“Good girl. You’re so beautiful, darlin’. Have I told you how glad I am that you’re mine?”
“No, but I’m glad too, sir.”
>
“Master. Call me Master Marc. I want to hear my title from you.”
With his hands caressing her breasts and his thick erection nestled against her butt, she found it easier to obey. “Master Marc, I’m glad I’m yours tonight.”
His title fell with ease from her lips, as smooth as the way he leaned her over the padded bench and shackled her arms on each side in cuffs lined with soft padding. The height of the bench left her legs straight, but he didn’t allow her even that small amount of privacy. With his booted foot, he shoved her feet apart before attaching cuffs to her ankles, leaving her immobile and exposed.
“Master?” she asked with a nervous quiver after tugging on the restraints and realizing how secure they were.
“I’m right here, Cassie. I won’t leave your side. You look stunning, darlin’.”
His light caress over her buttocks sent a shiver of longing up her spine before he stepped back. She couldn’t see what he was doing, which seemed to add to her arousal, but heard him unzipping the black bag he had been carrying with him. When he moved behind her again, she held her breath, anxious over what he had planned. Not knowing heightened her awareness of him, his movements, and her vulnerable position.
Bending over, he drew her face up and asked, “You enjoyed my hand on your ass last night, didn’t you?”
“Yes.” It would be ridiculous to deny she got off on spanking after she came apart over his lap, and she liked the approval on his face when she answered him without evasion.
“I think you’ll enjoy this paddle as well.”
He drew back and a sharp smack landed on her right buttock so fast she didn’t have time to assimilate his words, the hot pain drawing a cry of surprise from her. The paddle left a burn covering her entire cheek and just as with his hand, the pain soon turned to pleasure and had her longing for the next swat. It landed with a smart snap on her other cheek, this time the pleasurable pain spreading to her aching sheath.
“What do you think of the paddle?”
Desire for more took her mind off the people milling about, her focus centered on her butt and listening to Master Marc’s deep voice. “Yes, I like it,” she admitted, glad he couldn’t see the bright red blush of mortification spreading over her averted face.
“Good girl. Now ask me for more.”
Oh, God, could she do that? His patient silence accompanied the caressing stroke of his palm over her abused buttock, his light touch pushing her need for more. “Please, sir.”
The paddle landed again, and then again, her breath releasing on a gasp of relief and pleasure. He smacked her with slow, precise swats, raising a fiery burn on her buttocks that had her pussy weeping in response. Cassie bit her lip to keep from crying, her cheeks turning hot, swelling along with her need to feel his cock buried inside her. Soon she lay sobbing, begging for more, not knowing if she wanted more of the paddle or more stimulation for her deprived sheath. When he set the paddle down and ran his hand over her burning buttocks, she almost came right then.
Chuckling, Marc said, “You are a delight, darlin’.”
Basking in his praise, she lifted her hips when she felt his fingers run over the damp folds of her labia then slide between them to caress long neglected, sensitive tissues and nerves. Her inability to move heightened her arousal and her need for relief. “Master, please.”
When she heard him unzip his jeans, she breathed a sigh of relief. Hard hands gripped her sore buttocks right before he demanded in a guttural tone, “Now, Cassie. Come again for me.”
Entering her in one strong thrust, he filled her to the hilt, his girth spreading her tight channel wide. The tight pinch of her clit had her screaming, her vaginal walls clamping around his thickness as she splintered apart. Sobbing, she gloried in the feel of his cock pounding into her, taking her hard and fast, leaving her to wonder how she would ever return to vanilla sex after this.
Those three too-short nights had haunted her ever since she ran out on him the third night. She tried going back to vanilla with Rick and, when that failed, she sought another dom. Her responses to Master Greg told her she got off on the light pain and domination, but her climaxes were still tepid compared to the ones Master Marc had wrought from her. She knew after the first night with Master Greg it was Marc she responded to, but she went back, her plan to get as much experience as she could while she weighed the odds of circumstances working out for her to travel to Colorado.
She found the ad for the bakery by chance after looking through the online Denver paper had become habit every Sunday, and took it as a positive sign. Even though Marc hadn’t embraced her with open arms, the way he took her, as if he couldn’t control himself, was a heady experience and the only reason she refused to return to Omaha with her tail tucked between her legs. It took months of planning and the mistake of trusting the wrong dom to get here, but she knew for certain what and who she wanted. Not only was she submissive, but it was only with Master Marc she could let go altogether, only with him could she reach those unbelievable heights of ecstasy. He was who she wanted.
Chapter Four
“Thank you, Mr. Collins.” Cassie took her mail from the mailman and handed him a blueberry muffin. “Fresh out of the oven and still warm.”
Ed Collins smiled in gratitude. “You spoil me, young lady, but mind you, I’m not complaining.”
“It’s a small thing compared to you bringing in my mail every day. I honestly don’t mind picking it up from my box at the post office.” A widower in his sixties, Ed worked part time delivering mail to the residents and business owners in and around Bear Creek. Cassie’s own grandfather on her mother’s side still lived in Omaha and she missed him. Befriending her mailman helped fill that void.
“I know, dear, but then I wouldn’t get to see your pretty smile. And I so enjoy your baking. Thank you. See you tomorrow.”
“Chocolate cake tomorrow. See you then.” The bell over the door tinkled as he let himself out.