Her Master's Kiss Page 6

  Renee nodded. “So I need to be wary of the master I agree to serve?”

  “Very. And slaves do have a choice. Just because a master wants you to serve him, that does not mean you must simply agree. Slaves have an equal say in the agreement.”

  “What kind of masters are the best?”

  Stefan sighed. “Often it depends on the slave,” he said. “Some masters will place an emphasis on sex. Most of their training will be centered on using the slave for sexual pleasure. It is the emphasis of their thinking. Other masters are more focused on discipline and obedience. They seek opportunities to punish their slaves because the punishment aspect is the center of their focus. Likewise, some slaves are better for performing household-like tasks, where discipline should be the priority. Other slaves are naturally sexual, and best suited to sexual pleasures. Therefore a master might be less inclined to enforce strict punishments provided the quality of sexual performance is excellent.”

  “How do I tell what kind of slave I am?” Renee asked. “I know I’m not very good in the bedroom. I’m sexually…. I’m not the most worldly…” she broke off and then tried again, “If I’m best suited to domestic slavery, does that mean I’m going to have to settle for a fat old master who likes restaurant-quality cooking?”

  Stefan almost laughed. Almost. “Can you cook?” he asked lightly.

  “No. I can’t. And I’m not a very good cleaner…”

  “Then you have a problem.”

  Renee sighed. “I’d rather be a sex slave,” she decided. “It seems to me that I would stand a better chance… and I don’t like the idea of violent punishments. I can’t say I like the idea of serving a master who is going to get his pleasure from being abusive either…. So I need to learn how to please men sexually. Fast.”

  “Not too fast,” Stefan held up his hand. “Remember, your role in the relationship is to be obedient. That means learning to follow a master’s sexual demands. Your emphasis should not be on learning how to become an amazing lover. Your emphasis should be on learning to detach your feelings from your physical body. To sexually please your master, you don’t need experience, you need to be willingly obedient. His pleasure will come from using your body for his satisfaction… not because you can swing from a chandelier. Just learn to be totally obedient and totally compliant to his every sexual desire.”

  She shook her head. “I… I’m not sure I follow you,” she said slowly. “Can you give me an example?”

  Stefan frowned. There was a small bell sounding a dull warning in the far recesses of his mind that he couldn’t explain.

  He shrugged. “Stand up.”

  Renee stood, spreading her legs and bowing her head instinctively.

  “Look at me.”

  Renee lifted her eyes to Stefan. His face was set, stern.

  “Undress me.”

  Renee blinked.

  “Now,” Stefan snapped. “But do not touch my skin with your hands. If you do, you will be whipped.”

  Renee moved immediately, stepping close to Stefan. First, she peeled his jacket off his shoulders, taking care not to brush his hands with hers as she eased the jacket sleeves free of his arms.

  Then she stood close in front of him and unfastened the top button of his shirt. Through the fabric she could feel the muscled shape of his broad chest. Her heart was racing. Her mouth felt suddenly dry.

  “This is an example of what I spoke about,” Stefan explained as she carefully unfastened two more buttons. “The situation is clearly a sexual one. You are removing your master’s clothing. And yet there are conditions you must adhere to. You cannot touch my skin with yours, or else you will be punished. In ways such as this, a master sets challenges and tasks for his slave that fulfill his needs, and yet also come with the threat of punishment for poor performance.”

  Renee nodded. There was no way she could have spoken right then. She was trembling with a delicious excitement she found almost impossible to restrain.

  “A domestic slave might be given the task of cooking a meal to the master’s satisfaction, or risk being punished. But in that situation, the punishment is more likely to be severe if the meal is not up to the master’s standard. In this situation, because the nature of the task is sexual, I would be less inclined to punish you too severely, because I still would be planning to use your body for sex afterwards.”

  “You would?”

  “If I were your master…”

  Renee reached the last button of Stefan’s shirt and stopped suddenly. “If you were my master, would you use me for domestic slavery?” she asked.

