Total pages in book: 90
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82746 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 414(@200wpm)___ 331(@250wpm)___ 276(@300wpm)
What he hadn’t quite realized was just how all-encompassing the experience could be. Not only the depth of his responsibility to this woman, but how emotionally involved he himself might become. He would need to keep his wits about him if he was going to get through the week with no emotional collateral damage.
He needed to get his head straight. He needed some air.
Heading for the bedroom, he called out, “I’m going to go down into town. You can get yourself cleaned up and take a little free time for yourself.”
As he was pulling on his jeans, she appeared at the bedroom door, stopping in the doorframe.
“What?” he said irritably, turning away to slip his phone and wallet into his back pocket. He hated losing control. It never led to anything good.
“Have I upset you in some way, Sir?” she asked in a low voice.
He looked back at her. The genuine pain in those dark blue eyes filled him with sudden remorse. It wasn’t her fault he’d sent out mixed signals before coming to his senses. And anyway, the crisis had been averted. Why was he acting like such an ass?
He sat on the bed, socks in hand. “No,” he said, managing a smile. “Not at all, Ellen. I, uh… I just wanted to get out for a while. Stock up on our provisions.”
“May I go with you, Sir?”
Her shy, hopeful smile touched something inside him and brought him to his senses. It wasn’t fair to shut her out because of his own issues. He’d overreacted and hurt her feelings in the process. Besides, taking her out in public could be fun. All sorts of deliciously evil ideas flitted through his brain.
“You’d still be my slave girl, even outside of this cabin. You understand that, right?”
“Of course, Sir,” she replied, the tiniest hint of reproach in her tone. “I am yours to command.”
“Okay,” he said, excited now at the prospect. “Go rinse off. But don’t get dressed, except for socks.”
Ellen’s eyes widened, her lips parting slightly as if she were about to protest. But she only said, “Yes, Sir,” and left the room.
Grabbing his boots from where Ellen had placed them by the front door, he sat on the sofa to pull them on. The fire had mostly gone out, though heat still radiated from the hearth. Using tongs provided for the purpose, Damon spread ash over the lingering embers. He closed the damper to keep the warm air from escaping through the chimney while they were gone.
He could hear the water running in the bathroom. While waiting for Ellen to reappear, he moved toward the domed slave cage. It had a simple sliding bolt on the door. He pulled the bolt free and swung open the door. He would need to stoop to fit inside, but Ellen shouldn’t have any problem.
His eye fell on the narrow wardrobe that stood nearby, curious what, if anything, might be inside.
“Whoa,” he breathed as he pulled open the doors.
An impressive array of fetish wear hung from the clothing rod, including satin and leather corsets, bustiers, a French maid outfit, a latex bodysuit and a leather slave hood. Black and red high heels of various sizes and heights were neatly lined up on the floor of the wardrobe.
He would have Ellen model some of the outfits later. She would look hot in a little frilly maid getup and stiletto heels as she cleaned the cabin. Perhaps he would dress her in a tight corset and leather slave hood. He briefly entertained the idea of putting her in something sexy before taking her down to town but dismissed the idea. He had other plans.
When she entered the room a few minutes later, Damon couldn’t help but notice how cute she looked in nothing but a pair of thick pink socks. She had pulled her hair from its high ponytail and now it hung in a rich, shiny curtain around her face. As he let his gaze travel lazily over her curvaceous body, he had an idea.
“You need nipple jewelry for the trip. Go into the side outer pocket of my gear bag and bring me the alligator clips.”
Her eyes widened slightly but she only nodded and headed to the playroom. She returned a moment later, the nipple clamps in hand. Without taking them from her, Damon gripped both her nipples and rolled them between his fingers until they stiffened into hard little buds.
Then he held out his hand so she could drop the clamps onto his open palm. He screwed the alligator clips into place at the base of each nipple until she winced with pain. Then he loosened them until they were just tight enough to stay put.
“If we were staying home, I’d use the clover clamps for maximum erotic pain,” he explained as he gave the chain between the clamps a light tug to test their grip. “But we could only safely leave those on for ten or fifteen minutes. I want these to remain in place for longer.”