The Whip Master Page 6

  "What's this, little subbie?" he asked lightly, hugging her back.

  "Thank you for allowing me to be here tonight, Master."

  "You're welcome. You also know that this breach of conduct has earned you a spanking, correct?" Fifty's eyes brightened and she nodded eagerly, making Dorian laugh. "I see. So all this attention left you wanting. Come see me when both our schedules are clear tomorrow."

  "Yes, Master! Good night. Good night, One." Fifty hugged the woman and then quickly raced out of the room to follow the new trainee and Mr. Smythe.

  Chapter Five

  "What do you think?" Dorian asked One as he removed his clothes for bed.

  "I think Fifty is ready to up her game," One said with a chuckle. "That is, if you are the coach. She is in love with you."

  "Yes, I know. Do you realize she is the only maid I have not touched intimately?"

  One grabbed his arm. "Are you serious? Never?"

  "My instructions to the handlers were to wait for her to invite intimate play when she was ready and to then bring her to me. As far as I know, she has not approached any of them."

  "That poor child must be starving for pleasure! How could she not be, with all she witnesses here?" One shook her head. "What are you smiling about? Dorian? Is that why you had her observe? A double mind-fuck? You cad!"

  "I'm a cad, am I?" Dorian asked. He snatched One in his arms and flipped her onto the bed before climbing on top of her. "Why are you laughing? Cads are despicable and untrustworthy."

  "Because you are my cad! What are you doing with that thing?" One giggled, pointing at his rigid cock.

  "A good mind-fuck needs to be followed up with an ever better round of sex."

  "Well, since you did all the work, how about if you just lie back and let me show you how it's done?"

  "You aren't feeling very submissive tonight are you, my love?" Dorian asked, as One shoved him roughly onto his back.

  "Do you really need to ask me that after what I just saw? Hush and let me enjoy you."

  Dorian's eyebrow raised as One lowered herself between his knees and brought her mouth to the head of his bobbing organ. She blew softly, opening her warm lips to surround the tip—not touching him just yet, just breathing… teasing… taunting. Those same lips encased him and began a dance over his manhood. She sucked gently, fluttering her tongue around the ridge of the head and across the tiny slit.

  He reeled slightly, grabbing the blanket underneath him in his fist.

  "Do you like that?" One asked, bringing her talented mouth away. "If you're tired and want to sleep, I can stop."

  Dorian growled. "Don't be a tease. Give me what you've got."

  His wife grinned and, in one smooth move, engulfed his entire length in her mouth. He groaned, lost in the sensations of her mouth and tongue as she slid her hand up the inside of his thigh and gently squeezed his tightening sack.

  "Turn around," he whispered hoarsely.

  One quickly obeyed, spreading her knees and offering him free access to whatever pink parts he wished to enjoy. He studied her pale folds, lingering at the lips as he compared her beautiful pussy to the hundreds of others he had seen. How she managed to maintain its youth was a mystery. Her outer lips were plump and full, and her inner folds still as tight as a virgin's. Even with clamping play, where he would hang swinging weights to tight, metal clips attached to her sex, her skin retained a firm, unstretched appeal. He probed her wetness, distracting her from her activity.

  "Sweetheart," One panted. "You know I need to concentrate when I go down on you."

  "That sounds like something you need to work on, then," he sniggered, his mouth drawing closer to her sweetness. "Let's see who has more self-control. We can put a wager on it."

  One was already groaning as he widened her with his thumbs. He dipped his tongue into her intoxicating wetness, nibbling and nuzzling the hardening nub with expert ministrations. He bit down gently, and she completely forgot about using her mouth in reciprocation. He chuckled with satisfaction against her hungry flesh, relentless in his goal to prove his power over her body. He pulled her clit between his lips, flicking it with his tongue. One bucked against him, her body tensed, and her low moan rose to a pleasured howl as she released herself against his mouth. He did not allow her to depart from his lips until she begged for him to stop, collapsing on top of his hard body like a rag doll.

  "I win," he whispered, as she crawled to his side and melted in his arms.

