CHAPTER 45: The Virgin’s Lover, Part 3
… I stare at him. He continues “Fortunately, these days we do have computers.”
“Master? You’re a physicist?”
“Nope. I’m an engineer. But there is a large overlap between the two disciplines.”
“I didn’t know that.”
He purses his lips in that not-quite-smile of his. “You never asked.”
“So, what do you actually do?”
“I’m a design engineer cum architect. Right now, I’m working on the designs and structural calculations for a new bridge, for the company that owns this hotel in fact. Which is why we always have access to this beautiful apartment. My accommodation, when I’m working in town here, is written into the contract. In fact, finite element analysis is a rather large part of the work I do. Let me see what you’re struggling with...”
I shake my head. My Master has depths I never expected.
I stretch and yawn, rubbing my neck.
“Tired?” asks Michael.
“Yeah. A bit stiff too. I need a break.”
Michael’s strong, capable hands massage my stiff neck and shoulders. “Why don’t I go out and bring some food in?”
“We could use room service, save you the trip.”
“I fancy a change,” he says. “Chinese food maybe, or Italian perhaps? James?”
My Master looks up from his laptop. “Sounds good to me. Get what you like.”
Michael vanishes with a clink of car keys, muttering about spring rolls and noodles. Bored, I stare at the door, and then at my Master. I wander over and start to rub his neck, doing for him what Michael just did for me.
He stretches and yawns, but rolls his head appreciatively, back against my hands. “Thanks, but I thought you had work to do?"
“Well, yes, but I need a break.”
“You need a break, so I have to be disturbed?” Humour creases the corners of his eyes.
“Well, I thought Master that perhaps...”
He smiles, takes my hand and kisses the fingers. "I'd love to, but I need to work for now. We'll play later when Michael gets back.”
Piqued, I sit on the couch, staring into space for a minute, then parting my legs, I hitch my skirt a little higher, ensuring that my Master has a good view.
Slowly, I start to rub the silk of my panties. I don’t speak, but after a few moments, my Master glances up, at first casually and then, with a double-take, back again as he registers what I am doing.
He chuckles. “Charlotte, as I say, I really would love to, but later. I have to work right now.” His eyes drop back to his laptop screen, but I continue, stroking my thighs, parting them a little wider.
After a minute, my Master looks up again. He sighs, sitting back in his chair, regarding me with his lean, sombre face. “Girls who tease should be careful,” he says, in his slow, honeyed voice. “They may get more than they bargained for.”
I smile at him, still stroking the dampening fabric of my panties.
“Really, Charlotte,” he says, a note of irritation in his voice.
Tugging open a desk drawer, he takes out a vibe and tosses it to me. “Go on then, if you want to perform for me, get on with it...”
A little disconcerted, I continue. My Master does not smile broadly very often and is normally reserved, but always, under the surface, I can detect my Smiling Master. Where is he now?
I turn the vibe on, to a low setting, tracing my outline through the dampening fabric. Then pulling the crotch to one side, I make a show of sliding it inwards.
He sits, silently, watching me from his desk, chin propped on his hand, face unamused.
Standing suddenly, he strides across the room and grabs me by a wrist, pulling me up, then propels me forwards, through the door of the mirrored room. Leaning me over the end of the bed, he pushes me down, roughly.
“Bend over.”
“Master?”
“Do as you’re told. Bend over.”
Beginning to worry, I lean over the foot of the bed. My Master extracts cuffs from a drawer; not the usual fur-lined, leather cuffs I am accustomed to, but plain, steel cuffs which click tightly shut around my wrists, and then around the bedposts.
He shoves my ankles apart; again, no gentleness, and, from the same drawer, takes out a spreader bar, snapping the cuffs closed around my ankles, forcing them wide apart.
“Master...”
“Spread ‘em, Charlotte... wider...”
My ankles are stretched far apart, much wider than I am used to. Hips aching a little, I totter, and would fall were I not supported by the bed footer.
My Master stands behind me, pushes up my skirt, his hands massaging my lower back and butt. They linger over my butt cheeks, and he trails fingers between over my pussy and clit. His mere touch makes me gasp and wriggle, but I know there is something amiss. There is a jerk and a tug, then another, as with shock I realise that he has simply ripped off my panties.
A single finger hovers around my rapidly swelling clit, circling it, revolving, and my pussy warms and moistens. But although the action is so like Michael’s of only a few hours ago, I sense a different intent.
From behind me, my Master leans over, his chest resting over my spine. “Charlotte, this is what you wanted. But this is going to be about my pleasure, not yours...”
I do not understand what my Master is saying to me, but try to dismiss it, as he kneels behind me, fingers parting my cheeks, opening my swelling folds, displaying my core.
I know what he is doing. He has asked me several times to open myself for him, to display my glistening lips for his enjoyment, as it heats and flows under his attentions. I picture him, behind me, enjoying the view inside my folds as he prepares to fix his lips around my gaping pussy.
As I anticipate, his fingers stretch me open, displaying my welling core, before, after an experimental probe of my pussy, the fingers glide to my clit, flicking, manipulating, squeezing gently.
Panting now, my breath coming quickly, and a flush of arousal spreading up my belly and breasts, I think of my Master’s warm tongue and mouth slipping over my lips and bud. His face is close now and as his tongue skims over my pussy, I gasp and shudder.