Switch Master: 6 (Ink and Kink) (17 page)

“Don’t scare me like that,” she admonished, turning back to
her task of making breakfast. There were four slices of whole-wheat bread
already browned on a plate beside a jar of Nutella, strawberry jelly and two
glasses of apple juice.

“You’re asking for trouble,” he warned, tossing the brush to
the coffee table in the sitting room before walking up behind her.

“Are you hungry? I’m afraid I’m not much of a cook, but I
can handle toast. I’m also fabulous with microwave dinners,” she said, turning
back to her task.

“Go find something else to wear.”

“This is fine. Have a seat at the table,” she replied,
daring to wave him away. “I’ll serve you.”

“That onesie was a gag gift from Ethan for Christmas five
years ago. It’s meant to be worn as pajamas. I should’ve destroyed it.”

“It’s rather comfy. It was in your closet so it was fair
game.”

“It’s ugly, doll.” Calling it ugly hardly did the onesie
justice. It resembled a great big candy cane with multiple candy canes in the
front and rear.

Samantha ignored his comment and carried the plate of toast
to the table. She returned to the counter, picked up the jelly and Nutella and
took it to the table too.

“You could’ve picked one of my tee shirts, a dress shirt or
a sweatshirt and you’d have fared better,” he continued. “You’d look amazing in
one of my shirts, Samantha.”

“That’s sweet of you to say, thank you. But I’m rather
comfortable in this,” she said.

Even though she turned to retrieve the glasses of juice from
the kitchenette counter, he didn’t miss the swath of red crossing her pretty
cheeks. Well, what do you know? He sensed she was testing his mettle, something
he hadn’t banked on her doing this soon.

“Are you prepared for the consequences of wearing that?” he
asked.

“I’ve not disobeyed you,” she stated, turning to look at
him.

“You knew I did not intend for you to cover yourself from
head to toe.”

“You should have been more specific. Had you said I could
pick one thing from the drawer of negligees and teddies, I’d have chosen
something from there.”

Samantha was determined to walk down this path. Very well,
Taran was more than prepared to deal with her.

“Come here, Samantha,” he told her.

She walked up with two glasses of apple juice. “Would you
prefer coffee? We have one of those Keurig one-cup coffeemakers at work. It’s
awesome, but I’d not known they make smaller units like yours.”

“I’ll make coffee in a minute or two. Give me the glasses.”

She handed them over dutifully. “I’ll get some knives to
spread the jam and Nutella. Do you prefer butter?”

Taran backed up, placed the glasses on the table and looked
at her. “Put your hands on your head, interlock your fingers and hold that
way.”

Her brow rose, her eyes widening. “Are you going to handcuff
me?”

“Now is not the time to question your Master. Do it or
strip.”

“I’m not stripping right now.”

He bent his head slightly, making sure he met her
eye-to-eye. “Do as I told you. Place your hands on your head.”

She waited briefly before complying, standing very straight
and tall. Ugly onesie aside, Samantha was the most beautiful woman he’d ever
known. He’d get the outfit off her when he was ready.

“Don’t move, doll. Not one little step,” he warned, moving
away.

Deliberately keeping himself out of sight, he went to a
dresser in the corner of the sitting room that he kept stocked with sex toys,
cuffs and ropes. Selecting a strap-on harness and a small finger-thick
multi-setting clit-hugging vibrator, he also found a small anal toy that could
stimulate her without penetrating farther than her sphincter.

Taking the items and heading back to her, he was pleased to
find that she hadn’t moved. She stood calmly, still tall, though minute tremors
revealed themselves in her fingers linked on top of her head.

“Aren’t you a good submissive to obey your Master,” he
praised, hoping she got a kick out of it.

“Am I allowed to speak, Master Taran?”

“You may.”

“What are you going to do to me?”

“Nothing that would hurt you,” he said, intending on easing
any lingering soreness she may be feeling and when she was ready, giving her
extensive pleasure.

“The toast is getting cold,” she commented.

“Doesn’t matter, I’ll re-toast it for a few seconds before
we eat.”

She sighed heavily, though not fearfully. He was glad she
stood close enough to the dinette table that he could set everything down,
keeping it in easy reach.

