Master of the House (22 page)

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Authors: Justine Elyot

BOOK: Master of the House
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This thought made my heart bump again and my throat dry out. Would people be sniffing around me, literally?

‘I’ll leave the more intimate preparations to your lordship,’ she said to Joss, standing in the doorway. ‘Unless you’d like me …?’

‘No, thank you, O, I will see to it myself.’

She bowed her head.

‘Then I’ll see you at the ball. Or rather, I won’t see your faces. But I imagine I’ll know you by the way you are together. One grows to recognise the signs.’

She left.

‘Do you think that’s true?’ I asked, standing up and swishing about in front of the full-length mirror. If Gainsborough had painted whores, this would be the result.

‘What?’ He lay on his side, watching me. I watched him back, in the glass.

‘That she could tell us from our, I dunno, body language?’

‘Yes, I think it’s true. When you’ve been on the scene as long as she has, you develop a certain sixth sense.’

‘How old is she?’

‘Forties, I think.’

‘She doesn’t look it.’

‘Submission keeps you young,’ he said with a crafty smile. ‘Another incentive for you.’

‘Does domination have the same effect?’

‘I don’t know. You were very good down there, Lulu. I was … I don’t know … almost a bit choked up. You were so good. It’s a privilege for me, you know. I don’t take it lightly.’

‘I know.’ I looked over my shoulder at him. Utter earnestness radiated from his anxious brow.

‘So thank you,’ he said softly. ‘You were far more than I deserve.’

‘It was weird,’ I said, making faces at myself in the mirror. ‘I’d never have thought I could do that … you know … let you do things like that … in front of another person. But actually, it wasn’t that hard. It was … I mean … it was pretty hot, actually.’

‘God, wasn’t it?’ he said with a heartfelt sigh. ‘Darling, if you let me do things to you in front of the other guests tonight, I will be your complete and permanent slave for ever.’

I laughed. ‘That’s not how it’s supposed to work, is it?’

‘Well, they never say so. But actually it is. We doms are your slaves. We do everything for you, cater for your every need. And we have to do all the work, when it comes down to it.’

I pondered this. It was a good point. Far easier and more comfortable to be done to than to do. Submission was, in a way, rather a lazy practice, notwithstanding all the physical rigour it entailed.

I was inclined to throw my normal caution to the wind and put myself completely in his hands tonight. But I needed a little forewarning first.

‘If you tell me,’ I said, ‘what you have in mind, I will do it. I just don’t like surprises.’

‘Well, that was what we agreed,’ he said. ‘We wouldn’t do anything you weren’t comfortable with. Let’s negotiate.’

He got off the bed and grabbed something from the dressing table.

‘Bend over,’ he said.

‘Why?’

I hadn’t seen what he’d taken, but it didn’t look like a hairbrush or any other kind of spanking implement, so I guessed I was safe in that regard.

‘O didn’t finish your make-up. I’m going to do it.’

‘You can’t put make-up on when I’m bending over,’ I objected, but I had a funny feeling it wasn’t my face he had in mind for adornment.

‘Oh, yes, I can,’ he said, and he parted my skirts behind, patted my inner thighs apart and began smearing something over my pussy lips. ‘The Roissy girls always made sure their nether lips had perfect pink pouts,’ he said. ‘You really should read the book. I’ll lend it to you.’

‘You could have brought it down to the caravan that day,’ I said. ‘Instead of the
Lucy
poems.’

‘Yes, well, that would have been rather a bold statement of intent and I suspect you would have taken to your heels and not stopped running until you were in the next county.’

‘Yeah, you’re probably right.’ Though I wasn’t 100 per cent sure of that.

‘So, Lucy,’ he said, still working on my unusual maquillage, ‘what’s on the menu for tonight? We’re doing this to give you some experience of public play, so name your game.’

‘You mean, what could I do with people watching? I don’t know where to start. Where do people usually start?’

‘Oh, I don’t know. I suppose you’ve snogged people in pubs and clubs, perhaps some devil has even copped a crafty feel up against a car park wall. I suppose I’d like to take it a step further than that.’

‘It’s a long time since I did anything like that in front of other people.’

In fact, the last time had probably been with Joss. At Willingham Hall, that summer, surrounded by his friends. There had been a great many public displays of affection because, at that age, you can’t help yourself.

