One True Master (Desire Island 1) - Page 16

He clicked the remote to off and moved to quickly release the harness. He pulled the phalluses carefully from her body and dropped them in the washbowl. Finally, he helped her to stand upright and released her wrists, holding her arms as he brought them down to her sides.

She opened her eyes, still breathing hard. “Whew,” she said, pushing back the hair from her face with both hands. “That was intense.”

“It was,” Caelan agreed. “And you took it really well—for the most part.”

She looked up at him, confusion on her face. “For the most part?” she repeated.

“Yes. All the way to that last stroke. You came, didn’t you?”

“Yes,” she breathed, her expression suffusing with pleasure. “It was amazing.”

He nodded, letting his dismay show in his expression. “Unfortunately, it was also without express permission.” He watched her dawning understanding with restrained amusement. She seemed to have totally forgotten that rather important directive.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted. “I just—”

He stopped her mid-sentence, placing two fingers against her lips. It was definitely early on in the training process, but with only a week to work with her, he would have to pounce on every infraction. “No excuses. Even though it’s only your first day, the rules still apply. I’m afraid you’ll have to be punished.”

Chapter 5

Punished.

The word echoed in Skylar’s mind. In spite of the powerful, thrilling orgasm Master Caelan had just wrested from her and the lovely hot sting from that difficult but wonderful whipping, just the word sent another zing of arousal directly to Skylar’s clit.

In the dark romances she so loved to read, the subs were always getting punished by their gorgeous Doms. Her favorite was when the Master would bend the lovely, naked slave girl over his muscular thighs and smack her ass until she was in tears. But not the messy, snotty, puffy-eyed tears of real life. No, in the novels, the heroine’s eyes remain luminous and clear, her breathy little cries sending electric sparks directly to her lover’s cock. Spanking over, all forgiven, he takes her into his arms and kisses the pretty tears away as he lays her gently on the bed…

Master Caelan’s voice jerked Skylar from her fantasy. “Before I punish you, let’s examine those welts. You took a substantial whipping. I’m pleased with your ability to handle erotic pain.”

Warmth suffused Skylar at this praise. “Thank you, Sir.” She glanced back at herself in the mirror, thrilled with the pretty pink stripes he’d painted so symmetrically on her ass, one above the other in parallel lines. The guy clearly knew his way around a whip.

“Come into the bathroom for some aftercare.”

Skylar followed him into the small bathroom, which contained a single sink, a bathtub and a toilet. There was barely room for the two of them, with Master Caelan being so big. “Did you play football in college, Sir?” she asked, curious.

Master Caelan pulled a tube of Arnica from the cabinet beneath the sink. He regarded Skylar with a raised eyebrow. “Perhaps I neglected to mention it before, but while you’re in training, which is whenever you’re with me, you will remain in slave mode. That means you don’t speak unless you have express permission to do so. While in training, you are property—my property. If you have something relevant to say, you must first ask permission to say it. Once granted, then you may speak.”

“Yes, Sir,” she replied, chastened. She had known that rule about asking permission to speak—she’d just forgotten. But it was his other words that resonated in her being. Property. Though her mind rejected the word, her body and her heart melted with lust and longing at the thought of being truly owned and cherished by another.

But then the tiniest quirk of a smile lifted one side of his mouth as he added, “I never played football past what they forced on us in middle school. I didn’t think the risk of a brain injury due to repetitive head trauma was worth the fun of rolling around in the mud with a bunch of pubescent boys.”

Skylar laughed, enchanted with this enigmatic man, who could be both stern and playful within the span of a moment.

She sighed with pleasure as he rubbed the soothing balm over her welts. She liked his touch, both gentle and assured. She liked his smell—part fine leather, part Bay Rum. She had the sudden crazy urge to turn around and kiss him. Of course, she didn’t dare.

“Now, for your punishment,” he announced, placing his hand on the back of her neck.

A shiver of anticipation moved through Skylar’s loins. Would she be able to tolerate a spanking on her welted ass? Where would he sit so she could drape herself sexily over his lap?

He guided her back into the room and toward the wardrobe. Opening the doors, he rummaged a moment and then pulled out something, which he held toward her. She saw, to her dismay, a clear, silicone butt plug. The thing was huge—quite a bit thicker than the slender vibrator he’d used on her before. He stripped away the sterile wrapping from the plug and turned toward her.

Tags: Claire Thompson Desire Island Erotic
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