  “No,” Stefan said. “You would be a sex slave.” There was a small strain in his voice that Renee noticed too.

  “But I’m not very good in bed,” Renee reminded him.

  “No. You’re not very confident in bed,” Stefan corrected. “And, as I have just explained, sexual skill is not the measure. Willingness, obedience and compliance are the measures.”

  Renee bit her lip. Stefan’s shirt was unbuttoned. She delicately, carefully, slid it off him and gave a small, silent gasp as the muscled hardness of his chest and abdomen were revealed. He was tanned, his chest lightly covered with dark whorls of hair. She felt the wicked thrill of her own arousal, like a throbbing pulse low in her belly.

  She stared into Stefan’s eyes. They were dark; so incredibly dark and hypnotic. Renee realized she was holding her breath.

  “The trousers,” Stefan said thickly.

  Renee reached with fumbling, anxious, excited fingers for Stefan’s belt. He stood perfectly still, staring at her bowed head as she concentrated. He was hard.

  He felt her hand tugging with the buckle as her fingers brushed across the fabric of his trousers. He closed his eyes.

  Renee had the belt undone, and was struggling with the button. She wrestled with the fastening, taking painstaking care. Then it was free. Her fingers touched the tab of his zipper, and slowly - so very slowly - she began to unzip Stefan’s pants.

  She was too nervous to breathe; too nervous to blink. Her entire focus was concentrated.

  The zip began to slide down. Renee’s knuckles grazed across the hardness of Stefan, caressing him through the fabric. She felt the reactive swell of him. She gave another small gasp as she realized that under his trousers, there was no underwear. She could see skin, and the shadow of dense body hair.

  Another inch. She was so careful! Her fingers worked as if she were performing surgery.

  And then suddenly she felt Stefan’s hand on her shoulder, sliding quickly down, past her throat. She flinched. Stefan’s hand cupped her breast and forced itself inside the lace of her bra. He felt the stiffness of her nipple and squeezed.

  The erotic shock was like a jolt of lightning. Renee couldn’t help herself. She threw her head back and moaned, feeling the heat of his touch send sparks through her body. She flinched, instinctively moving to make it easier for him – and as she did so her hand on his zipper brushed against the bare skin of Stefan’s abdomen.

  “Stop!” he snapped. He backed away from her. Renee looked up, crestfallen. Devastated. Crushed.

  “No!” Renee cried. “That’s not fair. No,” she pleaded.

  Stefan stood staring at her. His breathing was ragged. “You failed,” he said. “The matter is closed. You will need to be punished.”

  Renee swallowed hard. She sensed this was the moment; it was the instant where everything hung in the balance. For a split-second she was so scared of the consequences she hesitated.

  Take the chance!

  She closed the space between her and Stefan. “Punish me then,” she said impulsively. “I don’t care.” Her hand went down to Stefan’s trousers again. She could feel the steel of him.

  “What are you doing?” Stefan barked. “Get on your knees!”

  She ignored him. Her hand felt inside his trousers and the size of him was a shock to her. Velvet covering steel, he was burning hot to her touch.

  Stefan wrapped a hand arou
nd her throat and slapped her hard across her face. Renee’s head snapped aside and her eyes filled with tears. Her senses reeled. Her vision misted with tears.

  “So help me, Renee, if you don’t obey me…”

  “What?” Renee sobbed. “What will you do, Stefan? Will you beat me again? Will you flog me with the whip until I can’t stand up, just like you did last night?”

  “You know that was an accident.” Stefan growled. “And I apologized.”

  “I know it was the first time you let your guard down!” Renee cried recklessly. “So if that’s what it takes before you will let me in, then fine, Stefan. Whip me. Beat me until I cry… but show me who you really are!”

  Stefan was still incredibly hard in her hand. Renee dropped to her knees before him, and looked up at him with pleading, tear-streaked eyes.

