HisIndecentBoxSetpub (30 page)

“
I
suppose that's true.” I shifted slightly, my body becoming
impatient for our lesson. Just the mention of being spanked made my
clit pulse with want.

“
Do
you understand everything better now?” he asked.

“
Yes,
I think so.” I nodded.

“
Good.
Do you have anymore questions?”

“
Um,
am I under consideration right now?”

“
You
will be after we've signed the first contract. At that point, you
will need to do your best to follow my rules. When you get the time
to read the contract, you'll learn the rest of my rules. The paper
with the list of rules are the ones that will be most important to me
while you're under consideration.”

“
Alright.”

We sat in silence
for a moment, with me looking at the list of rules on my lap and
Damien staring at me awkwardly. Then he spoke again, changing the
subject, “So, it appears that the only things you're opposed to
are being shared, anything to do with your anus, having sex while on
your period, and anything pain related. Is that correct?”

“
Mhm,”
I replied, avoiding his eyes.

“
Why
won't you have sex on your period?”

“
Because
it's gross.”

Damien huffed
lightly, somewhere between amusement and annoyance. “That's the
same reason you gave for not wanting anal sex.”

“
Well,
that's because they're both gross.”

“
They're
not gross. Menstruating is natural.”

I scrunched my face
up. “But it's messy, and I just don't want to do it when I'm on
my period.”

“
One
thing you should know about me, Cheyenne, is that I don't like being
denied.”

His words sent a
shiver down my spine. He sounded so powerful, looked so dominant—so
desirable. Damien's dark eyes burned down to my very core, lighting a
fire there that swirled with desire for him.

“
I
. . .” I wasn't sure what I was supposed to say—what he
wanted me to say. Why had I even bothered to open my mouth? When he
looked at me in that way, spoke to me like that, I always got
tongue-tied and flustered.

“
We
can work on all of this later,” he said finally. “I'm
sure you're eager to get to your lesson this evening.”

Yes.
I nodded
fervently.
Oh so eager.

“
Read
rule number thirteen,” he instructed.

What?
I
looked down at the list, wondering what the rules had to do with
anything until I found the one he had requested. My cheeks grew warm
as I read it aloud, “I will always tell my Master before I am
about to orgasm so that he may decide whether or not to allow it.”

“
This
is the first rule I want you to commit to memory. Now, are you ready
for your lesson?”

I could only imagine
how he planned to use that rule. Did he mean to deny my orgasm?
Hopefully not. My body was already warmed up for him. It wouldn't
take much to push me over the edge, the edge that I so willingly
wanted to plummet down.

With a deep breath,
I said, “I'm ready.”

Damien uncrossed his
legs. “Tonight, we're going to take a shower together.”

“
A
. . . shower?” That was totally unexpected. I supposed that
shower sex was just as hot as anything else. Besides, I had never
done it in a shower before.

“
Mhm.”
He stood, which I took for a sign to follow him.

Damien
led me to the Master bathroom, where he leaned casually against the
counter that stretched across the length of the room. His bathroom
was every bit as big as my bedroom at my father's house. And it
looked every bit as expensive and pristine as the rest of his house.
White marble tile with flecks of gold in it led up to a giant basin
tub. To the right was the long counter with his and her sinks, and to
the left was a massive walk-in shower, large enough for at least six
people to stand together comfortably.
How
can he not call this a mansion?

“
Undress,”
Damien commanded.

I felt strangely
insecure under his gaze, though he had seen me naked many times
before.
Remember what comes after undressing
, I told myself as
I began to unbutton my blouse. My fingers worked clumsily, ever aware
of Damien Reed's smoldering eyes upon me.

“
When
you're finished, fold your clothing nearly and place them on the
counter,” he instructed as I was sliding off my underwear.

“
Alright,”
I replied, quickly doing as I was told.

Damien furrowed his
brows at my folded clothing. “Has no one ever taught you how to
properly fold clothes before?”

“
I
usually hang these up,” I said, trying not to sound annoyed.

“
I'll
expect you to learn how to fold clothing properly. I'm sure you can
find several videos on YouTube about it.”

“
Yes,
Master,” I playfully mocked him.

“
It's
Sir.” He didn't even smile.

“
Sir?”

“
Yes.
Until you receive your formal collar, you will address me as Sir.
That is what I prefer to be called. Calling me Master denotes that we
have reached a deeper relationship, which we have not yet.”

The tension in the
room was palpable, though whether it was sexual tension or something
else, I couldn't tell. All I knew was that he was being very serious,
and although I found it sexy, to a degree, it was kind of making me
uncomfortable.

“
Now
I want you to undress me,” he said, pushing himself away from
the counter and taking a step forward so I had room to get around
him.

Undress him. Now
that sounded like fun. I tried to hide my lecherous grin as I stepped
up to him, inhaling the masculine scent of his cologne. Damien Reed
was absolutely intoxicating, and just the feel of being in his
personal space erased all of my uncertainty.

