CHAPTER THIRTEEN

A new arrangement of chain to sleep in, bizarre to have her ankles so close together at night, it has been almost six years since she last slept without her spreader bar. The chain across her back feels delicious, though, as does the three-foot chain, which she has wrapped around her neck and the headboard. Having her hands at her sides instead of chained above her head or behind her back also feels kind of weird. Hopefully, her new Master will require a more stringent bondage most nights; she really doesn’t like having nothing connecting her wrists. Still, the most important thing is the arrangement her Master has mandated, not the comfort or lack of that she feels. At least Master hasn’t forbidden her blindfold and gag. As she tries to fall asleep, her mind drifts back to Saturday night and those lovely �cuffs� she was permitted to sleep in. Waking up on Sunday morning, she remembers gently tugging her wrists against the immovable wood enclosing them, kicking her ankles to feel the chain linking them. Her right hip feels the warmth of His body, she hears the gentle sound of His breathing, then the pleasure of a hand cupping her left breast, thumbing her nipple, lips enclosing her right nipple, teeth gently nipping it, heat building in her loins, sparks running through her clit, tremors through her body, a moan escapes her lips.

�Good morning, my lovely.�

�Good morning, Sir; may your girl be permitted to serve your pleasure?�

�Not just yet, I think we’ll deal with the shower and morning ablutions and then breakfast.�

She feels Him reach for the rope fastening her wrist cuffs to the headboard, then a quick pinch to her clit.

�Up girl, no lazing about in bed.�

�Yes, Sir.� She swings her legs over the side of the bed, enjoying the rattle of chain between her ankles, stands, takes two paces away from the bed and steps through her cuffs. She stands straight backed, breasts thrust forward, belly in, ass facing the bed, framed by the wood of her cuffs and her forearms, hoping her new Master enjoys the view, wishing she could see Him but He hasn’t chosen to remove her blindfold. She hears the bed creak as He rolls out and then, a hand possessively squeezing her ass, nudging her forward, guiding her toward the bathroom. Cold tile under her bare feet makes her shiver but part of that might have been the hand on her ass.

�Step through the cuffs and place the bar at the back of your neck.�

�Yes, Sir.� She hears the sudden roar of the shower; the warmth of the steam, a hand twitches loose the knot on her blindfold, then guides her under the showerhead. She is pulled out of the shower, and feels His hands spreading lather over her body, especially her breasts, belly and ass.

�Use your body to soap up as much of mine as you can reach. Remember, you may not touch me with your hands, even by accident.�

How erotic, using her body to wash Him, wriggling her ass against that hard rod, sliding her wet breasts and belly down the length of His legs, curving around Him to get to the hard to reach parts, squeezing her shoulders into His crotch to apply soap. Her nipples by now are like pebbles, her crotch so wet she is unsure whether the moisture on the floor comes from her or the shower. She is tugged under the shower again, his hands spreading shampoo through her hair, working the suds the length of her tresses, pausing when they reach her ass for a squeeze and caress, then repeating the process over and over. Her legs are trembling, her lips producing incoherent moans. He puts her underneath the shower again and washes her off, for some reason, spending an extensive amount of time on her groin. By this time, her clit is standing a full inch proud of her lower lips, her body shaking with need, her knees trembling, only His hands on her body keeping her upright, when, suddenly, a last flick of her clit causes Vesuvius to erupt. His hands and arms support and enclose her as she shakes through the tremors. He eases her body to her knees on the floor of the shower. Her mouth bumps against His hardness, and she engulfs it with her lips, licking and sucking, trying to take the entire length into her mouth

�Tilt your head back so your mouth and throat form a straight line, then you won’t gag on the head of my plumbing.� Breathing requires a bit of careful timing but she is able to take His length in her throat and still suck on the base of His shaft and feel the weight of His balls against her chin. Some minutes of this fervent endeavour and she feels His rod begin to jerk and spasm in her mouth, and the warmth of his seed flowing down her throat. As His softening member slips from her lips, she extends her tongue for a last delicious lick. His hands on her arms lift her to her feet, though her legs are still shaky. She feels the shower stop then the warmth of a bathtowel softly drying her body and hair. Her blindfold is refastened. She is led over and sat upon the toilet.

�Go ahead, girl. I’ll wipe you after I finish drying myself.�

Embarrassing, she’s never had a shit in front of a man, and, being blindfolded, she can only assume He is watching her. Still, her bladder needs relief; the steady tinkle of her flow seems to get the bowels moving as well. Having a man wiping her clit and ass is even more humiliating but the embarrassment only brings on extra warmth between her thighs. His hand on her ass guides her back to the bed and stops her while He reaches up to loose the tie on her blindfold.

�Slip into your heels and then you can start breakfast. Use the salad tongs to hold the oranges while you quarter them. There is a small container of Hollandaise sauce in the fridge, English muffins in the breadbox and you already know about the eggs and bacon and cheese. I will want three cups of coffee. Use the Kona, it’s already ground. I’ll be out as soon as I shave.�

�Yes, Sir, coming right up.� A swat on her ass gets her moving.

�What’s this, girl? Two place settings, including cutlery and coffee mugs?�

�Sorry, Sir, I assumed I would be eating breakfast with you?�

�And you very well may be. If� I choose to feed you. Likewise, you may very well get a sip or two of coffee. You require neither a plate, nor cutlery nor yet a mug. If I wish you to set two places, I will so inform you.�

�Yes, Sir� She scurries to clear away the second setting, leaving His at the head of the table. He takes the chair she had been permitted to use Saturday night and tucks it away on the other side of the table, against the wall.

