“No reason to apologize,” I told her. “I should have made it clear to you. While you are subbing for me, I expect you to address me as you have been—sir. When you arrive, your head should be bowed and your eyes down. You don’t speak until I have addressed you.”
I smile warmly at her.
“In other words, the exact way you have already demonstrated. I probably didn’t mention it because you were already meeting my expectations.”
“And how will you address me?”
“Any way I choose,” I respond. “I may refer to you by your first or last name. I may call you pet or some other term I find suitable. I may call you my bitch or cock-slut if that’s what I want.”
She doesn’t flinch at the words, and I’m glad.
“Would you like to see your room?”
“Yes. Please, sir.”
I lead her down the hall and to the room I’ve prepared. I watch her eyes as she takes it in, and she seems to like what she sees.
“There is a bathroom through that door.” I point to the far side of the room, and Yvette nods. “Everything you need is in there. Shower and put on the clothing I’ve left for you. When you are done, kneel on the rug at the end of the bed and wait for me.”
“Yes, sir.”
I leave her to herself and head to the living room. I put on light classical music at low volume so it isn’t distracting but still adds a little ambiance. I adjust the little rug in front of my easy chair and brush the fibers down with my hand. It should be comfortable enough for kneeling for an extended period of time.
I listen. The sound of water pelting the tile walls of the shower stops. I move quietly to the door of Yvette’s room and listen to her movements on the other side. I hear the hairdryer turn on and off again several times and then hear her footsteps near the bed.
I give her a few more minutes. I want her to have enough time to relax herself and get into the mindset before I enter. When the sounds behind the door cease, I’m sure she’s done and kneeling by the bed. I remove my shirt, toss it over the arm of the couch, and wait another ten minutes before opening the door.
She’s beautiful. The clothing she’d worn earlier had left her body covered, and this is the first chance I’ve had to really see her. Her pale flesh looks smooth, and she has only the faintest tan around her arms and legs, so it doesn’t disrupt the flow of her skin. She’s curved—really curved like a woman should be. She’s small in stature, and it accentuates the lovely shape of her thighs, ass, and breasts. Her arms and legs are toned in lean muscle, and I’m reminded of how well she stayed perfectly still.
Truly exquisite.
The black lingerie creates a stark contrast to her skin as I had hoped it would. The sheer robe leaves some mystery to her, covering her arms and back.
“Follow me,” I command, “on your hands and knees.”
I don’t watch but listen closely to her movements on the floor behind me. I keep my pace steady—not too slow but also not fast enough for her to have to fight to keep up. I’m going to go easy on her, at least in this respect. For now, anyway.
I turn and sit in my easy chair.
“In the refrigerator is a bowl of fruit. Retrieve it, and bring it here.”
I watch her move from the living room to the open kitchen beyond. She holds the bowl in her hands as she walks on her knees back to me and drops her ass to her heels as she positions herself in front of me.
“Put the bowl on the floor beside you,” I instruct. When she does, I stand and move around her. From my pocket, I pull out a long, silk scarf. I twist the black fabric into a smooth strand. “Place your hands behind your back, wrists crossed.”
I loop her wrists in a figure eight with the scarf, tying it neatly at her palms. I admire my work for a moment before returning to the chair. I lean back and spread my legs, placing one foot on either side of her thighs to give her room to work.
“Feed me.”
Yvette glances at the bowl. She licks her lips as she bends at the waist to retrieve a piece of fruit with her mouth. The angle is off, and she has to move the bowl with her chin to get it in the right position. Once she has the bowl where she needs it, she takes a strawberry between her teeth and rises. It isn’t an easy maneuver with her hands bound, but she manages to crawl up into my lap so she can reach me.
“You can look at me,” I tell her, and she moves her bright eyes to mine.
She leans forward with the berry between her lips, and I let the fruit graze my mouth before I open it and take a bite. Our lips touch as I do, and she presses the strawberry farther into my mouth. I take it, opening to her, and our tongues meet for the first time.
I don’t bite again; I just let my tongue move around the berry in her mouth, tasting both at the same time. She’s nearly as sweet as the fruit. When I finally take it from her mouth, she pulls back, and her eyes are bright. I chew slowly and then indicate the bowl with a nod of my head.
“Another.”