Master Stephen (5 page)
“Who says he’s a Master?”
I hadn’t thought of Mr M as anything other than a Dom. He was so full of authority, and people obeyed him without question. “I can’t see him as a sub, Sir.”
“Me neither. I don’t know anything about him—I don’t think many do. He’s a closed book, that one.”
A closed book he might be, but he had made many people happy by opening Marshall Cottage and sharing his space with us all. I would be forever grateful to him and planned to tell him so on my way out tonight.
“Will we meet this time next week?” Master Stephen asked.
“I was hoping it might be this time tomorrow night, Sir. Earlier, if possible.”
He held me tighter, kissed the top of my head then steered me toward the shower stall. He let me go for long enough to reach inside and set the water running then drew me to him again, holding me close.
“You’re about to get wet for me again,” he said, sliding his fingers inside my cunt. “Very, very wet.”
“I can’t imagine being anything else for you, Sir.” I smiled.
“Oh, you’d better start broadening your mind then,” he said. “There are so many things I want you to be for me. A maid, a whore, a nurse—all on your knees, all obeying me, and all mine.”
I shivered at his tone, at his note of command. He could order me about for the rest of my life and I’d do whatever he asked of me, knowing he wouldn’t expect me to do anything I didn’t want to do. He hadn’t said so, but I felt it, and trusting my instincts with regards to him had been something I’d done all along. I’d known he wasn’t a tart, that he wasn’t some gruff, selfish Dom no one else wanted.
I’d known, deep in my heart, that he had been destined for me.
And that he was mine. All mine.
Coming Soon from Totally Bound Publishing:
Marshall Cottage: Master Dan
Natalie Dae
Released 3
rd
October 2014
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Do you like the fact that we possibly give out the wrong idea, Dan?” I stared through the floor-to-ceiling window in our penthouse living room at the shimmering lights of the city.
There was something about this time of night, a blanket of black decorated with speckles of white, yellow, orange and red. It humbled me knowing there were others out there, in their houses or cars or walking the streets, spending the minutes of their lives in the best way they knew how. Daytime didn’t give the same impression and I likened it to
our
life. Two totally different sides to the same thing.
Dan came to stand beside me. I glanced at him, as always taken aback by how wonderful he looked in a suit. Corporate living gave him an air of authority and he wore it well. He was glorious with that dark hair, dark stubble, dark eyes. He had all the hallmarks of a good Master, seeing as he knew how to be in control at work five days a week—except he didn’t want control all the time. Being a manager of a vast company took discipline, but to be like that with no respite had promised to take its toll. That was where I had come in. Where my expertise was needed—to give him the chance to relinquish all worries and let someone else do the ordering around on his behalf.
In reality he was the one still doing the ordering. As much as people who saw us in the Domme-sub role might think the rest of our lives were governed by me, they’d be wrong. He
was
a Master—he dictated how things would go even while camouflaged as a sub.
“Give out the wrong idea?” he asked. “At Marshall Cottage, you mean?”
“Yes.” I returned my attention to outside. “Do you like knowing we’re not as people think?”
A plane streaked along in the distance.
“Of course I like it, but I don’t really give a damn what they think,” he said. “Time at the mansion is for me to de-stress, for you to give me what I need—for me to give you what you need. Once a week, that’s all, and I get a sense of balance back. It’s difficult being strong all the time. What we do there…well, it’s the only way for me to stay sane.”
“Some would say we’re
in
sane.”
“They would—and that would be their opinion, one they’re entitled to. There are so many of them out there, opinions, but it doesn’t mean what they see in us is the truth. We know that. Does it bother you, then? What they think?”
“Good God, no. Not what they think of me.” Had I just lied to him? “I was just thinking of you, that’s all. A client could turn up there at any time. See you with me and think—”
“Think what, that I’m a freak?”