�When not actively serving me, you will kneel beside my chair. For this morning, you will place the bar at the back of your neck whenever your hands aren’t in use. I’ll have coffee now.� He seats Himself while she reaches the pot from the counter beside the table, and pours His first cup.

�Your coffee, Sir. May I be permitted to serve your breakfast now?�

�Leave the eggs in the warming tray, I’ll have an orange first. Did you quarter two of them?�

�Yes, Sir.�

�That’s good, put them on a plate and bring them over.�

�Yes, Sir.� She puts a little extra shake into her ass as she makes her hobbled way across His kitchen. How to carry the plate? The wooden bar holding her wrists apart makes this an awkward proposition. The eight quarters of very large navel orange requires that she use a large dinner plate. Her left hand won’t be strong enough to carry it unsupported; what to do? Since she will be kneeling to present the plate to Him, it will be necessary to elevate the plate, almost like a bench press. That means holding the plate with her thumb underneath and fingers on top, no way she can carry the plate like that but if she turns the plate so it rests on the wooden bar then her hand will only need to steady it; that should work.

�Well done, girl. Hands behind your neck. Here, have a sip of coffee. Hmm�no lipstick on the cup. If that happens at any future meal, it will be five strokes.�

�So, I am supposed to leave lipstick stains on the rim of your cup?�

�Not just on the rim, and not just the cup. In future, you will plant an open mouth kiss imprint on the side of every mug and bowl you present to me, and the underside of the rim of every plate.�

�I will need to freshen up my lipstick every few minutes, then?�

�Precisely. Failure to leave a clean kiss mark will bring more severe punishment than failure to leave a kiss mark at all. These are nice oranges, would you like a taste?�

�Yes please, Sir.� Biting into the orange quarter He holds to her lips causes the juice to run over her chin and drip on her breasts. Each piece is big enough to need three bites so she winds up with more of the juice on her body than in. It runs in rivulets between her breasts, down her belly as far as the hair on her mound. Three pieces later, He begins His own orange but only eats two pieces before feeding her the rest. Her body is now covered in orange juice.

�Stand up girl!� He leans forward and with long, slow strokes of His tongue, begins licking the juice from her body, working his way from her lower belly up to her chin, pausing along the way to ensure that her nipples are thoroughly cleaned off. The extra attention to her nipples has the usual effect on her knees.

�Eggs, girl.�

�Yes, Ssirrr.�

The same tricky presentation of the plate only this time, she has to kiss the rim and nearly drops the plate in the process.

�Careful, girl; that’s fine china not Melmac.�

�Yes, Sir, I’m sorry, Sir. I need to practice this movement.�

�See that you do; I expect you to demonstrate grace and elegance in your movements.�

�Yes, Sir, I’ll do better, I promise.�

He works His way through the egg, bacon, cheese in hollandaise on a muffin, pausing from time to time to feed her a bite, always ensuring that a drip or two of sauce finds its way onto her out thrust breasts.

�Hmm�nipples in Hollandaise, my favourite dessert.�

�Oh please, Master.�

�I don’t recall giving you permission to call me that! You haven’t earned the right to address me by that name yet.�

�Sorry, Sir. Sir, may your slavegirl be permitted to ask questions?�

�Certainly, and continue using the third person in referring to yourself!�

�Yes Sir, thank you Sir; if it pleases you, Sir, this slave would like to earn permission to call you Master. May she be informed of how she might earn that privilege?�

�One continuous month without earning any strokes, during which time you shall continue to demonstrate you eagerness to obey.�

�So, if a slave receives a command, she would be expected to obey instantly, no hesitation?�

�Well, of course!�

�And hesitation would earn her strokes?�

�Yes!�

�Ooh, this will be a serious test, then?�

�Very serious, we are, after all, talking about a long term commitment. I am not interested in becoming your Master for a week or a month!�

�Oh Sir, Thank You, Sir, please test this slave as strenuously as you can, make her work hard to earn your approval.�

�I certainly shall. Nothing earned easily is worth the having!�

�And a Master such as you is definitely worth the having!�

�Stand up, it’s time for my dessert. While I’m cleaning off your breasts, you can tell me what you liked, or hated about last night.�

�Yes Sir, well, your slave really loves the wrist restraint you made, I’ve� she’s never worn anything so secure and yet so comfortable in her life. The bondage tied over the back of your armchair was lovely as was the bit on the bearskin rug, and the light whipping was just perfect, I� she can still feel twinges, it’s so delicious! The walking around in her bondage, the ritual of stepping through her restraint, licking up her juices off the floor, that position, knowing she was under your eye, it was all so deliciously erotic. Learning to give head was as wonderful as I’d�she’d always hoped it would be and she has certainly never had so many orgasms in one night, or such powerful ones, speaking of which, if you keep licking her nipples like that, she will have another any second now!�

�Oh, we can’t have that, I guess they’re clean enough now. Why do I feel like there is a but coming, was there something about yesterday that disappointed you.�

�Not disappointed, exactly, although this slave was really hoping she would be�fucked last night? Lying there, spread and ready for use, your body heat warming me all night, so eager, but you didn’t take me�that is, take your slave?�

�First, watch that third person. Second, I don’t fuck; I make love, with or without bondage. Third, I make love at a time and place of my choosing I don’t do command performances! Fourth, there is much to be said for anticipation. Finally, I prefer that you refer to yourself as slavegirl, although you may add such other descriptive words as you wish. Now, I will take the last cup of coffee in my armchair while you cleanup the kitchen.

She slowly fades off to sleep, the warmth of her memories matching the heat of her groin.

End Chapter Thirteen