Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 93751 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 469(@200wpm)___ 375(@250wpm)___ 313(@300wpm)
At his touch, everything else fell away, and Hannah came. And came… And came…
Chapter 25
Mason sent the others away while he saw to Hannah’s aftercare. He was impressed with how well she’d handled what had to have been quite a difficult scene for her. It was one reason he’d chosen that particular spanking bench—to allow her the refuge of hiding her face when she needed to. She wasn’t quite ready to look her task Masters in the eye and accept their bidding with head held high. That would come in time.
Apart from being a sexy and, in his estimation, very successful scene, Hannah’s response further solidified what had been growing in his mind the more they spent time together. There was definitely a slave lurking beneath that innocent exterior. When she could get out of her own way, Hannah demonstrated real potential as a full-on submissive.
After removing the toys and treating the welts inflicted by Lawrence’s cane, Mason released the leather straps that held Hannah down. She swayed a little as he helped her from the bench to the ground. Her hair was tousled, her eyes fever-bright, her color still high.
He placed his hands on her shoulders to steady her. Again, he had that absurd desire to kiss her. It was his own damn fault. He never should have given in to his teenage impulse in the kitchen. That kiss had cracked a door he’d thought was locked. And damn it all, he only wanted to open it wider…
He dismissed the thought with a slight shake of his head. At least for the time being, now that he’d signed up as her trainer, he would need to remain on a professional footing. It was essential he keep his emotions under control and his dick in his pants. While it irritated the crap out of him that Anthony had allowed her hard limits, that didn’t relieve him of the responsibility of observing and respecting those limits.
Now he smiled down at his charge. “You did well, Hannah, except for one thing. You failed to ask permission when you came.”
“I couldn’t help—” she began.
He cut her off with a sharp shake of the head. “A slave girl doesn’t offer excuses. She acknowledges her mistake and accepts whatever her Master deems is the appropriate response.”
A play of emotions moved over Hannah’s pretty face—part indignation, part fear, part contrition. To her credit, however, she pressed her lips together and gave a quick nod.
“I’m not going to punish you,” he added, amused at the nearly comical look of relief that flashed over her features. “You’ll be feeling those welts Lawrence gave you for a little while longer. That should be enough of a reminder.”
Letting go of her shoulders, he took a step back. “I think you’ve had enough communal play for tonight. Let’s go upstairs.”
He led her out of the dungeon and up to his suite. Once inside the room, he shut the door. Hannah appeared to be pretty wiped out. After the intensity of the session, she was probably experiencing some degree of sub drop. A little TLC was in order.
Mason retrieved two bottles of chilled water from the small refrigerator he kept in the play area. He handed Hannah one and took the other for himself. As she sipped hers, he suggested, “How about a nice hot bath?”
“That would be wonderful, Sir,” Hannah agreed.
In the bathroom, he said, “You may use the toilet if you wish while I get the water going.”
Unlike earlier that day, this time she readily sat on the toilet. Mason smiled to himself, thinking how quickly she was learning. Maybe five days would be enough, after all. If nothing else, it would be a very good beginning. He could refine her skills and obedience over time…
While she peed, he turned on the tap to fill the tub. As an afterthought, he grabbed a bottle of bath oil and poured some into the water. Deciding he might as well seize the moment, Mason picked up his toothbrush.
When Hannah emerged from the toilet, he said through a mouthful of toothpaste, “Might as well do your teeth too since we’re in for the night.”
With a nod, she approached the sinks. When she was done with her ablutions, Hannah performed that most sub-like of gestures. Facing the full-length mirror on the back of the linen closet door, she turned around and twisted back to see her ass.
“Holy fuck,” she breathed softly to herself.
“You look like a bona fide slave girl with those welts and bruises,” Mason said, grinning. “You should be proud of yourself.”
When she turned back to him, her face was a study in contrasts, part delighted, part horrified. “I am proud,” she declared, lifting her chin. “But I’m also kind of freaked out. I mean, the welts look so…so brutal.”
He noted the omission of Master or Sir, but let it pass. She’d had a very long day, all things considered. They could focus more on protocol training going forward. Instead, he said, “That word—brutal. It evokes something very negative in my mind—something harsh and cruel. Does it feel brutal to you, Hannah? Does it feel wrong, like something done to you against your will, without your consent, without your desire?”