  "You always do," One sighed. She kissed his shoulder. "That's because I let you, you know."

  "Oh, really?" Dorian squeezed her playfully. "Would you like to go for round two? Or perhaps, two out of three?"

  "Mmm," his wife moved her mouth to his nipple. "Think you can hang?"

  "Watch me."

  Dorian slowly sat up in bed the following morning and stretched. He glanced over at One's naked body and smiled. She had lost all three rounds, and finally fallen asleep sated. He mused as his thoughts shifted to the beliefs and protocols of the other 'houses'. His greatest pleasure was in the control of the body and the mind, and when that control meant giving pleasure, he was immensely satisfied. His mind shifted to Dorothy. It had been a long time since the Manor had had a true masochist, but he knew he would have to tread carefully in uncovering whatever it was that had traumatized her. Elias would enjoy that one, for certain.

  "Come in, Fifty." His attention shifted to the knock at his door.

  "Good Morning, Master Graye," Fifty said cheerfully, her hands full with a silver coffee serving tray. She placed it on the table, prepared his cup and brought it to him. She knelt on the floor after he accepted it and waited for his instructions.

  "That is an interesting flavor," he observed, eyeing his little assistant. "And you seem to be quite chipper. Is there something you would like to tell me?"

  "If it could wait until One is awake, I would like to speak with both of you, sir. And the flavor is vanilla. Prince Jamal brought a jar of fresh pods after he discovered I liked them."

  "He is quite fond of you. Would you like to serve in his household?"

  "He is very kind and his maids are happy. I just…" She paused. "I would not be opposed, but he would not be my first choice."

  "I gave him permission to bid on you."

  "Yes, sir, I know."

  "He is one of the few whom I would trust with caring for you."

  "Yes, sir. Thank you."

  "Fifty? Oh, my sweet darling! Coffee!" One groaned, rolling onto her back. Fifty giggled and quickly rose to prepare her a cup. "Dorian, I feel like a lump of pudding. Thank you." One accepted her coffee and patted the bed to invite Fifty to join them. "Pour yourself a cup, darling. I want to talk to both of you."

  Fifty balked and looked to Dorian for permission. He nodded.

  "Fifty actually wanted to speak with us about something as well."

  "Me, first. Our wedding anniversary is this weekend," One began, stroking Fifty's hair affectionately. "I've decided on the gift I want you to give me."

  "Oh, you have?" Dorian asked with amusement. "Since when do you tell me how I am going to surprise you?"

  "Since now, since I am feeling quite satisfied and a little cheeky," One said with a cheesy smile. "We have never shared our bed with a third person. I would like to experience that. I want the two of you to find a third and surprise me."

  "One…" Dorian said with a warning tone.

  "Yes, Dorian?" the woman asked innocently. "Are you opposed to sharing our bed with another woman, even for one night?"

  "I know what you are up to. Fifty? I am warning you—do not get caught up in her scheming."

  "Honestly, Master, that is what I wanted to speak to both of you about. I would like to stay here and work for you instead of being contracted on auction."

  Dorian sighed and took her hand. "I know the auction scares you. We talked about this before. This is an issue of integrity and, as such, I cannot exclude myself from policy. It is a conflict of interest and w
ill result in hurting this establishment. No."

  "But, Dorian—" One began.

  "Ladies, listen to me. You both know I love Fifty. She has become an important part of our private life and is like family to me. Because of that, I want the best for her. We are not the best for her. We cannot give her a husband, children, or a normal life."

  "Life as a maid is not normal."

  "Stop pouting, One. No, it is not. But to the outside world, it can be. Fifty, don't cry. I promise that whoever takes possession of you will be worthy. If he doesn't work out for you, I will keep looking until I find the perfect Master to own your heart, not just your body."

  "Promise, Master Graye?"

  "I promise, sweetheart. Now, are the two of you done scheming? Good," he said as they both nodded sadly. "If you are serious about a third, One, I have an idea."

  "Who?"

  "Marilyn. She asked me to introduce her to our world."

  "Really?" One leaned forward. "Would she be open for me to play?"

