That felt better.

Much better.

Chapter Twenty-Eight

They’d collapsed into bed when they got home, both of them exhausted. Friday morning, she was awake a little after five in the morning and watched Rob while he slept.

Her Sir. Her Master.

Unfortunately, he had to go to work that morning to work two back-to-back shifts, and he wouldn’t be home until Sunday morning.

In everything that happened the night before, she hadn’t told him about her lunch with Don Kern and knew she had to do it as soon as possible. The more she thought about it, the worse she felt even though she hadn’t done anything improper.

She climbed out of bed, naked except for her collar, and went to start the coffee.

When Rob made it out to the kitchen a short while later, he gave her a kiss and then stared at her for a moment. “What’s wrong?”

“Is it that obvious?”

He nodded.

She told him the story, starting when Don Kern walked into the dive shop. Rob looked troubled and stared at the floor for a moment before speaking.

“Is he someone you want to go out with? Because if you do—”

“No, Sir!” She grabbed his hand and squeezed. “Just the opposite. The good thing about all this is that it made me realize something.”

“What’s that?”

She held her left hand up. “I needed to put this back where it belonged.”

Tears flooded his eyes as he folded her into his arms and held her. She stood with him like that until Doogie decided that his people needed cheering up and stuck his cold wet nose against Rob’s bare ass.

“Hey, personal space, doggie.” He ran his hand up her back, to the base of her neck where he grabbed her hair. His tone changed, dropping. “Who do you belong to, baby girl?”

Need and desire swept through her. “You, Sir,” she said in a tiny voice.

Now she recognized it. The beginning of subspace. Rob had always been able to get her there just with his tone of voice.

He nuzzled the base of her neck. “Who owns you?”

A soft, mewling sound escaped her. “You, Sir.”

He feathered his lips along the base of her throat, up to the side of her neck, where it met her shoulder. He gently nipped. “Who do you want to own you?”

“You, Sir. Only You.”

His breath felt hot against her flesh. When he bit down, hard, she let out a little cry and had to hold on to him because her knees wanted to give out. She felt her juices coating the insides of her thighs, her need thick and heavy for him even as the sweet pain swept through her. He bit and sucked and she knew by the time he finished she’d be sporting one hell of a hickey there that would last for several days, at least.

It wouldn’t be the first time, although usually he did it where her clothes would cover the mark.

When he finally released her with his teeth, he examined his handiwork with a pleased smile on his face.

“Today and tomorrow, if you go into the shop, you wear a shirt that will show off that mark nicely.”

She clung to him, wishing she could keep him there with her all day. “Yes, Sir.”

“Sunday, I want you to arrange to stay home.”

“Yes, Sir.”

He kissed her, hard and deep and full of the passion she hadn’t felt until yesterday. “Sunday, we’re going over to the house after I wake up. All our toys are over there. And I’m going to give my girl one hell of a spanking. You’re going to feel it for several days every time you sit down.”

She wanted to feel it right then! “Yes, Sir!”

He hooked a finger through the D-ring on her collar and tugged on it, leading her over to the kitchen sink, where he pushed her forward over the counter.

“Legs spread.”

She did, her breath coming in hitching gasps. She heard him open a drawer and rummage around before closing it again. Then the feel of his hand on the back of her neck, fingers around her collar, holding her down.

“This is just a reminder.” She knew immediately he’d grabbed a wooden spoon, and he smacked her several times with it on the ass, stingy, but not nearly hard enough to leave marks.

Then she heard him lay it on the counter. His free hand appeared between her legs, gently probing.

“Oh, you’re a very wet girl.” He sounded amused.

“Yes, Sir,” she admitted.

He plunged two fingers inside her cunt, still holding her in place with her collar, and finger-fucked her hard and fast.

“Don’t you dare come, baby girl,” he warned. “If you do, you’re going to get some not-fun strokes from my belt.”

She tried to hold on to the sink, her knees weak from his words and tone and even the threat. He also knew exactly where to thrust, what sweet spots inside her would take her over the edge, and his other fingers hit her swollen and throbbing clit with every stroke.

