Alex’s cunt moistened at the mention of being marked. In her fantasies, her lord and Master would mark her each day, just as Daniel was describing. When she’d lived briefly with the man she had hoped would become her fulltime Dom, she’d asked him to mark her, but he only used his hand. Its imprint faded after only a few minutes. He’d seemed almost annoyed by what to her would have been an erotic, meaningful ritual, and after awhile she’d stopped asking.
Daniel was staring at her pointedly and Alex quickly put her hands behind her head, spreading her legs as she fixed her eyes on the clock. Daniel nodded and moved very close to her so she could feel his warm breath on her cheek as he bent down. He ran his finger under her arm. “When did you shave last?”
“Yesterday morning,” she answered, suddenly self-conscious. Kneeling, he ran his fingers lightly over her calf. He stood, cupping her bare mons in his hand. She blushed as his fingers slid over her outer labia.
“Not good enough,” he announced. “You’ll need to shower and groom yourself properly before Liam gets home. He likes his subs smooth.”
Alex nodded, thoroughly embarrassed.
“Have you had breakfast?” Daniel asked.
“Breakfast?” she repeated, not having expected the question.
“Yeah. You know, food you eat in the morning?” He grinned.
“Uh, no, actually. I was a little wound up, I guess. I had some coffee a couple of hours ago.” Alex was hungry and could definitely go for another cup of coffee. “Is that an offer?” she asked hopefully.
“It is. I’ve got some banana muffins left over from Liam’s breakfast. I’ll brew a pot of coffee and we can sit and talk a little more before you get started on your day’s chores. Come on.”
“Daniel?”
“Yes?” He paused in the doorway and turned to look at her.
“Can I put something on? I don’t have to stay naked all the time, do I?”
He seemed to ponder the question. Finally he grinned and said, “No, I guess not. Though I do like looking at your breasts. They are a thing of beauty.” Alex’s face warmed with embarrassed pleasure. Perhaps the guy wasn’t entirely gay after all.
“You can wear a tank top if you have one and some shorts. Don’t bother with underwear or a bra. I’ll see you in the kitchen.”
Alex selected a yellow tank top and pulled it on, along with a pair of cut-off jeans shorts. On her way to the kitchen, she passed the large master bedroom and another room, its door closed. Unable to resist, she turned the knob, pushed the door open and peeked in.
She stood open-mouthed as she stared into what looked like a medieval torture chamber. She recognized the toys—a St. Andrew’s Cross in one corner, its cuffs dangling invitingly, a large selection of whips hung by varying size and type on hooks along one wall and an exam table, leather straps waiting to be buckled and tightened over a naked body.
One wall was lined with mirrors and there was what looked like a ballet dancer’s bar set into it. In another corner there was an exercise bicycle and some free weights. She wanted to linger, to see what was in the large chest beneath the whips, but she didn’t dare. Instead, She closed the door quietly and went downstairs.
She entered the kitchen. “Can I help you?” she asked.
Daniel was placing a small pitcher of cream on the table next to a napkin-lined bowl of delicious-looking muffins. The table was nestled in a breakfast nook, the walls of which had floor-to-ceiling windows. “No, the coffee’s just about ready. Have a seat and help yourself.” He waved toward the table.
The room was large, with green-tinted glass cabinets filled with neatly stacked china. Copper pots hung from an iron trestle over a wooden island, into which a sink had been set. A bowl of potatoes, already peeled and resting in water, sat next to a large white onion and a cluster of garlic cloves.
Following Alex’s gaze, Daniel said, “I’m making clam chowder for dinner. We got some great fresh clams yesterday down at Dudley’s Wharf where the shell fishermen come in. You can help me chop the vegetables if you get done with your other jobs in time.”
“About that,” Alex said slowly. “I’m not much of a housekeeper. I hadn’t really planned on chores as a part of my training…” She trailed off as Daniel furrowed his brows at her.
“You can’t be serious,” he finally said. “What did you expect? To come here and be waited on hand and foot? You’re training to be a sub, for god’s sake. This is, for this week at least, your Master’s house. While you’re in our house, you’ll live by our rules. We don’t have a maid. I keep the house and I take great pride in doing it. Liam is to have a lovely, clean home when he gets back from a long day. If you think you’re going to sit around eating bon bons and watching soap operas while I’m scrubbing floors—”