MASTERED: (The Novel) (21 page)

While Ethan grunted in rapturous
oblivion beneath her, in her head James magically produced the slotted spatula.
She remembered it only too well. The strong impression it left on her bottom,
and
on her psyche, brought an
involuntary moan to her lips. The muscles in her pussy convulsed spasmodically.

Of a sudden, she was engorged with
desire! Impaled upon Ethan's cock, Missy found purchase at last and bucked
shamelessly against his pubis.

In her mind's eye, James was having
her 'kneel up' in order to present her breasts. His forgiveness would be
absolute, but not before she did penance for her insolence. Mentally, she
hoisted one teat in each hand, pulling them outward and upward for his
convenience. Obediently she lifted her bottom off her heels in order to provide
him easier access. She knew what was coming.

Whore!

Reality imitated fantasy as thick
excretion streamed freely from her body, drenching Ethan's balls. When the
first imaginary stroke of the spatula made contact with the tender flesh of her
breast, the white pain took her breath away. Nine more strokes were
administered, including two directly to each bulbous nipple. Missy shrieked out
a mind-blowing orgasm.

Still panting with sweet release,
she opened tightly clenched eyes. A shit-eating, ear-to-ear grin greeted her.
She had been vaguely aware of Ethan’s moaning through an orgasm of his own. It
was neatly and hygienically deposited into a durable, top-of-the-line condom.

Clearly, he was assuming full
ownership of
her
orgasm. That
was fine with her. She would never tell him that he had precious little to do
with it. It was James who had invaded her mind and completely commandeered her
every sense!

Master…

Chapter 70

Although it irked him to have to
utilize his own spit as lubrication, James masturbated vigorously nonetheless.
A Master is not a Master if bereft of his
submissive.
In the short time it took him to teeter on the brink of
orgasm, his dick was already chafing at the unaccustomed friction.

Still, he perceived that Missy was
right there with him. On bended knee, she gazed up at him with love shining
from her incredible eyes. While James could happily contemplate their depths
for the remainder of his days, there was a more pressing issue at hand. One
which was about to explode, in fact!

He visualized her rising gracefully
from her heels at his request to 'kneel up'. He imagined her expression when
informed her that his desire was to blow his load over her lovely tits. He
could almost see the disbelief at his directive to smile pretty whilst holding
them proudly forth for his orgasmic pleasure.

There was no need to hold back, and
James didn't. He growled his release, coating the distended, if imaginary orbs
in copious amounts of semen.

In reality, of course, he came all
over his own belly and thighs.

And floor. Reaching for the box of
tissue on his desk, James was mystified as to why, in his mind’s eye - Missy's
breasts appeared to be covered with welts…

Chapter 71

James dislodged what's-her-name's
inch-long claws from his thigh and hip-checked her around to the far side of
the circular booth. He was dining at
The
Pitts
, one of the most popular steakhouses in town. Joining him this
evening was His Honorable George T. Weatherly and his most recent
'assistant
',
Bimbo
.

Er
, Brenda.

Whatever.

After ejaculating all over himself
and an ensuing hot shower, James remained on edge. He was coming down hard from
the inexplicable jolt of adrenaline he experienced earlier.

 
He already determined that tomorrow would be
the day he and Missy reunited. He would do whatever was necessary to put this
madness behind them. One was only half without the other. He saw the ravages of
her suffering the day they bumped into each other at the shopping center.

Once back in his loving arms, she
would be punished for her transgression, of course.
 
It was simply a matter of passing the hours
between now and then. James relished the thought of her begging for her
well-deserved chastisement, whatever that might be. He would see to it that she
thank him at its conclusion, as well.

Marking that thought, James dug
ravenously into a choice cut of meat. He was elated to find it seasoned and
grilled to perfection. Sawing off another mouthful before swallowing the first,
he chased it all down with half a glass of premium red wine. Wiping his lips,
he turned his attention to his companions.

Years ago, Judge Georgie had
undergone a mind-blowing sexual awakening. It had been at the hands, and mouth,
of James's deceased wife, Angeline. Apparently, he experienced an epiphany as
well as an orgasm on that miraculous day. A sex-deprived George Weatherly swore
he'd never go 'hungry' again. As God was his witness, no less!

Since then, he was rarely seen
without a very young and very blonde paramour. Today, Barbie,
er
, Brenda, looked to be the approximate age of George’s
youngest grandchild.

She wiggled her way over to James's
side of the table yet again. Yet again, her razor sharp nails imbedded
themselves resolutely into his thigh. Completing the trifecta, James yet again
hip checked her back to George’s side of the table.

It was painfully obviously where her
interest lay. Luckily, when it came to ‘assistants’; George wasn't exactly the
jealous type. He made no qualms about it. What was his was James's.

While unable to remember her first
name, James was sure that her middle name was
Tenacity.
Defending against Tenacity's repeated advances was
becoming a bit of a challenge for James. The adrenaline that raced through his
bloodstream earlier had suddenly turned to sludge. Instantly and utterly
sapped, it felt as though he just completed an Olympic decathlon. His eyelids
began to close of their own accord.

It was then that he saw her. Missy
and an attractive older man were just being seated. Their table was directly
within his line of vision. If he glanced in George’s direction, there was no
escaping the smiling couple just beyond him.

Couple??

James couldn't remember feeling this
hopeless since the day Angeline had died in his arms.