‘Well, shall we start with some general spooning? And I can put my hands where nobody can see but everyone can guess. What do you think?’

‘Oh, God.’

I thought it sounded outrageously decadent, embarrassing, shameful and … hot.

‘I’m not going to fuck you in front of anyone because I don’t think you’re ready for that yet, but I want to spank you, maybe tie you up, do terrible things to your poor, helpless, tethered body.’

On each adjective, he gave my clit a little sweep, then hooked two fingers inside me while he played with me more seriously.

‘Oh … you can’t … spank me … in front of all … those people,’ I panted. But the thought was getting me wetter and wetter, his fingers sliding and slipping.

‘Can’t I indeed? I think I can. I might see if anyone wants to join in. Everyone loves to watch a naughty girl’s bottom turning redder and redder until she’s learned her lesson. Everyone wants to play teacher in those circumstances. Trust me.’

‘I couldn’t … oh, God.’

My orgasm must have told him everything he needed to know. There was no way I could stop him spanking me in front of a thousand onlookers. Now, if he didn’t, I’d be disappointed.

‘Dear me,’ he said, tutting and withdrawing his hand. ‘I didn’t give you permission for that, did I?’

‘No, sir.’

‘Just as well. Now I’ve got something to punish you for.’ He straightened up and put my skirts back into place. ‘I’m going to wash my hands and ring our little maid for some room service.’

I moved, ready to stand up, but Joss stopped me with a hand on the small of my back.

‘Go and stand in the corner,’ he said. ‘I want the maid to see you there. Put your hands on your head. It’ll get you eased into things, I think. Help you with your headspace.’

How very thoughtful he was. I told him so, in a mildly sarcastic tone, and he acknowledged the compliment without irony.

The flock wallpaper was fuzzy against my nose but I kept it where I was told and waited for the door to open and our company to enter the room.

‘How may I be of service, sir?’

I almost turned round – the man we had before had obviously changed shifts because a female voice spoke after the knock.

‘Come in,’ said Joss.

I stood in my corner, hands on head, while Joss ordered two seafood salads and a bottle of mineral water. This maid did not kiss his boots or anything of that kind, but just as she was about to leave he stopped her.

‘Oh, before you go,’ he said. ‘I’d like to order a large bottle of lubricant too. I should have packed some but you know how it is … and I promised little Twinkletoes over there I’d have her arse tonight. Would you be so kind?’

‘Of course, sir.’

I didn’t look around, but every inch of me burned, imagining the maid’s curious eyes on me and her knowledge of what lay in store for me later.

‘She’s been a little bit disobedient, as I expect you’ve guessed,’ he said, stopping her leaving the room a second time.

‘Sir?’

‘Before you come back up, perhaps you can ask your master or mistress how they’d punish a submissive who fails to ask permission for her orgasm. I bet you never forget, do you?’

‘No, sir, never.’

‘Hmm. This little minx can’t seem to help herself. Greedy, I call it. Will you ask for me? I’d love some advice on the matter. Thank you. That’s all.’

I waited for the door to shut before whining.

‘Do you
have
to?’

‘Darling, she’s heard it all before. She didn’t even see your face. You’ll need to get used to this kind of thing. I know it’s humiliating. That’s the whole point.’

He stood behind me and kissed my shoulder, reaching around my cinched-in waist with one arm.

‘Thank you,’ he whispered into my ear. ‘I love you.’

I lifted my face to him. ‘You’re bloody lucky I feel the same,’ I whispered sharply.

He kissed my red-stained mouth, getting some of it on his lips.

‘I know.’

When the maid came back, twenty minutes later, with our food and the lube, Joss was getting dressed.

‘Ah, thanks, put it on the table, that’s fine. Did you ask?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘And what was the upshot?’

‘Mistress said she would whip your submissive all over her bottom and thighs and then give her ten strokes of the crop on her pussy as a reminder that it doesn’t belong to her, sir.’

‘Hmm.’ I heard him rattle his cufflinks in one hand. ‘Sound advice. Thank her for me, won’t you?’

‘Yes, sir.’

‘My little one’s in for an interesting evening, wouldn’t you think?’

‘Oh, yes, sir.’

There was such envy in her voice that I forgot to be mortified and felt instead rather smug. Wouldn’t you like to have this gorgeous man for your master? No dice. He’s mine.