  "I suspect she would be more open to you than to me," Dorian answered with a wink. "She hasn't lost her virginity for a reason. Fifty? Fifty!"

  One shook her head as the little maid fled from the room in tears. "That was not very sensitive of you."

  "Perhaps not, but I expect my maids to behave in a certain manner, even under duress. I'm afraid her play spanking just turned into a punishment."

  "Be kind to her. This is difficult for her."

  "When have I not been kind? My refusal to alter my policies is about integrity. It doesn't matter if any of you agree, that's how it is. Understood?"

  "But…"

  "Am I understood?" His tone darkened along with his eyes, making it difficult for One to maintain eye contact.

  "Yes, sir."

  "Get dressed. We have a long day today." Dorian ordered gruffly. He left the bed and went straight into the shower, locking the door behind him. Annoyance occupied his thoughts as the steam and water penetrated his flesh. Why couldn't they understand that the rules were set for a purpose? Why did they have to push? His mood soured. This was not the way to start the Festival…

  ***

  The maids scurried out of his way as he stormed through the halls and into his office. Fifty looked up from her desk, her eyes red from crying and clearly surprised to see him.

  "Master? I…" she sank to the floor.

  "I am very disappointed with your behavior, young lady. Very disappointed. I raised you better than this."

  "Yes, sir," she wept. "I'm sorry."

  "I can put up with an occasional bout of pouting from those in my household. I can even forgive a little bit of backtalk now and then, but to have a tantrum and run out without being excused is unacceptable."

  "Yes, Master," Fifty sniveled, her face still to the floor.

  Dorian paced in front of her. "Master Elias warned me not to allow you to become too close to my intimate space. He didn't feel you were mature enough to understand or accept the boundaries between the personal and professional. He was correct."

  "A-are you firing me?" Fifty looked up at him in horror.

  "No, I am not firing you. But you will be severely disciplined. This behavior must never be seen by a client. It is unbecoming of a Graye Maid in any form. Stand up."

  Fifty rose to her feet, her face still lowered to the floor in shame. Dorian walked around her, his hand resting on the crop that he always carried at his hip. "When we are done here, you are to report to Mrs. Lyon. You will spend the remainder of this weekend in the kitchens."

  The young woman's face fell. "I can't participate in the Festival?"

  "No. You are grounded. I will have One handle the interviews. Go stand in the corner while I calm down."

  He ignored the plaintive sob that accompanied her obedience and sat at his desk to shuffle through the auction requests. Three Masters had listed Fifty to be of interest. One was Jamal, who'd checked 'Administrative Support'. That meant he was only interested in her skills, not her body. A second client, Qian Tin, had requested 'Valet', the term Graye Manor used for the private maids directly responsible for attending to the Master or Mistress with personal care, companionship and some secretarial duties. Dorian glanced through the man's paperwork. The old, China-born man was nicknamed 'The Tin Man'—not because he lacked a heart, but because he was a whiner and required an excessive amount of 'oily' TLC to keep him happy. Because of that, he went through personal maids like most people go through cheap couches. He treated them well, and his attempts to make them happy were sincere, so he was often a good choice for the women who were uncertain regarding their ability to serve in a more intimate environment. The advantage was that Mr. Tin was impotent, so there would be no direct sexual involvement. He did enjoy the use of toys, however, and was said to be both creative and satisfying.

  The third applicant was a new client, Gregory Carmichael. He was looking for a 'Scullery Maid'. This position, although viewed as the lowest in rank, was also the one most likely to result in a long-term relationship. The scullery maid performed all the duties of the household—from cooking to cleaning, assisting the Master in personal care, and being available for whatever services he required, including sexual. Dorian opened his file to explore further.

  The client was thirty-two, an entrepreneur and self-made millionaire who enjoyed the finer things in life. His history in BDSM was limited to play parties and events, which he rated as 'unsatisfactory' in meeting his needs, commenting that he tired quickly of shallow hedonism and desired a companion who had intelligence, depth and loyalty. He had no interest in a poly relationship, and marriage and family was the ultimate goal. His references were excellent, he was active in his local community (reducing the risk of exposure), and he would be considered handsome by a woman's standards. He also had several residences—one in Texas, one in Japan, and a third in Greece.