“Possibly.” I smiled. Yes, Dan might appear that way to many, but not those committed to the lifestyle, those who understood it. Which made me think again. “It doesn’t matter, forget I said anything. I just had a thought which nullifies my musings. Those who go to Marshall Cottage have been vetted—they have to be serious in order to attend. If a client did see you—which, let’s face it, is highly unlikely—they’d know why you were—”
“Naked, on my hands and knees with a collar and chain?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t care if they saw me that way. And as you say, if they were at Marshall Cottage then they have penchants they need seeing to as well. It would be rather hypocritical of them to bluster in my office during the day, raving about my Friday night sessions when they had gone there for a similar thing. And what we do, it gives me such a sense of freedom, of belonging, of being cared for, I wouldn’t trade it for someone’s opinion. I thought you realized that, understood it.”
“Oh, don’t get me wrong, I do.” I reached out to take his hand in mine. I stroked the backs of his fingers—so soft. “I suppose, what with me looking out of the window, it got my mind wandering, me thinking about what’s normal and what isn’t. Before I became a working Domme, I wouldn’t have thought any of it was normal. None of it at all. I just knew there was something different in me. That I wanted something more. I had no idea what it was.”
He unlinked our hands then put his arm around my waist. Curled his fingers so the tips rested on my hipbone. Kissed my cheek so gently that I barely felt it.
“So,” he said. “Your problem is? What are we really talking about here?”
“People frowning on
you
. People getting the wrong impression. People…talking about you—and not in a good way. I don’t like the idea of that. It hurts. I couldn’t care what they think about me—at least I don’t think I do. And if I do, I shouldn’t.”
“It’s just the idea of them thinking this way, though,” he said. “They may not think anything at all. And if I don’t care then you shouldn’t either. If it gives me what I need so I can function better, what’s the harm? You know all this. Is there something bothering you? Something else you need to talk about?”
He drew me closer, turned me so I was pressed to his chest. He smoothed his hands up and down my back, washing away the tension there, making absolutely everything all right.
I sighed. “No, it’s just…”
“Just what?”
“Someone the other night.”
“At the cottage?”
“Yes.” I slid my fingers into the back of his waistband.
“Go on.”
“There was a woman there. She watched us for a while. From the look on her face she thought I was a hard-nosed cow who dragged you along behind me. That you were odd for allowing it. As if I kicked you, treated you like an unwanted dog.” I laughed lightly. “I mean, look at you. Hardly the willowy type, are you. And she discussed us with her Master—the nice chap—I saw her. You know the one. We’ve spoken to him about our life a few times.”
“Ah, yes, him. Like you said, nice chap. I imagine he set her straight, then.”
“Perhaps.”
“You must never worry about what people think of me. Us. We like it—or have you discovered you don’t?”
I drew back from him to stare into his brown eyes. “No! Not at all. My worry is for you. As you know, me being a supposed Domme… You found me in that sleazy little place that masquerades as an upmarket BDSM parlor and fails miserably.” I laughed. “Bondage City. Dear me, I was so desperate for a job there—anywhere so I could be myself. And you came along. Remember that?”
“How could I forget?” He stroked my cheek. “My initial taste of being dominated was by you. People might assume I grew attached to you because of it. My teacher, someone I found I couldn’t be without, even after just the first strike. Unhealthy, I imagine some would say, for a student to fall in love with his Domme without trying other Dommes afterwards.”
“Or for a Domme to fall in love with a client.”
About the Author
Natalie Dae is a multi-published author in three pen names writing several genres. She lives with her husband, children, and three cats in an English village. She writes full time and is also a cover artist and blog designer. In another life she was an editor. Her other pen names are Sarah Masters and Charley Oweson.
Email:
[email protected]
Natalie loves to hear from readers. You can find her contact information, website and author biography at
http://www.totallybound.com
.
Also by Natalie Dae
Fantasies Explored: Think Kink
Fantasies Explored: Thinking Kinkier
Fantasies Explored: Kinky Thinking
Marshall Cottage: Master Connor
Bound to the Billionaire: Waiting for Him
What’s her Secret?: The Submissive’s Secret
With Lily Harlem
With Sam Crescent
Totally Bound Publishing