“Don’t be nervous now,” he murmured, moving up close to her
back and hugging his arms around her. One advantage of the onesie was the
buttoned-up flap in the back.

“Not nervous,” she whispered.

“You trust me to take care of you? That I’ll make sure
nothing bad comes of what happens next?”

“Yes I do. You caught me last night. You’ll take care of me
today.”

“Very good, doll,” he said.

“Should I close my eyes?”

“No, train your eyes on the coffeemaker sitting on the
counter.”

“Okay. I’m sorry if I upset you. The onesie was warm and it
looked cozy.”

“That may be so. You chose to wear it to provoke me,
correct?”

“Yes, Master.”

“Then you shall be rewarded…on my terms. Be advised that I’m
going to tear this thing off you at some point this afternoon and fuck you
until you’re hoarse from screaming my name. Once you’re naked, no more clothes
until morning.”

“Nothing?”

“No.”

“Will you be gentle with me?”

“Did I say gently?”

“Ohmigod, I love when you’re rough,” she admitted in a rush,
trembling openly even as he smelled the telltale scent of feminine arousal.

Placing a kiss to the back of her head, he squeezed his arms
around her tightly then let go.

“Steady, you’re going to feel really good, very soon now.
First, we’re going to warm you up right where you need it most. Okay?”

“Okay, thank you.”

With quick efficiency, he unbuttoned the flap at her
backside. She gasped, jolting right up to her toes.

“Taran,” she said. “Wait!”

“Relax, it’ll be okay,” he reassured, peeling down the flap
to expose her fantastic ass.

“I’ll try.” Now that he could see her fine ass, he was the
one who shook. She had a fantastic figure, one perfectly made for him.

“You may not be ready for my cock, Samantha,” he declared,
tempted to place bite marks all over the twin globes. “But I think you’re ready
for some anal play.”

He waited to see if she’d object. She didn’t. Turning a
little to the side, he picked up the harness, fitted the small finger-like toys
into their designated places front and back then faced Samantha.

She remained as he’d told her. Extremely proud of her, he
stroked her ass with the leather strap, letting her feel the softness of the
well-tanned leather.

“This is a strap-on harness. Can you smell the leather?”

“It’s intoxicating, familiar because it reminds me of the
jacket you were wearing last night.”

“You like leather, same as I do. I’m going to put this on
you. You okay with that?”

“So far, you’re not doing anything frightening.”

“You need to say yes or no.”

“Yes.”

“The triangle of the harness will fit snugly to your pussy,
especially at your clit. At first, you’ll only feel warmth. It’ll help ease
your soreness.”

“Okay, yes, go ahead.”

“There’s a protrusion in the back, it’ll tease your
asshole.”

“It won’t hurt?”

“Give it a try. If it does, I’ll adjust it.”

“Thank you. Yes.”

Taran maneuvered the harness into place, fitting it to her
exactly as he’d said. No sooner than she felt the pinkie-thin anal toy, she
breathed in and out harshly.

“Maybe we should rethink this,” she murmured.

“Nothing’s going to penetrate you…much. It’ll feel good.”
Reaching over to grab the remote, he set the clit toy on warm. He didn’t want
to overwhelm her or rush her to climax.

“I like that. Umm, yes, this is very nice.” She shifted
slightly, humming softly.

Pleased that she didn’t object to the toys, he buttoned up
the onesie and patted her ass, intentionally causing the anal stimulator to
brush her asshole.

“Taran, that…shouldn’t feel so good!” she rasped out, though
the more he patted, the more she squiggled and squirmed, her body naturally
seeking further stimulation.

“Does it feel good, doll?”

“It does.”

“Is the warmth good for you? If it’s too hot, I can turn it
down.”

“It’s perfect.”

“I was going to apply warm compresses to your pretty pussy
today. I still may do that if the soreness lingers. For now, I think this’ll
make you feel really good and get you to relax during breakfast.”

“I’m relaxed.” She was incredibly tense. He’d take care of
that, of her.

“Why don’t you have a seat?”

“I can’t,” Samantha objected.

“Sure you can.”

“That toy poking my ass is going to make it impossible.”

Taran placed his hands on her shoulders. “Try sitting. It
won’t hurt. It’ll tickle a little.” Guiding her into a chair, he helped her sit
comfortably and waited close by to make sure she wasn’t going to bolt.