  Dorian glanced up at his submissive, who stood trembling in the corner. So why had she check 'no' for the auction? She'd had the option to comment, but did not. That would have to be dealt with later.

  "Fifty? Stand in front of my desk."

  She was not a pretty crier, he mused. Red nose, puffy eyes, swollen lips—and yet, her demeanor still held a childlike charm. He tapped on his desk with a pen, watching as she struggled to maintain eye contact. Yes, it was easy for a submissive to look away when she misbehaved—it spared her the shame of being viewed. His way, however, forced her to face both the consequences, and the look of disappointment that came with disobedience.

  "You have quite a bit of explaining to do, young lady. I suggest you begin."

  "There is nothing to explain, Master," Fifty said quietly, her gaze dropping to the desk. She raised it as he snapped his fingers at her. "I was jealous."

  "Yes, I know you were jealous. What are my rules about that particular subject?"

  "Feeling jealous is acceptable, acting jealously is not."

  "Specify."

  Fifty shifted from her left to her right foot, nibbling on her lower lip as she fought back a new onslaught of tears. "I am allowed to feel any way I want to as long as I present myself appropriately and do not force my feelings onto anyone else."

  "And what are my rules about emotions?"

  "That if I am ever uncomfortable or confused, I only have to ask to talk with you."

  "Have I ever refused discussing anything with you in the three years we have been together?"

  "No, sir." Her eyes shifted.

  He waited for her to raise them again. "Have I ever invalidated your feelings or made you feel ashamed of anything you have shared with me?"

  "No, Master."

  "Then explain your behavior."

  "I wanted to be part of your anniversary with One. Not Marilyn. She isn't even a maid!" Fifty broke into sobs. "I love you both so much. I want to be part of your family. I want you to make love to me."

  There! She'd finally said it. Dorian twined his fingers together and leaned forward. "Do you remember what you s
aid you wanted most in the world when you first came here?" He did not wait for her to answer. "You told me that your needs were simple. A good job, a great husband, a couple of kids and a little house. You wanted a simpler life than the world you were raised in—the world that betrayed you. You now have a chance for that life, and you are running from it."

  "My needs have changed," she whispered.

  "Your wants have changed, not your needs. Eyes up, girl. Why did you say no to Mr. Carmichael's request?"

  Fifty bit her lip and shook her head. "I don't know."

  "Must I add lying to your punishment?"

  Fifty paled and she quickly shook her head. "No, sir, I mean I know, but I don't know why. I mean…"

  "Calm down. Did you like him?"

  "I found him pleasant, Master."

  "Was there no attraction? Intellectual, physical, social?"

  "There was plenty of attraction. Too much."

  "Explain. Dear God, will you stop with the tears? Annie!" he shouted.

  Hearing her old name shocked Fifty into solemnness. "He reminded me of you, Master. His appearance, demeanor, even the way he tapped his finger on the chair when he was thinking. Like that," she pointed to Dorian's hand. He stopped immediately. "I am afraid that if I went with him, I would fall in love. I mean…"

  "Pretending he was me," Dorian stated soberly. "You didn't want to mislead him in case he started to have feelings for you."

  "Yes, Master."

  Dorian tapped his finger on the edge of the desk. "Is that the behavior of a Graye Maid?"

  The young woman looked back at him with an unwavering stare.

  "Yes, sir. It is. A Graye Maid is to reflect the Manor. To serve with Pride, Integrity, Loyalty and Love."

  "Have you ever thought about those words and what they represent? They spell P.I.L.L." Dorian stood, walked around to the front of the desk and turned Fifty to face him. He tucked his index finger under her chin and kissed her forehead. "That is what it means when I tell you that the true meaning of service is a hard pill to swallow. I'm proud of you."

  The smile of gratitude lit up her red face. He kissed her forehead again and then walked to the cabinet to retrieve a cane.