  “Show me,” she pleaded. “Cross the line, Stefan. I don’t care if you whip me anymore. I just want you to show me your heart. No holding back. Show me how you feel.”

  He reached down and grabbed her arms. He dragged her to her feet and shook her hard.

  “I know what I feel!” he shouted. There was a wildness in his eyes that frightened and thrilled her.

  Then he kissed her fiercely.

  There was anger and frustration and despair and hurt in the kiss. There was everything he felt. It was all in his lips; in the way his mouth lashed across hers, in the way he held her, and in the way his body remained hungry for her. He ravaged her with the kiss, and Renee swooned, clinging to him, receiving the raw emotional intensity of it as if he was whipping her mercilessly.

  Finally, gasping and trembling they broke apart. Stefan gazed at her.

  “I know what I feel…” he said again slowly. His voice unsteady and his breathing ragged. “I just don’t understand how you make me feel it.”

  * * *

  Stefan set the drink down at his elbow and stared again down at the page.

  Slowly he re-read what he had written, knowing that it could never be enough; that it could never be adequate. He wondered why it was so hard to read, and realized his eyes were beginning to well with tears.

  My darling Tiffany,

  This is the last letter I’ll write you. I think it’s time I moved on. I still think about you every day, but I’ve met another woman, and she is forcing me to realize that I can’t stay hidden in our past any longer.

  You would like her. She has your courage, and your passion.

  Tif, I’m scared. I don’t know what the future holds. For so long I was safe in my misery. I stayed cold and remote to honor your memory and I lost touch with who I was.

  I shut everyone out of my life for so long I forgot how to feel. Now Renee has come into my life, and somehow I’ve let her in. And it frightens me.

  I don’t want to love again, because I know the pain that comes from loss. But I don’t think I can keep her out of my heart.

  I know I can’t. She already has a tiny part of it, and even though I don’t understand how it has happened, I know it’s something I’m going to have to face… if she’ll willing to take the chance.

  I’m a different man to the one you loved. The man I am now is a hard, cold shadow… but there is something about this new woman that has forced me back into the light, and I don’t like what I see. I think I need to start living and loving again, even though the prospect scares me. I know you’ll understand…

  Goodbye, Tif.

  Stefan.

  Day Eight.

  “The submissive must learn that to remain at her master’s side she must give her body and soul to him.”

  Stefan wrapped the small box carefully in brown paper and set it on the bar counter. He poured himself a drink and checked the time.

  He had fifteen minutes.

  He rehearsed the scene again in his mind, choosing his words, knowing that he had to get the tone and the meaning right. He was surprised he felt strangely anxious.

  The doorbell rang, startling him.

  When Stefan opened the door, a stunningly attractive woman was standing on his doorstep. She was tall, with flowing long dark hair, wearing a tight white dress that hugged the curves of her body with almost obscene clarity.

  “Can I help you?”

  “Yes,” the woman breathed. “I’m here to talk to you about the service you offer.”

  Stefan studied the woman carefully. She was in her late twenties, and she was as beautiful as cosmetics, perfume, artificial tanning and hairdressers could make her.

  “You want to learn to be a submissive?”

  “Yes. I want you to teach me.”

  It started to rain. A cloudburst filled the air with a downpour of heavy drops that detonated on the footpath, and drummed on the roof and against the windows. The woman tried to edge herself inside but Stefan stubbornly kept her on the porch.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I don’t offer that service anymore.”

  “You don’t?” the woman was shocked. “Since when?”

  “Since now,” Stefan said, having to raise his voice above the sound of the boiling storm. “I’ve decided to change career paths. I’m going to write romance novels instead.”

  The woman looked at him incredulously. Stefan had his hand on her arm, edging her away from the door.

  Lightning lit the night sky, followed by an ominous rumble of thunder. Stefan peered up into the night sky, and then a sudden flash of color in the corner of his eye made Stefan look away.