“Whoa. Why do you have to be right about this?”

“When it comes to sex, I always know what’s best. Stay here
and I’ll finish getting breakfast ready. Sip your juice. I’ve got some Advil in
my medicine cabinet. Would you like some to ease the soreness?”

“Maybe,” she answered, attempting to relax. “Let’s eat
first. I’ll decide afterward.”

Taran took the plate of toast back to the small kitchenette,
added two slices to the toaster and turned it to the lowest setting so that the
toast wouldn’t get too dark. The slices popped up and he repeated the process
with two more.

Carrying the toast and a butter knife back to the table, he
set the plate down and told her to start eating while he made coffee. A long
time ago, he’d learned she liked her coffee black with two spoonfuls of sugar.

It didn’t take long to make two mugs. His single-serve
coffeemaker was convenient, though he preferred using the reusable filter that
came with the Keurig to save money by buying a big can of ground coffee.

He added sugar to both mugs once the coffee was done, adding
French vanilla creamer to his. With a coffee cup in each hand, he joined her at
the table, placing her mug next to a paper plate with a half-eaten slice of
toast smeared with Nutella.

“I hope it’s okay that I made myself at home in your
kitchen,” Samantha said.

“Feel free, consider everything you see here as much yours
as it is mine.”

“You eat breakfast in the buff often?” Samantha asked after
he sat across from her.

“Clothes aren’t always necessary.”

“Aren’t you worried about crumbs getting in strange places?
Or hot coffee?”

He smirked as he sipped his coffee, thinking about what
she’d asked. “Never been a problem before. If I spilled coffee on myself, would
you kiss it all better?”

“I’d get you a cold cloth or some ice,” she said, flushing.
“If Ethan and Morgan were home, would you be naked?”

“In here, sure,” he answered. “If they knock, I put
something on.”

“Ethan really didn’t like when you wore a towel around
Morgan when they first got together,” she commented, the slice of toast halfway
to her mouth.

“He got over it. What can I say? It wasn’t my fault his
woman couldn’t take her eyes off me. I’m a hunk.”

“Humility and modesty are not in the Maddox vocabulary, are
they?”

“Not really. If you want me to put on some shorts, ask.”

Her eyes darted up and down his body, her cheeks flushing.
“Like what you see, doll?” he asked.

“Hmm, yes, very much,” she admitted, squirming some in her seat.
“Better be careful, Taran, your toast will get cold,” she said, barely hiding a
teasing grin by taking a generous bite of toast.

“How’re you feeling over there?”

“I’m fine,” she answered softly.

He’d set the remote control on the table. At any time, she
could have reached over and turned it off or up.

She either hadn’t needed to or she was enjoying the gentle
warmth easing any lingering discomfort. Making a point of pulling the remote to
his side of the table, he picked up a butter knife and the jar of Smucker’s,
slathering a slice of toast with strawberry jam.

“Would you like to call Luke after we’re done eating?”

“Definitely, we should make sure he shovels out Glenda’s
car,” she said.

“I’ll call the snowplow service Ethan, Phalen and I use and
see if they can add Glenda Davis’ driveway to their list.”

“That’d be great,” Samantha said.

“Maybe we could venture out when the storm ends and take
care of the reserved parking spaces across the street and the walkway in front
of the house.”

“I’m more than willing to help,” she agreed. “But shoveling
in nothing but this onesie would make it difficult.”

“I’ll find something for you to wear. When we get back in
here, how long you remain clothed will be up to me.”

“Sounds intriguing,” she admitted, reaching for her coffee
mug.

Taran sipped from his, enjoying the simplicity of watching
her eat. He still hated the onesie she was wearing, but it was cold outside and
he’d granted her the right to pick one thing out of his closet.

From the kitchenette, they could hear the grating sound of a
plow scraping snow from the street. Turning his head to look out the window
across the room, he saw that the snow had lightened up considerably.

“I’ve got some interesting news for you about Phalen,” Taran
offered as a change of subject. “It’s still in the preliminary stages, but he
and Alex Grant are looking into buying out the owner of the dojo next to
Phalen’s shop in Salem.”