps was ripped away by the sudden movement, pulling a cry of pain from both girls.

Of one accord, both men clicked off their remotes and dropped them to the mat. Jack attended to Cleo while Eric removed the remaining clamp from Rowan’s reddened nipples, drawing another small cry from the girl.

A cursory inspection revealed no damage, thank goodness. As he eased the phallus from her trembling body, he soothed, “It’s okay, Rowan. Scene’s over. It’s okay.”

Rowan sank to the floor, hiding her face in her hands.

What was going on here? How had anyone thought this girl was ready for this level of training? Extremely concerned, Eric crouched down and wrapped his arms around the sobbing girl, who hid her face in his chest.

He glanced over at Cleo to see how she was handling the situation. She seemed none the worse for wear, physically speaking, but the concern in her eyes as she regarded the newbie mirrored his own.

“Scene’s over,” he said softly over the girl’s head. “I’m sorry for this. Jack, can you see to Cleo while I care for Rowan?”

“Of course.”

He returned this attention to the girl shaking in his arms. “Please don’t tell him,” she begged. “I didn’t mean to… It’s been so long. Master John will be so angry with me. Please, please don’t tell him.”

Eric stroked the girl’s dark head. “Shh, it’s okay, Rowan. Calm down. No one is telling anybody anything. This is just between us. I don’t expect perfection. That’s why it’s called training.” He lifted his chin toward Jack. “I’ll take it from here. Thanks for all your help.”

As they left the room, Rowan lifted her head. “Really?” she whispered, sudden hope flaring in her large, tear-filled dark eyes. “You don’t have to report to Master John?”

Then her expression crumpled. “You’re being kind, but I suppose you have to tell him eventually,” she said in a defeated tone. Her hand fluttered to the black leather collar around her neck. The word slave was stenciled into the leather in curly font.

“I deserve to be punished,” she whispered, another tear sliding down her cheek.

“I’ll decide when or if you need to be punished, Rowan,” Eric replied, keeping his tone gentle.

The hand moved from her collar to her mouth, her eyes widening. “Oh! Please pardon me, Sir. I didn’t mean… Please excuse this worthless cunt.” Her tone flattened as she said this, as if it were a mantra she’d been forced to learn.

Eric frowned. There were Doms who employed verbal humiliation as a part of their sub’s training, and indeed some submissives who got off on being treated in that way. But it had never sat well with him.

He said nothing, however. Now wasn’t the time.

Getting to his feet, he helped her up from the floor. She hung her head, the wild tumble of her black hair obscuring her face. Placing his hands on her shoulders, he commanded, “Look at me, Rowan.”

The girl raised her gaze to meet his. Her large eyes were so dark it was hard to distinguish the pupil from the iris. Though she was no longer crying, her thick lashes were spiked with tears. She bit her full lower lip, her body trembling beneath his touch.

Reaching into his jeans pocket, he pulled out a fresh tissue and daubed at her cheeks and nose. “Listen, you got off to a rocky start. It’s true. But I’m more concerned about your reaction than the scene itself.”

He put a light hand on her upper back as he guided her toward the door. “Let’s go get you cleaned up and then we can talk.”

They left the training room and headed to an aftercare room located farther down the hall. The space was furnished with a conversational grouping of chairs in one corner, a daybed in the other.

“Lie down here on your back. I’ll be back in a sec.”