Chapter 72

The water washed over her in
torrents. Still, Missy dared not close her eyes. She was afraid the sight of
that trashy bimbo fawning all over James might be indelibly imprinted on her
eyelids. Feeling dirty and deflated, she turned the shower on full blast and
punished herself, allowing the piping-hot needles to sear her flesh.

After disembarking from Ethan's cock
as quickly as humanly possible, they decided to carry on with their previously
interrupted plans. Missy was not a malicious woman. She felt terribly that she
misled him, even if it weren't her intent.

He did, however, maintain that
asinine ‘I-da-man’ smirk long past its expiration date. Missy sighed. She was
probably just jealous. She would be on top of the world too - had she felt even
one shiver of desire for this man.

They’d just ordered when Missy
noticed Stephanie's husband, George, approaching their table. Pleasantly
surprised to see him, she smiled warmly. She was just about to ask after her
friend when the rest of his party came into view. Words and breath abandoned
her. Not for one second did it occur to her that the garish woman accompanying
them was with George!

She couldn't recall a single word of
the stilted small talk that ensued. She only knew that somehow, it had.
Reluctantly exiting the now-cold shower, Missy noted that not only did James
play havoc with her emotions; he did nothing for her appetite, either. Even
through the swirling steam, she could make out her protruding collar bones in
the vanity mirror.

Sighing, she wrapped her damp hair
in a makeshift turban and knotted a towel around her body. She was reaching for
the doorknob when she heard it. It sounded like wood splintering followed by a
thud followed by nothing.

Dead silence…

Frozen in mid-reach, Missy prayed
she might have imagined it, but knew she hadn’t. Her mind, sharp now, quickly
explored her limited options. Her phone was in her purse, but her purse was in
the kitchen. She kept a bat beside the front door, and now she panicked at the
thought of someone advancing towards her with it in
their
hands.

Silently, she cracked the door half
an inch and peeked out. Seeing no one and hearing nothing, she grabbed the only
‘weapon’ she could find; a pair of manicure scissors. They were barely a step
up from the plastic kindergarten variety. Emboldened by the silence, Missy
tip-toed from the bathroom and crept along the hall towards her phone.

She was stunned to hear the
unmistakable click of her television as it came to life.

Her worst fears were realized.
Someone had broken into her home and at that very moment was seated in her
living room - watching television!

Chapter 73

“Well, good
evenin
'
doll face! Miss me?”

Luke Weaver, her brutish ex-husband,
had crossed a line he’d never dared approach previously. Considering their
history, Missy had every right to be terrified, and she was. With his filthy
boots propped insolently on her coffee table, he looked agitated and wild-eyed.
It was obvious that he hadn't slept in days and was desperate for a fix.
A dangerous combination indeed.

The stink of him added credence to
her conclusion. What was left of his hair hung well past his
shoulders.
To call it unkempt and greasy would be paying it a compliment. Incredibly, his
once-washboard belly was even more bloated than the last time she saw it. If he
were a woman; one would swear it was triplets!

Luke cackled as he waved what looked
to be a check in the air.
“
Lookie
here what I found in
yer
mailbox, baby.
Twenty-five G's! A shitload of cash
fer
a little twat
such as
yerself
!
Ya
must be
fucking the hell out of
Mis-ter
J. Colton, huh? I’m
thinkin
' that if it's worth twenty-five grand to
Mis-ter
J. Colton, it's time
fer
ole Luke to find out what new tricks
ya
been
learnin
’.”

Rocking his considerable weight over
to one buttock, he made a show of tucking the check into his back pocket. “
Ya
don’t mind
givin
' ole Luke a
little
somethin
’-
somethin
'
fer
free, do
ya
baby?
Fer
old time’s
sake?

Missy couldn't remember ever being
this frightened. Buying time, she began to babble. “Luke, what are you doing
here? I thought you were staying with your mom? You didn't say anything about
stopping by. Christopher will be home any minute...” She knew she must sound
like a complete idiot, but she kept at it as she sidled her way over to where
she’d left her purse.

Grinning like a loon, Luke pointed
to the floor. Missy's heart sank along with all hope. Her purse was leaning
against the sofa directly beneath his legs. A hulking two hundred and twenty
pounds gasped and grunted with exertion. Unsteadily, Luke rose to his feet and
started towards her. Missy realized that he wasn't just crazy; he was
completely blotto as well.

“Is this what
yer
lookin
' for, bitch? Slurring, Luke shoved her,
brandishing her wallet in one hand, phone in the other. She was effectively
trapped in her own home. Trapped by the man she'd sworn out complaints against not
once, but
twice!
Missy was positive
she was about to become just another domestic violence statistic.

Luke shoved her again. She hadn't
regained her balance from his first assault, and now, she couldn't maintain it
at all. She went down hard, knocking the breath from her lungs and the scissors
from her hand. The towel that once defended her modesty was now a useless pile
of damp cloth just beyond her reach.

“
Yer
lookin
' mighty tasty these days, bitch...”

She felt the bile rise in her throat
when Luke fell heavily to his knees and began to crawl up on top of her. His
words rang in her ears.

Finally, blessedly, she lost
consciousness…

Chapter 74

James saw the broken lock and
unhinged door and was horrified. Gone was the fatigue that dogged him since the
adrenaline high turned
bad.
If anything happened to
Missy, he would not be able to live with himself. Especially when he knew the
flimsy lock was virtually useless months ago. More decorative than protective,
he despised himself for doing nothing about it.