  Standing at his front gate, drenched in the rain, her sundress clinging soaked to her skin, stood Renee. She was staring at the couple in the doorway, her face a mask of shock and bewilderment.

  She stood there, frozen in place for long seconds – and then, before Stefan could react – she suddenly turned away and began to run.

  Stefan didn’t hesitate. He left the woman standing on his porch. He left his door wide open. He ran down the path, and hurdled the fence in pursuit of Renee.

  She had a start on him. Her shoes were in her hand and she was running barefoot along the footpath. At the end of the street she turned and ran across the road, running blindly in the torrential rain.

  “Renee!” Stefan shouted.

  Another rent of lightning cut a white jagged line through the boiling clouds. The rain teemed down in a solid grey curtain. Wind began to gust through the trees, snapping branches and howling between the houses.

  ‘Renee!” he shouted again.

  He ran hard. She was running towards the park. Stefan hurdled a footpath bench and landed heavily. He regained his balance in time to see Renee disappear to the right at the end of the street.

  Stefan cut through the yard of a neighboring house and leaped over the back fence. Renee was just twenty paces ahead of him now. She veered off the road and disappeared into the darkened grounds of the park.

  The small park was bordered by trees and shrubs. The wind shrieked through the treetops. Flying debris filled the air. Driving rain stung Stefan’s face as he ran on. Wicked jags of lightning lit up the sky. Thunder rumbled so close and so loud the ground seemed to tremble. Renee was just ahead of him, swaying and staggering before the force of the storm.

  Stefan lunged for her.

  They fell to the muddy grass in a heavy tumble. Stefan felt Renee’s elbow drive the wind from his lungs and he grunted painfully. Renee was under him, kicking her legs and flailing her arms. She was screaming something he couldn’t understand. He rolled her onto her back and threw himself on top of her, forcing her down into the mud, covering her struggling body with his.

  “Stupid!” Renee cried. “I’m so stupid! Stupid!”

  Using his weight to hold her down, Stefan took her face in his hand. “Renee!” he shouted. He slapped her.

  “I’m so damn stupid!” she kept screaming.

  Stefan slapped her again, harder this time, and suddenly Renee wasn’t shouting anymore. She was sobbing, crying – her whole body racked and shuddering under the heart-wrenching agony of her despair.

/>   Stefan let her cry. She stopped struggling, overcome now by tears. Stefan rolled off her, but kept a grip around her tiny waist. Her tears fell like the rain, and he knew there was nothing he could do to stop either. So he lay in the mud in the middle of the park while Renee’s despair, and the howling storm both exhausted themselves.

  * * *

  When Renee’s tears had turned to shuddering, gulping sobs, and when the storm front had begun to snarl further east, Stefan slid his hand up to cup her chin and force her to look at him.

  “Why did you run?”

  Renee shook her head. “I have been so stupid!” she said. “I… I became so wrapped up in… I got swept away…I thought we…”

  “Say it,” Stefan encouraged.

  “I thought we might… that you might…” and then she bunched her fists and flailed them in the mud angrily. “But I was so stupid! Just a silly little girl. You were right, Stefan. I am naïve. I do have a head full of stupid, stupid romantic notions! I can’t believe how I let myself…”

  “Say it,” Stefan said again.

  Renee sighed. “I’ve fallen in love with you,” she said, “and I thought that maybe, after the other night, your feelings for me might become something more. I thought maybe you would want me as your slave, and that one day you might love me back. See! That’s how stupid and silly I am!” she berated herself. “I forgot what you do for a living. I forgot you have an endless parade of beautiful women falling all over you, begging you to touch them and please them. I can’t compete with women like that one on your door tonight, Stefan. I can’t! And…. and after what James did to me… I know… I just know that the jealousy would tear me apart. I couldn’t be your slave knowing all those other women were spending time with you too. I’d be too scared of losing you…”