‘That will do.’

She left without asking for any opportunity for self-abasement, unlike the male maid from before. I was rather relieved. I disliked it when Joss focused his attention on anybody else, especially his dom attention. If my bottom belonged to him, so did his hand belong to me. And the rest of us too.

‘Come and eat,’ he invited.

I turned to see him looking breathtaking in tight black leather trousers, knee boots and a billowing black silk shirt. His hair, which was usually in a floppy romantic-hero style, was gelled back from his forehead. It made his eyes look darker and deeper, his face more chiselled, the overall effect far more dangerous than I had ever thought he could look.

He enjoyed the little pause for breath I had to take, smiling from ear to ear.

‘Like it?’

‘Wow.’

‘Of course, we’ll be wearing masks, so …’

‘I’ve suddenly lost all interest in the seafood salad,’ I said. ‘Now that
you …

Could we just cancel the ball and go to bed?

‘All in good time,’ he said. ‘I must admit I’d rather be eating you than these prawns, but we must pace ourselves, my love.’

I managed to swallow a morsel or two, but I spent much more time looking at him than at my plate.

‘I haven’t seen the masks,’ I said suddenly.

‘O was going to drop them in.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Any time now, I think.’

Her knock was so timely that we giggled.

Joss went to answer the door.

‘Oh, my Lord,’ she said, and I wasn’t sure if she was addressing him or simply exclaiming. I couldn’t really blame her for the latter.

She stepped into the room. She had changed and was now wearing a jewelled corset. She wasn’t wearing her skirts down but had them rolled up into little panniers that sat on her hips. Her legs were in long fishnet hold-ups but she wore no knickers and her shaved, vajazzled pubic area was on full display. It was way more shocking than if she’d been naked.

I wanted to comment, or ask about it, but felt sure it would be considered bad form, so I didn’t. Was she really just going to walk about with her arse and pussy bared to the whims of all who passed all night?

Joss complimented her on her outfit and she performed a little curtsy, odd to watch when no skirts were involved in the gesture.

‘Mal has ordered me to keep the skirts up all night,’ she said wearily. ‘I don’t think the mask will do much to conceal my identity, do you?’

She pointed to her vajazzling, which spelled out a large O in bright red hearts. Mind you, Mal’s pointy teeth would be a dead giveaway to all and sundry too. That seemed different, though. I wondered what it would be like to completely belong to a man the way O belonged to Mal – to have to do whatever he ordered. Presumably O got some deep-seated satisfaction out of it, or she’d tell him to bugger off, but I doubted I could ever go that far. Or perhaps I could. Perhaps time would erode my sense of shame and self to the point where I was blasé about running around a vast, draughty warehouse club with all my bits and pieces on show.

What a thought.

O laid the masks on the table. They were exquisitely constructed from silks and velvets, jewels and feathers. Mine made me look like a kitten while Joss’s was more like a panther, which went with the sleek, black look. A feathery, glittery panther, anyway.

‘What do you think? A clever, clever lady I know makes them all. She’s a genius, I think.’

‘Beautiful,’ said Joss, looking at me in my pink and white kitten face. ‘Beautifully anonymous. Whatever is done to you, nobody will guess it
is
you.’

Yes. Those were words I needed to hear tonight. Once the mask was on, I would become His Submissive, a kind of alter ego, yet also a part of myself.

I didn’t want to think too deeply about how all the dots connected yet.

I wanted to get this evening under my belt. Under
his
belt.

‘She’s brilliant,’ I said. ‘All the costumes are.’

‘Well,’ said O. ‘I must get on. Our first guests will be arriving very soon. To make your grand entrance, you need to go into the coffee shop. We’ve dressed it up as a ballroom. You might not recognise the place! I’ll see you soon.’

She put on a rabbit mask and turned to leave. I couldn’t help noticing that she had the cottontail to match. In her bum.

In our masks, our mouths were free but our eyes were concealed.

Joss helped me to my feet and kissed me, which was awkward at first, until we were able to co-ordinate masks and stop feathers tickling our faces.

He felt and smelled divine, the silk shirt cold and whispery on my skin, the leather pushing its way through my skirts to rub its smoothness against my legs.

I wanted to fall backwards and spread my legs for him right then and there.

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