I bit my bottom lip,
gazing up at him. When our eyes met, fireworks went off inside my
body. Passionate Damien was there, dominating me with his powerful
eyes, consuming my body and soul. My heart began to pound in my chest
as my hands went to grip the bottom of his white T-shirt. He lifted
his arms and bowed his head so that I could take it off, leaving him
shirtless and yummy.

Mmm Damien Reed
shirtless. He was the picture of gorgeous, with tattooed arms, pale
skin, and a fit body. Tall, dark, and handsome. And totally mine. The
thought made me absolutely giddy inside.

I knelt to take off
his shoes and socks, surprised that his feet didn't smell. It was a
weird thing to think about, but I had never liked feet. They were
strange looking, and kind of gross.

Thankfully, I didn't
have to linger on my knees too long before it was time to take off
his jeans and get to the goods. Beneath them, his cock was flaccid,
though I knew it wouldn't stay like that—hoped it wouldn't stay
that way. I wanted it inside of me. Needed it inside of me.

When Damien was
fully undressed, he walked past me to turn on the shower. Water
sprayed down from three metal plates in the ceiling. It was a neat
addition to the traditional shower head on the wall. Next to that was
a detachable shower head. Needless to say, Damien's shower didn't
lack options when it came to getting wet.

After he had
adjusted the temperature to his liking, he motioned for me to step
inside. I was thankful he preferred his showers hot. Despite the heat
of the water, my nipples began to perk the moment beads of water
pelted down on them. For a moment, I thought to conceal myself in
embarrassment, but what did it matter. They would have gotten hard
the second Damien put his hands on me anyway. And by that time, all
thoughts of modesty would be out the window.

Damien reached up
and took a bottle of shampoo from the shower rack. “I want you
to wash my hair,” he told me. “You wash it, rinse it,
lather again, and leave it in for a minute while you scrub my body.
When you're finished washing me, you'll rinse my hair again, then
condition it. You'll leave the conditioner in, and while it's setting
in, I'll bathe you.”

I nodded, taking the
bottle from him and squirting a generous portion of shampoo into my
hand. Surprisingly, the brand was a common one. Then again, Damien
Reed was all over the place with what he chose to spend his money on.
He lived in a mansion but wore jeans and T-shirts most days, and they
weren't even the designer kind. The man was truly unusual.

I reached up and
massaged the shampoo into his short dark hair. It was brown, but so
close to black that you couldn't tell from a distance.

Meticulously, I
followed Damien's instructions, worrying the whole time that it
wouldn't be good enough. He seemed to like to criticize everything I
did wrong, but I supposed that was part of training me to be the
perfect submissive, teaching me how to do things the way he wanted
them done. It would certainly take some getting used to, and
hopefully the payoff would be worth the initial annoyance with the
process.

Thankfully, he
didn't say anything while I bathed him. He simply watched me,
assessing me the entire time. As I handled his penis, the desire to
pop it into my mouth became almost overwhelming. I held back though,
not wanting to risk displeasing him. Could a man be displeased by a
blow job? I didn't think so. Still, Damien Reed wasn't just any man.
It had taken me forever to get him hard during my first lesson with
him. He had ridiculous self-control. I shouldn't be surprised that a
small bit of fondling didn't do the trick.

When it was time for
the conditioner to set in, Damien took control, shampooing my hair
and washing me as I had him. Just the feel of his hands caressing my
soapy skin made me want to moan. They were large and warm, and I felt
somehow protected in his embrace.

When he soaped up my
sex, his fingers were gentle, rubbing back and forth between my folds
to get me clean. My clit throbbed needily, but it was obvious he
wasn't ready to give it the attention it wanted.
Soon
, I told
myself.
Soon, he'll be fucking me.
Maybe he'll even press
me up against the glass like he had in the cheer studio.
How I
missed the cheer studio, the excitement of being naked and exposed
for all the world to see, the dominance in Damien's voice as he
ordered me not to turn around, the rough way he had taken me against
the glass. My pussy ached the entire day afterward. It had been a
good kind of pain. The kind of pain that comes from being ridden hard
and put away sopping.

Instead of switching
places with me, Damien grabbed the detachable shower head and rinsed
off my back. The setting on it pulsed hard against my skin, giving me
a massage as it went. I groaned at the pleasure of it. Never before
had I felt so pampered. It was well worth waiting for my turn to be
bathed.

“
Put
your leg up on the bench,” Damien instructed, and I did as I
was told.

Damien changed the
setting on the detachable shower head to a gentle flow to wash off my
chest. Down the shower head went, between my breasts, over my
stomach, and pausing at my mound. Instead of continuing its descent,
the shower head moved away from me and out of view. I didn't think
much of it until I heard a click behind me. Then Damien's arm was
reaching around me, pulling me against him, while the shower head was
pressed between my legs, the setting dialed all the way up to
Oh-My-Fucking-God.

My body tensed
against him, my breath instantly becoming ragged as the hot water
jetted across my sensitive clit. I wanted to close my legs—wanted
to postpone the orgasm. It was coming too fast, racing through my
body with dizzying speed.