Just when she wasn’t sure she was going to be able to obey him and hang on, he stopped, making her gasp and whine when he pulled his hand from her cunt.

He yanked her up from the sink. “Knees.”

She dropped like a sinking stone in front of him, looking up.

His cock jutted out, rock hard, a drop of pre-cum pearling at the slit at the end.

She wanted to lick it off and knew if she didn’t wait for permission that could mean more punishment.

She didn’t care. She wanted it all.

“Open.”

She did, and he stuck his fingers in her mouth. She knew what he wanted and didn’t lose eye contact with him as she licked her juices off his fingers.

His cock twitched in time with her mouth, making him smile. He cradled her chin with his other hand. “Such a good girl,” he cooed, sending another flood of juices to her pussy.

When he pulled his hand out of her mouth he replaced it with his cock.

This time, he gathered her hair in his hands and took full control, fucking her mouth the way he liked while she wrapped her hands around his thighs and held on.

“Get ready,” he grunted just before his cock hardened and exploded, rewarding her with a mouthful of his cum as his balls emptied.

She felt him shudder. He grabbed one of the chairs and pulled it over, not removing his cock from her mouth, cradling her head in his lap. He stroked her hair. “Good girl,” he whispered. “Such a good girl.”

Her eyes dropped closed. She could do this for the rest of her life, sitting collared at his feet, doing this.

Doing anything he asked of her.

This was the peace that had been missing in her life, beyond the memories. This was the missed context, the ability to discuss all things vanilla and kinky with her friends and knowing they understood exactly where her mind was at.

It was this.

It was Him.

She let out a content sigh.

After a couple of minutes, he tapped her on the head and made her sit up and look at him.

He leaned forward in the chair and caught the ring on her collar with his finger. “Such a good girl.”

“Thank You, Sir.”

He grinned. “Oh, you thank me now.” He reached between her legs with his free hand to play with her clit. “You don’t get to come until Sunday.”

Her breath caught. “What?”

“Is that a problem?”

Her clit throbbed, especially since he was now rolling it between his thumb and forefinger. “But…”

“Do you accept this punishment, baby girl?”

She didn’t have a choice. She wouldn’t disappoint him. “Yes, Sir,” she whispered.

He released her clit, but then started tormenting her nipples, going back and forth between them until they were both taut, aching peaks.

“No playing with yourself unless I tell you to. And no orgasms. If you come without permission, it’s twenty-five hard ones with the big paddle. Got it?”

At that point she was so horny she thought it might be worth it. “Yes, Sir.”

He kissed her. “Good girl.”

* * *

Rob sent Laura frequent text messages all throughout the day, making sure to keep her horny and on edge. As instructed, she wore a shirt that would expose the hickey, but she left her hair down and other than Sarah giving her a friendly ribbing about it, no one else commented.

Friday night, without Rob’s comforting, solid presence in bed next to her, dreams plagued her unlike any other.

These weren’t mere dreams, though. She suspected they were true memories of past events. When she awoke Saturday morning, she was reluctant to leave the bed for fear of not recovering any more information. Most of what she picked up was older stuff, college years, but included some very fond memories of her parents and Bill.

And Rob.

She brewed a pot of coffee, then it hit her.

Don Kern.

This was the morning of his class.

The thought filled her with trepidation. She didn’t know what she felt about the man with the green eyes, but now that she was rebuilding her relationship with Rob she didn’t feel right about seeing Don Kern, even platonically.

She didn’t want anyone but her Master.

At class she would simply tell him she wouldn’t feel comfortable making plans with him. He would either understand or not.

Besides, Steve was teaching the class. She could easily make herself unavailable.

A hope filled her that she had begun to think wasn’t possible. The light at the end of the tunnel was no longer an oncoming train.

It was conceivable she’d make it through this okay.

She took her time getting ready. By the time she reached the shop, Steve and the class were already on the boat and gone.